#sentenced to death by starvation i think?

[nat-space-obsessed]

Day 6: Immortal AU

I guess the Everlasting Trio ain't so everlasting lmao

Danny's hair is a little funky but I tried!!

I had fun drawing bones!

[voidbeomgyu]

ALONE (Teaser)

In which you meet your bias in the worst circumstances.

PAIRING Idol Jake Sim x Fan Fem Reader

GENRE Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Slow Burn, Romance/Strangers to Lovers, Suggestive (Maybe smut, not sure yet.), some fluff

WARNINGS 18+ MDNI, Descriptions of violence, death, blood, etc., All members except Jake died so keep that in mind (I'm sorry), Cursing, Crimes, Mental health talk and experiences, Death, Sickness (Throwing up), Making out, Smut(?), It's an apocalypse!au idk how else to warn about that LOL

SUMMARY The group Enhypen get on a plane to the US and when landing are met with the worst. Jake makes it out alive... but alone. Since the dead are attracted to areas where the population is saturated, your best bet is to stay low in the areas usually considered dangerous (alleyways, abandoned buildings, etc). He made his way into the country and found a nice cabin alongside a lake. His further inspection led him to believe it was abandoned for whatever reason, maybe it was a vacation home? Little did he know his inference was correct, and soon he was met face to face with a member of the family who owned it. How would she react to seeing her favorite artist rummaging through the cupboards of her new--hopefully permanent--home? And how would he be able to explain to a loyal fan of his that he was the only member left?

TEASER WORD COUNT 1,625

RELEASE DATE To be determined.

TAGLIST Comment on this post or send an ask to be added. (Have your age on your profile or you will not be tagged)

Endless walking while trying to find a suitable place to stay was slowly driving Jake insane. The exhaustion from travelling, fear of death, and anguish from the scene at the airport was weighing down on him heavier and heavier every second. Having watched his best friends, his brothers, his family all being taken away from him without being able to do anything but listen to the oldest’s words, “Run”.

Jake had not yet cried, there was no time for it. It’s been almost thirty six hours since then, he’d stolen a bike around a mile away from the airport. It’s helped him a lot on his journey to safety. He never stole, he wasn’t like that, not that type of person. But in the moment he didn’t have the time nor energy to feel guilty about it. 

Jake didn’t know exactly what he was looking for, but he wanted quiet. Not knowing wether or not it’ll be safer in the city or the country side, he chose the latter. Cities are crowded with people, meaning they must be crowded with the dead by now, right? No matter; either way he knew he’d feel much better being in the middle of nowhere, or at least in the middle of what looked like nowhere. All alone in an abandoned farm house, maybe a lake house, any house on the country side would do. He was being too optimistic, he knew, but he couldn’t help it. Finding a safe home to live in alone with no one around for miles sounded comforting.

The Jake from two days ago would’ve shivered at the thought of being completely alone. Though no extrovert, he needed people. He needed that connection, that interaction. His reasons to smile and laugh were mostly based around the people around him or the entertainment he consumed. Entertainment was out of the question now, and it seemed like people were too. Most dead, and others probably too violent to give Jake a chance due to the circumstances. 

All he held on him was his and Sunghoon’s carry-on bag from the flight. Note to self, don’t try to save your friend by holding onto their bag. Thoughts like this crossed his mind every few minutes, tragedies sentenced as jokes but he wasn’t laughing. What’s wrong with me? How could I think something like that? Maybe it was the dehydration, starvation, overall fatigue? He hadn’t eaten anything since the flight and was savoring the small amount of water he had on him. Either way, thinking of his beloved friends didn’t do much to help his mood. Trying to think of the good times? Those good times will never happen again, they’re gone forever and I’ll never get them back.  

More days passed like this. With a stop at a gas station probably being the reason he’s even alive right now. It was abandoned, for the most part. It was the early morning, and he was literally starving now. The cashier was still there, but his neck was chained so tightly to the wall that it was on the edge of ripping his head clean off. Oh, he was a living corpse too. Jake could tell that much by just looking at him, muffled grunts and groans coming from the pale body every minute. Luckily, he didn’t seem to care much of Jake’s criminal activities there. Stuffing whatever foods and drinks he could into the bags he had on him. They were even heavier now, but he couldn’t feel anything. He was numb to all feeling, mentally and physically. 

At day four he had started keeping track of how many days passed with a calendar he found on the wall of the gas station that morning. He didn’t stay there though, he didn’t have it in him to kill the cashier, and he knew that if he somehow got loose while he was sleeping it would all be over. The past few days he hadn’t slept or rested much at all actually. Napping for at most an hour at a time, waking up to the slightest noises and scurries of nearby wildlife. He knows he’s incredibly lucky to not have encountered any of the dead, besides the one at the gas station, but it’s a little stressful to not have seen any either. Where could they all be? He had made it out of the city, the once bustling streets on day two, he knew many people weren’t out here to begin with. But knowing there are creatures that could kill him in seconds lurking while having no idea where they are was terrifying. 

It’s been six days. His legs started feeling numb just hours after finding his bike due to the frantic pedaling, now he felt like his legs were asleep all the time. The feeling of pins and needles covered his lower body as they worked on auto pilot to keep him going. His back felt horrible, slouched from his broken spirit. Endless cramping and soreness of his hands and fingers from gripping the bikes handles for hours at a time. His knuckles were white, and now so was his once tanned and alive skin. 

His lack of proper meals, sleep, and rest was now obvious. Jake hasn’t seen himself since that day in the airport, but from looking at his now thinner, paler, vein visible arms, he could take a guess at what his face looked like. Hell, he could feel the bags under his eyes whenever he blinked now. 

It’s been quiet and empty for a few miles. Nothing but grass, and a dirt trail he’s been following in sight. How long is this damn trail? he thought. Jake started following the trail at the sunset of day five; he remembers because of his calendar. It was coming to the end of day six, the sun starting to set in the distance behind him. He found a flashlight at the gas station and used it to find himself a place to “rest” for the nights he faced, it neared the time to find a spot to sleep.

Trees were all around him now, the area looked more alive here, not dried out and dead like the miles before. He must be getting close to some sort of building, forest trails usually have a building as a starting point, right? Unless this trail wasn’t made for hikers, in that case he was hoping in vain. 

It was almost completely dark now. Jake had usually found somewhere to stay by this time, but something was telling him to keep going. Using the flashlight to illuminate the shadowed forest, he heard his friends voices cheering him on over and over again. 

“Keep going Jake!”

“Just a little longer!”

“You’ll be okay!”

Tears were unconsciously streaming down his face now, though he still didn’t feel anything. His body just gave up on the effort of keeping them in. 

Jake pedaled faster. He couldn’t hear anything but his heavy panting, it felt like someone had covered his ears with their hands and muted the sound of everything around him. He saw something in the distance, the roof of a building; he padaled faster. A house, the roof made of wood, looked like a cabin; he padaled faster. He could hear the muffled sound of streaming water; he pedaled faster.

Face to face with a cabin, going so fast he couldn’t stop himself from crashing into the wet grass below him. Still struck with adrenaline, he pulled himself up quickly and dragged his bike to the front door. His broken and unused voice sounded through his pants as he tried frantically to open the damned door. 

The door handle had a key hole but was locked with a rusty padlock. He could turn the handle and wriggle the door, that padlock was what he needed to remove. He pulled a hammer out of his bag; he grabbed it from the gas station floor, it was covered in dried blood. Obviously used by someone prior to leaving it there. Jake slammed the hammer into the padlock, over and over again. The loud bangs from striking the lock were null to Jake’s ears, his desperation coating over all his sense. 

Smash. The padlocks body is broken away from its handle and the door is free from it’s hold on the wooden frame. 

Jake shoves his way inside, throwing the bike onto the hard floor of the entry way before turning to lock the door. It was locked from the outside but had a perfectly working lock on the inside, though he didn’t care to question it. He made it, he was safe, he felt like he could faint.

He had no time to think, let alone find a good source of light before he threw up. Keeling on the once clean floor, liquid from his stomach poured out from him. His throat burned and ached at the feeling, like his throat was made of sandpaper. Falling back he sat on the floor, staring at the door and the mess he made on the ground. He laid back and let his eyes rest for the first time in nineteen hours. Jake fell asleep there on the hard floor, knee propped up on the backside of a couch.

If he was thinking clearly, he would’ve checked the entire cabin, then scavenged for any foods that may be there. But he was broken, body and mind. Luck had been on his side since the beginning though. The home was completely vacant before he entered, and when he wakes up he’ll have found himself a place to live in safely. Away from the corpses living in the surrounding cities, and away from any still living people, all alone.

(A/N: Hello friends! I'm finally writing LOL I've had this wip since December and I'm finally going to finish it. This post is just to see if people would even be interested lol. The total fic word count I don't know yet because I haven't finished it, but I am close! I won't give y'all any hints but I will apologize in advance for the angst I'm about to put y'all thru<3 sorry love you guys muah. Don't know exactly when I will publish the full fic, maybe right when I finish it, maybe a month after I finish it IDK I haven't written seriously in months so I'm not too confident anymore but I am excited. Hope y'all are as excited as I am :D )

[probablynotasquid]

ok but time dilation?????

the passage of time was very obviously different here than back in you're own world. the celestial bodies flew across the sky like birds—you observed the movement yourself. you watched as the sun rose and set, then rose again in what seemed to be little under a half hour. perhaps your perception of time was messed up from whatever shenanigans got you into this mess in the first place.

but the sun never slowed. time passed with alarming speed, leaving you in the dust to wonder just what was happening. it did have some advantages, though. you could walk for days without accumulating hunger or thirst, which also led you to discovering just how small this world seemed relative to your own. it allowed you to outlast the hoards of angry people that accused you of seemingly just existing.

it made it easier to survive in... wherever they took you.

it happened so fast that you didn't even have time to register where you were. somewhere in sumeru, you guessed, having awoken and mondstadt and been traversing the terrain westward as far as you could go.

the desert, i suppose, you thought solemnly. sitting in a stuffy stone cell that reeked of mold was not really an activity suited for anything but solemnity. if you didn't die from starvation, you would die from the asthma-inducing airborne particles.

you almost chuckled at that thought. you thought a lot these days—being locked up doesn't allow for much else. you thought and you stared whistfully out the pathetic hole in the wall you hesitated to call a window. the day-night cycles were more prominent now as you had nothing else to look at. you lost count after about five or six sunsets. barely a couple hours. it was disorienting.

the guards seemed to think so, too, but not about how fast the days passed. about how they had been actively depriving you of food and water for days on end, and yet you were still as alive as when they first put you in almost a month ago.

when you were finally in chains, after much deliberation, the authorities had decided to simply lock you up somewhere you couldn't stir up trouble for the public. you hadn't been actively harming anyone or anything up to that point, your percieved crimes simply consisting of making a fool of their beloved creator. many extremists were adament on a death sentence, but some more reasonable individuals agreed to let you live; albeit in a dingy cell away from the outside world. the extremists eventually accepted.

as a mortal, you should perish soon enough in the harsh conditions. they practically guaranteed it behind the scenes. rations were to be given sparcely and scarcely. nothing but a small loaf of bread and a meager bowl of water. they expected you dead in a week or two.

but you persevered.

somehow, you had managed to outlast any average mortal without as much as a small stomach ache. you slept once, but your nap lasted nearly a week in itself. the guards nearly believed you had suddenly just up and died until they saw you turn slightly in your sleep.

the most you were was bored, really. and maybe slightly malnourished from the sparce and nutritionally-questionable 'meals' they had passed under your door every few hours—days, you guessed, in their minds.

frankly, everyone was confused. this confusion gave way to questions, which led to doubt and suspicion and even more confusion. any mortal would have succombed to the conditions and rotted away already. what were you, then, if not a mere mortal impersonating a revered being, higher than the gods themselves?

one day, you were startled out of your thoughts by a sudden thrashing of your door. it burst open with a deafening, echoing crash, and before you was a familiar face. one you had spent hours looking at through a screen, admiring and building them up from nothing. your main, if you will.

you could only stare for a moment. they were horribly dishevelled. you had half the mind to ask if they were ok, but the words never escaped your throat. their eyes gleamed with desperation as they strided toward you, and only then did you catch the glistening of a small blade clutched tightly in their dominant hand.

you didn't have time to panic as you registered their grip on your wrist, the cool sensation of the metal lasting but a second until it was replaced with a pinch. blood seeped out of the slice, shimmering as it dripped down your forearm and polled on the stone floor of the cell.

a small slice, but it revealed everything.

just a quick writing dump, not really edited or anything so sorry if its a bit weird in places lol

apparently one hour in genshin is about a minute (one day-night cycle is about 24 minutes) so im running with that

[nalyra-dreaming]

Is nobody considering that Armand didn't want Louis to die at all?

The human audience all shouting "banishment!" was a noble gesture on Lestat's part, but Santiago didn't seem more bothered than any other time Lestat went off script.

The vampires still dragged Louis offstage to a coffin and stones that were already prepared. For the audience, that could mean anything. They think it's fake anyway. But his sentence was still going to be death, and the means for it were already waiting.

And we now know Armand was meticulously involved in the planning, so he also planned that slow death by starvation, which always would've given him time to get Louis out as he did.

It's a risky plan, but it's not "burning immediately in the sun with no hope of revival". It gave Armand time.

I'm not saying this because I "need" Armand to be "guilt free" in order to like him. The premeditated elaborate execution of Claudia and Madeleine still stands.

But everything about Armands motivation in every other scene says he adores Louis and wanted him to be his master, his lover and his way to be free of a conniving and oppressive coven.

The slow death option for Louis means the same as Louis putting Lestat out with the trash: Armand didn't want him dead, but he was scared of a hard break with the coven and had to find a clever way to get out. He just needed to get rid of Claudia and give himself time to save Louis subtly.

Oh yeah, that … death could likely always have been that way. Agreed. And Armand would want to punish Louis a bit before retrieving him… similar to him later waiting before offering his blood to Louis.

And Santiago thought himself soooo clever with that Belgium quip.

Possible. Armand might have surprised him there. I still think it speaks of shame he didn’t stay for Louis to actually rising.

IF that was how it happened….

But I think that likely stands.

[thebadgerclan]

Justice

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x reader

Summary: Justice is served

There is an execution depicted in this (nothing overly graphic), so proceed w/ caution

Part 2 to Salvation

The King’s condition had drastically improved since his….treatments with Doctor Orolv had ceased, but he was not healed.  Nikolai’s hands still trembled, he still felt the demon creeping in his mind, dragging its talons against his consciousness, the fear of it breaking free gnawed at him, but one look from you, one touch of your hand against his sent the demon skittering to the corners of his mind, leaving the King’s mind completely and utterly his.

Since your husband had moved back into your rooms, since he began spending his nights wrapped in your embrace, the demon had not come out, it hadn’t even tried to emerge.  And Nikolai was happier, he was more productive; his wit and banter was back, he was back.  And it was all thanks to you.  Nikolai had been going mad, he knew it, thanks to the so-called Doctor recruited to rid him of the demon.  She had tortured him: waterboarding, whipping, branding, starvation, isolation.

All any of that served to do was anger the demon, rile it up.  And when Nikolai passed you in the corridors, unable to speak to you by his “Doctor’s” order, the demon would buck, fight harder than it ever had to get free.  Little did Nikolai know that you would be his salvation, not his downfall.  Now, Orlov was in a cell and the King had never felt better.

Nikolai peppered your face with kisses, drawing you from sleep.  “Hmm, Kolya,” you mumbled as you stretched, the silk sheets slipping from your body.  “Good morning, my beloved wife,” Nikolai said, kissing his way down your neck.  “My goddess, my angel, my beautiful Y/N.”  You smiled, accepting your husband’s kisses.  “Darling, as lovely of a wakeup as this is, I don’t have time for your distractions this morning.”

Your husband smirked.  “Oh?  Even when my distractions are so very enjoyable?”  He dragged his nails over your side, making you squeal with laughter, and you extracted yourself from bed.  “Yes, even then, my love.”  Nikolai watched as you darted behind the dressing screen, a sleepy smile on his face.  But when you emerged, wearing your kefta rather than a gown, Nikolai’s smile faded.

He knew that look that you wore: it was the look you wore when doling out punishments, the look you wore when reading guilty verdicts at court.  This was not the look of his gentle, loving Queen; this was the look of his Queen going to war.  “You’re doing it today?” he asked, and you nodded, securing your hair back in a simple braid.  “I am.  She’s been interrogated and cross examined.  A unanimous guilty verdict.”

Laisia Orlov, former physician, was set to be executed today for high treason and conspiring against the Crown.  And she would die at the Queen’s hand.  A Rakvan Queen had not performed an execution in nearly 200 years, but this case warranted an exception.  “I’ll be there,” Nikolai said, rising from bed.  “You won’t have to do it alone.”  Nikolai knew your reservations about this, but your desire for revenge and justice far outweighed them.

“Thank you, my love,” you said, resting your head against his shoulder.  “I’ll see you soon.”  You would visit your prisoner one final time before she was brought to the Square for the execution, where Nikolai would hand down the sentence.  Your guards flanked you as you made your way down several flights of stone stairs, into the belly of the Palace.  Orlov was kept in the smallest cell, barely enough room to stand in, yet she sat as you approached.

“Come to berate me some more?” she snarked, and you scoffed.  “No.  I’m here to offer you your last rights.  Not that there’s much hope of repenting at this point.”  Laisia’s eyes went wide.  “You’re going to kill me?”  “Did you really think there was another fate for you?  After you tortured your King half to death?”  Laisia laughed, a cold, wicked sound.  “He is no King of mine.  That man is infected with evil and darkness, and I will be rewarded by the Saints for my efforts to save this wretched nation.”

You crossed your arms, looking down your nose at her.  “If that’s what you choose to believe.  Make your peace.  You have a half hour.”  You spun on your heel and left, ignoring her cries of protest, the hatred she spewed.  Outside, the Square was packed with Ravka’s nobility, the judges, the lawmakers, the physicians–the real physicians–you’d brought in to corroborate Laisia’s argument.  Unsurprisingly, they were all appalled by her methods, confirming what you should have suspected from the start: she was a radical intent on killing the King.

Nikolai smiled when he saw you approaching, dressed in his military dress uniform.  “My darling,” he greeted, kissing your cheek.  “Any news from my wonderful doctor?”  You shook your head.  “Other than the fact that you’re ‘infected with evil and darkness’, no.”  Nikolai shrugged.  “Well, we already knew that, didn’t we?”  “How are you so nonchalant about this?” you asked.  “This woman tried to kill you, tortured you, and you’re joking about it.”

Your husband cupped your cheeks gently.  “Because, my love, she is nothing.  Yes, I was tortured, yes, it was horrible.  But you, Y/N, brought me back.  You saved me, you keep me grounded, you keep the demon at bay.  My salvation, my love, my Y/N.  If I have you, then nothing else matters.”  His declaration would have normally made you throw yourself into his arms, but the jeering of the crowd drew your attention.

Laisia Orlov was being led out by armed guards, her hands and ankles bound.  “Let’s get this over with, yeah?” Nikolai said, and you squeezed his hand.  “Yeah.”  He kissed your cheek and you stepped from the raised dais, walking to the center of the Square.  The guards kicked Orlov to her knees and dispersed, leaving the prisoner to you.  She looked at you with hatred, and you looked back with equal measure.

“Laisia Orlov,” Nikolai called, silencing the crowd.  “You have been brought before your King and court charged with high treason.  A jury of your peers has found you unanimously guilty and has sentenced you to death.  How do you plead?”  Laisia, to her credit, did not cry, did not tremble.  “I am not guilty,” she responded, voice steady.  “I sought only to purge the madness from you, and in return, I am to be murdered.”

Nikolai did not cower.  “As decided by the jury, Queen Y/N Lantsov will carry out the execution in a manner of her choosing.  My love…” he gestured to you, indicating that you may proceed. “Any last words?”  “This will not last,” she spat.  “It will return, rot his mind, drive him to madness.  Soon, your dear King won’t know the difference between the heavens and the earth.”  You bent so your face was inches from hers.  “I will stand with him between the heavens and the earth,” you hissed.  “If that is what he needs.”

You straightened and folded your hands, calling your power.  You started by slowing her heart, just enough to make her panic.  Then you cut off her airway, made her pain receptors fire, severed her aorta.  Finally, you flicked your wrists and snapped her neck, ending her life.  The crowd cheered, and you forced yourself to breathe.  You had killed before, yes, but that had been in war, in self defense, this was…..

You felt dizzy, like the ground was swaying beneath you, but before you stumbled, Nikolai was there, steadying you.  “I’ve got you,” he whispered, kissing your temple.  “You’re alright, sweetheart, I’ve got you.”  You nodded, letting him lead you back into the Palace.  Orlov’s body would be cleaned and returned to her family; you could offer them that small mercy.  “Nikolai, I–”  “Shh, it’s ok.  Let me carry you for a while.”

He didn’t mean literally, though your legs were certainly shaky enough.  You’d carried him for the past few weeks while he recovered, supported him while his mind and body healed.  Now he would carry you, comfort you as you processed what you’d just done.  “Justice,” you whispered.  “Yes, my love,” your husband replied, kissing your cheek.  “Justice.  You gave me justice.”

[soupthatistohot]

hello soup!! i was wondering if you had any thoughts about kafka asagiri - i’ve heard that that’s a pen name he chose based on franz kafka, an absurdist/modernist writer. do you have any thoughts about why he chose that writer in particular or possibly elements of bsd influenced by franz kafka’s work?

Hi there!! This is a topic I've actually given a lot of thought to because I studied some of Kafka's work for school last semester, so thank you for giving me an excuse to infodump about it!

Franz Kafka is a very prominent absurdist author, and as I've discussed a lot recently, Asagiri seems to incorporate a lot of absurdist themes into BSD, so Kafka must have been an influence of his.

Something important to note about Kafka as a person is that he was a very peculiar man for his time and culture. He was a sickly vegetarian in a culture that ate meat and potatoes, he was a sensitive writer who had to write by night because he worked an office dayjob he hated, he had a contentious relationship with his father, he was socially awkward and notoriously romantically troubled -- basically, I would be shocked if he wasn't neurodivergent.

His works often emphasized the absurdity of reality by bending it in entirely unrealistic ways. His most famous work is "The Metamorphosis," in which a man turns into a giant bug, and his story "The Trial" tells the story of a man framed for a crime he doesn't know about and did not commit, who is sentenced to death basically without trial. Similarly, in "In the Penal Colony," a man in sentenced to be brutally tortured without having trial for his crime, which was petty and small. These three stories especially emphasize the theme of being unjustly punished for no conceivable reason, perhaps an externalization of Kafka's own feelings about his existence in our reality, which he certainly considered to be absurd.

Kafka's works often focused on the absurdity of bureaucracy, but there was also always an emphasis on the loneliness of the main character. In multiple of his stories he simply names the protagonist "K," essentially a self-insert character for himself. He definitely had a tendency to project onto his characters, such as the protagonist of "The Hunger Artist," a man who performs starvation for years until a crowd gets bored with him (Kafka wrote this at a time where he was incredibly ill and could not eat).

All of this to say that there are absolutely themes of Kafka's work and of absurdity in general in BSD. One of the main things, I'd say, is the fact that almost all of the characters are outcasts and weirdos in one way or another. While this aspect of BSD is practical in that the characters' quirkiness makes them compelling and often likable, I think it's also inspired by the alienation one often feels in an absurdist reality. The absurdist protagonist often does not fit into or understand the world around them (which is impetus for them to try to rebel against it), and in the same way that Kafka's characters fought against the system (and often failed), so too do many BSD characters. There's a way in which Kafka didn't "fit" into the world around him that I feel many BSD characters could relate to: Dazai and his struggle with humanity, Atsushi and his struggle for purpose, etc.

Asagiri also doesn't seem to be the biggest fan of bureaucratic institutions. The entire Hunting Dogs arc is centered around the corruption of the government and military, which definitely falls in lines with Kafka's apparent frustrations with the powers that be. Asagiri also plays into that theme of unjust punishment by making his characters endure so much hardship in their struggle with the absurd. Yosano's backstory comes to mind, as does Chuuya's experiences with N in "Stormbringer."

I think where Asagiri and Kafka differ the most is that Kafka often depicts his protagonists failing in one way or another (typically death), whereas Asagiri allows his characters to succeed. To Kafka, the rebellion against an absurd reality, though a noble cause, typically resulted in one's demise, leaving little room for actual hope. Asagiri allows his readers some hope through his characters persisting time and time against in seemingly hopeless situations. So while he might have been inspired by Kafka's absurdist storytelling, how the two authors conclude their works and the tone that they take differ due to their worldview.

I'm not exactly an expert on Kafka, so there's almost definitely stuff I missed, especially because I'm only familiar with certain works of his. I also don't know if Asagiri has talked about Kafka as an inspiration at any point, something an english-speaking audience might miss if interviews are old or untranslated.

Regardless, thank you for asking about this! It was super fun to write about, so I'm happy to share what I do know :)

[pseudohades]

Need more LaCE-compliant Barduil canonverse fics where their elf wedding is treated with the emotional weight it would actually carry for Thranduil in that situation. I LOVE spontaneous accidental marriage fics as much as the next guy, I'm mostly talking about situations where they court and know leading up to the wedding that that is what they're doing, and there is some degree of plot or character study involved.

He's had sex with one other person before, ever, and that was thousands of years ago.

(Depending on how you write Elf culture concerning touch, it's possible he's had very little physical contact of any kind with anyone in that time. SEVERE touch starvation. And then he's getting as close to someone as it is physically possible to be... that's a Big Change.)

Does he feel like he's somehow betraying his wife's memory by marrying Bard?

Marrying Bard, a mortal, is essentially a death sentence for him. In a handful of decades, Bard will die, and that's if they're lucky and sickness or conflict don't get to him before then.

Thranduil may have survived heartbreak once, but there is no guarantee he'd survive it a second time, and even if he does, he'd have to live through the pain of loss all over again.

The scar. Has Bard seen it before? does he know? Or is Thranduil trying to hide it indefinitely? Does he feel guilty for this? Does he feel like if Bard knew 'the ugly truth' he wouldn't want this? Does he feel like, by getting married to Bard without Bard knowing about it, that he's lying to or catfishing him?

For the majority (everyone except for me, because I'm weird) who writes elves as being male or female rather than all of them being both: has he ever had anal sex in either role before? Has he ever considered it? How does he feel about it?

And, for that matter, has Bard? Does Bard know about any of the above? How is this impacting him?

Thranduil would most likely be terrified, even if he knows for sure it's what he wants, because he's experienced that loss before, he's experienced (and is still experiencing) the consequences of heartbreak for Elves. I see so much confident sex god Thranduil, but I don't think that's how it would actually go down. He would certainly put up a front of confidence and probably deny being nervous if asked. But I don't think it would be easy for him.

I know smut where not everything goes smoothly and the characters have to talk about emotions isn't considered "sexy" or whatever; people want porn without plot sometimes, and a lot of people understandably don't care for LaCE at all, but I think it could be interesting to have this explored more.

[promiscuouspomegranate]

hihi!! sorry if you already have requests or if you’re busy!

could you write a story about a poor fem reader who meets a rich noble? probably not something modern but not too ancient. idc if it’s the stereotypical “omg an injured sexy prince on the side of the road!! let me bring him back to my cottage and feed him stone soup because i am so sickly and poor!!”

thank you !! 🩵🩵🩵

Aching Autumn

Fem reader • Prince Thatcher

TWs: Abduction, Mentions of starvation, Poor living conditions, Reader gets death threats, Thatcher is rude, Violence, + Reader gets her fingers dirty.

(This is my first request I’m literally foaming at the mouth cackling crying sobbing and so HAPPY!! THANK TAHK YOU!! I worked on this a bit and I think it turned out well. If you have ivory skin or locks of gold.. my bad 💔 Feel free to let me know if you wanted anything else. Sorry if it isn’t that good… this is my first time writing in a while 😭)

Although the seasons changed, it seemed the conditions I lived in were stagnant, from the cruel, cold winters that frosted my lips and gnawed at my fingers to sweet spring days that warmed my heart and soothed my soul. It seemed I was destined to live a life of poverty and hunger. After all, what could the bastard daughter of a drunkard wanton accomplish other than lamenting on the town streets of what could have been?

On this particular autumn evening, there was an ache in my heart; no words of comfort or looks of pity could soothe, for I saw the man who was supposed to be my father holding a child with golden hair and ivory skin–something I never had. I tried to elevate myself above the town gossip, but when I heard his name, I knew I had to see it with my own eyes. I needed to see my replacement. He smiled at the child, and I could feel bitter tears streaming down my ragged face.

“My father… You are supposed to be mine. Not that stupid angelic creature who you hold so dearly,” I bit my thumb and stared into the window, “You horrible man! You are my father!”

My father glanced out the window, and I felt my heart shatter when his face contorted into pure disgust. I emptily stared at him and pressed my hand against the glass. That child of his and some refined lady had stolen my leisurely life. I gently knocked on the glass and begged to be let inside. The baby began to sob, and the curtains were drawn. The front door opened, and I was violently dragged into the streets by my father.

“I told her to keep you away from me,” He furiously whispered and tightly grabbed my arm, “You are not welcome near my home. You are no child of mine.”

“But I am! I came from you and will always be a part of you, please,” I cried and pleaded with him, “If I were given an opportunity to clean myself up and become a member of society, I swear I could–”

Before I could finish my sentence, I was thrown into the road and kicked in the stomach.

“You will have to seek your opportunities elsewhere,” My father stepped back and glared, “Perhaps you could sell yourself the way your mother does. You’ll gather enough money to raise a regret of your own.”

He abandoned me, the same way he did when I was nine, slowly and cruelly. Savoring every moment of my cries for him to stay with me and ignoring my presence like I was the wind blowing on his back.

“Horrible man,” I muttered to myself when he was gone once more, “I hope the child dies in his arms and he can feel half the misery that I know.”

I brushed the excess dirt off my dress and readjusted my crimson scarf. I ambled through the town and arrived at the front of my dilapidated building. I decided I had encountered sorrow once too many today and went to the woods bordering my home.

“What I would give, if I had anything of value, to soar in the sky with the doves,” I squinted as they fluttered by, “How lovely.”

The mourning doves called out to each other and perched on pine branches. They hid themselves from me, and I strolled deeper into the woods. I ignored posted signs and warnings to the common people to stay out of the Queen’s forest. I hardly believed it was her land; she had never stepped in the forest. What right did she have to claim what she couldn’t see?

“I suppose it must be nice to claim things as you please,” I felt myself slip into my fantasy of grandeur and smiled, “I would claim the whole world if I were Queen.”

I pretended that the trees curtseyed and bowed as I strolled by. I straightened my posture and pretended the birds were my people. I politely waved and smiled like a queen would–delightfully and regally.

“Oh, I suppose these flowers are for me? Why, thank you, little girl,” I went down and picked what I assumed were wildflowers from the forest floor, “They will look lovely in my crystal vase by the stained glass window. The sunshine yellows would make a lovely spring gown.”

I hummed to myself and stooped down to pick more flowers. I carefully selected each one, though each flower seemed perfectly grown. I selected each by how strong the fragrance was; the more robust the scent, the more I could sell them for in the town.

“I wonder what kind of flower these are? I haven’t seen anything as beautiful growing in the forest before,” I murmured and put one in my hair, “I’ll gather one to replant in front of home.”

I had only begun to uproot the flower when I heard the galloping of stallions and the blasting sound of brass horns. I paid no attention; usually, the royalty stuck to a particular path to hunt the Queen’s favorite animals–ruby red cardinals, acorn brown deer freckled with pearly dots, and soot black bears. I heard the bloodhounds howling as the galloping began to fade into the ambiance of the forest.

I finished uprooting the flower and placed it with the others. I felt something lick my hand and gasped. I saw a bloodhound lazily resting beside me, panting and stupidly staring at me. It licked my hand again, and I pulled my hand away from the dog.

“Stay back,” I demanded but looked nervous, “I’ll.. well, I don’t exactly know what I would do to you.”

I cautiously reached my hand out and placed it on the dog’s head. I began to stroke behind its ears gently and smiled.

“I suppose you’re not that scary,” I mumbled and looked for a tag, “It appears the Queen hasn’t claimed you. Perhaps I will make you my own.”

I took my scarf off and wrapped it around the dog’s neck. I felt joy when it stared at me and rested its head on my lap.

“Such a beautiful thing, aren’t you? You can be my dog since the hunters are so careless,” I squeezed it and sighed, “Yet, I fear you don’t understand a thing I am saying. You probably will run from me the second you see your owner.”

The dog began to howl, and I felt alarmed as the galloping returned. I tried my best to soothe the dog into silence, but it persisted upon howling. I turned around and saw stallions charging toward me. I scooped the dog up, grabbed a flower or two, and sprinted through the woods. I heard men shouting after me, demanding I stop in the name of the Queen. I felt terrified and ran to the frantic beat of my heart.

Yet, no matter how fast I was to run, the horses would always defeat me. I was cornered by nobility and froze in fear. The other bloodhounds were growling at me, and I set mine on the forest floor.

“What an odd combination of bird and tiger. The cowardice of a bird to take flight and the boldness of a tiger to try and outrun horses and your fate,” A man wearing a green cloak frowned upon me–he seemed repulsed by my sight, “Speak, peasant. Make your last words something interesting.”

Promptly, he aimed his rifle at me, and I began to sob in fear.

“Brother, put your rifle down. The woman is clearly lost; why else would she be in these woods? Pity the poor thing and don’t frighten her,” A man wearing a brown cloak intervened–his eyes seemed gentle and welcoming.

“Einarr, could you spare your false sympathies? Not only has she racked up enough crime to be a prisoner in hell as well as Earth, but she also trampled through mother’s flower garden,” He scoffed and put his rifle aside, “It’s either I put her out of her misery now, or mother decides to stroll through the forest and sees her garden missing flowers then makes the whole country suffer her wrath.”

“Thatcher, you seem to forget about our mother’s kind nature. How, if a flower or two went missing, she would smile and think of the beautiful creature that wandered into her garden and was able to appreciate beauty,” Einarr dismounted his horse and clutched its reigns.

“Beautiful creature? I’ve seen more beauty in war than I have her ragged face,” Thatcher dismounted his horse and approached Einarr, “I am assuming this is your attempt at humoring me, so I spare her.”

The two seem more occupied with arguing than dealing with me. I wiped my tears away and fell to the floor. I could feel their eyes burning into my skin as I weakly opened my mouth.

“Forgive my insolence, Your Majesties. I never meant to cause such trouble and ruin your hunt. It is true I wandered into the forest and got lost along the way,” I prayed nothing would ruin my lie, “It tattered my dress and face; I find myself quite weary. I never will step foot in the woods again if it means you so graciously spare my life.”

I heard chuckling from one of the princes and poked my head up. I saw Thatcher terribly trying to mask his amusement as Einarr glared at him.

“Ah! For an ill-bred lady of low rank, she manages the audacity to ask favors from us? Say, do you think you’re more nobility than we are to make such demands? I will fetch your golden crown and scepter, and Einarr will–”

“That is enough, brother. Clearly, she is more worthy of a crown than you are. Such gentleness and kindness despite the cruelty of her circumstance,” Einarr approached me and kneeled to my level, “What is your name? I must know, or I fear I will go mad.”

“Y / N,” I sputtered out and felt breathless, “I am no lady, your majesty. I am only a bastard daughter who managed to lose herself to the perplexities of the woods.

“Einarr, you should be more careful around the animal. She might be rabid and contaminate you with the unforgiving disease of poverty,” Thatcher followed behind Einarr and shoved him aside, “Besides, shouldn’t the heir of the kingdom be at a diplomatic meeting?”

“I suppose you are right about something, Thatcher,” Einarr mounted his horse again and stared at me, “Farewell, Lady Y / N.”

Einarr rode away, and the dogs followed behind him, except for the one I called my own. It was lying beside me, and Thatcher seemed unamused.

“Eris, do not lay with her. Come, girl,” He demanded and crossed his arms, “I said come!”

Eris seemed content lying beside me, to Thatcher’s dismay. He noticed the scarf wrapped around her neck and glared at me.

“You... You were going to steal my dog, weren’t you? You wretched woman,” He clenched his fists and pulled me up, “How dare you steal so much from your providers?”

“I apologize, Your Majesty! I thought the dog was unclaimed and–”

“Silence! Einarr may be foolish enough to entertain your words, but I will have none of it,” He tightly gripped my arm and frowned at me, “Not even death will be enough to punish your crimes. You deserve to be tortured among the criminals of your dastardly rank.”

I felt my lip quiver as his auburn eyes searched into the darkest corners of my heart.

“Yet, even the most painful torture is not fit for you. No, I will choose your suffering myself,” He led me to his horse and forced me to mount it, “I will decide your fate, Y / N.”

He hopped up, wrapped his arms around me, and tightly gripped the reigns. I felt my heart pound as he rode away from the forest.

“Are.. are you going to kill me? Please, just put me out of my misery now,” I begged and felt nauseated.

“I am going to give you a fate worse than death,” He whispered in my ear, “Your fate is intertwined with mine now. Enjoy the scenery of the forest, for I fear this is the last time you’ll see it up close.”

[jovialtorchlight]

the apocolpyse

people think the apocalypse is going to be something that falls out of the sky, a rock that smashes into our planet, bombs that chunk our earth and radiate us all, storms that sweep over our fields and cities and batter and break us. but i think humanity is dying slowly, terminal, like cancer. we are coughing up smoke, we are slowly churning poison into our blood, more everyday. the apocalypse will be slow, the apocalypse will be stupid. the apocalypse will feel like an average tuesday in a time when stepping outside for more than an hour is a death sentence six months out of the year. the apocalypse will feel like a wednesday when every Wednesday our staple crops are flooded during the 4th record setting rainfall in a month. the apocalypse will feel like normal thursday when every thursday the mass migration of people feeling being boiled alive in their home countries die of starvation in a refugee camp. the apocalypse will come day by day, and every day it will feel normal, until the last day we are able to collectively perceive.

The apocalypse is going to feel like a tuesday. Like every tuesday before now.  Like the tuesday that will come the next time our calendar says it is tuesday. It is not going to be a rock that falls out of the sky and smashes into our planet. Neither will it be bombs that chunk our earth and radiate us all, nor will it be a singular  storm that sweep over our fields and cities and batter and break us.

Humanity is dying slowly, terminal, like cancer. We are coughing up smoke, we are slowly churning poison into our blood, more everyday. This building apocalypse will be slow. This apocalypse will be stupid. 

The apocalypse will feel like an average tuesday in a reality where stepping outside for more than an hour is a death sentence four months out of the year.

 The apocalypse will feel like a wednesday when every wednesday our staple crops are flooded out in the 4th record setting rainfall in a month.

The apocalypse will feel like a normal thursday in a world where every thursday the mass migration of people feeling being boiled alive in their home countries die of starvation in a refugee camp.

[triphimi]

❗️(quite) HEAVY INTO THE PIT SPOILERS❗️

So the minigames in ITP are neat additions. But besides the ones from arcades, there are more that you need to find and like

One is about "To be beautiful" and we play as Eleanor giving Sarah new body parts. Eventually after switching all of Sarah's body we can take the necklace and Sara turns into a pile of trash.

Easy, that's pretty much exactly what happened in the story (just simplified).

To get to it you need to call mom while in the Freddy's pizzeria on final night (or at least that's how I got to it).

Second one is about Millie from "Count the ways". At first I thought it was Charlie bc of gray sprite and green eyes but it makes sense to be Millie since CTW is also in the first book. Anyways we collect 5 items from the next room 5 times. First we collect 5 drinks, then 5 cupcakes, then 5 snowflakes are what these things are I think? Then 5 hearts each pierced by an arrow, and then 5 cauldrons. When we enter the room for the 6th time there's some Bonnie looking thing, for me it definitely looks like Bonbon. Also I'm pretty sure that the items we collect are referencing ways to die Funtime Freddy presented to Millie (dehydration, starvation, freezing to death, getting impaled, boiling alive if I'm not mistaken)

Again oversimplified and we only get to the part where Millie's already getting her death sentence (and we don't see Funtime Freddy but she's technically in his stomach so fair enough) but with context it's definitely easily connectable to CTW

To get it you need to spam the candy machine A LOT of times and I think it has to be on the final night too (I did it like that).

But there's one more you can get by inserting a voucher into a prize machine at Freddy's. When you do it it takes you to a minigame where you play as some black haired dude? a kid? Idk hard to tell from the sprites.

Golden Freddy is laying on the floor in the staring room (can't interact with him and touching him doesn't do anything either). We're in a pizzeria judging by the party rooms and the office (I can't tell if it's the same layout as the itp one bc my spacial awareness is laughable so I'll have to wait till someone makes a map of it).

We need to collect balloons, there's a counter I'm the top left corner of how many we have, after collecting 6th the number changes from white to purple and we can go to the room that had been previously blocked. Inside there's a white dog (mechanical one maybe) and some white box saying "prize" if I remember correctly.

After getting into the room we put the balloons on the floor and our character runs out of the room however the dog catches us in the next room and mauls our character I guess??

After that there are letters "C U" appearing at the top of the screen, then the minigame ends.

So uh, what the fuck does any of that mean I have no idea. First I tried to connect it to "Fetch" bc dog but it doesn't make much sense? Why is the protagonist getting attacked by a dog when in "Fetch" only Greg's uncle got attacked (who didn't have black hair) and Kimberly who's a girl.

Also why is there Golden Freddy in the location??? Like these aren't events of "Fetch". And I honestly have no idea what to make of it as of now.

It doesn't have to be done on the final night either bc I did it in earlier night so idk if you need that one for the special ending (bc after getting these minigames done you get a different cutscene and dialogue at the end)

Additionally I want to talk about one arcade minigame which is the balloon boy collecting hats one but I'll make separate post about it I think

[feathers-of-fluff]

Fighting Back The Giant

Summary: Lucas is on the run from his tormentor like usual, but things are suddenly different once he decides to finally face his fears and fight back, but he didn’t mean it literally when he accidentally lands on MX’s back. Little did Lucas know, he’d find out a playful weakness at this moment.

~

“COME BACK HERE!”

Lucas ran as fast as his legs could let him, even if they were begging for him to stop and rest. The ground beneath him shook as loud footsteps emitted from behind while a voice now recognizable enough yelled, making him refuse to look back in fear of falling in a pit or seeing his grinning face.

He jumped over a couple of stairs and pipes, sometimes even landed on the floating bricks, while MX rammed through the obstacles like they were nothing to him. This scared Lucas like hell since he was first lured inside the game, and it still does to this day.

“L-LEAVE ME ALONE ALREADY! I JU-JUST WANT OUT OF HERE!” Lucas begged whilst panting, almost tripping over but quickly regained his balance to jump over another one of the stair obstacles.

“YOU CAN’T ESCAPE FROM ME, LUCAS. YOU’LL JUST TIRE YOURSELF OUT AT ANY MOMENT.” The giant plumber responded, his last sentence somehow sounding correct. Then again, stopping would result in death- or in other words- stomped on like a Goomba.

Up ahead was a large pit, the same one where MX would always end up falling in, and Lucas knew very well from his unending experience. He jumps onto the three floating bricks that were nearby and over to the lined up ones that included a question block. Hearing the low-pitched sound of MX jumping had him sprinting to the edge of the pit out of panic to avoid going down with him.

Some of his worries went away when he heard the brute’s scream as he fell down to the bottom with a loud thud. Lucas puts his hand on a pipe as he catches his breath before leaning against it, sliding to the ground.

(It won’t be long before he comes back up again… what am I supposed to do now..?)

He knew there was no other way of leaving this place. He could’ve died from thirst or starvation, but no, it was like there was no heaven for him. He’d rather have the amount of lives you’d normally see than infinite.

He sat there silent until his hands were clutched into fists, slowly gaining bravery as he got up. He took a few deep breaths to get rid of some of his anxiety. “…You know what?”

“I’m n-not gonna be afraid of you anymore! S-Sure, I may be still am, but-but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna be running away from you all the time like a coward!” He spoke out, yelling down at the darkened pit assuming MX should be hearing him by now. “You hear me?! I’m not staying here any longer whether you like it o-or not!”

He turns around to the pipe he was leaning on before, jumping on top of it. He had to think of some plan to fight back without getting himself killed, but how when MX is that bigger than him?

An idea suddenly struck him. It’s somewhat of a death risk, but he’d do (almost) anything to get out of this hellhole.

“Okay… I can do this.” He breathed in and out a few times to prepare himself, attempting to encourage himself. “I can do this…”

Those same words of his repeated in his head as he waited for something to happen however quiet it may be.

…Maybe a bit too quiet.

…What’s taking him so lo-

“WAHOO!!”

The immediate moment he came jumping out, Lucas took the time to quickly jump off the pipe hoping to land right.

(Please on the hat, please on the hat, please on the hat, please on the hat, please on the hat-!)

The green plumber boy almost slipped off from the impact of the giant Mario ramming down the pipe, but managed to grab onto the hat.

…However, an eyebrow rose once Lucas felt whatever he had landed on, confused for a second until his eyes widened when he saw that it was actually the back of MX instead of his hat. Immediately, he felt like regretting his decision.

“You can’t hide forever, Lucas. Come out!” MX looked around searching for the boy. His loud voice brought fear back to Lucas, and to think he was actually going to be brave for once too.

He quieted his anxious breathing, trying not to look down before beginning to climb up to the top of MX’s head. As the brute searched though, he begins to feel something going up his back but luckily shrugged it off and went back to looking.

“Thank god…” He whispered with a sigh of relief, continuing his risky journey. It was almost like hiking on a mountain except if it were to be a walking beast unaware of his presence, and speaking of mountains, thinking about this makes him interested to go and see them someday… outside of the cartridge, of course. It felt somewhat nice in a way that wasn’t in the middle of a fight or flight situation.. sort of.

“WHoA-!” His thoughts were interrupted when MX randomly decided to jump back over to the starting edge of the pit he fell in, this time landing with success. Lucas began slowly sliding down again, now clawing his way back up not realizing his tormentor would notice. He did feel a flinch and hear him snicker however, which was… unexpected.

A large hand suddenly appeared out of nowhere, startling Lucas into moving out of the way to avoid getting squashed. It scratched the back for a moment before returning to wherever it came from. Turns out, that hand belonged to MX thinking it was just an itch.

An itch that felt a bit too… tickly.

(I-Is he actually..?) The boy thought to himself. He was feeling curious to find out, but at the same time he also had the feeling of this being a bad idea. But like they say, it wouldn’t hurt to try, right? Some small people are sometimes hard to find for big ones after all.

“Quit acting like a coward and come out already, LucaHAHAS-!” MX yelped, putting a hand over his mouth snickering as he suddenly felt a ticklish sensation. Lucas, being the cause of this, skittered his fingers around the back while holding onto the giant’s clothing with a surprised look on his face. He couldn’t believe what he was actually hearing, and he wasn’t even questioning if it was a dream. This was all real.

“T-Thahahat betteheher not behe yohohou on my fAHAHAcking back!” He yelled, trying to reach his hand for the green plumber. He would have easily grabbed him with no problem if it weren’t for him moving around like a spider.

“Wow, Ihi never knew that the big bad ‘Mario’ himself would be ticklish!” He chuckled, dodging the giant hand before continuing his tickle attack. He was still feeling hesitant due to worry, but at least this was distracting MX.

“Nohohot truhuhue, kihiddo! Now gehehet OhOHOHOFF-!” His voice cracked a little when Lucas started skittering at the spine area of his back.

“If that’s ’not true’, then maybe you wouldn’t mind this?” He smirked, now tracing his finger up and down getting some unexpected giggles out of him.

“IHIIHI DOHOHO MIND THAHAT-! KKHAAAHAHA! CUHUHUT IT OUHUHUT!” MX cackled, making a second attempt at grabbing the boy, but to no avail. It was a surprise for him that he’s this fast to avoid being torn apart at a certain point like this.

“After all the times you’ve killed me? Hah! I doubt I’d be stopping anytime soon unless you promise to let me live!” He carefully moves down to the side of his overalls, wiggling his fingers over it. “Now I wonder if you’re ticklish here as well…”

“DOhon’t you try it, ohohor I swEHEHAHAHAHA-!” He bursted in laughter as the green plumber begins clawing at his side. He couldn’t help but wonder how a smaller victim’s fingers of theirs could tickle more than a regular-sized human’s, but it might have been due to how unknowingly sensitive he was. “Or you swear what, you’ll crush me into a pancake? Nice threat, but not enough to scare me!” Lucas replied with a smug.

Now digging his fingers in his ribs, the smug changes to more of a mischievous look as if he was thinking of playing a prank on someone, which he was except that wasn’t the point as he looked at the giant’s stomach with a playful idea on mind. Bellies were excellent spots to go for most of the time, so it should be the same for MX.

His focus quickly shifts when MX suddenly began slowly collapsing to the ground, alerting him into jumping over to the strap of his overalls without any hesitation before he could accidentally get himself crushed. A short thud emitted as he was now on his back cackling almost like a maniac which scared him a bit.

He shivered as he carefully removed his hands off the strap before hopping over to MX’s stomach, wiggling his fingers in the middle of the air with a chuckle. “Giving up yet?” He grinned.

“WHahahat mahakes you thihink that Ihi will? Ihif anything, it’s you who should be giving up, Lucahas.” His giggles remained due to the phantom tickles on his side, looking his head at him only to witness what he’s preparing to commit.

“…Don’t. You. Dare.” He threatened.

“Oh well then, suit yourself! Tickle tickle tickle~!” He teased, now spidering around what can now be considered as MX’s #1 tickle spot by the sound of him falling into hysterical laughter, closing his eye sockets shut while slamming his fist against the ground. He looked up at him to see his face surrounded by a blush. He snickered at the sight of it, seemingly having fun with this current experience.

“FFAAHAHAHACK! OHOHOKAY, OKAY, FIHIHINE! IHIHI GIVE UHUHUP, JUHUHUST STAHAHAHAP-!” He forfeited. Lucas gives his stomach one more tickle before stopping, crossing his arms like he’s been satisfied by victory. The giant plumber catches his breath for a few minutes or so before sitting up a bit with a grunt.

“…So,” he hesitated just by looking at his face, “promise n-not to put me.. through all that again?”

Seeing him hesitantly hold his hand out, MX thought for a second before responding. “…Sure, champ. Promise.” He shook Lucas’ hand with his finger because of how big he was.

By his tone he sounded somewhat… trusting, and he wasn’t so sure about it, but at least nowadays he’ll at least leave him be for once.

…Or so he thought.

A shriek came out of him as he was suddenly snatched up by the same hand he shook once they both let go, his fears slowly coming back to him. Lucas then hears chuckling from the giant.

“GOTCHA…”

Turns out he’s been crossing fingers without his awareness.

~

To be continued

[radio-to-trenchcoat-demons]

help me is this too much for an essay?? Its about the Haitian Revolution for my history class and im so tired i cant think if i did too much or not:

Jovenal Moise, the 43rd president in Haiti, was assassinated in Haiti on July 7, 2021. He was shot and killed in his own home in Port-au-Prince to which they say a group of Colombian mercenaries was behind the attack, and among them, a Haitian doctor ordering as a plot to become president. Present day photos from Haiti show poverty, burning houses and buildings. There are people covered in soot and ash, and people living in famish and poor living conditions. Buildings are crushed and people look upset and crying. And in 1789, the people of Haiti banded together and began the haitian revolution. They overthrew slavery and were heavily inspired by the recent french revolution. 

So still in 1789, the King and Queen were rich scumbags, who mistreated anyone lower than themselves, leading their land and the 3rd estate to poverty, starvation, and even death. Their monarchy was total control and their word was final, meaning that if you went against their word you were sentenced to death. Punishment was death by axe. They eventually invented the guillotine which proved to be more efficient and effective. The 3rd estate grew tired of the mistreatment and disrespect and revolted. This led to events like the storming of Bastille and the tennis court oath. The declaration of the rights of man and citizen even state  “Men are born and remain free and equal in rights. Social distinctions may be founded only upon the general good.” (Avalon Project) This was written by The National Assembly of France in 1789 to fight for freedom under a court of law that they wished to create. This differentiates from the reign the king and queen had over France as opposed to the constitution the 3rd estate wanted to grow to establish personal freedom and separation from the monarchy. The ideas of these overcoming revolutions have traveled and spread due to word of mouth and change in the country. Other countries noticed the change in France and it influenced them to make a similar change in their regime. 

And the difference between the monarchy and the democracy imposes a major discussion. The monarchy was full control, full power, total say. So the French Monarchy held France in total control, and this was kinda ticking off the people of France. But they fought for their freedom, their democracy, where everyone can vote, and can make decisions about major choices in their own community/country. So, naturally driven by the determination of France, Haiti took inspiration from France and began what is known as the Haitian Revolution.

One colonist writes presciently  of the colonists’ dilemma in negotiating with the slaves: “For, if we reward with freedom those who have burned our plantations and massacred our people, the slaves who have hitherto remained loyal will do likewise in order to receive the same benefit. Then nothing more can be said: the whites must perish.” ’ This violence was happening because the slaves and people were fighting for their personal freedom and rights, and that was not being given to them. This violence was used to fight and get a point across, this was the cause and methods of their revolution. 

In conclusion, some may ask, “Was the Haitian Revolution successful?” And you could answer, “Yes”. It made a significant impact on life in Haiti and made a revolutionary change for the whole country. In the end they won independence from France, becoming the first country founded by slaves.

or i dont know if i did too little ;-;

[beardedmrbean]

An Ohio woman whose toddler died after she left her alone for more than a week while she went on vacation was sentenced to life in prison without parole Monday, the Cuyahoga County prosecutor said.

Kristel Candelario, 32, pleaded guilty in February to aggravated murder and endangering children in connection with the death of her 16-month-old daughter, Jailyn, last year.

Candelario left for vacation June 6 and left Jailyn alone. She visited Detroit and Puerto Rico, the Cuyahoga County Prosecutor’s Office said.

When she returned on June 16, she found Jailyn dead and called police, authorities said.

Jailyn died of starvation and severe dehydration due to pediatric neglect, Dr. Elizabeth Mooney, deputy Cuyahoga County medical examiner, said in court Monday. The manner was ruled homicide.

The child was extremely dehydrated and was emaciated, weighing 13 pounds, which was a decrease of 7 pounds from her last doctor's visit less than two months prior, Mooney said.

Mooney, who conducted the autopsy, called Jailyn's death "one of the most tragic and unfortunate cases I’ve had in my career thus far." She said the child could have suffered for possibly a week.

In a statement Monday, prosecutor Michael C. O’Malley called Jailyn “a beautiful baby girl who was taken from this world due to her mother’s unimaginable selfishness.”

Candelario told the court Monday that “every day I ask forgiveness from God and from my daughter Jailyn.”

She also asked forgiveness from her other daughter and from her parents.

Candelario’s attorney, Derek Smith, said that no one was trying to excuse her behavior but that Candelario was struggling emotionally and was overwhelmed as a single mother of two children.

Candelario had tried to harm herself earlier in 2023, she had been placed on antidepressants and stopped taking them without tapering down in dosage as required, which can cause side effects, Smith told the court. Candelario was "not thinking clearly," he said.

“I am not trying to justify my actions, but nobody knew how much I was suffering and what I was going through,” Candelario said through an interpreter.

Assistant Cuyahoga County Prosecutor Anna Faraglia told the court Monday that Candelario had left Jailyn alone for two days immediately prior to leaving on vacation.

"The thought of this child, dying every day while she's having fun — humanity can't stomach that," Faraglia said. "And those are the actions that need to be punished. She abandoned her daughter and left her for dead."

In sentencing Candelario, Judge Brendan Sheehan of the Cuyahoga County Common Pleas Court noted that the police and medical professionals involved called it one of the most horrific cases they’d ever seen.

“It stunned people across this world, because it defies one of the basic human responsibilities,” Sheehan said. He called it “the ultimate act of betrayal.” 

[goodnightmemes]

CARMILLA SEASON ONE SENTENCE STARTERS (PART TWO)

Lines taken from episodes s01e20 - s01e36 of the web series Carmilla. Feel free to change as needed. Part one is here.

❛ This need of yours to document everything borders the pathological. ❜

❛ Posterity doesn’t care. I should know, I live in it. ❜

❛ Whoa, you can’t tell it like that, like some boring history lesson! This is dangerous! This is exciting! This is flashback material! ❜

❛ You don’t think perhaps this makes light of my tragic back story? ❜

❛ I knew nothing of her, except she was very old and very wise and had pried apart the jaws of death to enact my rescue. ❜

❛ The wide world did open before me in death as it had never been in life. ❜

❛ I was never an abductor. I was a lure. ❜

❛ I couldn’t bear to give her up. ❜

❛ I had taken great lengths to hide what I was from her. But, [ name ] went to her in secret and revealed my true nature in the most horrifying light. ❜

❛ And so, my price for the disobedience was to watch [ name ] be taken away to some…certain doom. ❜

❛ I pretended to go along. I had no choice! ❜

❛ There can be great satisfaction in small revenges. ❜

❛ It doesn’t change the fact that my mom will scoop out your eyeballs and serve them in martinis. ❜

❛ Sorry, I’m not on board with untying someone who may eat me. ❜

❛ Pop culture has so much to answer for. ❜

❛ That’s some big talk, fresh meat. ❜

❛ Untie me and we’ll find out. That is what you’re here for, isn’t it? ❜

❛ Oh, yeah, victims who fight back are so inconvenient. ❜

❛ We don’t kill the targets! ❜

❛ Thank you for not letting him eat me. ❜

❛ That’s it? You just use me as a human juice box and I don’t even get an explanation? ❜

❛ Ugh, I’m a vampire and I’m pissed off. What were you expecting? ❜

❛ You never had much of a chance anyway. Sorry, cutie. Nothing personal. ❜

❛ Funny the way things work out, huh? ❜

❛ Fine. But only because I have nothing resembling a better plan. ❜

❛ Ugh, what are you whining about now? ❜

❛ Ethics are a ridiculous game played by children who think they can impose order on an arbitrary universe. ❜

❛ But the fact that we’re both not messily dead bodes well. ❜

❛ At what point in the last century did people give up on knocking? ❜

❛ The vampires loose. Why is the vampire loose? ❜

❛ Feel like telling me the secrets of your antediluvian vampire cult today? ❜

❛ So, after everything that she’s done to you, your big revenge is to be annoying? ❜

❛ And you know how you get to be centuries old? You pick your battles. ❜

❛ Not to ruin your big heroic entrance, Xena, but she’s not the one in trouble. ❜

❛ I have been doing my very best to be patient about the ambush and the hostage-taking and the starvation diet, but I am having difficulty remembering why it is I haven’t torn out your spine. ❜

❛ I was just…I was scared for you. ❜

❛ I care about you! Of course it’s my job to keep you safe. ❜

❛ Well, I’m sorry that my making my own decisions and being reckless is making it hard for you to do your job. ❜

❛ I like you. I really do. I like that you’re brave and strong and all kinds of righteous, but I don’t need a dad. I’ve already got that one covered. ❜

❛ It’s just, me and you…needing different things, y’know? ❜

❛ God, I hate this place. ❜

❛ So, it was kind of a long night last night. Seems the Alchemy Club lost control of this giant underground fungus. ❜

❛ Okay, you can stop pretending to be all callous and indifferent. They saw you save me. ❜

❛ Side note: what is it with people trying to burn that place down? Didn’t they already torch it back in 1904? ❜

❛ Well, nobody likes theater students. ❜

❛ Did you see [ name ] out there? Good thing she’s on our side, cause that was violent. ❜

❛ Yeah, I’d steer clear of her for a little while. Especially if she’s armed. ❜

❛ Yeah, sure. Okay, let’s just dissect my deeply painful past in excruciating detail. ❜

❛ Uh, yeah, crushes-on-vampires. ❜

❛ No! No. Okay. These are not things that happen. Vampires and evil, weird brain parasites, and giant mushrooms? No. ❜

❛ This needs to stop happening. I demand this stops happening. Just…be normal! ❜

❛ I get that this is all big fun for you. But you can’t just expect everyone to go along with all of this insanity. ❜

❛ Like it or not, weird is the way it is. ❜

❛ Yeah, or maybe just for tonight we stuff our faces with popcorn and watch bad scifi. ❜

❛ Blood…there was blood everywhere again. ❜

❛ Nothing should shine like that. Like the rotted heart of the world. ❜

❛ So, that’s not creepy. ❜

❛ Awesome. I didn’t need to sleep again ever. ❜

❛ Not to get all fascinated by weird things, but maybe it’s a clue. ❜

❛ How did you idiots ever trap me? ❜

❛ And since, uh, the subbasement where the archives are housed only exists after dark, a day trip was out of the question. ❜

❛ We are ready for the weird. We thrive on it. We tape our flamethrowers to our pulse rifles and we make the weird submit. ❜

❛ So we survived the research trip! Which, we should probably never speak of again. ❜

❛ Because somebody really did get absorbed into the Library catalogue. ❜

❛ Yeah, that’s the problem with the existence of horrors from beyond the dawn of time. Their lack of subtlety. ❜

❛ Eh, 1871 was a dull year. I decided to read Gilgamesh. ❜

❛ I thought I’d just…check to make sure you weren’t dead. And you’re not. So, that’s fine. ❜

❛ Don’t start expecting heroic vampire crap from me, cupcake. ❜

❛ I sure as hell know better than to spit in the eye of something old enough to think it’s a god. ❜

❛ If you want me to stop having heroic notions about you, you should probably stop saving my life. ❜

❛ I did dream about that weird black cat thing again, but I think that’s just my subconscious being weird. ❜

❛ If anyone had told me before college that fighting evil required this much paperwork, I would not have believed them. ❜

❛ Because A) she meddled in things that were none of her business, B) Did you really think we wouldn’t find out what you were up to C) we are ancient and terrible D) None of you are safe; we’ll take anyone we want. ❜

❛ Told you I’m not the hero of this piece. ❜

❛ What if the last thing she remembers is that I was awful to her? ❜

❛ You are ridiculous and headstrong, and naive, and this whole Lois Lane, Jr. gig is doomed, okay? ❜

❛ You can send a dude to college, but you can’t make him think. ❜

❛ Must be nice sometimes, though. To be normal. Or oblivious. ❜

❛ We drank a lot and danced like fools. Waltzing was fun. It had a frisson scandal back then. ❜

❛ Partners were face-to-face. Chest to chest. All of that, um…whirling. In 1698, it may as well have been sex. ❜

❛ Worst crush ever. ❜

❛ Are we calling the police? Possibly hiring a private investigator? Mercenaries? Bloodthirsty killers for hire? We can do that, right? ❜

❛ Is that new stuff appearing on the book because you spilled blood on it? Right, of course it is. ❜

❛ God, this just gets creepier and creepier. ❜

❛ What do you mean I’m back? I didn’t go anywhere. Did I…go somewhere? ❜

❛ Please tell me you didn’t waste an entire day making brownies. ❜

❛ Well, why does anyone start a cult? Wealth, power, eternal youth, to get back at people you knew in high school… ❜

❛ Did you record your own kidnapping? ❜

❛ Well, hey! If we get sucked into an underground evil, your deadline will be moved. ❜

❛ Can I have an extension on my term paper? Just for, like, a week, until the big soul-sucking ritual I have to thwart is over. ❜

❛ If you can’t keep your supernatural affairs in order long enough to get your assignments done, that’s your business. ❜

❛ This place was cleaner when you were tied up. ❜

❛ We just need something a little epic quest and a little more “borrowed from the museum of warfare and atrocities”. Maybe a nice bazooka… ❜

❛ Don’t be an idiot. Of course I’m doing it for you. ❜

❛ You didn’t come when I sent for you. ❜

❛ So if you’re gonna kill me, why not just come yourself? ❜

❛ Kill you? When you think of the lengths I’ve gone to save you from your own foolishness? No, but I thought we should talk without your little “friends” listening in. ❜

❛ Threats to the Sacrifice cannot be tolerated. One day, you’ll understand. ❜

❛ I think you’re a practical girl and you’ll see that everything I do, I do for the best. ❜

❛ That silly little creature couldn’t’ve loved you ❜

❛ Oh, darling, there’s no way for you to fight and nothing to fight with. Sometimes, that’s just the way of the world. And we must learn to bear it as best we can. ❜

❛ So if it’s all doomed, why even bother coming to tell me? ❜

❛ I thought I’d offer you a deal. If you can keep your little…pet here from making more trouble, I’ll let you keep her. ❜

❛ Y’know, we’re up to being big damn heroes. ❜

❛ Remember, she’s safe so long as you keep her from meddling. If either of you get in the way again, all bets are off. ❜

❛ I will feel a lot better when we are all together and heavily-armed. ❜

❛ This plan keeps you safe. It keeps your friends here safe. That’s all we can do. ❜

❛ You’re right; it’s all that we can do, but what if there were more of us? ❜

❛ And then, unfortunately, I was hit in the head with a tomato. ❜

❛ And like all of their arguments, it quickly escalated into a free-for-all, with paintballs and quarterstaff combat and no concern for the destruction of property. ❜

❛ I won’t let you take her. ❜

❛ After everything, you didn’t even try. ❜

❛ Go away. Go run and hide. We’re done. ❜

❛ So, college isn’t turning out quite like I thought it would. ❜

❛ I won’t try and force you. There’s no way that we can win. We might not even be able to make a dent. ❜

❛ Some things are more important than whether you can win. ❜

❛ Goddamnit. Of all the imbecilic, idiot, suicidal…you just had to go and get yourself eaten. ❜

❛ I just got a text “Trapped in basement of old chapel. Come quick. Bring stakes.” ❜

❛ Yeah, I think we’re supposed to be filming our soppy heartfelt goodbyes or something. ❜

❛ We won. We actually won. We won, and [ name ]’s dead. ❜

❛ No, no, no, no. That was hardcore. We do not apologize for the hardcore. ❜

❛ The light was everywhere. You could see these figures in it, reaching out for you. ❜

❛ Y’know, I really am starting to hate this heroic vampire crap. ❜

❛ Oh, and she was doing the whole “you fools, you don’t know what you’ve done, you’ll regret this, zombies will eat your liver, blah blah blah blah” ❜

❛ People are finally coming around, realizing they probably should have been upset about going to a school that serves eyeballs in the cafeteria, has safety protocols for escaped cacodemons, and where mortal combat is a prerequisite for tenure. ❜

❛ You did it. You saved [ name ]. You saved almost everyone. ❜

❛ God, her sole possessions are, like, a pile of empty wallets and some punk rock t-shirts. ❜

❛ I’m gonna need all of the bleach. God, how did you not die? ❜

❛ So, we think she’s … I mean, she seems dead, but she’s a vampire, right? ❜

❛ Are you hurt? It looks like maybe you’re hurt. And I’m sorry I hugged you so hard that you’re hurt, it- it’s just that you were dead and- and now you’re not and- ❜

❛ Posterity can bite me. I have better things to do. ❜

❛ I have an idea. We just go. We leave for reading week and we never come back. I mean, we can do that, right? Right? ❜

[digyoman]

as someone only familiar with the tv show and unwilling to read a stephen king book for the crumbs, are there lloyd, flagg, and lloydflagg bits of book lore that the show left out that you'd like the public to know?

absolutely! i’m so glad you asked, because i know a thing or two about lloyd & flagg, and the show really didn’t do them justice. at all. there’s so much about them that the writers got wrong, or just left out entirely, and it haunts me at night. but i have a lot of details about their portrayal in the book committed to memory, and i’ve been dying for a chance to talk about them! so i will happily share my knowledge with the public. :)

but first, i want to point out that the book and the tv show are very different, especially when it comes to las vegas. in the novel, vegas isn’t a glitzy and hedonistic paradise — it’s quite literally the exact opposite of that. in the book’s vegas, rules are strict, work is the main priority, and of course, people are killed for stepping out of line. i’m only bringing this up because it has a major effect on how we’re meant to view lloyd & flagg!

okay. i’m done with my tangent. on to the book lore (under the cut because it’s long af SORRY):

lloyd:

contrary to how he’s portrayed in the show, lloyd is a very brutal criminal. in the first chapter he’s introduced, he gets high out of his mind, kills six people, then shoots up a convenience store. and he does all of this without remorse. :)

the newspapers call him “the baby-faced unrepentant killer” lmao!

he’s supposed to get the death penalty for his crimes; if captain tripps hadn’t swept in, it’s very likely he would’ve been sentenced to the electric chair. he’s both outraged and terrified by this possibility, and his lawyer comes up with a defense story similar to what actually happened in the tv show: he was manipulated into committing murder, and poke threatened to take his life if he didn’t comply. of course, they never get to use this story, because everybody dies before lloyd can go to trial.

during that conversation with his lawyer, he reveals that he’s a sixth-grade dropout. (there’s actually a continuity error with this, because later in the book, king says lloyd quit school after repeating his junior year for the third time. so really, you could say either is true, but i stick with sixth grade because it came first and it’s funnier.)

throughout his time in prison, he faces a lot of physical and verbal abuse from the guards. they insult him, threaten him, spit in his face, and pay other inmates to beat him up. :(

as a result, lloyd develops a very strong grudge against people in authority. he thinks of them all as selfish assholes who use their power to abuse people like him who can’t help themselves. (there’s a lot of irony here, especially when you consider what he allows to happen when he gets a taste of that power in las vegas!) his hate continues to grow as he’s left to rot behind bars, and in his starvation-induced delirium, he comes up with the concept of THE KEY: a symbol of power that allows people in charge to do whatever they want, without getting punished. he stays alive out of spite, determined to one day get revenge on the kind of people who hold THE KEY and take some of that power for himself. this makes the moment when flagg hands him the key to his cell much more impactful, and adds a lot more symbolic weight to the flawed stone he wears around his neck, as well.

something else he spends some time thinking about is the pet rabbit he had as a kid. he had won it at a school auction, somehow, and he convinced his dad to let him keep it on the condition that he would take care of it all on his own. he loved that rabbit more than anything, and he did take care of it. for a little while. but things tended to slip his mind easily, and so he ended up forgetting all about his rabbit. by the time he remembered it, two weeks had gone by, and when he ran to the little shed where he kept it in its cage, he found it had starved to death. its paws were all ragged and bloody, presumably from trying to dig its way out. anyway, as lloyd is thinking about this, he’s absentmindedly trying to unscrew a leg of his cot with his bare fingers, because he’s going crazy and he needs something to do with his hands. there’s blood everywhere. and when he looks at his hands, he can’t help but think of the bloody paws of his long-dead rabbit, left to starve, alone, in a cage. and that’s when the cold reality of his situation starts to sink in. (i’m obsessed with this symbolism it’s so good!!)

his fingertips are forever scarred, after that. even in vegas, he still has the faded marks to remind him of his experience in prison. :’)

when he starts working as flagg’s right-hand man, he becomes a lot more capable. he’s still not very bright, but he’s able to manage things effectively. i’m throwing this detail in here because the show made him into a blundering idiot and i need people to know that he is not!! over the course of the entire story, he transforms from a dumbass criminal into a decently competent guy, and that’s a very important part of his character that the tv show didn’t explore at all. (it also has an impact on his relationship with flagg, but i’ll talk about that later!)

one of his newly discovered skills is that he’s an expert diplomat! he’s had to deal with his fair share of crazy people throughout his life, and that has taught him how to anticipate and de-escalate conflict to protect himself and others from getting hurt. that’s a damn good skill to have, working for a guy like randall flagg. it’s implied that this is the only reason he’s survived for so long.

also, he’s good with kids!! can you believe it!! the former mass murderer is super loved by all the kids in vegas!! in particular, this four year old boy named dinny loves him to death. lloyd always gives him chocolate whenever he sees him and it’s the cutest thing ever. <3

he takes showers. like. all the time. dayna calls it his “cleanliness compulsion.” it’s not talked about much, but it’s heavily implied to be a trauma response from his time in prison. (and the ongoing trauma of las vegas probably doesn’t help.)

even though he gets a lot smarter under flagg’s command, his memory is still fucking awful. so, to avoid the risk of possibly forgetting something important, he carries around this little black notebook called his “memory book” where he keeps track of all the things he has to get done.

one of his main responsibilities in las vegas is to supervise/carry out public executions. he doesn’t like this job, but he gets it done, anyway. and this is so interesting, especially when it’s contrasted with how outraged he was when he was going to get the death penalty, earlier in the book!!

he dies with the most iconic last words ever: “oh shit, we’re all fucked!”

flagg:

okay. here’s the thing. i don’t actually know a lot about flagg off the top of my head. i spend a lot of time thinking about lloyd (in case you couldn’t tell!) and usually only think about flagg when he factors into my thoughts about lloyd. but, since you asked, i can provide a few details!

flagg’s background is vague, even to him. he says that at some point he just "became.” but he has fleeting memories of being a marine, a klansman, a viet cong member, and having a hand in the kidnapping of patty hearst.

he’s very well-read. his pockets are stuffed with pamphlets on various topics with all different kinds of rhetoric, and he pulls from this broad spectrum of knowledge to sympathize with certain people and convince them to join his side.

he uses fake names all the time. they all have the initials ‘r.f.’

he has a lot of other nicknames, too. the people in vegas are afraid to say his name, so they call him a lot of different things: the dark man, the walkin’ dude, the hardcase, the midnight rambler… the list goes on.

in addition to not wanting to say his name, the people of vegas usually make the sign of the cross, genuflect, or make the sign of the evil eye whenever his name is brought up in conversation, as if to protect themselves.

lloydflagg:

the last lines of chapter thirty-nine, when they meet in the prison for the first time, are: “lloyd turned and looked into that grinning face with something more than gratitude. he looked at flagg with something like love.” <3

as a whole, lloyd’s relationship with flagg is very complicated. lloyd carries a mixture of reverence and fear when he’s around him — and, when things start to go downhill, he starts to question just how capable flagg really is. HOWEVER, and this is the most important thing: it does not change his loyalty to flagg. not even a little. most people would probably be looking for the fastest way out, if they were in his position, but he doesn’t. he does as he’s told, and puts up with flagg’s crazy evil shenanigans, without even considering the idea of leaving his side.

towards the end of the novel, lloyd actually has a chance to get out; one of his friends tells him he’s thinking of leaving vegas, and asks him to come along, but he says no. and he has this entire monologue where he talks about how grateful he is to flagg, how he feels like flagg changed him — he made him smarter, made him better, and without him, lloyd thinks, he would be nothing. so, he can’t even think of leaving vegas, because he can’t live without him. the new miniseries fucked this up so badly by trying to give him a “redemption arc,” and i’m only slightly (extremely) upset about it!

without a doubt, the most important flagg/lloyd scene happens after glen bateman dies. in the book, that whole confrontation takes place in a prison (!!!) and it’s not being televised, it’s just the three of them, and it’s so much more intense and intimate because of that. in this version, glen mocks flagg right to his face, and flagg gets so enraged that he orders lloyd to kill him. lloyd struggles to do it — not because he’s reluctant to do as flagg asks, but because he’s so physically and mentally drained that he can’t even shoot straight. glen tries to appeal to lloyd’s better nature, but it ultimately ends the same way: with lloyd putting bullet after bullet through him. and when it’s done, flagg gets all gentle and praises lloyd for doing as he was told. and then he coaxes lloyd to renew his promise of unconditional loyalty. the same promise he made in a different jail cell, so many months ago. and lloyd, despite all of his doubts, assures flagg that he is still his “good and faithful servant.” and he always will be.

[hawthornpenrose]

For each of the following items, indicate whether you think it's morally okay or not.

For I do not reside behind the pearly gates, much less guard them, I am under no false impression that I could hold court on anyone's moral character, passing judgement and slamming my gavel down to sentence one for their actions. I am only the observer, at times the vessel for life's dictation, and nothing nothing nothing more. With all that endlessly being said...

An army lieutenant neglects to file a report on a civilian killing done by his troops because he knows it was an accident. OKAY && NOT OKAY. If you do not find war, war will find you. The first battle we're drafted into is the one inside ourselves. We label it conscience and it returns to sender under guilt.

Tina promises her dying mother that she'll visit her grave once a month. After the mother has passed away, Tina finds it hard to squeeze in the time, and her visits drop to about once a year. OKAY && NOT OKAY. Tina's promise was surely made to soothe her sickled ma-ma in her final hours. But that's the fickleness with promises: they're full of promise for what could be and what could be done; Tina has done the undone and the unfulfilled.

A man orders a custom-built sex doll designed to look just like his neighbor. OKAY && NOT OKAY. Peculiar investment! We'll attempt to humanize this man by giving him a name. Now under a new identity, Henri's bonds are different than how you and I may see them, but his neighbor could be all the willing for this unorthodoxical adventure in the boudoir.

Sarah's dog has four puppies. She can only find a home for two of them, so she kills the other two with a stone to the head. NOT OKAY. Those poorest of the poor creatures! A stone! Graphic.

A doctor has been preforming consensual yet illegal procedures on someone in hopes of finding a cure for his ill sister. OKAY && NOT OKAY. This person of medicine must have a resolution inside of them that dwindles the severity of the laws of mankind, a will that strong is to be applauded, but if the reach of justice cannot capture them, what else will they evade?

A neglectful husband pushes his wife to an affair. When the affair ends, the wife's partner nearly kills her and her unborn daughter. The husband kills the affair partner. OKAY && NOT OKAY. A tangle web we weave, but who is the spider and who is the fly?

September has run out of food and is facing death by starvation. She begins to cannibalize her family's loyal staff. They do not fight back. OKAY && NOT OKAY. Seppie, without question, would never! But it couldn't be inexcusable if the willingness was equal on both sides of the buffet.

A mother gives birth to identical twins. One follows their ambitions and the other becomes a shut in. The family make it clear which child they prefer. OKAY && NOT OKAY. When sharing the same face, the parents confuse the two and the feelings are distributed in fair share. The bias accidentally cancels out in its strange parity.

Natalie is so focused on survival she fires a shot without thinking. She did not intend to kill her elderly neighbor, but she hides the body regardless. She denies knowing what happened to the now missing resident. OKAY && NOT OKAY. The elder woman's family grieves without chance for closure, but at its price it will sacrifice the future of another to take the place. Years pass. The family heals over like a scab that never scars, one flick of the nail away from bleeding once more. One day, Natalie's gun is found, the cold case reopened, the ballistics are matched, and the executioner and redeemer become one person in the form a detective who must make their choice on who they will embody more. .... How does the title Angel of Deadly Redemption ring to the eyes?

A woman is facing a lifetime of medical issues. She continues to put her family and those around her in emotional and medical debt. She lives a hollow life and continues leaching off of those who support her. OKAY && NOT OKAY. The toll of living is weighed against the tax of death every day.

Please provide a response to each of the following prompts. Leaving a prompt blank will also be considered a response, and you will be assessed for refusal to answer.

In the event of a life or death situation, would you put yourself or others first?

That is a deceptively complex question, full of nuances that would mold the answer into its final form.

How far would you be willing to go to ensure your own survival throughout this ordeal?

As long as there is breath in my lungs, I will refuse to compromise the moral compass that rights my passage through this life of ours. It's the most unfortunate thing that I wasn't elected to leave these walls and venture out to that ghastly accident, putting at risk the souls of two others in my stead.

Is there anyone in the building you have developed strong attachments to?

The Wexleys have become dearest of patrons, and I've grown quite attached to Zane Sanders.

Do you think it is possible to survive infection through alternative means such as removing the infected limb? Would you be willing to undergo this procedure to ensure your own survival?

Anything and everything is possible in a world of unknowns!

Will following the general consensus lead to improved odds of survival, or would you have a better chance following an assigned leader?

We are often much better off acting under the aegis of the democracy, but if there is a need for a leader to be assigned, I would be the utmost service.

What is the appropriate response to the following situation?

Your daughter falls ill and needs a specific, uncommon kind of antibiotic that will be hard to find; without the full course, the pathogen will survive, regroup, and kill her anyway.You are scavenging a pharmacy, where you find another group, and manage to not shoot each other. You ask them about the antibiotic, and they have it, but they also need the antibiotic, for the wife of someone in their group.You cannot share the antibiotic because it would just kill both people, and they have the antibiotic in their pack. This is likely the only complete dose set you will find, as the other stores have been picked totally clean and there are no friendly groups in the area.

Oh, what tragic tragedy runs through the streets of the forlorn. A wife and her adoring husband tugs at the heartstrings, as you may remember how such angst has touched me in the past and I've never entirely grown beyond those hauntingly vivid days. It's only within my wildest of imaginations can I put myself in the shoes of a father whose daughter is just as ill and in need. The solution of personal sacrifice is the only option that I can see. I could not live another day to relive, even vicariously, the grief of losing a loved one. It will be I who will step into the rowboat and pay the ferryman whatever cost.