#it's the fact of how EASY it was for people to believe it was him because they anticipated something

[slimepuparibaba]

LnDS HCs: Sylus (General HCs)

HI! I HAVE TOO MANY HEADCANONS FOR SYLUS SO PLEASE TAKE THEM!! THEY WILL DEFO NOT BE ACCURATE COME JULY BUT STILL IM USING WHAT SCRAPS OF INFO I HAVE RN AND IF HE TURNS OUT LIKE THIS APOLLO GAVE ME THE GIFT OF PROPHECY

IF THIS IS INACCURATE I WILL COMMIT CHAPTER 4 OKOK

GENERAL HC DUMP / PREDICTIONS (MAYBE DONT COUNT ON IT)

Okay, we all agree he comes off as the type of guy that would burn the world for you.

BUT!

Big but here.

I don't think he's a terrible boyfriend or anything. In fact, he genuinely does love you.

I believe, me personally, you are the one weakness this man has and he will treat you with care. Is the way he treats you rough around the edges and comes off a little different than most? Yes.

But he won't ever actually hurt you. He watches you from afar like a silent protector to make sure you aren't hurt, even using his Evol to make sure you STAY alive.

I personally think he might actually treat you kinda like one of his men, like an equal in terms of "you can definitely handle yourself and I know you're strong", but he'll still keep an eye on you just because you're that important to him. He trusts you.

...okay, so like, maybe not completely trust you because let's be honest here, you're kiiiinda prone to trying dumb shit on him, but it's funny. He'll forgive it. The smug bastard.

From what I've seen, he comes off cool, suave, knows what he's doing. Cocky.

Bad boy. He's a bad boy in all sense of the word.

He knows what he's doing, he's confident, he's charming. Knows what to say and do. He's also a CEO so dealing with people? Basically easy for him.

When it comes to you? He will flirt. Because he likes getting a reaction out of you.

I bet he teases you a TON. You hate him? Good. At least you have him in your thoughts.

Love is war with him. You try to scheme? He already has a counter. Man is 100 steps ahead of you, but just likes seeing you make a complete fool of yourself.

You know when he gets the upper hand he'll have that signature smirk of his that just screams "kiss me to shut me up and I'll consider this your win".

You thought Rafayel had an ego? Nah. NAH, THIS DUDE HAS AN E G O.

Sparring sessions with him are very likely. He'd probably be like "alright, but not going easy on you" or something cocky like that with a smug smirk on his face.

Man genuinely treats you as his equal though when training. Teaches you everything he knows and points out some techniques you might be rusty on.

Rizz is off the charts. He's lived in the N109 Zone and breathed it for so long. He's a sweet talker, so be prepared for him to know how to make you melt.

But also, he will actually spoil you. Will he make you work for it? Yes. He will give you an entire runaround (make you say please, make you verbalize it, etc), but he does it because he loves you.

You are genuinely his soft spot, and I CANNOT stress this enough.

The things he does in the dark are things he does FOR YOU. His reason for being REVOLVES around you, you just don't know it yet. Don't let him being the leader of Onichynus get to your head—he has method to his madness.

[transform4u]

In the heart of bustling Austin, Texas, where the twang of southern drawls blends with the eclectic rhythm of city life, there was Chad Dalton, a buff wannabe bodybuilder, and personal trainer. At twenty-eight, he stood tall at 6’5” with a physique sculpted by years of relentless training and the grit of his rural upbringing. A former college football star turned gym trainer, Chad's presence in the fitness world was as commanding as his massive 269-pound frame.

Raised in a tight-knit southern community, Chad had brought with him not just his imposing stature but also an accent that marked him as unmistakably Texan. He wore it proudly, knowing well how it charmed the ladies or at least he believed it did. His alpha male demeanor and penchant for straight talk. The fact was Chad was a fucking douchebag.

Days were regimented with protein shakes and weightlifting sessions, a routine instilled by his former coach who had driven him to victory against their fiercest rivals. Now, Chad found himself in the role training others in the gym where his own legend grew. But mostly he liked to belittled the gay men in gym for their weak bodies. His impressive gains and bulging biceps made him a sight to behold, drawing admiration and envy alike from those around him.

And now here he was training people in this fancy gym instead of playing ball for some big-time team like everyone expected him to do after graduation. But screw them! Chad knew what was best for himself—and that meant staying single and focusing solely on improving himself physically so that no woman could resist his charm (or at least not for long).

Chad harbored views that were far from politically correct. His online rants against what he called "PC culture" and his dismissive remarks about "SJW chicks" were a stark contrast to the charismatic trainer who effortlessly charmed women at the gym.

One fateful evening, Chad found himself at a gay bar. It wasn’t the men he sought there, but rather the women—easy targets, he thought, like shooting fish in a barrel.

As Chad leaned casually against the bar, his eyes scanning the room for his next conquest, he spotted Samantha. With her blonde hair cascading over her shoulders and a figure that turned heads, she stood out even in the dimly lit bar. Determined to make an impression, Chad sauntered over with his characteristic confidence.

"Hey there, gorgeous," he drawled in his deep southern accent, flashing a grin that he knew had won over countless women before.

Samantha, however, gave him a skeptical look, her eyebrow raised as she sipped her cocktail. "Oh, hey," she replied coolly, clearly unimpressed. "You're quite the charmer, aren't you?"

Chad chuckled, undeterred by her lukewarm reception. "Can't help it when I see a beautiful lady like yourself," he replied, leaning in a bit closer.

She sighed, her annoyance thinly veiled. "Look, Chad, right?" Samantha asked, crossing her arms. "I'm not really into the whole 'gym bro' thing. All my friends here," she gestured subtly to the crowd around them, "they're all gay. I'm not sure you're their type."

Chad blinked, momentarily taken aback. "Oh, come on now, I'm just having a good time," he protested, trying to charm his way back into her good graces. "I'm sure we can find some common ground."

Samantha smirked, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "You know what, Chad? You seem like you could use another drink. Let me get you one," she said smoothly, turning to walk towards the bar.

Chad grinned broadly, thinking he was making progress. "Sure thing, sweetheart. I'll take whatever you're having," he called after her, watching as she ordered two drinks from the bartender.

Little did Chad know, Samantha was more than just a pretty face. As she whispered a quick incantation over one of the drinks, a sly smile played on her lips. And incantation that would turn Chad in the most stereotypical gay guy at the bar, at least what Chad would believe to be a stereotype. "By the power of three, by the might of me, transform this man into what he truly would hate to be. Make him gay as a rainbow flag flying high, with a love for glitter and all things shiny. Let his voice be like honeyed whispers in the night, his body lean and toned with just enough muscle tight. Give him confidence that knows no bounds, charm that turns heads around. May he become the stereotype he makes fun of so much, fill him with gay lust."

She slid both drinks across the bar towards Chad, who eagerly picked up the one she had touched.

"Here you go," Samantha said sweetly, handing him the glass.

Chad lifted the drink to his lips, taking a long sip and smacking his lips appreciatively. "Thanks, Samantha. So, tell me more about yourself," he prompted, trying to keep the conversation flowing.

But as the last drop of the enchanted drink slid down his throat, Chad began to feel a strange sensation. His muscles seemed to relax, and a warmth spread through his body. Confused, he looked around the bar, suddenly aware of the vibrant energy and the laughter of the patrons around him.

As Chad continued to sip his drink, unaware of Samantha's magical intervention, a strange sensation began to creep over him. At first, he felt a light-headedness, as if a fog had settled in his brain, making his thoughts feel like they were wrapped in cotton candy. Samantha watched with concealed amusement as Chad's voice started to rise in pitch, a puzzled look crossing his face.

"So, Samantha, I was saying," Chad began, his words coming out in a higher, more melodious tone than before, "what do you do for fun around here?"

Samantha nodded along, her smile widening as Chad's once towering presence seemed to shrink before her eyes. His shoulders relaxed, and his posture subtly changed, losing some of its imposing stature. Chad's height diminished gradually, inch by inch, until he stood at a more modest 5 foot 5, a far cry from his former 6 foot 5.

Chad blinked, feeling disoriented as he looked down at himself, noticing the sudden change in perspective. "Whoa," he muttered, his voice now distinctly softer and more delicate, was there a bit of a lisp even? "Something theels... different."

Samantha chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling mischievously as she observed the transformation taking place. "Looks like that drink had a bit of a kick, huh?" she teased lightly, handing Chad a napkin as he nearly stumbled against the bar, feeling off balance in his suddenly smaller frame.

Chad glanced around nervously, suddenly aware of the curious glances from other patrons in the bar. "What... what's happening to me?" he asked, his voice tinged with a mix of confusion and a hint of panic.

Samantha leaned in closer, her tone reassuring yet tinged with amusement. "Relax, Chad. It's just a little magic," she explained cryptically, watching as Chad's features softened, his muscles seeming to lose some of their bulk.

As the reality of his transformation settled in, Chad realized with growing alarm that he was not only physically shrinking but also beginning to adopt mannerisms that felt foreign to him. He clasped his hands together nervously, noticing the delicate shape of his fingers and the way his shoulders seemed to naturally curve inward.

"I... I feel different," Chad murmured, his voice now almost musical in its softness. "What did you do to me?"

Samantha chuckled again, a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. "Let's just say, you're about to see the world from a whole new perspective," she replied cryptically, gesturing for Chad to follow her as she led him towards the dance floor, where the rhythm of the music seemed to beckon him with a newfound allure.

As Chad tentatively took her hand and joined the dance, his movements were now graceful and fluid, a stark contrast to his former swaggering gait. Samantha watched with satisfaction, knowing that her playful spell had set in motion a transformation that would challenge Chad's perceptions of himself and those around him in ways he never expected.

As the music pulsed through the club, Chad's body moved with a new grace and ease that he had never experienced before. His movements were lithe and fluid, every step and sway feeling strangely natural yet unfamiliar. Gone were the bulky muscles honed from years of football practice and intense weightlifting sessions. Now, all he seemed to crave was the rhythmic beat of the dance floor.

With each passing moment, Chad felt lighter, as if a weight he hadn't realized he'd been carrying was lifting from his shoulders. The transformation was subtle at first, imperceptible to anyone but himself and Samantha, who watched with quiet amusement from the sidelines.

Chad's once prominent biceps and pecs began to shrink, the defined contours softening into a leaner, more slender form. His legs, once thick with muscle, now became toned and sleek, perfect for the agile movements of dancing. Abs that were once chiseled began to flatten slightly, a faint hint of definition remaining as his body reshaped itself.

But the most astonishing change was happening to Chad's face. Lines that had etched themselves from years of determined focus and occasional scowls smoothed away, replaced by a youthful glow that seemed to emanate from within. His features softened, his jawline becoming less angular, and his eyes sparkled with a newfound warmth and openness.

As his body continued to transform, Chad felt a curious sensation—a sensation of time rewinding. Memories of grueling football practices and weightlifting routines began to fade, replaced by a simpler desire for movement and joy. He felt a lightness of being, as if shedding layers of his former self to reveal a truer essence beneath.

And as the minutes passed, Chad's age seemed to rewind as well. From 27... to 26... to 25... and down, down, down until he settled at 21, the age where life had seemed full of possibilities and freedom, unburdened by the expectations he had once carried.

Samantha watched with satisfaction as Chad, now transformed into a young man with a twinkish charm that suited him far better than his former alpha persona, grinned back at her with a newfound radiance. His once cold demeanor had melted away, replaced by a warmth and kindness that drew people to him effortlessly.

"Wow," Chad murmured, running a hand through his newly tousled hair, feeling the lightness of his transformed body. "I... I feel different. Younger. Free."

Samantha nodded, her eyes gleaming with amusement and pride. "You look great," she said simply, knowing that Chad's journey was far from over but that this night had marked a profound shift in his life.

And as Chad embraced his new self, dancing under the lights with a joy and abandon he had never known, he realized that sometimes, a little magic was all it took to uncover who you were truly meant to be.

As Chad danced under the pulsing lights of the club, a transformation deeper than his physical appearance was taking hold. The music seemed to seep into his soul, stirring emotions and memories that felt simultaneously foreign and strangely familiar. With each beat, the memories of his rigorous gym routines, football practices, and the once cherished protein shakes faded like distant echoes.

He couldn't recall the details of his workouts or the names of his former teammates. The competitive drive that had fueled his athletic pursuits now seemed distant and irrelevant. Instead, a newfound appreciation for artistic expression blossomed within him, sparked by the melodies that enveloped him on the dance floor.

Chad's conservative edge softened and dissolved under the influence of the music. Ideas and beliefs he had staunchly defended began to shift, replaced by a liberal openness to new experiences and perspectives. He found himself drawn to conversations about social justice, equality, and inclusivity—topics that had never held his interest before.

As the night wore on, Chad's interests continued to evolve. He discovered a deep love for musical theatre and showtunes, melodies that spoke to emotions he had never fully explored. Memories of his college years resurfaced, reminding him of the acting classes he had once taken, the stage he had once tread upon with dreams of performing.

"I used to love acting," Chad murmured to Samantha between songs, his voice soft and introspective. "I remember now... I wanted to be an actor."

Samantha smiled knowingly, her eyes reflecting pride in Chad's newfound self-discovery. "You've always had a flair for drama," she teased gently, watching as Chad's face lit up with a childlike enthusiasm.

"Yeah," Chad nodded, a spark of excitement igniting in his eyes. "I'm going to be totes hungover for classes."

As Chad continued to dance, the rhythm of the music intertwined with his shifting identity. Memories of his former self, Chad the alpha gym bro, seemed to dissolve like mist in the vibrant lights of the club. Instead, a new persona emerged—a carefree and effervescent spirit that Chad had never known before.

"Sammmyyy!" Chad exclaimed with a giggle, his voice tinged with a playful lilt as he twirled around Samantha, who watched with a mixture of amusement and awe. "You're, like, my fag hag now, right? I totes don't wanna ditch you, but like, I'm here to snag the cutest boys tonight. It's Pride, for gosh sakes!"

Samantha laughed, her eyes twinkling with affection for the transformed Chad, now Gabriel—or Gabby, as everyone called him. She nodded along as Gabby spoke in cute little TikTok lingo, his speech peppered with heart emojis and playful hashtags.

As the night progressed, Gabby's transformation continued. His once sturdy frame morphed into something more lithe and youthful, clad in tight booty shorts and a crop top that accentuated his newly slender physique. His hair, once meticulously styled, now tumbled into a tousled mess of blonde locks that framed his youthful face.

Gone was the crude and brash language of Chad, replaced by the sweet and endearing chatter of a cute and somewhat vapid himbo. Gabby flitted from group to group, flashing bright smiles and striking poses for selfies, his newfound charm drawing admirers like moths to a flame.

"OMG, you guys are so cute!" Gabby squealed, snapping a series of selfies with a group of fellow partygoers. "Let's get this on TikTok, like, ASAP!"

Samantha watched with pride as Gabby embraced his new identity with unabashed enthusiasm. It was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, allowing him to embrace the freedom and joy of being his true self—a persona that shimmered with positivity and a zest for life.

As a rising TikTok star, Gabby had amassed a following drawn to his infectious energy and charming personality. His videos were a mix of dance challenges, lip-sync performances, and heartfelt messages about self-love and acceptance. With a knack for engaging storytelling and an unapologetic love for all things fabulous, Gabby's feed was a vibrant reflection of his newfound identity.

In addition to his social media success, Gabby was pursuing a degree in Theatre, where his natural talent for performance shone brightly. He could captivate an audience with his singing voice, whether it was belting out a Broadway ballad or charming patrons in a cozy bar with his favorite showtune.

Gabby woke up the next morning, his body still sore from the night before. Hungover as fuck. He glanced over at the muscular otter sleeping soundly beside him, a smile tugging at his lips as he took in their intertwined limbs and sweat-dampened skin.

As the first light of morning filtered through the curtains, Gabby stirred, slowly becoming aware of the warm, solid presence beside him. His eyes fluttered open, and he turned his head to see a man lying next to him, the sheets barely covering his muscular, hairy chest. Gabby blinked, trying to piece together the events of the night before and struggling to recall the man's name.

Sensing Gabby's movement, the man beside him opened his eyes and smiled warmly. "Good morning. I'm Brad, by the way."

Gabby’s heart skipped a beat as he took in the sight of Brad. He had a rugged handsomeness that seemed almost sculpted—strong jawline, perfectly tousled dark hair, and a five o'clock shadow that gave him an effortlessly masculine appeal. His deep brown eyes were filled with an inviting warmth that made Gabby’s pulse quicken.

Brad’s body was a marvel to behold. His broad shoulders and expansive chest tapered down to a well-defined abdomen. Each muscle seemed to be meticulously chiseled, and his skin bore a healthy tan that spoke of time spent outdoors. The light dusting of hair on his chest added to his raw, primal allure.

Gabby couldn’t tear his eyes away from Brad’s pecs, which were impressive and inviting. His gaze lingered, tracing the lines of Brad’s muscles, and he felt a surge of desire. Brad noticed Gabby’s stare and grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He gave Gabby a slow, deliberate wink and began to flex, his muscles rippling under his skin.

Without warning, Brad pulled Gabby close, their bodies pressing together, and captured Gabby’s lips in a passionate kiss. The intensity of the kiss made Gabby’s head spin, and he melted into Brad’s embrace, his hands roaming over the hard planes of Brad’s back. Brad’s strong arms wrapped around him, holding him firmly yet tenderly.

Gabby’s mind raced, filled with the overwhelming attraction he felt for Brad. Every touch, every movement only heightened his desire. Brad’s kisses trailed from Gabby’s lips to his neck, making him shiver with anticipation.

"I can’t wait to go again," Brad murmured against Gabby’s skin, his voice a low, husky whisper that sent shivers down Gabby’s spine.

Gabby could hardly breathe, his heart pounding in his chest. The morning sun bathed them in a soft glow, and for a moment, the world outside ceased to exist.

Gabby couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement as he gazed upon Brad's muscular form. He was everything Gabby had ever fantasized about in a partner—strong, confident, and undeniably sexy.

"Wait," he said softly before leaning in for a passionate kiss that left Gabby reeling with desire. When they finally broke apart, Brad looked deep into Gabby's eyes and said simply: "I want you."

Without another word, they tumbled over and over in bed together. Hands roamed freely over each other's skin while lips locked hungrily together in fiery kisses that left both men breathless yet yearning for more. As Brad reached down to stroke his hard cock against Gabby's ass cheek teasingly through his briefs—a silent invitation accepted without hesitation—Gabby felt himself melting into pure bliss under this newfound lover's touch...

Gabby gasped as Brad's fingers traced a path down his spine, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through his body. He couldn't help but moan softly in response to the sensation, arching his back slightly to give Brad better access.

Brad chuckled softly against Gabby's neck before leaning in for another passionate kiss that left both men breathless yet yearning for more. As their tongues danced together teasingly within the confines of their mouths, Gabby felt himself growing increasingly horny and horny—a feeling only heightened when Brad finally pulled away with a wicked grin on his face.

"Ready?" he asked playfully before reaching over to grab a condom from the bedside table without waiting for an answer; clearly implying that he was going to take what he wanted regardless if Gabby was prepared or not…

Gabby nodded eagerly, his heart racing with anticipation as Brad rolled the condom onto his already-hard cock. Without further ado, he positioned himself behind Gabby and slowly pushed into him in one smooth motion.

Gabby let out a soft moan of pleasure at the sensation of being filled so completely by someone else for the first time; it was both exhilarating and terrifying all at once—a heady mix of emotions that left him reeling with desire for more. As Brad began to move within him slowly yet deliberately, Gabby couldn't help but wrap his arms around Brad's shoulders tightly while arching his back slightly off the bed in response to each thrust; their bodies becoming one fluid motion as they lost themselves entirely within this moment together…

Their passionate lovemaking continued well into the afternoon, fueled by an undeniable chemistry that seemed to ignite between them from the very beginning. As Brad's movements grew more urgent and primal with each passing minute, Gabby found himself matching his rhythm perfectly—lost in a haze of pleasure as he surrendered completely to this newfound connection between them.

Finally, after what felt like hours but could only have been minutes in reality, Brad let out a loud cry before collapsing onto Gabby's sweat-dampened skin. For his part, Gabby couldn't help realize he was now nothing but a horny, slutty twink and he loved it. Time to make a Grindr profile.

[foreseersgaze]

KEEP YOU SAFE WITH ME (SYLUS YANDERE HCS)

— SYLUS YANDERE HCS X GN!READER

— Summary: Headcanons for Sylus, where he captures you and keeps you locked up in his home.

— Warnings: Yandere, isolating, corruption, stalking, manipulation. SPOILERS FOR CANON STORY CHAPTERS.

— WC: 878

— A/N:It's been a while since I've actually read the main story chapters so I apologize if some of the information about the Protocores is incorrect! Let's just pretend it's not though just for the fun of it hehe.

Sylus is a yandere. He will do anything to isolate you and get you alone so you can be his.

That being said, he's one to take his time. He plays the long game, and once he gets you, he is one for keeping you locked up, away from everyone else so no one else can get their hands on you.

While playing the long game, Sylus keeps a watchful eye on you. He sends out his crow, watching you from miles away while he remains in the Underworld.

He keeps track of your everyday movements so that way he can recognize your patterns and your habits so that by the time you come to him it's easy to capture you.

And of course, you come to him so easily. So willful and determined to set things right in the Underworld, it's so easy to capture you and isolate you in his home, so he thanks himself for playing the long game.

Once he has you captured in his home, he's tempted to take you right there, but no, he decides he needs to nurture you first. Your poor little head is brainwashed with thinking that he's the bad guy, so he needs to make you believe that he's the good guy.

So he feeds you and clothes you with the best meals and clothing money can buy. He tells you his side of the story and tells you that the reason why he's the leader of the Underworld is because he's trying to save it, so of course you believe him. I mean, how could you not when he treats you so well?

Of course, it's not a fast process to believe that he's the good guy. No, this occurs over several months. He keeps you locked away in his home (with the free will to explore, but only with his crow watching over you), away from Rafayel, Xavier and Zayne so that way no one influences you except for him.

Sylus is watching over them, too, because he knows how dangerous these men are in your life. He knows they've been too good of an influence on you, so he sends Wanderers their way now and then to distract them from keeping a narrow path on finding you.

But inside his home, he feeds you sob stories of his traumatizing past, making you feel sorry for him and that maybe he's not as bad as you originally thought. Maybe his intentions with the Protocores aren't so bad. Maybe him using the crow to watch over you was protective, and not stalkerish.

Although, this belief didn't start forming easily, because at first you were the brattiest thing Sylus had ever encountered. He expected this of course, because who in their right mind would accept being captured and isolated away from the world so willingly?

You never accepted his gifts, always throwing them away or shoving them deep into the closet in your room, never wanting to accept the fact that you've been captured by the lord of the Underworld.

You'd yell at him, sob, and wouldn't eat until you realized that no one was coming to save you, so you figured you'd save yourself by playing his little game until you could get out, but, Sylus was ahead of you.

He'd figure you'd want to save yourself and disguise your acts of accepting his gifts so you can later get away, but, that's when he figured you'd need more persuading, so, that's when he began to tell you his sob stories. His personal beliefs.

He was so manipulative too with his words, twisting them in a way so that you'd be on his side.

"But, you see, I take these Protocores to help people. To help people like yourself... like those Protocore pieces you have in your heart. I'm under the guise of a crime lord in the Underworld to help the people in need. It may sometimes require violence, yes, but... I figure it's the only way to cause some action."

"I'm keeping you here in my home to protect you. I'm keeping you safe away from the other people who want to harm me—to harm us. They want to take my Protocores for their own selfish uses, but we're using them to help other people, right?"

"Stalking you? With my crow? Please... I was merely concerned. I do that with every being who I've kept tabs on, with who I want to save. You're just another sweet soul who needs saving."

So, slowly, you begin to fall for Sylus, and when he sees you believe everything he says, he knows he has you in his grasp.

By the time you've fallen for him, you have it in your head that maybe he's right. Maybe you do need saving, and Zayne, Xavier, and Rafayel can't help you, but maybe this all-powerful being can certainly help you. So far, all three of them have had limitations to helping you, but, maybe Sylus won't have any... maybe he can truly help you out with finding out what's wrong with you.

And, in the meantime, maybe you can save Sylus, too. Maybe you can give him what he needs and fix him, saving him from his traumatic past.

[halfdeadsage]

the fact that logan got the upgrades only for the team to take them away because they apparently weren't working is so fucking frustrating. like ?? are you serious ?? how can the upgrades NOT BE WORKING ?? and they took them away so quickly , too , like maybe give him a chance to get acquainted to them ??? it's so fucking frustrating how shit logan's been getting treated recently .

i cannot defend this man any harder from the shit treatment he's been getting . like i am literally going to fucking war every day seeing people shit on him not realizing what is going on . and it's just getting worse and worse for him because williams won't even SAY they did that -- like i had to find out on twitter that logan told brazilian reporters about it . so of course the hate comments towards logan continue !!! and what does williams do ? JACK FUCKING SHIT IS WHAT . they're honestly destroying him and his mental health and i want to help him so badly but i can't nor do i know how to and it's making me want to rip my hair out .

it's also so crazy to me how people so easily hate on drivers , even if said driver is performing great . they downplay when he does do well saying it "isn't good enough" . he'll do amazing for an entire race but has a bad pit stop or locks up or something happens that messes things up for him and it's like the floodgates of hate comments open up . they can't see farther than what's up their ass because that's where their heads are shoved up . genuinely , how hard is it to just not comment about him . if you hate him , just ignore him !!! and show a little bit of compassion !! it's terrifying how easy it is for people to be hateful when they're hiding behind a screen . and i haven't seen williams do anything about it to defend him in any way , no matter how minuscule it is . it's so frustrating and my heart genuinely hurts for him .

logan sargeant you deserve better . i believe in you . i know you can do well if given the right chance instead of having it ripped away from you . i'm sorry .

hate comments towards logan will be removed because if you have the time to hate on him then you also have the time to do any of the following: research about him and his career especially concerning performance in f2 , f3 , etc. ; read the essays i wrote about logan a few posts ago ; research what is going on behind the scenes and what is being said to reporters about his situation in williams at the moment so that you understand why fans are upset about how he is being treated . and yes , he has been treated poorly recently even if his performance hasn't been the best . it's not difficult to be kind and keep scrolling if you read a post about a driver you are not a fan of !!

[dalishious]

Ramblings on "Eight Little Talons"

The Talons

One of the most interesting things about the Tevinter Nights story, “Eight Little Talons”, is how it portrays the relationship between all the different Talons.

The very first paragraph features Viago reflecting on how important decorum was, because he does not want to be shown up by the others. He then goes onto think about how unusual it is to have such a gathering of Talons, and that they will need to put aside their differences if they want to accomplish their goal of a united front against the Qunari invasion. The quote, “while all Talons were peers, the same could not be said about their resources and influence,” paints a picture of how even though they are all individually powerful, yes, there is still the ladder of supremacy based on First Talon to Eighth Talon. As such, they are all stuck playing a game against each other to keep or advance their positions on that ladder. Additionally, Dante refers to a competition that exists between the north and south of Antiva.

This is, ultimately, their downfall. It’s what Emil claims motivated him to take them out. He admires the noble origins of the Antivan Crows, and dislikes what they’ve become. He tells Teia, “Now, it’s all about family. Blood. Instead of a claw working as one, we fight over scraps. Eventually, we’ll all starve.” And in the end, he says, “It’s always money with all of us. That’s the problem. In the beginning, we were protectors. We fought for Antiva—for the people. Then somewhere along the way we chose profit over patriotism.”

Viago de Riva

I love how Viago proficiency with poison is both a blessing and a curse for him. On one hand, it makes him very good at his job. But on the other, he is profoundly paranoid about being poisoned himself. He has memorized how different ingredients react and can be hidden in different foods, and refuses to consume anything handed to him without either testing it first or preparing antidotes. He dresses to show the least amount of skin possible, and is anxious over any form of contact with another person. He takes a daily micro-dose of Adder’s Kiss to develop an immunity to it.

Another interesting thing about Viago, is how bitter he is about being a bastard son of the Antivan King. When Teia wonders about his past, she knows better than to actually ask him any questions. Viago was only given two choices in life because of the circumstances of his birth: either live in luxurious exile, or join the Crows. He resents all his half-siblings who chose the first, and he resents the king himself. Viago may be more powerful than them all, even the king, but he is now stuck in this life. Had he not been, he thinks he could been a better ruler of Antiva.

While Viago is certainly skilled – he firmly believes he could kill every Talon at the summit if he wanted to - it’s easy to infer that it was nepotism that earned his rank, or at least that’s the reputation he has, based on the comment from Dante: “Your daddy will protect you”.

Viago sees himself as a recluse. Teia says his reputation is that of a curmudgeon, and in her defence, he himself says he doesn’t care about being liked, he just wants to be respected and feared. I think the fact that he was raised in a “gilded cage” with a mother whom he remembers only for her wine-stained teeth had a lot of influence on this. He’s been alone all his life.

Andarateia “Teia” Cantori

Just like Viago, Teia has an unconventional speciality as well. While Viago observes that she weaponized her beauty, I would propose that Teia’s real mastery is manipulation. Using her beauty is certainly part of that, but in examining the way she responds to each and every character differently shows that she is playing a far subtler game. She shoehorns Viago into riding with her in a gondola, so that the others will gossip about how their houses must be in an alliance – the goal being to give them more power in the discussions. She calls Caterina “Nonna”, which Caterina points out that not even her actual grandchildren do, as a way of disarming the First Talon. And when she interrogates Dante, yes the serum he’s under helps, but it’s her cunning persuasiveness that does the leg work.

Viago remarks that at twenty-eight years old, Teia is the youngest Talon in history. Perhaps this is a contributing factor to why she has a different perspective than the others, when it comes to her dislike of “the bottom line” – the obsession with making coin for their kills. She also has her own set of rules the others do not follow; for example, she refuses to kill servants unless absolutely necessary. And she displays the ability to sympathize with people in a way that the other Talons do not. So you could call it naivety, sure. But I believe it’s more to do with just the type of person she is. We know from Zevran how the Crows work hard to burn out everything except murder in their recruits, but the fact that Teia holds onto her compassion speaks of how strong it is.

It’s also worth mentioning that Teia had to accomplish a hell of a lot to get where she is. “An elf born in an alley with no family or connections, Teia and her rise to power had caused quite the controversy. The Antivan Crows always told new recruits that anyone could become a Talon, but it rarely happened.” She tells Viago that she does not let where she comes from define her, nor is she ashamed of who she is. I love that. I love how unapologetic Teia is about herself.

[melloollem]

Loyal To The Blood|| Damian Wayne × Male reader

Summary: You were created as a servant of the League to protect Damian. Your bond is severed after Damian takes over as Robin. On a disastrous mission, you are forced to deal with the emotional conflicts that the loss of the boy has had and deal with the fact that he now stands before you after years. 

Warnings: Angst, Homosexual angst, Abandonment, Comfort, Recommendation: Once More to see you-Mitski

(Dc masterlist)

In an honorable oath in your childhood, you knelt before the one you recognized as God and pledged allegiance to the future Heir of the League of Assassins. You would die and kill for Damian, for the heir to the League of Assassins empire.

Faced with all the current circumstances, that seemed like a lie, but it wasn't, you and Damian knew that. Damian knew that over your oath, childish though it was, there was a veil of love.

There was only one problem, in your oath you swore to be true to Damian Al Ghul, not Damian Wayne, you would protect and serve the future leader of the League of Assassins, not Robin and it hurt to admit that no amount of love you felt for Damian could detract from your eternal bond with the League, your responsibility, your ideals, your upbringing, you could be true to Damian's blood as you promised to do, but only if he was with the League and he wasn't, not anymore.

The last time you saw each other was before Damian left. You looked at him in an anguished way, but you still tried to look serious and indifferent, like everyone else in that room, but Damian knew you, he identified the pain in your eyes, because he had spent nights staring at them.

That night you stretched out your hand towards Damian with the sole intention of fixing your armor, you were one of the few in the room authorized to approach him, and when your hand was already moving away, Damian grabbed your forearm and promised to come back, he would have liked to say "come back to you", but there were too many people present for that kind of interaction, you didn't answer him, just looked him in the eye quickly. Damian would like to know what you meant by that. Damian would have liked to know that it would be the last time in a long time.

You never believed that the boy would come back, not when he had the world in store for him, not when you knew of his eternal admiration for his father, not when Talia explained the reason for his departure. He wouldn't come back, your love wasn't strong enough to overcome Damian's reasons for staying out of the League, but it was strong enough for him to regularly think of you, for you to regularly think of him, but not for him to come back.

You both lived your lives in parallel, while Damian learned not to kill, you perfected your techniques, while Damian opened up to his new reality, you closed yourself off to survive yours, while Damian received his Robin title, you took over his old position in the League, you were on opposite sides every time.

You were sure that Damian had forgotten you, but you never could, not when you were carrying his position in the League. You felt it as a curse, as if you were cursed to never forget Damian, not when you looked at his armor and saw one similar to his old armor, not when you commanded the men he commanded, not when Talia looked at you remembering how he looked at you with the same green eyes, not when you still lived for him. You were cursed for loving Damian.

Your work in the League had never been easy, there was no way that murdering people and conquering territories could be, but lately they had been made more difficult by a vigilante, the whole thing was being extremely stressful for the League and for you, headquarters being knocked down, assassins hunted, it was all falling on you, the responsibility of sorting it out, sorting it all out, the constant demands of your superiors, along with your responsibility to your soldiers.

The vigilante taking your peace was Red Robin, you knew Ra's Al Ghul wanted to recruit him, he had proven his competence while taking down men from the League, but you weren't willing to negotiate with someone who had done so much destruction to your legacy. When the execution order arrived, you felt relieved, you knew that he had taken out the patience of the head of the League and now you could kill him.

You'd been sent to Gotham City, this wasn't going to be as quick a mission as you'd have liked, apparently the vigilante had enough training to require prior preparation before the attack, you knew you had to attack him in public, when he wasn't hiding his identity, that would reduce your chance of reaction and defense.

You were dispelling all your fears, this was Batman's city, which meant it was Damian's city. You were aware of Tim and Damian's connection, at that moment there were few things you didn't know about Tim, but that didn't matter, at least that's what you repeated to yourself. According to your superiors, you wouldn't even have to find Damian, the orders were clear to avoid members of Tim's family.

You were standing in front of Wayne Industries, an eye-catching building surrounded by people, the perfect setting. You weren't wearing anything to hide your identity, in the League it wasn't necessary. You waited patiently, it wasn't long before the vigilante left the building, you held the dagger firmly in your hands at your side, so as not to attract undue attention, letting out a shaky sigh, death never stopped scaring you, it's always like the first time, no matter how much skill you acquire.

When Tim left Wayne Industries, you started to take your first steps towards him, but your body froze as you met emerald eyes right behind him, Damian was here, your breathing stopped and the grip on the melee weapon loosened, you still tried to take another step forward, but your body threw itself back following what you really wanted to do, despair flooded your chest and that mission already seemed to have failed. You moved away, trying to blend into the crowd so as not to be spotted, hoping he hadn't seen you, but you knew he had, that was Damian.

It was impossible for Damian not to recognize you, you looked different, but the same. Even in a crowd of thousands of people, he would still find you. He watched your desperate escape and didn't move, the boy stood still, absorbed by your presence and the doubt, what were you doing here? Tim noticed his brother's delay after a few steps, calling his name without reply "Damian, we have to go, now" Tim was too tired to look what Damian was looking at and too late to care, he sighed impatiently and then Damian's attention returned, he was frowning in confusion as he looked at the ground in front of him. Tim was about to give up on Damian when the boy stepped in front of him and into the car. "Let's go, Drake," the older man squeaked, but decided not to fight it and got into the car.

That very day, you left Gotham, you would find another way to kill Tim, but it couldn't be there, not with Damian there. You returned to the League, you didn't explain anything to your superiors and you didn't even notify them of your arrival. Days passed after the meeting, you tried to deafen Damian from your thoughts, but it was impossible. The boy's ghost plagued every part of your mind. You had locked yourself in your room for days, asking your servants for privacy and discretion. You needed to be alone.

You didn't believe that Damian would follow you between continents, not even when you saw him standing at the foot of your bed did you believe it, believing that it was your mind playing tricks on you, perhaps your thoughts of him had become so frequent that they were hallucinations, but it wasn't, he really was there. You sat on the bed, staring at him. Your servants had disrespected the order to leave you alone by letting him in. You had forgotten that his power over the League superseded yours, even after years of being away.

You weren't sure what to do, your face was serious, trying not to let any emotion show, your eyes examined every part of Damian. His eyes were fixed on your face. Damian was looking for the differences that the years had brought you, even though he knew they were all over your body, new scars, new face, new hair style. He was trying to capture your new features, everything of you that he had lost. He found some kind of comfort in realizing that your eyes remained the same, still unable to hide any emotion.

"You need to improve your vigilance." It didn't surprise you that the first word he spoke to you was a scolding, just like when you were children, back then, that was his way of caring for you. "I will" was all you managed to say in the presence of the situation "I know", after which you stood in silence for a few minutes while you looked at each other, and on a quick impulse you got up from the bed, turning your back on Damian. You knew that, at that moment, he was looking at the many scars on your back.

You looked around your room for a shirt and then turned to him. "What are you doing here?" Damian didn't know exactly what to say, he wasn't even sure why he had come to see you, it just seemed right. Perhaps this was an attempt to fulfill the promise he had made, but it seemed too late for that to be the reason.

"Heir Al Ghul," you said after noticing the delay in the boy's response. Damian narrowed his eyes at the new way you addressed him, you didn't call him that, not when it was just the two of you, that was the way the League's servants called him, not you, you were allowed to call him Damian or whatever you wanted, all those years apart made you believe that was it for him, a servant of the League?

"I'm not the Al Ghul heir" he chose not to mention your new behavior "Then why do you dress like one?" You were quick to answer, since he was wearing armor like yours. The emerald eyes widened, he wasn't an assassin, not anymore.

"I'm not part of the League" The statement was capable of infuriating you, not for the intended reasons, but because that was supposed to be you, you wanted to leave the League, not Damian. You were only fighting that war because Damian wasn't there to fight it.

"Should I warn the men outside this room of that fact?" Your voice sounded cold and distant and at that moment it was the first time Damian wasn't able to recognize you. He wondered how much of that boy standing in front of him was the one he knew, he was still the same one he loved, he still seemed wrong, but now for other reasons, maybe because you were a murderer, maybe because your integrity was tarnished, maybe because Damian had abandoned you.

"I just wanted to see you," he admitted softly. The lack of arrogance in his voice surprised you, but his greatness still made you feel small, still wanted to make you fight, wanted to make you question "why did you leave me?" "Why did I have to take on all your responsibilities?" "Why did you come back?".

"Are you happy?" It was the question you chose to ask him, because in a promise you had made to him, one you didn't even remember, made in a hidden room at the League, away from all the harsh and judgmental eyes, while Damian cried on your shoulder (a rare occurrence, but one that you, only you could contemplate) you promised Damian that he would find happiness and you hope he has.

"A lot of the time," was his quick reply. "I wish you could enjoy these moments with me." When those words came out of Wayne's mouth, it was as if he had found you in those eyes and stopped looking for his former beloved.

You would have liked to say something out loud, but your childishness still resonated louder, even after so many changes your feelings still had to cling to his sincere gaze that would never lie when he said he loved Damian and despite the fear that the hatred outlined in your scars and war marks would hide that feeling from Damian, you hoped that his sharp gaze would still capture you.

Your love was always implicit, having to survive in the small gaps that the world had left you, no touches or declarations, what you were left with was excessive protection and glances. You wonder how children like you, raised in the midst of so much hatred and war, learned to love each other and now, even on opposite sides, you still loved Damian.

"Would you come with me?"

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿

This is a very long fanfiction (2,178 words / 11,833 characters) that took a lot of dedication and love from me, I hope that someone likes it as much as I do, thank you for reading it.

[iwannascreameurekaa]

I don't understand how any of the seven get so much hate. They all have amazing characteristics, designs, personalities, backgrounds, etc. 

so I'm gonna explain why they're all amazing

Yay

Percy

Percy is the main character to the first five books so he has the most information shown about him than the seven since we read from his point of view in pjo and the Olympians. His whole thing of loyalty is incredible and the things he risked to save people he barely knew made him an amazing protagonist. 

Annabeth

Hello??? I know she's smart but that's not her only characteristic. She's blinded by her own powers and doesn't know how to handle things thrown at her when she can only rely on her emotions which is amazing cause ME TOO GIRLY she's a badass who also went through so much during HOO 

Leo

Built a whole ass ship, was manipulated and controlled into KILLING HIS OWN MOTHER OMGS MY HEART, was always singled out and felt like he didn't belong, SACRIFICED HIMSELF FOR HIS FRIENDS, and so much more!!!

Jason

This is where ima start defending for my life bc people who say Jason is boring don't understand his story. He was taken from his home, raised by wolves until he was around 2/3, raised the rest of his life until his was 16 in a camp where he was trained to be an actual child soldier, kidnapped and had his memory erased, watched his best friend DIE, and died for his other best friend !!! WHAT MORE DO YOU PEOPLE WANT????? OFC HES GOING TO BE BORING HE DIDNT KNOW WHO HE WAS OR WHAT HE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE

Piper

I will hold you by the shoulders and stare directly into your soul until you give me a good reason to hate Piper bc she did nothing wrong. She just wanted her father's love and she never got it so what happened? She was sent or a wilderness camp where she was also manipulated into believing a random boy was her bf which entirely messed her up and it took her MONTHS ALMOST A YEAR to realize that she didn't have the feelings she was lead to believe. THEN SHE SAW HER EX HER BSF DIE IN FRONT OF HER????? I WOULD BE RUINED AFTER THAT OMGS 

Hazel

Excuse me, didn't she DIE in the 1940s to prevent the world from ending, came back, only to have to save the world AGAIN??? Not to mention that fact that she was bullied and harassed all her life before and after her death. Before her death she was always treated like the devil bc of her curse, even by her own mother. Her mom even neglected Hazel which is something NO ONE SEEMS TO TALK ABOUT. Then she has an unknown brother save her from the underworld and have to completely rebuild her life from scratch. At new rome she still wasn't treated right and was left out and made out to be a weird girl just like her old life. Tbh if that was me I wouldn't be shaking crying every time I saw someone. Also she learned how to control the mist which is pretty fricking cool okay I love her 

Frank

Let's just point out the obvious first. The reason Frank is not one of the most loved characters is because he is/was chubby. I'll say it, that is the reason. If he was skinny/fit more people would love him. That's probably why Rick did the transformation thingy thing where Frank got all buff. Which sucks because Frank is incredible and having one of the only character that's not skinny or muscly or as conventionally attractive have to change to those things just to be slightly more popular is STUPID!!!! I'm not hating on Rick I'm honestly hating on the fans who didn't love Frank because of the fact that he was chubby, whether they knew that was the reason they didn't like him as much as the other seven or not. His story is incredible. His mom going to war and her dying made my heart break while reading. his entire life force being attached to a piece of wood, so easy to be burned to nothingness, is SO GOOD. His awkwardness is so refreshing to see when characters are often portrayed as nonchalant and cool when in reality we're all losers 😭 

Really, there's no real reasons to hate any of the seven. You can have favorites, I have my favorites of course, but putting the other seven down doesn't do anything. You're just an asshole. 

[toriluvsnickwayne]

Worth it

Hook x (Shibata’s sister) Reader

Y/N's POV

I was beyond excited to be attending my first AEW show. As a huge wrestling fan, I had always dreamed of seeing my favorite wrestlers in action live. And now, thanks to my brother Katsuyori Shibata, I had the opportunity to experience it all backstage.

As I explored the area, I stumbled upon a familiar face - Hook. He was preparing for his match, his intense focus evident on his face. I watched him for a moment, admiring his dedication to his craft. Then, he looked up and caught my eye. I felt a flush rise to my cheeks as he smiled and approached me.

"Hey, you must be new around here," he said, his charming smile putting me at ease. "I'm Hook."

"I'm Y/N," I replied, trying to sound calm. "Nice to meet you, Hook. I'm a huge fan of your work."

We struck up a conversation, bonding over our shared passion for wrestling. As we chatted, I found myself drawn to Hook's charming personality and sense of humor. We exchanged phone numbers, and our conversation continued via text as we went about our evening.

I couldn't believe how easy it was to talk to him. We discussed everything from our favorite wrestlers to our favorite TV shows. I felt like I'd known him for years. He even said I could call him Tyler.

Hook's POV

I was getting ready for my match when I met Y/N backstage. She was smart, funny, and had a passion for wrestling that rivaled mine. We hit it off immediately.

As we texted each other throughout the night, I found myself grinning like a fool. I couldn't wait to see her again.

But then, Shibata approached me with a knowing glint in his eye. "Who's got you so distracted, Hook?" he asked.

I replied, "Just a new friend I met, Y/N."

Shibata's expression turned serious. "Y/N, you say? That's my little sister!"

My eyes widened in surprise. "I had no idea! I swear!"

Shibata chuckled. "Well, Hook, if you want to take my sister out on a date, you'll have to prove yourself worthy."

I nodded, ready to accept whatever challenge came my way.

"Alright, Hook," Shibata said with a smirk. "I dare you to sing 'I Will Survive' in front of the entire locker room... in a tutu. Matter of fact make it a pink one.”

My face turned bright red. "Deal."

With that I took a deep breath, I donned a bright pink tutu and belted out the disco classic. The locker room erupted in cheers and laughter, and Shibata grinned in approval.

“I can’t believe you just did that.” I heard Orange say.

"You've passed the test, Hook. Take my sister out on a date, and make it a night to remember! Just remember, if you hurt her I’ll come find you……have fun!”

Time skip

Hook's POV

"Hey, Y/N?" I said, turning to her with a grin. "I have to tell you something."

"What is it?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"Your brother made me do a dare to prove myself worthy of taking you out on a date," I admitted.

Her eyes widened in surprise. "What did he make you do?"

I took a deep breath and confessed, "He made me sing 'I Will Survive' in a tutu in front of the entire locker room."

Y/N burst out laughing, her eyes shining with mirth. "Oh my god, that's amazing!"

I chuckled, feeling a bit more at ease. "Yeah, it was pretty ridiculous. But it was worth it, just to see you smile like that."

Y/N's expression turned thoughtful, and she asked, "Was it really worth it, though? The embarrassment and all?"

I looked into her eyes, my heart beating faster. "It was worth every second of embarrassment, because I got to spend time with you. And that, Y/N, is truly worth it."

Y/N's face lit up with a radiant smile, and she leaned in close. "I think it's worth it too, Tyler."

@moniquelovesaewhook requested this and I hope filled ur request. I rlly enjoyed writing this story and I knew I had to put a funny bit in there. I do think I’m going to start writing for other people perhaps prlly start out with Nick Wayne(🤭) and I’ve got a whole list of people who I write for (it’s on my main Masterlist) if u have and request just send them my way- lots of love Tori🤍

[donnerpartyofone]

Hello, Sqwincher Zero and I are here to tell you to take this heat wave seriously. I had never heard of Sqwincher Zero before I took this picture with the intention of making fun of its name, but I sure wished I had some later that night. I will not invite you to scrutinize the series of bad decisions that I made yesterday leading up to a serious and avoidable medical emergency, but suffice it to say that none of these decisions were extreme or unusual for a fun grownup weekend. If anything I dialed it back a little, consciously, and I believed I was drinking plenty of water. It wasn't enough. I was feeling fine until I suddenly wasn't. My awareness of being Severely Dehydrated came on very quickly and then the next few hours were a scary nightmare. I am OK this morning and reviewing certain life choices and also our state of emergency preparedness.

I'm an extremely fortunate person. I have access to clean water, good food, and an amazing person who I tricked into marrying me, so someone is there to help me when I can't help myself. I am also in reasonably good health--which perhaps helped lull me into a false sense of security, especially at an age when my health is inevitably, normally changing, but I just haven't been paying that much attention to it.

Last night when things suddenly became very dark, I was struck with the intense and undeniable awareness that I needed emergency intervention. Like I should have called 911. I knew it for a fact. I have never experienced such a thing before. I could not get past the mental block of admitting that I was having an unprecedented physical crisis. Telling my husband to call 911 just seemed too radical. But I thought about it for hours. I even had a whole fantasy like, OK if my husband called 911 what would they ask him? What would they tell him to do? Instead of acting on this I just gave him little instructions one at a time. Let's draw a cold bath, let's move the fan, let's get a bucket, let's get a couple bottles of water, refill them now please. I was thinking very clearly, I was thinking about my temperature, I was monitoring my water intake versus how often I got sick. The one respect in which I was being irrational (besides my series of careless decisions during the day) was that I could not admit that I needed a doctor.

It's really easy to say things like "Don't be a tough guy, take care of yourself," as if the problem is strictly attitudinal. But switching gears into (for lack of a better term) self-care can be extremely psychologically complex. Being macho or too proud is one thing. Being habitually, neurotically afraid to frighten or inconvenience other people, or ashamed of drawing attention to yourself, is another thing. Being self-destructive and passively suicidal is yet another thing, with deep and insidious roots that can affect more things about your behavior than you even know. And finally, acknowledging that you are experiencing the paradigm shift of a Real Emergency, which might require scary and expensive and unpredictable new activities to get you out of it, is a whole other thing entirely. This is going to sound like an exaggerated reference point but whenever a serial killer is caught and people start saying that the spouse "must have known", they're not factoring in how hard it is to accept that your whole reality is changing and everything is very serious now. Even if the evidence was glaring, it would be a lot to process. There's even a thing in the book Interview With the Vampire as I recall, where somebody says it has been no big deal for vampires to hide their existence through the ages because humans will do extreme mental gymnastics to convince themselves that everything is normal. This all is more or less what was happening with me while I was refusing to call 911. I mean I knew that I should, I just couldn't make the leap.

I should say that my poor husband had no idea how bad it was. To him it just seemed like I'd had a little too much fun, and he was being patient and attentive. None of this is on him, I didn't explain things until I was out of the woods. One thing I feel bad about, that I rarely think about even though it's majorly true, is that not taking care of yourself can frequently, inevitably become someone else's problem. It cannot always stay private and contained forever; if you are incapacitated somehow, you will become someone else's chore.

I want to repeat that I didn't do anything that a normal adult wouldn't do on a Friday night. None of my actions were that extreme in and of themselves; I didn't even have alcohol in my system anymore by the time this struck. But I was not factoring in the weather, or my age, or anything like that that would have been important. We don't have an air conditioner at the moment because we have been luxuriating in our new well-ventilated apartment and enjoying the fact that we can survive with just box fans. I radically underestimated the potential consequences of just toughing it out and going about my business. I need to think more carefully about such things, and mentally reorient myself on preparing for emergencies instead of just reacting "if anything comes up". And I should also supplement our first aid supplies with something that isn't just for cuts and colds. I'm lucky I had cold, clean water, but at some point I really needed electrolytes and vitamins, and there was just nothing to be done for it late at night. I have a lot more thinking to do on this general topic, but it's time for me to get up and drink more water. And maybe go buy some Sqwincher Zero.

[williamaltman]

I'm gonna talk more about the episode later (including some positive stuff) but, right now I just want to say I'm really disappointed that apparently there's really not gonna be any retcon/reveal/whatever that Lestat actually wanted to make Claudia/was happy with the idea of having her as a daughter when Louis came with her.

I mean, on this episode they brought a version where Lestat was *even more* against the idea and is completely miserable about it, and, it does seem to be fake for the purposes of the trial, but... Louis then says it's actually closer to the truth?

And even if he's wrong, if this is not supposed to be believed like it seems at first glance (tbh I don't think he even meant that the whole thing was right, more just that Lestat told him it was wrong to turn a child), then this is already meant as the different "wronger" version meant to highlight the previous version as more real. Either way the difference is Lestat being annoyed and mildly reluctant vs Lestat being passionately against it and miserable when having to do it, which is like, a lose lose situation.

What I wanted from the beginning was to see a version where, at the very least, Lestat is happy with the idea when he realizes Louis means for her to be their daughter. Like I've said before, this is very easy to do. All you need to do is have him smile and appear excited or pleased when he says "...a daughter" and goes on to do it. Which is still not even close to the book version where he's the one to come up with the whole idea in the first place, but it would be at least one step closer and overall frame their (Lestat and Claudia) relationship in a more positive light from the beginning.

I'm happy with the crumbs we got on the trial, really, but it's not enough to me if besides reaffirming the narrative of her turning they're (possibly) going even further into Lestat being against it.

I know what people are gonna say, that in season 3 it's gonna be revisited again, with Lestat's reeaal perspective, but I really don't think so. This seems to be the revisiting already. I think it'd be kinda ridiculous to have a third version of the scene, and even if there is, that's not to say it's necessarily gonna be something more akin to what I think it should.

With the fact that they already showed more of the "fight" too, including making Lestat more sympathetic (which is clearly not fake considering the fact that LESTAT LITERALLY WENT OFF SCRIPT to express his guilt over it, how wrong he knows it was and to not let Santiago dismiss it), I think this means that the writers are more intent on their version of things than some people imagine when the idea of revisiting things and showing other POVs comes up.

I know that we most likely will learn of more things Armand might have changed in Louis' memories, but, this one at least is clearly not gonna be one of them. Armand's mind edits would be more focused on Lestat as a lover than something like Claudia's creation, and if anything I think he would be more likely to alter things to make Lestat more willing to break the rules rather than less.

I'm sure we'll hear about how much Lestat loved her, how devastated he was over her death and how he saw himself in her (especially since we already got a bit of that on the trial), but I think her turning is always gonna be "Lestat doesn't want to break the rules or ~have a third~ in his relationship Louis" which imo is such a misrepresentation of him and his dynamic with Claudia. The fact that even after Marius' warnings he didn't give a fuck? That's Lestat. It seems like if anything the writers want to make him *less bad* by not doing that (which is weird considering some of their choices in the opposite direction), by having him being somewhat responsible for a moment, but him not caring because he wanted her so bad and still not regretting it even after everything is so much more important.

Even if they do the "And I cannot say even now that I regret Claudia" it's not gonna ring true to me, because even if he misses her there's not much to regret in the first place when the responsability is like 90% on Louis in the show canon...

This is all water under the bridge in a way since it's mostly just how I've felt since 1x04, but, you know, with the idea of revisiting things and showing different versions I ended up getting some hope of it being changed and now it hasn't. Maybe there's really a third version and this will age like milk, but right now I don't think so.

[stranded-labyrinth]

honestly i applaud Will's ability to have enough spite to stick around because if i had a severely limited amount of friends as it was and one of them made me and everyone else think i was going insane and all of the others had basically just been waiting for me to go insane? like they were tiptoeing around me and expecting it? AND i lost my job even after being acquitted? i'm either moving to the middle of nowhere or i'm dying

[kicktwine]

oh so alisaie’s exaggerated bully behavior is 80% fanon. saying this she casually picks up a large rock

[lupins-hehim-pussy]

I wanna know ur Fontaine msq criticisms 👁️👁️👂I’m all ears

I'm not sure if you wanted me to talk about this secretly or publicly but! Here I go!

The TLDR: Fontaine MSQ aestheticised prison, poverty, child abuse, the justice system/court and didn't properly address any of it.

More:

Focalors/Furina has way too much of a sympathetic angle for a dictator who's lets people drown with her inaction.

Neuvillette feels Bad for sentencing some people to death/prison, but that's it. He's one of the most powerful people in Fontaine. If he felt like there are systemic injustices, I.E sending an abused Child to prison, he should be the first person to DO something about it, not just cry and be sad so the audience can be like aw, that's complex character writing isn't it? No it's not! And guilt doesn't absolve you!!!!!!! (These are stuff we deal with in OTCOJ read my fic now /j)

Meropide has children in it, both Sentenced there (Wriothesley) and BORN THERE (Lanoire), and this is just a quirk of the place. Not only that, Meropide accepts prisoners of all genders and crimes. There are abusers and abuse victims in one place. Do you know how bad that is? How much potential for crimes to happen in a place like that— oh wait, Meropide isn't under Fontaine's jurisdiction. If you are assaulted as an inmate it literally means nothing to the court.

Wriothesley had no qualifications when he took over. Depending on how long he lived on the streets, how old he was when he killed his parents, how old he was when he was first taken in by the orphanage, etc, the man might never have more than 4–5 years of formal education. Sigewinne probably had to teach him how to write reports. And do Meropide's spreadsheets. Edit because I forgot to elaborate on this one: This isn't a point brought up anywhere, which is bad, because when poverty and incarceration robs you of a proper education (and the rights to vote in many places too, too, by the way), it reduces your prospects for jobs, reduces many people's ability to get a home etc etc. Wriothesley was just, narratively, Given his position.

Meropide is an industrialized prison, and they portray this as a good thing. Prisoners are paid in coupons for their labour, and this is also portrayed as a good thing.

The One-Meal-A-Day reform was something Paimon gushed about being so great of a perk, that people might want to go to jail for food (could be interesting and reflective of systemic poverty if MHY had brains, but they don't, so I was just Pissed because essentially all Paimon wanted to say was "Prison isn't so bad, but still don't go to prison guys! Prison labour is really hard!"). By the way, in most real-world prisons they are obligated to feed you three meals a day. Because that's how much food a human needs. MHY went with one meal just so they can say "if you want to eat more, you have to work." And then the welfare meal is a goddamn gacha. So imagine you're a starving child who's too weak to work in the fucking robot assembly line, and you wander up for your first meal in 24 hours, only to luck in with a shit one. I'd kill myself.

They wrote Wriothesley, who's a victim of the system, into a guy who's say shit like "I'm the Duke I can do whatever I want" for a cool moment where he choke-slams an inmate (I know he was a bad guy. But also, in copaganda when cops are violent/disregarding protocols, they are always only portrayed to do that against bad guys, so what does our critical thinking tells us about this one?) They wrote Wriothesley, who was an inmate of a prison so bad, so notorious that it is the literal boogeyman of Fontaine, that has a legal (???) fighting pit, with an administrator who abuses his position to be unreasonable, to willingly stay in the place and become an Administrator who would choke-slam an inmate while saying a cool line about how he has the power to do whatever he wants. They wrote him, the guy who had to be fed on the streets by melusines, to think one-meal-a-day was a good enough reform (while he spends god-knows how much on his boat). This wasn't a victim-turns-into-abuser narrative either, they want all this to be seen as positive character growth.

And then, the final kicker is, they gloss over his entire abuse. You can only read about these shit in his profile, which most people don't because they don't Have Him or doesn't care to unlock it/read it online, and they jammed his entire backstory into a flaccid info-dump at the end of his character story quest. This man isn't Allowed to feel abused and neglected and show any reaction to it within the narrative of Fontaine itself, because if they actually Gave Weight to what happened to him, they'd have to confront THE FUCKING JUSTICE SYSTEM they had NO PLANS on criticising. I don't think they ever explicitly said the fucking Crime-Theatre nonsense was Bad either.

I could go on, but this is already so long. But yeah, I hope this gave you an idea.

[timeisacephalopod]

The type of Christian who asks atheists how they don't like, murder people on the reg are so funny to me because they seem to think their religion makes them the Peak of Morality when statements like "if you don't believe in God how comes you don't do X thing" all but outright state they have no idea why shit like murder and rape is bad except that God doesn't like it lmao. Like way to admit you have no intrinsic sense of morality and need to be afraid of a higher power to be a decent person, but I promise if you're not a piece of shit it's actually very natural not to want to do heinous evil shit all the time potential punishment from a higher power or not 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

[tariah23]

🗿

[bumblingbabooshka]

The sentence “Mark Johnson and T’Pel are here again, sir” becomes every Starfleet admiral’s worst nightmare.