#that way i’d be solidly in it when i was there

[mars-ipan]

i feel so smart rn

[wholesomepostarchive]

the most wholesome thing is seeing that the wholesome post blog runner is probably one of the nicest people ever :3 i’m generally Terrified of sending asks especially to a blog that Does Things like this but seeing you talk in the tags instead of just reblogging and moving on makes you seem very friendly and approachable !!!! and i hope u know i appreciate that :] i hope you have a wonderful day and both sides of your pillow are always cool and that if you see a random cat on the sidewalk it won’t run away from U ♡

woah, META-WHOLESOME!! thank ya for the compliment, i try my best to carry out those kinds of traits i value!!!!! i’m SUPER super glad that ya did!!! THANK YOU THANK U!! always appreciating how much of an impact this lil blog has on top of appreciating u for sharing as much with me :-)

it’s always a TRIP getting to hear that something i do that i wasn’t even really mindfully doing makes all the difference?? i’m just really, REALLY grateful for all the different kinds of posts that get sent my way and seeing cool + uplifting + sentimental + OVERALL WHOLESOME posts that i express my thanks + ramble a bit in the tags haha !!

i ALSO hope you have as terrific of a day as you’re able to! and i hope you’ll enjoy seeing more posts pop up!

AND YOU’LL NEVER BELIEVE but i got new pillow cases like a week ago THAT DO JUST THAT! AND THERE’S A NEW CAT ON THE STREET WHO HANGS OUT WITH ME SOMETIMES (i’ve been planning to see if he has a microchip, but i know for a fact that the neighbors who feed all the stray cats on our street already have a cage + are well-versed in TNR, so i’ve been thinking about asking them first because the thought that someone could be out there looking for their pal is enough for me to “do it scared”) !! SO THANK U NOT ONLY FOR THE SWEET SENTIMENTS BUT ALSO FOR THE UNEXPECTED HILARITY OVER THE FACT THAT THEY’VE COME TRUE???

[the-ninja-legacy-whip]

so i was re reading some chapters and you said that ray locked away the anacondrai while mya locked away the venomari which tribes did the other ems lock up and who locked up the pyro vipers was it brice since ice would be useful against them and what are plans for them and aspheera and why did you make them a full on separate tribe

Ray -> Anacondrai

Maya -> Venomari

Brice -> Pyro Vipers

EM of Light (predecessor to Paleman) -> Hypnobrai

EM of Shadow (Shade’s grandparent) -> Constrictai

EM of Surprise (Jesse’s predecessor in the Alliance, but not the EM that had his powers before him) -> Fangpyre

All had help from Garmadon + Collin Pevsner + Sacred Song, and gets discussed further in S4 and S7

As for why I made the Pyro Vipers a full-on tribe…well, it makes them feel like they came less out of nowhere later on, and because that’s much more fun~

My current plans for them are very very loose and very very subject to change ;P

[fingertipsmp3]

I love starting to do something and just, immediately realising I have neither the patience nor the communication skills for it lol

[mctakahashi]

Kenji x Pregnant reader.

Your hair fell into your face as you began to wake up in the dark room. Curtains drawn shut. Covers pulled over you. You yawn looking at the time on your watch. It showed 4:38 in the morning. You groaned looking around the rest of the room, still trying to wake up. Then you turn to your other side. The side of the bed where your husband normally would lay. Although the pillow was gone and the blankets were ruffled. ~where on earth did this guy go.~ you said scoffing and trying to get up out of the bed. Except it was sort of hard with a 7 month pregnant belly. You finally get yourself pulled up out of bed and threw on a a silk robe and began to look around the huge house for your husband, Kenji sato.

First you look on the couch. Then the other guest room. Nothing. So finally you head downstairs to his secret area. The elevator went down and soon you made it to the basement floor. You walk out, socked feet dragging along the floor. One hand on your back. Other on your belly. The huge room that looked out into the middle of the sea was cold. The lights were dimmed. But the room attached to it where Kenji would sometimes go to get away was on. You walked in with a smile and saw Kenji flipping through old magazines while drinking a can of his fancy fizzy drink and leaning back onto his couch. This room was like a nice little living room for Kenji to be alone.

“Hon.” You said seeing him look not as tired as you.

He glanced up and immediately stood up walking over to you. “What are you doing down here?” He said concerned that you walked this whole way. One of his hands lay solidly on your belly and you couldn’t help but smile at his concern.

“You weren’t in bed so I thought I’d come check it out down here, and guess what. Here you are.” You smiled, taking a seat with the help of his guidance. “What are you even doing down here? Doing big bad Ultraman stuff?”

“Come on you know I won’t put us in danger like that.” He said and then motioned to the magazines. “Nah I was really just looking through old baseball magazines.”

“Ah, I still remember when I first made it here to Japan, I wanted to be a reporter so bad that hell. I went to the first big guy in town and got an interview. I’m just happy you gave me a chance.” You said laying on him a bit. “Ooo she kicked!”

Kenji smiled gently feeling for the kicks as well as with the other hand running it through your hair. “Honestly I didn’t think I’d end up with a reporter. I hated so much to go to interviews. Especially private ones. I felt like they knew I was ultraman.” He gave out a chuckle.

“Then the day you told me about ultraman! God. It was like I knew. I mean. I did. I was dating the ultraman.” You looked up at him.

“Did I ever tell you about this kaiju I saved?” He said with a smile, almost a smirk.

“Ugh not another long story. Give me a second I might have to go pee first for this one.” You chuckled leaning in closer. “No im kidding. So tell me what was it like?”

[avocado-writing]

Hi bestie. I would love some angst with Astarion and Tav(reader) where a shape changer turns into one of them to hurt the other and the aftermath of the hurt and the victim convinced it was real until they talk it through and make up? Sorry if that didnt really make sense

notes: none! just some angst set start of act 3. rating: T

pairing: Astarion x reader

You have a horrid feeling in the pit of your stomach as Astarion appears before you. Withers senses something in the air, something loaded, and decides to turn and count his coin; he doesn’t want to interrupt what’s about to come. 

Or more likely he doesn’t want to get caught in the crossfire. 

The way Astarion is staring at you… gods. You feel a tight grip in your chest as a thousand emotions flit over his face. Hurt. Betrayal. Anger. Confusion. Before you can open your mouth he shoves past you, making a beeline for his tent. 

“Astarion, wait - !”

He doesn’t, so you have to jog a little to keep up. Go to put a hand on his arm, think better of it. Don’t want to upset him any further with unwanted physical touch. 

“Please - ”

“Oh, now you want to talk? Suddenly changed your mind after treating me like a bloody pincushion? I thought you were…” he trails off for a second, before finishing with, “I’ve got nothing to say to you,” he sneers, eyes solidly focussed in front of him, acting as if you weren’t even there. 

That stings. But of course he’s angry, he doesn’t know the whole story. You battle through the hurt and manage to stand in front of him, blocking his path and finally getting him to meet your gaze. 

“It wasn’t me! It was a gods-damned Doppelganger!”

He stops. Good. That got his attention.  

Your mind flits back to the other night, the horrid scene as your adventuring party for the day made it back to camp, when you figured all your companions were asleep - a horrid, faux-copy of you with a deadly blade sunk deep into your vampire’s neck. Given the secluded nature of the spot, the “two of you” may have been in the middle of a private moment. He was ripped open from several stab wounds, pale body bathed in garnet blood, and after a loud fight woke the rest of the camp… 

Well. After that everyone worked on bringing him back as quickly as possible, even though you were shaking from shock and sobs. 

Astarion searches your face. He’s looking for a tell. He’s looking for the slightest indication that you actually were the one tearing him to pieces. You want to tell him how stupid that is. Of course you’d never hurt him, change your mind and try to dispose of him in the worst way you could (and if you did, why bring him back?) You’d hoped he’d trusted you more than that. But, being in Baldur’s Gate, with Cazador so close… well, it’s no wonder that nerves are frayed. Logic has gone out the window until he can be forced to hear it.

“It must have been Orin. You know how she’s been hounding us. She probably saw how close we were, and decided to… well, try to hit us where it would hurt. And I hate it. I hate that she used my body to trick you like that.”

Ah. That he understands. You can see Astarion turn this over in his mind, and with a small exhale he releases all the tension in his body. The obvious relief is quickly plastered over with a light laugh and the affectation of his usual laissez-faire attitude. 

“Oh. Well. Don’t I look like quite the fool, hmm? You know what they say about assumptions. They make an ass of you and… well, I’d say me, but usually that’s usually a rather difficult accomplishment.”

He’s trying to hide how genuinely hurt he was. The idea that you could turn on him broke him a little, you think. That you’d use him and discard him so casually… it breaks your heart. Carefully you reach out to take his hand. You feel him flinch just a tiny bit but he accepts the gesture. 

“I’m so sorry she got to you. I won’t let it happen again. I’d never, ever hurt you, Astarion. You know that I…”

The end of that sentence hangs between you, heavy, pregnant. But thankfully, rather than chasing the end of it, Astarion pulls you to him. His arms wrap around you and you feel the softness in his embrace. 

“I know. I know you do.”

And you hold him. Knowing you’d move the cosmos to keep him safe. 

[lakesbian]

“I knew he was the reason she had texted me for help, from the moment I saw her reaction.  Maybe I’d suspected there was something going on even before that, from the way her emails and texts had changed in tone.  It would explain that gut feeling I’d had that made me get over there as fast as I did.  I saw her shrink back, I felt her hold me tighter, and I went cold inside.

okay so just to set down the WoGs about this so we all know where i'm coming from

i think the biggest lie here aside from the obviously false constant reiteration he's doing that he Had No Idea Who The Man Was, No Sir is that he went cold inside...or rather i think 'i went cold inside' is a perfectly true statement, but he wants it to be taken as "i went emotionally dead inside and beat the man up like a cool and tough manly older brother and saved the day" when the reality is that he was frozen/chilled with fear from coming face-to-face w/ his abuser, and he hated himself for feeling so weak and incapable of moving/acting to protect his sister. his desire to be big + scary mixed w/ both his desire to run away/hide himself and aisha from their abuser and his mental conflation of "being able to care for people" and "being masculine/not being weak," and it resulted in the ability to generate darkness. darkness to scare people, darkness to hide him, darkness that makes him look bigger if he generates it around himself. all, of course, while he remains fundamentally vulnerable at the center.

like.

you know? You Fucking Know? brian laborn, man. & he explicitly details how this mindset was beaten into him as a child, while completely oblivious to the fact that there's anything wrong with it:

“Well my father is a hard man. Not the kind of man that’s meant to raise a son alone. I wouldn’t say he was abusive, but there’s never been any warmth to him, no charming anecdotes, no fatherly wisdom, no throwing baseballs in the backyard. The extent of our bonding was in the gym, him holding the punching bag in position while shouting at me that I was doing something wrong, staying grimly quiet if my form, my timing, the raw power of my hits were all flawless. Or we’d be in the ring, with boxing helmets and gloves on, a thirty five year old man in peak physical condition barely holding back against his fifteen year old son. He just expected me to keep up or take the hits, and I didn’t have much choice in the matter.

he has to be strong and masculine, because he's been taught that if he isn't, he will be demeaned and hurt.

so, my theory on the matter is that after he triggered from beating himself up over freezing, the little moment of him being distracted/staggered from coming out of the vision was enough for him to yell at himself in his head and kick himself into "fight" gear.

“So even if I was only fifteen, I was tall for my age, I was fit, and I knew how to throw a punch. I didn’t say a word, didn’t make a sound. I put my sister down and beat my mother’s boyfriend within an inch of his life, my mother screaming and wailing the entire time. When I was done, I picked my sister up and returned to the cab. We went to my father’s that night, and we went to the police station in the morning.”

i think the emphasis he puts on Not Saying A Word And Not Making A Sound is an indicator that that's another part of the memory he really wants to revise, just like how his constant reiteration that he didn't know the man is exactly what indicates that not only did he know the man, knowing the man was very significant and scary to him. i would put, like, 20 bucks down that he's insisting that he was dead silent precisely because he was choking back tears. as 4 the last bit of his big fucking lie....

“When you throw a punch barehanded, it doesn’t leave your hands pristine. A few good swings, you connect solidly with someone’s face, someone’s teeth, and it tears the fuck out of your knuckles. It was at my father’s place that night, washing and cleaning my hands, when I saw it. It wasn’t just blood leaking out of my torn up knuckles, but there was the darkness too, like wisps of really black smoke. You hear about the trigger event, you might think it’s all about rage or fear. But I’m a testament that it can be just the opposite. I didn’t feel a fucking thing.”

i think the fixation on the violence of the thing is in part a desperate desire to prove that he's strong enough--an indicator that he's still the same scared little boy he was 3 years ago, the boy with no route out of being beaten up by his father but violence, the boy being taught that knowing how to hurt people is what keeps you safe. he's trying to turn that into something good, by hurting the "right" people, by hurting people for aisha, but he's still fundamentally under the dysfunctional impression that being a strong, masculine man who can hurt people without flinching is good and impressive and a way to keep himself and his loved ones safe. i think it's also in part that this was the first time he ever really, seriously, intentionally hurt someone, and he's still got the vivid traumatic memories of the wounds to his knuckles to prove it. i do buy that he didn't notice the darkness until he was washing his hands--incredibly vivid and compelling symbolism, and one of the top all time worm things i wish people would redraw.

i also think it's really, really funny how he's insisting that he "didn't feel a fucking thing" RIGHT after a conversation between everyone about how trigger events are the worst day of your life. it's so comically teenage-edgelordy and fake as a trigger event story! and he is telling it because he wants taylor to think he's cool! and it works! she buys that shit! so so funny that he's telling this entire ass huge fucking lie right in front of lisa too. everyone on this team is always fucking lying in front of lisa like ooh good thing no one knows i'm lying. she is basically the bravest and nicest girl on the planet ever for not tattling on him.

[resident-quilt]

Shrue’s descent into radicalism and what the Silt Verses says about our world today

(also, regarding the giant poem that the episode titles make) ITS A TUMBLR ESSAY BABYYYYYYYYY

Kill your gods. Starve them out, topple their statues, forsake their comfort— Kill the stories that gave birth to them. Tear away your flesh that bears their marks.  Adjudicator Shrue, Ep. 43

The Silt Verses is a story born of its time, to a 21st century world which is slowly decaying—and everyone in it is doing their part to help it decay just a little bit faster. It speaks of capitalism, of corruption, of power and belief and environmental destruction and the rift between generations. When Charles tells Val he can’t really stand behind the idea of a family (“You wonder about what kind of world we’re bringing children into, y’know?”) I had to pause and gather myself; it’s something we hear from so many Gen Z’ers today.

But then Shrue’s speech came, and it made no sense.

Shrue calls for an end in any form it can be given. They call for the loss of all faith and love and community in the world; they call for us to kill the stories of our history, to kill the figures we believe in and the ones that give us hope. Anything, everything, all we can give to stop the decay and degradation of the world. They demand us to defeat the corrupt system we have built by trading our lives to do so.

If our words and stories sustain them, let us fall silent. If our communities rely on them, let us drift apart and die, lonely, in the polluted wilds amongst the howling winds of long forgotten deities.

It made no sense because TSV, most simplistically, embodies “no ethical consumption under capitalism”—and this solidly did not fit. So I cast about for an answer to what it all meant, because TSV had grown to be more than the “folks, look where capitalism got us” which I thought it to be. And Shrue's “we can’t do anything to escape the system but die” was just too flat a conclusion. 

Then I fell upon the poem compiled from each episode’s title.

It begins with the start of humanity: a story of things that have happened, things people have believed, things which have roamed the land from then til now. 

Let me speak first of revelations, and next of dark deceit. Then I’ll speak of champions, of lovers, gods and beasts.

And so the poem continues in a description of this story, until it eventually twists to become entirely self-destructive around Chapters 18-24. It's a reference to how everything in the TSV universe seems to eat itself: their system of gods, sacrifices, even the characters themselves.

If I could trace with bloodless fingers, if my hands could shape the flow, I’d bear this song to the precipice and rend us both to dust below.  We’d both go plunging downwards, one final fall from grace— I’d howl, I’d scream, in victory, and we’d be gone without a trace. 

At Chapter 25, we get a respite from the story. We get a short poetic break which concludes that yes, we’re doomed to die—but we continue as we are despite it, and write our story even if it’ll be lost in the end. It’s a classic conclusion that a lot of literature and poetry fall to, because it’s so very human. It’s a cliche, and it’s a cliche for a reason. 

But we’ll never be rid of each other, my song, my sorrow, and I,  So I’ll bear it trembling onwards: to drift on, to dream, to die.

With that, the poem progresses forward until it starts addressing our end and what happens when we face that. It screams of last-ditch efforts keep on believing, even as we plunge down and down and the world just gets worse and worse. Shrue’s speech takes place in “One Last Song of Revelations” (the title is so fitting!), where they vocalize their realization that their pacifist attitude isn’t doing shit to change anything. 

But when they switch towards radicalism because it’s, evidently, the only way anything will ever get done—the only way anything will get the exposure to maybe make an impact—they speak of the destruction of society as a whole. Not the eradication of capitalism, nor the installation of kinder gods, nor the lowering of sacrifice ceilings. They speak of true destruction. Utter destruction.

Shrue’s speech isn’t some call to action, nor does it embody any concrete ideology which the writers are trying to convey. It’s just an expression of desperation. Nothing is working; no one is listening. 

What this poem sounds like is a story of how our world goes. It's its birth, its self-destruction, its philosophical revelations, its finale.

When we began following Carpenter and Faulkner in the reeds of the White Gull River, we were consuming a commentary on capitalism. Now, it’s more. It’s a commentary, yes, but it’s not only that—it’s an exploration. The Silt Verses is a tragic exploration of our world as it connects to theirs, of how we’ve been driven so far and been corrupted so deeply that only radicalism makes a difference because only radicalism is what gets the notice and attention to spark moderate change. And that same radicalism is going to destroy the society we have left.

But it’s all the same in the end, because society's collapse was going to happen anyways. So at least someone had it in them to fight for something.

GAHHHH I LOVE THIS SHOW

[kindasleepywriter]

Bird of Prey - Chapter 5: Smoke and Fire

Bird of Prey masterlist. Azriel x Reader.

Chapter summary: A russet eyed friend welcomes you back. Heat overwhelms you and Azriel.

Story rating: Mature - Minors DNI

Warnings: Some smut. Mentions/flashbacks of past abuse. Slight fluff followed by a LOT of angst.

Word count: 2.7k.

Previous | Next

The bed was uncomfortable, too soft. Everything, in fact, felt too accommodating. You’ve been living in forest and mountain hideouts for decades now. Taking a hot bath felt wrong and wearing freshly washed clothes even more so.

In the wild, there is no such thing as clean. You can get close to it, certainly, but there was always a bit of grime that lingered in the handwashed cloth or the length of your hair. It didn’t bother you, as the absence of plumbing in the forests also meant a lack of people that would try and hurt you.

If you were being honest, the so-called normalcy of your new forced habits made you panic. You felt too exposed, too vulnerable. When you look like you’re not a part of common society, most people who were curious about the presence of a fae of your kind in other courts were too offput by your clear distance from common society. Too feral, too wild. But out there you were protected, you were safe, and you didn’t have to live your life waiting for another person to inevitably try to use you for their own gain.

You’d filled the tub with the coldest water the house could provide you with that morning.

You hadn’t missed your new markings, either. This was the first real bargain you’d ever made, having naturally made petty bets like all the other kids on childish games. This one, however, you would have to keep more than a few minutes.

You knew they went up to the base of your scull, but you hadn’t realized how far down your backs they reached. It looked like a long wisp of smoke, starting along your spine just above your rear, and trailed up until it disappeared in your hairline. You quite liked the design, honestly. You had seen some godawful ones in some very visible places, so you thanked the mother for the simple spine design. The way it trailed in between your wings, partially buried beneath soft feathers, made you quite content. You felt quite vain thinking it, but you thought it looked beautiful on you.

Azriel hadn’t visited you once for the first two days since the beginning of your stay. In fact, you hadn’t seen anyone but Cassian and Nesta, who alternated the role of babysitter with a great deal of annoyance. You got along relatively well with Cassian, if training together in silence could be considered as such. Nesta hadn’t exactly warmed up to you, but she’d stopped sneering at you every time she replaced Cassian. No conversations were had during those 48 hours, the house only resonating a tense silence except for when Cassian and Nesta spoke during dinner.

On the third day, however, the atmosphere completely changed. You were walking out of the sitting room towards the training grounds with Cassian, ready to beat your body into submission again, and as you traversed the main hall of the House of Wind, beating wings were heard, growing increasingly louder. The noise was followed by a voice calling out:

“Hey, Feathers, look over here!”

You turned around to the familiar voice, unable to resist grinning at the newcomer – Lucien. You couldn’t believe it. It must’ve been at least 300 years since you had last saw him. The second he landed and jumped out from the arms of the Illyrian who had carried him, Azriel, he started running towards you at full speed. You braced for impact as he collided with you, sending you both tumbling to the ground, holding on tightly to each other. You both sat up, still in an embrace.

“God, you don’t know how much I missed you, I thought you were dead!”, he exclaimed, his face solidly buried in your hair.

You let out a laugh. “Come on Kit, did you really think I’d go through all that we did just to die on you? Be realistic, please.”

He separated from you holding your face in his hands, pushing his forehead to yours.

“From the ashes and smoke-”, he began.

“-rises the fiercest fire.”, you finished softly. “I remember, Kit.”

“I thought you were gone, Feathers.”, he said, his voice shaking. “No one had seen you, even Amarantha couldn’t find you, I thought it was over.”

“I followed our deal, I always made sure someone could inform you if a mission went wrong. I’d never leave you in the dark like that, Lucien.”

You both finally separated, standing again, still holding on to each other’s forearms. You looked him over, shocked to see how different he looked.

“Gods, what happened to your eye?”, you exclaimed as you cradled the left side of his face and softly ran a finger along his scar, “What Puca did you piss off this time?”

“Ha! well, not-so-funny story-”

A loud Ah-um reminded you both that you were in the presence of other people. Cassian looked at you both incredulously, while Azriel’s were narrowed and fixed on Lucien.

“When you said you knew her, you didn’t mention you two had… history.”, the Shadowsinger declared.

You and Lucien burst into laughter again.

“Wait you think that he- that we-”, you let out, wiping at your eyes as tears leaked out of them, unable to complete the sentence as you fell victim to another fit of laughter.

Lucien looked torn between amusement at your reaction and panic “Oh gods no, never- don’t try to imply that to Elain, I swear to you I’ve never touched her that way in my entire life!”, he rather suddenly exclaimed.

You, finally calming down and only chuckling, let out: “I can’t believe you would keep our eternal love a secret, Lucien, I wouldn’t have told my father to prepare for a proposmmm-”

Lucien had clasped a hand over your mouth, clearly not happy with your sarcasm, worry in his eyes.

“You’re not helping, Feathers.”

Oh. You’d forgotten one crucial piece of information in the shock of seeing him: he was mated and, if the rumors were true, it was to the third Archeron sister, the one you hadn’t met yet. Elain, apparently. You brought up two hands in a peace gesture, and he let you go with a friendly shove. “Sorry, Sorry, should’ve read the room. You do have to tell me about her Luc, I’ve only-”

“While this reunion is clearly the height of fun for you both, Lucien came here for a reason, he’s the one who’s supposed to watch over you for the next few days, although I’m now heavily doubting that decision.”, Azriel interrupted. You scowled.

“Ah come on Az, let them have their little reunion, they clearly haven’t seen each other in years”, Cassian said, “She hasn’t done anything troublesome since she’s been here, and I think she talked more in the last five 5 minutes than she has in the last three days. How about you cut her some slack. Oh, also, being able to go to the loo alone would also be an appreciated gesture. It gets awkward fast when you listen to each other pee.”

Azriel didn’t look pleased. “Fine. As long as she stays in this house.”, he gritted out.

He glanced at the others before marching himself over to you, taking your wrist and almost dragging you to another hallway. You looked over your shoulder at Lucien, hoping he might try and stay something, but he was only watching with amusement. Traitor.

The Shadowsinger led you into a room at the end of the corridor, pushing the door closed and turning you around, trapping you between his body and the door, his hands resting on the wood on both sides of your shoulder. He wasn’t much taller than you, your Peregryn genes made sure of that, but he had his wings flared wide behind him. Consequently, the only thing you could see was him and his shadows. Not that they were very intimidating, mind you, only curiously climbing up your arms and settling on your shoulders. They were cold but almost… comforting. They reminded you of the winds of the Illyrian mountains when winter was just settling in.

You battled the urge to also spread your wings and physically push him back, but you took every ounce of patience you had to keep yourself calm. He couldn’t hurt you; he was just trying to look more intimidating. You could handle that. He looked furious.

“What the hell was that back there with Lucien, huh?”, he growled, “Involving yourself with a mated male?”

“By the mother, you really think we were together, don’t you?”

“Well, you two were certainly acting like it, Feathers.”

You gritted your teeth. Yes, you and Lucien had nicknames for each other, but it wasn’t like that.

“We’ve never laid together, we never will, and I’m not lying!.”

“You better not be. He’s already lived too much pain for the sake of his bond, and I will NOT have you destroy all the effort he and Elain have put in to reach where they are now.”

Pain, for his mating bond? You’d have to ask Lucien about it later, but Azriel sounded so angry about the past events that you doubted you’d get full answers- relationship troubles had never been your forte, not really a model of the healthiest relationship back then, and Lucien had never felt the need to come to you for those types of things. Some things were too personal, even between you two.

“Look, we were barely out of our teenage years when we met! I was in an unfamiliar court for a man that didn’t give me the time of day despite our engagement. I was harassed constantly by all the other Vansera brothers, just like Lucien. We were scared and we were alone.”

Your voice cracked, and you took a breath, trying to steady it. You were shivering with anger, despite the shadows around you attempting to soothe you, caressing your neck. You wouldn’t have anyone try to twist your relationship with Lucien, he was the only real family you had left. Time hadn’t changed that, and neither would empty threats.

“We protected each other until the end. We were going to make it out of there alive no matter what it took, and we did. He’s the only reason why I made it out. So, before you start throwing accusations of situations you have absolutely no idea about, learn to trust your fucking friends. Doesn’t he deserve that, at the very least?”

The both of you were breathing hard, both absolutely on edge. You had no idea what was happening to you, you felt like your insides were catching on fire. You hadn’t let yourself feel in years, and this… rage, within you, it suffocated you, it was too. much.

Your faces were only inches from each other, staring into each other’s eyes. His were hazel. You hadn’t noticed that before.

You had no idea who lunged first, but suddenly were brushing against Azriel’s torso as your lips collided. His hands dropped from the door to your hips, pressing you fully against his chest as one of yours reached for the base of his neck and the other his hair, tugging him closer. If you’d felt like fire before, now you were consumed by the sun itself. Every inch of you was burning from his touch, too much and not enough all at once. His lips moved against yours in a relentless battle, neither letting the other take control. His shadows covered the both of you. You could feel them trailing along your skin, the only source of relief from the heat burning through you.

His hands gripped your backside harshly when you thrust your hips up into him, and you let out a soft moan of pleasure at the contact. He didn’t waste a second, using the opportunity to thrust his tongue into your mouth, sliding against yours as he let out a groan. Something in the back of your mind was trying to get you to stop this, to escape, but you ignored every warning.

Your scents had sharpened, arousal flooding the both of you, mist and cedar overtaking your senses. He tugged at your thighs and you immediately obeyed, jumping to secure your legs around his waist. He crossed the room and deposited you on a wooden surface- a desk? A table? It didn’t really matter. He fit himself between your legs as your lips continued their furious movement, only halting to breathe before you started again, while you slid your hand down his front, feeling every inch of muscle that wasn’t covered by his thick Illyrian leathers. You could feel him against your core, the visible proof of his arousal providing you with only the slightest friction.

His right hand trailed down to your hip and then down between your legs. His thumb pressed ever so softly on your bundle of nerves through your thin pants and panties, and just that had you letting out a low cry against his mouth. He softly shushed you, his teeth nipping your bottom lip.

He reached for your back again, and you arched as you waited for him to pull you closer, but instead you felt his fingers softly brush the back of your wings, treading lightly over the sensitive spot where white feathers connected with delicate skin, making you shudder.

Instantly afterwords, it felt like a cold shower had rained down on you. His hand had trailed up almost exactly to the area where an Illyrian could be clipped- the most vulnerable part of their wing. A Peregryn’s anatomy wasn’t quite the same but whether he knew it or not, the message was the same: he had you completely at his mercy. Gone was the pleasurable consuming heat, replaced by white-hot panic. What was happening to you, letting him touch you, your wings? He was part of the Inner Circle, he contributed willingly to the suffering of thousands of women in this Court, and now he was willing to use those same wings as a sexual tool. Absolutely. Not.

You swiftly pushed him off and jumped down what you could now see was a desk, breathing erratically. Your wings reflexively tucked themselves so tight against your back it felt like you were going to pull a tendon; you leaped across the room making your way to the door.

“Wait!”, he called, his voice scratchy, a hand closing against your wrist. You glanced at him, looking up to see him shocked, concern lacing his eyes. Your fear increased tenfold.

“I can’t- You’re- , FUCK, don’t you dare touch me.”

You harshly tugged your hand out of his, running towards your bedroom at full speed, immediately locking the door behind you. You silently slid to the floor, your back against the door and tears filling your vision as you replayed what had just happened repeatedly. How had you lost control so easily?

Your feathered wings stretched around you as you tried to soothe yourself. You were itching to jump straight off the room’s balcony, let the air stretch your neglected muscles and fly back to the same caves and mountains where no one would find you, but you simply could not, all because of that stupid bargain.

Your hands reached the tendons and muscles of your wings, trying to ground yourself in the present. He couldn’t hurt you; he couldn’t even touch a single feather if you didn’t want him to. Your wings were safe, you were still free, they didn’t know. There weren't sharp hands tugging at your feathers in reminder of your forced submission, no one holding you down as you begged for mercy. You sat there, obsessively running your fingers through the feathers, feeling each and every one you could reach until you let yourself fall to the side, your wings still cocooned around you as you stared at the opposite wall in silence.

In your panic, you hadn’t noticed the doorknob’s wooden surface had smoked beneath your hand in the study. Someone else had.

I couldn't help posting it early!

Many revelations in this chapter! I had absolutely not planned the study scene to be so steamy but sometimes you have something planned and the story decides it knows better than you x)

Please let me know what you think!! This is my first time writing anything explicit, I'd love to hear how it reads <3

Banner created by the amazing @saradika!

Taglist: @sapphenaa

[trek-tracks]

hello! I am also diabetic (type one). I’m curious if when you think of star trek or yourself in Star Trek if you imagine having diabetes still? I think either way is valid, just curious. I go back and forth trying to figure out if they would have cured it or just advanced insulin pumps to the point of being practically seamless with day to day life. For me being diabetic is so integral to my personality I kind of don’t know if I would like to think of it as being cured? It’s cool if you don’t want to answer too! Just thought I’d ask :)

This is an interesting question.

I've always thought about my type one diabetes as being solidly on the second end of the disability "spectrum," so to speak, where the first end is "this is integral to my personality and who I am, accommodate but do not 'cure' me," and the second is "this brings nothing but pain to my life, please cure me immediately."

The only accommodation that would fully make my life better, in my opinion, (which is only my opinion about my own disability), is either a functional cure (artificial pancreas) or actual cure (no machinery necessary), the latter of which I would prefer, because frankly I'm sick of wearing a pump and a cgm 24/7 and the sheer amount of waste it produces, which is not my fault because I need to live, but still weighs heavily on me (and takes up a large amount of space in my apartment). Not to mention the scheduling--this message brought to you by me being woken up at 5am by an empty insulin pump and realizing that, no, I don't seem to have any unused cartridges left, so I have to use an old one and pray that the pump accepts it while waiting for the delivery of the supplies I just now ordered, which cost $750.

When I think about a life in the Star Trek universe, I can really only think about being transferred there now, as I am, with the life I have led, and I think that's what also shapes my decision. If I had been born into the Star Trek universe, there are so many aspects of my personality that might have been different, considering I wouldn't have to worry about scarcity and affordability of, for example, housing. Instead of being a theatre critic as a second job that feeds my soul but doesn't pay the bills, I'd probably be a playwright/dramaturg/critic full time. However, I might find not having a job outside of the theatre world to be detrimental, because when people don't have lives outside of theatre, their writing tends to get smaller and more insular.

This is a digression, but what I mean is: I can only see me as I am now joining a Starfleet world, rather than trying to envision the person I would be if I'd begun my life there. I mean, I certainly wouldn't be known for making memes about Star Trek, the TV show, if Star Trek were reality instead of entertainment, so things would be different in a number of ways. I can't even think about all the ways my life could have been different in this reality without getting a headache.

In that case, I have learned a lot from being diabetic, including patience and empathy for other people, and a strong sense of social justice. I've learned a lot about food and exercise and how they affect the body. I've learned responsibility and self-management. I've made more peace with aging than many of my friends, because I've felt prematurely "old" (aches, pains, contemplation of mortality) since I was a preteen. I think I would have some form of these things without diabetes, but my worldview would likely be different. In a way, I'm grateful for these lessons, and I don't know if born-into-Star-Trek me would be insufferable.

That being said, I firmly believe that having diabetes for more than 25 years means that diabetes has taught me all about life it's going to teach me. I'm done. If I were to wake up tomorrow without it, I'd, in the words of Beyond McCoy, "throw a party." A party with plenty of cake. Or, to misquote The Voyage Home, "The doctor gave me a pill, and I grew a new pancreas!"

Now that it's part of me, its absence might leave me somewhat adrift, but I think of all the time I've lost to it where I could have been enjoying life and been allowed to be the unfettered me I desired to be, and I say, good riddance.

[olenvasynyt]

Hi, i have a question. Is it possible that Elain interest on Azriel has something to do with the fact that he looks human without the wings? because Elain saying she doesn't want a Male and him being a male and they almost kissing kinda confused me a bit.

I got a few things to say about this:

A lot of people say this because of this quote (thanks to @starsreminisce for sharing it with me)

Azriel only sat on his heels and offered me a hand up. My flesh burned as I gripped his fingers, a mortifying number of pine needles and splinters tumbling off me. My back throbbed enough that I lowered my wings, not caring if they dragged in the dirt as Azriel led me toward the lake edge. In the blinding sun off the turquoise water, his shadows were gone, his face stark and clear. More … human than I had ever seen him.

Without his shadows, he looks more human but I feel like this was Feyre noticing the compassion and vulnerability from Az than about his looks. Because remember...he's got giant ass wings. We can't just take that away. This is a moment where he is helping Feyre, showing compassion, and he is showing a bit of his own vulnerability in that moment, becuase he is training Feyre at something he struggled with in her early age. He tells Feyre this and explains a bit of his childhood and also the Nephelle philosophy:

“'You’re immortal.  You’re very hard to break.'  That’s what I told myself.”

Feyre relates being human to being vulnerable. She does that very often, with herself in ACOTAR but also with other characters who show fear: example, this quote when Feyre was describing how she saw the Bone Carver to Rhys:

“A boy—around eight; dark-haired and blue-eyed.” Rhys shuddered—the most human gesture I’d seen him make.

So I have a couple theories on why Elain likes Azriel. And please note: Elain saying she doesn't want a Male and him being a male and they almost kissing one is normal for characters in SJMs story. So many of SJMs FMCs change their mind. In TOG, Celaena was in love with Chaol and he reminded her of home or something along those lines and then they fell off and she's now mates with Rowan. Feyre didn't want to have a kid in ACOMAF, then was thinking about it in ACOFAS, and then had a kid on ACOSF. SJM also isn't afraid of her FMCs having sex with characters who are not their mates, ie Feyre with whatshisname in the barn (I don't remember I'm so sorry) and then Tamlin before she became mates with Rhys, and then Nesta sleeping around in Velaris. Being desperate and trying to find love happens when you're in a low place in your life.

I will be fully honest (and I feel like some Azriel stans might not like this) I feel like Azriel reminds Elain of Grayson. I don't have my books with me so I can't share the quote but there was a part in ACOWAR where we go to the Grayson estate and Feyre describes him to be a knight in shining armor.

The panting young man was so … human-looking. Handsome, brown-haired, blue-eyed, but … human. Solidly built beneath his light armor, tall—perhaps a mortal ideal of a knight who would swoop a beautiful maiden onto his horse and ride off into the sunset.

And then Azriel rescues Elain from the Hybern camp as her knight in shining armor. That's Azriel's biggest thing.

If Lucien was the one who rescued Elain from the Hybern camps and not Az, then Elain would feel more obligated to talk to him tbh. And tbh Lucien would have been watching Elain before the incident and would have never let her get taken in the first place. Mate going feral.

Az is also quite different from Lucien in many ways: light vs dark powers, Az dresses more simply, has dark hair (like Grayson), is part of the Night Court (and Elain might feel pressured to stay in the Night Court and feels the same as Az where three sisters three brothers is the easiest route), and he's also just...not Lucien. Because again, she does not want a mate, which was part of Elain's explanation to Feyre about not wanting to talk to Lucien.

And this might be very controversial but...that bonus chapter? Lucien was there that night on the solstice. The bond might have been pulled tight and Elain might have been influenced (turned on) by that.

Anyways, this was a long reply with a lot of different parts. But E/riel (imo) is meant to add more tension and struggle to Elain and her bond with Lucien. This is part of Elain's struggle with herself and her struggle with fate.

[burning-academia-if]

Lars + sunlight, please!

Lars and sunlight!

“You’re like a vampire.” You bite your inner cheek to stop the grin from spreading across your face. “When was the last time you went outside.”

            Lars squints up at the sky, “For my patrols and for classes.”

            “And both are in the evening. Further proving my point.” He throws you a withering stare, and you ignore him. You’d managed to drag him out, on the basis of whatever fragile connection you’ve managed to build up with him. You hadn’t actually thought he’d agree to go with you. But you were starting to realize that as grumpy as he could be, there was a chance he’d go along with you.

            He might not be happy about it, but he was certainly here with you. He looked ready to burn the whole down, but still. You’d take the wins where could get them.

            “You haven’t told me where we’re going.”

            “I’m working on it—”

            “You dragged me out without any plans?” He turns, ready to leave and already done with your shenanigans.

            Without missing a beat, you jump to stand in front of the door leading back into the grad students’ dorms, “Just go with me. Please?”

            “I’d say no, but then you’ll be annoying as hell about it.” With his permission, or the closest you’ll get to it, you take the lead and try to think of something to do. You hadn’t thought very far ahead, since you’d expected him to say no.

            Now that you thought of it, there was actually one place you’d always wanted to go, “Hey, isn’t there something on the roof of the old theater.”

            His cold look morphed into a biting grin, “Dragging me back to my job, are we?”

            “We’ll be outside. It’s different. Just come on.” He followed behind, expression still twisted in displeasure. Any further attempts at small talk was met with one word answers, but you could keep up a conversation for two on your own, at least.

            At the old theater, there was a ladder on one of the side walls to climb up of. The paint on the railings had long since peeled, and when you squinted up you thought some of the bolts looked just a little loose.

            Lars swung himself up without hesitation, “Let’s get this over with them.”

            “Uh, it’s safe?”

            “It’d suck for you if it wasn’t.” It wasn’t the most reassuring, but you followed after him anyway. The faint sway of the metal creaking under both you weight made no promises to not collapse. Lars didn’t act like he noticed, so you kept going. This was your idea, after all.

            You let out a breath when you swung yourself up and over, landing solidly on less then solid ground. It was a wonder how this place hadn’t been torn down. Lars was already half way across the roof, looking like he already knew what was here. His hands reached underneath what looked to be one of the vents. He stuck his hand in with little care, and pulled out a box.

            “Here.” He tossed it towards you and you managed to catch it.

            “What’s this?” You glanced down, and you noticed it was a small wooden box with a glass panel on top. Little orbs of light floated inside, looking like their own little suns of varying colors.

            Lars shrugged, “Tradition. Whenever someone joins the Student Wardens, they put a little piece of their magic in there. Since heart magicians’ magic looks like colored light, you get that.”

            Your fingers traced over the glass, watching the orbs of light drift around inside, “Which one’s yours?”

            “Figure it out.” He folded his arms across his chest, looking as bothered as ever.

            You couldn’t stop your smile this time, “You know, it was nice of you to share.”

            “Don’t.”

            “What? I can’t even call you nice?”

            “No. Because it’s a fucking lie.”

            You were laughing now, cradling the cause of magic against your chest, “At least your self aware. But really, thanks.”             He merely shrugged, and your eyes glanced down at the box again. All the different colors, but Lars magic stood out to you. The deep dark red. It looked more like the fall of sunset, as such a tiny orb. Lars wouldn’t appreciate the sentiment, so you tucked that information away. Maybe, Lars magic wasn’t always what he made it out to be.

[sapphic-scylla]

First Impression Best to Worst Boss Fights in Shadow of the Erdtree

DLC has been out for a minute and I’ve done my initial runthrough and taken as much as I could from it. Suffice to say, I did love it a lot and thought that it has a solid amount of staying power. This list covers the main bosses only (and a few notable side bosses) and as usual, unless you don’t care about SPOILERS, I recommend not reading past this point:

Midra, Lord of Frenzied Flame: Now, already, I feel like people are gonna disagree with me. Hear me out. When I first hit this fight, I was like “they integrated a PVP-centric status condition into a boss fight. How is that fair?”. And then I thought about it for a second. No fight style makes this fight easier. No weapon, no spell, no armor makes this fight easier. It is as you see it. This man’s attacks can cover almost an entire room, snipe you from a thousand miles away, his melee attacks hit like a train, and builds up your Frenzy, which can leave you vulnerable and chunk your health and FP. But, he also is easy to stagger, he doesn’t move very fast, and his attacks are telegraphed a year in advance. It’s perfect. He doesn’t have a ton of health, but he is absolutely savage. He’s what difficulty SHOULD be and the sigh of satisfaction when you beat him is REAL. You can’t really cheese or simplify this boss beyond KILL HIM and it’s so refreshing to find a boss that no matter your choice of loadout, Midra will keep you on your toes in the most horror game-like way. Also lore wise, the vibes in this entire area were unsettling and immaculate and the “Eyes of Sauron/Winter Lantern” enemies actually made me jump in that horror game fun way and I adored it.

Messmer, The Impaler/Base Serpent: Now, this was the fight I forced myself to learn through sheer force of will. I literally slammed my head against this man for a day because I knew that the only thing that was killing me was my own arrogance and IT PAID OFF. By the end when I finally beat him, I adored this fight. This man lets you fucking have it, but at no point did it ever seem unfair or bullshit or, hell, even free. This fight is a perfect mix of cinematic, difficult, and a riot to learn and improve at and I genuinely look forward to this fight each playthrough now.

Rellana, Twin Moon Knight: A scaled-up version of my favorite base game Dark Souls 3 boss and she didn’t disappoint. Incredible fight, solidly learnable, and definitely one of the highlights of my first runthrough.

Bayle the Dread: The quickest love-hate relationship I’ve ever had the pleasure to wade through. In my first ten tries, I could not help but think “this is the worst. What can I do against this man except die?”. But the more I fought him, the more I enjoyed it and the more fair I found it. He is overwhelming, yes, but his tells are obvious and when you recognize the areas his attacks affect, he becomes a lot less oppressive. He also has the greatest phase 2 transition of all time. I mean my love for Placie has grown over the past few months, but I think Bayle edges out for Second place in best Dragon fights in Elden Ring. Fortissax takes first.

Scadutree Avatar: This fucker seems easy at first, and then he starts driving around. I severely underestimated this boss at first due to how much damage he was taking compared to everything else. Then he hits second phase and until then, I’d never been jumpscared by a sunflower before. Still not the hardest boss by any means, but definitely checks you at the door.

Romina, Saint of the Bud: I mean, outside of the obvious, I don’t know why I enjoyed this fight. Her rushdown is legendary and she deals in Scarlet Rot, so you’d think I would hate this fight. But her tactics ended up being fairly straightforward, her Rot wasn’t as oppressive as I thought it would be, and she really is such an aesthetically pleasing fight.

Putrescent Knight: The goofiest looking creature on this list by far, but this dude kicked my ass several times. He definitely came with his fair share of surprises, but he never felt overly obnoxious or overstayed his welcome. Not the most fun fight, but definitely worthy of more praise than scorn.

Allies of Miquella: Debated putting this in here because it’s more of a PVP standoff than a boss fight, but I feel it’s worth a mention. Nothing particularly exciting, but it definitely is much more of a marathon than I was expecting and a very difficult one at that. Come prepared here. These people don’t pull punches.

Ghostflame Dragons: More a mention than anything. Nothing unique, but it did force me to rethink how to fight dragons a la Darkeater Midir which I enjoyed.

Metyr, Mother of Fingers: Well, we had to hit the lower half eventually. Metyr doesn’t have a ton of health which puts her up here, but I generally dislike bosses that remind me of The One Reborn where it feels like no matter where you hit the boss, you’re still being dealt damage just for walking up to it which, I’m sure, incentivizes spellcasters, but frustrating nonetheless.

Promised Consort Radahn: Malenia without all of the charm and enjoyment. Malenia, I still firmly believe takes the cake in terms of hardest (and best) boss in Elden Ring, but Radahn did not skimp on the difficulty round two. That being said, his move set is far less enjoyable to learn than Malenia’s and often, it just felt the impressive amount of health and the absolutely unhinged amount of capable range this man has is unjustifiable. Plus, Malenia invites aggression and allows for so many ways to contest her despite her making you work for it while Radahn just hurts. Pain for the sake of improvement is great. Pain for the sake of pain is a lot less fun.

Ancient Dragon Senessax: I did not think that the thing that would make me hate a fight like Lansseax or Fortissax would be just setting the damn thing in a pool of water, but here we are. The lightning AOE’s in this fight are ruthless and are a lot less avoidable for how much they stagger on a regular day. Definitely not the worst, but not a fun development.

Golden Hippopotamus: This thing definitely killed more innocent players than real hippos do every year in real life. This thing SUCKS to fight. Camera monsters in general are just a pain, but when half of your screen is covered in porcupine quills (yes, YOU HEARD ME), this thing becomes substantially more of a drag. That and this abomination punches above its weight class and I just generally found this fight as entertaining as a mosquito bite.

Commander Gaius: Fuck this man. I’ve never had a dude kill me so consistently or so consecutively in the first 5 seconds of the fight. It’s been a minute since a boss legitimately made me yell at my TV screen and I did not welcome the experience. Also, this man had absolutely no right or privilege to ride my ass this fucking hard unless he bought me dinner first. Will not enjoy revisiting this dude.

Divine Beast Dancing Lion: Brace yourself. This is gonna be a long one. I apologize in advance. *breathe in* *heavy sigh* I’ve never actively thought any boss in any Dark Souls game was purely unwarranted or worthy of true hatred. Despite all of the bosses I dislike fighting across all FromSoft games, I always attempted to find a bright side or something like lore or environment or something to justify its existence and I had succeeded. Until I met this fucking thing. This menace didn’t have the most kills on me (that goes to Malenia and Messmer) or did anything in particular that actively exploited my playstyle (like Maliketh, Mohg, or the Crucible Duo). This cockroach merely existed and it was enough. Its body is a giant blob. Its hitbox is horrific. It punishes aggression. It punishes passivity. This thing has ranged attacks, melee attacks, magical attacks, passive effects, movement patterns, retaliatory tactics, and even him just looking at me hits like a goddamn truck. He is so hard to read and does so much damage and does the most unhinged, wtf follow-ups that I’ve ever seen with the most hairpin trigger aggression I’ve ever experienced in my life. He does frost damage, lightning damage, physical damage, I’m pretty sure there is fire damage in there somewhere, emotional damage, and mood damage. And, to top it all off, THERE’S A FUCKING SECOND ONE OUT IN THE BOONIES THAT IS EVEN FUCKING WORSE. Basilisks have been in the Soulsborne conglomerate for as long as I can remember and I’ve tolerated their existence until FOUR OF THEM WANDER INTO THIS FUCKING FIGHT AT THE BEGINNING OF PHASE 2. THIS LION HAS A DEATH BLIGHT PHASE. You know, the one status effect in Elden Ring that INSTANTLY KILLS YOU. And the best part? If you don’t kill him fast enough, HE CAN DO IT AGAIN. It would not surprise me if the same sadist that came up with the Double Gargoyle fight came up with this one. And like I said, he doesn’t have the most health I’ve ever seen, but it doesn’t fucking matter. The only thing that matters is how fast you can remove his health because he WILL kill you if you give him any leeway. I fought this thing twice and I know about as much about how to fight this thing as I did the first time I walked into its arena. I succeeded twice by SHEER DUMB LUCK. I despise this thing and if I could actively avoid it, I would not hesitate.

[slocumjoe]

ways people write the companions that make me go hmmm

Gage excluded because I haven't seen enough portrayals of him

Cait; Poor Cait has such confusing, odd writing choices that I can’t blame anyone for doing this, but...when she’s boiled down to either Tough Irish Gal or Traumatized, with little dimension. Again, Bethesda does this themselves in text, depending on ??? so it’s not, like, a big deal. My advice for writing Cait is to remember that she exists outside of being Irish or Traumatized. She’s read/read about Freud, for example. So, she presumably learned to read, likely self-taught. If she read something psychology related, she must have taken an interest in it. That sort of thing. The best way to write Cait is to not take the obvious answer, because Cait’s depth itself isn’t obvious.

Curie; When people write Curie as a stupid, horny, smol bean 2 gud 4 dis world, i throw up in my mouth. Same as Cait, this is Bethesda’s fault. They have a habit of going for funny dialogue instead of sensible. There is no reason for Curie to say half the shit she does, she says it because someone thought it was funny, or worse, sexy. I’d recommend going through Curie’s likes/dislikes and dialogue even more so than I do other companions. Curie has a lot of edges if you go looking for them. Y’know Covenant? Curie supports Covenant. Also, she’s literally a robot in a human body. She’s 200+ years old, too. Make her fucking weird. Y’know how elves/fae are? Like that. Bonus if you make her friendliness off-putting. Being friends with a doctor gets annoying, speaking from personal experience. Also, being a doctor, she knows all about sex and sexual pleasure. She’s not confused what a dick is

Hancock; please acknowledge other aspects of his character beyond horny, sad, or high. He has them, I swear. Do you even know his parents’ names? No. You care only about ghoul dick or stoner jokes. He’s not even a stoner, he does the Fallout equivalent of meth/adderall. Much like Deacon, he does and thinks about other shit. I joke with Hancock as well, but you might notice that none of my actual reacts/headcanons open and close with shit like “he huffs some jet with one hand, fingers you with the other, and thinks about how he sucks”

Danse; i promise you, Paladin Danse is not hypervigilant of people’s asses/tits/dicks/whatevers. He’s not imagining having sex with your busty Sole every time he looks at them. That’s not just not Danse, it’s also very creepy and dehumanizing to both Danse and Sole. Is Sole not more than their tits? Other companions get the too-horny treatment as well, but I see Danse getting it worse of all. Sometimes he’s written as absolute manchild regarding sex, knowing literally nothing, same as Curie. I say Danse doesn’t know what jerking off is as a joke, but he probably knows. But Chronic Virgin Danse is usually a light-hearted joke, Hypersexual Danse is just fucking weird. It gets into unhealthy territory. Like...Danse wouldn’t want to fight people flirting with his crush. He wouldn’t even get aggressive if he was dating Sole. He’s not a hotheaded asshole. Annoyed at best, rude at worst. It’s giving Fifty shades/Twilight/After. 

Deacon; You guys know that when Deacon takes a shit, he isn’t dedicating it to Barbara, right? He isn’t dedicating it to his own redemption, or saving synths? He isn’t thinking up a cool lie to make about the shit-taking? When he has a drink of water, he isn’t like, “Barb used to drink water.” or “The U.P Deathclaws drank water” or “I’m gonna say I killed a behemoth with a water bottle!” Deacon has other thoughts and motivations beyond the meme or the sad. I can’t judge too much, because Deacon himself would approve of being thought of like this, but good god. Just let the dude be a dude sometimes. Let him shit in peace. 

MacCready; might be because he’s the most solidly written, but very few complaints with most MacCready stuff. Him being a little perverted is in character, he’s 22. However, I have seen people straight up forget Duncan and Lucy. It’s okay, though. So did Bethesda.

Nick; Also usually solid, the most common crime is that aforementioned After Shades of Twilight writing. Nick is not a possessive dude. He’s even less likely than Danse to get aggressive over his partner. Yeah, sure, he’s a cop, but is that really the fantasy you want? Really? 

Piper; I have...famously strong opinions on Piper, but good god. Blue this, Blue that, I’m gonna write about this, this’ll look good in my paper, I’m putting this in the news. Oh my God. You’d think Sole was a fucking SMURF with how many writers call them Blue. You’d think Piper dragged her writing press behind her like Sisyphus heaving his boulder along. Same as Deacon and Hancock, SHE DOES OTHER SHIT. People bend over backwards trying to work in the fact she’s a reporter. Same as Cait, the obvious is not interesting. 

Preston; fuck the settlement jokes, I hate it when Preston is turned into an UwU soft boy baby cinnamon roll 2 gud 4 dis world UwU sunshine sweetie pie cutie. Whenever someone does this, they don’t actually like Preston. They have no thoughts, no feelings, they just...I don’t know, want to be contrarion to Preston haters? “Imagine not liking Preston, couldn’t be me ;333″ you realize this is racist, right? Like, you know infantilizing black men is racist? Oh my God you don't know this is racist

X6-88; SPEAKING OF FUCKING RACISM. The highest discourse I’ve seen around X6 is calling it ableist to HC him as autistic, but that is NOT the biggest issue with X6 writing. X6-88 is best described as, like, a very expensive, very spoiled cat of a rich, Old Money asshole. You know the Evil Stepmother’s cat in Cinderella? That bitch. That’s X6 in a nutshell. That’s how you write X6. I’m not even going to get into the racist ass portrayals of X6 because fuck is it tiring, just gonna leave you with this; X6 is best when you see his character for the humor and genuinely interesting philosophies in it, and not when you see him as a BDSM hardcore porn big dick sex god dominant daddy who likes spanking. 

[alyona11]

Apparently half of West End cast fell ill so I didn’t get to see Chris Hades (poor workers were outnumbered today, only 3 person instead of regular 5), but good news, I saw Ryesha Persephone and Zach Hades AND THEY ACTUALLY WORK REALLY WELL???

I was really excited to see the show work as intended: Ryesha seemed in love with her Hades and even a bit excited when he takes her back in Way Down Hadestown. Yet she was very vulnerable, Hades’ words in Chant hurt her so deeply she was looking like she was ready to cry. I loved her voice and her acting.

And they finally got chemistry with Zach! I saw Lauren 2 times, and even though I enjoyed both Zach and Lauren separately I’d say it was hard to see them as a pair that actually wants to stick together which made me question if Hades deserves a chance to fix his relationship.

Also I’m happy to report that Zach seemed to add more nuance to his Hades, he legit looks upset in Chant, and even holds his head in his hands before he strikes with the mean words. He also legit looked anxious and uncomfortable in the beginning of How Long, fiddling with his wedding ring, visibly nervous he seems to be worried his stupid plan ruined his relationship. So when Persephone asks “what are you afraid of” he literally gets a bit startled like she read his thoughts. His delivery of “The girl means nothing to me also seems desperate” and Ryesha goes “I know” quickly and absolutely sure. Also he straight out sobs in Epic. And he stands on his knees hugging Persephone throughout Promises (pulled his inner MPQ, they have a pretty big height difference, Zach is very tall xD). And he also made His Kiss, The Riot less villainous and added more self-reflection to it, it seemed like he wrestled with himself to allow the lovers out.

Ngl I really loved this particular performance, even though I was upset at first because I only bought the ticket to see Chris as Hades, I saw a performance of Hadestown that worked solidly and was enjoying it a lot. 10/10 great experience

[sneakyboymerlin]

Gwaine does not seem to like magic much in the later seasons and happily hunts down sorcerers (dragoon, the guy from 5x05, finna) Thoughts on that?

I’ve answered similar questions before! Unfortunately, Tumblr’s search function doesn’t like me, or I’d link to my older analyses 😔

As early as 3x04 (Gwaine’s introductory episode!), Gwaine is implied to have some bias against magic. Not as severe as Arthur’s, but any bias can be dangerous. When Merlin goes to Gaius and Gwaine about the Stulorne blades, this is the reaction he gets:

Gwaine: I've seen those blades in action. They're forged using sorcery.

There’s quite a bit of emphasis on the word “sorcery” here, both in Gwaine’s speech and in the overall use/placement of it. The fact that the blades are forged using sorcery tells our protagonists why they’re capable of deceiving people’s eyes, but it does not in itself imply danger unless you see magic as a danger.

Later, in 3x08, Gwaine remarks on magic with a similar attitude:

Gwaine: Wyverns. Distant cousins of the dragon. They're creatures of magic, so be careful.

Again, Gwaine expresses their capacity for harm by bringing attention to their magical origins. But the worst is in 3x12, when Gwaine does nothing to stop Arthur from holding his sword against the throat of a child simply because he’s a Druid. Rather, Gwaine pulls his sword on the rest of the Druids when they come out to save the boy. It’s Merlin who has to tell Arthur to let him go. So, Gwaine not only sees magic as dangerous, but he believes that magic and innocence (not as in guilt, but as in youth and vulnerability) are mutually exclusive. He dangerously adultifies a kid who’s <10yo.

Thrice, in the introductory era of the character, pretty solidly confirms his perspective. However, Gwaine doesn’t seem to approach magic as an innate evil the way Arthur does. He more or less ignores Grettir, despite his flagrant use of magic to turn Gwaine’s sword into flowers. In season 5, he sees clearly that the Diamair is a creature of magic, but leaves with an understanding that he owes it his life.

Gwaine’s philosophy is openly stated in 3x04: “Nobility is defined by what you do, not by who you are.” If he’s to be true to this logic, then he has to accept that one’s actions/beliefs determine one’s character, rather than their birth circumstances. He has to apply this to magical people and creatures. And he seems to, in relation to Grettir and the Diamair.

Perhaps not so much to those who he believes “chose” magic, for what he may assume is to the end of greed and power—some of the very traits he hates nobles for. However, there is only one instance to go off of, and it takes place in 5x05, where Gwaine’s like, 2 lines are the one that implies this, and the one telling someone to respect Arthur because he’s a king (even though Gwaine only respects Arthur despite that fact), so I’m inclined to ignore it.

As far as Dragoon goes, Gwaine seems to be under the impression that assassinating Uther would be evil, even though he has no motive for this. Uther had him banished and even threatened to cut his tongue out. I suppose he might just think that killing = evil, but considering how he’s employed to do just that—and it’s what he threatens Dragoon with—it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. Perhaps because he sees sorcerers as a danger, he doesn’t disapprove of the magic ban, and therefore finds Uther’s death to be unjust?

They never really offer an explanation. I think the safest bet is that Gwaine assumes this means that Dragoon would want Arthur—who still holds the ban on magic in place—dead also. “Dragoon” actually plays into this idea.

It would be the same reason for the Finna situation. Arthur has already decided that she’s a threat, and Gwaine is receiving this information through his word alone. Gwaine’s exact quote is: “There’s a dangerous sorcerer at large,” who he wants to protect Merlin from. (It would be a very different story if Gwaine knew that Merlin was her accomplice—or rather, she is Merlin’s accomplice, heehee.)

So, while Gwaine doesn’t “happily” hunt down sorcerers—seriously, more like—he does show a bias against magic, believing it to be dangerous. However, he is also shown to overlook this bias from time to time, and I think it’s safe to say that he would have been able to make a repeat for Merlin if it came to it.