#he only cares if he deems it worth talking about and that's not as easy as it seems

[beforecreation]

The hardest part of finding ask prompts for Beerus is that his responses can usually be summed as "That's rough buddy" or "Would you like to talk about your emotions Tien" "No"

So I'd have to think about using as many synonyms as I could to spice his responses up.

[eclecticmiasma]

Yandere DunMeshi MBTI: Laios Touden

No one in the world requested this, I just think this man needs to be studied under a microscope and I can't quit rolling him around in my brain. Headcanons based on the Yandere MBTI indicator conceptualized by the lovely ddarker-dreams! Please send them love and feel free to request me for any characters. [Warnings: general yandere scariness]

CRUEL Vs. REVERENT Darling captures Laios's attention primarily because they are kind. They smile at his stories even if he's told them a hundred times before, they ask him questions about monsters and don't shy away when he pulls out a tome's worth of notes detailing each one. Darling always has a terrible look on their face when Laios is injured and has never once made him feel less than. To Laios, darling is the sun.

If darling is part of his party, they can expect to be doted on, fussed over, and guarded to a point where the only time they are truly alone is when bathing. Even then, Chilchuck has to constantly assure Laios that darling is absolutely fine, much to his chagrin. If they are injured or die, Laios almost becomes a different person for hours after they're revived. He's anxious, snappy, even hostile until darling can bring him back down with their calm nature.

If darling isn't in the party, they can still expect to see Laios nearly all of the time. Sometimes it doesn't quite make sense how Laios can go on so many trips to the dungeon and yet still have time to consistently be in darling's personal space on the surface. Darling can expect to receive souvenirs from the dungeon (mostly monster parts, always frightening) and letters about adventures that Laios will simply tell them again in person anyway. He'll insist on walking them home and greeting them in the morning before he leaves to the dungeons again.

AWARE VS. DELUSIONAL

All Laios knows is that the emotion he feels when the object of his affection is around seems measurably different than his love for his sister or love for his friends. Truth be told, there has always been a nagging worry at the back of his mind that he might never be able to feel for a human the way he loves adventuring or studying monsters. That he's doomed to a life of solitude surrounded by nothing that understands him. When darling comes along, they're like a beacon of light that tells Laios he's capable of being normal for once. After all, he finally feels the kind of love he's been lectured time and time again that he should be feeling at his age. A chivalrous need to protect, to treasure, to study and bring gifts and share meals and troubles and maybe, just maybe even taste and touch and devour- It's just what loving someone means.

MANIPULATIVE VS. HONEST

There is no need to manipulate darling because Laios himself doesn't feel that any of his behavior is wrong. He doesn't know how to be anything but himself, and any hint darling or others try to give him that maybe his interactions are bordering on unhealthy and obsessive don't reach him at all. If darling says they'd better get going, Laios is there to walk them home. If Marcille tries to tell Laios that darling is perfectly capable of taking care of themselves, he marvels at how talented darling is and then does nothing to change his behavior. If Namari outright tells him that he needs to give darling space, he'll nod seriously and then decide that sitting across from darling and not next to darling is sufficient. In Laios's mind, everything is perfect.

STRICT VS. LENIENT

As long as darling is safe, or what Laios deems to be safe, everything is fine. Darling can do what they want on the surface, talk to whom they want on the surface, go dungeoneering if darling is part of the party. Problems begin to arise when that sense of security wanes. The look of that gnome chatting with darling isn't one that Laios likes. As a tall-man, it's very easy to keep him from speaking to darling ever again. Darling wants to go on a trip to Kahka Brud, Laios is quick to insist that he come along. After a particularly nasty event in the dungeon, Laios might make it his mission that darling never venture beneath the surface again. Laios is harmless until threatened- that's when his brand of love becomes suffocation.

*do not post elsewhere without explicit permission. please consider reblogging, as Tumblr tends to hide darker content!

[RULES] [MASTERLISTS] [AO3] [KO-FI]

[etherealxwitch]

Soft

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Plus Size!Reader

Summary: Eddie is determined to show you your worth after having a couple of hard days

Warnings: SMUT (minors DNI), angst, body image issues, self hate, reader crying, gentle dom!eddie, body worship, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, fluffy ending

WC: 3.4K

(This fic means a lot to me personally and I others can relate to this somehow! happy reading!)

Remember to reblog and support the author!

Eddie admired you. He admired the way you always cared for those around you, the way you were so good at your photography job, and how you took pride in it. What he admired most about you though, was you. Admired the way you were never afraid to show off your body or how much you weren’t afraid to love yourself. Lately, Eddie had noticed a change in you. You were usually so confident in yourself, but recently, it felt like you had been hiding. Not just your body, but just you. You were usually the one to come and talk to him about anything, but you’ve been quiet and he was worried. He thought maybe he had done something wrong, but that wasn’t true at all. You were just going through a tough time with your body and it was hard to find words to explain it all. Eddie was patient though, he would be there when you are ready enough to tell him.

Today was no different. You came home to the trailer and immediately sat down on the couch. Hopefully, the couch itself would just swallow you whole and you could forget about everything that was going on. Being a bigger girl was never easy and lately, it seemed like the problem was getting worse for you. You were never the one to hate your body, you always had confidence in the rolls on your stomach or the way your legs jiggle when you walked. 

Something changed within you though. It was like a switch went off in your mind and you hate everything about you. You could hardly look into a mirror without wanting to break it or cut the fat from yourself. Who was there to blame this on? Was it society for deeming your body type “unhealthy,” or was it yourself for being too much of an over thinker? 

Rather quickly, you pushed those thoughts from your head when you heard Eddie walking up the old rickety steps. You tried to put on your best smile so he could be welcomed home in a nice way. As soon as he saw you, his eyes lit up. The pain in your heart worsened when you realized that not only were your thoughts affecting you, but him when he found out.

Eddie placed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, careful to not get grease for the shop all over you. “Hi, sweetheart.” He gave you a soft smile, the total opposite of how he looked. Eddie was covered in grease and his overalls were tied around his waist. You got lucky when it came to him, but did he get lucky when it came to you?

“Hi.” Was all you said, your voice came out softer than usual. Eddie gave you a look, a look like he wanted to pry but he was scared of the reaction that you might have. You watched as he walked back into the room and you let out a breath you didn’t know that you were holding in. It was like a sigh of relief once you realized that you were alone again and could stop faking a smile.

It was a bit before Eddie came out of your shared bedroom. You noticed the new change of clothes he had put on before he sat beside you, his arm coming over your shoulder. He turned to you and you noticed the softness of his face. His big brown eyes looked over at your face. What he was looking for, you don’t know. Maybe a sign of happiness, a sign of something. Eddie opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out at first.

After a clear of his throat and running a hand through his hair, it finally seemed like he was ready to speak. “I don’t want to push you, but you gotta tell me what’s going on with you, baby.” 

And that’s when the dam broke. You felt the tears prick your eyes before they slid down your face and your hand flew up to immediately wipe them away. You didn’t want Eddie to see you this way, you didn’t want him to see you so weak, so.. destroyed. Absentmindedly, you turned your head away from him, you really didn’t want him to see you this way. Before you could fully turn away, Eddie gently cupped your cheek between his forefinger and his thumb, beckoning you to please look at him. A soft “please,” falling from his lips.

After mustering up enough courage, you looked at him and your heart broke at the look in your eyes. His brown eyes were full of sympathy and hopefulness that maybe you would finally tell him what’s been going on. 

“I just want to make sure you’re okay,” he reassured you as his thumb grazed at your cheek, wiping at your falling tears.

Eddie’s touch made you just want to melt into him, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t because you had to inevitably tell him what was wrong. Sighing, you got out of his light grasp and stood up and away from the couch. More tears were already falling from your eyes, this time out of fear. Fear that once Eddie sees what was “wrong,” and sees you how you see you, he would leave. At first, nothing came out when you opened your mouth to speak but a strangled and weak breath. Eddie went to stand up, go comfort you, but you stopped him. 

“You want to know what’s so wrong, Eddie?” You were sarcastically smiling through the tears now and that made him even more worried. “It’s me, I’m what’s so wrong.” He tried to stop you, but you put your hand up in protest. “M-my body is what is wrong,” the words got caught in your throat when you first said them, it was like you were finally speaking the truth to yourself and him. 

“Baby, that’s not true.” How was he not seeing it yet? Did you have to put it out to him? Was he that blind to what was right in front of him this whole time? He assured you as he leaned forward from his slumped seat on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees. 

“Not true?” You laughed a little, thinking that it was some kind of sick joke. You began to grab at random places on your body, to help him see. “Look at the rolls on my stomach,” you grabbed at it before moving your hands down your legs. “Or, look at my thighs when I walk.” You sniffled back the tears as much as you could, you wanted your voice to come out as clear as possible. “Every part about me and my body is horrible and I don’t know how you’re so blind to it, Eddie.” 

You backed away once you noticed that Eddie was now standing and making his way towards you. You weren’t  afraid of him, but that didn’t stop you from cowering anyway. Eddie grabbed your arm, not enough to hurt you, but enough to hold you tightly. He led you to the bedroom and stopped in front of the full length mirror. You turned your head away from your reflection, the looks of you beside him making you want to cry even more. 

“Stop that.” Eddie gripped your cheeks softly and moved your head back to look in the mirror. “There is nothing wrong with you or your body.” His hands moved for your face down to the front of your shirt, his fingers working on the buttons. 

“Eddie, what-,” you began to whisper before he cut you off with a look through the mirror and you clasped your lips shut. He wasn’t angry, but you didn’t want to ever make him angry. His head shook as he opened your now unbuttoned shirt and placed his calloused hands on your belly. 

“I’m going to show you that there is not a damn thing wrong with you or your body.” Eddie’s hands ran over your hips and stomach until they came to a stop at the top of your jeans. “Do you know how fucking beautiful you are to me?” The buttons of your jeans popped open and he slowly slid them down your legs, caressing your thighs. “I love everything about you.” You felt his lips press against the backside of your thighs. He was kissing all over your thighs, trying so hard to prove how he saw you. 

“Eddie, you don’t have to do this.. really.” Your tears had finally subsided and you could now speak without your voice sounding so broken. You turned around to face Eddie and helped him stand up. He engulfed you into his arms and pulled you close to his body, his chin resting on the top of your head. 

Silence fell over the two of you. It was a mix of comfortable but tense. Where do you go from here? 

Eddie started to move you back until your knees hit the edge of the bed and you sat on it. “I’m not done showing you, okay?” He kneeled so he was eye level with you and brushed some hair away from your face. “I want to show you just how much I worship you and your body, okay.” Eddie pressed a kiss to your forehead before moving down to kiss your lips. You lightly kissed back until he cupped the back of your head and swiped his tongue over your bottom lip. “Do you want this?”

Slowly, you nodded your head. Even though you just had a breakdown over your weight and how you felt inside your body, the love in Eddie’s eyes made you feel safe, made you feel whole inside. It was weird how him just caressing your body can make you feel a bit better about yourself so quickly. His forehead came to rest against yours, a soft smile plastered on his face. “I need your words, sweetheart. Need you to vocally tell me that this is okay.” Eddie was being so careful with you and his words, he didn’t want to set you off again. 

“Yes, I want this.” Your voice was quiet, but Eddie gave you a small and reassuring smile when he heard that you wanted it; wanted him. 

Eddie laid your body against the bed and kissed up your thighs. Tonight would be all about your pleasure, all about making you feel good. His lips were soft and he added his teeth to the mix, slowly nibbling against your thigh. “I love these.” Eddie’s fingers dug into your thighs, spreading them further apart. “Love how soft they feel when I throw them over my shoulders and you pull me closer to you.” He threw one leg over his shoulder and traced his finger on the inner thigh of the other one. Your breath hitched when his finger hovered over your clit. “Just let me take care of you, please.”

A cold chill ran up your spine as Eddie parted your pussy lips with his thumbs, groaning at the sight of how glistening you were. “And I love this pussy.” His lips press a chaste kiss to your swollen clit, “always so wet and pretty for me.” A moan slipped for your lips when his tongue slowly swirled around your pussy, slurping up your wetness. He has barely started and you were already putty in his soft hands.

The thoughts about you hating your body was pushed to the back of your mind as Eddie spread your thighs further apart and licked all the way down to your wet hole. You felt his warm tongue slide in and your eyes immediately screwed shut. The pleasure took over your whole body as his tongue swirled inside you, licking practically every inch of you. Your hands flew to his curls, pulling on them. Eddie groaned against you, vibrating your body. 

“Oh god, Eddie.” The arousal mixed with Eddie’s spit dripped down your butt down to the bed. The mixture added with your moans became lewd and echoed off the thin trailer walls. “I- please.” What you were begging for, you didn’t know. You just know that you were so close and Eddie was making you feel so good. 

Eddie pulled away and you leaned up on your elbows to get a look at him. His chin and lips were covered in shine and he gave you a proud smirk. “Does it feel good, baby?” His fingers circled over your clit and kissed at the top of your mound. “All I want is to make you feel good.” 

Your hips bucked up into his touch and let out a sigh. “It feels so good, yes.” You nodded your head repeatedly, getting your point across. 

Gently, Eddie pushed your hips back down and slid a finger knuckle deep in you. You threw your head back against the pillows and you could hear Eddie chuckle between your thighs. “You gotta be patient, okay?” He added another finger and groaned against the skin of your thigh. “You’re so fucking tight,” he scissored his fingers, stretching you open. “God, I’m so lucky.”

A smile grew on your face just as you let out a gasp, “I’m so close already, Eddie.” You reached down a bit and started to roll your hard nipples in between your fingers. “So- fuck.” Your words were caught off in a moan with Eddie going back to licking your clit and suckling it in between his plump lips. Between his fingers and his mouth, your first orgasm of the night hit you hard. Your legs started to shake and your back arched off the bed. Eddie’s name fell from your mouth like a prayer. He groaned against you, curling his fingers as you kept cumming around them. 

Eddie pulled away from your clit and started to slow down his fingers, helping you come down from your blissful orgasm. “That’s it, baby.” He pressed more calming kisses to your thighs before finally pulling his fingers from your pussy, a squelching noise following them. He quickly brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking them dry. “I’ll never get over how you taste.” He moved up your body until his face was just hovering over yours and his lips were mere inches from yours. “Do you wanna taste it?” Eddie waited for you to nod and then he pressed his lips against yours, letting his tongue run over your bottom lip. Your tongue rolled over his and Eddie grounded his clothed, hard cock against you. 

You ran his fingers through his hair and gently tugged, a groan rumbling through his body. “I need you, please.”

“Just wait a bit more, sweetheart.” Eddie started to kiss down your neck and jaw. You could feel him sucking hickeys around your neck, showing you more just how much he really loved you. His kisses trailed lower down the valley of your breast before his lips hovered over one of your nipples. “I love your tits.” His tongue darted out to swirl around it, making you arching up into his mouth. “Just every part of you,” Eddie kissed to your other boob, blowing a breath over the other nipple, “is perfect.”

You bit your lip and made eye contact with Eddie just before he started to suck on your nipple. He used one of his hands to massage your other boob, giving it a squeeze and chuckling against you as you let out a breathy moan. You were growing more wet the more he touched you, you needed him. 

Pulling off with a pop, Eddie stood up at the end of the bed. He began to strip his clothes, starting with his shirt and then pulling down his pants and boxers in one go. His hard cock sprung forward and your mouth watered. The slit of the head practically dripped in his precum. He noticed the look in your eyes and shook his head. 

“There’s plenty of time for that later.” Eddie came back to hover over you, propping himself up on one arm so he doesn’t squish you. “Right now, I wanna make you cum around my cock.” 

Your heart began to beat with anticipation and your thighs spread, welcoming him. The head of his cock nudged against your clit and you whimpered. You were still sensitive from your last orgasm, but you needed more. You always needed more. 

Eddie kissed you again, molding your lips together. His lips never left yours, even when he reached down lined up his cock with your pussy. He thrusted in slowly, the two of you swallowing each other's moans. “Perfect, so perfect, baby.” His forehead rested against yours and you wrapped your legs around his waist. “I love you,” his hands grabbed at your hips as he pushed his cock in the rest of the way. “So fucking much.” 

Your hips bucked up into his as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. “I-I love you, too.” You could barely form the words, feeling him deep inside you taking over your body. 

The bedroom quickly filled up with the noises of skin slapping against skin and moans. Eddie was thrusting in and out of you at such a fast pace, the headboard was hitting against the wall. “Say you’re pretty,” his thumb came down to rub at your clit. “Say it, baby.” 

“I’m pretty.” You whined out the words and tried so hard to compose yourself. He was hitting that sweet spot deep inside you already and he had barely even started. Your legs locked around his waist, pulling him deeper inside you and your nails raked down his back. He groaned out your name above you, causing you to blush. “You’re making me feel good.”

One sharp thrust had you arching your back off the bed and into Eddie’s chest. One of his hands came and rested over your stomach, feeling it jiggle each time he fucked into you. “So soft.” 

He wrapped an arm around your back and pulled you into him. “Gonna make me cum so deep inside you.” His hips snapped against yours, his balls slapping against your ass. “My pretty girl,” his head fell to your shoulder. “Mine.”

You clenched around his cock at his words. He was making you believe just how pretty and perfect you are. “I’m so close, Eddie. So close.” You could feel yourself nearing your orgasm and body began to shake. 

“Let go, baby. Cum all over my cock.” 

His words were enough to do you in. Your whole body reacted to your orgasm. Your toes began to curl and your body shook. “Yes! God, yes!” You felt a gush spill out of you and all over Eddie’s cock, soaking the bed. “D-don’t stop, please.” Each thrust of Eddie’s hips were making you cum more, you weren’t stopping. 

Feeling you squirt and clench around his cock, Eddie couldn’t hold it any longer. “S-shit, feels so goddamn good.” His hips stuttered as he came deep inside your pussy. He was filling you with his cum as your name fell from his lips. 

After moments, the only thing heard was heavy breathing. Eddie and you were sensitive and spent, but neither of you wanted to move just yet. 

Eddie was the first to speak up. “I meant what I said,” his lips pressing to your very sweaty forehead. “You are perfect and there will never be anything wrong with you.” He pulled out as he finished the sentence, causing you two to hiss from the sensation. You could feel his cum start to drip out of you but you didn’t mind. 

Quickly, Eddie left the room and came back with a damp towel. He began to clean you up when you finally spoke up. “I believe you.” Each wipe of the towel against you makes you wince just a little. “I believe you, Eddie.”

The towel was thrown somewhere in the room before Eddie came to lay down next to you. He pulled your back against his chest and traced his fingers over the stretch marks that were scattered across your hips. “I will always prove how perfect you are.” Eddie finally made you believe. “Always.” 

You snuggled against him, resting your hand over his. You got lucky with Eddie, he thought you were perfect but in all reality, you two were perfect with each other.

tagging: @onehotgreasymechanic @dixontardis @thefreakofhawkins86 @hellfire-isnt-it @wroteclassicaly @multifan-smc @conquerwhatliesahead92 @satellitesunshine @paprikaquinn @sleepyamaya @imdoingbetternow @babeyglo @munsonology @eddiethesexy @strangerthings64 @rossmccallsqueen @cremedelabrulee @rockautumnfanfic

[radvimes]

A response to the LDS Church's new Anti-Trans Policies

I just sent the following email to lgbt@churchofjesuschrist.org, and thought it would be worth sharing here, as well:

To whom it may concern, assuming it concerns anyone in HQ-

This email may not be perfectly worded, but I felt it was more important to voice my concerns now than to wait to word them perfectly. I may send more emails in the future.

As far as I can tell, I am exactly the sort of person you want to remain in the church: lifelong member, returned missionary, temple recommend holder, temple worker, sealed in the temple, 3 kids, upper middle class educated Millennial straight white male Melchizidek priesthood holder with nonmember friends that I talk religion with on occasion. However, you're losing me and people like me. I listened to what the church has taught me all my life. I served a mission and went to a non-church college with an institute program and met all sorts of new people from all sorts of backgrounds. I learned that my mission president was secretly gay, and had been repressing it all his life due to harmful church teachings and cultural pressure. I sat with these experiences. When we started the Come, Follow Me program, I faithfully studied all 4 books of scripture in a way I never had before. As I did so, I recognized that the messages I saw taught over and over and over were ones of love and grace. I learned that Sodom and Gomorrah's sin wasn't homosexuality, like I'd heard all my life. It was pride and a refusal to care for the poor and needy. Jesus didn't call people to repentance for being lax in their temple worship or observance of church law; he called them to love one another, pray for one another, be humble, and actually feed and care for one another, especially those we deem unclean, unworthy, or the "least" of us. He showed over and over that his good news is often a kind word, a loving hug, and an invitation to share a meal and a table.

Today, as is poignantly demonstrated by remarks by leaders like Elder Holland and President Oaks, and by relevant church handbook policies over the last decade and the last month, it is easy to conclude that in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, our LGBTQIA2S+ siblings are considered the least of us, even unclean, unworthy, and unwelcome. I had a Jewish friend ask me to tell him about the recent policy changes re: how the church treats trans members, and I had gotten maybe halfway through the changes when he simply said, with a sober expression "so the church has made it clear they aren't welcome, then?" Whether that was the intention or not, that is the message we are sending, loud and clear. That simply cannot be the message our loving Heavenly Parents and loving Savior have for us and our queer siblings. If the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is meant to share the good news of Christ with all of God's children, then we need to actually figure out what good news we have to share with God's children who are queer, or who are like me and care about those that are, and we need to do it quickly, because right now, the only news we have is that they aren't welcome, that we don't particularly have a place for them, and that we don't especially care to. We can do better. We must do better. Right now, we are failing far too many, and it breaks my heart, and the hearts of so many who want to heed Jesus' good news and the 2 great commands to love. We went through a very similar struggle with regards to our black siblings, and did at least 1 right thing in 1978. We can do more right things again.

Regards,

[radvimes]

[pianokantzart]

I want to discuss the difference in the relationship between Mario and Luigi in the games vs in the movie universe. I mean, is their bond wholesome in both scenarios? Yes. Obviously. But there is a special closeness between Movie Mario and Luigi that I really need to ramble about. In the games, Mario was born into the world where he belongs– a world that needed a daring hero. One of his first acts was to go on an adventure to rescue his brother, even though he was a literal infant at that time. He hit the ground running the moment he gained consciousness, and hasn’t slowed down since. Everyone sees this heroism and determination, and admires him for it.

But in the Movie Verse, Mario is born into a lower-middle class family of blue collar workers in a world that doesn’t take well to reckless heroism. Bullheaded bravery is considered amusing at best, and an embarrassment at worst. There are no monsters to fight or princesses to save, there is only money to make and jobs to do, and Mario does his best to adapt.

In the games (the Mario & Luigi RPGs in particular) Mario doesn’t react to people disregarding or talking down to Luigi unless Luigi shows it bothers him, because, otherwise, I don’t think Mario even knows it hurts him. He probably thinks that surely Luigi knows his worth, and that there’s no use getting defensive over pointless nonsense when there’s more important things at stake. There is a lot of love between the brothers, but there is also the natural divide between someone who has fit in effortlessly his entire life, and someone who has been struggling desperately to keep up with him, just to get brushed aside because he doesn’t measure up in the eyes of the world.

Heroism doesn’t come easy to Luigi, but he does it anyways because he cares about his brother, and wants to do the right thing.

In both the games and the movie Luigi is an anxious, goofy, clumsy victim of continuous bad luck, whose kindness and good nature always shines through despite everything. He is deemed too gentle and nervous to fit in, an easy target who can be mistreated and pushed around without consequence... ... unless, of course, Mario is there.

In the games, Mario will argue on behalf of his brother if it’s clear his feelings are hurt, but in the movie verse Mario is prepared to throw hands in a heartbeat the moment you disrespect Luigi, because that version of Mario knows what it’s like to be talked down to. He knows what it’s like to be brushed aside and belittled, he knows that whether you take it personally or not all those small insults wear you down over time, and he isn’t going to let anyone do that to his little brother. 

On the flip side, Luigi is one of the few people who sees Mario for himself, and loves him for it. Though there are no monsters to fight or princesses to save (yet), Mario’s brashness helps Luigi stand up for himself... helps him move forward... balances him out. Luigi has always been the one person in this world who needed Mario to be as brave, bold, foolhardy, and heroic as he was.

Neither of them fit in, but they see each other and love each other for what everyone else has determined to be their weaknesses. 

In the games, Mario can easily stand on his own because he’s being helped, uplifted, and supported by everyone and everything around him.  In the movie? Luigi was, for the longest time, the only one who allowed him to truly be himself. 

[mothxmoons]

Baby trapping: Aftermath

What happened afterwards?

Afab but gender neutral

Baby trapping

Tw: Baby trapping/ Pregnancy/ Child birth/ Yandere/ Canon divergence

It had been a couple of weeks since the aphrodisiac incident between you and Wesker. He seemed to be way more clingy afterwards, protective essentially. He always saw you home, checked up on you, had lunch and sometimes dinner with you, would do paper work with you. Anything just to be near you. Neither of you brought up the incident, not that you needed to. It was obvious that it made you closer, however you were a little scared that it was only out of lust. This would be proved to be wrong as he asked you out on a date, both romantically and to talk about what had happened in the lab.

You two seemed to have talked the night away, ending up at his place, and just spending it in each other’s arms. It seemed like a casual relationship, but then you started to feel sick every morning. To be safe, you got one pregnancy test…one test became two, and two became three. It was pretty obvious what you had to tell Wesker the next day…as well as Irons for leave. You were never going to tell anyone what happened in that lab, nor were you going to tell who the dad was to anyone on the team. God you could just hear Jill and Chris if they found out.

So…with a little hesitation you did tell Wesker. Within a box, wrapped neatly. When Jill questioned about it, you just said it was a gift for him for protecting you on a solo mission a while back. It wasn’t…entirely untrue. Just a couple omitted details is all.

But when he opened that box? God. Did he love what was inside. Confirmed pregnancy test. Meaning all of his scheming to get to investigate that lab, to “accidentally” bump into the aphrodisiac case, to finally, finally having you all for himself was worth it and paying off. You two immediately had a chat outside of work, him utterly fascinated by the pregnancy. He treated you like glass, while you chastised him for doing so. Wesker helped you submit your leave to Irons, making sure it would get approved when the rest of STARS team would be deployed in the mansion. He also made sure no one else knew about why you were taking leave, just saying it was some personal matters and nothing more.

He would visit your home all the time, bringing food, helped clean around the house, helped set up a baby room, or baby proofed some of the house. It felt so sweetly domestic. It really felt like you two were settling down and starting a family together, well you were but this home for you and his future child was only temporary. Soon you’d be his spouse, taking care of your two’s family, out of danger, and living as pampered as you deserved. Wesker brought up that since you would be having his child, maybe you two should marry as soon as possible, to make it easier to raise the kid. Seeing no real problem in his plan, you agreed. Much to his delight.

With some undercover umbrella as your witness, you two were married and were set on building a life for your child. As your stomach grew the more fascinated he became with your body, kissing the bump as you two laid cuddled on your couch or bed. Hand constantly on your bump when cooking together. Just so utterly fascinated.

When the mansion incident happened you wouldn’t know until they arrived back. However, they didn’t arrive back quick enough. Wesker did though. He made sure to take you away from the city he deemed too filthy for his family. He also made sure to make it seem like there was a struggle and a kidnapping, and also stole all the baby stuff from the house. You would never know why, nor would you know. He said there was an emergency, and that you two needed to move for safety. No one will ever know that you were with child, or that you are with his child. He needed you, he wanted you to be safe. And so, you were in a new place far far away from cities, just a small town in a very rural area. An easy place to hide his own mansion, to hide you, and a small town filled with his own employees.

When you had given birth to your son, he was ecstatic. Holding you close, and holding your newborn close to both of you. You had given him the greatest gift of all, and something to further his plans without you even knowing. He would watch his son grow up, and you his beloved spouse made the perfect parent. His son would never go wanting but also making sure he didn’t grow up spoiled.

The little copy of your husband loved to follow him around at home. Not that he minded. Your son was living proof of your love and devotion for Wesker. And by the time those fools figure out what happened all those years ago, it’s already too late.

And so to Perseus, the son, a legacy.

[vitanithepure]

Karlach/Wyll budding romance as a prompt for you?

“T’chaki!” Lae’zel threw her backpack. It landed right next to the fireplace, narrowly missing it. “If we keep on pandering to weaklings, we might as well surrender to the ghaik and be done with it.”

“Lae’zel, what happe-” Before Wyll could ask, another one landed right in his lap. He yelped in surprise, perhaps also in a bit of pain. The githyanki is not known for taking things lightly, throwing backpacks included, it seems.

“It was a perfectly valid concern on my part, I’ll have you know. We don’t need this much to carry around.”

Astarion saunters into the light of the fire, his demeanor unchanged from his usual self. Maybe a little wary of getting into the githyanki’s reach, but she obviously doesn’t deem him worthy of her attention right now. On the way to her tent, she runs her blade through a makeshift training dummy and leaves it there. 

“Besides, I am made for finer things than carrying around junk.” He meets Wyll’s unimpressed stare with a nonchalant shrug and he’s gone from view as well, light on his feet and unbothered.

“Bad night, soldier?”

“So much better now that you are here.” He places the backpack next to him with care and lets out a sigh. “They are good people. I wish life would remind them of this more often.”

Karlach sat down beside him, nudging Wyll with her shoulder. Her smile was, as always, nearly impossible to resist, he noted. 

“You’re too good. Don’t let them get you down, they could sometimes do with some righteous dressing-down. Pfft, fuck that, they even could use some ass-whooping if you want.”

Wyll took notice of how her crossed legs jumped uneasily, ready to spring her to her feet in a moment’s notice. How her hands tapped the dirt before her, fingers eager to grab something…anything. This close, he could clearly see the tension on her face. Her beautiful face, that in this moment he wished to see laughing, not wrought with worry.

“How about we forget about this,” Wyll stood up, and extended his hand to Karlach, “and do some sparring? I could shake that rust from my limbs and use some good company tonight.”

“Hell yeah!” She was up in a flash, towering over him enough for him to need to perk his head up. She withdrew her hand swiftly, leaving his to cool off in the evening air. “Shit, sorry, didn’t mean to.”

“I do not mind. I bear many scars, any you would give me I would wear with pride.”

“Careful soldier, you talk like that and a girl might get ideas.” She leaned in, but could not hold up the sultry voice. They both laughed, perhaps a bit embarrassed, or maybe because they felt it - that warm blossom in their chests.

And she was a sight to behold, the embodiment of joy and excitement, so easy to get lost in the moment and say all those lovely things that came to mind. And he saw it in her eyes as well, that lust for life, flesh bristling with contained desire. 

But he’ll wait. All good things are worth the wait, and to be done properly. Karlach deserves nothing less, and only the best from him.

[wuhei-archived]

i've seen a couple of people not like moze after the main story because of how he talked to dh / tb + "voluntarily" left jiao and ... as someone who has over-analyzed this man's 10 whole lines, there is a lot more to him than being stoic or rude.

moze did not want to leave jiao.

i repeat moze did not want to leave jiao. he waited until the last second, even after jiao urged him to go. it is only when there was literally no option for survival that he left to get help.

i guarantee you that these two planned this from the beginning. if something goes wrong, moze goes to get help. because moze has history in the shackling prison + his abilities enable him to move fast and go unnoticed.

moze was rude to the tb, but mainly in the lines where they are a, not understanding the best way to approach a situation like this ( i blame his work with the military / and the fact that he works alone most days, it was more like frustration that someone can't see what's obvious to him ) or b, they are joking with him in such a serious situation. that one is self explanatory. people died. there are bodies all around them. he witnesses war in his career too much to have someone .. joke. on the battlefield.

moze was poking at danheng to see his reaction. i think if anything he is curious about the high elder + his reincarnation that was locked away. i don't think he has any sort of dislike towards danheng. towards danfeng, though? maybe.

to me, it is easy to say that moze sucks at socialization. but i think it's the opposite. he is acutely aware of how everyone perceives him + the world around them. he is an observer, a watcher. he has to be for his job.

rather than being cold, heartless, he was the only one making sense. he just watched that wolf literally kill their guide. and he had to leave his friend. someone he actually calls his friend, which knowing his type of character, i don't think he has many of those. it'd be stupid to throw one's life away in a futile attempt to save one life , effectively killing them all in the process. in moze's head, this isn't a fairytale with a happy ending. because war is never a happy ending.

i think moze cares a lot more than he lets on. he is not happy about the situation with his friend, and naturally, he doesn't want the astral express, hanya, him or anyone else in the prison to die. but if they have to sacrifice themselves to save the masses, aka all those innocent people on the ship .. then to him, it is worth it.

moze has spent his entire existence searching for a purpose, something that is worth dying for. saving the lives of innocents is something that he deems worthy of his death.

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM THE MANDALORIAN *  assorted dialogue from season 1, episodes 7 and 8

that was a joke.

i think we should go.

this will make you complete.

at least out there, we've got a shot.

i would prefer to avoid any further violence, and encourage a moment of consideration.

i'm out of ideas.

care to double the bet?

i will very much make it worth your while.

hey, stop the boat!

did you know about this?

no no! stop! we're friends!

it seems like a straightforward operation.

this is the lava river.

it means more to me than you will ever know.

i have one more gift for your journey.

the minute we open the door, we're dead.

i'm not gonna make it.

i don't know. i've been advised to lay low.

they must know we're coming.

hey, i'm talking to you! i said stop!

yet somehow you walk free.

you know how it is.

i guess we can call it even.

should we offer that thing some water?

are we gonna keep talking or are we gonna get out of here?

i'm afraid i have more pressing matters at hand.

show me the one whose safety deemed such destruction.

you wish me to train this thing?

i'm shooting my way out of here.

you may wanna check again.

we're still moving.

i've seen otherwise.

i'm already free of worry, and i'm not in the mood to play soldier anymore.

we should at least discuss an escape plan.

i haven't heard that name spoken since i was a child.

if you're asking if you can trust me, you cannot.

i would gladly break any promise and watch you die at my hand.

i will act in my own self-interest.

this is unacceptable.

you may think you have some idea what you are in possession of. but you do not.

let's go over the plan again.

do you trust me?

you just wanna look at it.

i'm not hungry.

looks old. will it take the heat?

there is nothing to be sad about.

that's not good enough.

i can no longer carry this for you.

listen, you're not going anywhere.

we're getting close. saddle up.

did you do this? did you?

i can hold them back long enough for you to escape.

i will have no choice but to kill you.

we can make it.

at least cover your tattoo. no need to flaunt it.

get me close to him and i'll kill him.

would anyone care for some tea?

really? that could be a problem.

looks like we fight.

that's a go to proceed, but i advise you to double check.

it is meant to put you at ease.

thank you. i will wear this with honor.

i need to remove your helmet if i am to save you.

we need you.

if we can get down there, they can help us escape.

some of my favorite people are bounty hunters.

i'm not... sad.

i don't have a choice.

that's a good idea.

i don't care to find out.

what is that thing, anyway?

it was left behind in the wake of your destruction.

well, then what do you suggest? 'cause i can't surrender.

did any survive?

you got a better idea?

we need you.

i'm coming with you.

the plan was to kill you.

you have no choice.

who is this guy?

it is a shame that your people suffered so.

it looks helpless.

i get that point. do you get the point?

what did you do?

let's get the hell out of here.

you might be surprised to hear this, but i am alive too.

i will eliminate any enemy and you will escape.

what do you propose?

any update yet?

watch your feet.

i see nothing but death and chaos.

i've run into some problems.

you have something i want.

that's easy for you to say.

come with us.

i'm not gonna make it and you know it.

this is our only path out. can you clear it?

i won't leave you.

you don't have that kind of firepower.

i will not abandon this place until i have salvaged what remains.

you're staying here?

is there another way out?

he's trying to eat me.

[justsomestoicguy]

What Happened?

"Are you asking me to go behind Stain's back, Ran-kun?"

OH MY GOD, WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS WOMAN?!

The way Onibi-sensei says it—amused grin, playful lilt—means she's toying with me. My heart's already pounding, and her smile is only making it worse.

But I'm not gonna just roll over. No way.

I clench my fists, forcing a cocky smirk. "Why would you let that info slip if you weren't expecting my question in the first place?" 

She laughs. "Touché."

I keep my gaze on her, trying to figure out where this is going, but she stuns me when her expression shifts to something more… serious? Nah, not serious. Thoughtful. 

She taps her chin, staring off into space. 

"You know, Ran-kun," she begins, voice casual again, "the Founders are currently scattered all over. Some are retired, some are focused on their other lives, and the rest are just... loners."

…

Bro.

Seriously?

I've been stressing about meeting these people, and now I'm told I might not even get to meet at least one?

"But luckily for you," Onibi-sensei continues, "I personally know one of the Founders. Being that Founder's pupil and all."

Hold up.

WHAT.

My brain hits the brakes so hard I almost get whiplash. 

So Onibi-sensei's also kind of a big deal??

That… that explains a lot, actually. 

Why she talks to Stain like an equal, why she never calls him 'boss' or anything of the like—it's 'cause they were both protégés of their respective kingpins.

But who cares about that, Onibi-sensei can take me to a Founder!

"So," I start, words coming out more desperate than I'd like, "will you, uh, introduce me to your mentor?"

Onibi-sensei smirks, crossing her arms. "I could. But you'd owe me one, Ran-kun."

Sh*t.

I don't like this. Not one bit. 

But what choice do I have? If she's my only shot at meeting a Founder—at getting answers—then I just have to suck it up.

So I swallow hard, and nod. "Fine."

The corners of her mouth curve up even more. "Good."

Before I can regret my life choices any further, she whips out her phone and dials someone up (probably Jax). 

And the moment the call ends, Jax pops in—literally. 

"Yo." he greets, giving a small salute.

Jax walks over to us in that easy laid-back way of his. "What you need me for, Onibi?"

"Jax-kun," Onibi-sensei addresses, still all smiles. 

"Can you bring us to Mors-san's place?" 

Jax immediately freezes. Uh oh.

His eyes widen and he tumbles back, sputtering, "What? Why the hell would you wanna go there?!"

Great. Now I'm terrified.

Onibi-sensei just laughs and gestures to me. "Ran-kun here wants to meet her."

Her. 

So it's a woman. Wow. Another terrifying woman in my life. Just what I needed.

Jax looks between me and Onibi-sensei like we've lost our minds. "Nah, y'all crazy." He runs a hand through his hair, muttering under his breath. 

"Alright, fine," he relents. "But I'm only takin' you to the front. No way I'm going inside."

"That's good enough for me," Onibi-sensei says, snickering as she holds me in a tight hug. I stiffen because HELLO?? She's petrifying! And now she's too close for comfort.

Jax sighs and extends his hand. Onibi-sensei returns the gesture, and with the clap of their hands, the world shifts. Next thing I know, we're already someplace else.

My stomach lurches, and I barely manage to stay upright. Doesn't matter how many times I do it, I'm never gonna get used to this teleportation crap.

I look up and see a beautiful, expensive-looking housing complex around me. The big house in front of us is particularly fancy, with a Japanese vibe that screams 'do not mess with me'.

"Ran-kun," Onibi-sensei calls out as she lets go of me.

I glance at her, trying not to let the dread show.

"Ready for round two?" she grins. 

…

"WHA-" I slap my mouth shut before I can scream my head out. "What?!" I settle for a whisper-shout, trying not to alert anyone inside.

Onibi-sensei cocks her head, still smiling. "Mors-san won't listen to anyone she doesn't deem worthy. So we need to prove that we're worth her time."

She pats my shoulder. "Don't worry, though," she assures. "It's me and you versus her, this time."

My brain can't even process the madness this time. 

We're supposed to fight her? Onibi-sensei's mentor? A freaking big league? 

But…

Then again… 

The thought of testing myself against someone that powerful, someone even Onibi-sensei respects… 

It's maddeningly tempting.

"...What's her quirk?" I reluctantly ask, half-expecting Onibi-sensei to actually give me a straight answer.

But her grin just turns downright wicked. "Not telling. This is still a training lesson, after all."

Of course, it is. 

I exhale loudly.

"Fine."

Onibi-sensei snickers at my defeated tone. She leans in close and whispers, "Ah, one more thing—avoid touching her directly, Ran-kun." 

"Wha-huh?" I stammered. That's so f*cking vague! "What do you mean? What'll happen?"

"No time to explain," she shrugs. "Follow me. And try not to die."

TRY NOT TO DIE?! 

Before I can argue, her shadow crawls up to her and covers her whole, turning her entire form black like her jet-black hair. She then makes her way over the wall.

God damn it, I can't believe I'm doing this.

I reluctantly follow her lead and phase into the wall, praying to every god I can think of that I make it out of this alive.

When I swim around to the other side, I see a woman, probably in her late thirties or early forties (judging by her greying blonde hair). 

Is that Mors?

She's just there, watering her garden like she doesn't have a care in the world. Her back is to us, and she seems almost serene. 

And yet, there's something about her that makes my skin crawl. I can't put my finger on it; I just know that she's dangerous.

I peer over to Onibi-sensei, who's still shadow-clad, and notice something strange.

Why isn't she spreading her shadow all over the ground like she usually does? That's her thing—her way of reading the entire battlefield. 

It's why I'm unable to fight her using my quirk. I can't phase into that sentient shadow of hers—oh. 

Oh, no. 

It's a sign.

A big, fat, terrifying sign.

She's leaving the ground clear for me to slip in. So I can actually help in this madness.

Great. Just great.

Fine. If that's what she wants, then I'll do it, damn it. 

I start phasing into the ground, hoping to stay hidden until the right moment. 

I can't hear what's going on while I'm down here, so I keep popping my head out every so often since I'm a paranoid gopher, trying to keep up with whatever the hell is happening up there.

Onibi-sensei makes the first move.

She rushes forward, aiming to knock the watering can out of Mors's hand. 

But before I can even blink, Mors casually deflects the attack, barely glancing at Onibi-sensei.

"You've gotten sloppy, Mishka," Mors notes, her faint Russian accent slipping through (which only proves to scare me further).

Onibi-sensei, unfazed by the comment, chuckles. "Just a warm-up, Mors-san. I'd hate to overwhelm you right from the start." She grabs a garden spade and swings it wide, aiming for Mors's side.

But Mors merely lifts a rake, parrying the blow with almost zero effort. "Overwhelm me?" she scoffs mirthfully. "You should focus more on your footwork instead, Mishka."

Banter. Of course, they're bantering while I'm over here, slack-jawed. 

Onibi-sensei persistently tries to drive Mors toward a nearby tool shed, but it's like moving a mountain with a toothpick. 

It's... unusual. 

Every time Onibi-sensei goes in for a big move, she ends up getting pushed back to where she started.

Meanwhile, Mors has barely moved an inch. It's as if she's absorbing all the energy thrown at her and reflecting it back.

So maybe… maybe there's something else at play. Her quirk, for instance.

Onibi-sensei darts in again, feinting a left before swinging wide with the spade.

Mors deflects effortlessly, her rake catching the spade's edge with a sharp clang.

"You know, Mishka," she says, her voice almost curious, "there's no need to hide behind that shadow anymore. It won't catch me off guard."

Onibi-sensei just laughs, circling her like a predator. "Maybe, but it still makes it harder for you to see my movements." She lunges, aiming low.

Mors steps back, sidestepping with practiced ease, her eyes narrowing. "And here I thought you were past these tricks. What's this, a throwback?"

"Nah, just trying something new," Onibi-sensei shoots back, twisting mid-air and bringing the spade down like a hammer.

There it is! A chance!

Okay, Ran, you got this. Just grab her clothes, hold her down, and let Onibi-sensei do the rest. 

As Mors parries the strike, I quickly stretch my hand out of the earth, reaching out to grab hold of her apron.

My fingers tremble because WHAT AM I EVEN DOING RIGHT NOW—and I almost manage to snag the fabric.

Almost.

Mors's eyes flick to me, and before I can react, she whips the rake toward me like she knew I was there all along. F*CK!

I freak out and immediately retract my hand back into the ground, right before her rake pierces the dirt and causes a crack in my phased space; a glitch that sends a jolt through my entire body.

Damn it!

I surface again, desperate and shaking, but I'm not giving up. 

My hand now clutches a small piece of Mors's apron—a tiny, torn scrap of fabric. It's not much, but it's something.

I prepare to throw myself at her, but before I can, Mors raises a palm, her sharp gaze landing on the scrap in my hand. And I don't know if I'm tripping or not when I see the corners of her mouth twitch up a little.

It disappears just as fast as it appeared, though, and she turns her attention back to Onibi-sensei. 

"You held back, Mishka," she remarks. "For your guest, I assume? Someone whose quirk won't work if it touches your shadow, perhaps?" 

HOW CAN SHE TELL JUST LIKE THAT?!

Onibi-sensei simply shrugs, unbothered in the slightest. "There's no deeper meaning to it. I'm just trying to hone my senses," she replies playfully, her shadow slinking down her body and onto her soles. 

That's definitely not true, but I think she's also serious when she says that.

Mors's eyes flick to me again, and I feel like I'm going to explode. Don't kill me, don't kill me, don't kill me—

"Not bad, Malchik," she expresses, almost approvingly. "You've got guts."

I blink, completely thrown off guard. 

Not bad? 

NOT BAD??

I ALMOST DIED!

I look to Onibi for some kind of backup, but she's just standing there with a big stupid grin on her face.

"Well, Mors-san?" Onibi says, leaning on the spade. "Will you hear us out?"

Mors sighs, but it's not an annoyed sigh. More like a 'fine, I'll indulge you' kind of sigh. "Very well," she nods, glancing between us. "Let's talk."

And just like that, it's over. 

She turns to lead us inside, and I let out a breath I didn't even realize I was holding.

What the hell just happened?

—

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

Chapter 1

[guhamun]

@caemthe said (inbox):

[ jiyan ] The general blinked, not quite surprised by the question, but he couldn’t say he had been expecting it either. What he likes about Calcharo? Well, he didn’t have at hand a list of the many aspects of the man that he admired, but he could easily drag this brief exchange into a minutes-long speech. He, of course, wouldn’t bore the mercenaries with unnecessary details, but it wouldn’t be right to be vague when they all looked so interested in the topic. “Calcharo is a great leader of many qualities. His bravery, strength, intelligence and leadership skills shine with the success and fame of the Ghost Hounds. On top of that, he’s a man of his word. His level of accountability and reliability are something only a few men can proudly say to have.” He was interrupted by another question that was slightly more confusing than the first, but he still answered with sincerity, never mind that the person he was asked about was within earshot. “Of course, he’s an incredibly handsome man. He has striking features, the body of a warrior, and eyes that would make anyone’s heart skip a beat. His voice as well, it stays in your mind long after the conversation ends. And I find the bridge of his nose very attractive too.”

HIS HOUNDS WERE QUITE rowdy today – not that they weren’t like this on a regular basis, but they seemed more so today. Calcharo supposed it was because Jiyan had come to visit, and considering his approachable personality, it made it easy to talk to him in a way that many of them certainly were not used to when it came to figures like him. He hadn’t really been paying much attention to what was discussed, at least initially. His focus had been on cleaning his blade when his name was brought up. Frowning, he glanced up, temporarily pausing his hand as he found himself listening. Why in the world were his people bringing him up in a conversation with Jiyan? Nosy. Honestly, sometimes they acted like a bunch of unruly children. For a moment, he pondered speaking up to tell them to leave the General alone, and go find something to do that didn’t involve eating up the other’s time with their nonsense, but the words that were spoken took him aback. He shouldn’t be so surprised by the genuine praise that left Jiyan’s lips when that man probably had a good word to say about literally anyone, yet even so…

     Furrowing his brows a little, he set back to continuing what he had before that interruption, opting to ignore whatever little discussion was going on. His blade had a lot of use today and so he – That thought dissipated so quickly that he almost forgot what he was thinking about when he was suddenly brought up again. However, this particular question was even worse than the one that had been asked before. At least with that he could, to an extent, see why his Hounds would be curious about what the General thought of their leader. This, though, was…

     It was a rare thing to make him feel embarrassed. Not much got under his skin with most of the things that people would deem ‘embarrassing’ hardly being worth his time or effort to care about. In a situation like this…surely anyone would have felt what he did in that very moment. How could Jiyan just go on and on like this with a straight face? His brows furrowed more, lips pressing into a thin line as he felt heat spread across the back of his neck. W-Why was he being so descriptive too? He could have just said that he found him to be handsome and left it at that. He wouldn't have been the first to state this. Pushing himself up, he sheathed his blade, promptly making to leave the area and find somewhere quieter to clean his weapon and deal with…this…unwanted and unfamiliar feeling of wanting to hide his own face behind a hand.

[thawthebeez]

saw a tiktok of someone assembling "proof" that kageyama doesn't hate hinata, and i'm gonna say this so kindly, but if by episode 4 of season 1 it isn't blatantly obvious that kageyama does not, in fact, hate hinata, then i'm gonna need you to go back and try again.

yes, kageyama calls hinata a dumbass and insults him and fights with him n shit, but he also boasts about/praises hinata's ability every chance he gets, albeit in his own Kageyama Way (ex. s4 ep13, atsumu and kags talking while karasuno is getting warmed up/changed, saying to atsumu "yeah, hinata sucks, but i don't, and he's really not all that bad either, so i think we'll be alright.") a better example would obviously be when kageyama is outright complimenting hinata's speed and jumping ability in s1 episodes 1, 3, and 4, and there's also ofc the "what have you been doing the last three years?" which i'm counting as a compliment as well.

not to mention the fact that kageyama is only physically aggressive with hinata. kageyama dislikes tsukishima (although 'dislike' is a strong word because i don't feel like kageyama really truly Dislikes anyone. he's not the type to hold a grudge. he's still chill with kindaichi and kunimi. he even still holds respect for oikawa after almost being backhanded by him), but he doesn't ever try to hit or kick him or anything. yeah, kageyama will insult him sometimes, but it's never anything more than that. the only one kageyama fights with is hinata.

and i guess the insane way to phrase this would be "Hinata's the only one Kageyama deems worth fighting with," but the more normal way would be that he can be himself with hinata. he trusts him enough to let his guard down. kageyama is respectful to others (ex. literally anyone other than tsukishima and hinata, but it can almost even be said that kageyama has at least a little bit of respect for tsukishima via asking him for help when it comes to studying), and hinata's really the only one he can completely relax around. he can let himself be vulnerable around hinata, hence why he's the only one he fights with.

i feel like it's easy to forget that kageyama (in the anime) is a 15 year old boy. he's going to fight with his friends. if hinata's being an idiot, kageyama's going to smack him upside the head. that's just what he's going to do. there's no deeper meaning to it.

i'd almost go as far as to say that it's a way of showing affection. it's a way of showing hinata that he cares enough to swing back at him. but i also might just be utterly insane, who knows.

those two match each other's freak in a way that makes me feel so physically ill and i hate them forever <3

[verona2314]

Judgment of the Damned (translation) PART XIII

Link part XII

Summary:

In the realm of Limbo, where souls deemed too good for Hell but not virtuous enough for Heaven reside, Victoria finds herself thrust into an unprecedented mission. When a notorious sinner, Sir Pentious, achieves redemption and ascends to Heaven, it sends shockwaves through all realms. Tasked with unraveling this mystery, Victoria, a minor judge of souls, is sent to the infamous Hazbin Hotel in Hell. For the first time, an emissary from Limbo steps foot into the fiery depths, tasked with observing and judging the denizens of Hell for their potential for redemption. As Victoria navigates this unfamiliar territory, she captures the unrequired attention of the enigmatic Radio Demon, Alastor. Amidst the chaos of demonic antics and the pursuit of understanding redemption, Victoria must confront her own beliefs and judgments. As she delves deeper into the secrets of the Hazbin Hotel, Victoria uncovers hidden truths about sinners, redemption, and the ultimate fate of souls caught between damnation and salvation. With each soul she encounters, Victoria's journey becomes not only a quest for answers but a personal voyage of self-discovery in the heart of darkness.

Chapter 13: Paradoxes

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Husk

He had barely reached the halfway point of the bottle when his mind began to entertain the idea of opening a second one. This wasn't new to him, but the feeling of self-loathing kept creeping in, albeit increasingly faint as the alcohol seeped into his system. It was another evening at the hotel, another day in the new and gleaming bar stocked with exquisite liquors, yet devoid of guests to consume them. Lucky for him, most of those drinks wouldn't go to waste.

He constantly wondered where it had all started to go wrong for him. Blaming Alastor as the sole cause of his torturous existence would be simplistic, though he couldn't deny it was tempting. On the other hand, he couldn't complain about his upbringing. He had grown up in an environment filled with lights and fast-paced gambling that allowed him to learn various skills and make his way through life with innate talent. Unfortunately, when everything comes easy, you become addicted to winning without much effort, and a low tolerance for frustration becomes your enemy. It's no wonder he developed an obsession with not failing, as failure in his younger years seemed unbearable to him. Because of that, he meticulously prepared everything with care and anticipation, always seeking perfection. What would his younger self think if he saw him now?

He continued drinking from the bottle until it was empty. It wasn't worth thinking about those things, about anything. He was already damned to hell and to be the radio demon's pet. Worrying about his existence was useless and meaningless as he couldn't do anything to change his situation. At least he had found some comfort in the company of the hotel staff, which alleviated his perpetually wounded pride a little. He had even found an unexpected friendship in Angel, who could understand the feeling of self-loathing quite well.

He was about to open the other bottle when his attention was drawn to the entrance of the bar. Charlie and Vaggie were walking towards him, talking loudly.

"I know what I saw, Vaggie," the princess of hell claimed.

"And I believe you. But maybe you misinterpreted it," the former exterminator replied.

"There was no room for misinterpretation. Uh! Whatever. Let's ask Husk right now," Charlie grumbled, crossing her arms.

"Shit," was all Husk could think before he had the princess of hell sitting in front of him, leaning her elbows on the bar. He wasn't in the mood for Charlie's positivity. She was adorable, but Husk found it hard not to feel exhausted by the blonde's endless energy. He appreciated her efforts, but he simply longed to quietly drink his drink and continue tormenting himself over his past decisions. He sighed. It was already too late to sneak away or escape. "Do you want a drink?" he asked, assuming his role as bartender only to please Charlie.

"In fact, Husk, we would like to have your opinion on a matter," Vaggie replied in a low voice. That was unusual.

"Is it necessary? I was busy," the bartender responded in a neutral tone before bringing the bottle of liquor to his lips.

"Yeah, I see," Vaggie replied, raising an eyebrow. "The thing is. Charlie believes she saw... uh... well, you know Alastor better than we do... we would like to know if... Do you think he?"

"What the hell...? No no no," Husk could barely understand the former exterminator's stammering, but hearing the name of the radio demon was enough to not want to know more. "Hey, wait. I don't want to hear anything related to that lunatic. If it's about Alastor, the answer is simple. No."

"But you haven't even heard what I was going to say," Vaggie retorted.

"I don't want to know. Besides, I can't understand anything if you babble like that," Husk shrugged, ready to take another drink.

"The thing is," Charlie continued this time, "I thought I saw Alastor doing something... unexpected, and Vaggie doesn't believe me."

Husk rolled his eyes for a moment. It seemed they weren't going to leave him alone until he gave a more satisfactory answer. "There's nothing that lunatic can do that would surprise me," he replied, waving a hand dismissively. Perhaps now he could enjoy his drink in peace.

"Really?" Charlie asked confidently. "Even getting intimate with the judge?"

"Intimate?" the bartender questioned the princess of hell incredulously.

"Charlie walked into the judge's room and says she caught her and Alastor in a compromising position," Vaggie blurted out, trying to use soft words.

Husk dropped his drink and closed his eyes in disgust. That image was definitely NOT something he wanted to have in his head. He shook his head to clear the disgust, and after a few moments of silence, he began to laugh. "Alastor sleeping with the judge? That's ridiculous!" he exclaimed between laughs. "It's the most delusional, morbid, unpleasant, and comical thing I've ever heard."

Husk couldn't stop laughing, not even when Charlie's face turned red with embarrassment, not even under Vaggie's reproachful gaze.

"I think it would be interesting," Angel chimed in.

"When did you arrive, Angel?" the former exterminator interrogated.

"Just when Big Guy was talking about Alastor and the judge," the porn actor replied. "It's a great business opportunity. What if we make a video of them? You know, like a reality show or something. We could call it..."

"Angel, that's a terrible idea," Vaggie interrupted, shaking her head. "We're not going to exploit people's private lives."

"Aww, come on, Vaggie," Angel continued, pouting. "It would be hilarious! And think of all the views we'd get. That would definitely attract guests."

"There's nothing private between them. Forget it," the bartender interrupted, a bit more composed. "It's simply impossible. Alastor is a selfish person who isn't interested in anyone but himself. He's a vain egomaniac obsessed with power, chaos, and constantly seeking adulation," he sighed, turning his gaze to Charlie. "If he ever showed you kindness, princess, it's because he wants something from your position. He's not your friend or anyone else's. Have you ever seen him show genuine affection for anyone or care for another being? And without asking for anything in return? At least I haven't... and unfortunately, I've known his steps for several years."

"Come on, Husk," the princess replied in a friendly tone. "Maybe there's more to Alastor than you think."

"Believe me, Charlie, you haven't seen anything he's capable of," he finally warned, taking the sip of liquor he had longed for. "Don't let your innocence cloud your judgment."

His rough voice resonated in the glasses hanging over the bar. Angel played with Husk's bottle cap while suppressing a smile. Vaggie seemed to agree with him, but not with his way of saying it. Maybe he had been a bit cynical with the princess.

"Well, Whiskers, there goes our business idea," Angel added. "Anyway, it would be something very hot. Who would be dominant there?"

"Angel, stop it," Vaggie growled, rubbing her temple with one hand.

"Whatever you saw, Charlie, there must be an explanation," Husk continued in a friendlier tone, ignoring Angel's typical comments and Vaggie's irritation. "Besides, do you really think someone like the judge could be interested in Alastor? Not in a million years!" he finished, laughing again.

His moment of amusement was abruptly interrupted when he heard a familiar laugh. At the entrance of the bar, standing tall, was the radio demon laughing thunderously. Husk gritted his teeth as a shiver ran down his spine. The bartender could assure that the red demon had heard his last comment.

"What's so funny, my esteemed companions?" the radio host asked theatrically. "It seems you're having a vivid conversation about me."

"Alastor!" exclaimed Charlie.

"Ah, smiles. We were just talking about how ridiculous it is to think you and the judge have a romance," Angel said nonchalantly.

Alastor tilted his head to the side and walked towards them with his arms behind his back, staring Husker directly in the eyes. Everyone seemed uncomfortable except for Angel.

"Is that so? Surely the origin of all this is what our dear Charlie believes she saw when she interrupted my conversation with the judge," Alastor continued as he inspected the nails of one hand. "I'm flattered that you find my personal affairs so interesting."

"That's not it, Alastor," the former exterminator replied, clearing her throat for a moment. "We just wanted to clarify the misunderstanding."

"Well... I... apologize for the intrusion earlier, Alastor. But you two... there's nothing wrong with that. It just surprised me a lot especially because of what Rosie said that time and well, the judge..." Charlie nervously said as her cheeks turned crimson. Suddenly, the princess's attention shifted to another detail. "Where's your coat, Alastor?"

"Oh! I handed it to Niffty to wash. Well, I don't blame you, Charlotte. Anyone who doesn't know me could have jumped to the same conclusion. But it was just a simple case of a misplaced step and an unfortunate fall. The judge, in her haste to evade the... heated discussion, stumbled. And I, in my gentlemanly duty, caught her before she could hit the floor. That's it.  After all, I'm not capable of genuine affection, isn't that right, Husker?"

“Shit”. Alastor had definitely heard his comments, and now the radio demon's ego demanded retribution. He should have followed his first instinct and kept his mouth shut. He was in trouble. His mind raced as the red demon narrowed his eyes, waiting for his response. Husk felt his throat tighten at the mere thought of the noose around his neck.

"Of course it's ridiculous!" Angel chimed in, winking at Husk. "The judge is a very proper person, empathetic, compassionate, with a sense of morality that she defends so fiercely it becomes annoying. She's the complete opposite of you, smiles. But if you're feeling lonely, I can keep you company a bit," Angel finished, using a more intimate tone of voice.

At this, the radio demon simply smiled as always, not reacting to Angel's words. "Well, this was fun," exclaimed Alastor again with a dramatic voice. "I've always enjoyed hearing the stories that these little minds invent about me. It's free entertainment!"

At that moment, Adrian entered the bar, breathing heavily. Husk felt relieved that the attention was directed towards someone else. Angel looked at Husk with a knowing smile. At that moment, the bartender understood. The actor had decided to emphasize the differences between Alastor and the judge just to make the radio demon direct his annoyance towards Angel. Husk couldn't help but smile. He owed the spider a favor.

"Adrian? Where the hell were you? Niffty said you let Zestial in without informing anyone," Vaggie scolded the boy.

"Vaggie," the boy replied, trying to catch his breath, "I'll explain later, but the TV. It's talking about the hotel and the judge."

"Who? Katie, the blonde reporter? That insufferable bitch," Angel inquired.

"No. A guy with a television head," Adrian replied worriedly, trying to catch his breath. "He's saying the judge is a threat, an emissary for the next extermination, and that Charlie is her accomplice. He says they're creating technology to eliminate Victoria."

"Vox? How does he know Victoria is here?" Vaggie responded.

"It must be a misunderstanding. I'm sure if I talk to him, we can come to an agreement," Charlie proposed.

"Are you kidding, Charlie?" exclaimed Angel.

Husk watched as the group debated about the news while Alastor observed, smiling, showing no signs of interest. The bartender supposed that the Overlord was waiting for the right moment to intervene and be the center of attention while enjoying the chaos and worry that invaded the others. Without further ado, he took another sip from his bottle. This definitely wasn't his problem.

Sera

From the heights of her office, the leader of the seraphim watched Emily chatting with Sir Pentious in the central courtyard, seated on a stone bench surrounded by beautiful flowers and bushes. A slight Sera´s face formed at the adorable scene. It was difficult for her to admit that the former sinner had shown to have a sweet and quite agreeable character. Emily hadn't taken long to become friends with the individual, teaching him all the rules of heaven while Pentious recounted his experiences in Lucifer's realm.

The arrival of the sinner to these domains had been treated with total secrecy and care to avoid chaos in heaven. Thanks to Adam's indiscretion, the entire council knew about the extermination. Sera had thought that her celestial peers would try to veto the genocide of sinful souls, but there was only silence. This tacit acceptance of extermination could change if the redemption of Sir Pentious became known.

On the other hand, no one could yet explain how this miracle had occurred, which generated immense uncertainty and fear. She also knew that Sir Pentious would likely face much rejection and segregation in heaven. Sera didn't want the sinner to go through that because, despite her initial doubts, he had truly proven to be harmless. She didn't know if the innocence of the former sinner was due to his own nature or to a lack of intellect, but clearly he was not a wicked and deviant being.

"I see you're quite comfortable in your office, little Sera. Is it wise to smile so much when a human soul threatens to destroy all the order we've created?" reproached a deep, velvety voice in a severe tone.

"Zerachiel," murmured Sera, turning towards the archangel. "What are you doing here?"

"Michael sent me after reading the report you sent him about the redeemed soul. Oh, little Sera, why didn't you come directly to me? You know our dear brother isn't feeling up to intervening in... any matter," Zerachiel responded.

"He is the chief protector of heaven. It seemed appropriate to inform him," the leader of the Seraphim responded defensively. Zerachiel smiled cynically.

"Is that so? Or is it that you still don't trust me? Come on, little Sera, it was a long time ago. Let it go," Zerachiel shrugged.

"It's been a long time since I was a little and helpless Seraphim. And the death of all those beings is not something I can erase from my memory, Zerachiel," she replied, keeping her voice calm, clenching her fists.

"It was what had to be done. Besides, it wasn't very different from what you do with the extermination. Thanks to me, that project fell into your hands. I left you all the credit. You should be more grateful. Anyway, I didn't come here to argue about useless nonsense," said the archangel, sitting on Sera's desk. "Michael wants me to help you with the redeemed one."

"And what about God's moon will?" Sera questioned. She didn't really like the idea of ​​the whole affair being under Zerachiel's supervision. He was a meticulous, intelligent archangel, but he didn't have many scruples when it came to making decisions. Protecting heaven was the end that justified any means. On the other hand, he didn't particularly like human souls because he had seen several humans ruin their own children by making them replicate their sins, despite the archangel efforts to prevent it. Her mentor had long since grown tired of seeing over and over again how those who were supposed to protect their offspring left them to their own devices. He couldn't understand it, and that indignation turned into contempt.

"Satariel? I'm not going to bother him with this. You see, Sera, I'm not really interested in the matter of the redeemed soul. Handle it as you wish. What bothers me is that Limbo has interfered, and that's your fault. You were summoned and yet you couldn't prevent them from sending an emissary to hell. If this judge believes that mass redemption of souls is possible, Limbo will surely try to create a standard redemption system, which will increase the number of redeemed souls. This domain would become infested with those dirty sinful souls. You understand that I cannot allow that to happen, so I will take charge of that matter, and you will have to help me."

"What do you plan to do?" asked Sera, her eyes widening with a hint of fear.

"The usual. Clean up your mess."

Alastor

After enjoying for a few moments the distress that Vox's little performance had caused in the group, the radio demon decided to intervene.

"What wonderful news!" he exclaimed, causing confusion among the others. "Don't you know that any publicity is good? This is your chance, dear Charlie, to turn the tables and attract guests."

"The judge's presence is supposed to remain a secret," the princess retorted.

"Oh well, that's no longer possible thanks to the little show her honor presented a few days ago," he replied, waving his hand in a nonchalant gesture. "You must take advantage of what you have. And lucky for you, I have the perfect solution."

"What do you have in mind, Alastor?" the ex-exterminator interrogated him with a severe tone, narrowing her eyes in distrust.

"Oh, my dear. Trying to explain the complexities of my mind to you would be futile. But for this particular matter, I'll make an exception. Interestingly, our dear judge had already agreed to appear on my show. I just have to advance the interview. I doubt her honor will mind."

"And how will that solve our problem?" Vaggie said, crossing her arms.

Alastor sighed dramatically, shaking his head with exaggerated resignation. "Well, at least I tried. Clearly, you lack vision. But I'm sure Charlie trusts me. Isn't that right?"

The princess of hell observed him for a moment. Alastor could feel impatience churning in his stomach. When Charlie nodded, he couldn't help but smile even more. All the pieces of the game were falling perfectly into place.

"Splendid! It's settled then," he concluded before leaving the bar to head to his radio station and draft a script guide for Victoria. This broadcast had to be perfect.

"Alastor," a voice called out urgently. The radio host halted his steps. Niffty walked up to stand in front of him. "I have your coat," the little lady informed him, extending her arms to hand over the garment.

"Ah! How efficient, my dear. Did you manage to get rid of the scent?" he replied, taking his coat.

"I used my entire arsenal," Niffty said proudly, laughing eerily. "It was fun. I'll go fetch more clothes!" she exclaimed as she ran off down the hallway.

Alastor questioned whether it was worth understanding Niffty's fascination with laundry, but immediately dismissed the idea. His eyes drifted to his coat. His mind once again wandered to the memory of the encounter he had with the judge and its unexpected outcome. He recalled the confusion he felt after saying goodbye to Victoria and how a sweet aroma hit his senses. Lavender. Her scent had permeated his coat like an annoying reminder of their tangled incident. A fragrance so contrasting with his own. At that moment, he shed the coat as if it were poisoned and immediately asked Niffty to remove any scent without further explanation. It was the second time that week he subjected his garment to a wash.

The radio host shook his head, yet thoughts persisted. Leaning against the hallway wall, he held his coat with one hand. He chuckled to himself, the sound devoid of any true humor as he ran a hand through his hair. The image of the judge, always dignified and composed, trapped under his grip was irreplaceable. To have witnessed that display of ferocity and steadfastness from such close proximity was priceless. Her defiant attitude and resistance to revealing her secrets were strangely exhilarating. After all, what was a bit of chaos without a worthy opponent? His laughter echoed through the halls again, this time with a hint of amusement. "As always, Victoria, a web of mysteries begging to be unraveled," he murmured to himself. The judge was an enigma whose layers he was gradually peeling back, understanding better the depth of her character hidden beneath that mask of fortitude and propriety.

A mocking smile settled on his face as he remembered how exasperating Victoria's stubbornness was. It frustrated and thrilled him at the same time”damn it,!” he muttered to himself with a tone of indignation. Having witnessed Victoria's strength even in such a disadvantaged situation had caused him an uncomfortable realization: The respect he felt towards her had morphed into something unsettling... something warm. This emotional bond was a nuisance, something absurd, but real. For the radio demon, the physical aspects of their struggle meant nothing, but the meeting of their gazes and the unspoken challenge had caused that warm feeling in his chest that defied his manipulative, selfish, and chaotic nature of which he had been so proud.

He decided to put on his coat. He stretched it to adjust and smooth out any wrinkles before straightening the sleeves and tidying his bow tie, forcing a calm smile to match his playful demeanor. It was prudent to admit to himself that this strange connection with the judge was a crack in his armor that he couldn't allow.

"Focus on your mission, Alastor. The bloodstains, this partnership, that's all that matters," he murmured again. He was determined to earn the judge's trust or at least uncover her secrets. She was a puzzle, and puzzles were his specialty. He, the radio demon, had never lost a game and wasn't about to start now. He needed to get to the bottom of this, not just out of curiosity, but out of an urgency to regain control of the situation and these strange emotions stirring within him. The thrill of the chase, the constant strategies... Alastor craved this game, he thrived in chaos. But this closeness with the judge was a different kind of chaos that he wasn't sure he wanted. This inexplicable spark. He had to keep his distance. Although, perhaps, just perhaps he could enjoy this game a little more.

"Everything about you is a mystery, Victoria," he said in his showman voice, "and mysteries have always had a way of drawing me in. Dear Judge," he continued with a pause, his tone infused with amusement, "you're a charming enigma, a delightful paradox! Concealing secrets beneath that proper and fitting appearance, and a fighting spirit that would make even the fiercest imp blush."

Alastor wasn't going to let this... emotional complication derail him, but he also wasn't going to continue ignoring it. The judge had become a very intriguing piece, and Alastor, like a true showman, couldn't wait to see how this act would unfold. Slowly, his composed smile was replaced by a predatory one.

"My dear Judge," he chuckled, his voice echoing down the hallway, laced with amusement and a hint of something… genuine? "The plot thickens! Don't you just adore a good plot twist, Victoria?

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TAGLIST!!

@slytherin4ever

@empressofashed

Link next chapter

[macgyvertape]

This essay is part a note on how most of John’s PoV is sympathetic because he naturally casts his opponents as Acceptable Targets (meaning a group that is deemed justified to hold in contempt), but the Trillionares and their plan was just as bad as he said. Thematically the point of John’s POV isn’t “John was always a monster”, but John was originally no better or worse than an average person but the power to kill indiscriminately without consequences corrupts, and when death gives you a rush you’re incentivized to kill as a problem solving method.

Much as the memes serve to make John relatable in HtN because it’s a point of familiarity in an unfamiliar setting, when John had his rant of: 

“At that point I wished I’d used the fucking conspiracy theorists instead… nobody would’ve cared if I’d turned people inside-out who think vaccines have nanites in them that mine cryptocurrency”.

Neither Alecto or Harrow know what an anti-vaxxer is much less cryptocurrency but I sure do. After living through 2 years of a pandemic in a Bible Belt state I have a deep and personal hatred of anti-vaxxers so a large part of me was like “yeah fuck ‘em”.  In the same vein Billionaires are inherently immoral, so how much worse does that make Trillionaires, whose plans of fleeing to space are an intentional parallel to certain real life figures? I found it easy to dislike the people John hated, and thereby John felt more likable even though his actions in HtN were fresh in my mind.

I don’t think John was lying about how bad the corporations and Trillionaires were, and I’ve seen some posts that miss the details of why they are so hateable. They’re introduced wielding structural power in the epitome of healthcare industry putting profit over people’s lives. 

8% chance of death or long term damage isn’t great, but comments saying that the cryo project was right to be shut down over 8% are literally misunderstanding that the Trillionare’s justification is a facade. The Trillionaires were fine with 70% severe damage (implied to be crippling if not fatal) and excluding anyone who was pregnant, because the Trillionaires never planned to take that risk and would staff a ship with only thousands awake vs the billions cryo could hold. It’s interesting the parts of John’s recounting where he’s almost too angry to speak.

I’ve seen posts that more ships could have been built once the first wave left, but that ignores the text about how the planet is being strip-mined of resources just so the Trillionares can take excess with them, literally faking people on the manifest just to have more room. The Trillionares fund the early launch by giving away most of their money, but John’s right that if the Trillionaires are giving away money it's because money no longer has worth, it's a stand in for goods and services that are gone. If there were enough resources that more ships could be built it wouldn’t happen before massive population die off due to environmental catastrophes with the reference to “the next round of climate starvation.” The “us” in those left behind is everyone not rich or deemed useful aka most of the global population. With this kind of stakes it’s understandable why any amount of violence starts to seem justified to John.

When John does start killing people I think it's meant to be a shocking moment not just to the other characters but the reader as well. 

 “I dropped everyone with a gun in a kilometre radius. Stopped the hearts of the army guys, the rent-a-cops, the peacekeepers, the locals. There were over a hundred of them, but I didn’t discriminate”

His response to P- (Pyrrha) confronting him is a quip “talk about police abuse”, and a lie that it was an accident with the chilling follow up to Alecto/Harrow “Guys as careful as me don’t have accidents”. For as much as he respected Pyrrha for being on his side, as soon as she confronts him she’s just another “bad cop” who uses too much force. (I am very aware gun and police culture has different history in NZ vs US, so I am sure there is context I’m missing). John’s framing isn’t ACAB and justice for the 5 people looking to join who were killed but all the things he was figuring out with death power. Pyrrha is a character Nt9 readers are probably very attached to at this point; John’s framing her as just a “bad cop” in this scene is meant to demonstrate he’s begun to stop respecting his comrades or tell them the truth; just as he’s becoming fine with collateral damage.  It's the kind of “if you aren’t with me you’re against me” view John holds that we see play out in HtN with Augustine and Mercymorn. If there’s a divergence point of “what could have changed for the outcome to differ” I think it was this moment or shortly after where John stops treating everyone else as equals.

The tragedy is that Necromancy is pretty useless for directly fixing the environment with “stabilizing glaciers” or “trapping atmosphere”, but it could have done wonders for 8% cryo damage. John went from a mission statement of “no one left behind” and plans to save a livable Earth to caring more about stopping the Trillionaires at whatever cost so he nuked the world then ate the solar system in an attempt to kill all of them. Ten thousand years later he still punishes the descendants of those who escaped in the manner of “the sins of the father” and God!John has become so much like the Trillionaires he hated, there’s some sort of eldritch zombie apocalypse across the Empire and John is doing nothing with all his resources to stop it. 

Tldr: In the words of my friend: “i loved that like, he cared more about winning than saving people. he starts out so sympathetic you're like okay i see how this is escalating and then its suddenly like "well they werent LISTENING so I HAD to destroy the entire planet" amazingggggg”

[aho-dapa]

Thinking some character thoughts just in the difference in the way I think characters would talk + body language (in my fic specifically)

Feyre - definitely to the point but more practical, the type that would get accused of how cold and biting the way she speaks because of how based off reality and experience it is, has a closed off body language like having a power stance nearly all the time or crossing her arms with a scowl, someone you go to when you want to solve a problem (and expect it to get dealt with)

Nesta - also closed off but while Feyre gives off prickly Nesta gives off untouchable, her body language constantly communicates that no one is worth her time unless she deems it so, different from others once she opens up her body language and way of expression changes, more gentle and soft yet still elegant, would pick at every facet of a problem until she thought of an ideal solution

Elain - everything about her body language is loud, even when she’s not moving she gains attention, a naturally loud person that has suppressed that loudness, there is a brightness and openness to her expressions, talks a lot but also listens a lot, adept at having all types of conversations, because of this when she doesn't talk it also brings attention to her, high emotional intelligence and brings that to every relationship and conversation, would try to solve the problem with you than try to give a definite solution, would be by your side constantly as a show of support 

Tamlin - only really speaks unless he’s comfortable and only when necessary, learning how to talk was a skill he learned but not one he enjoys, the type to blurt out something randomly without thought, his actions speak louder, his body language is a bit clunky when flustered (happens often when speaking) but when relaxed his body language is fluid and almost graceful, compared to others he doesn’t have an easy openness but he does conduct himself with a naturalness to him if that makes sense, the one you go to when you want to complain about something but is mostly there to listen and use it as a moment to emotionally connect 

Azriel - rarely speaks but when he does its simple observations that are backed up by conclusive truth, words are meticulously chosen, his still body language and facial expressions reveal close to nothing, to the point but without the harshness of feyre, but his words can cut deeper than feyre’s if he wishes because it’s not just based on the surface level reality of things but also includes the emotional, would rather never speak at all, while everyone else might want to help with your problem in some way Az would simply listen without judgement 

Rhysand - never shuts up, he blathers on incessantly, almost annoying (it can be), cheeky and arrogant but in a self assured way, while not loud he does draw attention to himself with his words with an easy charisma, large movements while talking, very attention grabbing, while he does speak a lot it tends to mask the subtlety of his true intentions, would give a well rounded set of solutions until one stuck before diving more deeply into it

Lucien - also talks a lot but not as much as Rhys, rather he talks because he likes to talk, he likes expressing himself and one the best ways to do that is through talking, can also hide behind sarcastic words but it’s definitely more obvious than Rhys, actually finds it difficult to be duplicitous but was raised in the autumn court so yeah, there is a natural openness to his body language, would probably try to help you solve the problem but eventually give up and move on to other subjects to help you stop worrying (if it wasn’t that important of course)

Eris - similar to Rhys in that talking is a game that is played with careful tone and double meanings, but he doesn’t speak so much, similar to Az words are carefully chosen every time he opens his mouth even with people he’s comfortable with, him and Rhys are similar but there’s definitely more of a coldness to Eris’s than Rhy’s since Rhys also uses his warm charisma to disarm people, actions speak very loud with him which is why he’s even more careful of body language than most, in comparison to Az where stillness might come natural to Eris stillness is a trait that is hard won, would think for a while (like days or weeks) before offering a solution (one that would definitely work)

[made-some-ki-points]

Fantasy Culture Tables: Beauty and Fashion Standards

Meant for your next city, group or counter culture, as a random table or list of ideas

Practicality. Clean and simple clothes, work minded builds and minimal cosmetics. To be honest, most don’t have the time to beautify.

A specific color. Perhaps it’s a dye hard to come across normally, perhaps it’s associated with a figure of power, but if you’re not wearing it, you’re on the outs.

A lack of color. Perhaps it’s because of a reverence for rouges, perhaps a local designer has deemed it flattering, but gaudy or colorfully dressed members of adventuring parties are sure to stand out.

Thick/covering clothing. Perhaps fabric is a sign of status, perhaps weavers are considered culturally important, but at the end of the day showing skin is for those who don’t care about fashion.

Revealing clothing. Though some may think they know the motivations, in reality this is a largely practical matter. Perhaps the local aasimar population needs a bare back for the health of their wings, or the local drow can only absorb the moon through bare skin, so their nightclothes cannot cover much.

Excess. Crazy patterns, jewelry, even face paint is an easy way to show off your creativity, which they treasure here. So go big or go home.

Jewels and metals. Perhaps thanks to proximity to a mine, perhaps reverence for a gem dragon, the marker of a good member of that society is indeed the gems on their body.

Capes. The material, color and length can tell you everything you need to know about someone from this place. Perhaps any party members wearing one will want their own checked out to prevent… false information.

Combat readiness. Armor is high fashion, sharp teeth or claws can draw in any partner you want, and those looking unequipped? Well the locals feel sorry for them indeed.

Religious inspired. Perhaps it’s wearing the holy symbol of a certain figure on any garment you can, perhaps it’s copying a famous depiction of the figure, but everyone knows the ultimate example of beauty has to be divine.

Tattoos. Complex pictures of life events and achievements tell the story of a person and determine if a person is worth talking to. An individual without them will certainly be a fascinating sight to behold.

Bone. In jewelry or on armor, wearing bone here is a way to mark yourself in charge of the monsters around the area, a trophy to wear with you. Maybe this place adores the exposed bone of tiefling horns as well.

Dual-function clothes and accessories: Hidden swords and knives, lock picks and sheaths are the heights of fashion and yet somehow this community trusts each other completely.

Flowers. From patterns to wearing them in one’s hair, connection to flowers is vital here. What they mean is too, so choose accessories cautiously.

Moving clothing and accessories: In a place that reveres artificers, a mechanical movement to your glasses or a skirt whose hoop can part to allow access up stairs is considered a massive status symbol. Especially if somehow, you helped make it personally.

Masks. In a place where identity is precious as secrecy, it is wise to cover your face. Not because you are more beautiful, but because He may know you if you don’t.

Heirlooms. Everything may look old, but any local knows the value of the story it holds. Locals will ask, so what will your party say?

Dead things. Skulls, decayed tree bark and rotted materiel show a maturity here, an acceptance and love of what comes after. Perhaps it’s thanks to a death god’s influence, perhaps something less direct, but the locals will show off clothing many may call creepy with great pride.

Text. Usually written in the lining of a suit coat or in a jewelry piece, it is expected the words a person wears are the ones they live by. But beware of reading any local’s words, especially aloud. You do not know the magic they might hold.

Illusion magic. Here, there’s only one thing no one looks like: Themselves. No one’s face is their own, and it doesn’t seem to bother them, but no one around seems to tell anyone why. Then it occurs to you: Do they even remember?