#aka what i just wrote

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

the fact that shakespeare was a playwright is sometimes so funny to me. just the concept of the "greatest writer of the English language" being a random 450-year-old entertainer, a 16th cent pop cultural sensation (thanks in large part to puns & dirty jokes & verbiage & a long-running appeal to commoners). and his work was made to be watched not read, but in the classroom teachers just hand us his scripts and say "that's literature"

just...imagine it's 2450 A.D. and English Lit students are regularly going into 100k debt writing postdoc theses on The Simpsons screenplays. the original animation hasn't even been preserved, it's literally just scripts and the occasional SDH subtitles.txt. they've been republished more times than the Bible

[marragurl]

Not the first to say it, but damn can’t believe Galladay really went from toxic yaoi to doomed tragic yaoi.

Alright fellow Galladay trash, where’s the modern AU fix-it fics?

I need to see Gallagher single dad with Misha plus their dog/cat Sleepie falling for entertainment company CEO Sunday. Don’t ask me how they met, fuck it, throw in bodyguard AU Gallagher who works part-time at a bar, boom there that’s how they meet, idk I’m making this up on 3 hours of sleep.

You’ve heard of slow burns, now get ready for Galladay blaze it.

They’re speedrunning the relationship from hate -> annoyance -> mild disgruntlement -> weirdly vibing -> ok wow never knew I needed that in my life -> Sunday is way too ok with spoiling Misha -> ok so we got married -> alright we’re dismantling the government now -> Sunday went to jail for 5 minutes for attempting “peaceful” world domination, don’t worry we (Gallagher) forgave him -> Sunday’s stepping down as CEO to run a coffeeshop idk look someone get him some therapy -> Robin is president now while she still goes on tours -> Misha won an engineering competition while this was all going on

Bottom line: Robin is out living her best life while Sunday is in the back somehow having the most insane week of his life. I have no other notes for her here except that she is happy, and successful, and is Sunday’s last remaining brain cell. She and Misha are having some fun Aunt/Nephew bonding times while Galladay are accidentally-on-purpose committing multiple war crimes.

No, we don’t have time to unpack 2.2 and all its trauma, we cope with modern AU :)

[airenyah]

why is it that "is okay good?" "okay is wonderful" are some of the most romantic lines of dialogue i've ever heard and why is it that these lines are said in a silly little harry potter musical from 2009 between none other than quirrel and fucking voldemort

[brutal-nemesis]

ok siiince you asked for requests for demon boy castys… the tongue cut out + gag seemed like such an adorable situation for him <33

Giving you that and a little extra because I wanted More Whump 💕

←Previous - Castys Masterlist

Ingredients: manhandling, a lot of unsexy noncon touching, slight dehumanization, partial nudity

Castys wasn’t sure if he slept at all that night, but after what felt like an eternity, Neteri reappeared wearing different clothes under her white coat.

“Good morning, Castys!” She sat on one of the stools from last night and motioned for him to do the same. “Get up, I’ve got wonderful news to share!” 

Castys opened his mouth to retort, but he found he couldn’t form the words. His tongue was still…he looked away, swallowing, and sat up while remaining on the floor. 

“You’re going to have to start listening to me, you know. Because,” she broke out into an excited smile, “I get to keep you!” Upon seeing Castys’s glare, she just laughed. “I figured you wouldn’t be excited, but trust me,” she held up a finger, “you’ll be much better off in my hands than if you were sold as a pet to some bored aristocrat. I’m sure they’d beat that personality right out of you, and I don’t plan on doing anything of the sort. As long as you cooperate with my experiments, you’re free to be yourself. You can even hate me as much as you like!” Castys raised an eyebrow at her final statement. He’d see about that.

After rummaging in her bag for a moment, she pulled out a little silver medal and moved to crouch next to him on the ground. “Hold still now,” she ordered as she started to bring it towards his neck. Castys wasn’t sure what was happening at first, but after a moment, it clicked, and he decided he’d rather not listen, leaning back. Neteri just sighed. “You’re not off to a very good start.” Well, it’s not like he wanted to be.

Suddenly, Neteri changed tactics, shoving him down on his back and straddling his waist before he could try to sit up, pinning his arms down with a knee on each elbow. Castys cried out, the wounds on his back from the whip lighting up in pain, and that combined with her full weight on him kept him from moving. He bared his teeth as her hand came closer, daring her to get within range, but she just curled her other hand in his hair, yanking it back and keeping his head firmly in place. Great. He was once again powerless against this tiny lady, forced to keep still as she attached that dumb little tag to the collar and sealed the metal shut with the same spell that kept him from taking it off.

“There,” she said once it was on. She tapped the tag, cold against his throat. “Property of Neteri Crozien. Whether you like it or not. Now,” she grabbed his chin, “are you going to let me put some new restraints on you or should I call the guards to manhandle you? Your resistance is pointless and only delaying the inevitable, exactly like every other time. Just nod if you’re going to cooperate.”

Did he want to get manhandled again? Not particularly. He’d had more than enough of being grabbed and held still while chains were taken off and put on. And it’s not like he was resisting out of pride or something stupid, he just fought back when it was something he really didn’t want to happen. Which was most things in the past couple days, but, hey, if new restraints meant he got to leave this boring-ass cell, he was okay with it. Her grip on his hair had loosened enough to allow him a small nod, so he gave one, praying she���d get the fuck off of him now.

Neteri smiled brightly at his cooperation. “Great! Although,” she got off of him and stood, thinking, “maybe just stay laying down. I don’t really trust you not to try and run at the moment, so just roll on your stomach and I’ll take the chains off.” Castys sighed in annoyance but complied, gritting his teeth as his weight went from his injured back to his burned chest. The cold stone floor felt a little good on it, at least, but it was a small consolation as he watched Neteri walk back over with a key and a coil of rope. 

She squatted down and-fuck, that was a knee on his back, not her full weight but enough to make him gasp in pain. Paying him no mind, Neteri unlocked the manacles around his wrists, and he could barely enjoy the feeling of not having anything around them for a moment, just wishing she’d tie him up and get the fuck off of his back. It didn’t feel like she was going particularly slow as she pulled his arms behind him and wound the rope around his wrists, but the seconds still dragged by at an agonizing pace. 

Finally, she finished tying the knot and took her knee off of his back as she stood. “There we go!” Castys just groaned, rolling on his side. “Oh, stop being so dramatic. It’s not like I was hurting you.” Castys’s glare deepened, and he awkwardly used his bound hands to pull up the back his shirt enough to expose the bandages wrapped around his torso. Neteri’s jaw dropped slightly, and she just stared at him for a second before worry took over her features.

“I…I’m so sorry I…I completely forgot. That you were hurt. I wouldn’t have done that if I remembered.” Her head hung slightly. “I’m really sorry, Castys.” Her apology seemed genuine, but how the fuck did she forget he got whipped and branded yesterday? She looked back at him again. “Let’s just hurry and get you to your new home so I can heal you up, okay?” Wait, new home? She was taking him somewhere else? At first the idea was scary, but then Castys remembered that he’d never particularly loved living in the castle, so whatever. It was probably just going to be a different prison cell, anyway.

With ridiculous difficulty and a lot of groaning in pain, he managed to sit up, using his elbows to help him do it since his hands were kind of useless. By the time that was done, Neteri was standing above him with…a chain? He was already tied up what the fu-no. No fucking way. He growled as her hands moved towards his neck, baring his teeth once more.

“Seriously, Castys? You said you weren’t a dog yesterday, but you sure are acting like one.” Yeah, sure, whatever, but since he couldn’t fucking talk, he was forced to resort to other means of protest. He honestly wasn’t entirely sure where the growling came from himself, and, yeah, it was a little animalistic, but that didn’t mean he deserved to get put on a leash. “This is happening either way, so just give it up already.” Her hand was moving closer, closer, the clasp at the end of the chain open, ready to-

Once again, instinct took over, and before he knew it, his teeth were buried in the flesh of her hand.

Neteri cried out, jerking her hand back and dropping the leash. “Lyte! Seriously?!” She winced as she dabbed the wounds with what smelled like the stingy liquid from yesterday and used her magic to close them up, during which Castys couldn’t help but smile smugly. Once she was done healing, she pulled on her leather gloves and grabbed a couple rolls of bandages from her bag. “I figured you were going to be difficult to keep in line, but this is just ridiculous.” Castys took pride in being ridiculous, so he’d take the compliment. What he didn’t want to take were the consequences of his actions, but he was a little bit helpless at the moment, so there wasn’t much he could do as Neteri shoved a wad of bandages in his mouth and tied a strip around his head to keep him from spitting it out.

“There. You’re just about the only person who’d need to be gagged when they can’t talk.” Castys just looked away, feeling his face grow hot as she clipped the leash to the collar. She gave it a tug, but he didn’t budge. Now he was just resisting out of spite. Neteri’s expression grew even more frustrated, and it looked like she was about to say something before she stopped herself and took a deep breath, calming herself down. She crouched down to look Castys in the eye.

“Look, I’ve been going about this the wrong way. I hurt you when I didn’t mean to, so I’m not going to punish you for biting me. We’ll just call it even.” She paused and held up a finger. “The gag stays until we reach our destination, though. Just for safety’s sake. But I’ll tell you something about my plans for you. If you come with me, you’ll have a tongue again by the end of tomorrow. Does that sound good?” 

Castys could be stupid and stubborn and petty and shake his head and sit here and then end up getting dragged off to wherever, or he could just suck it the fuck up and get the ability to complain back. Complaining would be nice...After weighing his options he nodded, and Neteri broke into a smile. “Good. Let’s go, then.” She helped him stand, and she seemed to do her best not to pull on the leash as they walked along. Soon enough, they had reached the teleportation stone, and Castys…he couldn’t help but be a little excited to leave this stupid place. He knew he was a fucking prisoner now, but he was basically a prisoner in his old life, too, minus the chains and plus a comfy bed. 

At least he was going somewhere else.

The other palace was pretty cool, at least, the short glimpses he got before he was pulled into the lower levels, down halls and through doors until they arrived at his lame little prison cell. It did have a bed, though, so that was an upgrade. And a private bathroom?! Why did the prison cells in his family’s dungeon have to suck so much ass? He only spent two nights there, but still. If he was ever in charge of a dungeon, he would make sure it was at least a little comfy in case he got thrown in there.

Neteri clamped a manacle around his ankle, which was whatever, because that meant she untied his wrists and took that stupid leash off. And then, true to her word, she healed his wounds. The brand scarred, of course, which was…the symbol was kind of cool, but since it meant he was “property” or whatever he wasn’t too excited about it being on his chest for the rest of his life. At least shirts existed.

After that was done, Neteri instructed him to clean himself off and left him alone for a bit. He wandered into the bathroom, chain clinking with every step, and paused in front of the mirror. He looked pretty much the same as always, just a little more tired and blood-covered than usual. Oh, and the stupid collar around his neck. Neteri was fucking delusional, it didn’t look the slightest bit “cute” on him, it just looked…He didn’t want to see it anymore.

Once he was clean and dressed in some slightly comfier clothes, Castys tried out his new bed. It was nowhere near as nice as his old one, but it was way better than the floor, so he’d take it. Just as he was drifting off to sleep, Neteri poked him in the face.

“I’m back, Castys, get up and take your shirt off.” Castys sat up, but didn’t take his shirt off, instead just crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. His wounds were healed, so what the hell did she need it off for? “Come on, I’m just going to examine you and take some measurements. Nothing painful, I promise.” Not painful, sure, but probably still not pleasant. Even so, he didn’t really have much choice but to listen, so he pulled off his shirt and stood, hoping this wouldn’t involve too much touching.

His hopes were in vain.

It started off fine, her measuring his height and a few other things with a strip of leather, but then she started running her hands all over him, poking at him, moving him this way and that. He couldn’t help but flinch every time since he hated being touched, and Neteri was clearly getting annoyed by it. His full-body recoil after she ran a hand down his spine was the final straw. Wordlessly, she clamped a manacle around one of his wrists before shoving him down onto the bed. He tried to stand back up, but she basically fucking tackled him, pinning him down on his back for the second time today. And, to top it all off, she managed to loop the chain around the top of the cot before cuffing his other wrist, leaving him pretty much helpless.

“I wouldn’t have to do this if you’d just kept still,” Neteri sighed, seeing his frustration. Well, it was a little fucking hard to be still when someone who’s basically a stranger is running their hands all over your bare skin. He considered trying to kick her, but she’d probably just chain him up more and keep going, and he’d rather this bullshit just be over with already.

Being chained down on his back somehow made this infinitely worse. There was nowhere to run, nothing he could do, Neteri looming over him as she put her hands all over him, touching his chest, his brand, squeezing his arms, grabbing his chin, pulling at his eyelids, gloves on now, hands in his mouth, poking at the stump of his tongue, feeling his teeth, gripping his hair to turn his head from side to side, his skin was crawling, crawling, his muscles tense, breaths coming short, fast, he just wanted her to get off stop touching him examining him taking notes reducing him down to just numbers just a body not a person not someone who got boundaries or personal space no just someone who gets touched and touched and touched-

“Castys! Hey, hey, just breathe.” Neteri was standing over him now, fiddling with the cuffs on his wrists, releasing him. Castys hadn’t even realized he was hyperventilating, but he tried his best to calm down as he scrambled to the other end of the bed, as far away from her as he could get. Neteri watched him sadly. “I…I was making you uncomfortable, wasn’t I? I’m sorry, I just thought you were trying to be a nuisance.” No shit he was fucking uncomfortable, how the hell did she misread that?! At least she looked upset by this, but it was way too late for that. Castys still felt like there were bugs crawling all over him, and he could feel his heart pounding out of his chest. 

Neteri reached out a hand in a misguided attempt to comfort him, but after seeing how Castys flinched and bared his teeth, she backed off. “Okay, okay, I’ll leave you alone. Well, I’ll go get you something to eat, and then I’ll leave you alone. Until tomorrow, and then you’ll have a tongue again and you can complain all you want and yell at me, okay?” Castys would rather never have to see her stupid face ever again, but that’s not how this was gonna work, so he just nodded silently, not relaxing until she’d left the room. 

He almost wanted to take a shower again, just to wash the feeling of her hands off, but it was starting to subside, so he just pulled his shirt back on and hid under the covers. What was that, exactly? He knew he didn’t like being touched, and he’d never let anyone do it remotely that much, so maybe being touched for so long in such an invasive way had been too overwhelming. Castys had thought he’d be a little tougher than this, since the thought of pain didn’t really scare him, but apparently being pinned down and touched was too much for him? Kind of…pathetic. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if he could talk, protest, fight back a little bit with his words. Maybe he’d be okay once he could talk again.

He just hoped Neteri wasn’t lying about giving him his tongue back.

Castys Cult: @as-a-matter-of-whump​ @blackrosesandwhump @fanmanga1357-blog​​ @thehopelessopus​ @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

@hearse-song​ @muddy-swamp-bitch @whumpasaurus101 @yet-another-heathen​​ @galaxywhump​ 

@starnight-whump​ @his-unspoken-words​ @misspelledwitch​ @suspicious-whumping-egg​ @pumpkin-spice-whump 

@painsandconfusion @i-can-even-burn-salad​​ @befuddled-calico-whump​ @whumpinggrounds​ @whump-queen​

@whumpedydump

[skitskatdacat63]

Prince Jenson of Somerset

+ process & lore

Yayyyyy omg finally have drawn portraits of the four main characters!!!! I'll show the process of Jenson's first and then them all four together. Though it's a shame the Seb/Fernando ones are older, I think it's hopefully obvious how much I've improved since November?

Look at him in all his handsome, princely glory 🥹 It's funny, I'm always happy with the second sketch and initial lineart, and then I start coloring it and I absolutely hate it, and it takes a significant amount of time into the painting for me to like it again. And then I reach a certain point and I'm in love with it again. Ugh though I gotta say, I love drawing the curls, it's just so 18th century, but at the same point, man I always will love my original lineart for the hair the best ah. Also yes I absolutely had to give him a big ass hat with feathers, he really is that kinda guy to me. I originally drew a bicorne and then realized that those don't really exist until basically almost a century later oops, so tricorne it is!!

Okay now omg look at them all together 🥹

Haha wow I have improved a lot! Just like the Seb/Fernando ones, Mark and Jense's were meant to be put together. I think there's a lot of inherent characterization in their poses that highlight the difference between them. Mark is looking up, very wistful, looking up to greater people, greater things. Jenson's head is tilted down, almost looking at the viewer, he is very satisfied with his role and revels in it, he's here to slay!

Okay, yes, lore, characterization, sorry that it is so far down on the post!!

Jense would probably be the fan favorite if this AU was an actual book or show or something. He's the guy you randomly find while browsing Wikipedia and you're like, woah this guy is so cool??? Unlike Sebmarknando, he doesn't really have the same level of angst, he's kinda just chilling. He's a bit harder to write a lore post about, because he's basically that character who is always magically around the corner, ready to witness some crazy thing and just breeze past it.

He is less linked to Seb than people like Mark and Fernando, because he's basically just his personal minister of transportation(read: horse fucker), so he avoids a lot of the relationship complications and drama, but that isn't to say he's completely uninvolved. He really likes Seb, and loves to hang around with him and serve him, but he's not as beholden to him. He's who everyone goes to air their grievances or to get away from the others, and he's very happy with this role. He's generally willing to play any side in an argument, but does tend to have a pretty big soft spot for Seb overall(Seb also gives him cuteness aggression, and he wants to bite him. Especially when Seb puffs himself up and acts super bratty when he gets offended at not being seen as a proper ruler.)

He's royalty from other kingdom, but pledged his loyalty to Seb's kingdom when he was quite young and has served him(his father first) ever since. He started off somewhat low in the military, rose to a pretty high rank, was a renowed war hero, and then ended up retiring pretty early to tend to Seb's horses. That's an oversimplification, but yeah. He liked the military life, was very good at it, but decided he had done enough, and wanted to be involved in more direct service, albeit more laid back. As I mentioned in Mark's post, Mark *really* doesn't understand his choice to do this, because if Mark had been in Jense's position, he can't ever imagine being able to let all that go and living the quiet life.

He is the palace whore, everyone has been with him honestly. It'll be like, some man walks into his bedroom, only to see Jenson in bed with his wife, but instead of being angry, he's like "wow you couldn't even wait for me??" He's just very carefree, and happy to just slut around and tend to Seb's horses.

I think he definitely still advises Seb, and would go to battle if truly need be, but generally seems to be living in a different world than the weird psychosexual homoerotic political drama that the others seem to be living in. But as I said, it's not like he doesn't contribute to it! He loves to goad Fernando, and constantly plays devil's advocate in "debates" between Fernando and Seb. He's also obviously the one that keep "accidentally" locking them in rooms and forgetting where the key is.

Sorry if this isn't very explanatory, I hope it gives a general idea to the type of character he is???? As always, let me know if you have any questions! I kinda struggled on what to write here because I'm finishing this at almost 8 am 😭 so I'm not sure if it's great or not. But basically you need to know: horse fucker who is generally breezy and carefree but also can be a bit of a menace to society every once in a while.

[justkillingthyme]

you okay? /gen

YEP.

sorry guys I did not in fact kick the bucket or smth

[chikoyama]

I love how most people’s initial reaction to Chiyori is like: Pfft, low threat, hence very low significance. Then, they just meander past her like the peasant that she is, possibly rolling their eyes as they brush past her. The girl never really did them anything, and maybe that was just about the issue here. She never really did anything.

[spaceyflowerswriting]

(I think you know when and where this setting is as you read)

💌 To Jonngun & Goo

Dear Jonggun & Goo

I have here is both of your bento boxs for your lunch! Also two thermos bottles that contain hot dark Coffee and hot Choco I know that both of you are gonna go hiking, I can't leave you both hungry and cold from the hike so I made a bento lunch!

I have guts feeling that your unable to go according your hiking plan but who cares! Since it autumn already its cold both of you need to be warm!

From your caring waifu y/n

P.s. Today bento is a Nori bento and desert is chestnut jelly cake, I also put a snack.

P.s. I think you would appreciate healthy cucumber and salad Gun! And Goo I put chestnut Dorayaki and don't tease Gun for not having sweets snack.

[You receive a very pretty envelope in the mail, alongside a box of something, only labeled, "GIFTS." You set it aside for the moment to open the letter and read...]

To my beloved, OUR beloved,

We hope you receive this letter in due time. And by said due time, the delicacies you have made for us have already been enjoyed. Thank you, they were really good. You were correct by the way, we went horribly offtrack our hiking path because Goo decided to be an idiot and run off. I would have left him stranded if I could.

Thank you for looking out for us, and for the personalized snacks. (Goo did make fun of me, by the way, please hit him in my honor when we come back.)

-Gun

Hi darling!! We're currently back in civilization after our hike and took the chance to rest at a hotel and reply to you! We appreciated the bento boxes you gave us, especially me ♡ Oh, and I also enjoyed the hot cocoa. It kept me warm during this awful trip with Gun! I wish you were here instead :(

Also Gun is a lying bitch, he lied to me about the path to take and then we ended up getting stranded. We made it out because of me though! ★

Lots of love,

Goo

P.S. The gifts are souvenirs from me ♡

[Opening the box reveals many little things to your liking, whether they be jewelry or some collectable.]

[randomnameless]

Glancing at something on Ao3 -

What kind of feelings Jerry was supposed to evoke, actually?

FE16 pushes the player - through Billy - to consider Jerry as a good parent, because it plays with the red herring about the evil lizard lady being evil.

And yet, even with all of his misgivings about his kid, Jerry is still the one who calls Flamey's bullshit and wonders if running away from GM wasn't the stupidest decision he ever made, just before kicking the bucket.

Being the cheap copy of the Ike'n'Greil relationship, Jerry's presence and death is supposed to be important to Billy - even in Tru Piss where they look pissed at seeing Emile and working with Uncle'n'pals.

And yet, unlike what we learn about Greil being the chadest amongst chads with 1 (one!) blackspot to his record, whenever you talk to characters about Jerry you're met with... less than rosy thoughts, even if the characters apparently handwave it away.

Let it be with Leonie, or even Alois, Billy learns that their dad wasn't the chadest of chads like Greil, but a drunkard (before Citrus' death, since Alois was a kid!) who apparently played dangerous games with people who idolised him, left his kid alone to be showered with praise by Leonie's village as he dealt with bandits, and left bar tabs all around the continent for his "apprentices" to pay.

Come the "journal" where, imo, we learn that dude was so afraid of his baby not being "normal" than he ran away from the odd lady who saved them "a long time" ago and who's pretty much not normal himself, and the place where his own wife, who displayed - partly - the same "abnormality" as their baby grew up and lived.

Then Nopes happened and did a number on poor Jerry - from mocking their kid's potential aspirations at being something else than a sword for hire, to their singing (done to cheer him up!) and actually learning he at times apparently let them go without food while he never invited them to the "thank you" parties throwns by the people his company saved...

Billy still loves their dad, but is he a good dad by any means?

With all that knowledge, after playing both FE16 and Nopes, can we really feel upset when Jerry kicks the bucket? For Billy maybe, because Jerry is important for them, but does it has the same echo as Greil's death, or even, to remain in Fodlan, Rodrigue's?

I guess if in Nopes, Jerry acted on his heel-face turn (or suddenly growing a brain) from his penultimate FE16 dialogue, we could have had a character growing beyond the red herring and the "unreliable narrator" stuff FE16's first part gave us, and maybe make for a more grounded-complete character, like confessing that he panicked after Citrus' death and worried for Billy, but regrets not being able to bring them the best life they dreamt of, and willing to apologise and let Billy grow in the same environment Citrus did.

Or maybe even explore what Jerry did in 300 years, if he never bothered to wonder why the fuck was he living to be as old as the elites, or his thoughts and feelings about Rhea periodically using hairdye to pretend to be someone else and "aging" even less than him...

Given how - or maybe i'm tainted by the fandom - FE16 thrived on the playerbase feeling characters/situation "relatable" from a doylist pov, I guess Jerry running away with bby!Billy because they weren't "normal" wasn't as weird as it sounds, babies should rightfully have a beating heart!

Bernie is a hikkikomori (forget the part where she's supposed to be the heir of one of the most important lands in Adrestia which would rightfully make her father disappointed with her (lbr, Greg would either have tried to get another kid with Bernie's mom, or got a second wife/bastard, or picked a branch member of his house to take his succession), Linhardt falls asleep and doesn't want to do his job as the next minister of Finances/whatever his dad does and prefers to hyperfocus on academic research ? How lol (please ignore the implications of House Hervring's heir being, uh, not interested in whatever his father does and how he is supposed to inherit his job (at least before Supreme Leader starts her war and pulls out her "reforms")).

Between the brackets are the first arguments that come to mind, if we consider the world those characters live in, aka Watsonian wise.

Jerry is worried about his baby's heart not beating and them not being normal? Jerry, you're not "normal" per Fodlan's standards yourself, you're over 300! Your wife had the same difficulties to emote than your kid and she might or not have had the same "heart not beating" syndrome given how it's her own heart that was transplanted in your kid

You know that what is "normal" for regular humans in Fodlan do not apply to you, your wife or your boss who oddly looks like your wife. So why was that argument even considered when you decided to run away and condemn your child to a life of "sword for hire" and danger at each day ending with a -y ?

IDK, it's as if, in BK, Kalas' bro, born without wings - which is an oddity since apparently everyone is born with some in this verse - finds Kalas weird for only having "one wing" and not two like everyone. It would be the pot calling the keetle back (but since BK is a game with coherent writing, this never happened).

Jerry runs away with the baby because the baby isn't normal despite the midwife assuring everyone they are?

Legit

300 yo Jerry runs away with the baby because the baby has the same condition as their mother despite the "immortal lady who saved his life" assuring him the baby is alright?

WTF

So, in the end, what are we supposed to think of Jerry?

Was he a character who made the best situation out of the shitty cards he was handed regarding their kid?

Or a character who swallowed an idiot plot ball to play with the doylist red herring, made errors but ultimately saw the light before being Clownya'd?

Or, given his supports and Nopes, a shitty character whose only redeeming point is to be Billy's dad, and who receives a lot of leeway by virtue of being Billy's dad by the writing team (given two fans) and the first game being from Billy's POV?

[undying-lilies]

a long-awaited sneak peak of the story concept I utterly failed to ignore

a.k.a. the Little Mermaid gets adopted by pirates who are hired to kidnap the prince she may or may not have saved :D

A knock sounded on the door. Captain Harlock’s eyes flitted over to the prince, but he said, “Come in.”

The door opened, and in walked a girl that was so stunning she looked like she belonged in a painting.

She wore the plainest clothing Lorcan had ever seen - a skirt that had clearly been fashioned out of an old sail and a beige blouse - but she wore them with the grace of a princess. Hands so pale and dainty they looked like alabaster held a tray and hair so glossy and black it looked like the depths of the sea was pulled back with a simple gray handkerchief. There was a choker with a single pearl attached to it around her neck.

On the tray was a hunk of bread with a knife sticking out of it, a pot of something that smelled like coffee, two crude mugs that had been fashioned out of scraps of metal, and a little bowl of sugar cubes. She breezed by the prince and set the tray on the desk before the captain.

“Is it tea time already?” Harlock said, taking the tray from her. “Thank you, Lassie. I would’ve forgotten if it weren’t for you.”

These pirates made time for tea? Lorcan had a sudden vivid image of Harlock making him walk the plank while sipping a cup of tea with his pinky out.

The girl smiled at Harlock and turned around to leave - but when she spotted Lorcan, she froze. Her coral-colored eyes slowly widened to the size of dinner plates.

Then, without so much as a “goodbye”, she ran out of the captain’s quarters.

“Hmm. Strange,” Harlock commented from the desk. 

Lorcan leaned sideways to catch a glimpse of the girl as she hurried downstairs. He turned back to the captain. “Who was she?” 

“Lassie?” Harlock started pouring tea into the mugs. “She’s our little free spirit. She sorta flirts about from one thing to the next on our ship - she’s mesmerized by almost anything. She’s usually much more friendly, though. One lump or two?”

“Er . . . one lump.” Lorcan wasn’t about to refuse tea from a pirate who could kill him any second. “Where did she come from?”

“Well, we’re not really sure,” Harlock said, dropping a sugar cube into one of the mugs. “We found her in the middle of the sea with nothing but a pearl. I mean, absolutely nothing. Had to use an old sail for some of her clothes. Here you go.”

That was maybe a bit more information than Lorcan needed. He took the mug from the captain and took a sip to distract himself from scandalous thoughts he had no business thinking - and nearly spat the tea out. 

“This is scalding!” Lorcan cried. “Are you trying to burn my tongue off?!”

“Yeah, that’d be Melshi,” Harlock said, dropping two sugars into his own mug. “He’s our cook. He has a habit of boiling the water for a bit too long. He has a habit of cooking everything for a bit too long, actually.” He sipped on his tea and seemed to relish in the extra-hot liquid. “Mm, just the way I like it.” 

“You’re all deranged,” Lorcan said. “All of you. I can’t survive much more of this.”

“Feel free to die, Your Highness. Care for some bread?”

Lorcan would’ve thrown his hands in the air, but then he would’ve sploshed the hot tea all over himself and probably die from first-degree burns instead of the pirates. “Fine.”

[leofrith]

[fic] a different kind of solace

fandom: assassin’s creed: valhalla

characters & pairings: eivor/leofrith

rating: explicit

“You are far from home, Leofrith.” It is late afternoon, and the street is bustling with activity, but her voice cuts through the din, distinct in its sound even as its owner is barely more than a perfect stranger to him. He turns. The last time he saw Eivor Wolf-Kissed, she was covered near head to toe with the evidence of battle. Blood—some of it his own—painted her face, muck was caked in her hair, and sweat soaked her armor. She had been no less striking for it then, but now that she is clean and well-kept, he finds himself nearly struck mute. “I could say the same of you, Wolf-Kissed,” he replies. — Leofrith, having just returned from Rome with a restless spirit and bloodstained hands, meets a familiar face on the streets of Lincoln.

read here: part i

[singsweetmelodies]

*charles wtf discord react*

[ollyou]

Okay i will post… ONE drawing of him from my Twitter…….

Character is King Olly from Paper Mario: The Origami King !!

—DO NOT REPOST—

Sorry for the obnoxious watermarks; I’m so tired of art thieves 😭

[monstrology]

thinking about that final scene of Justified: City Primeval episode 5 between Raymond and Raylan.

*I'm sure there's nuances to this I'm missing without reading the book, but this observation is mostly Raylan-centric because of that.

Raymond: So what do you want to know about the Oklahoma Wildman? It's all there. I left my old case files clean. Raylan: I ain't got those kinda questions. I want to know what's missing. Why I think I can't trust anybody. Why it's all a shit sandwich. Raymond: Look at you, still giving a fuck. Raylan: I try. Raymond: Ah, you remind me of me, man, when I started out. Except you're old. Raylan: I ain't gonna sleep at night if this son of a bitch wins. Raymond: Back in the day, first started out, guy I tangled with....Freddy Keck was his name. He was cute. You know, Freddy shot through my front window one night, not to kill. More like, "C'mon man, let's do it." Like it wasn't nothing--cowboys and Indians. Except Freddy was for real--a stone killer. Raylan: How'd you get him? Raymond: Eh, we couldn't. Raylan: You didn't get him? Raymond: I said we couldn't. Raylan: So what happened? Raymond: Showed up at my house one night. Raylan: He got tired of the games? Raymond: I know I was. But he says, "We're gonna sit and have a drink." It was all a big mix-up. Said if I had any sense of humor, I'd see how comical the whole thing was. He's chattering away. Yeah, he walks behind my bar, reaches down, and then... [pop noise]. Shot him. Raylan: He drew on you. Raymond: Eh, I shot him. Raylan: He had a gun on you. Raymond: Eh, I don't know. Raylan: You don't know? Raymond: Think it was a church key. Raylan: He had a bottle opener in his hand? Raymond: Yeah. What I remember is he's still talking. Hole in his chest, eyes wide open, still talking. I don't know what he was saying or who he was saying it to. I didn't care. The guy would never shut up. Anyway, I cleaned my fingernails with the bottle opener, and that was that. And I sleep just like a baby.

And it reminds me of everything about "Fire in the Hole," episode 1 of the original show. Boyd and Raylan sitting at a table, reenacting the confrontation between Tommy Bucks and Raylan. Tommy, who Raylan tells Boyd, had the gun under the table. How did Raylan know when to pull? Boyd asks.

Tommy went first. "He pulled first, so I was justified." And then Boyd goes to pull on Ava and Raylan shoots him first. Right in the chest, slightly off target.

And there Boyd lay, "hole in his chest, eyes wide open, still talking," like Raymond's Freddy, at least for a little while. Until he heals and then we spend 6 seasons with the most talkative shitkicker in Kentucky. A guy who never shut up.

Presumably, Freddy dies from his injuries and Raymond goes on to live his life supposedly unaffected. He sleeps like a baby. And Raylan implies that he won't sleep until Clement is caught, feeding into his personality of relentless pursuit as a marshal that we've seen throughout the original show. Regardless of his own personal struggles with his love interests or his daughter, Raylan prioritizes the mission of his job over all else. He's particularly insulted by Clement because he went after Willa, which ironically made Raylan push her away so he could go after Clement.

Raylan goes to sleep at night at peace because Tommy pulled first, his shot was justified, and Tommy received the justice Raylan believes was deserved for what happened in Nicaragua. Of course, there's a whole list of consequences that follow that at his job and from Detroit, but he justifies it for himself.

"But what troubles me is, what if he hadn't?" Raylan asks Winona at the end of Justified ep 1. "What if he just sat there and let the clock run out? Would I have killed him anyway? I know I wanted to."

What if there was no justification? What if the criminal in front of him, whom he knows deserves retribution, doesn't commit another crime upon him that it justifies his own violent act? He wants to shoot Clement, he wanted to shoot Tommy. He just needed a reason, first. To stay morally sane and just within himself.

For Raymond, there was no solid justification. He didn't know if Freddy was reaching for a weapon beyond a past history. Freddy was in RAYMOND'S house, behind RAYMOND'S bar. If Raymond had a weapon there, Raymond would know it. Even if Freddy had a weapon on his body, his movement wouldn't be towards the bar, but to his person. He comes up with a bottle opener to open a drink for their sit-down, but Raymond pulls on him anyway, without looking for the proof, without the justification to return fire.

Raylan continuously, confusedly, tries to insist Raymond's narrative fits his own moral code. "He drew on you. He had a gun on you." Raymond denies it. He had no clue. He couldn't get Freddy the legal way, so he got them the violent way, instead.

And he sleeps like a baby.

Raylan, who wondered if he would have killed Tommy if he hadn't pulled first, sits here ~15 years later and the first thought he has about a situation like this is still "they have to pull first--it's justified that way." I doubt he would have slept like a baby, not because he doesn't think Tommy deserved it regardless of pulling first, but because it would have shaken his own morality, the conception of himself that he's built in contrast to the criminal background he grew up in and worked around. It troubles him that he even questions his morality, without having acted on it.

Of course, Raylan is dubious by consistently nudging criminals towards making decisions that thus make pulling justified, but that's the gray side of law enforcement for you. There's also the question of Raylan's trajectory had it followed the book and his shot had killed Boyd. He apologizes to him as he lay bloody and fading away, and yet his survival suggests a subconscious decision to spare an old friend's life regardless of who pulled first--technically, Ava was the one with the loaded and aimed weapon and Raylan was defending her, after all. Raymond, meanwhile, cleaned his nails with the item that accidentally killed Freddy, unconcerned for the nuances of the incident.

All of this just highlights a stark difference between the two, Raylan and Raymond. And even though Raylan doesn't mention his past at all during this story and insight into Raymond's history, you could hear the echoes of Raylan's past in it, looking at all the parallels of two men in similar circumstances with different outcomes.

[hoodienanami]

since were living in this new age of understanding when it comes to how becoming famous (especially tabloid famous/infamous) at a young age negatively effects your mental health and psychological development i think its time that ppl start reevaluating how they talk about the sex pistols

[boxwinebaddie]

not me playing phone destroyer just to conduct ~research~