#perhaps …. true abuser done perfectly

[failbrothers]

oh so lestat is EVIL evil. got it

[aneveningsword]

Hey, I was wondering if you could write sub Jordan li with a dom reader, where the reader gets jealous of someone flirting with Jordan

And can there be Smut if you write smut

Only if you're comfortable with it. Thank you

Hi anon!! I love this request, I mainly focused on fem!Jordan but if you want I am happy to do a mas!Jordan verison

pairing: Jordan Li x gn! reader warnings: not proofread, badly written smut (I am very sorry) words: 1008 summary: basically the ask

masterlist

You had always felt secure in your relationship with Jordan, you knew they would never cheat because they knew no one could fuck them as good as you. While your relationship just started as a way to let off stress for the both of you, it soon developed into true feelings. You knew you liked Jordan more than a fuck buddy and they knew they liked you more too. Yet, the pair of you were hesitant to put a label on what you had, afraid it might ruin things.

It wasn't unusual for your small friend group to frequent clubs and bars at night, looking for a different way to release all the stress from school. Most of the time you simply frequent the bar, eyes watching over the crowd, only dancing when Cate or Marie would come over and drag you into the crowd, not that you minded.

But tight there was a sight that made the grip on your drink a little tighter, had your jaw locked in anger. It wasn't often that people approached Jordan, it was a bit of a surprise given how attractive they were. But you guessed it had to do with the way they always seemed annoyed and disinterested in everything around them.

But it seemed someone was feeling brave tonight, perhaps aided by some liquid courage. You watched their hands roam a little too low as they danced with Jordan, how they were whispering filthy things in their ear hoping to get a reaction. You couldn't get a clear read on Jordan's face, but it was clear they didn't dislike the attention they were receiving.

Downing the rest of your drink, you made your way through the crowd, eyes never leaving the pair. Upon reaching them your hand would interlace with Jordan's as you pulled them to your side in one swift movement. A noise of surprise left them, but their words died in their throat as they took note of the jealousy swirling in your eyes as you stared at them.

"You mind? We were chatting." The harsh voice of the drunkard abused your eyes as you looked at them unamused. You wished you had the power to blow up people with your eyes, but sadly you were not graced with such a gift. Leaving you to settle for the harsh glare and burning hate that were in your eyes.

"Yeah? Sure didn't look like it." Jordan was silent next to you, hand still wrapped in yours. This was a part of their little plan to get you to fuck their brains out tonight. Get you all jealous and riled up, by entertaining some drunk idiot, and it had worked perfectly.

"Come on." Your voice left no room for argument as you basically dragged a grinning Jordan out of the club. You had barely a few meters from the club before you pulled them down an alley and pushed them against the brick wall. The noise from the club could still be heard despite the thick wall.

"You're such a fucking slut." Your voice is low, face so close that if they pushed forward just a little they could capture their lips with yours. But you knew that, hand on their hips holding them in place to make sure they didn't try and ruin your fun.

"Hmm? So fucking desperate that you'd go home with anyone?" The question brought a small frown to their face but you knew there was no negative emotion behind it. "No, I just-" They began in an attempt to defend themself but you quickly cut them off. "Just what? Wanted to make me jealous? Well, consider it done."

Within an instant your lips were on theirs in a passionate kiss, the hand on their hip pulling their body flush against yours, as your free hand rests on the side of their neck to deepen the kiss. Their hand tangles in your hair, and a soft moan escape them from the contact. This is what they had been wanting all night.

Breaking the kiss, your mouth began to trail kiss along their neck, leaving small bites here and there pulling soft noises from Jordan. You feel their hands begin to drift over your body, hands finding the helm of your shirt as they begin to lift it up hoping to slip their hands under. Detaching from them your hands wrap over theirs, stopping their action.

A small, mocking pout plays on your lips as you speak "I don't think I remember saying you could touch me. You wanna be a brat, I'll treat you like a brat." Your voice is stern as you pull their hands from your shirt. One hand moves to grope their breast while the other hangs onto one of their hands. While this was just meant to be a quick fuck, you knew Jordan likes to feel your hands intertwined together. The action grounded them as things got heated.

Your lips are back on their as you shallow their moans, sandwiching them between your body and the wall. You bully your thigh in between their legs, knee pressed hard against the cold bricks. Detaching from them you move to whisper in their ear "Come on baby, grind down on my thigh. I know you want to."

It seemed it was your permission they were wanting, as within an instant they were rolling their hips on your thigh letting out the most pathetic little noises that sounded like music to your ears. Your mouth moved to begin leaving marks on their neck, marking them up to show who they belonged to.

Your fingers pinch their nipples as you need the flesh there. It was not long before the stimulation was going to be too much for Jordan, their whines only increasing in volume and pitch. Just as they were about to reach their high, your thigh dropped from between their legs, leaving them cold and empty.

"You really think I was going to let you off that easy? Baby, you've been bad."

[lilacxquartz]

Those Late Summer Nights | Chapter 1

Satoru Gojo x Fem!Reader x Suguru Geto

ABOUT: Moving to the city from a small town was no easy feat, especially to start teaching as a jujutsu sorcerer.

Quickly socially adopted by your prospective colleagues over the summer as you settle in, you begin a slow descent into a life filled with unwanted attention and obsession.

And not just from one person either.

THEMES: yandere, dead dove do not eat, non-con elements, angst, boundaries will be pushed to uncomfortable limits, naive reader, manipulation, abusive elements all will apply at some point, reader insert, second person pov, this is also canon divergent, meaning that geto isn’t in his bad timeline just yet and is a teacher just like you.

FINAL WARNING! Even if it starts off just fine, it’s all a facade. ⚠️

✨ Updated every Wednesday | also posted on ao3 under the name lilac_quartz

1. Goodbye

Ever since the days of your childhood, you could see things that weren’t otherwise visible to anyone else lurk in the dark or simply just linger around people like parasites.

At often times, these creatures would parrot the person they were shadowing, somehow perfectly resembling their true selves in the form of a grotesque caricature.

You quickly learned that this ability for being able to perceive such creatures wasn’t the norm and as such, your parents quickly caught on. Your mother told you fairly early on into life that you had a gift and it skipped every other generation on her side, so if you truly desire a normal life… then to just simply ignore it.

It was surely difficult, though.

For a while, you tried to live your life as normally as you could. You went to a normal school, tried to have normal friends and did your best to bury the ability to see things that you perhaps had no business seeing as time went on.

However, your gift was scouted out relatively quickly in a nearby school for special people just like yourself. It called itself a jujutsu school and the one in your area was one of the smaller ones in the country, meaning that you were the only student in your entire year and the only remaining two third years were gone by your second year with no fresh enrolments.

And when the time came to graduate, you did so alone as the only student sorcerer in the school.

The campus to your school wasn’t as greatly funded as the other schools so it didn’t quite have accommodation so you couldn’t really live there. This was apparently common in less populated areas.

Despite this, it felt like a blessing to leave your small town everyday and to simply just explore on field trips with your teacher. She was relatively young, she could have been your older sister as far as ages went and she did her best to make you feel included as a person, sympathising with you that this is indeed a lonely route in life at times but it’s all for something so much bigger.

But that wasn’t the reason you felt so alone.

There was another problem that resided in your town and it wasn’t loneliness, nor was it the fact that the town itself was polluted with generational problems — there was the problem of your lifelong childhood bully who simply did not like you and as such, made your life a living hell from the moment you could understand words.

If she hadn’t been human, she could have made a good cursed spirit. There was something incredibly off about her, something so twisted and perfectly vile, reflected and validated by the cursed spirits that hovered around her.

The town itself was crawling with them too; the town hall, the local hospital, the two schools and even certain houses harboured at least the simple ones. They weren’t dangerous, but they were there and keeping them around wasn’t doing anyone any good either.

Had you cared just a little bit more, you would have done something about it, but this town wasn’t kind to you and you weren’t going to be nice to it either.

Was that petty?

It sounded perfectly fair to you, even if you didn’t admit it to anyone. Your teacher told you that you were studying and learning how to be a sorcerer to protect people, to create a balance in this world, so technically you should have been exorcising those things in your free time.

As sad as it sounded also, she was also your only friend by the time you had reached graduation, too. You graduated from that place with the intention of becoming something similar, hoping to be someone’s support in what was an unforgiving and isolating life.

She helped you with everything beyond that point too, wanting to help you leave this place and explore your potential. She handled the references and getting your name to the right people, but still, it was starkly silent and you remained dormant for just a couple years more than you should have been after finishing school.

You hoped to land something in the bigger cities though, so you never backed down from the beginning. You knew that the cursed spirits that resided those were often worse and more intelligent, that the people there were simply just more complex, but that was besides the point—you wanted to get away from home as fast as you could, as far as you could.

Living at home in the sticks with your parents that were distant to you ever since you convinced them to let you go to that alternative school in a town under the spiteful eye of someone who understood perfectly well that there was something about you… wasn’t that great of a deal.

Especially after what she did back then.

The night that she went too far.

So, one could only imagine your relief and maybe some shock, when out of all of the places that could have taken you in for a teaching position, it was for Tokyo.

Your eyes stared at the letter for the longest time when it happened. You thought it was a prank at first, but it all seemed perfectly legitimate. Apparently your former teacher was hard at work to help you out and as it turned out, teachers with support-centric techniques were surprisingly in demand.

The letter recommended to move after the summer term had ended to get yourself set up and established, especially if moving from a place so far away. The school budget paid the teachers a minimum monthly salary due to some type of sorcerers’ union, so even if you were out of work for the summer, getting by shouldn’t be too much of a problem.

All you had to do was make it past the first month on your savings.

You were determined to make it work.

The moment that it was all set up and confirmed, you didn’t even look back. You thanked your parents for letting you stay and for not being too against your life, ready to head out and begin anew.

It would be different this time after all, you didn’t have to be the person you were before.

You could begin anew.

***

Upon arriving in Tokyo, it was admittedly a struggle with finding your bearings in such a crowded and bustling place. Your old school was nearby a city and you’d often go there for field trips, but it was nowhere near to this magnitude.

You were met at the train station by a jujutsu assistant. To your understanding, these were people who couldn’t quite make the cut as sorcerers but they were just as valuable with getting everything set up and done. Your old school had one too, but their job was simply to get you from your house and to the campus as well as the other way around.

This one on the other hand was absurdly helpful, their stature and tone laced with a certain type of professionalism that you didn’t think was possible; they not only drove you to the campus, but they also took their time to explain the layout, the facilities and even told you that you have a right to use the on-site accommodation over the summer if you didn’t quite having a living situation figured out just yet.

You didn’t, to their credit. You were about to live your first month out in a cheap hotel and hope for the best… so this was absolutely a step up in a better direction, at least as a temporary fix.

As such, you took that offer right away, not really thinking about it. It would make do for now, at least. You would be alone for the duration of it, but you didn’t quite care about that because you were already used to that to a degree.

Moving in as a result was easy enough; you chose the bedroom closest to the kitchen and bathroom, not bothering to explore the rest of the rooms because that’s all you needed.

You moved in a little earlier than the letter encouraged you to do so, but it was apparently fine to do so. As such, you were there right as the summer break had actually started so the existing teachers would be available to meet before they’d be excused for the holidays.

In a way, this thought mildly terrified you even if you were encouraged by the assistant to do so, to just get an idea of the types of people you’d be working with. You harboured some mild social anxiety from your isolated way of life and your main fear was coming across as strange in a way that was off-putting.

This was a high school so you fretted about it more than you should. What if your technique was lame? What if you came across as uninteresting? Did the teachers have cliques here or did they not care about such trivial matters?

Sorcerers were often weird themselves, so they were probably used to the latter.

Hopefully.

***

It took you a couple of days to get settled in and you took those moments to get used to the campus, mapping it out in your mind so that you could avoid getting lost wherever you had to be on your first day. The last thing you wanted to do was to mess up in front of your students, of course.

You also got used to using the nearby bus line that was close to the campus. The travel card itself was heavily discounted, just one of the many perks supposedly and you got used to small frequent trips to go and get groceries just as some strange form of exposure therapy.

Come Friday, or rather the final Friday, it was time to get to know who you would be working with. You being nervous was the understatement of the century. You always knew that you would end up at least somewhere to be a jujutsu teacher, but all of the big shots were in Tokyo and that’s who you would be working with.

The gathering point was in a standard staff lounge. The room itself was beige both in flooring and the surrounding walls had a few sofas stacked against them. There was otherwise a kitchenette further into the room with a coffee machine that apparently was labelled as defunct, despite the lingering smell of it going strong in the room.

The head of the school, Yaga as you had come to know him as, was the first person you met beyond that room. He didn’t let you say too much before he would lead you off to a group of people and throw you right in the middle of the conversation they were otherwise having.

As such, the anxiety began to fester.

You tried to keep your cool, though.

“These two,” he began to speak up as he pointed to a tall white-haired man and another with longer pulled back black hair, “will be your two official colleagues, you’ll be taking on the same students as a whole but you will be assigned individual cases based on your abilities.”

Both seemed to be around your age, which both comforted and unsettled you all at the same time

The white haired man was the first to interact with you as he drew out his hand to shake as you awkwardly scrambled to meet him halfway. His vibrant blue eyes were certainly unique, you thought.

“Pleased to meet you,” he spoke, his tone was playful and yet professional, “I’m Satoru Gojo, you can call me as you’d like.”

You have heard of that name before, at least the clan name. There were certain details that reached even your small school and you were aware of the major sorcerer clans at the very least.

“Suguru, Geto,” the black haired man added on, his handshake more curt and to the point.

A woman between the two of them cleared her throat, throwing a narrowly pointed stare at the principal and extended her hand to you as well. Yaga muttered something under his breath to her as he walked off, leaving you behind with three completely new people.

She had shoulder length brown hair and slight eye bags that occupied her face. She rolled up the sleeve to her white coat to comfortably shake your hand as well.

“I’m Shoko Ieri. Just call me Shoko, feel free to call these two by their first names too. They won’t mind, nor care,” she said as she introduced herself to you.

“I’m [name],” you nodded along as you introduced yourself, unsure what to really say beyond that point, “the new supportive techniques teacher, I suppose.”

“Ah, I heard we were getting someone new in that department,” Satoru said, his eyes scrolling up and down your body, leaving you feeling a little exposed.

“I’m the campus doctor so not really a teacher,” Shoko added along, “Satoru handles most of the students, Suguru helps train others with things like hand to hand combat and sword fighting.”

“Looks like we’ve finally got a solid facility,” Satoru smiled, throwing his arms around his two colleagues. You assumed that they were all good friends, something that you envied.

“So where are you from?” Shoko asked.

“Oh, I’m from a town further north in the country,” you replied, feeling just a little nervous for admitting it. You wondered if you should have just said you were from a city up north instead.

“How are you finding the big city?” Satoru almost teased, his teeth flashing through his playful grin.

“Exhausting,” you admitted with a small smile, your eyes trailing onto the ground as you mulled over your answer, “but I like it.”

“You’ll get used to it,” he smiled before going off to pay attention to his other friend, seemingly concluding that brief interaction with you.

Shoko stared at him for a moment as she did so before turning her sights back to you.

“Hey, so we’re going out for drinks, nothing too serious, maybe you should come along?” she asked, her tone was friendly but it didn’t seem fake.

You considered it as you looked at her for a moment. You weren’t really the drinking type as you simply never had the opportunity to do so; your parents never kept alcohol at home and you didn’t have the friends to go sneak off and get it elsewhere growing up.

“Please, you’d be doing me a favour,” she spoke up again in a more lighthearted manner, noticing your hesitation, “it would be just me and these two otherwise.”

“I could,” you nodded along to it, after all. If you were going to be leaving your comfort zone, then you had to actually take a step out of it if the opportunity arose, which it did here.

“Great,” she smiled, pulling your hand along with her as she caught up to the other two, “if you’re going to be working with these two, you might as well get to know them.”

The two men didn’t say anything but they did make room to include you as they walked along beside you. You felt some discomfort as a result, as if you were a fourth wheel somehow intruding on a perfectly established dynamic.

You walked along in relative silence as you tried to keep up with some desperation as the streets quickly became more and more crowded. To your comfort, Shoko never once let go of your wrist and pushed through the masses with you in tow, telling you to just stare straight ahead because making eye contact with people only slows them down, to focus on that building right at the end of the road because that’s where you’re all going.

You listened to her words and took everything she said seriously as the bustle quickly got too overwhelming, finding that it surprisingly worked and as such, quickly found comfort in her company because she was the first person aside from your teacher to give you a chance.

You even sat next to her when you got to the bar as the two others went elsewhere, to get drinks from what it looked like.

“Shoko’s hogging the newbies again,” Satoru pouted as he came back with a few bottles of booze as his friend brought over even more, “always getting to know them before we do.”

“You’re not exactly an easy person to get to know,” she replied as she poured herself a drink, pouring one for you right after, “besides you left immediately, what were you expecting?”

“For my grand charm to kick in and let the law of attraction do its work?” he laughed as he settled into his seat, seeming a little tired from what you could gather.

“So hopeless,” she replied as she took a swig from her glass, “you talk too much about yourself, and you don’t talk talk enough—someone has to be the middleman, right?”

“I do talk, though?” Suguru replied as he quietly poured himself a drink.

“You’ve said the least so far, to be fair,” Satoru piled on.

“The newbie isn’t talking much either,” he shrugged as he took a sip.

“That’s what the drinks are for,” Satoru smiled, “everyone’s talkative after a few.”

You suddenly felt as though it was now your queue to drink, but you didn’t really know what to expect from it but you tried your best and still managed to sour your face as you got into it, getting a couple of stifled laughs from the seats opposite.

“Take a big sip and then force it down,” Shoko said, “it gets easier as time goes by.”

You nodded as your cheeks quickly grew red from embarrassment.

“So, you said you were from the north right? Just how far up north?” Satoru asked as he leaned in, a little too suddenly interested in you after seeing you couldn’t hold your drink.

“Just… far enough… I guess…” you replied, your eyes slowly drifting off to the table as you felt less and less enthusiastic about sharing where you were from.

“You don’t sound too happy about that place,” Suguru observed as he replied to you directly, “that bad?”

You nodded a little as you made brief eye contact with him, talking yourself into drinking more for the sake of getting out of your bubble.

“[name]?” Satoru asked as he leaned in, completely ignoring the conversation that was otherwise happening.

“Yes?” you asked, suddenly caught just a little off guard from the tone he used. It was somehow accusatory and you weren’t looking forward to whatever happened next.

“I mean this politely, but is this your first time drinking?” he continued to ask.

You gulped down your embarrassment and decided to just go along with it, after all. You knew that it would only look worse for you in the long run if you made a big deal out of such things.

“I-I didn’t really get the chance to do that back home,” you tried to reply, laughing a little at yourself and hoping for the best.

“Really? I wouldn’t imagine that there’s much else to do in a small town, especially one that you’re not too fond of,” he replied, talking a little louder as the alcohol settled in his body.

“I mostly just existed there, I guess,” you said in a tone that was a little too sombre, quickly surrendering to another sip of the liquid comfort. To your peripheral vision, Suguru seemed to paying just a little more attention to you now but you weren’t sure if you were simply just imagining things.

You watched with both comfort and unease as Shoko topped off the glass that you barely finished as the others were by now onto their third glasses and then imitated a gesture of how you’re supposed to drink with her hand, expecting you to follow.

You sighed as you did so, perhaps it was some right of passage that you simply had to follow along. The drink felt sharp in your throat somehow, more so than before. It did wake you up though and to your embarrassment, you felt just a little buzz after it had finally settled.

“Attagirl,” she cheered you on as she patted your back with some pride, “see, you need to pick your poison in a place like this, otherwise it’s gonna burn you out.”

“That why you drink so much and smoke a pack a day?” Satoru teased her, leaning over the table and fishing out a pack of cigarettes from her coat pocket.

“Hey,” she replied as she smacked his hand away, “you’re saying that like you’re not the cause for it.”

“I can’t possibly be that bad enough to give you both a drinking and smoking problem,” he said as he resigned back into his seat.

“Nah, she’s right,” Suguru agreed with Shoko.

“Really?” he asked in a fake exasperated tone, not seeming too surprised about the teasing.

“Are you actually surprised?” Shoko laughed as she topped you up once again.

They continued to laugh and joke with each other, finally relaxing within your company and you finally didn’t feel like such a fourth wheel even if you weren’t contributing much.

You finally also then took hold of your third drink and stared it down with such determination that Satoru even drummed his hands on the table as you were about to drink it. Shoko did the same and Suguru was the last to join.

When you finally downed it without making a face that time, you finally felt relaxed enough to smile and laugh with the rest of them as your milestone was finally met.

Maybe this was it.

Maybe, just maybe, it was finally getting better.

(But if only you knew.)

Next chapter.

[bootlegramdomneess]

The Bear Season 2 thoughts

After watching The Bear season 2 and letting things marinate, I think I’d like to share my thoughts. First, as a therapist, for me this show perfectly depicts trauma and its effects in its most raw form. It was so uncomfortable and heartbreaking to watch at times, I felt like one of the themes of this season is sacrifice. What are you willing to sacrifice to A. Discover your purpose and B. is it worth sacrificing so much for success? I saw this theme numerous times throughout the season particularly with the Star convo and from Chef Luca when Marcus asked if it is all worth it and the convo Carmy had with uncle Jimmy about the story of failure

 The Xmas episode: This was hard to watch. I had to keep pausing it. Donna is so dysregulated and disturbed. But what I really want to discus and Mikey and Carmy’s dynamic. Mikey is so troubled. He is so unwell. Mikey is Carmy’s hero, but I think Carmy doesn’t see how deeply troubled his brother is. Mikey admires Carmy so much because Carmy was brave enough to get away from the family to pursue his dreams. So heartbreaking.  SO MUCH DYSFUNCTION.

 Claire- Her character wasn’t fully developed, but I feel like maybe it was done purposefully. We are seeing her through Carmy’s eyes and Carmy doesn’t seem to really know how he feels about her, or know her.  He says he’s in love after being forced to choose a feeling, but really he’s only just connected with her. I think perhaps he is equating that feeling of enjoying being with her with love, or maybe even having sex with her with love. He latched onto Claire because she is good at comforting him. Many people who come from dysfunction struggle with this and will latch onto people who appear to be good at this.  He’s with her because he thinks, oh, this is fun and normal. He used the term seeking “FUN” but he is searching for normality without a clue as to what normal is. Even deeper, he’s searching for a true path to becoming a healthy adult.

  Carmy: I empathize with him so much.  I do see Carmy has made some progress. His insight has improved a bit as he recognizes how much trauma he has experienced and how it has manifested in his adult life.  He is trying. He is seeking to change. He has recognized the need to be less emotionally inhibited. His judgement is a little impaired though. He sort of thrives In Chaos. That’s why the alarm going off wasn’t bothering him. That’s why he created this entire scenario by getting in a serious relationship with a stranger. He is so emotionally inhibited: The excessive inhibition of spontaneous action, feeling, or communication, usually to avoid disapproval by others, feelings of shame, or losing control of one’s impulses. inhibition of Positive impulses (e.g., joy, affection, sexual excitement, play); (c) difficulty expressing vulnerability or communicating freely about one’s feelings, needs, and so forth; or (d) excessive emphasis on rationality while disregarding emotions. I think this is his main Schema. Yah boy is messed up and needs some one-on-one therapy. I can go on and on about this. There’s so much. Carmy’s actions are pretty on point for someone coming from trauma, dysfunctional parents, and alcoholic parents. He behavior breathes asshole, but really, he has a deeply wounded, lonely, angry, abandoned and abused inner child and his adult self needs some serious healing.  

 Sydney: I love how they wrote and expanded her character this season.  I love how vulnerable they showed her to be. How hard she worked to deal with the growing anxiety. I felt her loneliness when she was eating that giant sundae alone, but I also loved seeing her in her element. Her dad is an ace. She has such a grounding, funny, hardworking energy.

 Carmy and Sydney: my babies. Their dynamic is so sweet. So genuine. So raw and real. How many times has he had a panic attack and thoughts of Sydney grounded him? Like..sir. I also feel he’s trying to protect Sydney in a way, and I see this in the star conversation. Underneath his words he is saying: I had to give up so much to get this and I don’t want that for you. It’s hell. It’s fucking terrible pressure. You don’t want this, but also not saying it because maybe he doesn’t want to shatter or shit on her dreams and ambitions. The foreshadowing of the growing anxiety she’ll likely face in the next season with the receipt machine going off in her head was telling. I think this is what Carmy is warning her about. I love when she jokingly teases him. I appreciate how he notices things about her: “you like making people happy.” I like that she calls him out and communicates her needs to him. This is a slow burn. They’re so awkward. They want to hang out. I don’t think they realize they may have feelings yet or if they ever will. They are so much a like in certain aspects but so different in how they view the world because of how they were raised.

Lastly, Richie is the MVP for me this season. I have a soft spot for him.

[jewishconvertthings]

This isn’t a conversion question but I hope it’s okay to ask here. Is there anything I can do to support people living in Israel during this terrifying time?

Hi anon,

I wrestled with how/if to respond to this, because I try very hard to keep I/P politics off of this blog and have since I started this blog in 2017 or so. It is not relevant to this blog what my opinions are on this, and it's hard to talk about the topic at all (even in a neutral way) without people accusing you of being Zionist or Anti-Zionist if what you say does not perfectly line up with their viewpoint.

But in the end, I think that this transcends politics. It has to. Condemning the slaughter, torture, and sexual abuse of human beings, whoever they are, is the correct opinion. I don't care who is doing it, and I don't care why. This isn't a political debate; this is basic human decency.

As for what you can do right now? If you have Israeli or Palestinian friends (whether they are in your community or in Israel/Palestine, reach out to them. They may b'ezrat Hashem be safe, but they are not ok, so instead of asking, just let them know you are thinking of them, that you are praying for their continued safety and for peace to come swiftly and justly. They may not feel like talking, but if they do, hold space for them.

There are a lot of excellent organizations collecting funds to help with the great need that has been created by these atrocities. Find ones whose mission and goals align with your own, double check their validity, and then donate what you can.

Many Jewish communities (most, I assume) are currently organizing or have already set up community events to address the issues and to pray as a community. Look at your email - my inbox had no less than twelve different events (online and in person) within the next few days - and check the websites for Jewish organizations that you affiliate with for opportunities to gather and debrief.

And, perhaps, the most important thing from a social media standpoint: make sure that you vet *all* information before deciding to accept it as true and cross-check it with other sources, especially if you plan on sharing that information. Both Hamas and the Israeli government are masters of propaganda, and the Western media really likes to lean into this for a better story. Since Western media thrives on conflict and hyped up emotions to keep people interested and scrolling, there is a strong incentive to publish as much as quickly as possible, the more sensational the better. Use reputable sources, but don't rely on them to get it right 100% of the time. I would suggest looking at reputable sources that have a clear, known bias in each direction and comparing them both to media that at least attempts to be neutral. So far, it doesn't seem like too too many facts have been in dispute (most of the information about the atrocities committed by Hamas has been posted by Hamas as propaganda) but it's early. If you have the emotional bandwidth and have done the research, please correct the misinformation you see from friends, family, and followers. Do **not** jump in with assumptions or non-researched opinions, because that will only fuel the chaos and not help anyone.

Above all, be smart, be wary of disinformation, be compassionate, and (to the extent you are able) be generous. Remember that civilians are civilians, that neither group of civilians chose this, that plenty of them dream of a peaceful and just coexistence, and that intentionally hurting non-combatants is always wrong no matter the justification.

As for me, I will turn to Tehillim and to the words of the Prayer for Peace:

May we see the day when war and bloodshed cease, When a great peace will embrace the whole world. Then nation will not threaten nation, and the human family will not again know war. For all who live on earth shall realize we have not come into being to hate or to destroy. We have come into being to praise, to labor, and to love. Compassionate God, bless the leaders of all nations with the power of compassion. Fulfill the promise conveyed in Scripture: I will bring peace to the land and you shall lie down and no one shall terrify you. I will rid the land of vicious beasts and it shall not be ravaged by war. Let justice and righteousness flow like a mighty stream. Let God’s peace fill the earth as the waters fill the sea. And let us say: Amen

[cynical-canidae]

I had an epiphany yesterday lying awake in bed and now I completely understand Aziraphale's motivations and decisions in s2e6. This is coming from someone who on first watch-through was also upset with Aziraphale. However, I have changed my mind. Instead, I am deeply saddened for him.

Some of this may be obvious, but bear with me. I will try to be to the point, but I am a rambler. So come along for the ride!! I talk about emotionally abusive parents, so if that bothers you, don't read on.

Crowley's relationship with his parent (God/Heaven) is meant to symbolize that of someone who has been disowned/cut them out of their life. And Aziraphale's relationship with his parent (God/Heaven) is that of one who still has that figure in their life. Someone who still has to interact with them. Someone who has not separated themself from their source of trauma, so it keeps happening/they have had no time to heal. From personal experience, this creates a very complex dynamic between you and your parent figure/abuser, and exploring this PERFECTLY explains why Aziraphale does what he does.

Here is why.

When you have an emotionally abusive parent, it's really, REALLY hard to unpack. You are taught that your parent can do no wrong. They're always right. If they do something awful to you, then it must be your fault. You learn to associate this treatment with love. Because that's the thing, isn't it? They love you. They tell you they love you. They're doing this "because they love you." They want "what's best for you." You're ungrateful if you think otherwise.

It can be super hard to grow out of this mindset because your self-worth becomes solely dependent on your ability to make them happy and please them. Even if you can acknowledge that they are abusive, it still takes a lot to stop associating their approval with being loved and having a purpose.

It is even harder when you have not separated yourself from this constant cycle. It can be so, so frustrating because YOU love THEM. You probably shouldn't, but you do. You WANT to make it work. You WANT their approval. You WANT this happy world where they can magically be like "Oh, I understand the error of my ways. Let's be a proper, happy family from now on." Even if they have been abhorrent to you and you can acknowledge that, you still love them. It would be so much easier if you didn't, but you do.

That's why you keep hope. You defensively keep them at arm's length. Sometimes, you see moments where you truly believe they could change. Maybe they do something nice or maybe they respect a boundary they didn't before. These moments stay with you even when they cross that same old line. The moment you feel like "maybe everyone was right. Maybe I would be better off without them," these moments drag you through the bad times. It's why people saying "why don't you just leave them?" is so frustrating (though it may be true). Because you have this optimistic idea of how things could be in your head. You would rather keep trying than admit that your parent doesn't truly love you. You would rather keep trying because your brain thinks their approval is the one thing that you can't live without.

Does this sound familiar?

Aziraphale is the culmination of millions and millions of years of mommy issues, and in s2e6, he's just been given a whole platter of things to doubt himself on. The Archangel Gabriel actually feels the same way, very done with Heaven's bullshit. He even did this very forbidden, totally against regulation thing that Aziraphale has also kept quiet (falling in love with your "hereditary enemy"). The Metatron, who Aziraphale was definitely NOT keen on beforehand, is actually surprisingly understanding and kind. To which Aziraphale pointedly says he believes HE (Zira) misjudged them (The Metatron). SO understanding, in fact, to the point that The Metatron even shows what could be acceptance of Aziraphale working with Crowley. Even perhaps reinstating them to be an angel.

This is very important because this is what every person in this situation dreams of hearing. Your abusive parent admitting that they might have made a mistake. They were wrong. Because if they're wrong, that means that what you believe about yourself (it's all your fault the way they treated you; it's not fixable) can possibly be wrong, too. The Metatron saying that to Aziraphale means Heaven could have been in the wrong for casting out Crowley. (NOT at ALL that Crowley is not good enough for Heaven.) That Heaven has the capacity to change for the better and continue doing good even greater than before.

So I really don't think Aziraphale was drugged or anything like that at all. I think he is unwilling to let go of this hope of Heaven changing for the better, which is why he was so, SO excited to share the news. Saying he "wasn't as devastated" by their little breakup or doing it to be malicious is incredibly not true. He loves Crowley just as much. They certainly need to work on their communication, yes, obviously.

However, they ultimately disagreed on this one little thing. EXACTLY LIKE the Gabriel situation. Crowley's solution is to be as far away from the danger as possible. And Aziraphale's solution is to try to fix it. The disagreement in the beginning of the season foreshadowed their disagreement at the very end of this season. Only this time, they've run out of ridiculous "apology" dances and bandaid solutions to distract from the fact they won't talk to each other.

Thank you for reading my word vomit lmao. 🫰🐺

[cakeboxie]

A future to hope(?) for/The looming dread of horrors you can’t yet fathom

In which Zevlor (unwillingly) thinks through the course of his life, and fights the urge to set a perfectly innocent book on fire.

Tw. unprocessed trauma resurfacing at inopportune times, vomit + graphic nausea, inconsistent/failing memory, victim blaming (on himself,) abuse, graphic depiction of a panic attack, implied death, self hatred.

(Yall can thank @hallowsden for this btw, she had the idea of Zevlor having visions of his future that this entire fic revolves around)

The little pad of parchment in his hands taunts him. His name messily embroidered in the leather. (And the name of his baby sister below it. Guilt crawls up his spine as he turns it over, one name of too many lost.)

On its backside is a moon, the embroidery much cleaner, in the same yarn the book was bound in. It’s aged leather burns his hands, yet his calloused skin is not marred.

This first of many dream journals, and idea of his mother from when the dreams, or perhaps more accurately, visions began.

He remembered this one well, or did he? Was this truly the first? Surely not, (it is) surely he should toss it to the fire and dig up the true original. (He doesn’t)

“Momma- I had a funny dream!”

“Is that so sweetling? What was it about?”

(His head spins, he tosses the book onto his desk as he tries desperately to find the sound of her voice in the haze. It doesn’t come, only the words, flat and empty. He pushes on.)

“I was a hellrider! I had one of the big swords an’ everything!”

“Ooh you should tell your father, i’m sure he’d be more than happy to teach you to wield a sword.”

(An old scar, imperceptible under a myriad of newer ones, aches anew. The timbre of his fathers voice rings clear as daylight between his ears as an intense wave of nausea crashes over him, he cannot run. He pushes on.)

He sees himself, barely 5 years old then, running to his father. He scolds himself for his impatience, he should’ve known better than to disrupt him.

His memory jumps (thank gods) to years later, he’s almost as tall as his mother now.

“Momma I had another dream!”

Concern etched into her brow, his baby sister sleeps in her arms. (What did she look like..? The face forms slowly, older than she was then? Before he can stop it the face of her corpse is plastered onto the memory. The nausea climbs further up his throat, he swallows thickly, and he pushes on.)

“Hopefully not another nightmare..?”

“I dunno, it wasn’t a good dream, wasn’t bad either? I was old, older then you n’ dad. But I was… sad? My chest hurt like I was sad, but I couldn’t cry like when you’re sad.”

(Should he be crying? Has he not done enough?)

Her expression is complicated (she knows the word loneliness, he realizes that he did not) she reaches into the bedside table, the book now in front of him, the cover is blank.

“You remember when we found out about your sister, and I told you I might not have time for your dreams all the time?”

“Mhm.”

“Well, I think since you’ve been having so many not good, but not bad dreams you should try writing them down.”

His sister stirs in her arms. The memory falls away as her burnt flesh warps into something akin to an open mouth. He can’t look away, she cries for his help, for their mother, for peace. Her voice swallows him, and he’s out of his seat and retching into his chamber pot before he's consciously aware of having moved.

Time crawls, his entire body aches as he lets himself lay flat on the floor. He is safe here at least (he is not- he needs to run? Run where? Away, he can’t help her- he can’t help any of them. Pathetic oathbreaker he is he can’t save them.)

He wheezes, feels it more than hears it, barely even that over the thundering of his heart. It’s all a world away now. He realizes slowly that he is afraid, though he knows not what is causing it. A thick layer of mud between him and his body, he is afraid. He is afraid? He is afraid.

The book, it’s in his hand? Maybe not, his senses come to him slowly. His throat aches, has he been screaming? Or perhaps just sobbing. The nausea wanes and he sits up slowly, his body protests, he pushes on.

The acrid smell of bile hits him finally as he sits fully upright. The nausea returns. His body doesn’t have the energy to make him throw up again, does it? Hopefully not.

The book?

The book.

It used to have a latch, he thinks. One of them certainly did. A gift from a friend (don’t think about faces don’t think about faces don’t think about faces-)

His writing is cleaner than he expected, as far as expected for a child that is.

‘Momma says i’m supposed to write my dreams down. I think its silly, but if she thinks it’ll help I’ll try!’

It it silly? Maybe he should start a new dream journal, commission dammon to make the latch, he must know a leatherworker for the cover. He could bind it himself, he’s sure-

Off track. He’s off track. Flip the page.

‘I didn’t like this dream. It was so hot, I was tired, but I wasn’t allowed to stop. It was like when-’

Avernus. Flip the page.

Flip the page.

Flip the page.

Flip the page.

‘My chest hurt this time, it was hot again.’

Avernus. Flip the page.

‘There was a lot of screaming too, I don’t know who was screaming.’

He should flip the page.

‘A little kid with one eye was staring at me, maybe she was screaming?’

FLIP THE PAGE

‘I’ve been stabbed, it wasn’t like that kind of hurt. It was deep between my ribs, like something was missing?’

FLIPTHEPAGEFLIPTHEPAGEFLIPTHEPAGE

His chest aches

Deep beneath his ribs

Like something’s missing.

He sees himself, sitting on the floor of his office, is it his office? His room? He’s not wholly sure actually, he was so focused on the visions he’d not fully processed how far he’d moved when he saw his si-

(DON’T THINK ABOUT FACES YOU PATHETIC WHELP)

Yes, pathetic. A feeble excuse of a paladin, a worse leader, he feels his breathing get heavy again.

He flips the page, and with it he is unceremoniously stuffed back into his corpse. Again, nausea, again, he pushes on.

‘I start martial training today! Real martial training! Not just father yelling at me and hitting me with sticks and stuff, I’ll get to use a real sword! I think I will anyway.’

That at least gives him a reference for how long it’s been, did he really use this journal for that long? He was 16 that day.

‘I don’t like the commander. He reminds me of father, mother says that’s a good thing. I do hope he actually teaches me something.’

He was taught plenty, a firm hand did him wonders.

Did his father not have a firm hand?

Perhaps he did, but his father said little to help him parse his mistakes.

When did he stop calling them dad and momma?

(When did he start forgetting things?)

Flip the page.

He’s at the end of the book.

The end of the book? There were many years of visions, they only recently stopped, he thinks in passing that it’s because he’s fast approaching the end of his life. Just over a decade between him and the average lifespan of a healthy tiefling, he’s hardly healthy, perhaps kelemvor will weigh his soul sooner for that.

… of all things to ponder and not react strongly to his own looming mortality certainly is something.

Perhaps he is just exhausted.

He lays back on the ground where he sat. He is home, he may lay wherever he likes. (A strange anxiety claws at him anyway)

His visions from when he was at the grove pull themselves to the front of his mind. Did he see this perhaps? A mess of a man laid on the floor focusing extraordinarily hard on not hyperventilating (again)

He didn’t.

He saw the pod though, of being an absolute thrall. The gap in his chest “filled” (filled with deceit and gore, ripped further open with dirty claws.)

He's glad of all things, of hundreds- perhaps thousands of visions he had been able to decipher that one. The first and last one he’d been able to.

He still couldn’t save them, he knew of her lies and he still fell to the influence of a tadpole he didn’t yet have. (And would never receive)

He sighs, and closes his eyes a moment, don’t think of faces.

Who are you looking at? His face is familiar yet distant, it’s been an age since you’ve seen him. (Has it?)

Halsin? Halsin. Former Archdruid, one of the group you have to thank for your (pathetic, doomed) life.

He is sad? He has certainly been crying. You are comfortable, your chest nor joints ache, there’s a soft pressure beneath you. Like a comfortable bed, but it presses too close to your shoulders to be a bed.

You are tired.

Another looks down at you, pale as a ghost. The vampire, you think. His name eludes you. You feel guilty, it passes quickly, as does he.

You are tired.

Yet another, with a false eye, Wyll. He smells of Avernus, the smell is uncomfortable but somehow not unpleasant. Then another behind him quickly, one horn and a booming voice. You can’t hear their words, but they’re both crying.

You are tired.

More come and go, you are tired. You cannot move, cannot blink. (Are your eyes even open?)

(they are now)

He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but he wakes up more sore than he wanted, with an awful headache and an odd, comforting calm. It’s rare that he doent’t remember his dreams, typically they sit vivid in his mind like memories would. He stands slowly, anticipating the nausea, the dizziness, the ache.

Nothing.

He pours out his chamber pot and returns it to its usual spot. The book remains on the ground.

He considers leaving it there, before tucking it into his desk.

His ribs begin to ache, it's manageable now. He’s not sure what changed.

As usual, he pushes on.

© cakeboxie •• 2024 •• Please do not translate/repost. reblogs are appreciated and requests are open!

Part of @eveningatthemoviesnetwork

~~

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[banefultyrant]

I was going to wait on this and another post until I had his carrd completely finished, but here we go.

Enver Gortash & Morality // @banefultyrant

So this has been prematurely kicked off by this post stating, "Tragic backstory explains behavior but does not excuse it."

This is so true, and especially in regards to this disaster dumpster fire of a human being. Because he isn't just a dumpster fire. He's this level of dumpster fire:

Now, to my point.

Enver Gortash—as he will absolutely refuse to acknowledge his original name because of everything tied up in it—has been through a lot. Though I can't remember if it was ever openly stated, I would absolutely agree with general fandom consensus that his mother abused him. I saw a post floating around the other day about the difference between how his parents are treated in game, and I couldn't agree more. [ If I can track the post down again, I'll link it here as well. ]

He was, seemingly at a young age, then sold to a warlock because his parents couldn't settle their debts the right way. Whether his mother is telling the truth or not, she claims she either sold him or they forfeit all of their lives over the shop debt. [ Also, who in the hell were they in debt to that their lives were at risk because of their debt??? Was it actually debt from the shop, or from drinking or gambling? Or did they take a loan from Dangerous People to keep their shop running??? ]

From there, he then ended up at the House of Hope, where he was canonically tormented and tortured by Nubaldin simply because he was 'mischievous' and because Nubaldin found it entertaining.

"I used to work in the prison, ensuring no desirable people left the House of Hope. Now, I guard the portals to ensure that no undesirable people enter." [ Why don't you work at the prison anymore? ] "I made a mistake. Raphael doesn't tolerate mistakes. We had one houseguest by the name of Gortash, a mischievous little blot of a boy, and he slipped through my fingers." [ Gortash was here? Lord Enver Gortash? ] "Lord? Is that what he calls himself these days? The sniveling little shit. He was the son of a cobbler or somesuch meagre tradesman, sold to Raphael by his loving parents to pay off their petty debt. Lord indeed. I used to bruise my knuckles on his whimpering little face. I'd like to have snapped his neck."

So he escapes that literal hell because he just can't take it anymore. He winds up on his own, with nothing but his cleverness and his drive to never be at anyone's mercy ever again.

[ A lot more below the cut. ]

Now, his mother claims he was evil from the start, but I've not once seen any dialogue options that support that. She says he was always making a racket. She says he was too clever. But she never offers anything even remotely adjacent to explain her claim that he was evil out the gate.

[ Perhaps because she was and she simply didn't care for a clever little boy asking questions, pointing out when she was being unreasonable, or saying that he didn't understand why he was being punished when he did something that he's done a thousand times before and she never said anything then, et cetera. Abusers can never have the problem. The other person has to be the problem. The villain. The complication. The scapegoat. There's something wrong with the other person and that's why they are perfectly justified in doing what they do. ]

Regardless, you have a young boy sold to a warlock and placed in the House of Hope, and was apparently a 'desirable person' based on the fact that Nubaldin was in charge of making sure none of those left and when Gortash escaped, Raphael considered it a failure.

[ Considering how foresighted Raphael is in terms of potential, it makes perfect sense to me that he might even have witnessed how clever the boy was once, perhaps he had even stopped by to make clear to his parents that their debt was owed and he would see it paid, one way or the other. Perhaps he saw how Enver was treated and found it contemptuous that such people should be able to waste so clever a mind. Or, perhaps the warlock had done so on his behalf and relayed such information to Raphael who then had them to pass along that he would accept the boy as payment.

Now, though I won't project my thoughts onto anyone else's Raphael, as for my own over at @thishouseofhope , while people claim that 'Raphael loves only himself' coughcoughHaarlepcoughcough, that isn't true. Or, at least, not entirely.

I think Raphael has a hard time connecting with others enough to care anything about them in actuality, yes. But I think where that starts to falter is in cases where he sees a bit of himself or his own situation reflected back at him. Would he admit that? No. But he sees it all the same, recognizes the similarities even if only subconsciously. And though I haven't gone into much detail with Raphael's early years over there yet, suffice it to say a brilliant, clever mind stifled by and suffering under the shortsightedness, derision, and abuse of a parental figure? It would definitely strike a nerve, whether he intended or not, whether he acknowledged it or not. HINT: He most certainly would not. ]

Within my own canon, this meant Raphael saw Enver and saw something of himself reflected in the boy and his situation, and, as such, there was a certain amount of fondness for him, particularly with the potential he could see for the boy's future with so sharp a mind. In a verse with my friend on discord who writes Enver, that included Raphael taking him on as a protege. Had it not been for Nubaldin's pointless cruelty, I have little doubt that Enver might have come to enjoy his time at the House of Hope, as Raphael would always provided new things for him to learn both of practical and educational import, and Enver, who was clever to start, would have jumped at the chance to learn anything and everything he could, particularly if Raphael caught onto his interest in mechanics. No doubt Nubaldin said that the boy simply escaped, otherwise, had Raphael realized the cause, I don't know that Nubaldin would have survived to tell the tale. ]

But, as always, because I can't help myself, I digress.

We have a young boy with promise and potential who ran because he was being abused again and was terrified of remaining where he was, who refused to be at the mercy of anyone else ever again and set his mind on making certain that it never would happen again.

At some point, he throws in his lot with Bane. He starts to accumulate wealth and power and influence through whatever means. His mind, his body, his blood and sweat [ but never tears, because he won't cry anymore, won't show that weakness ]. He will do whatever it takes to ensure that no one can ever harm him again, that no one has the power to do so. And how does one do that?

You make certain that you are the most powerful. Powerful enough that no one can touch you.

Free will, is the problem. That becomes evident to him shortly into his worship of Bane. No matter how many laws and rules and punishments exist, there will always be people who still choose to suffer them—because they could, because it was worth it, because they didn't care, because they didn't think they would be caught, et cetera. So long as free will might exist, then you would continue to have thieves and drunks and debtors and murderers and abusers.

So eventually, this plot of the Absolute is developed and! my! doesn't it solve it all! Not only does it set him in a place of power where nobody could touch him, it also solves all of those other pesky problems because there will be no more free will, only the will of the Absolute relayed to all of its subservients.

"A new age is upon us. Gods have mercy upon those who would stand in our way… I want to lead this city to glory — not scorch its earth."

When the player character approaches, Tav or Dark Urge, he talks about wanting to lead the city into an age of prosperity and safety, etc. And he isn't lying. He means every word.

Because, in his mind, this is the only way to reach that outcome. Does he want power? Yes, because, much as you hear the themes with Astarion's companion quest line: Power means safety. Power means no one can hurt you. Power means that you dictate the lives of others, rather than having your life dictated to you. To paraphrase, when the player character tells Astarion that those with power have a duty to protect those without, Astarion roughly responds, "People with power had 200 years to save me from Cazador, and no one ever did. No, it was the Mindflayers who freed me."

In all honesty, it's much the same for Gortash, except he was at an even greater disadvantage than Astarion in one respect—unless more information comes out about Astarion's past later—and that is this:

Enver Gortash has never known anything else. There is nothing before his abuse, before his servitude and continued abuse, before he set out into the world at a young age and suffered its cruelty on his own.

It is all that he has ever known.

But!

He sells Karlach to Zariel! Yes, just as he was sold, and yet, even still, this is done not out of malice or cruelty, but with the belief that he thought he was doing what was best for her. If she remained on the streets, she would either be jailed or dead in a few years, and she deserved better than that. Being sold to a devil was what set him on his 'right' path, made him who he is, so maybe that's what Karlach needed also? And, knowing her as he did, he truly had no doubt that she could be running the place in no time. She would have power enough to protect herself, just as he intended to claim for himself at the Gate, and it would mean they could be allies. He set a piece in the right place and if she would just do as she ought to have done, she could be doing so much better for herself — just as he has.

He was going to kill the refugee children! In his mind, most of them miserable little orphans with no prospects beyond pain and suffering. It would be a mercy to them, truly, and—as my friend, Shadow, mentioned in one of our discussions about Gortash's thoughts on this—their deaths would at least mean something in the grand scheme, rather than their bodies simply being stepped over and promptly forgotten. Their deaths would sow discord between the refugees and the citizens of the Gate, further unite those within against those without and solidify his position as a protector. With any luck, the refugees would attack in retaliation and affirm the citizens fears that they were followers of the Absolute threat after all. And regardless of how it went, it would create further chaos that he would be able to bring to Order.

This is NOT to say that his behavior should be excused.

However, much in the same way and for the same reason that I would defend Minthara and Nere both, I can fully understand his thought process, why he does what he does, though I certainly don't agree with it. Just as with them, I would question the level of accountability one can be held to when one knows no different. I would very much, in some ways, say that Gortash is nearer to having had a Lolth-sworn drow upbringing than a typical human one. His entire understanding of the world is through abuse, violence, betrayal, and transactional interactions. His solution—the Absolute religious hoax—is one that makes perfect sense within those bounds. It's logical, nice and neat. A brilliant plan, cutting the problems that plague the city—and, indeed, the world—off right at the source.

There won't be anymore murders in the streets. There won't be anymore pickpockets or petty crime. There won't be anymore gambling dens. There won't be anymore children abused or sold to settle debts. There won't be anymore crime, period.

The populace can put all of its effort and energy into making the city more unified and prosperous than it ever has been —

Because that is the only choice they have left to them.

[ Doesn't that sound familiar? "She is, of course, free to choose the only option she has left." ]

In his mind, how brilliant and elegant an answer to those pesky problems that no amount of laws or punishments have ever stopped! A villain? No! He's the savior who will deliver this city to a new age! A great age!

[ And doesn't that sound familiar, too? ]

In the words of Jason Isaacs himself, "It was a thrill to join the Baldur's Gate universe, but I fear that the magnificent Lord Enver Gortash is being mischaracterized as a villain. In a brutal world of betrayals and butchery, he's learned to lie better and backstab first. The joy in voicing him — apart from the obvious pleasure in getting to look so glorious — was that the creative team and I got to play loose enough to find ways that he could enjoy the ride and make the players hate him more!"

Enver Gortash has done terrible and unforgivable things, much as with most of the cast in the game, companions or otherwise…. but the whys. The whys are important, and the whys are what not only further show the depth of the character… but also provide interesting possibilities for futures wherein he escapes his fate in the game.

[catharsis-in-a-bottle]

what does tillie walden do?

i don't know.

i just finished 'are you listening?' and it left me with the same exact unidentifiable shrimp emotion that this beautiful author bestowed upon me with on a sunbeam and the end of summer. i want to curl up in a blanket and cry. i want to draw. i don't even know what this book has done to me. i want to know how tillie walden captures something [this unidentifiable but very present feeling] that no other work of art has captured for me.

are you listening? follows two women through their road trip through western texas, both traumatized and both hurting. one older and more experienced, one freshly eighteen and emotionally raw from years of sexual abuse. the road trip is the story's through line - they find a cat and the landscape begins to shift, becoming more indistinct and unreal as they travel further - but the body of the story is the characters themselves. i think the thing that gets me overall is that the characters don't mark the strangeness of the shifting landscape until well after it begins. even then, it isn't their main focus - they focus on the rawness of their pain and the friendship they find in each other. what does this do? it captures the experience of deep emotional pain, the experience wherein the world doesn't feel real - the world is already warped into darkness in your vision. the true landscape change thus becomes irrelevant to the characters - it's a product of pain. it's just how they see the world. absorption in one's thoughts makes any external weirdness perfectly possible.

to add to all of this, both the characters are gay, a fact that tillie walden so beautifully incorporates into their personalities and experiences. the warping of the world sees strangers - men in particular - become shadows, silhouettes, looming figures defined only by too-large, colorful eyes. (i think this reflects the common queer experience of not knowing who can be trusted with the knowledge of our identities. and personally, i know that when i'm in a shitty mood and am overthinking my own identity, the surrounding world begins to feel like a bunch of untrustworthy strangers.)

the landscape itself also adds to the deep isolation of this graphic novel. yes, the characters are alone on a road trip with only a cat to keep them company, but the surrounding world is also huge and foreign and unreal. they are alone with each other. to me, their own pain and this isolation compound each other; i felt myself slipping further into walden's constructed darkness as i read.

and at the end, there's hope. the world is dark and that darkness is inescapable, and then at the end of it all, the characters continue on with their lives, changed for the better.

IT MAKES ME INSANE.

tillie walden did the same thing with on a sunbeam. a group of space travelers isolated on their ship, exploring strange buildings and ultimately venturing into a strange, unknowable landscape (The Staircase). a group of travelers bonded by pain. a group of queer travelers bonded by their love for one another. a world that is fundamentally built upon queerness - upon lesbians, upon trans people. i think the recipe is ultimately similar to are you listening? pain + isolation + queerness + found family = a reader response of despair, catharsis, hope, tears.

perhaps my own response stems from the fact that on the deepest level, i most relate to the struggles of butch lesbians, if i am being entirely real with myself. what does tillie walden do? she knocks it out of the fucking park and writes a type of very real-feeling queer darkness that caters to me specifically. (chomp chomp.) but apart from my own shrimp emotions, she's also just a really fucking good storyteller. a brilliant artist, a brilliant character creator, a brilliant writer. and her graphic novels are really fucking brilliant books.

[shinehyuk]

amour non-réciproque | yoo kihyun

| Genre : yandere, angst, requested

ㅡ Summary : after all that he has done, it's nothing more than one-sided love.

Word Count : 1.2k

tw/cw : abuse, a lot of murder, obsession, heavy themes, toxic relationships, strong language, violence, blood, s/o death (lightly described), please do not read if uncomfortable/sensitive! i do not support the behavior portrayed in this work!

amour non-réciproque : one-sided love (thank you @effulgentfireflies for the help with translation!!<3)

39. “Why can't you love me?”

Everyone knows that sometimes, you have to walk over some corpses to get to the top.

The saying perfectly applies to Yoo Kihyun; although perhaps a little too literally.

Oh, if only you knew just how much he has done for you. He's the sole reason you stay safe during your daily night walks; the reason that no dirty bastards have harmed your fragile little heart yet. It's almost like he's your guardian angel, being with you every step of the way and protecting you like his own life depends on it.

To him, it's quite romantic. But would you say the same if you knew the truth? To you, he may be no one important, but to him, you're his entire world.

Therefore, he decided to confess.

He'll confess both everything that he's done for you and his feelings for you. Surely you can forgive him even if you were a bit lonely because of the male removing everyone from your life if he only tells you about his true feelings, can't you? He's sure of it; after all, you're the sweetest, kindest person that ever stepped on this earth – everyone else is filled with toxicity, dirty and impure, but you're different from them.

The day heavy rain was pouring, you gave him your only umbrella without hesitation, running home while holding your hands over your head in an attempt to stop the rain from falling on you even if it barely helped at all – you ran off even before the male could gather up the proper words to thank you.

The day he forgot to bring his food with him, you shared your lunch with him without ever wanting anything in return.

You are simply too kind for this world.

But if you accept his confession, he's going to make sure that no one will ever harm you.

Today was the perfect day to confess. You probably wouldn't know it, but today you met for the very first time; Kihyun fell in love with you at first sight, enthralled by your beauty and charm. Today was basically your anniversary, and that's why he planned to make this day special by telling you everything that he's always wanted to say.

He waited until it was midnight, so just in case something went awry, the absence of light at such a late time could help him.

The male rang the bell to your apartment, his hands slightly shaking from the nervousness that built up inside him with every second. He's never felt this anxious before, but he was also excited to see your reaction.

Seeing who it was, you cautiously opened the door, lazily rubbing your sleepy eyes. The smell of his cologne stunned you; whatever it was that he was here for, he definitely wanted to look and smell his best for it.

"..Kihyun? Why are you out this late?" You asked, your confusion only growing stronger as the male handed you an elegant bouquet of beautiful red roses. "..Uh, thank you..?"

"May I come in?"

"Well, I don't know–"

"It's important."

You sighed, taking the roses and letting him in. The male has never been to your apartment before. Or that's what you thought, at least. You picked out a proper vase for the flowers, filling it up with water so they would not wilt so easily.

"So, what's so important I can't sleep?"

"Let's sit down."

You went to the living room together, the male instantly finding the light switch. You frown, but decided not to think anything about it. You were far too tired to have any proper thoughts right now anyways.

"Do you trust me?" He asked once you both got more comfortable, sitting before each other.

You gulp. This was definitely not going in a good direction. What were you supposed to answer, especially in the middle of the night? The honest answer would be no; you didn't trust him at all. You've been seeing him in places that he shouldn't be in – your friends that told you they suspected that he was following you around have mysteriously disappeared, and everything in your body screams at you to run whenever you're around him. Would he leave you alone if you told him you didn't trust him? Or perhaps you'd just be risking making him angry?

"W-Well, I don't know" You laughed nervously as you clenched your hands, feeling his intense stare on you. "We don't know each other that well yet, do we?"

He sighed; it was clearly not the answer he was expecting, but he didn't comment on it, moving on.

"The truth is," He started. "I have been interested in you for some time"

"Well, I'm–" He stopped you before you answered, clicking his tongue.

"Just listen to me," He pleaded. "After everything I've done for you, the least you can do is listen, can't you?"

…

"Good." He sighed, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. "Ah– where should I start? What do you think happened to your former lover?"

"Why are you bringing this up..?" Your hands were shaking, but you tried not to let him see your growing fear. "T-They moved out–"

"I killed them."

"What?"

He chuckled, enjoying the startled look on your face. You were frozen in shock as he came up to you, getting a hold of your chin and forcing you to look up at him, your face suddenly dangerously close to his. His thumb ran over your lips, the male sighing out in satisfaction. Oh, how long he has waited for this exact moment.

"I killed everyone you once loved." He declared. "Your friends, the people who hurt you. I did it all for you"

"Y-You're lying!"

"Is that what you really think?" He asked.

Silence followed his question, warm tears starting to run down your cheeks.

"P-Please, Kihyun, I beg you, leave me alone"

"Are you scared, my love?" He cocked a brow. "I would never hurt you. I won't let anything or anyone harm you." He assured, but it did not make you feel better at all.

"Please– Say you love me" The male caressed your cheek, his eyes hopeful. "You do love me, right, my love?"

"Go to hell!" You pushed him away and tried to kick him, but the male dodged, getting annoyed. "You're a fucking psychopath; leave me the fuck alone! I'll never love you!"

..What?

The male froze. You don't love him.

He sniggered, his eyes darkening as he grabbed you harshly, pushing you against the wall. "After everything I've fucking done for you," He growled. "This is what you do? Not even a 'thank you'? Why can't you love me?"

You answered with a desperate sob, weakly trying to fight him off. He only saw fright and hate in your eyes; so you really didn't feel anything for him. He breathed out shakily, carefully considering his next move.

He really did not want to resort to hurting you, but you leave him no choice. This is not the person he loves anymore. The person he loves is kind, unlike the person before him.

"We'd be so happy together, my love" He sighed, reaching for his back pocket. "But you just had to ruin everything"

You screamed, pain spreading throughout your body as you slowly started going weak, Kihyun gently seating you on the floor while still holding you in his arms. "Goodbye," He smiled sadly, kissing you for the first and last time.

"My love."

It wasn't long until silence filled the room, the male sighing deeply as he laid your head on the floor, softly closing your eyes with his hand.

It was the end of everything; as well as his one-sided love.

thank you for requesting! i hope you liked it <3

‣ Taglist : @atiny-chocolate-chip @lmaoskz @sunoo-bby  @heemingyu @nikipedia07 @effulgentfireflies

[whisperprime]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

Silence falls over them both.

Then: "He said he was destroying a timeline? Those words?"

Hob takes a shuddering breathe. Feels like he's taken a step back from a ledge. He nods.

Dream falls silent again, mulling over this.

When it doesn't seem like he's going to be more forthcoming, Hob chances, "Do you have an idea of who he could have been?"

Silence, still. Dream will either answer or he will not. His friend, whose gaze has been distant in his pondering, focuses back on him. A decision has clearly been made, as he says, “A Herald of Destruction, perhaps. They are quite rare.”

Hob snorts. “Rare? There’s some bloke going on about the coming Domesday every other week.” When Dream gives him a look, as if he thought better of him, Hob reconsiders. “I take it these aren’t human?”

Dream’s expression smooths at the better response. “True Heralds are rare. They only appear at turning points of major events, when you still have the chance to turn back.”

This one was a bit late then. “This one seemed to think the only solution was either time travel,” Hob holds up his right hand, to indicate the one option. Holds up his left as he adds, “Or destruction of the universe.”

A frown. The Endless across from him hadn’t missed that either. “Yes. It is quite concerning.”

Hob mulls over this new information. Dream had said ‘destruction’ as if he were referring to his little brother and not just the general idea itself. Were they part of his realm, like Dreams and Nightmares were part of the Dream’s realm? How concerning was it that something might have gone wrong in Destruction’s absence?

Hob felt a sudden chill, Death’s words coming back to him.

My brother sought out Destruction. He did not come out unscathed.

Has Hob somehow insured that his friend would have more reason to seek out is wayward brother? The Other Man - The Herald of Destruction? - had warned that the timeline might bend and attempt to correct itself for everything they changed.

Would his desire to see Dream again doom him all the faster?

“Hob Gadling?”

Hob jerks, snapping out of his thoughts. “Sorry.” He clears his throat. “Sorry, just lost in thought. Did you say something?”

Dream tilts his head in that way that always reminds him of a bird. “I asked if he did anything else, before he sent you back.”

You have been missing in ways you should not have.

Right.

He remembers the dread of those first two decades. Waking and feeling something was off. He remembers standing outside the throne room and wanting nothing more to step through it, but not daring because if Dream had looked at him, had looked right through him--. 

“There was a seal.”

“A seal?”

“A seal that would hide me from the Endless.” Hob sneered at nothing in particular. “I don’t think he trusted me to keep up with my end of the bargain.”

A thought occurs to him. Compells him to confess because he wants no misunderstandings. "There's something else you should know."

Dreams gaze sharpened. 

Hob takes a deep breathe. Breathes through the worry that claws at his throat. He has no clue how the Dream Lord will take this news. "I still had access to your realm. I came every night, but no one could see me." He meets his friend's gaze head on and will face whatever response he gets. "I had more access than I should have and I apologize. I swear I did not abuse it or use it to spy on you or your subjects."

He knows how his friend wears his anger. Sees it as he stills, stone like and just as cold.

Hob holds perfectly still. He has done nothing wrong, not intentionally. He had no control over this.

But will Dream see it as such?

Slowly, as if they were dragged from him, Dream says, "The Dreaming can be dangerous to those who wander if carelessly."

Hob is all too aware. Thinks he only survived some of the places he'd dropping into because the realm hadn't actually registered him being there. "I tried my best to stick to safe places, like Fiddler's Green, if I could. Tried to just ride it out if I couldn't get there."

Dream does not seem thrilled with the idea that there are possibly dreamers in The Dreaming he does not know about. He also doesn't seem to find the idea surprising.

Hob wonders what disasters have befallen those who tread where they shouldn't have.

Dream is silent for another long stretch. Then, "You have been missing since 1916."

"Yes," confirms Hob.

"I saved you from men trying to drown you. Where have you been since 1916, Hob Gadling?"

He does not think he can hide the full details forever, if Dream really wants to know, he can find out so very easily. Hob's own sleeping mind will betray him almost certainly.

But he does wish to try.

"Does it matter?" Hob does not plead, he would never. If Dream pushes he will answer, but he hopes he doesn't. "It is done. My task was fulfilled and the seal is gone. There's no more danger from me to your realm."

Hob thought Dream had been still before. It is nothing compared to the way he seems to close off in response to this. All of it gone behind shutters even Hob can see through.

"Is that the only reason you think I am here?"

"What?" Hob blinks at him, not baffled, but also nit quite daring to hope.

Dream stands abruptly, startling his guest. Hob watchs him warily, something he has not done since their 1889 meeting. The Dream Lord's lips tightens ever so slightly at the expression.

"You have given me much to think of." He gestures to the room around them. "You may continue to use this house until you are comfortable with reentering the world."

Hob's stomach drops. "You're leaving?"

Dream's gaze is distant, gone off somewhere Hob could never follow. "There are things I must attend to. Farewell, Hob Gadling."

Why does that sound so final?

Will I see you again, Hob tries to ask.

Fails to ask.

Chokes out, instead, "Safe travels."

Dream gives him a nod, almost an after thought. A habitual response.

Hob does not even blink. Dream is simple there one moment and then gone the next. The air wasn't even disturbed.

It was like he was never there to begin with.

Hob presses his hands into the cushion beneath him, grounding himself in the reality of it. Continued to state into the space his friend who is not his friend was just inhabiting.

The house was real.

Dream had been real.

He has done his task. The world will keep turning. Dream is gone and maybe never coming back, but Hob once again exists in a reality that holds his friend in it.

It has to be enough.

So why doesn't it feel like it's enough?

Part 10

[aneveningsword]

I love the sub, Jordan's story, and I was hoping you do the male Jordan one too, but only if you still want ❤️

Of course Anon! This version starts off the same but turns to masc Jordan

pairing: Jordan Li x gn!reader warnings: not proofread, smut words: 1092 summary: basically the ask

masterlist

You had always felt secure in your relationship with Jordan, you knew they would never cheat because they knew no one could fuck them as good as you. While your relationship just started as a way to let off stress for the both of you, it soon developed into true feelings. You knew you liked Jordan more than a fuck buddy and they knew they liked you more too. Yet, the pair of you were hesitant to put a label on what you had, afraid it might ruin things.

It wasn't unusual for your small friend group to frequent clubs and bars at night, looking for a different way to release all the stress from school. Most of the time you simply frequent the bar, eyes watching over the crowd, only dancing when Cate or Marie would come over and drag you into the crowd, not that you minded.

But tight there was a sight that made the grip on your drink a little tighter, had your jaw locked in anger. It wasn't often that people approached Jordan, it was a bit of a surprise given how attractive they were. But you guessed it had to do with the way they always seemed annoyed and disinterested in everything around them.

But it seemed someone was feeling brave tonight, perhaps aided by some liquid courage. You watched their hands roam a little too low as they danced with Jordan, how they were whispering filthy things in their ear hoping to get a reaction. You couldn't get a clear read on Jordan's face, but it was clear they didn't dislike the attention they were receiving.

Downing the rest of your drink, you made your way through the crowd, eyes never leaving the pair. Upon reaching them your hand would interlace with Jordan's as you pulled them to your side in one swift movement. A noise of surprise left them, but their words died in their throat as they took note of the jealousy swirling in your eyes as you stared at them.

"You mind? We were chatting." The harsh voice of the drunkard abused your eyes as you looked at them unamused. You wished you had the power to blow up people with your eyes, but sadly you were not graced with such a gift. Leaving you to settle for the harsh glare and burning hate that were in your eyes.

"Yeah? Sure didn't look like it." Jordan was silent next to you, hand still wrapped in yours. This was a part of their little plan to get you to fuck their brains out tonight. Get you all jealous and riled up, by entertaining some drunk idiot, and it had worked perfectly.

"Come on." Your voice left no room for argument as you basically dragged a grinning Jordan out of the club. You had barely a few meters from the club before you pulled them down an alley and pushed them against the brick wall. The noise from the club could still be heard despite the thick wall.

"You're such a fucking slut." Your voice is low, face so close that if they pushed forward just a little they could capture their lips with yours. But you knew that, hand on their hips holding them in place to make sure they didn't try and ruin your fun.

"Hmm? So fucking desperate that you'd go home with anyone?" The question brought a small frown to their face but you knew there was no negative emotion behind it. "No, I just-" They began in an attempt to defend themself but you quickly cut them off. "Just what? Wanted to make me jealous? Well, consider it done."

Within an instant your lips were on theirs in a passionate kiss, the hand on their hip pulling their body flush against yours, as your free hand rests on the side of their neck to deepen the kiss. Their hand tangles in your hair, and a soft moan escape them from the contact. This is what they had been wanting all night.

Breaking the kiss, your mouth began to trail kiss along their neck, leaving small bites here and there pulling soft noises from Jordan. You feel their hands begin to drift over your body, hands finding the helm of your shirt as they begin to lift it up hoping to slip their hands under. Detaching from them your hands wrap over theirs, stopping their action.

A small, mocking pout plays on your lips as you speak "I don't think I remember saying you could touch me. You wanna be a brat, I'll treat you like a brat." Your voice is stern as you pull their hands from your shirt. One hand moves to grope their bludge while the other hangs onto one of their hands. While this was just meant to be a quick fuck, you knew Jordan liked to feel your hands intertwined together. The action grounded them as things got heated.

Your lips are back on their as you shallow their moans, sandwiching them between your body and the wall. You began to palm their erection through the rough material of their pants. You know they would want nothing more than for you to free their cock and give them a proper handjob right in this filthy alley. But you weren't one to give in to their wants so easily.

"...I..." Jordan's voice comes out airy, mouth opening and closing like a fish as they struggle to form a sentence. "What is it, baby?" Your voice sounds so innocent as you begin leaving marks on their neck. "Tell me what you want."

"...Yo-You... want you." A satisfied hum is pulled from your lips as your hands begin to fumble pulling their pants down just enough to be able to free their aching cock. Your body is pressed impossibly close to them keeping them as close to the wall as you can as your hands dip into the waistband of their boxers giving some release to their thick cock.

You're hand begins to work along their shaft, pulling the most delicious sounds from them. Jordan's face contorted into bliss, head back slightly as they tried not to be too loud. Your free hand cups their face as you pull them into a kiss, the other hand still working on their cock. You knew it wasn't long before Jordan came right then and there, after a couple more pumps your hand left them.

"You really think I was going to let you off that easy? Baby, you've been bad."

[tamlinsimp]

This followed after Rhysand expressed not wanting to be a HL too. She went there. This girl went there and brought Tamlin even lower.  Tamlin has completely changed the way Spring Court is governed. During TAR, Tamlin mentioned not believing in enforcing ranks. His father was known for abusing power and his brutality. Hence his close ties with Hybern and Amarantha. His father killed humans. Tamlin, is about one of the few HLs, who have been shown to have remorse for humans. There are evidence to back this up sprinkled all over TAR.  Not to mention that he fell in love with a human. Tamlin CHANGED a lot in Spring court. He had a vision. A vision different than his father’s. 

“With the will and desire and passion to do it”  idk. So much desire and passion yet he hasn’t done squat to change HC or Illyria. People have mentioned that he could not due to ancient treaties, etc. Um no. Rhysand has broken numerous sacred Prythian laws, rules, and treaties. He may as well do the same to actually change and do something about the oppression happening in his court.  Also, I thought this was worth noting, Rhysand in TAR:  “No—and how could he? Not with the shame of his father and brothers’ brutality always weighing on him, the poor, noble beast. But perhaps if he’d bothered to learn a thing or two about cruelty, about what it means to be a true High Lord, it would have kept the Spring Court from falling.” This isn’t Rhysand with his fake persona on. We were shown that he actually rules this way. He’s perfectly okay with Az torturing for information. His governing over Hewn City is based on intimidation and violence. For example, he broke Kier’s arm for calling Feyre a wh/ore. There is no sense of comradery between him and those running HC and illyria for him, but mainly a relationship where one is feared and one is afraid. Rhysand governs using scare tactics everywhere else in his court but Velaris. And he actually uses this as well towards the whole Prythian. Hence, why he feels the need to maintain being so cunning and brutal so that he remains respected out of fear. 

[monstersinthecosmos]

(1/2) hi i'm liking your more nuanced take on amc lestat/louis! most of what i've seen in the tags is about how cute they are as a couple, or talking about how completely in love lestat looks with louis, and like... y’all are forgetting that lestat is at this point a vampire and louis is a human; there’s a power imbalance there from the get go, and lestat being oh so infatuated with louis is actually him hungering for louis’s blood lol. like lestat is completely my favourite but he’s a vampire

(2/2) and therefore first and foremost a predator. that scene where lestat watches make out with the girl? assuming that this scene takes place when louis is still human, the only thing lestat would care about in that situation is blood. and he looks fucking MENACING in that scene, and sam reid played that perfectly. and louis looks appropriately wary!

Ahh thank you!

This isn’t exactly what your ask is about but I do want to take this moment to say for context that I am *not* complaining at all about any of this stuff in the show. I've gotten a little bit of shit about it lately because people keep taking me out of context and acting like I'm complaining LOL. I’m really into it, actually, it’s one of the redeeming aspects for me because I’ve felt very suspicious about how heavily they’ve restructured the characters. I’ve seen a lot of conversations on different social media that are praising the show for watering down the problematic elements in the novel(s) and like. I’m just not seeing that for Loustat really? It’s been a little confusing to see people talk about how romantic they are while simultaneously criticizing other ships in the series or AR herself for being a monster. 

In fact, even the small bits from the trailers & interviews tell me that perhaps Loustat is EVEN WORSE than the book. (Minus the Claudia thing, we’ll see how that shakes out!) 

Like having said that, I am hoping that there is nuance to the way they portray abuse because it is being marketed as a romance. This team has a history of making shows about evil protagonists and toxic masculinity so it’s probably in the right hands hahaha but it’s always worth trying to figure out which of the bad stuff is the writer and which is the character. IE: Make Loustat toxic as fuck, but be intentional. I would hate to see them create this relationship without understanding how awful it is, and I was a little concerned about that because of some of the comments RJ has said about who Lestat is as a character.

For example, one of the red flags I got was the comment that the show is going to be more faithful to the characters than the movie was because they have a bigger picture for Lestat and have all the books to draw on? I don’t think that makes a difference.

Lestat is already charming in IWTV, it’s why Louis falls for him. Being charming is how abusers get their foot in the door. We get those moments in IWTV and we also see the complicated grief that Louis deals with when they go to Europe. Idk how Show Louis is gonna be but Book Louis is a person who is often driven by feelings of guilt as well as pressure to take care of others, so I think this really tracks with people who grieve after abusive relationships because when you love your abuser you always wish for the best and want them to grow out of it. 

I think especially after what he goes through with Paul that there are parts of Louis that feel responsible for fixing Lestat or making the situation better. I would say we even see this when they reunite at the concert. IMO Lestat hasn’t really done anything extremely meaningful to deserve Louis’s forgiveness at this point, but Louis is roused by the sense of danger or the threat that he might truly lose Lestat forever again. If my thoughts about Louis wishing Lestat the best and wanting him to heal are true, of COURSE it would get him right in the heart when he reads Lestat's book and finally understands why he's like that. It sort of hits refresh on the resentment and now Louis can attempt again with more context. IT'LL BE DIFFERENT THIS TIME, HONESTLY!

And we see this during many of Lestat’s adventures (his suicide attempt, the body swap, Memnoch, Amel) so Louis is constantly being reintroduced to that danger and guilt. And even in TOBT when Louis tries to have boundaries with him and do the right thing, Lestat burns his house down! 

Louis has spent 200 years trying and trying and trying to help this poor dude and be there for him in whatever ways he can and he does it at his own expense because Lestat never really changes.

So to say that the other books tell us more about who Lestat is doesn’t make a ton of sense to me; I think they offer us his backstory, which is certainly more information about him and adds context to WHY he behaves the way he does, but his trauma and baggage are not an excuse to harm people. And he continues to harm people, even up until the droit du seigneur line in Prince Lestat. Abusers often want to apologize loudly and publicly to OTHERS aside from the people they’ve hurt because they don’t truly feel remorse but simply don’t want others to think badly about them. It’s about ego. Lestat framing himself as a victim in the other books or making excuses for his own behavior is not a meaningful apology as much as it’s about his ego and not wanting people to think he’s a bad person. If he felt remorse he’d knock it off, and it’s important to me that he’s still acting this way up to the new trilogy.

But I’m firmly on team LOUIS IS TELLING THE TRUTH and I think Lestat tells on himself many many times in the rest of the series, and when you read IWTV as being a story about surviving abuse it always kinda rubs the wrong way when people accuse him of lying. It starts leaning into some really nasty tropes & real world stigmas that FEEL BAD, MAN.  

ANYWAY I bring that all up to say that I’m really pleased by how they look in the trailers because I’ve been nervous about the showrunners engaging in LESTAT APOLOGISM with some of these comments. They said that they’re trying to keep it character faithful even though there’s so many radical other changes to the structure of the story and to me I think this is like really integral to who Lestat is as a person. It’s something he struggles with and to me I feel that all his books are about how he still wants to be loved even though he’s imperfect and fucks up and is a brat and breaks rules and hurts people. So like what’s the conflict if he’s not an asshole? Of course we’d just love him.

I know a lot of the book stuff isn’t extremely relevant because the show is so unrelated anyway, but again as far as character beats go I think this stuff really matters. Even if they remix the stories, I’m hoping this is the source they stick to. Lestat is a mess who makes it everyone else’s problem, Louis is a romantic guilt-riddled Catholic who will always chose hard paths for himself because he thinks he deserves it. 

So I’m not complaining at all about it ! I want to see this on screen because it’s true to who they are. Some of the conversations about it just really surprised me. 

But OMG! !! 

It’s same with Hannibal LMAO like that show was RADICALLY different from the books except it made the Hannigram ship EVEN WORSE HAHA. I want that for IWTV, honestly. It’ll be wild! But I just hope it’s intentional and we’re not like creating more victim blaming on survivors by insisting over and over and over that Louis was lying or that he’s unreliable. It’s very fine and excellent to show that Lestat doesn’t think he did anything wrong and different to tell the audience that he didn’t do anything wrong. 

Whew.

I’m so happy for all the excited shippers LOL  I hope everyone is having fun! I’m still over in the corner crying about Daniel, don’t let me ruin the party. 

[esther-dot]

Hi again. What I meant when I said that Cersei played a key role in entrapping Sansa into sexual abuse by Tyrion was the charade she put on with tricking Sansa into putting on the new gown and getting dressed up, and then having her dragged to the sept to be married.

Perhaps she was ordered to do this by Tywin and didn't have much choice, and I might feel differently or be more forgiving if I'd gotten some sense that she felt guilty about it and didn't want to do it, but I don't get that from her at all in that scene. She seemed happy and unrepentant enough to set Sansa up like that, even knowing she was preparing Sansa to be sexually abused. And, given that Cersei has canonically wished sexual violence on other women, I find it hard to believe she wasn't perfectly okay with what she was doing to Sansa.

I agree completely that the bulk of blame lies with Tywin and with Tyrion and I don't by any means let them off the hook, but that doesn't absolve Cersei for the part she played either. I'm not prepared to give her a pass for it just because she wasn't as guilty as others.

Thank you for answering my other ask, and for giving me a chance to explain further. Thank you also for explaining your side of things. I do understand where you're coming from. I think, for my part, I stopped feeling a visceral repulsion to some of Sansa's other threats, like Tyrion, once they were separated, because even if he has some bitter thoughts about her, he isn't trying to have her killed like Cersei is, so he no longer invokes that feeling in me. You and I are, however, in complete, unconditional agreement about Littlefinger. Can't wait for that fucker to die.

(continuation of this convo)

Ah! I see. I waited to respond to this until I could reread that ASOS chapter because sometimes my impression from what I read is not the same as what is actually written, but first I’d say, Cersei is the reason Sansa is a hostage. Ned gave her the chance to save her children, and she repaid that by abusing the trust Sansa had in her, taking and holding Sansa hostage, and sitting by while she was routinely beaten and threatened by her son/his men. So, in a sense, yes, Cersei played a major role in Sansa being forced to marry a Lannister. In ADWD she mentions that even though she never would have killed Ned, they still would have married Sansa off to a Lannister, so Cersei is by no means innocent when it comes to Sansa’s suffering.

However, if we are speaking specifically of who did what when it comes to forcing Sansa to marry Tyrion, this statement, “Cersei played a key role in entrapping Sansa into sexual abuse” feels like an overstatement, or, maybe a misdirect? Cersei’s presence makes for an interesting scene, but your statement implies that Sansa wouldn’t have been forced into this marriage without Cersei’s contribution which I don’t think is true. 

LF is the one who revealed the plan to get Sansa away from the Lannisters:

When Lord Tywin nodded, he continued. "And there is this—Lord Petyr continues to demonstrate his loyalty. Only yesterday he brought us word of a Tyrell plot to spirit Sansa Stark off to Highgarden for a 'visit,' and there marry her to Lord Mace's eldest son, Willas." (ASOS, Tyrion III)

As soon as Tywin knows he determines to secure her. I think it was a done deal right then. This is after Cersei commissioned the dress, so I don’t see that as some elaborate trap by Cersei when she and Tyrion didn’t know anything until this chapter. Unless there is speculation that she did? If that’s the theory, I’m unaware. Later Cersei thinks this:

It came back to her that Margaery and her hideous grandmother had once plotted to marry Sansa Stark to the little queen's crippled brother Willas. Lord Tywin had forestalled that by stealing a march on them and wedding Sansa to Tyrion, but the link had been there. They are all in it together, she realized with a start. The Tyrells bribed the gaolers to free Tyrion, and whisked him down the roseroad to join his vile bride. By now the both of them are safe in Highgarden, hidden away behind a wall of roses. (AFFC, Cersei VI)

From my perspective, whether Cersei was the one who broke the news to Sansa or someone else, there was no escaping this. Tyrion (or another Lannister) was going to marry Sansa. Cersei had no power over Tywin’s decisions there anymore than she had power over her own fate. I don’t think that makes Cersei any less evil, as I already pointed out, Sansa is in KL because of Cersei, but I think it’s a stretch to say that guards wouldn’t have been sent to fetch Sansa whether Cersei first dressed her or not.

There is a trend in the fandom in which, in any given scenario, Cersei is presented as the most guilty Lannister. I understand that you are trying to not do that, but your statement regarding this specific situation feels slightly imbalanced  when we have actual dialogue between Tywin and Tyrion not only about the marriage but about impregnating Sansa. Those are conversations between them, actions that they take, desires that Tyrion has--for Sansa herself and for Winterfell. The reason Tyrion nearly sleeps with Sansa is because of Tywin’s orders, so again, I find placing blame for that specifically on Cersei inaccurate. Cersei is complicit, obviously, she makes no effort to help Sansa, but to say that she was “key” to this? I think you take Cersei out of that chapter, Sansa still marries Tyrion, Tyrion still tries to consummate that marriage.

In my memory, Cersei took a lot of cruel pleasure in Sansa’s fate, but rereading there really isn’t much Cersei. There is much more focus put on how cruel Joffrey is, how he is terrorizing Sansa, and knowing that it is Tywin, not Cersei, who arranged the wedding, and Tyrion who has Sansa strip for him and wants to have sex with her, I think zeroing in on Cersei’s role in Sansa’s trauma in this specific instance wasn’t the author’s goal. We all focus on different things when reading, so obviously we’ll come away with unique interpretations, but I don’t think I agree with the amount of blame you want to place on her here.

I agree that she was complicit, that if Cersei were a good person, she might have helped Sansa escape, but none of us think she’s actually good, that isn’t the claim. She was really upset about the idea of Sansa escaping her by getting married to Willas, she wanted her to stay in KL, so I assume she was pretty happy with this solution. There are references to her smiling but she is always smiling around Sansa. So perhaps we “hear” her differently when reading. I find her very matter of fact, even when discussing a horrible reality. Even when it comes to Joffrey when you’d expect her to be less aware since she is so out of touch regarding him, but even there, she just states thins:

"Different how?"

"I don't know. Less . . . less messy, and more magical."

Queen Cersei laughed. "Wait until you birth a child, Sansa. A woman's life is nine parts mess to one part magic, you'll learn that soon enough . . . and the parts that look like magic often turn out to be messiest of all." She took a sip of milk. "So now you are a woman. Do you have the least idea of what that means?"

"It means that I am now fit to be wedded and bedded," said Sansa, "and to bear children for the king."

The queen gave a wry smile. "A prospect that no longer entices you as it once did, I can see. I will not fault you for that. Joffrey has always been difficult. Even his birth . . . I labored a day and a half to bring him forth. You cannot imagine the pain, Sansa. I screamed so loudly that I fancied Robert might hear me in the kingswood."

"His Grace was not with you?"

"Robert? Robert was hunting. That was his custom. Whenever my time was near, my royal husband would flee to the trees with his huntsmen and hounds. When he returned he would present me with some pelts or a stag's head, and I would present him with a baby.

"Not that I wanted him to stay, mind you. I had Grand Maester Pycelle and an army of midwives, and I had my brother. When they told Jaime he was not allowed in the birthing room, he smiled and asked which of them proposed to keep him out.

"Joffrey will show you no such devotion, I fear. You could thank your sister for that, if she weren't dead. He's never been able to forget that day on the Trident when you saw her shame him, so he shames you in turn. You're stronger than you seem, though. I expect you'll survive a bit of humiliation. I did. You may never love the king, but you'll love his children."

"I love His Grace with all my heart," Sansa said.

The queen sighed. "You had best learn some new lies, and quickly. Lord Stannis will not like that one, I promise you."  (ACOK, Sansa IV)

Cersei isn’t good, but at times when she speaks to Sansa, I think she’s giving an honest reflection of how she views things, and since her life has been one way, she expects Sansa to experience it too and just deal. I expect you'll survive a bit of humiliation. I did. A good person would have intervened, but Cersei isn’t good. She’s hypocritical. She kills her abuser (Robert), but wants Sansa dead because she believes Sansa killed hers (Joffrey). Because of her experience she knows Sansa won’t love Joffrey, because of her experience she knows Sansa will love her kids, but then, she’s enraged when (she thinks) Sansa does something she did which is the darkly amusing.

When I read their scene in ASOS, Sansa III, it really continues that type of interaction. Cersei had so recently argued against a marriage for herself, but as she must accept her father’s orders, so does Sansa. I think that “I did” is all over their interactions. It is certainly pretty heartless that instead of trying to save someone from experiencing the same fate she expects Sansa to just go along, but then, it goes back to that resignation, that, “this is the crappy way life is for us, we just deal” idea.

Cersei tells Sansa how awful it is, how upset she would be in Sansa’s place, and then says she knew Sansa would comply. Partially because of who Sansa is, mainly because Sansa had no choice course, but also, Cersei believed she was meant to marry another, and in the end her father gave her to the man who killed him. Cersei complied as well. My mind goes there because Tywin just threatened another marriage for Cersei, so the silent “I did” of this is very compelling to me. The intersections between their lives, Cersei’s hypocrisy, I find it very interesting.

That’s why the mentor/mentee aspect of their dynamic fascinates me. And by that I don’t mean Cersei is wise or offering good advice, but she does offer her worldview to Sansa. It happens to be crap, her words are not sympathetic or spoken with the intent to truly help Sansa (Cersei doesn’t have good intentions, not claiming that!), but Cersei fulfills an evil mother figure to Sansa, just as LF is an evil father figure. Cersei’s arena of advice is distinct from LF’s, specifically about being a woman in their world rather than manipulating people, but to me they’re both false parental figures, each with perspectives Sansa might be influenced by, each with views she must reject.

It certainly makes sense to react to Cersei’s complicity in the wedding scene, but when I contextualize it with their other scenes what really stands out to me is that their scenes are dark version of stereotypical mother/daughter moments. Cersei talks to Sansa about her first period, talks about having kids, dresses her for her wedding. That’s why Cersei is in the scene imo. It’s a dramatic reveal for Sansa, made even crueler by the twist of taking another, meant to be mommy/daughter moment, and using it as a horror scene for Sansa. It hits harder for it. Like the lines about two hearts beating as one mocking what Sansa and Tyrion are to each other, what Sansa longs for in marriage, this scene, several Sansa and Cersei scenes actually, are a mockery of a different bond. I find that disturbing but intriguing.To me, recognizing what their dynamic is a twisted version of is an important layer.

And I have to point out, Sansa does hate and fear Cersei more than Tyrion. Sansa accepted that Tyrion could have sex with her, but the fact that he was the one who intervened on her behalf earlier and spared her on their wedding night, she doesn’t forget it. To her, he treated her kindly when others did nothing. For me though, while she fears Cersei, I have far more anxiety about the trouble Tyrion will cause Sansa. I think Sansa is beyond Cersei’s grasp, but Tyrion is a threat to Sansa via their marriage which is still very much in play and will certainly impact the plot/Sansa’s treatment in the North. And more worrisome to me is that he murdered Shae and is linking Sansa to her in his mind:

"It was sweet," lied Tyrion, "but I am married. She was with me at the feast, you may remember her. Lady Sansa."

"Was she your wife? She … she was very beautiful …"         

And false. Sansa, Shae, all my women … Tysha was the only one who ever loved me. Where do whores go? "A lovely girl," said Tyrion, "and we were joined beneath the eyes of gods and men. It may be that she is lost to me, but until I know that for a certainty I must be true to her." (ADWD, Tyrion IX)             

But, even though we disagree and respond to Cersei differently, it’s totally fine! We all hate certain villains more than the other. Actually, I hate Rhaegar more than I hate Ramsay even though Ramsay is far more evil. That’s the reality of being human. Our reactions to things and characters isn’t an entirely rational thing. I don’t write out every crime and hate characters according to who did the most bad things, or who enjoyed their evil deeds the most. I have an emotional response to the characters as well as an intellectual one.

So I would say, maybe what would help keep the peace on this issue is to consider if maybe this isn’t a matter of people who hate Cersei the most being 100% logical and those of us who can still enjoy her being 100% hypocritical. We are looking at different aspects of this, approaching it from different angles, and we have unique real life experiences that make us respond differently. We can agree to disagree, we can permit people to feel differently than we do without assuming the worst. I’m happy to leave it there.

As for LF, we both know how much Martin will enjoy writing his death, so here’s hoping he does it!

[hologramcowboy]

Supposedly, the tptb of BS love Jensen. I don’t know how reliable the info is. But he was loved in Dark Angel as well. How does that square with what you know about the industry?

Any working actor knows how to act on a set and what not to do, it's not like this special quality, to be a working actor you need to be professional otherwise you get dropped, fast. Which means moat actors have trained themselves to model a certain personality while on set. Just like Presidents kiss babies to look good. 🤣 So do actors ensure they greet everyone, give them attention, etc, etc. yet one thing to note is that none of the comments made about Jensen actually show those people know him, they speak of a person he puts on on set. It's a marketing thing. Actors network on set and they know that saying the right things about the right people can translate into opportunities down the line. So all those comments tell me is that most people view Jensen as a potential buyer down the line. Meaning someone that will book them on some project or propose them in some favorable circumstance. They also aim to increase their star status by associating their name to a higher tier one in some cases. E.g. co stars praising the guest star. This is not to say that some comments aren't genuine, it's just to point out that yet again everything centers on the casting tiers and on branding. It's an interesting exercise to ask yourself why people are saying what they are saying, what their inner motivation is.

Yes, people praised Jensen on Dark Angel and so on but they would on any set, he is a sex symbol so everyone is going to focus on him and find reasons to praise him because they want to get close. That being said, I am sure he has his on set person perfectly defined, however, a story he told makes it clear that while people do praise him that doesn't necessarily reflect who he is inside and how he actually acts on set. "Jessica Alba is a B****" is not something a highly trained, professional actor would ever say even if it were true and is in no way okay on any level. Jensen's acting is subpar compared to most of his peers, he is self centered and while he knows how to smile and put on a good facade, his sarcasm and frustrationd always come through along with arrogance. So, to answer your question, I don't look at what people say, I look at what experience has taught me, when someone reveals who they are I make note of it and people may lie with words and actions done for the sake if appearance but their choices and body language will never lie. As their choices stem from their deepest values, whether conscious or unconscious and body language always reveals what people try to cover with histrionic expressions and lies. From Jensen, I get a sense he's carefully crafted a persona and now more than ever, due to negative backlash and lack if opportunities he is trying to leverage that persona.

I'm probably not explaining this right so perhaps an example will help, look at AAs and how they praise Jensen: they say he sings perfectly when most of his concert was terribly off key and amateurish, they say he deserves and emmy when he is a subpar actor in today's industry, not saying he isn't good but he's no anthony starr, for example, they say he loves his family but they know nothing of his private life other then the image he meticulously builds and he always says he's mostly away from home and almost never spends time with his wife and definitely isn't there for the kids as much as he should be, I could go on but basically everything he does and says is golden even when it is an abusive "Jessica Alba is a bitch".

So my point is the Halo Effect plays a huge part in how Jensen is perceived. While I have no doubt he knows how to behave favorably, I'm going to hold off into buying what people say, especially those who have a set interest or a high personal attraction. The persona celebrities put on isn't always a match to who they are in real life. I'm also highly suspicious of an actor who considers himself a professional but doesn't study his craft deeply. So, on the surface he is nice to people but then isn't actually dedicated to serving what needs to be served.

This is just my view so please do ignore it if it doesn't resonate.