...Q running in an election, which he was completely allowed to do, during which he played 100% by Wilbur's rules and won fairly according to said rules, means that getting abused by his boss was his own fault?
Yeah your views are definitely scuffed. You don't have to sympathize with a character you don't like but holy shit
Perhaps fault isn’t the right word. Just to clarify, I didn’t mean it was his fault for being abused, not saying anyone deserves that. So, I didn’t mean like he asked for it or like it is karma or comeuppance for running in the election. And by no means am I saying he was wrong to do so in the first place and whether or not he followed c!Wilbur’s rules is irrelevant. So perhaps comparing that with exile is unfair to c!Quackity, after all c!Tommy did provoke Dream and there’s not necessarily evidence for c!Quackity provoking c!Schlatt into that behavior. But at the end of the day, it is a result of his own actions. It is a consequence of his own actions whether or not it was intended or deserved. He chose to side with c!Schlatt so he could win even though it’s not like c!Schlatt was necessarily hiding his true colors, and he chose to stay. Did he know he was going to be abused, did he chose to be abused, did he deserve being abused. No. Of course not. But it happened because of the choices he made and he could’ve always made different choices to escape that. Actions just have consequences whether good or bad, you pay them or someone else does, whether intentional or not. - I forget an umbrella and I get wet and I get the floor wet and then someone slips on the wet floor and falls - I made a choice or perhaps a series of choices whether to put my umbrella by the door or make sure to dry my shoes off… etc. did I know that was going to happen? Did I intend for that? Did I or the person who fell deserve that? No, I made choices and those were the consequences that happened as a result so one could say it is my fault even if it’s not only my fault and even if it’s not like I intentionally meant for that to happen.
So obviously c!Quackity didn’t deserve to be abused, nor choose it, nor mean for it to happen, nor make it happen, nor is his hurt invalid. But c!Schlatt had a bad reputation to start off with, I mean one of the first things he does is betray c!Wilbur and c!Tommy in the first place. So all I’m saying is c!Quackity chose to ally himself with the devil and the devil lived up to his name.
(And I know I said you can call me cold, but that is kinda accusatory. c!Quackity isn’t a real person, these do not reflect my view irl, this is my view on a sadistic, manipulative, fictional character who lives in a world where people stab, kill, insult, harass for a fun afternoon.)
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To the anon that sent me the link in an ask about a certain profile and warning about a subject that has reared its ugly head once again on Tumblr...
I will say this only once...
I'm not getting into the big ole debate of the wills and ways of people and their choices in life.
People are people, your choice, your body, your mind.
Some have opinions others do not like, some have beliefs that they throw their soul into and some do not.
We are living in a multi-generational culture where some minds are stuck in their ways and yet some are more willing to accept others' choices on their body.
Ultimately, we're all human and we make mistakes. And sometimes we speak without consideration of the harm we cause.
However, I believe that we should strive to be an accepting community be it whump, art, writing, gaming, or whatever, even if we don't agree with someone else's choices we should respect them.
Rather than getting caught up in debates and sides, we should respect each other's decisions and paths.
Your choice is your own. Your body is your own.
There are some opinions that can cause harm, and it takes courage to go against societal norms.
But regardless of the path a person chooses, it's their choice and their right.
That's my opinion, and it will remain that way.
Regards 🍪
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GRAAHHHH THE ENDING OF MAGISTERIUM MAKES ME WANT TO CRY EVERY DAY. WHAT WERE CC AND HB THINKING
LITERALLY!!! I know not everyone shares this opinion, but I was personally fine with it up to books 3 and 4. Did the plot go a few weird directions like putting and breaking Call out of jail? Yeah, but the character exploration around Aaron's death was more important to me and made up for it
BUT BOOK 5??? I'm convinced zero thought went into it and it was all purely shock value. so many things with zero groundwork earlier in the series. so many things that directly undid important messages the series had been conveying. just a slapdash WOAH look how BIG and SCARY this conflict is! but don't worry! everything will work out perfect in the end <3 too perfect actually <3
I haven't done a lot of research, but tgt was published in 2018, which is the same year The Cruel Prince came out--so it's entirely possible magisterium was sidelined to make room for tcp. i don't know how much of the weight Black was carrying compared to Clare though, so I may be off
anyways. rage and hatred. worst series ending ever. it's not canon it doesn't exist it ended at book 4 actually 👍
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I Wasn't Expecting Pillows
a random OM! comfort piece
pairing: platonic siblings Asmodeus & my MC (Xhura) [he/him]
word count: 975
rating: general
notes: this is just a general 'my fic is my comfort' little snippet. today's been rough and it would be nice to feel like asmo would always be there for me~
some general notes: this is platonic asmo & my mc xhura, xhura is an mc who became a demon, he is married to lucifer, & asmodeus is dating a handsome athlete named zelphrem (oc demon)
none of this is really necessary to know but i can't not over-complicate the explanations
hope the short-&-sweet sillies make you smile like they did for me 💗
“I did a lot of crazy stuff back when I was human.”
“Oh Petal, I know~ You’ve regaled me more than a few times with stories of your… less-than-savory adventures.”
Xhura chuckles, tucking his hands under the impossibly fluffy pillow. How in the world has Asmo managed to hide this thing from Belphie for this long? Surely at some point or another the former youngest of the Lords of Hell has managed to ‘Goldie Locks’ his way through every pillow in the House. Xhura knows at the very least he’s rifled through some of Lucifer’s old throw pillows when his usual one is in the washer.
Hmm… Maybe it’s the perfume. That’s probably a decent Sloth-deterrent.
Or would it be a Cow-deterrent…?
“Petal? Hell to Petal~ Can you read me Petal?”
Xhura blinks several times, only to see Asmodeus staring down at him from right above. He’s smiling that usual ‘I’m here for you darling’ smile, but there’s a hint of something concerned behind his honeyed eyes. It doesn’t go away even when Xhura offers up a smile of his own.
“Sorry, spaced out there for a second.”
“Uh-huh…” Asmodeus doesn’t sound all too convinced. And given Xhura’s history with ‘spacing out’ being a whole lot more than just your everyday daydreaming, he has every right to feel even a smidgen of concern. “Promise that’s all it was?”
Xhura nods and reaches down for his brother’s hand, making a show of linking their pinky fingers together. “Pinky promise.” Their eternal promise — their brotherly bond. Something so simple but maybe it’s the simplicity of it that makes it mean so much. Anyone can make a pinky promise. But it’s those who keep them that truly bring meaning to sentiment.
Asmo huffs and falls back down on Xhura’s left side. He knows he’s basically lost all ability to voice his worries now. But he also knows Xhura wouldn’t swear on a pinky promise if he wasn’t absolutely certain.
“Then what were you thinking about?”
Xhura chuckles. “Belphie stealing your pillows.”
“Petal! Now why would you put such a horrible thing out into the universe like that?” Asmo reaches and grabs the first thing he touches; another throw pillow, albeit smaller, in the shape of a heart. Xhura vaguely remembers Asmo gushing about how Zelphrem won it for him at Devil’s Coast or something like that.
And… THWACK!
Xhura gets a carnival keepsake pillow to the face.
“You’re just asking for bad juju now!”
“Hey!” protests Xhura with a laugh, trying in vain to cover his face but when Asmo can’t hit him there he just goes for all the other soft squishy bits. “You can’t get mad at me! You asked!”
“Well I wouldn’t have if I’d known you were trying to turn me into an unknowing victim of Belphie’s sticky pillow-grubbing fingers!”
“How does that make any sense?!”
It doesn’t, and that’s why they’re both laughing so hard that breathing becomes more of a wheezing exercise. Not like either of them are out of shape — not by a long shot. They both get plenty of strenuous physical exercise thank you very much. But maybe because it’s been so long since they’ve laughed like this. Without a care in the world, all the things normally hanging over them and the family like a grey storm cloud abandoned for one moment of pure mirth and joy.
Thankfully for Xhura his brother stops before the pillow—which is a sentimental gift, as opposed to a gift of real quality—falls to clumps of stuffing and scraps of fabric under the slightest duress. Even if Asmodeus would have no one to blame but himself for it. Xhura would of course feel responsible for being the tangential reason a gift from Zel ended up needing replaced.
The pillow falls on the other side of the bed without a sound. For several long moments the only noise in Asmodeus’ bedroom is the combined effort of their labored breathing.
Xhura and Asmo wordlessly lace their fingers together in the scant space between them.
It’s not really a shocker that Asmo is the one to break their breathy concert. What is a shocker is what he decides to say to do it.
“I wasn’t expecting pillows. Since you started talking about your crazy wild human years… I wondered if maybe you were remembering something you wished you hadn’t.”
Slightly out of sync Xhura and Asmodeus turn to face each other with their elbows bent and their heads propped on their free palms. The perfect position for a deep and emotional staring contest. Asmodeus casually fiddles with Xhura’s wedding ring. Xhura taps his nail against Asmo’s new acrylic set.
Finally, Xhura sighs and looks down. The first to break eye contact. No doubt that worries Asmo more… Xhura loves winning staring contests.
“If that’s what you’re worried about, you don’t need to be,” says the youngest Lord of Hell quietly — so quiet even Asmodeus’ demonic ears require a little focus to catch it all. “I’m okay.”
“I’m sure you are, Petal,” because the fifth brother is all-too-familiar with recognizing his baby brother’s tells these days; like where ‘I’m okay’ doesn’t actually pertain to anything specific nor does it have to be about the topic he’s trying to bring up; “but you seemed like you came in here and wanted to talk about… something. So even if you’re okay, I need you to know I’m here for you however you need me to be.”
The barest hint of a smile quirks up at the corner of Xhura’s mouth. A good sign.
“Like you always are.”
“Exactly, like I always am~” Asmodeus grins, unlacing their fingers only as long as it takes to BOOP the tip of Xhura’s nose. Then it’s right back to platonic comfort-touch hand-holding.
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▴ — @sapientiiae
“I am not bathing here.” He replies instantly, glancing briefly over at her before looking away. “I don’t have clothes here, I don’t have another uniform, and too many people wander in and out of your rooms.” Granted, with knocking, but that doesn’t change what he’s saying. Besides, what good with bathing do when he’d have to put the same uniform back on and instead be wet and cold after? He plans fully on just waiting this out, or sticking Zelda with another guard and going to go get wood himself.
But she was different.
This was her home, she had plenty of clothes here and she had a warm bed she could crawl inside when she was done. The bath would warm her, the clothes would be changed and the bed could be buried with blankets that would warm her up. He was trying to get her into a better place, where she would be warm and comfortable, which started with a bath. She had enough things to add to the water too that it would be good for her skin. Though he would need to fetch the maids to help her. Regardless of the–shift in their relationship with each other, they hadn’t done much past–the confession.
He’s overly careful, and she’s overly watchful of his feelings. They agreed to not hold themselves back, and yet they were still very much doing that. He was putting a respectable distance between them, and she doesn’t seemed to know what she can or can’t do. But Zelda was the Princess, regardless of what he confessed, he wasn’t about to so freely initiate anything when it comes to her.
Especially if there was a chance of being caught.
“I’ll go fetch the maids so they can help you into the bathing chamber. And I’ll see if I can figure out what’s taking the guards so long.” He breathed out a soft sigh and pushed off from the wall, another shiving running along his spine.
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Been thinking about Cass again, and just their existence in general.
We get a handful of memories of them. One where they’re sitting beneath a data tree with a friend, another where they’re given a uniform by a program named Horii (which!! sidenote, but the implication that Cass wasn’t only imprisoned but confined with no clothing?? Unless I’m misinterpreting and this was just the first step in Horii trying to sneak Cass out. I also can’t help but worry that Horii was derezzed in the initial Repository explosion, and Cass just can’t remember), but other then that they’re an enigma even by ISO standards.
What’s their deal? Why keep them imprisoned instead of just derezzing them? Why do they, specifically, know that the Arq is failing? Was it a natural occurrence, or did someone place that info in their disk much like how Query gets it implanted into his at the end of the game? Does this mean Query could explode and lose all his memory, too?
When I tell you I’m clawing at the wall for more content regarding this specific iteration of Tron, I mean it with my whole heart and soul.
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