#the violence that entails lol

[chicago-geniza]

Note to self this woman's work along with Genevieve Z.'s and Irena G.'s is going to be Essential for the last section of Fake Thesis, she is literally just Tweeting It Out:

[electric-friend]

i don’t like the surge of casual ‘ed is an abuser’ vibes this izzy clip seems to have sprung. it’s actually making me sick with anxiety that the show is gonna make ed into someone i can no longer enjoy. i really really hope his relationship with izzy can be somehow fixed because if it can’t i think the new season will be really really really bad for my mental state and i mean that so genuinely and seriously it’s not funny.

[orcelito]

The difficulty of planning some serious story things and not wanting to spoil said story things but also not wanting to risk upsetting ppl via untagged serious story things

It's. A balance, I guess. If at that point they've seen all the general warnings and don't understand that this is meant to be an honest depiction, then like. Idk.

[ozzgin]

I love your reader insert stuff!! The yandere yazuka series was vvvv entertaining, I wish I had a big scary gangster to scare away my stalker lol

If you are open to requests, how about Idol!Reader x Yandere!Bodyguard. I love the trope so much, and I'm interested and what you'd do with the idea. No worries if you're not interested tho!

Best wishes

-🌟

I just finished writing it and you've got me punching the air with your prompt. It wasn't really my thing but I'm now sold. Thank you for the trope idea. :’)

Yandere!Bodyguard x Idol!Reader (I)

Short scenario featuring your bodyguard that takes his duty a little too seriously. Not that you’d mind…

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

TW: violence

(Cover from the manga “A girl and her guard dog”)

"Fantastic show tonight!"

The older man guides you in and closes the door behind him. You smile warmly and seat yourself on the sofa. He quickly follows, although at a terribly uncomfortable proximity. His legs are pressed against yours and he extends an arm behind you, pretending to stretch. You shuffle awkwardly and lock your hands in your lap. You can already tell where this is going.

"With your talent, I'm confident we could triple the number of attendants. We just need a bigger venue." He nods at you and taps your thigh with his other free hand as encouragement. You notice the wedding band digging into his skin. 

"Alas, let us not waste the evening with business talk. I'm sure a stunning lady like you has better things to do." He laughs at his own compliment and ponders for a minute. "In fact, why don't we have dinner together? I know a great restaurant in the area."

You open your mouth to speak, but are distracted by the sudden, mild pressure on your leg. Somehow, his greasy fingers have wandered further up in the time you listened to his shameless offer. You've been in this career for long enough to guess what such proposals entail. If you say no, best case scenario he presses further, calling you a stuck up bitch and reminding you who has the power in this partnership. Worst case scenario, he leaves the room and the calls and invitations to perform will gradually drop. 

Yet your situation is special, benefitting from an additional possibility. A loophole, if you may.

Should you scream? Oh, he always gets so angry when you act scared. It's an immediate trigger. He really has a soft spot for your glistening, frightened eyes. You glance up one final time at the perverted smirk silently disregarding you. If you are to be honest with yourself, you'd very much enjoy seeing it wiped off forever. Why not? You're feeling particularly mean today.

So without hesitation, you release a high pitched yell of help. The door bursts open and the hinges creak. A tall, toned man walks in, and without a word he lunges at the manager, pulling him by the collar of his cheap dress jacket. You hold your cheeks dramatically, and bat your eyelashes at your bodyguard.

"H-he tried to molest me..." you mumble between sobs.

That's all he needs to proceed. Now the real fun begins. You can hear the muffled screams of protest. The bones crack and the flesh bends under his iron fists. Standing before your bodyguard, they all end up looking like ragdolls. Comically limp and weak, folding and breaking with no resistance. It amuses you greatly.

When did it all begin? You can't remember anymore. You were in your early years and this scary looking stranger entered your little backstage room. His explanation was brief and to the point: as your fame increases, so will the threats to your safety. He was appointed as your bodyguard. You couldn't care less, so you just shrugged. 

You've always been on the playful side. Not necessarily rude, just some innocent tease and banter wherever it's well received. Seeing him so quiet and stoic, you couldn't help but try to push his buttons: changing in front of him and requiring his assistance, occasionally asking him to pick you up and carry you because you could no longer walk. Naturally you would've stopped at the first complaint, but that's the strange part: no reaction ever came. He went along with everything. You assumed it's part of the job. Celebrities aren't known for their good manners, so hiring someone that loses their temper easily would be a fast ticket to termination.

Then you had your first encounter with one of the unpleasant fans you've been warned about. You could only stare in terror at your bodyguard's feral, unhinged reaction. The unfortunate fan's face was so disfigured, you wondered if anyone could ever manage to fix it back into shape. The bodyguard was panting and you could see the sweat coating his face and chest. You were rather confident there were many other ways to deal with it and this wasn't on the recommended list. Thus you felt compelled to ask the million dollar question:

"You act like a jealous spouse. Do you have a crush on me or something?"

You kind of regretted your audacity towards a man that had just nearly killed someone. But his features softened instantly and he turned to you, wiping his forehead and straightening his collar. 

"I suppose so. Is that an issue?"

As you stared ahead, processing his unbothered act, you sensed your cheeks feverishly burning. Uh oh. You hadn't anticipated such a nonchalant confession. You thought back to all the times you stood before him, bare and flirty. Was he merely holding back his urges the entire time? Or was he finally paying you back for all the teasing? Then again, his face didn't betray any hint of humor.

"I've never heard you joke before", you decided to test the waters.

"I'm not. Why would I joke about something like this?" He gazed at you incredulously. 

As somber and honest as ever. Well, that would indeed explain why he'd let you get away with the cheeky behavior. The more you considered it, the more entranced you became with the idea of indulging in such a relationship. As a famous idol, you couldn't be seen dating anyone. One rumor of you having a boyfriend and the agency would've had your ass suspended. But no one said anything about messing around with your bodyguard. He has to be with you all the time, so no one would suspect a thing. And you could definitely expand his list of responsibilities. You'd been terribly stressed lately, after all, and an outlet to release your frustrations would be most welcomed. Your bodyguard would never refuse pleasing his beloved.

You chuckled and pulled him towards your dressing room, giddy with excitement. Something about his imposing presence, like a wild animal that had just escaped from the leash, aroused you to no end. You've had your share of crazy fans, but this was the cherry on top. 

"Should we leave?"

You're jolted out of your daydreams by his low, rough voice. Ah, you missed the grand finale. Too bad. The bodyguard approaches you, with the shirt wrinkled and the top buttons popped open under the shuffle of his vicious attack. You can feel the knot forming in your stomach.

"Not yet. You know how I get when you act like this..." You pout and look away. "You need to take care of me first."

He grins at your last statement.

"Of course. Is the sofa okay?"

You nod.

"Then let's get you undressed, miss."

Is this what they call a scary dog privilege? 

[josephquinnswhore]

Hi

Can I request a fic where Ellie and Joel are traveling to Wyoming but before leaving they go to a store to pick up supplies

And Ellie asks why they are there and he’s like “I have to stock up for my family “ ( cause he left for supplies “ and she’s in shock he has a family but when they get there, they notice that the house has been raided and there are dead raiders in the house

So Joel starts to freak out and can’t find his wife and kid but then ellie finds them in a hidden shed

And when Joel rushes to them, he’s worried about the blood on her but then she’s like “ it’s not mine”

Sorry for it being so long , and it’s totally fine if you do not want to write it :}

A Mothers Strength

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader.

Summary: you and your baby aren’t where Joel left you, instead there is a trail of blood and two bodies he doesn’t recognise.

Word Count: 3.1k

Content Warning: typical tlou violence, reader bashes someone’s brains in, (out) Joel has a mild panic attack.

Note: I’m gonna make this so angsty lol. Thanks for the request I love you anon 🫶🏼🥰 this is one of my new faves!!!!

If there’s one thing Joel taught you; it’s not to panic, to think rationally and do what you have to do to protect yourself; to make sure you were the one that survived, no matter what that entailed. Joel was gone, he had gone to do one last trip to the Boston QZ, he had gone to trade some pills and alcohol for a car battery, he had found a truck a while back but the battery was busted, he claimed Tess knew someone who had one, he hated leaving you, and your 6 month old daughter. But he knew if you had a car, it would ensure safety compared to travelling on foot. That was 5 days ago, it wasn’t unlikely that something had happened, trading in itself was a danger that set you on edge, let alone travelling by himself back and forth with one measly gun and a whole city worth of infected, however many were out there, you would imagine it’s a lot. You had to learn to fight while you were pregnant, you couldn’t be in the Boston QZ and be pregnant, they wouldn’t allow it. Joel helped you escape and you’d been travelling since, looking for a safe haven and trying to find Joel’s brother Tommy. You’d learned you were capable throughout your pregnancy at taking out infected. Very capable.

Unlike Joel however, you had never had to face up against something even worse, other people. Joel had told you stories of when the infection first began, the things he did, the things he and Tommy did to survive, it was essential, survival of the fittest and you had never reprimanded or judged him for it once. Now you were finding yourself in a situation where you would have to find yourself in Joel’s shoes, you would have to find the strength to take lives of people if necessary, to protect you and your daughter. Joel had boarded up the windows and doors before he left, which apparently only made the raiders more suspicious, their murmurs outside becoming louder and more aggressive as they tear down the planks of wood, two voices of men can be heard. You load your gun quietly and hold it to your chest, your uneven breathing causing you to shudder through your nose as you purse your lips. You take one last look at your sleeping daughter in her small hand-woven basket, blue blankets keeping her warm as they wrap around her. “I love you, so much.” Worried you’d never get another chance to tell her again. You slide the basket under the bed out of sight.

“Hey, did you hear that, there’s movement in there. We’ve got company.” One man laughed as their voices became clearer you realised the protection Joel had set had been torn down; it was up to you now, to protect your family. “What if it’s an infected man?” The other man voices reluctantly as they turn the knob and swing the door open. You tiptoe behind the door, hoping that your daughter would stay quite long enough for you to eradicate the intruders. You held your breath as the door opened and you shot the first man in the head, his body dropped to the floor with a thud, the blood seeping through the cracks of the old wooden floors. The gunshot had rung through the room, you could hear the muffled sound of your daughter crying, her wailing drew the attention of the second man who had just growled, “fucking bitch!” As he charged towards you, he had tackled you to the ground, overpowering you easily as he knocked the gun from your hands, he’s heaving from the struggle, his gun pointed at your head once he’s got you still enough. “Gunna fucking kill you then that annoying fuckin kid.” Adrenaline kicked in at the thought of something happening to your daughter, you struggle underneath him and grunt, bringing your knee up to his crotch which he groans at, “you fucking whore, gonna make you pay for that!” He’s holding the crotch of his jeans when you find a baseball bat hidden in the corner that you’d stashed days ago for an emergency in case you’d run out of bullets, you hurry back wards and grab the bat, standing to your feet and before the man can react, you bring the bat down onto his head, he falls to the ground holding the back of his head to try and protect himself from the blows.

You’re seeing red, yelling over the top of your screaming daughter, rage overcoming you as you repeatedly bring the bat down over and over again. You only stop when your arms begin to ache with a weakness that makes you drop the bat, his brain and blood is coating the floor in a slick that you almost slip on as you step over him. You bend down and reach for your daughter, taking her out of the basket, shushing her, “shh, I know baby, it’s okay. Mama’s got you.” Rocking her back and forth until she calms down. You set her back in the basket once she’s settled, you begin to rip up the floorboards in which have your supplies hidden beneath them. “Well, we can’t stay here now can we?” You tell yourself. You pack your bag full of the supplies, food and batteries weigh the bag down heavily on your shoulders, let alone trying to carry your baby in her wooden basket that’s heavy enough without a baby in it. With one hand, you somehow manage to pick up your gun, turn the safety off and stick it in the back of your jeans. You have to walk over the two dead bodies that have begun decomposing, you couldn’t stay here, not with the smell and mess to clean.

“Alright little one. Let’s find somewhere safe to stay till your dad comes back, huh?” As you take your first step out of the house that was meant to protect you; you wonder if you’ll be able to find somewhere safe, if Joel will be able to find you. You just had to hope he would.

“My pack is heavy Joel, can’t we rest?” Ellie grunts in discomfort as she shuffles the heavy backpack in an attempt to try to get it to sit more comfortably, it doesn’t.

“We ain’t stoppin’ till I say. Ain’t got long left to go so stop complaining.” Joel’s fast on his feet, even though the sun is baring down on him without mercy, he’s sweating in his long jeans and blue flannel shirt that’s well outworn and a size too small, his stomach less toned than it used to be, it was a ‘dad bod’ as you had called it, the sleeves are rolled to his elbows. The skin of his face, the back of his neck and arms are well golden now, after hours of travelling in the sun, the damage had been done and his skin was already tanned, he would have to invest in a hat, like you’d always scolded him about, was was sure you would again, after seeing how burnt he was.

“Ain’t got long now, just a few minutes up the road.” Joel clarifies, they walk along the empty tar road, the green grass is long overgrown, well over a foot taller than Joel, his eyes scan the area for raiders as he knows from past experience that they like to lurk in the tall grass and try to ambush you. It happened one time in this area and he hoped you’d never have to protect yourself like how he has, or does. “What are we doing here?” Ellie asks as Joel’s body had subconsciously led him to the small dirt pathway that led to an old house, the paint was faded green and peeling from the wood that seemed to be rotting. “My family are here. Had to trade something before we left for Wyoming.” For the first time ever, Ellie was speechless, Joel had a family? “What’s their names?” It didn’t take Joel long to notice two sets of footsteps, large, around the same size as his own in a boot print, he knew it wouldn’t be infected, it had to be raiders. “Quiet, get behind me.” Joel growls as he reaches for his gun from the back of his jeans, pushing Ellie behind him with the other arm, he walks forward and sees the wooden planks he’d hammered to keep the building closed, were now on the ground, some snapped in half, the front door was open and the silence was eerily quiet, Joel didn’t like the ache that formed in his stomach, the guilt, the fear.

“Fuck.” He breaths, pushing forward with his gun in front of him, the first floorboard he steps over, because he knows it creaks, “stay here. You hear me? Do not come in here.” Ellie nods, seeing the colour falling from Joel’s face and his orbs are blackened, his exterior is hardened and he’s never seen Joel look so fierce, she almost cant recognise the man in front of her, compared to who he was only a few seconds ago. Joel pushed forward, the dining room was clear, everything seemed to be in place which was odd, as he walks through the hallway he checks the first bedroom which is clear, again seemed untouched which he thought was weird, if it was raiders, why didn’t they raid the house? The boards along the windows had all been torn down, the windows open wide and giving the outside world a look into the house. His heart hammered in his chest as he approaches the bedroom door, where he left you, told you it would be okay, that you would be safe. He almost can’t find the will to turn the knob, scared of what lies inside the room.

When he turns the knob, he’s not expected to be hit with a stench so foul he’s taking a few steps back, he almost pulls his shirt over his nose just to try to mask it, he pulls out a bandana and secures it around the back of his neck, giving him some relief from the smell, but not much, it was a stench he knew too well; decomposition. His body is shaking as he bursts through the door, expecting to find his wife and infant daughter, he finds two bodies he can’t recognise, one with a single bullet wound to the head, the other.. was probably the cause of the smell. His brains were splattered along the floor and upside of the wall, blood was stained and now black as it leaks through the already damaged floorboards, your baseball bat sits a few feet away with a huge chip out of the wood, a giant crack through the middle and brain matter and blood splattered up to the handle. He almost lets a breath of relief escape him, seeing the floorboards pulled up and supplies all gone he can almost conclude that you survived and escaped with the supplies, but where were you? Where was your daughter?

“God damn it where are you darlin’?” He says to himself. When Ellie calls out to him. “Joel! Joel? I think you should see this.” Joel steps over the bodies and closes the door, leaving the bat behind. He meets Ellie at the front door and follows her concerned eyes to a shed about half a mile away from the house, a light shimmering from inside the shed caught their attention. “Get out your gun.” Joel instructs coldly. Ellie doesn’t ask about his family, although she can piece the puzzle together, there was something in there that Joel won’t talk about. Could it have been? She doesn’t want to ask.

“Keep up kid.” Joel quickens his pace to a jog and Ellie stays beside the man, she suddenly forgets how heavy her pack is, and Joel ignores the way the battery digs into his back as he runs; but he’s frantic now, wondering what’s happened to you. He can’t, he refuses to lose you and your baby after all he’s been through since this shitstorm started. The gravel crunches underneath their boots as they run towards the shed, the light shutting off when they get within 50 yards. Someone is definitely occupying this shed.

“Stay behind me, got it?” Ellie only nods, she starts to panic at the thought of approaching this shed, she knew nothing good could come of it, seeing the look on Joel’s face scared her. What the fuck was in that house?

You hear it before you see it, the crunching and shuffling of someone coming in your direction, you had to cut your baby feeding off your breast short, lying her down and rocking her basket for a few seconds so she’d settle and quiet down. You pick up your gun that’s set on the work bench beside you and try to peek through the small hole in the wood, to add to your terrible day- two blurred figures ran towards the shed, arms outstretched which you figured must be guns. Fuck. You look back towards your fussing baby with tears in your eyes, maybe your luck has run out. You weren’t going down without a fight. Your adrenaline was still at a high from the fight before, your body still aching but prepared to gauge out eyeballs if that’s what it took to protect your daughter. Where in the world was Joel? The shed door creaks open, it’s a decent sized shed, although you knew there were only so many places you could hide. You heard a voice, a female, she sounded young, but you can’t underestimate anyone these days, anyone and everyone is a threat. You shimmy your daughters basket under the work bench, where you’d pulled a blanket over it to give her a better chance of not being seen.

You creep behind the work benches, hearing their footsteps you can calculate where they are, you’re going in blind, you don’t know how many people they could have hiding around the area, and that’s what worries you. You see a spanned on the ground and throw it, it lands about 8 metres in front of you and it catches their attention. “Did you hear that?” The girl says, her footsteps are fast and then stop. You hear hushed whispering of a man, but you can’t hear what they’re saying. It’s quiet now, they’ve gone opposite ways around you to try and box you in, one is heading straight for the direction of your daughter, by the heavier footsteps you’re assuming it’s the man’s

Fuck it.

You rush back to your daughter, knocking over some things in the process that gain the attention of the two people, you’re sitting in front of your daughter, the cloth barely holding up, you sit with your gun in front of you, your body aching and you weren’t sure if you’d make it this time. You see the girl first, she’s holding a gun towards you and she’s scared, she doesn’t shoot. It’s obvious she’s never held a gun before and you don’t want to shoot a child. “There’s someone over here, she has a gun.” She says in a panicked state, the man comes running over from behind you, seeing you covered in blood and arms shaking, his eyes are scanning and he can’t see your daughter. “Put the gun down,” he warns the young girl, he approaches you, puts his hand over your gun and lowers it. “It’s me darlin, it’s just me. Where is she? You’re covered in blood.” The panic in his eyes and voice is evident, his body tense as he kneels down to you. You don’t say anything, you just pull down the cloth that’s behind you, exposing your fussing daughter in her basket, in the same blue blanket Joel had wrapped her in a few days ago.

“S not mine, the blood.” You’re trembling as you feel the adrenaline leave your body, you were exhausted, eyeing the young girl that was standing there awkwardly. Joel picks up your daughter, rocking her with tears in his eyes, “hi baby girl. It’s your dad, I’m so sorry I left you behind, promise I won’t ever leave you again.” Joel turns to you, “cmon darlin’, we gotta get you up.” Joel helps you up, you stand on wobbling feet like a newborn foel. He sends you a concerned look and you turn away, “I’m fine.” You lie, he notices but doesn’t protest, he’d get to the bottom of it later.

“This is Ellie, she’s comin with us. Ellie this is my wife and daughter.” The girl awkwardly waves and you mutter, “hey, sorry bout the gun kid.” She shrugs, “no big deal. You seem like you’ve had a worse day than mine.” You just shrug in respond, not wanting to talk about it.

Joel makes quick work of putting the new battery in the truck and it starts, having half a tank of fuel your luck is beginning to change. You pack the supplies into the car and Joel begins to drive, it doesn’t take Ellie long to fall asleep in the backseat. Joel’s hand rests on your leg, trying to offer some comfort. “We don’t have to talk about it, jus know I’m here for you.” You look away as you start crying, tears just fall one after another. “Said he was gonna hurt our baby, I just lost it Joel, I blacked out I just- I had to protect her. I don’t even feel guilty, that’s the worst part. I took a life so brutally and I don’t even feel bad about it.” You look to Joel and his eyes are soft, the wrinkles on his head are prominent as he frowns softly. “You did what you had to do darlin’. You kept our family safe. He was a bad man, he got what was comin’ to him. You don’t ever feel bad for protecting your family. You won’t ever have to do it again. I ain’t ever leavin’ you two again, I promise you.” Joel’s own eyes start to blur as tears fell from them, from fear and relief. “Joel?” Your voice is quiet as he looks to you, “are you okay?” He sighs, trying to even his breathing. “I saw the windows and the door open and I just thought the worst, then I smelt the blood and I was terrified that I was goin to find you and-“ he chokes up, unable to finish the sentence, he thought he would find you and your daughter dead. “We’re okay Joel. I fought, just like you taught me to.”

“An now I’m never gonna leave again, can’t risk losing you two, not after everything.” “I know Joel, I believe you.” There’s a moments silence between you when you notice how burnt he is. “You’re sunburnt.” You deadpan, unamused. Joel looks bashful as he rubs the back of his sunburnt neck, “I know. Promise I’ll get a hat soon.”

[gacha-incels]

tbh I didn’t know the incel Joker obsession spanned across incel groups outside places like the US where this imagery originated from. like in those clothes this guy looks like a kid on Halloween. he woke up, dressed up in clown clothes, did his makeup and drew a goofy ass smile on a medical mask. he’s holding what looks like a nerf or water gun while at the same time espousing extremely real and violent threats to women. there is a strange juxtaposition happening between the way he’s chosen to represent himself here as, essentially, a kid’s comic book character and his violent words. Of course to these guys this character is a “symbol” for them, we don’t need to argue that and I don’t want to be reminded about how much money and film has been dedicated to these comic books lol. using this image is Iike a fast forward button for any actual PR or messaging he wants to say to his fellow incels, especially if he wants people to join and spend money. I’m not talking about that but rather the optics of using a comic book character, something typically associated with children.

imo this and the extremely violent reactions we have seen here and in the west regarding videogames (the previous “gamergate” and whatever stupid shit is happening now) have some overarching similarities. are these guys worried about the abuse workers suffer in the industry? No, they don’t want the boogieman “femi” working on games, they don’t want the boogieman “SBI” touching their games, etc, you’ll see a lot of these guys say it’s because they want these games to remain as “escapism” for them with “no politics”. all of this is incredibly naïve. politics affect every single part of a game - who gets hired, what gets made, what story that gets told, the characters, the marketing, the budget (and sponsors and everything that entails), etc. when you see them write about “SJWs” all at once, and suddenly it’s “SBI” all at once, and then suddenly this turns into “DEI” etc, it’s because these misogynists all watch and listen to the same group of big misogynist “influencers” and will parrot everything they say. So we’ve got the following all together - idolizing and dressing up like the comic book character the Joker, an unhealthy attachment to videogames with a “no girls allowed” attitude, blaming everything on women and minorities, a naïve understanding of how the world works, and these Daddy-figure influencers. It seems like some sort of self-inflicted arrested development (idk if this term is still used I just mean they refuse to grow up/mature, and this is specifically on their own accord) to me, it’s like they let themselves have the thought pattens of kids/teens and completely wallow in this, but with the violence and brutality of adults. blame everything bad in your life on women, it’s the thought process of a petulant teen boy, every woman with short hair is a feminist, legitimately how a child would think, but taking a knife and brutally attacking a woman with short hair and the bystander man who tried to get between you is the violence and strength of an adult. but these guys are so legitimately pandered to by society, placated by companies and have made entire communities and cottage indu$tries based on hating women/ believing that everything wrong in their lives is because of women that there’s no reason to “grow up”. It benefits them, they never have to think they’re wrong, and they enjoy it. this is at least a small part of what goes in to this I’m guessing, so much of this is so oddly childish with the emphasis they put on comics and videogames yet extremely violent in real life

[riddle-me-ri]

a/n: don't mind me being super self indulgent again asdfgh. I just really enjoyed the dynamic I made in Zeroing In with Bigby and a singer/performing reader. I may or may not make a smutty part two we will see lol. Hope y’all enjoy!

Content Warning: Strong language, attempted sexual assault, brief mentions of sexual harrassment, some violence.

Word Count: 2.3 k

Bigby Wolf x F!Reader - Take Me Home

As a long time performer, you know how to work the crowd with your musical numbers.

You knew you should probably be looking around and engaging with other audience members.

You just couldn't help it though.

Especially when he was around and seemed to genuinely be enjoying himself for once.

Bigby Wolf kept his word when he said he would come around and see you perform whenever he had a chance and not just show up searching for perps.

He's managed to come by at least once every other week, and needless to say, it always was the highlight of your week.

You two have tried to make plans outside of both your work schedules, but it's been difficult to manage between the long nights you both kept and Bigby occasionally dipping in and out of the picture.

Don't let him be on a case either. He stays clear of you like a bad omen. You know he's worried about getting you somehow involved in whatever the case entails, but you did wish he could share more of his worries onto you so he didn't have to carry so much.

You two managed to settle somehow with these interludes of eye contact and small knowing smiles.

At least until one night when you weren't smiling anymore.

During your act, you got close to the edge of the stage and teased those up front, just like any other night–

Until you felt a sweaty palm clamp around your ankle and almost yank you into the audience below.

You barely remember hazy glimpses of everything that happened afterward.

A shrill sound rang through the live band and filled the club.

It took hours later for you to realize that was…you…screaming in shock.

The man's other hand barely touched your inner thigh, clear intent of fully grabbing and dragging you into his lap until he instantly let go.

Before you even tried to push the man's hands away, he let go.

You saw Bigby hovering over the man.

He had slammed the man's face into the hard wood table, the cheap white linen doing nothing to comfort the assault as it started to stain with blood.

You caught a glimpse of yellow in Bigby’s eyes.

You couldn't make out any words anyone was saying. It was all a murmuring cacophony of surprised, worried, and tense patrons.

Your skin ran cold, and your breathing hitched.

The next thing you recall was getting up and darting back towards your dressing room.

Anything to get away from what just happened.

~

“Aww man, I think you broke my fucking nose.”

“You're lucky I don't break every bone in your goddamn body, starting with your grimy little hands.” Bigby snarled, with half a mind to slam the asshole's face again.

He did settle for twisting the guy’s arm tighter as he slapped handcuffs on him.

“Hey, hey, what the fuck man? I didn't do nothin’!” The man defended as he tried to sit back up, blood dripping down his nose and over his lips.

“You touched her inappropriately, pretty sure that files under assault.” Bigby roughly lifted the man up from his seat and dropped him to his feet, causing the man to stumble some.

“Oh please, she was teasing me! Practically asking for it!” The man spat as he got his footing before Bigby dragged him out of the club.

Bigby tried to keep his growl down but whether or not he succeeded he frankly didn't care at the time.

At least until he was out of public view.

As the two began the walk to the Woodland and the coast was clear, Bigby snatched the man by the baby hairs on the back of his neck and pulled his head back.

The man yelped in pain.

“Listen here fucker, she didn't ask you for fucking shit. She was doing her job, last thing she needs is a bunch of grabby dickheads like you that can't keep his hands to him-fucking-self.”

“Is she your’s?”

Bigby blinked. “What?”

“You fuckin’ her or somethin’, Wolf? Never seen you get all up in arms over some whore.”

Bigby dragged the man into a nearby alley and smacked the man's body and face directly against a damp cold brick wall.

“Ow! The fuck man, you-aaah?” The man winced in pain as claws began protruding from Bigby's fingers, pricking the skin of the man's neck.

“Listen here, you sorry piece of shit. Doesn't fucking matter who she's with or what she does. You don't get to fucking touch her–you don't get to do what you damn well please. Understand?” Bigby growled, his teeth slowly growing into the “what big teeth you have,” territory.

For the first time since the encounter started, the man began quivering in terror.

“Y-y-yeah, yeah, understood…just-just do what you gotta do…please don't hurt me, man, please! It was a mistake, h-honest!”

Bigby got closer to the man's face one last time and snarled. A final warning.

Usually, Bigby would feel bad about making anyone beg for him not to hurt them. He'd be disappointed that they would automatically assume he would.

For this guy however, he wanted to muster up that same level of fear you likely felt when he grabbed you and then some.

Bigby backed off once he began smelling the unmistakable hint of piss through the night air.

“Just keep your mouth shut the rest of the way, or it'll be the last mistake you ever make.”

The quicker he locked this asshole up, the quicker he could get back to check up on you.

~

You sat there in front of your vanity with your head hung low and the lights dimmed.

Still frazzled and stunned from the moment.

Somehow, the man's slimy touch lingered on your skin, and you wanted nothing more than to dip your leg into some kind of disinfecting acid.

You took a deep breath and admitted that the second best option besides the acid is to go home and take a long scolding shower until the hot water ran out.

You rose from your seat and began shedding your clothes that used to make you feel so confident and sexy…but in the moment you just felt disgusted.

Then you heard a knock.

You assumed it was your boss checking on you. “I'll be out in a minute, Carol…just gimme a second..”

“Uhh…it's Bigby.”

You freezed for the second time that night.

You had completely forgotten about him. Until his voice reminded you of what he did, how he saved you, how he looked when he did it.

“Bigby? Oh, uh, hang on.” You darted across your dressing room and snatched a silky maroon robe that hung over your dressing screen.

You took a deep breath, a desperate attempt to calm your shot nerves.

Suddenly, a comforting warmth draped over your body as you laid eyes on Bigby. Like somehow, he could protect you from this lingering fear that resonated in you like he did before when it happened.

“H-Hey…”

“Hey,” he responded. “I wanted to check in on ya…how are you holding up?”

You gulped. “F-Fine I suppose, all things considered…I know it could have been worse, and I always knew I was at risk, but nothing prepares you for when it happens, you know?”

“Yeah, but you shouldn't feel at risk for something you do for a living.”

You exhaled a chuckle. “Says the sheriff who's at risk quite literally all the time.”

Bigby shook his head. “You know what I mean. That asshole had no right to be touching you…”

He sighed. “What happened tonight was not your fault…I hope you know that at the very least.”

You hugged your arms around yourself, your hands sliding up and down your upper arms as you gazed at the floor. “Yeah, I know…”

There was a beat of silence before you felt a warm hand lightly squeeze your shoulder. You followed the hand with bruised knuckles back to Bigby's face.

One of your hands came up and rested on top of his hand that was on your shoulder.

“Thank you, Bigby…” You squeezed his hand back gratefully. “At the end of the day…I'm just grateful that you were there.”

Bigby can't recall the last time anyone ever said those words about him or his help. He always made things worse, more difficult, or made Fables regretful for getting him involved.

It felt nice to be appreciated, and it felt even more sweet and genuine coming from you.

“I'm glad I was there too…”

He allowed you to drag your soft thumb along his knuckles for a moment. Both of you enjoyed the soothing silence and close proximity. You found yourself feeling more at ease each second he was there.

Until a question popped into your mind. “C-Can I ask what happened to him? Like where he is now?” Suddenly, the thought of trekking home became cumbersome.

“I've got him in a holding cell for now. I'll be presenting the case to the Business Office tomorrow morning some time…”

Bigby reluctantly pulled his hand back, you already missing its warmth and soothing weight.

“Although, full disclosure, even if he is found guilty… the time and punishment for sexual harassment is ridiculously short and sweet…”

You nodded. “I had a feeling, but Carol told me he won't be coming around anymore. She has started a banned list and is trying to invest in more security.”

“If you need me to…”

“Bigby, I can't ask you to do that. You already have every other Fable to worry about…”

“I do, but you come first….or at least that's how I wish it could be, if I can help it.”

You blinked, your mind racing with countless meanings to what he was implying.

“Besides, I think you're the only one that really appreciates my help anyhow.” Bigby muttered into his shoulder, but still clear enough for you to hear.

“I'll always appreciate you Bigby…like how I appreciate your offer, but I still can't ask you to do that…I know you will protect me when you can and that I can rely on you and honestly in the world we live in now, that's more than enough.”

Your heart swelled at the soft smile that stretched across his face.

“I guess I can accept that.” He reluctantly conceded. “Is there at least anything I can do for you now? Anything at all before we both call it a night?”

After talking to him, you have begun to feel much calmer, like you could shake off tonight's events. You know you could have gotten to that point yourself, but Bigby made it a whole lot easier and quicker.

You almost felt childish and selfish for this request, but you didn't want the opportunity to have him to yourself longer pass.

“I, uh, still have to walk home….if you don't mind walking with me? It's not far from the Woodland, just one block before it…”

“You don't have to convince me, and I did say anything. Just let me know when you're ready.” He offered a sincere smile.

“You wanna wait inside? I didn't even realize I didn't invite you in.” You giggled as you realized he was still standing in the hallway across the threshold of your dressing room door.

“Uhh…sure, if you're fine with it.” Bigby walked in and took a slow glance over your dressing room.

“More than fine. Here, you can have a seat on the sofa over there. I just gotta change real quick.” You explained as you rounded the corner and went behind your dressing screen.

You couldn't fight the pep in your step, having him back in your vicinity. You didn't feel on edge or uncomfortable to be yourself. You felt safe.

Bigby kept looking around. He was observant to a fault, especially thanks to his senses that don't let him miss anything.

He noticed the Polaroids of you and likely your co-workers and friends bordered along your vanity mirror.

He took note of a couple empty bottles that were in your trash can, he deduced it must be a favorite of yours.

He also caught an almost empty container of your body spray that was the source of your sweet scent.

Not that he'd say it out loud, but if you asked him you didn't need the spray, your own scent was intoxicating on its own.

Bigby shuffled a bit in his seat as your own smell became more prominent once he saw your robe hanging over the screen folds you hid behind.

He kept darting his eyes around the room, trying to distract himself from thinking of you so intimately despite the close quarters and the small distance between him and your naked form.

Bigby shook his head to try and shake the thoughts out. He doesn't want to screw this up, not like how he always does. You've been through enough as it is.

Thankfully, you came out soon from behind the screen. You wore a long sleeve sweater of your favorite color that revealed your shoulders and some pants.

“All right, I'm ready…thanks again, Bigby.” You stood in front of him and rubbed your hand up and down your arm, playing with the sleeve.

“Hey, like I said.” He stood up at his full height, and you had to look up instead of down at him. “Not a problem.”

He walked over to the door and swiftly opened the door. “After you…”

“Why thank you, sir.” You giggled bemused before walking out the door with Bigby walking beside you.

Carol waved to both of you and told you to take the next couple of days off to recover and not worry about anything.

You sighed. Another small weight taken off your shoulder, you weren't sure if you would be able to get back on stage, so it was relieving to hear you had the next couple of days off.

As you and Bigby exited the building, the cold night air hit both of you. Almost instinctively, you grabbed for Bigby's hand, who didn't seem to mind, and gently returned the grasp.

Bigby gave you a supportive nudge.

“Well, lead the way…”

[anamericangirl]

When people say LGBTQ rights, they're advocating for protections against violence and discrimination for these groups.

Let's take a look at trans people for example.

60% of trans people face discrimination every year. That is to say 3 out of 5 trans people will be be denied something like healthcare, food aid, housing, or face discrimination in their workplace or their school at least once a year. It makes them one of the most (but not the most) discriminated against minorities in America.

They also, you know, have to deal with hate crimes and violence from people who want them seriously injured or dead.

Plus attempts to outlaw their existence by either preventing them from legally being seen in public or by preventing them from recieving GRS or HRT.

Anyone who thinks equal rights has been achieved in this country for LGBTQ people is simply wrong.

Anyone who is against the idea of equal rights for LGBTQ people either doesn't understand the meaning of equal rights or is a bigot that wants discrimination against LGBTQ people to go unpunished.

LGBTQ people (and lots of other minorities) need more protections than what they already have because it's the best way to significantly limit or end discrimination against them.

They are protected against violence and discrimination because violence and discrimination are already illegal. Against anyone. They just want special provisions just for them.

And having seen what they are considering "violence and discrimination" these days I'm not inclined to believe they are actually as targeted as they claim. They are trying to re-invent what violence and discrimination are because they want to be victims so bad but like 99% of the time I hear one of them claim they've been a victim of violence or discrimination what really ended up happening was someone had an opinion they didn't like and it made them mad or they were subject to the same rules everyone else is.

I'm not willing to give people extra protections against violence and discrimination when they can't even tell me what violence and discrimination is or prove that they even need it.

I think you don't even know what discrimination is because simply being denied something is not discrimination and you implied that it was so I don't trust any of your statistics lol.

What is the alleged violence and discrimination they are facing? Give me specific examples. And what do these "protections" against violence and discrimination look like? It's already illegal so if you want something further you need to explain in detail what that means and what it would entail.

[darlinglovely01]

ermmmmmm i initially wanted to wait until i filled out a whole page of milo doodles to post the whole thing, but i'm getting impatient so i'll just post these as a wip lol

first doodle is the initial sketch, or a shapes check as i like to call it, since i was just trying to figure out how to draw him in my style (which entails figuring out the shapes). and second doodle is a sprite redraw

i wanna do sprite redraws for manipulation and violence milo as well, and then some miscellaneous doodles/redraws/whatever

[blindmagdalena]

Maybe I never picked up on it well but were Maeve and Homelander in like a real real relationship? Like was Maeve ever actually into him? She's part of his shrine and he wanted to have kids with her but I feel lost on her side of things lol

in the s3 finale, Maeve said to Homelander in no uncertain terms "From the start, I hated you." interestingly though, she follows that up with, "But what's more, I fucking pitied you." and i always wonder how much Maeve really knew about Homelander. whether she knew about the lab, the bad room, Madelyn, Vogelbaum...

it could be that their relationship was always some kind of publicity move. it might have even been baked into Maeve's contract that she was coming on to play a character, and that character is dating The Homelander. it's entirely possible she wouldn't realize what all that really entailed until it was too late. she started off as a naive and optimistic girl from the south, just like Starlight.

aside from that we really don't get a lot of detail on their relationship. Homelander claims she only started to "pull away" from him 6 years prior to the start of the show, but we also have no idea when Maeve joind the Seven. Homelander tells her that she's the one he's known the longest, but that also conflicts with a lot of other information we have. according to canon, it should be Noir he's known the longest.

as for Homelander, he's never been good at making a distinction between fiction and reality. even if she did start off as his "pretend" girlfriend, his entire life has been a performance. of course he would take it to heart and want to make that fantasy real.

we see the same thing happen when he traps Starlight in a fake dating plot. he has a moment of vulnerability and takes her hand to tell her, "I'm really glad you're here," as if she really is his girlfriend.

realistically, it probably went exactly like this with a young Maeve. she disliked him off the bat, but she played her part. she gained her fame and her success all while Homelander chewed away more and more of her. eventually she grew into an accessory to his violence and cruelty, and with that she became deeply cynical and miserable. she resented him, but she was also deeply afraid of him. we know that Homelander has done horrible things to stake his claim over her, and it wouldn't surprise me if she was afraid he would do worse to her family. maybe with the breakup, she just finally reached a point she felt she had nothing left that he could take from her.

Homelander loved Maeve in the only way he knew how to: he possessed her. even after she broke up with him, he still thought of her as his. so really, it depends who you ask. It was real to Homelander, and it was a living nightmare for Maeve.

[shinynewboots]

Staring at the Sun / Adam x Lute Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Adam's Interlude

Summary: After the battle, Lute attempts to flee with Adam. They find themselves unable to return to Heaven and must adjust to life in Hell.

AN:

Hi all! A little bit different of a chapter since I wanted to give a little bit of Adam's perspective and insight. I do want to say that as far as Adam becoming a reflective drunk (which def is situational, I promise there will be a fun party/drinking chapter at some point), I felt that would be the most accurate portrayal. I was worried about him coming off as ooc but Adam has had a very long life and I really envision heaven as being a place that numbs all bad feelings. And suddenly, all these feelings that Adam has bottled up are being exposed one by one. And if the writing seems weird and abrupt, I was trying very hard to convey the drunk musings experience (lol from first hand experience)

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed it! I apologize for the chapter being so short. It has been a very long two weeks for me at work lol

Warnings: Violence, gore, 18+ eventually, Adam-typical misogyny, alcohol use

Chapter 5

Chapter 7

“This is so much better than that watered-down shit they serve in Heaven,” Adam said, sipping on the Old Fashioned that Husk had just finished making at the bar. Only he, Husk, and Angel Dust were left in the foyer of the hotel as most occupants had retired after the intense mid-morning activity. 

“Watered-down? Some heaven if they don’t even give you the good shit.” Angel answered, an eyebrow raised as he took a sip of his pink cocktail.

Adam shrugged. “Something about the desire for temptation or some bullshit like that. It’s hard to get liquor anywhere in Heaven anyways, it's mostly just light beer or wine.”

“Paradise, huh?” Husk scoffed, wiping down the bar with a rag. 

Adam had to agree to an extent. He hadn’t been good and drunk since he was alive; whether that be due to his angelic status and resistance to alcohol or the lack of options in heaven, he had no idea. Heaven was a paradise, but it was a controlled paradise. Overindulgence was unthinkable. Impurities that lingered from the living were snuffed out quickly.   

The lack of control was one of the things he missed most about living; it was one of the reasons he looked forward to the Exterminations each year. Extermination Day was one of the only days where he could feel, well really anything. There was no high Seraphim to keep his emotions and actions in check. No snitching saints to remind him of his status as First Man and the image that entailed. Just him and his team of Exorcists killing shit and leaving carnage in their wake. 

The whiskey of the cocktail burned as it traveled down his throat. Alcohol hadn’t burned in a long time, and so Adam relished the feeling. He could already feel the cloudiness start to wrap around his head. 

His time in Hell since the failed Extermination Day had been nothing but feeling. The wounds in his chest, his abdomen, his back. He felt them constantly and was reminded of their presence with every minuscule movement. His palms had moments where they would grow sweaty. His mouth would run dry. His skin would form gooseflesh during intense feelings or emotions.

He didn’t feel completely numb for the first time in centuries.

He knew Lute was feeling the effects of Hell as well. He noticed it in the way she would flinch from the pain of her arm (she tried not to make it obvious, but he could always tell). He noticed it in the way a flush would rush to her cheeks when she was unsure or embarrassed (Lute would never have done such in Heaven).  He noticed it in the way her pulse had quickened under his touch when he cleaned her wounds.

He also knew that if they had been in Heaven, their wounds would have completely healed by now. Even the most severe injuries would only take a day or two to heal in Heaven.

He had his suspicions. But suspicions required investigations that led to ugly truths. And an ugly truth was not something Adam felt inclined to acknowledge at present. 

And so, he knocked back his rocks glass of whiskey and relished the burn that accompanied it.

“What do you even do in Heaven if there’s no good booze or drugs or anything remotely fun?” Angel asked, eyebrow raised as he watched Adam shoot his drink. Husk began to make a second cocktail for Adam (and himself one, because it felt like the beginning of a long afternoon).

The two hotel occupants still eyed him warily but were not nearly as antagonistic as they had been yesterday. Adam suspected Charlie had something to do with the change of heart.

“Fucking everything. Heaven has everything you could ever fucking dream of. It’s paradise.”  Adam said, taking the freshly made cocktail that Husk had pushed in his direction.

“Except booze.”                                                                                  

“Or gambling.”

“Or porn.”

“Or—”

“I got it,” Adam exclaimed, taking a sip of the Old Fashioned. “Heaven’s not about what you don’t have. That’s not what makes it fucking heaven. In Heaven, you don’t worry. You don’t stress. You’re not at risk of some asshole screwing you over or killing you just because they feel like it. Missing booze and drugs and every other vice just isn’t a thing in Heaven. It doesn’t even cross the mind of most Winners that they are lacking in anything because Heaven is supposed to fulfill everything.” 

“Sounds like it gets boring after a while,” Angel said, nursing his drink. He had a solemn, faraway look in his eye. Husk also seemed to be in deep thought. Fucking shit, all Adam had wanted to do was get drunk and feel good. Not any of this thought-provoking bullshit. 

“Doesn’t everything after a few millennia?” Adam scoffed, the haze in his head trying to pull him into introspection. Fuck, he didn’t want to think and dwell and re-live thoughts and memories. He grabbed his drink and moved from the bar to the fireplace and sank into the sofa. Anything to get away from the two fucks who were making him think.

Since the Extermination, Adam had felt very exposed while in Hell. He could no longer hide under the cover of his exorcist mask, which had broken and likely had been fought over by scavenging sinners. And without the mask, he wasn’t the leader of the exorcists or Adam, the mythical first man. He was simply, Adam the man. Without the mask, he was so obviously human, even with angelic eyes and wings. 

Not to mention the vulnerability of having to rely on the hope that the Hotel occupants wouldn’t kill him or Lute. However, the only truly threatening occupant (aside from the psychotic maid)  was the Radio Demon who seemed to be kept on a decently tight leash. 

Well there was Vaggie, but Vaggie would never truly harm him or Lute. Not if she wanted to stay in the good graces of her girlfriend. He didn’t necessarily feel remorse for being apart of the cause of her to fall (fuck, she seemed happier here anyways) but he also didn’t like to dwell on her past life as an exorcist either. 

Excorists. Lute. Lute really was the last person he had left. She could have just left him to die (honestly, maybe she should have) but she didn’t. And she was damned right down here with him for it. 

He had always known she was loyal. Most of his exorcists were. She had taken on so much responsibility over the centuries, things that he delegated to her time and time again until he was nothing more than a figurehead. Oh, he was still the all-time symbol of the exorcists. Adam: The First Man. But Lute was really the one running the show. 

He would make his appearances, sure. Watch their trainings. Give the occasional encouragement or feedback. Occasionally get his ass kicked by one of his girls just to give them an ego-push. But as far as day-to-day management and liaison between himself and his girls, that was all Lute.

Adam took a swig from his glass, unable to concentrate on anything besides his white-haird lieutenant. What had he done in his eternal life to deserve her loyalty?

She was Lute. Just Lute. 

Just Lute, the only person who thought maybe he was worth saving. He was still too sober for this. 

Fuck it, he needed another drink. Or two. Or three. 

Lute had finished showering and pulled on an oversized t-shirt and shorts to lay down. The warm water on her face had helped with the swelling but honestly, nothing sounded better than laying down and simply sleeping the pain off. She had made the decision to lay in the only bed in the room, Adam’s bed, as the cot was long forgotten and stored away. He had been gone for a few hours or so and she was confident she would be awake by the time he decided to come back.

She laid down on the bed, her wings wrapped around her tightly like a blanket. The pillow was soft and smelled of Adam, with its notes of spice (courtesy of the hotel shampoo), and a pleasant outdoors smell that always seemed to linger around him, even in Heaven. Lute assumed it was due to his humble beginnings as the First Man, but who was to say. 

The smells and comfort of the bed wrapped around her and she felt herself relax in an unfamiliar way. Her eyes grew heavy and she could feel herself being seduced into sleep.

She was—

Knock! Knock!

Her eyes abruptly opened and she groaned.

“Hey, Lute can you open the door!” Adam called from the other side of the door. His speech was slurred. Great.

Lute rose from the bed, regretful to leave her brief paradise. She pulled the door open to find Adam leaning dangerously against the wooden frame. His eyes were glassy and his face was contorted in a grin that Lute could only describe as shit-eating. 

“Hey Bitch!” He exclaimed, swaying dangerously into the room. Lute’s eyes widened and she rushed to support his tall stature under her small frame. “You didn’t come down and drink with me.”

“I was tired,” She muttered, trying to adjust his weight. Adam let out an exaggerated groan.

“Excuses!” He said, letting out a loud laugh. “What were you doing instead?”

“I was about to take a nap,” Lute deadpanned. She began trying (and failing) to guide him into the room. Fuck, this would have been so much easier if she still had her other arm. 

“Lute! That’s a fucking great idea! Let’s take a nap!” Adam said, suddenly much more steady on his feet and standing at his full stature. Lute abruptly found herself being guided to the bed by Adam, who had placed a carefree arm around her waist. His hand was large and warm as it rested upon her waist and she could feel a blush come to her cheeks. 

“I don’t know Adam.”

Adam stopped moving and looked down at her. He was pouting. Full on pouting. His bottom lip was pushed out and his had widened his eyes in an exaggerated fashion. 

“You’re tired right?”

“Yeah?” She answered hesitantly. 

“Exactly!” He exclaimed, pushing her towards the bed once more. “And I haven’t had a fucking great nap since being on earth. The secret to a great nap is to be drunk as shit.” 

Lute sighed and looked up at him with a smile. This wasn’t necessarily appropriate, but fuck what had been the last few weeks. Every day Lute could feel the invisible line of their relationship blur into oblivion even more. And yet, she didn’t want to stop whatever actions either of them were taking. She also didn’t want to dwell on it anymore. And a nap sounded fucking great.

“Okay,” She said, agreeing. Adam’s face lit up and suddenly she found herself thrown over his shoulder as Adam moved them both over to the bed. 

“Hey, watch your stitches!” She exclaimed, her face even redder than it had been moments before. Adam only laughed in response and sat her on the bed. He pulled off his shoes and crawled onto the other side of the bed. 

He laid his head on the pillow, his wings expanded out from under him. He looked at her expectantly, his right arm spread out her side. “Come on!”

Adam grinned at her. Lute could only nod and lay down beside him. In place of a blanket, Adam chose to wrap his large golden wings around them and snuggled in closer to Lute. His arm was under her head and pulled her closer to him.

This was…a lot of physical contact. More than Lute could ever remember experiencing in her life. She couldn’t say she found herself complaining though. Adam was warm and large and Lute quickly found her eyes grow heavy. 

“Night Lute,” Adam breathed out, his breath growing slow and steady. 

“Good night, Adam.” She whispered, unsure if he heard because she heard soft snores coming from his mouth. She smiled to herself and snuggled in closer to his body.

[sio-writes]

Writing Commissions: OPEN

Hello everyone! I could really use some help this month (I was out sick from work and my paycheck took a major hit) so Writing Commissions are open!

I’m primarily a romance author, specifically monster-human romances. I’ve been an active writer for about three years now, with two running serials you can read here and here, as well as several oneshots, a few of which I’ll link below:

Hero/Villain (1k words)

Reader/shadow creature (3.6k words)

NSFW - Human/Merfolk (2k words)

Best Shot - Human/Alien (6k words)

My work is primarily focused on OC’s, but I’m also happy to try my hand at fanfic for any fandom! It focuses heavily on character interactions that are usually in the modern world or a typical dnd fantasy setting. I’m very practiced at writing dialogue, and I love to explore kink through both SFW and NSFW stories (not sure what SFW kink entails? Commission me and find out! Lol)

Commission Tiers are as follows:

Tier 1: $10 (Delivery: 1 week after payment)

1k words max

NSFW +$5

Bullet points/headcanons

Tier 2: $20 (Delivery: 10 Days)

Between 1.5-2k words

NSFW +$6

Tier 3: $30 (Delivery: 2 Weeks)

Between 2.5-3k words

NSFW +$7

I will NOT write:

Extended scenes of physical violence/torture

Gross-out/splattergore

NSFW of underage characters

Beastiality

I require full payment after approval through venmo or cashapp, but review is available for each tier before final delivery, and I’m happy to (reasonably) talk through things as I’m working them.

If unable to contribute, I’d love to get the word out, so reblogs are love! Thank you for hearing my pitch <3

[j-l-kepler]

Baldur's Gate 3 Tav Ask List

1, 19, 23, 52, 89, 90, 91, 104 xx

(@bladesandbhaalspawn)

OHOHOHOHO THANK YOU FOR THE ASK PROMPTS

I wasn’t sure which of my Tavs was being asked for, so I’m using Briar Lockren, my half-drow Gloomstalker Ranger since I haven’t posted much about her while the Twins have quite a few deets about them! Plus, these questions felt like they applied to her best (and you may get some deets on her Dark Urge companion as well…)

[ANSWERS BELOW THE CUT]

1. What is their backstory and why did you choose it?

Some OOC background about Briar, I didn't originally make her as a Tav. I made her months ago as a fake Companion Quest called The Weary Ranger. I made a full Companion Guide with fake screenshots as a creative exercise and got very attached to her. This is one of those screenshots:

Like with all of the REAL Companions, I based her backstory on exploring the theme of abuse. The other companions focus on different aspects of parental abuse, abuse of power structures, sexual exploitation, systemic exploitation, etc., so I decided to focus on abuse in romantic relationships and dealing with an abusive ex.

[CW for abusive partners, implied coercion and sexual abuse, violence, etc. - I'll also be brief with her backstory and try to be specific when necessary]

Briar was raised in Luskan by her single father in the Cult of Cyric. Her dad was a full drow while her mother was 3/4 drow. Basically, Briar's mom had an affair with a half wood elf and left Briar in her husband's care before eloping, so Briar's dad was never really keen on actually taking care of her. His hands-off approach mixed with the prejudice against her in the Cult made it tough for her to accept their teachings.

Her closest friend was a boy her age named Ronan Amberclaw (I think I called him "Rowan" elsewhere, my bad lol). He was the underachieving son of the sect's leader, so the pressure was ON. Ronan and Briar were basically inseparable growing up.

Skip ahead a few years to when they're in their late teens - Briar's basically left the cult while Ronan's decided to stay. They've been friends forever so Briar doesn't hold the cult thing against him (the start of her blinders). They enter a rose-tinted romantic relationship. Briar (a rogue at this point) is persuaded to help Ronan's activities because they're fighting Banite uprisings. Briar's able to justify her involvement because, to her, it's the lesser of two evils.

But as time goes on, Ronan begins to lie about his activities more and more, and becomes more and more possessive. He gaslights, belittles, coerces and controls her, and does so in ways she can justify to himself. She continues to enable his activities, turning her blinders on full.

This goes on for years, until one night Ronan does what he's basically been primed to do his entire life: murder his father and take over the cult. This gets him recognized by Cyric, and he becomes his Chosen. Briar can't exactly excuse that - nice, decent people don't get recognized by Cyric, that just doesn't happen. Ronan, in the blink of an eye, drops his pretenses and makes it very difficult for Briar to look past his intention. She bolts, but not before receiving a brand of Cyric on her arm. Ronan's cursed her.

What does this curse entail? Metaphysical levels of horrible luck, the kinds of bad luck that can leave a happy village smoldering. Ronan visits her in nightmares, wraiths haunt the edges of her vision, and life SUCKS. Making connections means people die. Settling down means people die. Briar's options are go back to Ronan, or wander around until she dies.

Ever the optimist despite everything, she takes up the mantle of a Ranger, inspired by stories of similar souls who have ovecome impossible odds (such as Drizzt). She vows to hunts the beasts she attracts. In her mind, she's being selfish since she doesn't want to return to Ronan, so she vows to be strong enough to make up for the harm she causes.

Three years later, while wandering around Cloakwood, she gets picked up by the Nautiloid and spat out about a tenday away from Baldur's Gate. The tadpole in her head cuts off the effects of Ronan's curse and his ability to spy in on her.

Mielekki's race that was long.

19. What's your Tav's personality like at the start of the game? Does it change as the game goes on?

At the start of the game, she's fresh off the heels of 3 years of nightmare-fueled insomnia, so she's pretty lethargic and spacey. She's so used to a life out of her control by this point that she's quite passive, but also emotional and observant. She carries herself with a quiet sensitivity, and is deceptively capable when she's actually lucid. Underneath it all is a deep self-hatred and a desire to be stronger. She's constantly ensuring she pays for her past passivity, believing her lot in life isn't the result of a vindictive asshole but rather some kind of divine judgment. It's easier than actually pinning blame on the person who's been hurting her all this time.

Though her moral values don't change much, her personality and outlook on life become a lot more outwardly optimistic quite quickly. She becomes louder and easy to fluster, she's receptive to conversation and far more courageous and outspoken (I don't have any specific art of that lol)

She's already a moral guide for the Dark Urge (after all, he's the main character of the save Briar's in), but she's much more ready for it. As she encourages him to fight his Urges and live for himself, she internalizes the lessons she teaches and has started learning to advocate for herself too.

Basically, she's learning the answer to "do all my friends secretly hate me or do I just need to go to bed" is "you just need to go to bed". Quality of life really does improve when you can get 8 hours of sleep instead of having to run on 2 hours a week because your evil ex boyfriend is haunting your dreams with evil God magic.

23. What's their opinion of Emerald Grove? Do they help the tieflings or side with the druids?

Aha see this is one of the questions I was like "oh this is MEANT for Briar".

Siding against the tieflings was never an option for Briar. She knows what it's like to have no place to turn to, and she would give anything for safety and comfort. However, Briar's also quite familiar with Druidic circles thanks to her time spent in Cloakwood. Hell, at that point in the playthrough, she was a Ranger-Druid multiclass of Mielikki (I changed that once I recruited the hireling Dyven since he's a cleric so I didn't need an extra healer anymore). She's run into nicer circles AND the Shadow Druids, so Kagha's dogma struck her as odd for a druid of Silvanus. Something didn't smell right. She and Durge investigated further and were able to liberate Kagha from the Shadow Druids AND stop the Rite of Thorns!

52. What does your Tav think of Dame Aylin?

Dame Aylin is everything Briar wants to be, and everything she is. Briar adores Dame Aylin for her strength and resilience. She wants to have her fury and is inspired to reflect on her own situation. It's thanks to that that Briar is able to start allowing herself to be angry about what Ronan's done to her.

But on the other hand, Briar sees the exhaustion too. Just like Aylin, she's tired of having to fight against those who would see her victimized. She wants rest, peace, tranquility.

She wishes to be as strong as Aylin, and she wishes for the day neither of them have to be.

ACT 3 SPECULATION TIME

So this playthrough's only reached Act 3 recently, so the rest is speculation or how I think the playthrough ought to go based on what I know and how the characters have worked out thus far! OBVIOUSLY, SPOILERS FOR ACT 3 AHEAD

89. Does your Tav side with the Emperor or do they free Orpheus? Do they become Illithid to use the Nether Stones or does one of their companions do it? Do they give the Nether Stones to the Emperor/Orpheus?

The team already doesn't really trust Emps. Seeing as their whole arcs are about defying the odds and breaking free of their shackles, Durge, Briar & Dyven aren't exactly keen on Emps' strategy involing keeping Orpheus sedated and under his control to be exploited. How convenient that freeing Orpheus just... isn't an option. Hm. Interesting.

Since this is a no-Companion run (that is, the main 6), there won't be any companions to turn Illithid. I can't see Durge letting Briar throw away her future to become illithid, and I can't see Briar letting Durge do the same so.... sorry, Orpheus.

As for the Nether Stones, that's a bit of a blindspot for me. I can't imagine they'd give them to the Emperor if Emps isn't keen on cooperation.

90. Do they betray the Emperor/Orpheus/their companions for the Absolute?

ABSOLUTE-LY NOT. That's not even a question for her. Any ideations she has on the idea are on the same level as "What if I murdered my terrible boss" - she's not seriously entertaining the temptation. That kind of power just isn't worth it to her. Not after she's seen what power does to decent people (note: I don't think Ronan was ever really a decent person, but her perspective is a bit different from mine in this regard).

101. Did your Tav recruit Minsc? What's their opinion of him?

I wanna circle back to #91 in just a sec.

The Weary Ranger is a HUGE fan of the Beloved Ranger. Though she's more obviously inspired by stories of Drizzt, Minsc's exploits have always enchanted her. Actually meeting him is a dream come true. His blunt, optimistic and straightforward approach to every situation is exactly the kind of influence she needs. After all, her other mentors up until then have been a bunch of morally-conflicted dadfailure-coded sad sacks (and Halsin), so having someone who can cut through the bullshit and do good for the sake of it is refreshing!

91. Does your Tav get a happily ever after?

I think she will. Considering the relationship between Cyric and a certain skeletal freak at camp, I can absolutely see her curse becoming a non-issue after the story proper.

I think she and Durge will go their separate ways on good terms, and I think she'll follow Halsin. She'll settle into a home for the first time in forever with someone who she loves and is loved by.

I don't know if she'll stay there or if she'll get up and explore the Sword Coast on her own terms someday. She's not particularly maternal, nor do I know if she ever will be. But she's young with a whole life ahead of her to decide what she wants - and the room to do so on her own terms.

The scars of her past won't go away. Her brand will be gone, but the twisting remnants of her curse mark will stay tattooed to her skin. Her nightmares will be mundane and they might never go away. She will grieve the boy she fell in love with and think about him every time she stares up at the same stars they used to give stupid names to as kids. Someday, she’ll let him go, and every day until and after that will be a struggle.

But I assure you: she will be happy.

ANYWAY Thank You For These Awesome Ask Prompts!!

I had lotsa fun with this~ Briar is a character who is very near-and-dear to my heart. Not only is she a remake of my first D&D character, she was extremely cathartic to write while dealing with a pretty severe low point in my life.

ALSO SORRY IF THIS WAS WAY TOO LONG AND ALSO NOT THE CHARACTER YOU WANTED TO LEARN ABOUT LMAO

[prettyboykatsuki]

afflictions | u. ochako

♡ tags ; gn!reader, fluff, office relations, mentions of drinking, best friend bakugou (to ochako), from halloween that i just finished lol

♡ wc ; 1.3k

♡ a/n ; this is selfship content ngl. but its okay. ochako i want u sooo bad

♡ synopsis ; ochako has been avoiding her office crush post a halloween fiasco and it's starting to weigh on her conscience.

"You're way over thinking this, Uravity."

Bakugou casts Ochako a glance as she sighs over her cup of tea. He might be right, but for the minute it doesn't mean anything. She frowns, burying her face in her hands.

For the first time since highschool, Ochako Uraraka is head-over-heels pining. There's good news and bad news.

The good news is that the person she likes has a decently high chance of liking her back if the universe isn't just playing her like a fiddle. The bad news is that they work together, not even as Hero's. Ochako's in love with someone from the research department in the agency, a co-worker.

She can feel Bakugou's eyes boring lasers into her head but she can't help it. This whole situation has blown out of proportion and what was once a thirsty passing office crush is a full-blown romantic entanglement and Ochako is entirely too interested in seeing it through. That's why she can't keep her eyes off you, leaned on the side of a cubical, laughing at some joke that Kirishima is relaying to you.

She leans her palm against her cheek before dropping her head against the table.

"Bakugouuu," She whines, wanting to bury herself away "What do I do?"

"Stop being a little bitch and talk to them." He offers, without remorse. Ochako shoots him a glare.

"It's not that easy."

"Oh my god, Cheeks—yes, it fucking is. Are you an idiot? They make fucking heart eyes at you every time you talk to them. It's disgusting."

Ochako giggles.

"Wait, really?"

"Like I said, disgusting. Why the fuck would I lie to you? I'm not Denki, I don't give a fuck. I'm just not blind."

Ochako sighs. That's true.

It wasn't always this.. complicated. Maybe that's the word. At first, Ochako was just interested in your appearance. You looked more put-together than the rest of the people in your team and you had a sort of easy-goingness that she was naturally drawn to. She likes looking at you, soft features but sharp and bright eyes.

The first time you two spoke was out of necessity. You were gathering information on the effects of exposure to violence over time within a bunch of heroes and needed permission from a bunch of different people. You chose Ochako because of her unique position as a rescue hero.

And at first, your little meetings were all work related. Surveys and scans and whatever important stuff the job entailed. Ochako's fluttery feelings started surfacing half-way through then, when your jokes became more relaxed. Your demeanor changed. You were starting to be comfortable with her and she liked that.

She's always thought this but she's a little drawn to people who were a little mild. The attractive, smooth way you spoke stopped being a passing thought. Gentle, intelligent, not too familiar but open-minded.

The final nail in the coffin was at Sero's Halloween party where you'd shown up in a lazy werewolf costume with shitty clip-in ears and a leash around your neck - fake fangs getting in the way of your cup. Ochako went as red-riding hood, a coincidence. Maybe it was the alcohol or the comfortable environment.

She doesn't know. She does know that with a few shots in her, she was dragging you around by the collar of your shirt calling you her big bad wolf and you followed her every whim. Let her sit in your lap and even took her home when she got drunk - with a text the next morning reading "hope you slept well, red."

Ever since then, Ochako's been.. kind of avoiding you. She doesn't want to. She's just... too embarrassed to look you in the face. Given her drunkeness, she doesn't remember everything. How you reacted to her, mostly. What if you weren't into her?

It's assuring to hear Bakugou so confident about it but it doesn't ease her nerves all the way.

"You know that new intern that came in last week?"

Ochako hums absent-mindedly.

"She confessed to your little lovebird yesterday." Bakugou says with a sigh. Ochako nods at first before freezing, hand slamming on the counter.

"Wait are you serious?"

"Don't miss your chance, Cheeks." Bakugou says with a sigh.

She takes a minute to gear herself up before stepping out of the kitchen into the office. She catches your eye first, waving and you immediately seem surprised before relaxing into a smile.

Kirishima whispers something to you, seemingly, before you punch his arm and wave him goodbye. Once he leaves, Ochako walks over to you - stopping just in front of you. You give her a grin.

"Thought you ran away from me, Red."

Ocahko feels her stomach flutter with familiar nerves. She resents how good you are at making her flustered.

"I didn't run anywhere." She counters. You chuckle, leaning your head against the wall.

"Good to know. Thought for sure you were leaving me out to dry."

"I wasn't though," She whines, a little taken by your smile "I was just... y'know."

"Do I know?"

"Ugh, seriously. I was just embarrassed, okay? I wasn't gonna avoid you forever." She mumbles, arms crossed over her chest.

Your expression softens a little just for her, and if Ochako didn't see it with her own two eyes - she wouldn't be able to believe it. You smile a little more.

"Yeah? I'm relieved. Thought maybe I should've been a little more strict with you. Assumed I made you uncomfortable."

"Oh, god - not at all, I just couldn't... remember every single thing. I thought maybe you were mad."

"As if I'd ever be mad at you? C'mon now." And you're there again, charming the wits of off her "I had a good time. It was fun being bossed around by you. Maybe I should've applied for sidekick after all."

She covers her face in embarassment.

"You're the worst."

"Big bad wolves usually are."

"Oh my god, shut up. You're so awful!"

You put your hands up in self-defense and she's in a fit of giggles. Heart fluttering so hard she feels like a teenage girl again. She musters up some more courage and looks at you.

"I'm glad I didn't ruin your night."

"I'm glad I didn't ruin yours," You reply back, leaning in a little "Missed seein' your pretty smile."

"Jeez. No wonder all of interns are falling for you."

"Now where'd you hear that from?"

She scoffs a little, playful but sarcastic.

"I've got eyes everywhere, obviously. Do you talk to everyone like that or something? Those poor, naive girls. They don't even know what they're signing up for."

You huff some air through your nose, eyes lowered.

"And what would that be?"

"A wolf in sheeps clothing."

You laugh at her little joke.

"Have some faith me in, will you? I already turned her down."

"Really?"

She makes an attempt at masking her excitement but it's not with much effort. You nod, hands in your pockets.

"Yeah. Told her there was someone else I was interested in."

Ochako feels her heart pound.

"There is?"

"Sure is. Except, she's techincally my boss so I don't really know how I should go about telling her. Tough luck."

Holy shit. You mean her. You give her a coy smile, reaching a hand out to pat her head before you leave.

"I'll see you at lunch, Red."

"Y-yeah. See you,"

You crack one more smile before turning the other way, giving her a final wave before mozying off in the other direction. When she's sure your out of earshot, her knees nearly give in from what was basically a confession.

She turns her head back to the breakroom before running towards, stumbling back in to Bakugou over a cup of coffee. He gives her a bored stare.

"Holy SHIT,"

"Told you so,"

[cdroloisms]

is there any particular reason why there's this throughline of j!dream being considered/labeled a whore? like, with the exception of faith (thank god lol) haven't all the dreams in the mayfair birdhouse box foursquare extravaganza been sexually available to some version of sam at some point? did j!dream sleep with quackity prior to mayfair or smth?? is it because j!dream is available to multiple sams at the same time? is it just cuz he wears revealing clothes??

nodders nodders -- the explanation for this really derives itself from as far back as Four Square, where the jmah timeline and canon timeline were first smushed together and eeeeeeveryone had comments on j!duo being Weird As Fuck. When j!Dream and c!Dream first meet, they don't exactly ... get along, and are traumatized and trying to prove that they're not traumatized because the other one is More Traumatized, and mad as fuck at this twisted reflection of how far they've fallen and who they could be, and are generally really really mean about it.

(june 2022 ... wowza)

it's important to note that neither c!awesamdream nor j!awesamdream actually had prison sex (as opposed to p!awesamdream, fly high 💀) but obviously it was the sword hanging over all of their necks the Whole Time. what they see reflected on each other's faces isn't something that the dreams like, like, at all, and so they spend a lot of time attacking each other where they hope it'll hurt in a twisted manner of proving to themselves that they're the less broken one. for c!Dream, of course, the only leverage to use against j!Dream is j!Sam, because you know--just me and him. Sam had wholly made himself j!Dream's world for a year, and c!Dream is terrified of what the prison Like That would've entailed and telling himself that the idea of Sam's torture machine and conditioning and breaking him into that isn't something that scares the shit out of him, and so he makes repeated, incessant jabs about j!awesamdream to prove that it's not something that matters to him, it's not something he's scared of (is he convincing anyone? Not really.)

this ... continues to be a throughline throughout four square, especially when j!Sam is actually there and j!duo are like, interacting, because to everyone else they are Weird As Fuck (<- have been isolated in their little enclosure from the outside world for a year. and like ... marinating. fermenting even) and a lot of the Weirdness all funnels into jabs about them /sx, because it's the elephant in the room that no one wants to address and yet the very obvious conclusion when it comes to the intimacy and the Rituals and the forgetting-that-everyone-else-is-standing-there-watching-them that just keeps happening.

again, it's not really about the awesamdream /sx -- the awesamdream /sx hasn't even happened yet! but it's just one crude way of taking All Of JMAH and condensing it into one humiliating thing and using it against him -- c!Dream isn't scared at the idea of Sam being THIS invested in owning him and conditioning him and breaking him into this twisted thing that hangs onto his every word like he needs it to breathe, he's just mad because the All Of That is just this other stupider version of himself being a slut.

and when it comes to the Quackitys, in Four Square ... threats relating to sexual violence were already a thing for both versions of Quackity in the prison, and it certainly doesn't go away in Four Square itself. the threats are made to both Dreams, of course, but Sam and Dream's deal for our duo with JMAH is again, easy material--especially considering j!Quackity has a hell of a bone to pick with j!Sam, still. When it comes to j!Dream, though, he's been told for like, a year and counting that he doesn't really know torture, and then got the additional context of Quackity's visits in the original timeline, and then c!Dream is dealing with his own trauma by trying to minimize j!Dream's timeline ... and unfortunately for him, the way that Four Square works means that when the Quackitys do get their little turn in the cell, it's really. Really bad. All of the yknow retraumatizing circumstances and torture and psychological strain pushes both Dreams to the breaking point, which heightens the dependence built up so heavily in JMAH that is absolutely still present in canon but not quite to the same degree ... and then Mayfair happens, and j!duo are alone.

This is where j!awesamdream actually starts happening, and it happens Quite A Lot. c!Dream is under the impression for a long time that j!awesamdream happened in the prison, no matter how much j!Dream denies it, because 1) well obviously he'd lie 2) even if he isn't lying, who's to say he'd remember and 3) it's becoming increasingly, inarguably clear that it's Something Sam Wants, and why should he think that Sam would deny himself this, of all things. j!Dream is ... well, he's kind of convinced he did have the prison on easy mode, now, and j!Sam is suprisingly lenient (in their cottage in the middle of nowhere that he's going to be trapped in forever) and there's no one else. Nothing else but Sam, nothing more than to lose himself in this. j!Dream really tries to rely on the sexual relationship as a means of Making His Life Bearable, and as Mayfair escalates this certainly means a lot of sex and not a whole lot of boundaries. things get ... pretty crazy.

By the time c!Dream arrives, this has been the dynamic for a year. The last time he saw j!Dream his conclusion was j!awesamdream /NEG /EVILS /BRAINWASHING, and obviously his first impression of the Mayfair cottage doesn't improve that, like, at all. the j!Dream and c!Dream camaraderie is very much slowburn and involves quite a lot of mutual insulting, and now the sexual angle re: j!duo has a lot more solid of a basis ... it was a little bit of a self fulfilling prophecy, with the emphasis on j!awesamdream in four square playing into why it becomes Such a thing in Mayfair so quickly, but from a certain perspective it was still inevitable -- no one was wrong when they picked it up as something j!sam wants.

it's another year and a half or so after c!Dream arrives before he actually does anything sexual with Sam, more than long enough for him and j!Dream to establish sort of niches in the house as "one who likes sex and has tried to define everything by sex and fix his whole life through making Sam want him enough to be in less pain" and "guy who was utterly terrified of what j!awesamdream could entail after watching another version of himself seemingly get completely brainwashed by it and does everything he can to rebel against Sam at every possible opportunity." The self-chosen label of sexually promiscuous for j!Dream--which informs his every action, and corresponds to the Sams adopting the same worldview (not to mention how Dreams being "worldly" is a Whole thing to cope with the existence of awesamdream anyway)--himself-as-sexual-object as something he chooses to survive and something used against him For Cope and something leveled against him to call him weak/pathetic/pointless otherwise, definitely grows and starts to swallow up a lot of how he conceptualizes his own identity as he adapts to the years of birdhouse and surviving it. Being a slut is autonomy ... surely.

As far as the actual residents of the birdhouse go, though, it's like ... the Sams don't force the title of slut onto him, but they do kind of go "oh j!Dream is sexually motivated" or whatever when he tries to make Literally Everything about sex/being sexually motivated, because obviously theyre not going to conclude that this is a manner of fawning in order to survive an intolerable situation. c!Dream doesn't really think j!Dream is a slut but is also really scared and says shit out of anger and fear and blaming this other him or whatever feels less awful than coming to grips with the full extent of their situation. And j!Dream thinks he's a whore because, lol, look at the dictionary, it's fine, sex is fun, he likes it. #notcopium. so to answer your question, the specific history of the sexual relationships here and the frequency of how much it's happening and the specific attitudes had by each dream towards the situation all informs why j!Dream is singled out and singles himself out as Being The Sexual Object here, which is largely intentional by him (while being kind of unaware of how it's affecting how he views himself and fucking up his self perception, like, a lot, especially with how it mixes in with the trauma of the whole situation) and reactive on the Sams'. And the Sams' have just as much if not more reason to be considered the sexually promiscuous ones by the exact same standards but self awareness, thy name is NOT sam.

[thedarkeyedcaptain]

yo okay real talk for a sec

I started oathbringer (2% already wahoo) and got viscerally reminded why I stopped with this book specifically (and probably also why I was convinced I got much farther than I actually did lol)

idk if y'all knew this but i'm half European half Latina. and while I'm really proud of my south american heritage and love my country, I also have a lot of mixed feelings towards it (I mean. my other half (which is also where I live) is only so well off because of the absolutely inhumane exploitation of the global south, which includes latin america. so, yeah. lots of generational guilt and stuff.) Thus colonization and everything that comes with it are themes that are very close to my heart (especially with how people in western Europe tend to speak about it and the countries themselves).

And, well. I'm sure y'all are aware what oathbringer is all about. like, I'm glad that Sanderson went there and showed how much destruction and horror and violence often "hides" beneath euphemisms like "unification", but at the same time it's also a bit hard to listen to?

It is so aggravating how Dalinar feels kind of bad for what he did in the past, sure, but still refuses to question the bigger goal of unification. It is so aggravating how convinced Dalinar is that he is right, and how everyone else agrees. It is so aggravating how everyone keeps acting as if the other countries are unreasonable for not wanting to listen to the black thorn - FOR NOT WANTING TO WILLINGLY UNDERGO "UNIFICATION" (need I remind anyone what that entailed the last time? noble reasoning and all?). It's so so aggravating how all the characters seem so willing to forget the past. And it's honestly kind of hurtful too (in multiple levels)

(doesn't help that I have 14 days to listen to 55 hours, so I can't really take a lot of breaks)

that is all to say: I will be very critical of everyone in this following book.

I will especially keep pointing out kaladin's hypocrisy, considering he embodies the noble reluctant hero type. I will probably be (a lot?) more uncharitable towards the characters in comparison to the last two books.

so. yeah. just wanted to warn y'all I guess. especially if you're a big dalinar, kaladin and/or sylphrena fan (if my memory serves me right)

if it makes y'all feel better just know I will be dying inside every time I have to wax poetry about dalinar's honor while in character 👍