#i don't know how to end things sorry

[yeyinde]

You want a baby. Simon can't get over his hangups to give you one. The solution to both problems? Johnny.

18+ SMUT. breeding. mildly dubious consent. Johnny feasts on your pussy and then does his best to knock you up while Simon watches. slight body worship. bastardization of religious imagery. Mean!Dom Simon. rough, messy sex.

He's not the type to saw off his own hand to feed you, but would rather find a third man to satiate you both. The only one who can care for you, he said. Can't do that when he's dead, can he?

Maybe that's why he calls for Johnny.

down boy. eager mutt. lil' pyedogs got himself all twisted up in a rutt. help him, won't you, pet?

Johnny's softer than Simon but only just. This margin of distance, however, could be the gaping maw of a canyon for how wide it really is when scaled down to fit. Boxed inside a narrow bed—on your belly, cheek on Simon's knee; ass up, legs spread. Johnny behind you—colluvium to Simon's mountainside, but still so broad, so thick, your hips twinge with the effort of keeping your knees so wide apart.

You feel it whistling through the chasm when he licks his lips behind you—a loud, lascivious smack, a wet suckle—and feel the burn of his stare riveted on the split of your flesh. This bare seam Simon swears he found nirvana tucked deep inside of. A buried ravine. Aquifer he quenches himself on.

A pilgrimage Johnny has been aching to take.

And that's what this is, isn't it? Yatra to the hidden piscina. A procession to pollute the tarn—something Simon can't bring himself to do.

Bad genes. Trauma—sticky, noxious tar that oozes from the rotting filaments; festering deep inside. Cancerous: a mass you long to cleave from bone but know it's not cosmetic. Not just the ball joints, or the studs, but the foundation itself. If you start tearing up pieces now you'll have nothing but an empty plot and a pile of damaged debris.

So:

Enter the third man.

A tool. Vassel. Pays fealty by fucking a baby into your womb.

It's what you wanted, isn't it?

(yes, but—)

It happens faster than you can keep up with. Hands on your hips. Coarse hair tickling the back of your thigh. Warm breath against sticky, wet flesh. A broad nose parting your folds. Inhale. Exhale on a deep, reedy groan.

"fuck, ye smell heavenly, doe."

Simon hums before you can peel your tongue from the roof of your mouth, answering for you with a brassy invitation: tastes even better, Johnny.

It's all the permission he needs before he pushes his head closer to your bare cunt, groaning as his tongue cleaves a silky, thick line between your folds. Gorging himself without much preamble. Hands curled around your hips like expensive silverware, pulling you back into the wanting, eager suck of his mouth.

All at once, it's too much. Your hips shift, squirming away from his tongue, the too-sharp press of his teeth against soft, sensitive flesh. Mewling, whimpering into the rain-wet fabric of Simon's jeans.

His hand falls on your head. A gentle tap. Behave, it says, but you can't.

Johnny tramples over that thin line between pleasure and ecstasy, blurring them both until it becomes pain. Overwhelming. Shoving you towards the edge before you've readied yourself for the fall.

"Can't, Simon, can't—"

The words elide, slurring into a high-pitched whine as Johnny feasts on your cunt. Devours you from the inside out—all teeth and tongue, sucking your clit until your thighs cramp from how tight your muscles tense, bleeding lactic acid over sore flesh. The scrape of his stubble over your folds, chafing them until they are raw. Swollen. Drenched hole fucked with the spear of his tongue, digging so deep you begin to fear that he's trying to crawl inside of you. Salt your womb with his own two hands—

"Can take it, birdie," is all Simon says before his hand slides down your arched, trembling spine. Fingers digging into the meat of your cheek, spreading you wider for Johnny to eat. "Look how eager he is. Can't get enough of that sweet cunt."

"It's—it's too much—"

You don't feel him move. Can't see much from the blurry tears in your eyes. But his other hand whips out, cracking over your untouched cheek in a firm, burning smack. One that makes Johnny moan when it lands. Cruel. Open palm. Hard enough to leave a welt in the shape of his hand—something that makes him groan when he sees it.

"fuckin' hell—" his fingers dig into the aching flesh, grip bruising.

Johnny peels his wet, open mouth away long enough to pant into the slick spread of your cunt, resting his cheek on the swell of your ass. "Bit rough wit' 'er, Lt."

Simon considers it. Body shaking the bed when he shrugs, leaning back to trail his hand back up your spine, curling over the arch of your nape. Keeping you still as you sob into his knee. "She likes it."

"know she does. Fuck, Lt. Can feel 'er little pussy twitching. Tryin' tae suck me in."

Another hum. The grip on your asscheek eases as his hand peels away, sliding over swell before notching a finger between your cleft. Dry. Rough. It drags down your seam until it brushes over your fluttering hole, calloused tip digging in.

"soft, too, ain't it?" He asks, words mockingly cruel in their conversational tone. Nonchalant. But Johnny's hands tighten on your waist, palms slick with sweat. Glueing to your flesh. You can tell he likes that. Likes the way Simon talks about you. Demeaning and brutish. Butcher selling a piece of meat. "Bit of a tight fit at first—" he curls his finger inside of you, stretching your sore walls with the width of his knuckle. Sinking in deep. Another follows before you can remember how to breathe around the sting. "But swallows you up like a goddamn dream, Johnny."

His breaths grow ragged. "Fuck, Lt. Look at th'."

It makes you clench up around Simon's fingers, embarrassment scorching through your chest. "Please—"

Neither of them acknowledge you. Simon's fingers split, spreading wide apart as Johnny shuffles forward for a closer look, and nearly choking on his next inhale when he does.

"such a pretty fuckin' pussy—" he says it like a curse. Spitting the words out on a snarl. Angry, now, for reasons you can't discern slobbering over Simon's leg. "God, Lt. ah cannae—"

Johnny shifts back. You hear the clink of a belt. The rip of a zipper. Choked groans barely swallowed down as Simon buries his fingers inside of your weeping cunt over and over again, blunt tips cruelly skating over a spot inside, just behind your navel, that makes you feel liquid and loose between your hips. Debris floating down a whiteriver.

Pleasure peaks with each brutal thrust until you're howling into his leg, unable to move with their hands on your body, holding you down. Making you take it. Making you come undone as Johnny watches.

"fuck, fuck, Lt—she's gonna cum, ain't she?"

"Wanna feel it, Johnny?"

Simon's name falls out of his mouth on a whispered prayer. Drenched in thick reverence. Arched in need.

"aye, sir—" there's something about the hush of his voice, the way it slurs into putty. Enshrining his need in a halo of gold. It sends shivers down your spine. Heats you up fast like a fever. Sends you screaming over the edge—

"gonna miss it, Johnny. She's squeezin' me so fuckin' tight—"

Whatever else they say is swallowed by the keen clawing at the hollow of your throat when you feel the blunt, fat press of his cock knocking against your swollen, stuffed rim.

It's a burning thing—a sharp, heavy ache. Knock, knock. Simon spreads his fingers again, forcing you open. Pulling your hole wide apart for Johnny's engorged head to push up against.

It feels like being split down the middle. Ripped apart. Simon's fingers flex around your nape, thumb brushing soothingly against the knob of your spine.

Can take it, he mutters, brassy and low. A rumble just for you. Gotta take it, birdie.

You forget why. Why you need Johnny's too big, too fat cock inside of your cunt until the head bullies through, scissoring Simon's fingers apart until they're pressed tight on either side of the flared glands. Squeezed between your taut rim and Johnny's cock.

Johnny makes a noise like you've gutted him. A gutwrenching sob. "Oh, shite, Lt. M'—m'nae gonnae last—"

"gonna cum inside 'er, Johnny? Knock my pretty birdie up?"

Right. Right. A baby.

There's a heavy push. Your flesh wrenched apart to fit the fat, throbbing length of his cock—

(the cock that's gonna knock you up—)

Simon's fingers slip out of you as Johnny bucks forward, burying himself deep inside with a long, throaty groan. It's a horrible sensation—a bellyache. Without the splint of Simon's fingers forcing you open wide to near numbness, you're forced to feel the thick girth of his cock. Rim fluttering, spasming over the flared base. Too much, and somehow, not enough.

You sob through it. Each one ripples through your chest until it feels like it will collapse. Every inch of your body burns, throbbing. You don't think you'll survive this ache—

Johnny sets a brutal pace. Likes pistoning into you in quick succession until you're nearly howling into Simon's thigh before slowing to a crawl. Force-feeding you every inch. Making you feel every single one. Long strokes that batter the plug of your womb, bullying against the aching seal of your cervix until the flashes of pain, the savagery of this pleasure, makes you feel sick.

Getting fucked by Johnny like this is both a punishment and a reward. Baptism in hellfire.

Be careful what you wish for—

"gonnae fuck ye 'til it takes, doe. Knock ye up. Want th', don't ye? Aye. Can feel it. Feel this little cunt beggin' fer ma cum. Dinnae worry. Ahm gonnae give it tae ye. A' o' it, doe. Every—fuckin'—drop—"

Each awful word lands like acid on your spine. Chewing through flesh, tissue, until it melts bone below. Liquified. Helpless.

And with Johnny's hands on your hips, anchoring you in place as he hammers into your sore, abused pussy, possessed with the need to carve a space inside of your flesh where only he fits, rots, and Simon's hand on the scruff of your neck, holding you down, there's nowhere to run. Nowhere to escape the ragged breaths that spill from Johnny's slick mouth, the desperate way he pumps into you—thrusts growing sloppy as he stretches towards the precipice they dangle you off of, kicking and screaming as the scent of iron fills your nose, as his flared cockhead scrapes over that place you thought only Simon would ever know. Bluntly battering into the altar that sits, nestled behind your navel, like he's allowed.

Holy offering in a handful of seeds he'll sow over fecund land until something grows.

"Look at you take it," Simon coos, sticky, damp fingers petting over your tear-stained cheeks. It smells of loam. Salt. Iron and ozone. "So pretty when you're gettin' bred, ain't you, birdie?"

It rips a mournful keen from your chest, a feverish moan following on its heels when the lewd squelch, the echoing slapslapslap of Johnny driving into your cunt fills your ears. So wet, so messy, you can feel the slick drying, tacky and thick, on the inner crease of your bent knee.

"He's gonna put our baby in you, ain't he, birdie? Like a good mutt—"

The hands holding you over the precipice let go. Johnny's answering moan spears into your head, fluttering around the pulsing heartbeat of liquid bliss frothing in the pit of your belly. Overflowing over the rim.

Too much, you think, but that's not quite right because you can't feel anything at all except the length of his thick cock lodged deep inside you. Throbbing in tandem with your second pulse.

"gonnae cum, Lt. Gonnae—oh, fuck, Lt—"

His voice is a warm river washing over your spine. Pooling ecstacy. Something heavenly. Divine—

Molten gold blooms in the pit of your belly. Cockhead spitting against the seal of your womb as he cums, filling you to the brim. Fucking it into you even as his cock softens, unable to pull out he says.

Feels like fuckin' heaven, Lt.

"ain't she just?" Simon volleys back, sounding oddly dissonant. Off-key. "Pretty little birdie got what she wanted, huh?"

The drawl of his tone—acid-scorched, electric—forces you to blink through the tears, lifting your aching, wet eyes upwards at him. Searching.

He has the eyes of a predator. Leonine. The gaze of a beast after it's devoured something whole. His touch is as gentle as he can be—a rough, cracked scratch over your blistered cheeks—and when he meets your divining stare, he coos.

"Maybe I'll 'ave a go next time."

In the pounding, soporific slurry of your mind, you can't wrap your head around the words. Can't make sense of them. Struggling to keep your burning eyes open, even.

Not that it matters.

Johnny huffs a scorching breath of laughter over your sweat-slicked spine before wedging his forearm under your belly. Keeping your hips tipped up as he falls into you, resting his broad chest against your back and smothering you into the damp mattress.

"Yer cruel, Lt," he rasps, chin nuzzling over the arch of your shoulder, cock giving a feeble twitch inside of you at something you can't seem to piece together.

"m'jus' givin' my pretty bird exactly what she asked for." Huh? He prods, fingers tapping over your cheek when your swollen eyes slide shut. "Forgettin' y'manners, ain't you? Say thank you, pet."

With Johnny's half-formed chuckle echoing in your head, you mumble the words out on an exhausted sigh.

"an' say thank you to this mutt f'knockin' you up."

It comes out slower this time. Sluggish. His cock gives another twitch as he buries his face between your shoulder blades, smothering a groan.

"Sweetest thing, Lt. Christ—"

"more where that came from, Johnny. Jus' you wait an' see." Another tap. You mewl in response, feeling war-torn and achy. Unable to open your eyes for a second time, all you can do is whimper, burying yourself into his thigh. Pleading, silently, for clemency. Later, you think. Later—

But Simon has other plans.

"Fallin' asleep on me, birdie? Ain't even gonna give me a chance to put my baby in you? Greedy little thing, ain't she?"

Buried under the weight of Johnny as he peppers sucking, open mouth kisses over the width of your shoulder, cum leaking out around the softening plug of his cock, all you can do is snuff out the sob on the arch of his knee, resisting the urge to bite instead.

"Maybe next time then, eh, birdie?" Since you've been so good for this mutt, huh? Maybe I'll give you a reward.

Just be careful what you wish for, huh, birdie.

[mymarifae]

guys twitter dot com doesn't like when you criticize toriel's parenting decisions. don't do it

[arttsuka]

isabella and phinease qpr? /lh

Yes

Rewrite of that one scene because I didn't like it

Bonus:

[halflifebutawesome]

genuine question am I the only one around here that sees the gman as actively antagonistic or am I the outlier

[luna-loveboop]

There is sooo much fun contrast between Breath of the Wild and Age of Calamity Link, and the one I can't stop laughing at is SHIELD SURFING it is ridiculous!

Like here's Shield surfing in Botw-

It's pretty, and if it's rainy I can slide even more. I do it for fun off a nearby hill if I have a shield to spare. I press Y or X to do a fancy kick or spin, and I can attack some monsters with it passing by. The greatest danger with shield surfing is Link hitting a rock, his shield breaking, and him dying or using a fairy/Mipha's grace. More likely he eats some a lot of apples. Outside of Link potentionally breaking a leg tho, it's fun! I once caught a horse in botw by shield surfing, I spun and accidentally flip-flopped onto her, named her Flip-flop in remembrance. If I do some kicks and jumps while shield surfing Link will even laugh and make happy sounds, which shows he's enjoying it. Fun happy times in botw while shield surfing :)

Then there's Shield surfing in Aoc-

Link screams HYAH! or some other raging and loud battle cry, as he hops on his shield and speeds, not towards, not around, but straight into whatever monsters stand in his way. The agonised cries of dying monsters fill the air as Link turns into a tunnel of pure deadly force. Is he going uphill? downhill? Doesn't matter, he's going, gravity has no hold on him. The worst case scenario you ask? Link shield surfs straight into a bomb barrel. Takes everything out quicker, and he loses half a heart from it. I finished an entire mission using only Link's shield surfing the other day. The game reminded me how to dodge bc it thought I forgot the other controls. I didn't need to dodge, just surf. Aoc Link doesn't go shield surfing for fun, he is on a mission and he becomes a whirling funnel of death.

And I mean all that literally by the way-

Botw Link: Shield surfs for fun and freedom while trying to survive! :D

Aoc Link: Shield surfs to KILL and destroy, he is out for blood

tbc I love Aoc Link he's a sweetheart just a very deadly one

And hey, looking at how the ability controls are explained in the game-

Botw- "Hop on your shield and slide down hills."

Aoc- "Link: One-Handed Weapons / Press X while running to shield surf."

So- in Botw it IS for fun- 'hop on'- whereas in Aoc shield surfing is an attack. hmm

..It makes sense I guess. Aoc Link killed the enemy, and Botw was the one who was killed- but it seems in the end Wild's the one who gets to live.

YEAH so anyways I actually cannot at the moment shield surf in Aoc without laughing bc he is so. so very violent.

I mean look! Look at the difference of scenes left behind after Link goes shield surfing (Botw, then Aoc)

An everybody-lives story is really a everybody-dies story for the enemy huh

[knockknockitsnickels]

Something which I think is kind of under-discussed regarding the Princess is how lonely she is, esp in contrast to you (the player). From the start of the game, you're never alone. You've got the Narrator - despite how questionable his company is - and the Voice of the Hero, then slowly all of your other voices. She doesn't have that. We see in Princess and the Dragon, every time a new loop starts she's completely alone with only the thought that this is what she deserves. You're the only thing she has.

Shifty asks "Why wouldn't I be kind to you? You're the only thing I know which isn't me." And we see in the game - with some exceptions, like the Witch - the Princess' goal come chapter 2 is always to have your company. Sometimes it's to subjugate you, like the Tower, and sometimes it's for help escaping, but she's almost always seeking your companionship in some way.

But you've got your voices, and the Narrator. You never really needed her, did you? I'm thinking about PATD again, where you can spend the whole chapter bonding with her only to immediately turn on her the second you get your body back ("Good to be back, boys"). In the final cabin at the end of the game, the Heart Princess can mention the whole conflict boils down to whether Shifty (and by extension, the Princess herself) "should" get to exist. If you kill the Heart Princess, you've still got your voices. There's no ending where she lives on alone. I don't think she'd even WANT an ending like that.

She just makes me very sad. You're the only thing she knows, and in some routes you're just. Relentlessly cruel to her.

[voidwelt]

The mispronunciation of Welt's name used to bother me (as it is canonically meant to be based on the German word, so it should be spoken with a harder V sound). I studied German in school, so I had to work myself out of pronouncing it correctly, just so the game pronunciation would stop bothering me.

But as time passes, I sort of come to think, the way the reason for this mispronunciation IRL is the intent being lost in translation (CN doesn't quite have the right syllables for the German pronunciation and EN direction carried this along in HSR), the reason for its mispronunciation in-game could, if you like, also be chalked up to something being lost in translation (in a different way).

I like to imagine Welt Joyce's name is 100% pronounced correctly. (No EN dub exists to prove me wrong). He got the name right from its source, given to him by a German, and mentions as such when he dies, "Welt" for "World" in German. There's no way it's not meant to be pronounced correctly.

When it gets passed down to Yang, the meaning is still there, but the interpretation is muddied through the inherent perception filter of a young person (as is his interpretation of the duty as a whole). He sees Joyce bleed out against the concrete to save a city and he internalises this as the legacy and the "burden" of Welt. The German word becomes a gifted Title that represents protecting the World first and foremost, and then as its bearer takes off to the stars, off of that original world, in an attempt to save others, it's even further divorced from its original language context.

When Welt describes the meaning of his name to Sunday, he's come up with his own, adjusted and extended definition for it. He's expanded onto it with his own thoughts, influenced by the Trailblaze and how many lives he's come into contact with. "Each person is a world unto themselves, with as many possibilities as the distant stars." (paraphrased)

(He also says some stuff about how the Trailblaze doesn't end when you leave the Express, so it really makes me think of how he might think of... Ahem. Anyway, back to topic.)

Ultimately, Welt Joyce and Welt Yang have the same first name/title in text and in writing, but...

If they're pronounced differently, it just goes to show, that no matter how hard Welt (Yang) attempts to personally embody his hero in all that he does, how hard he tries to carry this legacy in its purest form, they're ultimately still different people, with different experiences, with different souls.

Or, I could just be looking too much into a minor flaw in the translation process! Isn't that the fun of thinking too hard about things? Should we run Mr. Yang over with our shared car? We have to do something about this

[vanilla-bean-buttercream]

"Allies should be okay with hearing hard truths that we have been suffering through for years, because if a child has to experience it, they as an adult can take the time to understand it with their adult brain and their adult emotions, and if they cannot handle that, I shouldn't have to be okay with handling their feelings gently."

and

"Sometimes we go too hard on allies because they're the only person who benefits from the problem who will listen to us, and the anger that we have carried from being wronged for years should not be put solely put on the shoulders of people trying to help us, and they should not have to be okay with being mistreated with the same hatred that people have aimed at us."

Can and should coexist actually.

[painom]

Hello! Can I just say that I really appreciate you doing this? I've always been a big fan of your analyses and your ability to get to the root of the characters. Thank you for continuing to let us read your wonderful thoughts and stories.

On your old blog, you discussed your headcannons for Lyney, one being his tendency to forget things like where he put his wallet because him and his mind are very busy. Unfortunately, I didn't save the post (my biggest regret ahhhhh!) and I would love to read your analysis once more. If it's okay with you, could you go over your headcannons for Lyney again? The old, the new, whatever's on your mind and whatever you're willing to share. Thank you so much!

Thank you for the kind ask, anon! Here you go!

New Lyney Headcanons

Self-focused - Though he never seems like it, those that know Lyney well know that he’s often running low on sleep. And really, he has no one to blame but himself. During the day he’s often distracted with magic shows, helping people, little tasks around the hotel, running missions for Father, and much more. And at night? He can often be found alone in his room planning new tricks, arranging missions for his siblings, studying to become the next “king” of the House, and things of the sort. If Lynette and Freminet didn’t keep an eye on him, no doubt he would stay up the whole night if given the chance! Those two welcome all the help they can get. 

Relationship-focused - When it comes to his relationship with you, Lyney never lies. You know he would never do that to you. And sometimes, the knowledge almost lulls you into a false sense of security. Yet you know better. You’re smarter than that. Where Lyney doesn’t lie, he omits. Half-truths so easily fall from his mouth as drops of rain from the sky. Your comments of concern are often brushed off and your questions redirected. As much as you try, you know the truth. He doesn’t want you to know. He doesn’t want you to shoulder his burdens with him. 

old lyney headcanons below!

Would Lyney be honest with you?

With his outgoing and fun personality, it oftentimes is easy to get caught within his flow. Lyney is the charming sort, after all, that one may very well forget that he is subject to the same struggles as the rest. Get to know him well enough, though, and you will quickly realize that this is not a fact he wishes others to know. More than a desire, he needs to be seen as someone in control, as someone without weakness. That’s his role as the big brother. And if that means lying, avoiding, and omitting the truth to accomplish it, then an accomplished performer like himself will do what he must. 

Does Lyney prefer to pursue or be pursued?

With a penchant for flair and dramatics, it’s clear to see Lyney prefers to pursue the people he’s interested in. Really, it’s one of the things he goes all out. With a trick up his sleeve, he won’t hesitate to dazzle you with flowers pulled from nowhere and fireworks from his tophat. He wants you to be enchanted. He wants you to be impressed! You are, aren’t you? You like it, don’t you? So focused on charming you that he often loses sight of much else. Fun fact, should you attempt to turn the tables, however, you can expect his mask of self-confidence to fall to reveal a rather flustered expression beneath. 

Headcanons

Self-focused - If there’s one thing that’s true about Lyney, it is that he is a very busy person. As a person with multiple masks and roles, his thoughts are often preoccupied with House missions, performances, new tricks, and things of the like. So, much to the dismay of others, it’s easy for things to become buried under the multitude of other tasks he needs to take care of. How often the simple things become forgotten—where he last left his wallet, tea time with his siblings, the sale on storybooks at the bookstore. During those times, he really can’t help but appreciate his siblings and their ability to keep him on track. Really, he doesn’t know what he’d do without them!

Relationship-focused - It doesn’t hit you at first, but it doesn’t take you very long to notice how hard Lyney tries for your relationship. Normally this would be a good thing, but it is different with Lyney. Every day he tries to charm you. Every day he attempts to enchant you. You tell him he doesn’t need to try so hard, but that only seems to light a fire beneath him to do even more. You see it in his eyes. He needs to know you are still in awe of him, that you like him as much as he does you. And then it sinks in, doesn’t it? He doesn’t trust you. He doesn’t trust your feelings for him. He’ll never show his true face to you.

old tags for this post: #okay let’s talk lyney for a bit i think the biggest thing to know about lyney is that at his core he is an insecure person insecure and anxious #imo he’s extremely attached to his title of ‘big brother’ that he needs to fulfill the duties if such he needs to protect his siblings and be a person others can rely on #this belief is so strong that he refuses to rely on arlecchino for help and snaps at freminet for trying to get him to open up #he really cares about the way he’s perceived #remember when the traveler found out he’s part of the fatui and he spends his time bending over backwards to try to get them to trust him ‘like me! like me! please. i’m trustworthy i’ll never lie to you please!!’ #honestly imo that’s just one if his faults like lyney is unstable #idk what possessed arlecchino to make him her successor like he’d crack under pressure #lynette is a way better option #but anyway bc of these things he would not trust his partner in a relationship #he wouldn’t rely on them he’d never feel secure which would prompt him to keep trying too hard to ensure he’s still the person he thinks you fell in love with #the most important thing to remember with lyney is that he is a performer and the face he shows to the world is essentially a mask

What’s Lyney’s breaking point in a relationship?

It’s hard to imagine, really. With how much Lyney may seem in love, the idea there’s a point a relationship would be too much for him is hard to believe. But when you really think about it, his breaking point is simple. As strong as his feelings may be for you, his devotion to his family and its cause outweighs everything else. Should your relationship with him ever reach a time where it encroaches upon that which is the most precious to him, then there’s nothing more he can do than let you go.

old tags for this post: #i think the key thing to take in here is that lyney cannot function without his family he is extremely reliant upon them to the extent that he will become unstable without them #just look at the archon quest when wriothesley captured his siblings any and all logic completely went out the window #lyney is an anxious insecure mess and the only thing that holds him together is playing the role he has to as big brother #if your relationship with him ever reaches the point that you transcend into being counted as his family.... he will have no breaking point #the breaking point will be his mind or body. whichever breaks first

[inkly-heart]

please don’t be sad little sprout, you are loved 🌱 🖤

🌱

[itz-pandora]

Thank you guys for dealing with me

[burningcheese-merchant]

I'm really sorry for asking, I hope this isn't an intrusive question. You don't have to answer if you don't want to, but I've noticed you've toned down your burningcheese posts. Are you taking a break? I hope this ask doesn't come around as being demanding or intrusive. I just really miss seeing burningcheese since there's hardly anything on the tags anymore from what I've noticed. If you are taking a break, please don't feel pressured to answer this post. You deserve a break after everything that's happened

Have I? Doesn't really seem like that to me... But I guess I don't know? Feels like I've been posting and reblogging stuff about them like usual. I guess not? I've been posting a lot about the fankids recently, is that it? Those don't count as burningcheese posts? Haha

But yeah uh I'm sorry if I've given that impression. This ship is still infecting my brain all day every day dont worry haha. I guess i just. I haven't been doing well recently. Nothing to do with internet drama or anything I don't care about that. I've been facing a lot of genuine hardship irl. and i guess it's starting to show on here? Maybe? I'm not really sure. In any case i do apologize if it seems like I'm losing interest or anything like that. Promise I'm not. I'm always thinking about them lol they're a plague. They're a curse. Devsisters owes me reparations at this point. Or rent money for the space in my brain they've been squatting in. Tenant's rights don't exist in my mindscape, they're in big trouble

[cosmics-beings]

I think another thing I like about starscream, yet hate that the fandom fails to acknowledge about starscream is that, a lot of his rotten personality and his nastiness comes from way before he meets megatron and way before he was a deception.

That’s not to say that a lot of the ways he acts doesn't mirror megatron and the mistreatment he went through. and that impacts how starscream heals, makes friends, etc., idw - like what megatron did still badly affects him and that's not something to be ignored, and it's still not fair that he doesn't get the same happiness megatron did.

But, I think that people do tend to act as if Starscream was perfect and uncorrupt before Megatron.

That's not true...starscream was also a rotten, manipulative and bad person before that. and a lot of that was in response to how he was treated and hating his own body/existence, and the caste system, etc. We see how a lot of people in transformers react to oppression and I think starscream is such an interesting case of someone who is so angry and furious at the system he was created in that he takes it out on others yet still fights for himself and only himself. It is sad, and it’s awful to see how his own existence and the caste system does destroy him, but I think its important to note and to understand to just see how oppressed people still have to fight through their own oppression and sometimes, because of that, because of the trauma they go through, turn rotten. And Starscream did terrible, sneaky, and awful things. He did shitty things to climb to the top and he hurt those around him, he hurt people he trusted him, and he was happy to be that way. No one made him evil, manipulative, or untrustworthy, he did that on his own.

I don’t like that a lot of the fandom tends to tie Starsream’s negative and problematic behavior and personality to megatron because it also takes away from a lot of growth, agency and discussion about starscream’s personality and why he is the way he is.

He wasn’t a perfect, innocent and shy person before he met megatron, or before he became a deception. He still did awful things and while becoming a deception was a way he could grow past the system that created him, he still did very much do so for power. Starscream was an ambitious yet a morally ambiguous person before megatron and he had to be to survive in his own mind. His life wasn’t perfect and happy before megatron, he was still fighting and he was still scheming to survive.

I really don’t like how people kind of take that away from him, and act like everything he does and every shitty way he acts is *because* of megatron. I know it’s not fun to have to admit that he wasn’t a good person before megatron met him, but I think it’s necessary to understand his character, and not a lot of people do. And when you don’t do that, you have people misinterpreting his character and being genuinely shocked when he does villainous things. Like for instance, sky bound starscream’s actions shock a lot of people because they don’t think that he is a villain - I remember a lot of ES critique is that earthspark starscream doesn’t need a redemption act- he just needs people to love and accept him. And I think you guys forgot that he was also a space fascist and enjoyed killing people on his own accord. And while megatron himself does impact how starscream acts and treats others - starscream still was an extremely problematic person eons before he met megatron.

I don’t think this negates just how badly Megatron’s treatment fucked him up, and made it so that it was difficult for him to form relationships even after, or find happiness. And I think that’s just something that cannot be ignored. But I also think starscream is more interesting as a character if the fandom acknowledged that he was this way before, that he wasn’t perfect or innocent, and that he reacted that way because he was unhappy with is life, his station, his caste, etc.

this also isn't a chance to come and try to excuse how megatron treated him, so pls don't do that on here.

[rowanwithaz]

I better see a 100k fic about teacher Izuku and pro hero Katsuki. I'm begging you,guys,this is so much content! HORI WHY WOULD YOU LEAVE ME WITH MORE BRAIN WORMS THAN BEFORE???

[angelsdean]

don't know how people multi-fandom. dipped my toe into another one and immediately backed out bc everyone there was insufferable.

[onesnoopyaday]

snoopy blue-eyed person stare

Snoopy #87

27/12/2024