#If there's anyone else out there who is equally fascinated

[jetaloen]

rohan's parents

[teratosfavouritesnack]

minotaur x afab!reader - slightly dub-con, finger fucking, romance, fluff

The minotaur had spent centuries in captivity in that damned labyrinth, all alone with the endless rage he was cursed with, only bothered by stupid glory-seeking warriors or by the eventual human sacrifice thrown in to quench his hunger. He had been lost to his madness, and anger, and misery for so long he didn't think he could be able to feel anything else anymore...

Until you came along. 

He came running towards you, the umpteenth intruder, ready to rip you into pieces with his own hands, only to have you kneeling down on the ground the moment you saw him and announcing out loud that you had no ill intentions.

That was enough to halt him in his tracks and stare down at you with utter bafflement. No one had ever behaved in such a way at his sight; anyone would either raise their sword and attack or run away screaming in fear. But you didn't do either of those things. No. You bowed your head as if to show respect and spoke with a soft and kind voice.

He saw you cower a little when he asked you the reason for your intrusion in his domain, his booming voice echoing through the walls and causing you to tremble yet you answered him nonetheless with that same sweet voice that was starting to make his stomach churn, out of anger or something else, he couldn’t know. 

You explained that you'd always read and hear stories about him, about the legendary minotaur, stories that only talked about how merciless and terrible he was but never once mentioned how lonely he might have felt. You confessed that those stories always made you cry; cry out of pity for him. That's why you had come to the labyrinth, at risk of your own life. That's why you had come to see him... 

To offer him companionship.

Your words had broken the cage shielding his heart. Who could ever feel pity for him? A monster who only knew how to kill and ravage and devour and destroy. He thought he would never know kindness, or empathy, or comfort...

Yet there you were, offering him those exact things without even asking for anything in return.

The way you stared up at him with those big doe eyes, your expression carrying so much sympathy, it made him feel different. He had never felt so weak, as though he could fall prey to your gentle heart. And yet, as he stared down at your outstretched hand, he found himself craving for your touch and reaching out for you to claim it. The way his massive palm completely enveloped your soft and delicate hand caused an odd flutter in his stomach and a rare smile to take form on his face.

He should have probably killed you with one swing of his ax the moment you had stepped into his territory, instead now he was holding your hand and accepting your company with such genuine vulnerability so unknown to him.

He couldn’t understand what was happening, why he was behaving so unlike himself and yet the more he stared at your intertwined hands, at how small and fragile yours looked, at how your fingers perfectly fit in the spaces of his palm, he found his touch grow softer and a thought bloom in his mind: he didn’t wish to hurt you.

He noticed the way you looked at him; your eyes traveling along his form, drinking in every inch of him as if he looked like something out of this world, like a statue perfectly carved out of the most refined marble, just like those he used to marvel at when he was younger. He seemed to find… pleasure in the fact that someone like you could gaze upon him with such admiration and fascination. He felt a spark, feelings he thought he had lost long ago.

He too couldn’t stop himself from admiring you; your small but plump figure, the beauty of your hair that framed your soft face, your fingers gently gliding up his hand. Your presence was weakening him and it was in equal part infuriating and liberating. You were so delicate, so fragile…  He could easily lift you up with one hand, if he so wished. He could do anything to you in his clutches. He could just grab you, cage you in his arms and you wouldn’t be able to fight back. The temptation to do exactly that was overwhelming. That monstrous side of him, the heartless him, the one that knew nothing but death and rage would let his lust get the best of him. He would grab you and take you, to claim you as his own… But the human part of him, the one he had almost forgotten to have, was trying to resist. 

You didn’t make it any easier for him by asking him if there was anything that he had been missing in his solitude, anything in particular that you could offer him. 

He couldn’t ask for more than your presence, which was already much more than he could have ever dreamt for! But you insisted. Your other hand moved to rest upon his and the moment your fingers weaved in the fur of his arm, he shivered. Something about that simple gesture had an intense effect on him. He felt his control slipping. It was taking every ounce of will-power and strength to resist the urge to grab you.

And if your touch wasn’t already enough to make his will falter, those musical giggles that escaped your lips sent ripples of pleasure down his spine and gave cause to that tiny voice inside his head; a voice that was whispering to him all the things he could ask for, taking advantage of your kindness and naivety. The urge to take you was like the urge to breathe, just like his urge to kill. He found himself leaning forward just a bit, almost as if he was testing you, tempting you. 

You didn’t back away.

"I want to feel your warmth." He finally said in a low voice and he took pleasure in the way your eyes widened. The sound of your sweet, innocent voice asking him if he was cold made him smile, and he had to fight the urge to laugh out loud. It had been ages since he had felt like that. It was a different kind of exhilaration that pervaded his body; one not caused by bloodlust, one he hadn’t felt in centuries.

He had always been a furnace of warmth, never had to care about warming up, not even in the coldest seasons, but he couldn’t stop himself from lying to you. It was only half a lie, after all; he had always felt so miserably cold inside…

"...Yes, I’m cold. Come here."

The moment your soft, delicate figure moved closer to his, he let out a quiet satisfied groan as if he was just given a gift. His massive arms reached out and cradled your body, pulling you in close to him until you were nestled tightly in his hold. Your curves molding against his hard muscles were driving him mad. The thought of you there, in his arms, pressed flush against his body was enough to make him lose all reason, all restraints. He had been missing this, exactly this. And you were willing to offer it to him, weren’t you? 

His big hand reached up and brushed your hair back out of your face, gently tucking a strand behind your ear and exposing your neck in which he instantly buried his snout; your sweet scent flooded his senses and caused his muscles to ripple.

His lips brushed against the delicate skin. He kissed it and then licked it with his large tongue. One of his giant, furry hands cupped your rear, holding you firmly against his strong chest, while the other took a different path, one that led it to slowly inch up along your thigh, making its way under your dress. When you clamped your thighs shut in response, he let out a low growl, the noise rumbling from his belly and vibrating against your body.

He kissed your neck again before looking down into your eyes just as his hand started to move again, trying to slip between your legs while his palm on your rear kneaded your soft flesh, coaxing you to relent your clench. You did almost immediately and just enough to give him room to roam between your thighs. His hand quickly slipped in your underwear and he moaned in satisfaction as he felt your whole body tremble at the probing contact. Hearing your soft moans of pleasure made something flip inside him. He ripped your underwear, letting his palm cup your sweet, wet cunt. His touch quickly became rougher, hungrier, eager; he glided his fingers against your soaking folds, eliciting whimpers and tremors, then pushed two inside your tight little hole, grunting in delight at the way your walls clenched around his fingers and your arms clung onto his neck. 

He kept licking your neck, his large flat and warm tongue lapping at your pulse point while your limbs quivered and your pussy fluttered and you babbled mindlessly. If he had this effect on you with only two of his fingers thrusting inside you, he couldn’t imagine how delirious your cries would be when he impaled you with his monstrous cock. His erection throbbed painfully just at the thought of it.

When he hit something within you that made you gasp and clutch desperately at his neck, he made sure to hit it again and again until he felt you spasm violently against him, your fingers tangling in his fur, your eyes rolling back, your body growing limp in his embrace. His own stomach churned at the sight, a wave of ecstasy spreading throughout his entire being had him gritting his teeth and groaning in both pleasure and torment. His hard length sprung from the fur on his hips, leaking and throbbing, tapping lightly at the back of your calf.

The minotaur drank in the sight of you. Your glazed over, watery eyes, your delicate lips twitching as breathy whispers escaped them, your trembling body, your damp skin… You were a vision and he wanted you, he needed you. His love and lust for you only heightened when you leaned in and let your lips lazily brush against his snout. His heart skipped a beat. Something that had never happened to him before. There were truly no words to describe how precious you were. He almost couldn’t believe a creature like you existed. But you did exist, and you were sagged there against his chest, tenderly kissing his nose, your small hands running through the thick bushy fur of his back and sending a pleasant tingle rushing through him. You were not afraid of him, you were touching him. He felt wanted. He felt desired. He felt more human than beast.

He leaned down to gently lick your cheek and his chest rumbled with a pleased growl at the sound of your giggles. A big, dumb smile of contentment crossed his face. His tongue kept licking your cheeks, your neck, your collarbone, before it retreated back into his mouth with a soft hum. His big, powerful arms wrapped around your waist and secured you in his arms.

His eyes stayed on you as he carried you through the labyrinth with unrushed but long steps. He watched you as you briefly glanced around in curiosity, then squeezed your arms tight around his neck and leaned in to plant another soft peck on the side of his snout.

"Where are you taking me?" 

Your soft voice made his heart skip a beat again and he unconsciously picked up the pace.

"To my lair. Where I keep my treasures. Where you belong."

🪷. You can leave me a tip on ko-fi if you want to support me

[akirathedramaqueen]

The bias is not always conscious

And that's the case with Stolas. That's it, that's basically the post, so you can count it as your tl;dr, but let me elaborate. :)

(A little gratitude note! Sorry @tealvenetianmask, I failed being concise here, but I thank you for encouraging me to put it all together :3 I also thank you for our conversations about Stolas and about museums in particular which heavily contributed to it)

I think there's some misunderstanding when people get offended by the suggestion that Stolas acts classist/racist. It seems that people assume we’re implying he is malicious and intentional with it, but the actual problem is that he doesn't think.

S2EP2, Seeing Stars, 1:29

The problematic behavior we're discussing is reflexive and internalized. Stolas was raised in an environment where the lower demon class is looked down upon, and while he believes he expresses nothing but deep respect for Blitzø and treats him as an equal…

Goodnight, Blitzø. S1EP7, Ozzie's, 14:50

And while you can see from this bow that this intention is sincere, which is both wonderful and fascinating—he preserved this profound gesture ever since he was a kid, despite being actively discouraged from doing so!...

[Stolas]: I'm Stolas! It's nice... Ouch! [Paimon]: Don't bow to that one! He bows to us! Idiot! S2EP1, The Circus, 7:40

He was still raised in privilege and influenced by the narratives around him. For him, it's acceptable because that's what he was taught is fine. It's part of his everyday speech, and he never actually asks Blitzø, or anyone else, how they feel about the literally belittling nicknames (like literally—do you notice how often he uses the word "little" when referring to imps?).

I mean... there's a lot, okay? I'm just going to pull out some examples off the top of my head. All of them are from Season 1, and I'll explain why later.

I was hoping you brave little imps would accompany us! S1EP2, Loo Loo Land, 5:15

Ugh, that's better... Where's Blitzy? He's my knight in shining armor, not you, littler ones! S1EP2, Loo Loo Land, 13:22

And it [grimoire] isn't supposed to be lent out to itty-bitty imps like yourself. S1EP5, The Harvest Moon Festival, 0:30

Greetings, tiny Wrath Ring imps! S1EP5, The Harvest Moon Festival, 8:22

[Stolas, in the background]: Who dares threaten my little impish plaything? S1EP6, Truth Seekers, 18:20

How the fuck did you get caught by humans? Are you little creatures not being careful up here? S1EP6, Truth Seekers, 19:38

He also takes pride in being part of Ars Goetia. That pride seeps into his mind whether he wants it to or not. He lives in a huge palace, never worries about money, can arrange a seat in a club that’s always booked out, and gets admitted to a hospital immediately, while hellhounds wait five years for a Hellbies shot.

Being part of the Goetia family is rather valuable, you know. S1EP2, Loo Loo Land, 4:39

Most of these examples come from Season 1 because, after the disastrous Ozzie’s date, Stolas begins to unconsciously cut back on this language. He seems to sense that something is wrong, though he doesn’t fully understand why. However, he is acutely aware of the problems with the transaction and the unfair dynamics it creates, and he is serious about putting Blitzø on equal ground by providing him with the means to run his business independently of Stolas.

And still, he maintains full control over the conversation during the Full Moon meeting, immediately dismisses Blitzø after one mistake, and throws him out. He continues to impose his narrative on Blitzø and…

I don't look down on you! How many times do I— When have I ever?! S2EP9, Apology Tour, 2:45

When have you ever indeed, Stolas? You literally look down on Blitzø saying that. This moment illustrates the problem clearly. He isn’t lying when he says he doesn’t look down on Blitzø because he genuinely believes he doesn’t.

Despite all said, Stolas is making a tremendous effort and is progressing, and he is far ahead of Stella, who is openly classist/racist and very conscious of her biases. So I believe—no, I know—he will get there one day. But not today.

This is something I take quite seriously, and I think people need to understand how dangerous this subtlety can be, as it happens all the time in real life too.

How often do you ask yourself why medical research groups are predominantly represented by white, cis, upper-middle-class males, and how this affects the efficiency of treatments suggested in these studies for everyone else—women, people of color, non-binary folks, and those who struggle financially?

How often do you visit museums and see art created by wealthy aristocrats who defined what constitutes 'fine art,' while 'folk art'—often created by marginalized communities—is overlooked and lost to time?

I could elaborate further on how deep and cruel this bias is, but I’ll stop here. I just ask you to consider why you might get offended when someone points out Stolas's subtle bigotry and why you might downplay it compared to the loud, aggressive Blitzø, whose anger and avoidant issues are obvious.

Just sit with it.

[meanbossart]

Okay, one more question on the Bhaalist Drow au, if you'll indulge. What happens in Astarion's mindthe immediate aftermath of the ascension failing (as in, right then but also up until the game's end). Do they bother showing up to Withers' party? How does Astarion go slip sliding down into a cowed version of himself over time? And, what I am most fascinated by in something like this, how do the other cultists, especially direct reporters to DU Drow, or like deputies, treat him? Does Astarion find he's confined certain places?

Sorry, thank you!

No apologies needed! This is a very fun scenario to play around in.

So, I'm not sure if Astarion would immediately realize that DU drow purposefully ruined the ritual, but regardless he would have realized that this is the outcome he truly wanted.

I imagine that after Du drow embraced Bhaal, Astarion would have gotten it into his head that he now must ascend so they will be on leveled ground, and fully capable of pursuing their plans of taking control over the sword coast together as equally powerful individuals. DU drow would have sold himself as completely behind this plan and supportive of the idea, eager for them to exert total control as the most dashingly evil couple in all of Faerun. And perhaps this was genuine for a day, before the fear of losing his grasp over Astarion began to settle in. He didn't voice this as all, of course, but as an avid manipulator himself Astarion would be able to tell post-failure that his support wasn't earnest.

And I think Astarion just panicked; going back and forth between convincing himself that he should be thankful to have someone powerful by his side, and just feeling like has no other option but to go along with it. Whether or not he thinks he can abandon DU drow successfully, the world has just become a much scarier place than before, and at least here he knows he has someone to take care of him - someone he should be fond of, even if time eventually proves him wrong.

For a while (weeks, if not months) Astarion would have appeared nothing if not pleased with his predicament. He has a man who is head-over-heels for him who also happens to be the head-honcho of a powerful cult, he has access to as much blood and violence as he pleases and the ability to entertain his fantasies of power and cruelty to their fullest. If there is anyone left who cares for him, he paints elaborate pictures of their routine together - of their outings, of their riches, of his exquisite quarters and their intense sex. He tells them that DU drow might be Bhaal's chosen, but he has him wrapped tight around his finger day and night and pretty much runs the show behind the scenes.

These are fantasies that he wants to others to believe in as much as he wants to convince himself of them, and a narrative that DU drow might even humor - he likes the illusion of Astarion being in control, but it can't ever be like that in practice - but reality is a lot more hollow. They have gold, and they have the expensive garments, and the sex is intense, but life has become a performance from morning until night and Astarion has completely lost the element of tenderness that he had grown to enjoy. DU drow loves him like a prized possession, like a novelty - a fragile ornament that only he knows how to handle, and no one else is allowed near.

Whenever there is push back, whenever Astarion wants to branch out, he is reminded of how vulnerable and small he is. How every day occurrences and objects can harm him, and that while DU drow may appreciate him for the man he is, others will take him for a simple monster. That It is much easier to stick by his side, sacrifice some of his freedom but be cared for than to risk exposing himself to harm. DU drow also constantly reminds him of the pain he would be in if anything were to ever draw them apart, and guilts him about what may happen if he was to die.

And as rebellious towards Cazador as he might have been, total servitude is a default he learned to fall back into in search of safety. It is easier to turn to old habits and simply accept his circumstances, surrender to them. At least here, he is never tortured, he is never physically hurt, and he is only sometimes verbally berated. He can deal with it as long as it is an improvement upon his previous situation. Slowly, he'd just become DU drow's yes-man, he'd concern himself constantly with pleasing him, looking desirable, acting desirable, fulfilling his fantasies and acting the part that's expected of him. From the outside it may even seen like he enjoys the life.

He is basically seen but not heard by DU drow's consorts. It's less about the respect that they may or may not have for him and more about the respect (or should I say fear) that they have for their leader. DU Drow would make it clear again and again that no one is allowed to touch him, he would be weary of anybody trying get too close, of being too friendly, even of staring a little too hard - he would kill and torture men over the most mundane of comments whether they be positive or negative until everyone is just too fearful of interacting with Astarion at all. As for people outside of the temple, he basically never has a chance to mingle without DU drow's watchful gaze over him (all for the sake of protecting him, of course).

I think Sceleritas would be the only person who can consistently interact with alone, since DU drow trusts him completely. The little goblin himself no longer sees Astarion as so much of a person, more so a possession; one that keeps his master happy and productive. So he extends the same amount of respect to him as he does to DU drow himself, and functions as a butler to both.

He also reports back to DU drow about Astarion's every request, every diversion from habit, every misplaced sigh and fluctuation in mood, every eye-roll. He knows the questions to ask to get the answers he wants, to interrogate him with poise on behalf of his master so he can make sure that his beau is always happy and content. Astarion realizes this learns to watch himself around Sceleritas over time too.

[merrunzs]

anyway does anyone ever think abt how lonely the chosen are.

how ketheric does everything for his family but he is the only one really left. everything in his home and everyone he loves are either dead or twisted by the shadow curse that kills everything there anyway. isobel, the daughter he had being doing Everything for, ran from him when she found out what he had become to save her

how gortash was always too smart for his own good that he was cast out and sold like damaged goods by his own parents . he was sold to the hells where nobody is your friend . he is the chosen of bane, representing the sphere of tyranny and subjugation, in which nobody is your friend. he has the entire city under his thumb either through fear or his charm and the brittle, tense partnership with ketheric and orin and yet he has no true allies (except the durge arguably but. theyre either gone or dont remember him) . how he Seeks Out the equal partnership with tav/amnesiac durge which to me seems So antithetical to banes sphere- i cant imagine theyre too fond of sharing- in a way that fascinates me so much

how orin is a bhaalspawn that has never been good enough. never pure enough. she has always been second best, the childish girl to durges mastery. how she does everything for sarevok and for bhaal she has nothing but her family and that temple. no matter how much she devotes herself to them she is only ever looked upon by her only loved ones with hatred and contempt. orin whos own mother attacked her on sarevoks orders. orin who is unwanted wherever she goes no matter how hard she tries to be the very best

the dark urge, too. durge who is a tool, a vessel and instrument for their fathers will. when sarevok says 'you belong to bhaal. he manifests within you' . how theyre shackled to bhaal and kept from everything else. the first people they ever killed were their family. even in the temple, with their True family, durge is alienated from orin and sarevok by virtue of being made and not born, not connected to their shared bloodline. durge who is constantly pushed onto a pedestal by those in the temple through their divinity and purity and has never had a true peer to stand beside before gortash. durge who is so so cut off from other people and intimacy and who is forced to kill everyone they get close to or love by their father and the urge. durge who is an object for bhaals use, unafforded the mortal luxury of real connection

deeply deeply interested by how they are all such powerful and influential characters and yet all have such a strong theme of isolation. :(

[phoenixkaptain]

A story like Thousand Autumns is very subtle in its romance.

Shen Qiao has only ever known his sect. He knows it very well, because of this fact. He knows the people, he knows the rules, he knows the daily doings and who is doing them. He knows every blade of grass and every stone. He’s like a lonely mountain flower, on the highest peak, unseen by any but a few birds and unknowing that there’s more it might never know.

When he finds himself away from his sect for the first time, he’s confused. At most, he’s gone to the base of the mountain, maybe the fields surrounding that, but no further. The flower was plucked and tossed aside.

For a man stumbling blindly in the world, literally and figuratively, there really isn’t a better guide than one that knows just about everything. And that’s, without a doubt, Yan Wushi.

Yan Wushi has lived longer than Shen Qiao, has been more places than Shen Qiao, and has fought more battles than Shen Qiao. Yan Wushi is the perfect example of something out of reach even for someone out of reach. He’s the only one who could answer any questions asked of him, but especially the questions that Shen Qiao would want to ask him.

And there’s no question in my mind that Yan Wushi doesn’t fall for Shen Qiao at first sight, but he’s certainly attracted to him. Not in an overtly sexual or emotional way, but Yan Wushi, the way his character is set up? It’s impossible for him not to be fascinated by Shen Qiao.

He knows Shen Qiao is the very picture of a peerless immortal. He’s well aware that Shen Qiao is considered untouchable by even the people closest to Shen Qiao. He’s most aware that Shen Qiao is Qi Fengge’s (coughhndisputedcough) favourite disciple, and honestly that’s enough for him to overwhemingly want to mess with Shen Qiao.

There are a lot of reasons for Yan Wushi to fall for Shen Qiao. Most of the people in the novel fall for Shen Qiao, after all, there is a precedent.

But the one I’ve seen questioned is Shen Qiao’s affection for Yan Wushi. Where does it come from? When did it start? Does Shen Qiao even fucking like that asshole?

The easy answer is: yes, he does. The novel tells us that. Shen Qiao, despite everything, does fall for Yan Wushi’s, um, “charms” in the end. This is made clear.

But why? A thousand voices cry out. Why the fuck would any reasonable person like Yan goddamn Wushi in any capacity?

Well, there’s your first mistake. Shen Qiao is not a reasonable person.

Shen Qiao as a character is absolutely terrifying. He could absolutely destroy the world given half the inclination, but he just doesn’t want to. He’s already considered unmatched before he’s pushed unceremoniously off of a mountain, and his journey only increases his strength. He isn’t quite equal to Yan Wushi, but he’s the only person Yan Wushi ever sees as equal to himself.

Shen Qiao’s best and worst trait is his patience. He’s unwavering. He really just embodies taoism, especially as it’s presented in the novels. He is the picture of a river that doesn’t stray from its path.

Which is why it’s hard for him to reconcile his own attraction to Yan Wushi, but let’s all be clear here. Yan Wushi absolutely starts seducing Shen Qiao on day fucking one. If he could’ve (if Qi Fengge hadn’t been there) he would’ve tried to eat that cabbage when it was just a little sprout. Shen Qiao is unpracticed in most social interactions, to be frank, but he’s especially unused to romance and Yan Wushi really is his first introduction to being hit on.

Yan Wushi is far from good, at really any point, to anybody but especially to Shen Qiao. But that doesn’t particularly matter because Shen Qiao chooses to forgive him, again and again. And I really think, after giving Shen Qiao to a confirmed terrible, awful person who has already promised to do terrible thing to Shen Qiao, that Shen Qiao himself wouldn’t forgive literally anyone else for doing that. And he shouldn’t, because it was really fucked up, but that still doesn’t matter because Shen Qiao ultimately DOES forgive Yan Wushi.

What am I saying? I’m saying that Shen Qiao fell for Yan Wushi first. It is the only way the story makes any sense. Shen Qiao is annoyed at him, he’s furious at him, he’s so fucking pissed he could kill that man, but he likes him. He likes Yan Wushi’s company. He likes that Yan Wushi gives him a challenge. He’s exasperated, but he likes it.

Shen Qiao forgives Yan Wushi SO MANY TIMES. Yan Wushi humiliates him and mocks him and is the absolute worst, but Shen Qiao forgives him and more than that, Shen Qiao always is waiting for Yan Wushi to come back to bother him more.

Is there more to Shen Qiao’s attraction? Probably. Is it a daddy kink? It could be. But I honestly can’t help but read it as Shen Qiao falling for the absolute pits of a man that is Yan Wushi. Shen Qiao likes that old bastard and decides to spend the rest of his life with the fucker and he is just too much of a block of ice to show it.

[authenticyuri]

Listen I know I know, referring to Laios’s party as found family isn’t breaking new grounds but like. Can I talk about how literally everyone in the main cast has been ostracized or othered throughout their life and how they can form connections with each other despite their differences and how they don’t belong anywhere else but they actively want to stick together?

The Touden twins have never belonged in their family or with their peers. Laios’s fascination with monsters and low people skills are obviously the main traits that lead people to find him and his interests weird and creepy and cause them to have inaccurate and exaggerated views of how he acts in their head. Whenever people don’t outright tell him how weird he is they always pretend to be his friends while secretly hating him and acting passive aggressively towards him. Even when his knowledge and skills are put on full display and are actively useful, people are still on the fence about him as a whole and don’t take any time to understand him, constantly insisting he’s a freak and an idiot.

Falin was never understood by her parents because of her magical abilities and didn’t fit in at all at her academy. Others always saw her as the weird, muddy, quiet, irresponsible girl in their class, and while she never payed much attention to how others perceived her, it still left her completely isolated from others, until she met Marcille.

Chilchuck faces discrimination from other races constantly looking down on him (in more ways than one) and seeing him as literally disposable. He developed trust issues around others and tried to overcompensate by acting dryly and being as profesional as possible, but it does nothing to deter people from seeing him as a child and underestimating him.

Marcille’s huge age gap and irregular aging from others has made her feel completely isolated from everyone around her since her childhood. She is looked down upon by high and mighty elves who don’t see her as an equal due to being a mixed race. Her interests in ancient magic actively creep out her party members and everyone else who can only see it as the illegal and dangerous “dark arts.” She’s never been able to meet anyone else like her and feels isolated due to no one else having to bear and therefore never being able to understand her situation and frustrations.

Senshi was seen as an inconvenience in the original party he was a part of. Out of the main cast, he probably suffered the most traumatic circumstances and hasn’t been able to overcome that lingering dread in the back of his mind for years. He explored the dungeon in complete solitude for many years while never going out of his way to meet new people until he met Laios’s party. He is someone who uses his interests to try and connect with the people around him but people are unable to see that due to just finding him a weird man who lives in the dungeon and is obsessed with cooking.

Izutsumi never being properly raised and given love by anybody and seen as a freak because of her curse to be a beastkin, to the point she convinced herself that getting rid of her curse is the one thing that would finally make her happy. She’s never formed a close genuine connection with anyone and understood the concept of relationships as give and take.

Many or all of the preconceived biases each individual character faced are still present when it comes to how they view each other, and yet, despite it all, they are still sticking around, regardless of how many opportunities they had to leave. It’s how Chilchuck put himself in harms way despite not being strong and how he finally opened himself up to these people. How Senshi always stuck around to provide food for the others and help them along their journey, and come to accept different ways of doing things or understanding the world because of them. How Marcille ate every single meal she was served despite constantly showing hesitation, and she kept going despite how many times it seemed like they would never make it out or accomplish their goal. How Izutsumi learned that sometimes it’s necessary to do things you don’t like for the sake of other people, and she stuck around cause she knew they needed her, despite her not needing them. How Laios did gain a positive outlook on humanity and betrayed his instincts to save and protect the people he cares about. And about how Falin, after years of eating all by herself, was finally able to share a delicious meal with other people.

[theseyellowdays]

I think that Bee gained Andrew's trust bc she was more fascinated in the fucked up-ness than determined to be the one to make it better. Andrew had gone through 12 therapists before Bee, how many of those do you think took him on just so they could say they were the ones to "fix" this teenage nightmare with a wrap sheet longer than his pint size body? Or bc they were obsessed with creating a happy ending to the sob story they were horny to unveil? Andrew doesn't need someone to tell him what to do. He's tried of people thinking they can dictate his life bc they think he's incapable of doing it himself. He is a tank of self-control let out in calculated increments through conniving schemes 7 steps ahead and too soaked in blood for anyone else to even consider. "Help" is the last thing Andrew will tolerate from anyone — least of all someone naive about the world and in a position of authority over him. But fascination on the other hand. In Bee I think he sees someone who is willing to play the long game and who is genuinely more interested in who Andrew is than the traumatic events that led to his more abrasive tendencies. He sees an equal and that understanding is the only thing I can see holding Andrew's attention, his respect, and his begrudge willingness to take her suggestions into consideration

[visenyaism]

what do you think alicent & criston's relationship is from alicent's point of view? and why did she hire him after ep 5 if she's kinda obviously against murder?

so episode five is one of alicent’s lowest points: no real friends in court, evil all-powerful father exiled to oldtown, husband doesn’t give a fuck about her other than using her body when he wants, and then also she finds out the ONE point of solace she was going to have, that Rhaenyra was going to be equally as miserable as her in her own marriage so at least they’d suffer together, isn’t even happening because Rhaenyra fucked a hot knight and then lied to Alicent’s face about it and used it to get Otto removed from court.

and then Criston shows up and puts his entire life in Alicent’s hands because he is that devoted to following the Arbitrary Society Rules that Alicent’s mind prison is made up of. She’s never really had that kind of power over anyone before. And even when he snaps and beats a man to death with his bare hands at Rhaenyra’s wedding it’s because of his deep sense of shame about losing his honor because of those rules. Criston tries to kill himself to maintain his construction of his own honor, Alicent offers him a way out.

After that, I think the core of their relationship is that Alicent DID find someone to suffer alongside with in the confines of devotion to extreme societal duty, but instead of Rhaenyra, it’s Criston as the One True Chivalric Honor Knight and Alicent as the One True Dutiful Queen. Criston is the ONLY person in her life who is willing to acknowledge out loud that Rhaenyra is breaking the rules, and you can’t break the rules because if you could break them this entire time why has Alincent had to ruin her entire life over and over again to follow the rules? Everyone else was telling her she was literally insane for years for pointing out that Rhaenyra’s kids aren’t Laenor’s or for trying to say that it was unfair that the King cared more about her than he did Alicent’s children. Their codependency was built on shared resentment of AND devotion to these rules and it is soooo insane and very fascinating. i hope they stay miserable together forever

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Was the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black actually any special, and were they seen as some kind of royalty to outsiders?

Because in every (or most) fanfic I’ve read with them, they are always depicted as being way above anyone and everyone else, even their own partners. The only ones good for them, or the only ones who understand them, are the ones with black blood running through their veins. As if they are some sort of gods that no one, but others with their blood, can touch. And everyone loves (and/or hates) them and wants to be a part of their family because they are so powerful and attractive, but watch out because they are prone to being crazy.

Which is actually another thing I wanted to point out and ask:

Did the Black family actually have some kind of curse of madness?

Hi 👋

Now, like many, I'm not immune to being completely fascinated by the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, so I was pretty stoked about this ask.

For the first part, are the Blacks actually as important as they make themselves (or fandom makes them to be)?

The short answer is not really, but they are important.

Now, the long answer:

I mentioned here how I believe the Wizengamot functions like a council of lords (which is what the Witengamot is named after in our real world), as such, families like the Blacks, the Longbottoms, and even the Potters likely do have a "noble title" (for lack of a better term) that allows them a seat there.

That being said, I don't think the Blacks are above any of the other families there, not really, but they think they are. The Blacks are an old wizarding family, they can probably trace their family tree back to the founders' era and perhaps even before, and it's important to them. They take pride in this legacy of one of the oldest pure-blood families in Britain. The Malfoys, for example, are probably richer than the modern Blacks, but they don't have the Wizengamot title and they came from France, they're not British Pure-Bloods, not originally, and I think the Blacks as a whole would look down on that. But other Wizengamot families that have just as much British history should be their equals then, and they are unless you ask a Black. They are a very proud family, and they might think they're above everyone, but they're the only ones thinking it.

I also personally headcanon that they have more houses aside from Grimmauld Place as well. I mean, back in the Regency and Victorian era it was common for richer aristocrats to have a manor away from London and then a townhouse/manor in London for the social season. So, I kinda assumed that's what Grimmauld Place initially was. So it isn't the family manor the way Malfoy Manor is and there is a Black Manor somewhere in the countryside.

For the second question:

No, I don't think the Black Madness is real.

Let's define "madness". Since it isn't really a medical term, I'd go with the dictionary on this one:

So, we'll treat it as repeated foolish, frenzied, or uncontrolled behavior that cannot be explained by other factors.

We don't meet many Blacks, and most of the ones we do are far from mad (I'll get to Bellatrix and Walburga).

Both Narcissa and Andromeda are completely sound of mind. Sure, they might have made mistakes, or rash decisions on occasion, but that's being human. They both care deeply for their families and act in their best interest. And they are intelligent, logical, controlled, and consistent in their behavior. So, two Black sisters are not insane.

What about the Black brothers, Sirius and Regulus?

Well, neither of them ever read as mad to me. Regulus was obsessed with Voldemort until he realized what he got himself into and his actions weren't ones of a madman, a desperate one, maybe, but not mad. He was smart enough to figure out about Voldmort's Horcruxes and smart enough to do something about it without Voldemort knowing.

Sirius isn't at the best of mental state when we see him considering it's after 12 years in hell on earth. But he is logical, sane, and sound, especially during Goblet of Fire in which he uncovers the plot with Barty Crouch Jr perfectly, just getting the wrong Death Eater. He comes to correct conclusions about people and is clearly intelligent:

“I don’t know,” said Sirius slowly, “I just don’t know . . . Karkaroff doesn’t strike me as the type who’d go back to Voldemort unless he knew Voldemort was powerful enough to protect him. But whoever put your name in that goblet did it for a reason, and I can’t help thinking the tournament would be a very good way to attack you and make it look like an accident.”

(GoF, page 334)

Yes, his mental state deteroits in OOTP when he's back at Grimmuald Place, but that's Sirius dealing with his grief, trauma, his sense of helplessness, and complicated feelings about his family. He never was mad, even then, just in a really shitty situation.

And yes, he was cruel as a teenager, but as I keep saying later in the post, cruelty does not equal madness.

So, what about Bellatrix, the fandom's poster child for the Black Madness?

I don't think she's insane either, well, at least she wasn't until Azkaban. In her trial, she is quiet throughout the proceedings, looking board, even, until the verdict is given:

The dementors were gliding back into the room. The boys’ three companions rose quietly from their seats; the woman with the heavy-lidded eyes looked up at Crouch and called, “The Dark Lord will rise again, Crouch! Throw us into Azkaban; we will wait! He will rise again and will come for us, he will reward us beyond any of his other supporters! We alone were faithful! We alone tried to find him!”

(GoF, 595-596)

She is fanatical, sure, but there's no baby talk like we see in OOTP, she is cold and clearly understands the situation, she isn't in a frenzy but in control. She just knows about at least one Horcrux so she truly believes what she is saying and from her point of view, it makes sense she believes that. I won't say she is right to torture and murder Voldemort, no, she is cruel and sadistic, always was. But you can be cruel and sadistic without being mad.

The baby voice she was useing when talking to Harry in OOTP was a taunt as well, not how she usually speaks:

“Never used an Unforgivable Curse before, have you, boy?” she yelled. She had abandoned her baby voice now.

(OotP, 810)

The moment he cast an unforgivable and she started treating him seriously she dropped the baby voice.

She is cruel and fanatical, but not insane. She rightfully suspects Snape throughout HBP and DH, she is aware of her surroundings enough to see Snape's loyalty is odd when many others don't. She is intelligent and logical. She can keep herself in check when she wants to, she's, just, obsessive, and willfully blind to anything to do with Voldemort because she practically worships him.

But, she isn't mad in the sense the Black Madness seems to imply. Also, I think how we see her, post-Azkaban is worse than how she was before. I think we met a less stable, crueler version of Bellatrix, not that she wasn't cruel before, but she was more stable I think. I mean, she did spend about 14 years in Azkaban, and Fudge said Sirius looked too sane to him after a decade in the place. The Wizarding World expects the prisoners in Azkaban to lose it. So, is it really a wonder Bellatrix was affected by her time there?

And what about Walburga who screeched about blood-traitors and mudbloods constantly? Well, I think, like Bellatrix, we're seeing the worst of her.

I mean, Walburga had her portrait painted after:

Her eldest and favored son ran away from home

Her second obedient son joined the Dark Lord and then disappeared. She likely believed he died a painful torturous death of a traitor considering that's what everyone thought.

Her husband died soon after, leaving her alone with Kreature in a gloomy home that hasn't felt like a home to any of them since the war started brewing in the 1970s. Since Sirius left.

So, I think the version we see of her, is one who was grieving. She was lonely, bitter, and in mourning. And that is the state of mind the portrait captured. I think magical portraits capture the person as they are when they sit down to have the portrait taken, so it captures all of Waburga's pain, and Walburga, proud daughter of the house of Black spits acid instead of letting her pain get to her. Instead of allowing herself to feel the guilt that is weighing her down.

Walburga was never been the picture of a good mother, or of stability, but I mentioned here and other times that I don't believe Walburga was physically abusive at any point, but she always had high expectations for her sons, especially Sirius. She probably had control, and she wasn't always as frenzied as we see her, we just see a version of her broken by life, and when she broke, she got so much worse.

So, I don't think there is a curse of Black madness, not really. It's just the Black family had shit luck in the Wizarding Wars, and to a degree, it was their own doing — their pure-blood mania that sent their kids away.

As for other members, well, we know Alphard was sane enough to give Sirius money when he ran away. We know Araminta wanted to legalize muggle-hunting and Elladora started the tradition of hanging house elves' heads on the walls. The thing is, you don't need to be mad to be cruel, you can be perfectly calm, collected, and intelligent and still do unimaginable horrors. In the case of Araminta and Elladora, they don't consider muggles and house elves as human, as equal to them. therefore their pain and suffering aren't cruel in their eyes, it's like killing a deer and mounting its head on the wall, it's an animal, and it's fine. I don't think they were even necessarily cruel towards other wizards, just towards those they considered lesser, who they thought of as animals. They weren't good people, but that doesn't make them mad.

I think there is something to be said about evil not always equaling insanity and that people who'd be medically considered completely sane can do a lot of evil. I think calling every evil character insane or mad cheapens these terms and has always felt to me like a cop-out. Insane is what you call someone you want to Other, to forget that the evil they committed was done by a person, it's a way to wave their behavior away and say: "Well, I can't understand why they did that, they're insane," and this kind of excuse for characters' behavior always left a bad taste in my mouth. Evil can be done by perfectly sane humans, and I think that angle of analysis, is much more interesting because then you force yourself to understand. You force yourself to face the humanity in a character in a way calling them mad won't allow you to. Real evil is hardly ever so simple as "madness" makes it out to be.

(As a side note, I think it's possible quite a few of the Blacks have mental health issues, but that's very different than how terms like madness and insanity are thrown around and portrayed)

[ausfortheheart]

lust life - SIRIUS BLACK

(sirius black x female!reader)

summary : you've been hooking up with james potter over the summer, but when you return to hogwarts you find yourself drawn to his best friend. you've adamantly hated sirius black throughout your school years, and you're sure the feeling's mutual... or you were

warnings: sexual references, strong & suggestive language, 14+

other parts:

PART 1

PART 2 (current)

PART 3

PART TWO

THE MALFOY MANSION, annual Christmas ball, 1966

Settling down, you sighed contently as you opened your book.

Pride and prejudice

Eyes flitting across the first page, you absentmindedly caressed the silky pages of the book between your fingers as you concentrated on the first few words:

'It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of --'

You jumped as the door to the broom cupboard creaked open, interrupting your reading.

"Hello?" A small boy peeped inside and entered, looking curiously at what you were holding. "I'm Sirius."

He had very messy black hair, and was dressed in an expensive looking black and white suit. Although, you noticed, his tie was hung loosely around his neck.

"You're a Black." You stated without hesitation, your voice lacking any of the warmth that was present in his.

"Would you like to play?" He asked, though his easy smile was now uncertain, and you got the impression that he had left out his surname in his introduction intentionally, "It's really boring out there." He gestured with his head down the marble corridor towards the main hall, where the Malfoy's ball was being held.

"I'm not interested." You spoke, making a point of staring fixatedly at the small text resting in your lap.

The boy ignored the hostility in your voice, "Woah!" His eyes lit up, noticing the embellished cover, "I've heard of that book! Isn't it by a muggle author--"

He flinched as you snapped the book shut, rounding on him, "And so what? Contrary to your family's vile beliefs, muggles are fascinating and deserve to be treated and respected equally as wizards are."

He looked too taken aback at your harshness to speak, and you continued, "So if you don't mind, Black, I'd like to read my book." You paused, "And if you snitch to my mother, I will hex you."

Not that you knew any hexes - you were only seven after all - but you weren't willing to risk your strict pureblood mother finding out.

It had been your father who had gotten the book for you, giving it to you privately as a Christmas present only once you agreed not to show or tell anyone else. Muggles had always intrigued him, and he saw nothing wrong with his curious daughter immersing herself in their literature.

Black stood there, crestfallen, hurt painted across his features, and left.

The next time you saw him, any sign of sadness had been replaced by a firm glare; one you gladly returned.

⚜

"Second base?"

James stayed silent. He focused stubbornly on walking to the 6th year's first class.

"Third?"

James winced and Sirius laughed, slapping him on the back, "I knew it!"

"What??" James responded, exasperated, "I never said- well- it doesn't matter." He shook his head helplessly, pushing his glasses up as they began to slip.

Remus was already tired of Sirius' antics, "Glad you got that sorted. Can we talk about something else now?"

Just as Sirius opened his mouth to respond, he noticed someone, "Look who it is." He murmured, before going to confront you.

Remus noticed James' face pale slightly.

Pushing through the gaggle of students in the crowded corridor, you made your way to transfiguration. You were walking alone, as Serafina and your other friends needed to make a quick stop at the bathroom.

You heard a familiar laugh and froze.

"Going somewhere?" Taunted a deep voice. The same one from the train.

Turning around, you became face to face with Sirius Black. The rest of his group were stood behind him, and your eyes briefly flitted to James, who was looking determinedly at the cracks in the floor.

It looked like you'd be alone on this one.

Responding with exaggerated enthusiasm, you began to talk, "To the same class as you? Where else?" You cocked a brow, crossing your arms. You had decided the previous night: Sirius Black wasn't going to ruin your second-to-last year at Hogwarts.

Attempting to look intimidating, he stepped closer. His glare didn't waver, and you swallowed. The confidence was practically oozing out of him.

Black's eyes seemed to dance over your face as he took you in, making you feel more self-conscious by the second. Your eyes stung as you fought the increasing urge to blink.

Despite not wanting to give in, to admit defeat, you were painfully aware that class was about to start.

You cleared your throat, stepping away. Automatically losing whatever standoff the two of you had been engaged in.

"I'm done with this." You said, firmly, and began to walk in the opposite direction, deciding to quickly throw one more snide remark over your shoulder, "Oh-- and it's nice to finally know how to shut you up Black."

He tilted his head, you'd undoubtedly gotten his attention. You decided it was too late not to keep going, "If I'd have known that all it took for you to shut up was to stare into my eyes, I'd have never stopped looking at you." You taunted, smirking.

Black looked intrigued, and Remus looked as though he was fighting not to laugh. James and Peter had disappeared.

"Only because it's so ugly I couldn't form any words." He yelled as you turned away, but it sounded half-hearted. And it definitely wasn't up to the usual Sirius Black comeback standard you'd come to expect.

"What are you, five?" You said, grinning slightly, even though he couldn't see.

"One of us is!" He called out spitefully.

Rolling your eyes, you were now power walking through the corridor- determined not to be late to class. Your eyes were strained at the end corner, eager to get away from the sensation of Black's eyes burning into your back. It felt as though hot water was trickling down your spine, making you shiver.

A slight tingling sensation overcame your body for a split second, but it was gone so quickly that you thought nothing of it. You sighed in relief once you were a safe distance away, shaking your head in disbelief at what had just happened.

Once you made it to class you hurried inside, walking down the aisle in the middle as you headed to your designated seat at the front. But something wasn't right, and you realised the class had gone silent.

You stopped in confusion. Everyone was staring at you: even the cat on McGonagall's desk widened it's yellow-rimmed eyes.

"What now?" You groaned, turning an accusatory eye at everyone who was staring. Serafina had gone quiet, and quickly stood up to make her way to you.

Suddenly the cat on the desk leaped off, and you jumped as it morphed into your transfiguration teacher. You tried to hide your shock-- you had never witnessed McGonagall as an animagus first hand. Except you didn't have long to dwell on this thought, as she too had a similar expression as everyone else.

"Miss (L/n), have you..." she paused.

It wasn't like McGonagall to be at a loss for words.

"Have you looked in the mirror lately, dear?" She asked firmly, with a hint of sympathy just as the Marauders entered.

There were scattered snickers followed by laughter across the classroom as you turned red, suddenly extremely self-conscious.

Then a sleazy voice spoke up, "Who's bed did you climb out of this morning, (L/n)?"

You spun around to glare at a blonde Gryffindor, "Who do you think you--"

The marauders were still positioned at the entry to the classroom, and the tallest one finally decided to intervene, "Nice change of clothes, (L/n)." Sirius Black smirked.

And you looked down, horrified.

Your usual green and silver uniform was now a bold red and gold.

"Y'know, red's your colour." He added, smirking.

For a moment, you stood there. Deadly still, taking in what was happening, taking in the wide eyes of everyone in the class, taking in Black's disgustingly smug expression.

And then pure, overwhelming anger engulfed every single feeling and any rational thoughts. You stormed out of the classroom.

Pausing for a millisecond as you struggled to open the door, Black took it as an opportunity to lean towards you, "Just a joke," He said, in the least sympathetic voice you had ever heard, his eyes carving the image of your humiliation into his brain, "just a little bit of fun--"

Sirius Black was flung backwards, slamming into the stone wall behind.

You had always found the knockback jinx to be effective. You lowered your wand as the other marauders rushed to Black's side.

He quickly stood up, humiliated.

"That's detention. Both of you!" McGonagall shouted sternly, as you left the room without looking back once, creasing the note James had slipped you as you left.

You spent the rest of that period figuring out how to undo the charm that had changed the colour of your robes. You couldn't be bothered to head back to the common room, and so you opted for the abandoned girls' bathrooms. Except you had immediately identified that decision as a mistake due to Moaning Myrtle deciding to take it as an opportunity to make fun of you for half an hour.

Once you had finally figured out the reversal spell and the deep green paired with silver was back, you met with Serafina at the end of Transfiguration.

"He's an asshole, (Y/n)." She immediately began, noticing the slight guilt in your expression, "You saw how quickly he got up, I'm sure you didn't seriously injure him or anything."

"I know." You stated, fixated on adjusting your bag strap.

Besides," She added, "he deserved it for that little stunt he pulled."

You hummed in agreement, cheeks burning in humiliation as you realised how utterly ridiculous you must have looked earlier. In an attempt to distract yourself, you pulled out the piece of folded paper James had given you earlier. It emerged from the pocket of your robes slightly ripped and crumpled.

Your eyes quickly skimmed over the messy, slanted handwriting.

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃

ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ

ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᵒᶠ ˡᵘⁿᶜʰ~ ᵖʳᵉᶠᵉᶜᵗˢ ᵇᵃᵗʰʳᵒᵒᵐ.

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃

Sera read nosily over your shoulder.

"You gonna go?" She knew about what you and James had been up to over the summer, and supported you both.

"I don't know." You sighed, desperately hoping you'd imagined the sickening crack earlier when Black had hit the wall, "I'll see."

"I think you need a stress reliever girl." She continued, voice hushed, "Besides, what better way to get back at Sirius Black than hooking up with one of his best friends?"

And so you did. But not before quickly checking the hospital wing to make sure no Gryffindor boys had recently been admitted.

⚜

The library was empty, just as you liked it. You hummed to yourself quietly as you casually flipped through the school's edition of 'Advanced Potion Making'. Slughorn had recommended rereading the book as a form of revision for an upcoming quiz, and you were eager to do well.

After half an hour of intense reading you began to read the same sentence over and over again. Eyes beginning to feel heavy, you set the book down. It was beginning to get late anyway, you supposed this was a sign to head back to the common room before curfew.

You got up, stretching your arms as you did so, and headed back to place the book you had borrowed. Just as you reached the bookshelf, a small gasp from in front startled you. You wildly looked around in an attempt to find the source of the sound, not entirely sure that you wanted to.

That was when you saw through a tiny gap in the bookshelf something that made your insides churn.

A pretty Ravenclaw girl was pressed against a bookshelf, her eyes shut in bliss, as a tall gryffindor boy with wavy black hair kissed her neck. You quickly diverted your eyes.

It didn't take a lot to figure out who the boy was. And that he definitely hadn't sustained any injuries from earlier.

So this was Black's latest conquest.

Still fuming at the events that had taken place in Transfiguration and suddenly feeling a lot better about the fact that Black had escaped unscathed, you decided to take the matter into your own hands.

You checked the time. You still had a few minutes before curfew-- and what was the harm in having a little fun?

His low groans were beginning to make you feel sick. Sliding your borrowed book back into place, you peeked around the corner and raised your wand, muttering, 'wingardium leviosa'.

A simple spell, but a classic.

A lock of hair on the back of Black's head swung up in the air then dropped down again. Thinking nothing of it, he absentmindedly reached for the back of his head and scratched it. Not once stopping the makeout session he was thoroughly engaged in.

Holding in a laugh, you repeated the same action. This time, causing two thick strands on either side of his head to painfully tug in opposite directions.

He yelped, causing the girl to jump in alarm. A grin tugged at your lips.

"Is everything okay?" She asked, wide-eyed as Black winced in pain, "Am I.. am I doing something wrong?"

He assured her that she wasn't, and they continued.

Like a moth to a flame, you thought spitefully, does he ever give up?

Deciding to wrap it up, you lifted all of his hair and yanked it back with such a force that he stumbled backwards into the bookshelf behind him- the same one you were currently hiding on the other side of.

Stifling a giggle, you quickly fled the scene just as the Ravenclaw girl screamed in surprise. The last thing you heard was Madam Pince rushing to investigate and, in a voice that could only be described as one of immense disgust,

"10 points from Gryffindor, Black, for using the library as a place for such.. odious activity."

thank you for reading! lmk your thoughts on this part :') sorry that it took so long to update, and thank you for being patient with me <3

feedback appreciated as long as it's given kindly :')

taglist ;

@cumslutforaemond @blackst0nes7077 @s0vval

[olderthannetfic]

Something fascinating happened recently. I saw a white YouTuber put out a video called "Why you SUCK at writing: Black People" and say to never, ever do black superheroes with lightning powers and challenged commenters to name 5 black characters without lightning powers. Many people in the comments had lists of 10+ characters without lightning powers. His pinned comment is him saying, "I get a kick out of this! Now name 5 that aren't the following common ones people default to [list of characters here]" and the replies have more black characters listed who don't have lightning powers. He then triples down and goes, "the point is there's too many of them!" When someone replies that good representation is not as shallow as not having lightning powers, it's about 'did you write a character or did you write comic relief like Frozone with no purpose outside of being the black best friend?', he boldly proclaims that the black person he's talking is taking things too seriously and it ain't that deep.

I instantly flashed back to however long ago it was that someone brought up a commenter who had said that black characters with lightning powers were bad and stereotypical. And I am as lost now as I am then. While I'm not black, I am a double minority in my country, and if given the choice between Black Lightning, Static from Static Shock, Miles Morales, or Frozone as representation for either group I'm from? I'll take the well-developed main characters who have love interests, plotlines, character arcs, and impact on the plot and stakes over a dude whose most notable scenes are helping a white guy out via one usage of his superpowers and later yelling at his wife for his supersuit.

I am begging white people who write to tell me, a non-black, non-white person who is surely missing some cultural context: what exactly is wrong with giving a black character electric powers? And how did it become some kind of line-in-the-sand, "I'm not racist, I'm against electric/lightning powers" thing? Because personally, when I see a white man telling black people they're wrong to like black characters with the "wrong" power, my mind doesn't go, "ah, yes, what a wise ally", it goes, "why aren't you listening to the people you say you're speaking for?"

And before anyone says "well it's been done before, that's the problem" - I don't see anyone saying white men can't have Superman's powers or be supersoldiers even though there's many, many more of those than there are black electricity users. Why do white people get to have any superpower and it's fine, but black people get barred from this superpower or else it's bad writing? No other ethnic group gets told they can't have a specific superpower. It feels a bit wrong to say that in the name of equality, a superpower is off-limits to anyone with too much melanin in them.

--

[icycoldninja]

hihi!! may i pretty please request some sparda boys + v x musician reader, preferably a pianist or vocalist? would greatly appreciate it i love love love your hcs so much

Yup yup, here you go!

Sparda boys + V x Musician!Reader headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

Oh, you've hit the jackpot. Dante loves listening to and playing music; the fact that you're a musician makes it all better.

-Hopefully you play the drums, bass guitar, keyboard, or something like that because Dante rocks the electric guitar.

-If you're a singer, great, Dante will try to start up a 2-person band.

-It probably won't work, but he doesn't care, he just wants an excuse to hang out with his favorite person.

-You and Dante will have a blast jamming together in the lobby of Devil May Cry, pissing off all your neighbors, upsetting Vergil, and scaring off any potential clients.

-You two are an incredibly loud and badass duo, whose music career will probably never take off, but whatever, you only make music because it's fun.

■ Vergil ■

-Vergil is a sophisticated man who appreciates the finer things in life, like classical music.

-He plays the violin himself, so if you play something equally elegant such as the piano, flute, cello, or something like that, he would love it.

-You two could also have jam sessions, except more refined and delicate.

-If you're a good singer, that would be so cool because then Vergil could hav someone sing lyrics while he plays the violin. Of course, he'll have to write the lyrics, (poetry skills finally paying off) but that's just more fun.

-If you happen to play the flute or trumpet very well, you can scare the crap out of Dante by playing mystical music in the middle of the night, making him wonder if Devil May Cry is haunted.

-Or you could serenade Vergil with magical fairytale music and possibly lull him to sleep in the process--whatever works for you.

□ Nero □

-Nero likes heavy metal music with lots of drums, so if you know how to play those, great for you.

-He actually knows a little bit about operating a synthesizer, but nothing more. If you could teach him, that'd be nice.

-He'd love to pick up guitar, but he's way too rough with it and his fingers aren't delicate enough for picking. He actually snapped a couple of strings the first time he tried.

-Nero is also a pretty decent singer. He doesn't have the vocal chords of Freddy Mercury, but he can at least hit high notes pretty well.

-If you are also blessed with awesome singing skills, expect regular karoeke dates, where you and Nero rock out to metal songs, rock songs, and occasionally love ballads.

-Honestly, you two have a better chance at succeeding in the music industry than anyone else mentioned on this list. You two just need a guitarist, maybe a bassist, and you're set.

● V ●

-V, being part of Vergil, enjoys classical music more than anything else--but that doesn't mean he dislikes other types of music.

-V has a secret fascination with pop songs that he just can't understand. Perhaps it's because he's never heard such music before, maybe it's because he just likes the bouncy beats, or maybe it's because he's just a dork.

-Since he is a competent poet, he can easily write lyrics for you, should you happen to be a singer.

-He would love to learn the piano, so if you are able to play, please teach him.

-If you play a string instrument like a violin, guitar, or something like that, V would love to just sit and watch you practice. It's oddly calming.

-If you can play the flute, tuba, or some other similar instrument, he will enjoy observing you play.

[centuryberry]

Ok I gotta ask- I have read Queen Of The Mountain like 5 Times in the past 3days because of how addictive it is and i just cant get this thought to go away and i havent seen anyone else mention a scenario like this, so

How do you think the og/cannon lmk crew would react to the QOTM crew? (And vice-versa too) Like Mk and his friends meeting Yue's crew that's adventuring with her and realizing why they're so similar. The way the QOTM crew would act around Og Wukong and Macaque with them being confused and then the Og Crew getting to meet girl dad! Sun Wukong who's ripping apart reality with his bare hands with his equally as furious husband and their co parent partners beside him while being followed by DBK and PIF who are rushing for the son. I just can't get the thoughts to go away, I love love love when people make such unique Aus like this that gets my mind running!

In general, the LMK crew and the QOTM crew would be fascinated with each other. There are so many similarities and yet so many differences. The significant ones being: Yue, Louhou & Jidu, Shanzha, and RinRin.

There's a whole lot of Celestial Primate lore dump and some storytelling on the QOTM side of things and some fanboying and questioning from the LMK side. Tang is especially interested in the changes in QOTM's JTTW and its circumstances.

LMK!Wukong and LMK!Macaque wouldn't know what to do with Yue and the twins so they'd keep them at arm's length. Wukong would do his "heroic celebrity" persona and Macaque physically distance himself from all of them. Yue wouldn't take this personally, but the twins would be confused and sad.

Out of everyone, Pigsy would warm up to Girl Dad!Wukong the most. He'd exchange child-rearing stories with the monkey and actually listen to the monkey ramble about his "amazing perfect smart daughter" and his "adorable rambunctious twin sons" for hours.

LMK!Shadowpeach would be loudly disgusted by QOTM!Shadowpeach's established relationship while inwardly feeling super conflicted and somewhat envious of the family that they created. Meanwhile, QOTM!Shadowpeach would feel slightly horrified at the state of their counterpart's relationship. The worst part is that they could see how things could have played out without Yue coming into their lives and changing them for the better.

[wandashousewife]

“Dear Child.” (Chapter Three)

Pairing — Wanda x Reader

Synopsis — Your father was notorious for going on failed tinder dates for years after your mother had left for her own reasons which she never told you. You never actually thought your father had a chance in the vast sea of relationships until you found out that one of his friends knew a European woman a couple years older than you who wanted to marry him. Strange.

Warnings — Failure dad, absent mother

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

In the intervening weeks since that pivotal night, a remarkable transformation had unfolded within the confines of your household—a metamorphosis characterized by the gradual dissolution of barriers and the emergence of newfound camaraderie between you and Wanda. What had once been shrouded in uncertainty and apprehension now blossomed into a blossoming friendship, marked by shared moments of laughter, companionship, and mutual understanding.

The advent of movie nights and shopping excursions served as tangible evidence of the deepening bond that now flourished between you, each shared experience a testament to the enduring power of connection forged amidst the backdrop of unlikely circumstances. In Wanda, you found not just a stepmother, but a confidante—a kindred spirit with whom to share life's joys and sorrows, a beacon of support amidst the tumult of adolescence.

As the days stretched into weeks, the once-distant horizon of familiarity now beckoned with the promise of shared adventures and cherished memories, a testament to the transformative power of human connection to bridge the vast expanse that separates strangers and kindred spirits alike. In Wanda, you had found not just a best friend, but a cherished companion—a steadfast ally whose presence illuminated the path forward, guiding you through the labyrinth of life's uncertainties with unwavering grace and unspoken understanding.

The two of you had started to really open up with one another. You trusted Wanda with the little nuances of your life that you didn’t want to share with anyone else—your family, friends, other classmates; no one except her. It was as if she saw you, really saw you, in a way that felt so natural, but so intimate, like she could read your heart. You had started to think of Wanda not only as your best friend and stepmother, but also as your confidante.

As the rain pelted against the windowpanes with a rhythmic cadence, enveloping the world outside in a shroud of gray, the comforting aroma of dinner wafted through the air, drawing you irresistibly into the heart of the kitchen. Against the backdrop of inclement weather, Wanda moved with effortless grace amidst the array of pots and pans, her deft hands orchestrating a culinary symphony that promised warmth and nourishment in equal measure.

The tantalizing scent of simmering spices and savory delights enveloped you like a welcoming embrace, coaxing you closer to the source of this culinary magic. With each step, anticipation swelled within you, mingling with the soothing patter of raindrops against the window as you crossed the threshold into the heart of the bustling kitchen.

There, amidst the gentle glow of lamplight, Wanda greeted you with a warm smile, her eyes alight with the flickering dance of candle flames. In her presence, the dreariness of the rainy evening faded into insignificance, replaced by a sense of comfort and camaraderie that transcended the confines of mere companionship. As you settled into the comforting embrace of the kitchen, the promise of shared moments and cherished memories beckoned, a beacon of light amidst the encroaching darkness of the stormy night.

You and Wanda chatted for a bit about your respective day before Wanda went to the stove to stir and check on whatever she was cooking. Her back was turned towards you, giving you the excuse to look at her for a few seconds longer; to take in her form. It was always fascinating to watch how she carried herself. She had this air of grace and elegance that, even in casual clothes, made Wanda just… breathtaking, if you dare say.

You had been staring at her for a few good seconds—a few seconds too long, as it turns out—because before you knew it, Wanda had turned around to face you, a bright smile playing on her lips. She had noticed that you were staring at her and hadn’t been shy to call you out. “You looking at something?” “The air.”

She raises her eyebrow, clearly amused by your response. She knows you were staring at her and was testing you. “Really? I could’ve sworn you were staring at something else.”

“Nope!”

Wanda smiles slightly. “Uh-huh.” She leans back against the countertop. “You sure about that?” Her tone is playful, as if she’s teasing you. But the underlying meaning in her question is one of suspicion—after all, she had just caught you peeking.

You then lifted yourself on the countertop and sat down, your legs dangling from the strangely tall height.

Wanda couldn’t help but notice how your feet dangled from the countertop, how much closer you were physically to her. She wasn’t sure when, but you hadn’t sat this close to her before either. It made her feel a bit uneasy, but she pushed those thoughts away and tried to ignore her nervousness.

“So,” she starts, smiling at you, “anything on your mind tonight?”

“Not really, I might head to the mall with my friends later. Apparently there’s a sale.” You sighed, remembering how hyped your friends were to go to this stupid sale. You couldn’t care less that it was Black Friday.

She chuckles. “I don’t get the obsession with Black Friday deals when you can literally buy stuff cheaper online.” She shrugs. “But I guess the appeal might be that it’s the holiday season. Plus, it’s a great excuse to get out of the house and just be with friends.” She adds the last part with a slight glint in her eyes, obviously hinting at something.

“Hey, can I borrow your hoodie? It’s just going to be for the store and mine isn’t really dry yet…”

She smiles softly, and without hesitation, takes off her pink hoodie and hands it to you. It drapes perfectly over your body. You notice her staring at you again, taking in the sight of you in one of her hoodies. Her eyes seem to be locked onto your form, as if she were imagining something else. You notice this.

As you finish adjusting the garment, you notice a subtle shift in Wanda's demeanor—a fleeting moment of vulnerability that belies her usual confidence. With arms crossed over her chest and lips caught between her teeth, she exudes an air of uncertainty, her voice tinged with a softness that speaks volumes of the inner turmoil she seeks to conceal.

"It fits…" Her words hang in the air, suffused with a delicate balance of hope and trepidation. Beneath the surface, a palpable tension lingers—a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken emotions that swirl between you, waiting to be acknowledged and embraced.

In that fleeting moment, you catch a glimpse of the woman behind the facade—the layers of strength and vulnerability intertwined in a delicate dance of authenticity. As you meet her gaze, a silent understanding passes between you, bridging the gap that separates your respective worlds with the shared language of empathy and compassion.

“It does fit.” You smile, looking at her.

Her heart skips a beat as she stares at you, her eyes widening with sudden realization. Your eyes are fixed on her lips, and she can almost feel the intense scrutiny and the burning stare of your gaze. She fidgets nervously, taking a step away from you.

There's a brief, awkward moment of silence as the two of you exchange glances with one another. And then Wanda breaks the silence with a joke. “Does it really fit, though?”

“Girl, what are you talking about?” Your response makes Wanda blush. It was subtle, but nevertheless, you could tell she was caught off guard. Her cheeks turned a rosy pink and her eyes widened. A brief, awkward moment of silence ensued before Wanda spoke up, “Well, you're—you know—” She trails off, the smile disappearing from her face.

“I’m what?”

Wanda blushes even more and her voice is barely audible. “You’re beautiful, that's what I mean.” She clears her throat. “The sweatshirt covers you in a way that makes you look amazing. More so than me, I’d say.”

Her compliment seems genuine, almost as if she’s unaware of her own beauty. But as she’s talking, her gaze shifts away from you and down towards her hands, which she’s fidgeting with. There’s a brief flicker in the girlish sparkle of her eyes.

“Thanks, but I have to go now.” You softly laughed at her awkwardness, taking it as platonic compliments. “Dads about to come home from work and I am not going to hear his complaining.”

Her face falls slightly, but she forces a smile on her lips to conceal her sudden dismay. “Yeah. Have a good one.” She shrugs, glancing down as she watches you leave.

But despite your reassurance, she can’t shake the sense that there was something more. A hint of longing in your eyes. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

She watches your back as you walk out of the kitchen, biting her lip as she struggles to process her own feelings.

[tuckersdeslauriers]

What do you make of Tim's behavior in the last few episodes? I feel like he's a totally different person and it's making me sad to see him disrespecting Lucy so much.

just up front: it feels v clear to me that we do not share an opinion on this storyline from the tone of this ask, and so i am going to discuss this but would just like to preface that this is only my opinion and i respect that you/anyone else engaging with this post may have a different one. i am allowed to feel the way i feel, as are you. i am not trying to change or discredit anyone's opinions just because they're different than mine.

that being said - i will be honest with you, i don't really see where he's disrespected lucy. before you (and whoever else is reading this) jump me, let me explain myself.

tim went through something very difficult and traumatic with the resurgence of his wartime trauma and he made the decision not to involve lucy as he navigated said trauma. while it may not have been the best choice for their relationship, tim made the choice he felt was right in the moment. though we may not agree with it as viewers and lucy may not agree with it as tim's partner, he had the right to do that, and he explained to the best of his ability in the moment that he was keeping her out of the situation to ensure she didn't get hurt/her career wasn't impacted.

to me, that didn't feel disrespectful - it felt like tim relying on his tried and true methods of keeping the people he loves safe from him/the potential danger surrounding him. he was working with the tools he had available, even if they may not be the "right" tools for the job.

like, was it fucked that he ignored her for 36 hours? absolutely! that was disrespectful in some ways - but i think if you zoom out a little, it's not right, but it's understandable.

in the end of 5x07, lucy stops tim in the hallway at the station and asks him to talk to her - and i have seen a bunch of people who are really angry about the way tim handled that convo, so i wonder if that's what you mean by disrespect. generally, a few thoughts about that scene:

lucy approached tim hot - which, let me be clear: she had every right to. she was in her feels all day, she had something she wanted to say to him, and she was already a bit revved up coming to him. but she came into that conversation already looking for something specific, where tim was just...guard down, a little goofily happy to see her, probably a little nervous to talk to her at all.

tim wasn't given the opportunity to say much of anything. lucy asked if they could have "an adult conversation" (patronizing, but i don't blame her for it - he deserved that) and when tim explained he "couldn't give her what she wanted", lucy snapped. i understand the snap - i would've done the same - but tim had no space to continue talking there. that wasn't a conversation. lucy got her opportunity to unload on him a bit, which i think she needed. think about the breakup - lucy didn't get the chance to argue a side there, and tim didn't get the chance to argue a side here. they're equal on that kind of convo now, which i find fascinating.

so, is tim being honest with her and saying he can't give her what she needs right now disrespectful? i don't really think so. i think lucy is looking for something that tim can't give her right now - himself. tim has to sort through all his shit before he can be the best version of himself for lucy - in his tim brain, he doesn't think he can support her fully without working on himself first...and honestly? i think that's noble. lucy is far too close to the picture to see that tim has some really big issues he needs to work on outside of the scope of their relationship. i don't blame her for that, but it's just...true.

she can't be the person to help tim find himself at this point in his life. that's not fair to her or their relationship - so i think he's made the right choice here, as much as it hurts both of them.

i would also be remiss if i didn't mention that i think there's a huge part of this situation that lucy still needs to realize is on her. she has problems of her own, too! girl knows she's not perfect - but she has yet to address her own problems, and i think that's such an issue. tim is taking initiative to resolve his problems, even if it's not in a way that she agrees with. lucy isn't. just like their relationship already had issues, lucy has her own set. this wasn't the defining problem - this was just the straw that broke the camel's back in a lot of ways.

i hope this answers your question tbh bc i feel like i just rambled a bunch - but i'm always up to chat about this kind of stuff, so feel free to come back to me with more if i haven't annoyed you too much 😂