#I've come such a long way from outright hating them to now this

[wnderkoo]

boy's a liar

summary: you've been at odds with the crown prince ever since you were children, but feelings change and the light you see him in changes too. how long can you keep up this pretense of hatred? word count: 3.7k warnings: cherry!koo bc that deserves a warning, kind of some emotional constipation?, explicit smut– b**bie fondling, or*l f receiving, f-ngering, missionary, hitting it from the back, unprotected s*x (you better not), dw theres aftercare :)

what's the point of crying? it was never even love did you ever want me? was i ever good enough?

You hate how good he looks right now, simply leaning against the wall, an aloof smile on his pretty face as he holds court with his infuriating charm and ever bright personality. The dukes and duchesses eat up his every admission and hang onto every word of his sentences, making you roll your eyes as you watch them from across the room.

He holds a fluke of champagne in his hand, half full despite your knowing of his dislike of the liquor.

As if feeling your gaze on him, his eyes lift and wander curiously across the room before meeting yours. Expecting you to back down and look away, a look of pleasant surprise comes across his face when you hold his stare.

Your heart skips under his watchful gaze, his eyes caressing your skin from the tips of your fingers to your covered shoulders and leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

His eyes flick back up to yours, and you realise that not once throughout his assessment of you did he pause his conversation with his company. His mouth continues to move and the men and women crowded around him take no notice that his attention is elsewhere- on you.

A manicured hand slides up his chest, pretentious and outright trying to state its claim on him.

You'd seen her pin straight blonde hair before, at balls and other social events, but she never deserved more than a polite smile from you- she was just another social climber wrapped in faux elegance.

His face betrays no emotion, but his eyes hold yours from across the room as if gauging your reaction. He watches you lazily with an air of arrogance, and your hands buzz with the desire to slap him across his irritating face.

As if you could care less who he had on his arm.

You regard each other, waiting to see who will look away first.

It won't be you.

His mouth tugs up in a smile, as if sensing the fire burning within you, which burns infinitely hotter seeing his amused face.

Damn him.

"This looks like the most intense staring contest I've ever seen."

Dark eyes move away first, his attention fixing back on his company and you smile as you turn to the deep voice.

"Namjoon," you nod up at the tall duke.

His dimple peeks out as he smiles down at you, making a comment about how comfortable you look perched on the couch before joining you.

"So what's with you and the prince? I can feel the sexual tension rolling off of you."

Ever the playful instigator, you roll your eyes at his blatant need to gossip.

You've known Namjoon since you were both children, before you had to wear the burden of responsibility that came with your nobilities. When you could play around in the courtyard or sneak into the kitchen and steal from the cookie jar.

Growing up together, you knew you could always depend on him to run away with you from the over-the-top galas or the boring dinners.

While the socialites interacted amongst themselves, the two of you would be in the corner of the room judging anyone and everyone.

There was a small circle of people you considered acquaintances, and an even smaller circle of people you could call friends.

But you'd take a handful of genuine people over dozens of superficial friendships anyway.

"Nothing's up with us, you know how much I hate him."

Namjoon regards you with a skeptical look that you ignore, waving down one of the catering staff and plucking an hors d'oeuvres off the tray.

"I'm not buying it," he hums, taking one for himself.

"I see the way you've been looking at each other lately- it definitely doesn't look like hate."

You narrow your eyes at him, despite wondering yourself how much truth his words carry.

Perhaps it was because he knew you so well, knew of the mutual dislike you and the prince held for each other ever since you were children.

In all honesty, you're not sure where exactly your indifference came from but for as long as you can remember, the crown prince has always been the one you find yourself bantering with.

Although you don't carry any real enmity towards him, you found it easier to annoy each other with jabs and jests than to not.

He was the crown prince, and while you held a title of nobility yourself, he was always just one level above you, he always would be.

Perhaps it was the fact that he knew how important he was, or at least carried himself that way. He was expected to act a certain way, and while he did most of the time, he also liked to rebel in the smallest of ways, pushing boundaries until someone was bound to break.

But he was a royal, very few people could touch him, and he knew that. He knew he was untouchable.

He liked to play games, finding the most amusement in playing them with you. So casually cruel in the name of being honest, his favourite pastime was riling you up until you'd snap at him, enjoying your fire when it was directed at him.

As children, it was all fairly innocent- he'd pull on your braids and you'd steal his extra piece of panna cotta when he wasn't looking. As you got older, more avenues opened up for you to mess with each other.

Every courtier or suitor would be driven away by the prince's incessant meddling, spewing lies about how you grew horns and turned into a beast at night or that your farts smelled like mouldy bread. While no one actually believed him, you never heard back from them after the night.

It's almost comical how palace staff are warned when the two of you are under the same roof, made to be weary of the ultimate prank war that you've been in your whole lives.

Endless teasing and outright arrogance made his face ever so punchable.

While you ran in the same tight-knit circle and saw each other more often than not, you weren't as close as you were with the others.

Now that you were older, more responsibility weighed you down, and you were both expected to play your parts.

The ever obedient daughter, you played yours while Jungkook got to mess around and spew nonsense about his duties that everyone ate up because they weren't exactly listening, too busy fawning over his charming looks and playboy personality.

It didn't help that he was actually good looking.

Thinking back to Namjoon's words, you wonder how that could ever be true. If anything, after the events that had perspired a few weeks ago, he should only be able to see the absolute bitterness in your eyes when you see the crown prince.

"Trust me, Joon, we're definitely not in love."

The buzz of the ballroom was finally beginning to dwindle, dukes and marquesses alike starting to call it a night, bidding their goodbyes to the royal family before making their way out.

You'd spent most of the night with Namjoon, snickering as you watched people bend over backwards trying to force some semblance of elegance.

The corridors were empty now, save for the staff passing through packing up the event.

After using the washroom, you wander down the hallways, the lighting dim enough to confuse your tired and faintly tipsy brain.

Turning one of the corners, you stop short upon seeing a certain head of dark hair leaning against the opposite wall.

"Your highness," you bow, miscalculating the action and fumbling slightly before you right yourself, giggling quietly to yourself.

Was it your imagination or did the prince's arms flinch forward as if ready to catch you?

"So formal," the prince murmurs, standing upright and stalking forwards to where you were stood.

He offers his arm and for some reason you hesitate, wondering whether touching him was a particularly good idea. But then he gazes down at you with those soft eyes, no malice hidden behind them, and you find yourself taking his arm anyway.

"I'll escort you to your room."

"How noble of you."

"You know me, always saving pretty damsels and slaying dragons."

You snicker. He laughs.

The endless walk through the corridors is silent, neither of you having anything of real importance to say to each other.

The question of why the prince had been in the corridor in the first place lingers in your mind, but you've come to know better than to expect him to answer your questions.

When you reach the landing of the third floor, the prince's steps slow until you've reached just outside your door.

You open it without a word, strolling inside, ready to be done with the night and sleep all the way through to brunch.

The prince lingers in the doorway and you see him thinking over something in his head through the reflection of your vanity mirror.

"What is it Jungkook?"

The use of his name so casually has him turning his head up at you, a grin forming on his face.

"Did you enjoy yourself tonight?" he asks, leaning against the doorframe.

His eyes follow you as you toe off your shoes, throwing them rather carelessly to the foot of your dresser. Sitting down at your vanity, you grab a wipe, swiping at your eyes to remove your makeup as you contemplate your answer.

"You know how I feel about those social events," you say.

He did.

On the off chance you felt like getting along, the two of you would sneak away in the middle of galas or dinners, running off to the gardens under the cover of darkness and hiding where no one could find you.

Just for a few hours, you could leave behind all the ass kissing and artificiality and pretend that you weren't who you were.

You'd skip rocks across the pond, mock nobility, or listen to Jungkook and his endless knowledge about constellations and argue over where they were in the sky.

Stolen moments like those- you'd never tell him- but you saved them for the bad days.

Movement in the mirror has your eyes meeting his in the reflection, watching as he approaches from behind.

He reaches a tentative hand up to unclasp the necklace you had been fumbling with, his warm touch leaving tingles when his fingers brush against the skin of your neck.

"Thanks."

Was your voice always this breathy?

"What about yourself? That pretty blonde make it worth your while?"

You hate the unfamiliar feeling the thought of him spending time with another girl brings, but you'd sooner take it to the grave than acknowledge it.

"She can't seem to take the hint that I'm not interested," he shrugs, silently removing the pins from your hair.

"But you're always interested," you tease.

As the crown prince, he obviously couldn't sleep around. But the rules never said anything about casual flings where he could woo girls with his flirty words and kick them to the curb when he was bored.

Growing up, people rarely saw him for more than being their next ruler. Girls saw him as something they could conquer, dig their claws into and hang on his arm and pray they became relevant.

Sure he was arrogant and cocky, but people seemed to forget he was a human being.

While you wouldn't hesitate to push him in the pool or leave him locked out in the snow, a part of you felt for him. He had never found a meaningful connection with anyone, and even if he kept up the pre-tense of the heartbreaker prince there was a secret romantic hidden in his playboy persona.

"Feelings change."

Oddly cryptic and vague.

"Did you want something, Jungkook? I'm rather tired."

Coming to a stand, you reach behind your back for the strings of your dress. You had a lady in waiting who would have been helping you, but you'd all but threatened Marie to retire early for the night, knowing how hard she worked to making you look presentable earlier.

Jungkook's hands beat you to it, tugging lightly on the ribbon to free you.

"Just wanted to see you."

Again, oddly cryptic and vague.

As he unlaces your corset, you can't help the heavy breath that escapes you once your lungs aren't being constantly squeezed by the garment.

Your eyes clash in the mirror, not a word leaving either of you as the straps of your dress are pushed down your shoulders, the fabric pooling by your waist.

You're quite aware that your front is bared, your nipples hardening in the cool air. Your breath becomes laboured as you anticipate his next move. Though, his eyes never stray from yours, holding your gaze as the tension in the room builds.

"Jungkook-"

The word comes out in a breathy whimper before he tilts your head and crashes his mouth to yours. You feel the groan in his throat as he claims your mouth with his, your tongues clashing for dominance.

A large palm comes up and cups your breast, squeezing the flesh and drawing a moan from you. He twists a hardened bud between his thumb and finger before giving the same attention to the other.

In a blur, the rest of your dress is on the ground and Jungkook has you pinned on the bed as his mouth explores your neck.

He nips and kisses at your skin- sometimes you wonder if he leaves marks because he knows you'll have to cover them up.

"Should've known you only came here for this," you grit out just as he reaches your breasts. Taking a breast into his mouth, his wet and warm tongue circles around your hardened bud before sucking hard.

He comes away with a lewd pop, and the image of him with saliva glistening on his mouth makes you just that much more aroused.

"Didn't seem to be a problem last week when you were coming around my cock," he shoots back, moving down your body until he's kneeling between your spread thighs.

Despite his image of poise and virtue, his mouth could be equally as filthy.

"Tell me to stop and it stops."

You don't.

He smiles.

Leaning down, he places open mouth kisses against the inside of your thighs, always inching closer and never reaching exactly where you want him.

You slide your hands into his hair, palming the soft cherry coloured strands- another one of his acts of rebellion.

You open your mouth to protest, the words stolen out of your mouth by Jungkook finally dragging his tongue up your centre, the groan he lets out vibrating against you and making you shudder.

He eats you like a man starved, neither of you caring how sloppy it is, not when it feels so good and you taste so sweet. Hiking your thighs up over his shoulders, Jungkook devours you, showing no mercy as he slides two fingers into you with ease.

They stretch you out deliciously, and when he curls them just right he hits that spot that has you seeing stars.

The feeling of him pumping into you along with the way he abuses your swollen nub with his mouth brings you to an orgasm embarrassingly quick.

Waves of pleasure wash over you, eyes squeezing closed as Jungkook helps you ride out your orgasm.

The crown prince emerges from between your legs, wide grin on his mouth as your arousal coats his chin and all around his lips.

"You good?" he asks, kissing the inside of your knee before sitting up.

"Mhm."

He leans forward, capturing your mouth in his once more. You sit up, unbuttoning his dress shirt impatiently while he chuckles into the kiss at your eagerness.

The shirt falls away, revealing smooth skin upon smooth skin. The prince can't help but smirk against your lips at how you all but spill drool onto his stomach. His toned, chiseled stomach.

You push a hand against his chest and throw a leg around his waist to turn the prince until he's laying against your pillows and you're above him straddling his hips.

The sudden confidence has his face lighting up in surprise, a complaint nowhere to be found as he places his palms on your waist, his touch searing against your skin.

But oh so gentle.

With hooded eyes, the crown prince watches the way your head tips back and your lips part in a soft sigh when you roll your hips against him, definitely feeling the growing bulge beneath you.

He takes the opportunity to lean forward and take a breast in his mouth, his other hand snaking up to the back of your neck and holding you to him.

You don't know exactly how you found yourselves in this unlikely predicament. The first time it'd happened was the prince's birthday. You'd gotten so angry at him for crashing yet another date with one of your suitors earlier in the week, and his only response was to kiss you right then and there.

One thing led to another until you were both laying spent against the bed, chests heaving as you came to terms with what exactly had just happened.

You spent the week avoiding each other as much as you could, until you found yourself in bed with the prince again.

And so begun the sneaking around and the late night shenanigans. Though, where anyone else was concerned, you still couldn't stand each other.

You both knew it shouldn't have gone on for this long, but somehow you couldn't find it in yourselves to care.

Finding yourself on your back again, you look up at the crown prince as he kneels between your spread thighs. His pants are off now, lying somewhere forgotten with the rest of your clothes.

He stares down at you with hooded eyes mirroring that of your own before reaching into his boxers and pulling out his thick, hard length.

The sight of it alone has you whining, wanting it in you. You bite your lip when Jungkook when he rubs the swollen head against your folds, spreading his pre-cum and your own arousal around.

"We still good, pretty?"

You all but scream yes, nodding desperately.

Jungkook finally gives you what you want, positioning himself at your entrance and slowly pushing in. A hand on you hip rubs soothingly as he moves in inch by glorious inch. He hisses about how tight you are, eyes squeezing shut.

Despite the number of times he's taken you, you can never quite get used to just how big he is. The stretch borders on pleasure and pain, leaving you breathless as Jungkook bottoms out.

He waits patiently for you to get used to him, hands holding your waist and squeezing gently.

When you give him the go-ahead Jungkook starts to move, drawing his hips back just to push in again. The breathy moans that leave your mouth only spur him on as he thrusts into you.

It feels so good, he feels so good. The way he moves in you, just the right amount of rough and carefulness, makes him one of the most enjoyable partners you've had in- well ever.

By the time you're nearing your second orgasm of the night, Jungkook is nowhere near done with you.

Flipping you onto your stomach, he draws your hips up until you're on your knees, ass in the air, before Jungkook enters you again.

In this position, his thrusts hit deeper, reaching places no one else has reached and making you almost lightheaded.

You crash headfirst into Nirvana, body twitching as pleasure floods your senses. Your legs threaten to give out but Jungkook holds you up, continuing his to move behind you.

The overstimulation is just bearable, and when he slaps your ass you have to stop yourself from screaming. 

"Fuck baby, I'm close-"

The whimper in his voice makes you move your ass back on him, meeting his thrusts and grinding against him.

His hips stutter before he stills completely, spilling himself deep inside you with a guttural moan.

The two of you have always been safe when it comes to sex, despite never wearing condoms. You have measures in place to make sure you don't end up in the papers with the next royal scandal.

You whine when he pulls out, feeling empty without his presence. You collapse on the bed, sighing as you come down from the high.

You hear him walk to your bathroom and then you feel his warmth behind you again.

Despite all his cruelty, he cleans you up with a warm cloth, his movements gentle.

You thank him awkwardly, your words ending in a yawn that has him chuckling from somewhere in the room.

He flicks the light switch off, submerging the room in darkness before coming down to lay beside you in bed.

Turning your head, you peer up at him, the light from the moon hitting his face perfectly and making him look like your worst mistake personified.

You don't exchange a single word as you cuddle up to his chest, his arm snaking around you and holding you closer. You relish in his warmth, pressing your cheek against his bare skin, closing your eyes and listening to his breathing even out.

For some reason, he makes you feel safe.

In this afterglow, where all your swords and armour are left on the ground, and you only see each other as you are- you wish you could stay like this always.

You take in his presence, knowing that you'll wake up in the morning and he won't be beside you.

He never is.

But what's the point of crying? It was never even love.

You knew that.

unedited :) hope you liked it

#jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #bts fics #bts fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook crack #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook oneshot #bts oneshot #jungkook x you #bts jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fanfiction #bts fic #jungkook imagine #new jungkook fic #bts #jungkookfics #jeon jeongguk

[thenightfolknetwork]

Hello. I'm, um, not entirely sure how to talk about this. I hope it's okay if I misspeak. I'm a human, right, so I think that needs to be clear more than anything, but I've been very involved in the creature community for years now. I live by a great big lake and I always liked to walk down the shore late at night or early in the morning, you know, just to try and get out of my own head, and one night ages ago I accidentally tripped over someone's jacket and twisted my ankle. It was a gorgeous fur jacket, too, not like any kind of fur I'd seen in a jacket before, but just stunningly soft and thick as Hell.

Now, of course I didn't take it, that'd be awful, but also I had just hurt myself in kind of a nasty way and so it wasn't like I had anything else to do but sit by the shore next to the jacket and waited, and yeah, a few hours later one of the lake seals popped its head out of the water, looked at me for a good long while, and then...well, I mean, you know how the rest of the story goes, I'm sure.

Anyway, it's been a few years now and I've become really close to this family. I didn't really know anyone in my town before meeting them and I'm not on speaking terms with my own folks, so in a lot of ways these people have become my family, and it's an honor that they trust me to keep guard of their cloaks and such when they go out. But I've got this problem, right, and it's just...over the years it's felt less and less like I fit in with other humans. All my friends are nightfolk now, my family hates me even more because they're bigots--in this night and age, can you fucking believe it--and it's just like every night I get further and further away from the shore.

I'm just scared because...I don't *want* to stop drifting away. I've had dreams of joining them down there in the lake, practically every night for months on end. I've tried doing research into methods of joining the community but I don't want to become a vampire, I don't fancy any lunar-aligned nonsense, nothing has felt right except selkies, but I can't decide if I'm just self aware enough that I need a push from an outside viewer to try and accept something I already know full well...or if no, actually, that little voice in my stupid head that won't go away that keeps calling me a fraud, an invader, an appropriator--what if the reason it's not going away is because it's right and I really don't belong?

Just...please be honest with me. Am I a complete asshole for spending hours every day trying not to just outright beg my family--sorry, chosen family--to help me sew myself a cloak, or is there something to this?

First of all, reader, please rest assured. As long as you are speaking from a place of kindness and a willingness to learn, you don't need to worry about using all the correct terminology. I always try to listen generously when people come to me in need, and I encourage our followers to do the same.

Unfortunately I can well believe that bigots like your biological relatives still exist. I'm glad you've been able to extract yourself from their hateful society, and have found comfort, support and kinship among the nightfolk.

You say there is a little voice in your head calling you a fraud, casting doubt on the validity of your feelings. As much as you might want to push it away and stop your ears, I want you to listen to that voice, just for a little while. Pay attention to the language it uses and what ideas it seems to have about the world.

And then ask yourself: is this my voice? Does that sound like me? Or does this sound like a last, desperate, wriggling remnant of the people I've worked so hard to distance myself from?

Every one of us is raised with a narrative, a story about the world and our place in it, and how we should treat the people around us. We're told that story by our parents, by our teachers and schoolmates, by television and books and a million other sources. The story is so vast and so all-encompassing, it takes an enormous effort to be able to see any single part of it clearly.

Imagine, then, how hard we have to work to realise some of that story is untrue, or harmful, fed by hatred and fear. To start untangling ourselves from the rotting, strangling roots of the story we've known all our lives, and start planting something new and fresh and honest.

It sounds to me like this little voice is one of those lingering strands of the story you were raised with – one where liminality is nothing to admire or strive for, and where you cannot be trusted to know your own mind, and your own needs. It's time to tell yourself a better story.

You've found people who honour you with their trust and who make you feel supported and loved, as you deserve. You admire them, and want to be like them. None of this sounds “stupid” to me.

This is not a decision to be taken lightly. By all means, take your time, and talk your feelings through with your family. But I think you already know what story you want for yourself, reader – and for what it's worth, I think the world will be better for its telling.

#answered #the nightfolk network #monstrous agonies

[dootznbootz]

Odysseus was afraid the entire year on Aeaea in the Odyssey.

Content warnings: Rape, Sexual Coercion, Sexual assault, Sex Work, power dynamics, this will also be long as fuck as I talk too much. This is NOT a "Circe the Goddess Hate Post". I call her out but that's it. I tried to keep this neutral but still making a point (Let me know if I gotta put more)

Lots of lovely folks on here have written great essays on what Calypso did to Odysseus as it's soooo blatantly obvious there. It literally states how he cried every day and how he flinched from Calypso, very straightforward on how he was explicitly raped.

But I've noticed that a lot of people are always iffy about Circe's situation (understandably so, it's not so in your face.) She's usually always mentioned in the "Odysseus never cheated! He was raped!" posts but then the evidence is only ever given against Calypso, and then mentioning how you can't say no or disobey the orders of an immortal and how it was in exchange for freeing his men.

WHICH IS ALL CORRECT!!! But!!!

There ARE immortal/mortal couples who genuinely love each other. Dionysus and Ariadne, and Eros and Psyche are examples. Apollo and Hyacinthus. Psyche indeed becomes immortal eventually and in some versions, both Hyacinthus and Ariadne do too. But even while mortal themselves, their immortal lovers still remained respectful and loving towards them and definitely doted on them. There are definitely power dynamics at play here but there's some nuance.

Odysseus and Circe's relationship, however, is very different. We all know he slept with her at the very least once. And that was in exchange for his men being returned to humans. That was the only time it was explicitly stated. With Calypso, it tells you every night he was enchanted and slept beside her. It was the narrator speaking but Odysseus is the narrator now and it's his story. If you think he lied, this probably won't change your mind anyway.

But even if it was a one-time thing, (which isn't the only interpretation and I will have points that talk about others) then why did he stay a year? What was he doing?

I'm doing a deep dive into the year he spent on Aeaea based on evidence in Book 10 and then the beginning of Book 12. Step by step, and honestly I'm writing this for Tumblr, not as a thesis so I will be a bit more casual but still using sources. To me, it's very obvious that he was uncomfortable throughout the text simply based on the language that is used. But it's very subtle and not an outright statement of "He's been crying every day."

BTW, just so we're clear, this is not a "Circe is the root of all evil, etc." type of post.

This isn't meant to villainize her. She's an immortal being and in mythology that changes things. Everybody is morally gray. I genuinely think if we were to ask her feelings on it, she'd probably be like "Oh, yeah! Turned his men into pigs! Strange little man he was." I don't think she gave a flying fuck.

I just simply get pissed tf off when people think Odysseus was fine. It honestly disturbs me how often I'll go on other websites YouTube and see everyone call him a whore and a womanizer. It's sexism at its finest because 1.) "MaN AlwAyS wAnTs sEx" and 2.) women can't rape/coerce. THIS IS SIMPLY TO LOOK INTO HIS FEELINGS ABOUT IT.

This is also only for Homer's Odyssey, using different translations. If you want to discuss this, (I'd be happy to! Just be nice!) DON'T BRING UP ANY OTHER WORKS.

With all that out of the way, come yell with me 🤗

I've read multiple translations, as I know there's going to be bias depending on who's translating. And having done so, each one has basically the same situations described the same so that's nice for consistency. Also, there are some parts in the story that are vague and that we'll never have answers to.

Odysseus first simply sees the smoke from her chimney and then sends his men in, after drawing lots Eurylochus leads half of the men to check out the house. I mentioned here vaguely how the 2 immortals he sleeps with are both introduced while singing and weaving, which could be seen as an enchantment (which to me is most likely. They both possess magic and are goddesses). So I'm just gonna move past that. Just take a peek and come back or just know that enchantment was likely.

Next, I'll see people often joke on Tumblr about how

"Odysseus says that Polites is his best friend yet only mentions him once!"

I think Odysseus mentions his best friend, the one to jubilantly go in first, to show WHY he would go through with this. How much these comrades mean to him. That's his best friend, and there are approximately 20 others who are now pigs as well. Could you knowingly leave one of your best friends to live a life like that knowing you could've done something?

[...]Circe—and deep inside they heard her singing, lifting her spellbinding voice as she glided back and forth at her great immortal loom, her enchanting web a shimmering glory only goddesses can weave. Polites, captain of armies, took command, the closest, most devoted man I had: ‘Friends, there’s someone inside, plying a great loom, and how she sings—enthralling! The whole house is echoing to her song. Goddess or woman—let’s call out to her now!’ So he urged and the men called out and hailed her. She opened her gleaming doors at once and stepped forth, inviting them all in, and in they went, all innocence.

(Fagles, Book 10)

In the Odyssey, it's never mentioned why she turns people into animals. I think they were turned into pigs because, throughout the Iliad and Odyssey, Odysseus is often associated with boars. His men are associated with him, therefore: 🐖 Piggy. From what we know, the lads were just eating her food. With how much Xenia and hospitality are a large part of the story, they probably thought they were safe. They were GUESTS. This is especially welcome after the Cyclops and the Laestrygonians. And it literally says "All innocence". They were simply naive.

Then Eurylochus runs back, so terrified that he couldn't speak at first. He then begs Odysseus to just leave the men behind. Odysseus has shown that he does TRY to save his men when it is truly not reckless to do so.

But I shot back, ‘Eurylochus, stay right here, eating, drinking, safe by the black ship. I must be off. Necessity drives me on.’

(Fagles, Book 10)

Then the famous warning from Hermes. I've seen folks bring this up when talking about this. YES, he is literally commanded by Hermes to not refuse her if he wants his men back in basically every translation. It sounds like Circe was warned as well. When? We don't know, but it sounds like Hermes didn't pick "sides" here.

Strange that he was still like, "Sleep with each other" to both, because he could've been like, "Circe, there's this guy named Odysseus. When he comes to this island, change his men back." But who knows, maybe it was Circe's idea from the beginning and Hermes went along with it. Just food for thought.

Now here’s your plan of action, step by step. The moment Circe strikes with her long thin wand, you draw your sharp sword sheathed at your hip and rush her fast as if to run her through! She’ll cower in fear and coax you to her bed— but don’t refuse the goddess’ bed, not then, not if she’s to release your friends and treat you well yourself. But have her swear the binding oath of the blessed gods she’ll never plot some new intrigue to harm you, once you lie there naked— never unman you, strip away your courage!’

(Fagles, Book 10)

But that doesn't explain why he was there for a year afterward! Nor if he himself was okay with it, which is what I'm trying to delve into as he wasn't.

Also the knife thing? She's still immortal. It was meant to startle her. Her dad is Helios. Odysseus would've been toast, literally.

Also note this exchange wasn't a "Yippee! Hermes says I'm going to get laid!".

...just approaching the halls of Circe, my heart a heaving storm at every step, paused at her doors, the nymph with lovely braids— I stood and shouted to her there. She heard my voice, she opened the gleaming doors at once and stepped forth, inviting me in, and in I went, all anguish now …

(Fagles, Book 10)

Another translation by Ian Johnston, (they all say the same thing essentially but trying to make a point.)

I continued on to Circe’s home. As I moved on, my heart was turning over many gloomy thoughts. After I had walked up to the gateway                                                of fair-haired Circe’s house, I just stood there and gave a shout. The goddess heard my voice.                      She came out at once, opened her bright doors, and invited me inside. I entered, heart full of misgivings.

HE👏WAS👏SCARED! The tone is solemn and suspenseful. He was just told that without Hermes' help with the root, he wouldn't be able to survive and bring back his men. Circe was dangerous.

He made her swear not to harm him.

Straightaway she began to swear the oath that I required—never, she’d never do me harm—and when she’d finished, then, at last, I mounted Circe’s gorgeous bed …

(Fagles, Book 10)

Please note that she NEVER promised that to his men. His comrades did NOT have moli in their systems. He had no way of truly ensuring their safety in any way from Circe.

He then refuses to eat or speak, literally "lost in grim forebodings". If he "just got laid", then why isn't he happy? Not many men can say that a goddess CHOSE to have sex with them. He did it to get his men turned back. It was an exchange. I don't think Circe is "Evil" so maybe it slipped her mind. Or yes, she could've thought, "Hey, I got what I wanted. He's handsome enough. Homer never shuts up about how hot this guy is He hasn't brought up the pigs yet. I'll just let this play out. Maybe HE forgot. I don't have to do anything." We don't know. But Odysseus probably felt like he got deceived.

"Hey, I did my part of the deal. I slept with you. Now do yours."

She pressed me to eat. I had no taste for food. I just sat there, mind wandering, far away … lost in grim forebodings. As soon as Circe saw me, huddled, not touching my food, immersed in sorrow, she sidled near with a coaxing, winged word: ‘Odysseus, why just sit there, struck dumb, eating your heart out, not touching food or drink? Suspect me of still more treachery? Nothing to fear. Haven’t I just sworn my solemn, binding oath?’

So she asked, but I protested, ‘Circe— how could any man in his right mind endure the taste of food and drink before he’d freed his comrades-in-arms and looked them in the eyes? If you, you really want me to eat and drink, set them free, all my beloved comrades— let me feast my eyes.’ So I demanded.

(Fagles, Book 10)

He doesn't trust her despite what she had told him that he should when they sleep together. He has figured out that while she will not hurt him, his men were not a part of that oath, the men he was trying to protect in the first place.

She is then moved by how they rejoice when they see one another again. While turning people into animals for funsies isn't cool and coercion is fucked up, I think she comes to see this group as not quite friends but I think she did find them entertaining in a way.

This is very strange but I've seen some folks say that since Odysseus was pissed at Eurylochus for still not believing him about Circe is proof that "Oh he was trying to defend her!". Which??? Uh, Eurylochus was literally questioning his leadership as a whole. Calling him reckless and shit. He is captain and he's the King, he can't let that shit slide. The text literally says "Mutinous". Also if I had to sleep with someone I did not want to especially if it was to save my friends and I got called names afterward I'd get fucking pissed too.

Only Eurylochus tried to hold my shipmates back, his mutinous outburst aimed at one and all: ‘Poor fools, where are we running now? Why are we tempting fate?— why stumble blindly down to Circe’s halls? She’ll turn us all into pigs or wolves or lions made to guard that palace of hers—by force, I tell you— just as the Cyclops trapped our comrades in his lair with hotheaded Odysseus right beside them all— thanks to this man’s rashness they died too!

They stay a year. Again it's never stated that Odysseus slept with her that whole time. You could interpret that. (Honestly, I feel Circe would get bored with him? She's a goddess, she's got more important matters than mortal men. And she definitely doesn't love him.)

His men DO have to bring it up that "Odysseus has forgotten his native land." Maybe they thought they could sneak out without her knowing??? I am fucking REACHING but hold on as Telemachus did because he knew Nestor would well, be Nestor and try to coax him with "Have a meal with us! Let me tell you about how badass I used to be in my youth." But to sneak away from a goddess? Without her permission? That won't end too well. Aeolus in the beginning kicked out Odysseus when he tried to ask for another bag of wind. If she didn't want him around, she could literally boot him out. While she didn't force him to stay like Calypso did, she didn't "release" him either.

We don't know if they've been asking for a long time. Odysseus does say to Circe that they have been begging him nonstop, but he could also be saying that to try and convince her. He's good at persuasion. I think while he knew he could rely on her for food, shelter, and good advice, he still didn't feel...SAFE with her. I think he was possibly avoiding her personally.

I think HOW he asks her to leave is important to know as well.

...but I went up to that luxurious bed of Circe’s, hugged her by the knees and the goddess heard my winging supplication: ‘Circe, now make good a promise you gave me once— it’s time to help me home. My heart longs to be home, my comrades’ hearts as well. They wear me down, pleading with me whenever you’re away.’

(Fagles, Book 10)

Throughout all of Homer's works, the characters grasp another's knees when they are desperate and are literally at the other person's mercy. Priam did when begging Achilles for Hector's body back. The man who literally killed his son and was defiling his body by dragging it around. Leodes grabs Odysseus' knees to beg for his life before Ody kills him. If he saw her as a friend, and not a captor, WHY DID HE FEEL THE NEED TO BEG IN ORDER TO LEAVE?! No one, who is in a healthy relationship, has to BEG for permission to leave. Or to "Break up", if you interpret them as still sleeping together.

And even Circe acknowledges that he is there against his will!

‘Royal son of Laertes, Odysseus, old campaigner, stay on no more in my house against your will.

(Fagles, Book 10)

[...]Odysseus, man of many resources, scion of Zeus, son of Laertes, don’t stay here a moment longer against your will

(A.S. Kline, Book 10)

This is probably another reach that you can ignore but the whole "they wear me down", could be trying to appease her. "Look, you're REALLY cool, it's actually my crew that wants to leave hahahah please don't kill them"

I mentioned before how Telemachus snuck away from Nestor but that was simply out of necessity because he needed to go home now. Not rest for the night. NOW. Nestor is just everyone's grandpa. Menelaus kind of talked more but Telemachus is very straight up in "Please I have to go now" and Menelaus immediately got things ready for him. He never has to beg and clasp his knees. Telemachus was never afraid. Menelaus is a fun uncle and Helen is your cool auntie.

Back to Circe! She tells him instructions for the underworld, they were in her bedroom. But that might've been the only way to speak with her. As even Penelope is usually away from the suitors when they are in her halls, Circe may have done the same. The text never states she played hostess physically. If she was hosting in the halls during the day, why did Odysseus wait until night to talk to her? He could've just asked her while she was on her throne in front of everyone. (He did so with the Phaeacians)

Or maybe he went alone because she only swore an oath to not harm him and so he didn't want his men near if she decided she didn't want to let them go. I could be missing something here so feel free to say something. Idk if this was a pride thing on how "I don't want others to see me beg".

She has info he needs in order to go home as well. She tells him to go to the Underworld.

She gave him new fine clothes and put on pretty clothes herself but that doesn't mean they had sex. Nausicaa gave him nice clothes as well but he never slept with her.

Then he leaves. Immediately. Not even doing a headcount as he didn't realize one of his men had died. (That was negligence on his part but he wanted out) He booked it, to the UNDERWORLD BY THE WAY. Circe even had to sneak the animals he needed for the sacrifice. Odysseus even basically said "She's a goddess. She can do things mortals can't" at the end of the book. And it almost feels...Numb? Solemn? Neutral? Gives a "It is what it is" vibe.

But Circe got to the dark hull before us, tethered a ram and black ewe close by— slipping past unseen. Who can glimpse a god who wants to be invisible gliding here and there?

(Fagles, Book 10)

She’d slipped past us with ease, for who can see a god move back and forth, if she has no desire to be observed?

(Johnston, Book 10)

She's a goddess. She has magic. She can do whatever the fuck she wants.

NOW ON TO BOOK 12!!! That was long! GET A SNACK AND WATER! LUCKILY THIS'LL BE SHORTER!

In Book 11, Odysseus swears, upon all his loved ones in Ithaca, to Elpenor that he'd give him a proper burial as he's been "unwept, unburied". So in Book 12, he sails back to Aeaea to fulfill his promise.

But you know what's funny to me?

He didn't tell Circe he was there.

He didn't even go to greet Circe himself. He sent his men to go get Elpenor's body.

The biggest clue that he didn't love/trust her is that if she was his "Affair partner" then why not go see her for "one last night together"?

SHE came out herself and pulled him aside to know what happened and then gave more advice.

I dispatched some men to Circe’s halls to bring the dead Elpenor’s body. [...]

Nor did our coming back from Death escape Circe— she hurried toward us, decked in rich regalia, handmaids following close with trays of bread and meats galore and glinting ruddy wine. [...]

But Circe, taking me by the hand, drew me away from all my shipmates there and sat me down and lying beside me probed me for details

(Fagles, Book 12)

In every translation, it talks about how he sits, and she lounges/lies down. That's not sex 🙃 In some translations, it even says he tried to be with his shipmates but she pulled him away!

So we lay down and slept beside our ship’s stern cables. But Circe took me by the hand and led me away, some distance from the crew. She made me sit, while she stretched out beside me on the ground. 

(Johnston, Book 12)

Then, she gives advice about the sirens, Charybdis, Scylla, and her father's Cattle. He tries to ask if he could save all his men. She scolds him for even thinking he could try. He again books it out of there.

I think we all know it wasn't "love". But I think a lot of people think Odysseus was willing and happy with whatever this was. "Friends with Benefits", if you will. I guess you could see it that way but I will say that makes me feel itchy with the whole power dynamic and fear. I don't think folks who have that arrangement have to beg on their knees to ask if they can leave though.

I mean the entirety of Book 10 gives me the vibes of "Laughing uncomfortably because you don't want to upset the other person". To just grin and bear it.

A lot of this was just putting the text here and picking it apart step by step. What you do with this is up to you. It's rambling while banging pots and pans together.

Maybe you see him as drugged the entire year and still sleeping together, as the moli "wore off". Even then, just because her magic can't affect him, there are plenty of natural concoctions that can be created that can affect mortals.

Maybe you see the entire year as sex work in exchange for shelter and food.

Maybe he was just alongside his men the whole time under her roof and was avoiding her after the exchange. After he got asked by his men to finally leave, he would start to walk up to that room only to freeze and turn around, thinking "One more day won't hurt. Should wait until I know she's in a sympathetic mood".

I beg of you, however, PLEASE understand that there was fear and coercion throughout his entirety on Aeaea. He wasn't staying to get laid. While there is so much going on and too many things that are left vague to really know exactly what happened, it is consistent that he was scared/numb. Lots of people go through with things they don't really want to do just to appease others. There are plenty of situations of sexual trauma where one person goes through something and the other has no idea the other person isn't okay. ESPECIALLY WHEN SOMEONE CAN HARM THE PEOPLE YOU CARE ABOUT AT ANY MOMENT!

Sexual trauma is a very complicated thing and while he was scared, he definitely wasn't as traumatized by her as he was by Calypso. Calypso was a torturous hell while Circe was a year of walking on eggshells. Not comparable but I still think it should be acknowledged. It's wild because I read the Odyssey and kept thinking "Y'all are calling the sex slave a cheater? The guy who slept with a goddess to get his men back? The ultimate simp apparently doesn't love his wife??"

Things I'm adding that shouldn't affect the argument as it is not in the Odyssey but I want to mention as it's a "fun fact": Odysseus' dad was an Argonaut. Laertes probably met Circe as well, (or knew of her) with the whole purifying thing and maybe Odysseus heard his dad tell stories of her. Later myths also have Circe with the habit of turning her crushes (or their lovers) into something with Scylla and Picus.

In conclusion, Yeah, he was afraid of her. At least to an extent. And don't pull the whole "Ancient men didn't get raped". Male victims exist and deserve compassion for what was done to them and women are capable of sexual abuse. If you think otherwise, you are not a true feminist and Fuck you. I said in the beginning this'll be casual and I don't wanna write a fancy ending. You can still think Circe is neat but you have to know that this was fucked up.

If you think a lot of this is bullshit or wanna give more context or wish to yell with me but still know he wasn't alright on Aeaea, cool. If you want to point out mistakes or something I should keep in mind with interpretations then feel free to say so but give text evidence. If you try and bring up the Telegony and/or Madeline Miller's Circe, fuck clean off. This is Homer. If you call Odysseus a whore and not the malewife he canonically is I'll start biting. 😤

#feel free to add thoughts! just be nice #Was a bit afraid to post this but now I don't care lol #I'm a tired bitch #Youtube and idiots on tumblr got me acting up. #This may be too thorough but idc. #idk why the colors get weird #I don't know how other people can see all these things lined up together and not see how he was not okay. #like I said you can still like circe the goddess but know this was wrong! #might make private sometime but fuck it #anti-madeline miller #Circe the goddess is “fine”. Circe the book is not #It sounds like it does her dirty anyways. Odyssey Circe would take book Circe out back and beat the absolute shit outta her. #As another Madeline I'm ashamed. #if you bring up the tele-GONE-y then BEGONE yourself #odysseus #the odyssey #odyssey #circe #tagamemnon #tw rape #tw sa #tw sex assault #crying shaking throwing up #greek mythology #circe rant #odyssey rant #anti madeline miller #anti circe #the BOOK #Mad rambles

[butmakeitgayblog]

I think your understanding of canon Clexa and their characterization/dynamics is really spot on, which makes me really excited to read your canon story. The ask about canon Clarke being Loud made me wonder what your take would be on how their first time went? It’s obviously a scene that’s been written in fanfic a ton but since you seem to be against the typical “heda got fucked into a nap” narrative I’d love to know what the version of events is in your head?

Oh no, I do believe Lexa got fucked into a nap 😂

I just don't believe that was all that happened, nor that it happened the way a lot of people think 👀

Sorry in advance for the rant.

I've said it before and I'll say it again: I don't agree with some people's fandom interpretation of Lexa being this ultimately hesitant/demure or reserved person. At least not when it comes to how she expresses herself romantically. Now, I'm not shitting on the people who do see her like that and have written her like that for canon by any means because it's certainly understandable given the way she carries herself overall. I do get it.

But to me at least, Lexa is not a reserved person. Not when she's interested in someone. Not romantically, and certainly not physically.

From the very second she decided she was going to go for what she wanted with Clarke - when she decided to be honest and active about her feelings - what did she do? How did she behave?

Well. She took the reins and kissed Clarke exactly how she'd been wanting to kiss her for days

She took command and pushed into the feel of it and chased Clarke's lips to stretch the moment as long as she could

Yes she backed off when Clarke pulled away and said not yet, but that doesn't negate the fact that she very much did exactly what she wanted to do. That doesn't negate the fact that Lexa slipped her hand through Clarke's hair and tugged her in by the neck and kissed the living shit out of her simply because she wanted to.

Now here's where things get jumbled up imo and where people kind of... lose sight of Lexa for who she is. Because after this comes the mountain and then the subsequent betrayal, and after that Lexa is left hanging in this weird love/hate limbo (Clarke's, not hers. Obviously.) Was Lexa reserved during that time? Yes. Because she was trying to be respectful. She assumed Clarked hated her and would probably never forgive her. She felt she'd already done enough damage to ruin any hope for a relationship between them, so all that was left was to be respectful and love Clarke from afar. (That's glossing over many instances of Lexa still, STILL, showing her affections outright i.e. touching her when Emerson charged at her, the vow, showing up to Clarke's room dressed like a harlot a relaxed woman who just happened to like showing a whole lotta leg. You get it)

Which brings us to the afternoon Clarke was going to leave, and my God the girl was devastated. She was holding it together because that's what Lexa's does. Because Lexa was used to losing everyone she ever cared about. That's just how her life went. But also she was trying her best to keep it all together for Clarke's sake. To not make the decision of going back to Arkadia any harder for her than she knew it already was.

But even then, even in her facade of strength for both of their sake, Lexa still gave in and showed Clarke the crack in her armor. Lexa was methodical in everything shw did, and yet still she let slip, "That's why I...". Because she knew. She knew Clarke would understand what she was saying even when she wasn't ready to actually hear it. She let it "slip" because if that was going to be the last time they were together, she needed to at least know that she'd put it out there. That Clarke could carry that with her forever, if she chose to.

And then Clarke fucking kissed her.

Not once, but twice. Lexa gave her a chance to pull and think it over because of how shaky everything still was, but then Clarke leaned in and kissed her again.

And Lexa didn't hesitate again for one goddamn second after that.

Instead she kissed Clarke deeper than she'd kissed her before. Ran nervous hands all over her and caressed at her wherever she could.

She held Clarke close and actually tasted her with all the hunger she'd been pushing down for weeks (whew, thank you Alycia😮‍💨🫦).

She quite literally took Clarke's hands and tugged her to her bed. Like??? Heda really said through body language "oh we are going to fuck" (but... sweeter)

Yes she was patient and gave Clarke a chance to say no because, again, she was still very aware of how tenuous this seeming forgiveness probably was in Clarke's eyes. But that doesn't change the fact that she made it clear what she wanted. She put her affection and her yearning - all of her vulnerability right out there for Clarke to take or leave, and she did it in way that there was no mistaking exactly what she was asking for.

But Clarke didn't pull away, and what did Lexa do?

She grabbed her again. She pushed their intimacy forward again. She tugged Clarke down to the bed and not only gave herself to Clarke, but also took everything she had wanted.

So you see, Lexa was never passive in her expressions of attraction toward Clarke. She was never truly hesitant when it came to physically going for what she wanted when it came to wanting to be intimate with her. She kissed Clarke and she touched Clarke and she reached out for her time and again without shame, only stopping herself when Clarke put a stop to things because Lexa would never take something Clarke didn't openly give.

Which makes me believe Lexa would've been even less reserved when she was finally, finally, allowed to do all the things she'd yearned for. Yes she'd given Clarke the control to begin with because they both needed that kind of reassurance in their intimacy, but afterward? When it was Lexa's turn to show Clarke exactly how much she wanted her?

I believe Lexa would've been exactly who she always was when it came to being in love: giving and expressive, unabashed in her naked want. I think she would've kissed Clarke until their mouths ached and tasted every drop Clarke had to give. I think she would've begged Clarke to moan for her just so she could have those memories of making her lose control to keep with her forever. I think she would've fucked Clarke like it was their first and last time all rolled into one, because as far Lexa knew, that's exactly what it was. I think she would've teased her just to see Clarke smile and then teased her just to hear her whine. I think she would've done everything to stretch the afternoon out even while knowing they were racing against the clock. And I don't think she would've felt hesitant about any of it. Not about giving herself entirely to Clarke, both dominantly and submissively.

Cuz yeah Miss Lexa was a very happy camper after round one

But she sure as hell still wasn't shy about having her own turn

#anon #clexa #lexa kom trikru #clarke griffin #idk if this is what you were looking for but I inevitably go on rants when I answer canon asks before bed 🥴😬 #and yeah I do touch on what happened that afternoon in my canon fic 👀 #to be posted on an ao3 near you soon... ish

[yourtoradorasextendedwarranty]

You are not ACAB. You're an asshole

SO this post has been a long time coming and I have sent a rant to several people to look over it for me just so I could get opinions. And most agreed with what I had to say. However it was mean, callous, and too "I'm ok being an shithead" for my taste.

If I am being 100% honest, people hate cops just to hate cops. It's not because there are cops that do wrong. It's just because they are told to/programmed to hate cops. Ok, so why do I say that?

Well a few reasons.

For the past 40 years *minimum* it has been a point of the media to showcase any time a cop does anything bad. Because what better way to "Reach the people" than to assuage them with a "Hello fellow Americans. Doesn't it suck with cops get on our ass about stuff".

Social media has been using bait for years in order to get more traffic to more links and articles. This alone has made rage baiting as an entirety more of an issue.

Because of both of the above, there was a time when alt media *at the time* and social media worked in tandem to constantly show off instances of cops being assholes or outright doing things that were illegal.

So what does this mean. Well it means that you are under a notion that is already provided to you. "Cops are ruthless bad guys that don't do anything for anyone at all".

Except that's not even remotely true. What is true is that often, any positive stories involving cops is buried or glossed over and only ever talked about in very local reports. What's more a cops job is to do the right thing. So when a cop does do the right thing, the understanding is that they are not meant to receive praise. However, that is lopsided in how it works. It more or less means that you are under the LARGEST of microscopes, and if you fuck up at ALL, then you end up as a youtube video that reinforces that "Cops are bad guys" or "Cops are stupid and annoying". Rather than the truth which is that cops themselves are human beings.

Now. I can already see the comment from the shitheads. "ACAB EXISTS BECAUSE-" Shut it. I don't care. Unlike most of you I understand nuance. And more than that, I've had poor run-in's with cops. I have also had to work along side them as private security as well. And my mother, who's not shy about telling people they fucked up, worked as Dispatch and as a Secretary for the PD in the small city we lived in. "Oh well then your brainwashed", you can say that but it does not make you right.

Unlike you, clearly I'm able to think critically about subjects where as you are not. Am I a "Back the Blue" cultist? Absolutely not. I'm solely in the camp of Abolish Unions and hold officers to account for what they do wrong.

However, having said that, Cops duty to uphold the law sometimes manifests in ways that we don't like. Like Uvalde. The cops were in their rights to stop the shooter, but the top brass would have decimated any officer that decided to not follow his order of standing down. I don't think that's ok. Hell that entire chain of command should have faced a lawsuit. But where they DID properly enforce the law, is stopping parents from going in. Because had a parent gone by cops in order to stop the shooter, at that point, it legally could have been considered vigilantism.

Regardless of the moral implications of that, fact is, that's the truth.

So why am I making this post? Mostly because ignorant people exist in this world and their only reason for living at all is just to hate. "All cops are bastards"? Are you so sure? I wonder how many people in the US over the past 100+ years have been saved by cops. I wonder how many kids have been rescued from abuse. I wonder how many women have been saved from rape. I wonder how many kids have been save from gang violence or drug dealing.

Saying, "All cops are bastards" is no different than saying, "Yes all men". Functionally you are saying the same thing. And while you may say, "Hey that's not the same one is an immutable trait and the other is a job", to which I'll say, sure. Except you are making a gross generalization. Which IS the same. And ignores every single decent, good, great cop that exists out there. And every single good cop that has ever existed.

In my last post talking about this, I stated that people that are ACAB don't really hate cops. They just hate that they can't break the law without consequences. And I still believe that, but let me add a bit of nuance to that.

Most of the people that hate cops are programmed to hate cops. Because, like the media does, it picks something that will engage you, and will put it in front of you any way it knows how to. There are also a lot of people out there that hate cops because they can't break the law. That's also very true.

However there is another group that exists and it's Anarchists. Now, I have followers and people that I follow that are Anarchists. And while I view them as different from Tankies, Fundamentally they share the same, "Ideal Utopia" idea. Which is that, "Under my ideals, the world would be better". Except it won't be. It will be warlords and dictators forming groups. Assuming that we don't get taken over by Islamic Extremists, China, or the UN. Their ideals aside, they hate "The State" in all it's forms. And if you are fine with any form of "State" they will quite literally go off on a tirade of why you are a bootlicker. *Sigh*

Now, the last of these groups is just people that either 1) Do not understand what goes into being a cop and just hates them based on baseless notions, or 2) People that have had bad run-in's with cops and take that notion out on ALL cops.

So for these last two sets, things are difficult to deal with. Because they will go out of their way often to not care about how hard it is to be a cop. What do I mean?

Well for starters, cops are expected to be perfect at all times.

Perfect Aim

Perfect knowledge of all laws both federal and local

Perfect judgement at all times

Perfect execution of force at all times

Perfect response at all times

Perfect awareness of surroundings at all times

Perfect ability to listen to the law but also not piss off people breaking the law

And I could go on. Humans are fundamentally imperfect. They always will be. So expecting a cop to be perfect is like asking your SO where they want to eat every day for a month and them knowing right away. Unless you're a LIAR it's not going to happen. Same such, cops can't be perfect. Combine that with having to both uphold the law AND be sure to follow the law at the same time, then combine that with the dangers of the job, the fact that human beings are ANIMALS that are violent by nature, and unpredictable on top of which, with use of force laws. And yeah. You don't have a good time. It becomes a huge issue of people that are like, "Why didn't just just tase him?" or "Why didn't you just shot the gun out of his hand" or better yet, "He only had a knife and was threatening to kill someone. Why'd did you have to shoot him, you are not judge jury and executioner."

And that's where you are both right and wrong.

Right in the fact that they are not a Jury. Wrong about the fact that they are not acting in their capacity to judge a situation, and execute those that are too great a risk to subdue. And if you ever talk to a person that does MMA, subduing a person is not as easy as you think. More over, Tasers are not considered, "non-lethal". In a lot of cases they are considered lethal because you are delivering a shock, meant to incapacitate someone. Meaning that you have the risk of permanently injuring them, OR killing them if their heart stops. Hell you could also in theory turn them into a vegetable.

But sadly no one considers all of these things. And only people familiar with cops and how their jobs work, know any of this.

Am I justifying bad, or even evil cops with this post? No. I think cops fundamentally need more training. I also think that they need frequent psychological evaluations to see the effect of the work on them. Because some of the things you see in your capacity as an officer can be gruesome. Dead bodies. People that have been mutilated. Dead kids from drugs or gang shootings. And the list goes on and on and on.

Recently I made a post talking about how since the summer of 2020, there have been less good cops. And fact is, because of the 2020 riots, a lot of good cops did quit their jobs. That's a fact. Many actually put in for early retirement. And not because "They were being held to account". No. It was because they were told, "If you do your job, we will riot outside your station. Firebomb your cars and homes, and we will find a way to railroad you into prison".

So what do we see in NY and LA? Car break ins. Looting. Beatings in the streets. Cops that will literally stand down while people are being hurt. Why? Because why the hell would anyone be a cop when you are under a microscope SO LARGE, that even the SMALLEST twitch in the wrong direction could end your career and possibly your life.

It's easy to say, "Yeah I'd stop those looters and assaulters". Sure. Right up until the are a protected class. Then enjoy your media crucifixion, loss of work and likely stint in jail. As well as your family getting death threats for years to come. So given all this, I made a point that a lot of hires over the last 3 years have probably been scraping the bottom of the barrel. Because in truth, knowing all the above, why WOULD anyone be a cop? Certainly there are still good cops. But a lot of the good ones quit.

What's more, Now a days it's better as a cop to just NOT enforce the law. Because why risk everything I mentioned. You protect the law and you make the conservatives happy but piss off the woke. And the woke currently more or less control law and media. Good luck getting shanked in jail. If you don't uphold the law, you piss off people who want you to enforce it but you probably get to live another day.

At that point you may say, "OK so why be a cop at all then", and the answer is easy. It's a job. And it pays. Why excel at all when you are expected to be a bastion of perfection? What's that? Didn't use the PERFECT amount of force? Death Penalty. Oh? You shot a guy that pulled a gun on you and you didn't just take the shots to the chest? Well clearly you deserve to be put in jail for the rest of your life.

Cops are treated like they are supposed to be absolutely perfect at all times and it's stupid. I HATE police unions mind you. But you know what I hate more. People that have no idea the risk to their lives that cops are put through day to day just for putting on the badge. The fact that cops NEED wiggle room within the law in order to enforce it.

Remember "Hands up don't shoot"? Yeah. So do I. I also remember that it was a fucking lie, and that there are people to this day that still believe that lie. And if not for Police Unions, he might have rotted in jail for the rest of his life. There is no PEFECT in this life. Not for cops, not for anyone. Cops are not superheroes. They don't swing in on a web shooter and punch the bad guy JUST hard enough to knock him out without killing him. And with morality as fucked up as it is in the west, even just in the US, Law enforcement is in a no win situation. At all times.

But I want to find every person that has ever been saved by cops, and force you to tell those people that all cops are bad. And tell them about how whatever they were saved from doesn't matter because "ALL cops are bad". Tell the women that were possibly saved from rape, "You should have just been raped. Cops are all evil." Or tell the kid that was saved from the person that kidnapped them, "Yeah no, you should have just been a sex slave. Cops are bastards and clearly they didn't WANT to help you". Stop making assessments about ALL of any group of people. Because the likelihood that you'll be right is near zero.

There are good cops. And there are bad cops. Police Unions need heavy reformation. Accountability needs to actually be able to happen. And people need to understand how hard cops actually have it. All of these things can be true at the same time. And none of it is justifying evil or bad cops or even ones that don't enforce the law. It's a nuanced topic. And as such, it should be treated so.

#discourse #discussion

[omnidemidisaster]

Poly Hatzgang fluff

This is everything. This drawing is everything. THEY ARE EVERYTHING-. This is gonna be part 1. Part 2 will be right after this stories events

"Train Ride" Part 1

"Cmon! We are gonna miss the train!"

"Hold on!"

Roy shoved Robert and tried pulling Ross onto the train cart, accidentally pushing Robert into a pole and Ross onto the ground.

"Ow!"

"Shit, sorry!"

Roy looked around the train cart, judgy eyes on them. Roy scowled and help lifted Ross off the ground.

"You both okay?" Roy asked. Robert pulled away from the pole and rubbed his head. "Yea...Be more careful Roy..."

Roy looked down a little in shame. "Anyways, come on. I am not standing for 30 minutes" Ross said, sitting down in an empty spot. Roy sat right next to Ross, Robert joining next to Roy.

"Ugh thank god...I still can't believe the train station is a 15 minute walk from the school.." Ross said. "My feet are killing me...PE everyday isn't helping, haha"

Roy put his shoulder bag on the floor of the train, putting it close to him. "Well, at least we are going home now" Robert said, putting his bag beside him. "Unless you guys got anywhere else to be"

Ross and Roy shook their heads, nearly in unison. "Wanna head to my place?" Ross asked. Roy looked down, uncertainty written on his face. "I want to...its just...yknow how my mom and dad are" Roy mumbled.

Now Roy loved Robert and Ross with all of his heart. He would outright die for them. He wouldn't be as happy in life without them. His parents, on the other hand, feel the complete opposite.

His parents see Robert and Ross as "bottom of the barrel brats". They see them as far below them. That if they were injured, they would turn a blind eye while Roy goes for their assistance.

Robert and Ross didn't hate Roy for his parents views on them, but they couldn't help but hate his parents.

"Hey, whatever happens won't be the end. I promise" Robert said, rubbing Roy's back. Roy smiled a little. "I hope it won't. I am not gonna go back to the start"

Ross yawned, startling Roy a little at the noise. "Hah, sorry. Its just I've been so tired like...all day" Ross explained. Roy shook his hands. "Its fine, so have I. Didn't have much sleep thanks to mom"

Robert raised his eyebrow. "What do you mean?" Roy sighed. "Mom had me go to this girls place to meet up. She really wanted me to like this girl but honestly she is a drag. Had me stay there til like 11 at night"

Robert rolled his eye. "When will your mom ever understand?" Roy shrugged. "Never" Ross laughed at Roy's instant response.

Ross leaned on Roy, not really noticing it. "Hm? You need something?"

Ross instantly backed off. "Sorry, didn't realize" Roy looked down and scooted closer to Ross. "Its fine.." Robert noticed the sleepy wearing onto Roy and Ross. Robert smiled and leaned on Roy.

"Guess we are gonna take a nap?" Roy asked. "Well, we still have 28 more minutes till we get dropped off at the station" Ross stated. "Might as well. We can always continue when we get home after homework" Robert said.

Within a few seconds, the three boys started to doze off on each other. Roy had both Ross and Robert leaning on him, providing a replacement for a weighted blanket.

Roy was just in love and bathing in the body heat. Robert's hand rested on his thigh and his mouth was open, drooling a little. Ross's mouth was also slightly open, but instead of drool there was soft breathing.

Onlookers couldn't help but look at the scene. Some looked in disgust. Some just thought it was cute to see a group of friends just resting after a long day of school.

In the end though, it was a peaceful ride. One they didnt have for a long while.

After 20 minutes passed, an older man stood up and walked over to the sleeping trio and tapped Roy softly on the head.

Roy, looking sleepy, looked up at the man. "I believe your stop is gonna come soon" The man croaked out. "Oh? Thanks...how'd you know?"

The man smiled. "I've seen you boys here everyday on my way home from visiting my grandkids. I just wanted to let you boys know before you miss your stop"

Roy yawned and smiled. "Thank you sir" Ross stirred awake, Robert following suit. "Whats going on?" Robert asked.

"Our stop is gonna come soon. A man just woke me to let me know" Roy explained, digging in his bag for his phone. Ross sat up, making Roy whine a little from the loss of the warmth.

"Well, we have 8 more minutes til our stop" Roy said. Robert sat up as well, but pulled Roy close to him. Ross moved back to Roy, squeezing Roy in between the two teens.

Roy looked down, a little flustered. Ross noticed and smirked, reaching down to grab Roy's hand. Roy looked down at his now intertwined hand, debating whether to say something or not. He wasn't opposed, but he didn't expect it.

After a couple of minutes, the train cart stopped, causing the three boys to stand up and get their bags situated. The three boys headed for the now opened door.

Before they left though, Roy turned around to face the old man, still on the train. "Thank you again!"

The man smiled and watched as he made sure the three boys left safely.

#fluff #spooky month #spooky month ross #hatzgang #spooky month robert #spooky month roy #poly hatzgang

[bored-trans-lesbian]

Kristin might just be a bad Cleric.

TL;DR - Kristin's attitude may make sense to some, but it can still just feel bad for her to just make the same mistakes over and over. If it doesn't bother you, fine, but please don't condescend to those who are bothered by it, it's not the morally right reaction to love or hate what we've seen. There's a lot of talk I can already see about Kristin in this new season, and how she's treating Cassandra. Some people are apparently getting upset and talking trash about her, though I'm not really seeing that myself, mostly a lot of people reacting to that by defending her. I've seen it pointed out she's a minor still and is allowed to not know what she wants, About how she can't be happy because she was raised with the idea of a god as a kid and is trying to replace an impossible thing.

I think both sides can admit to liking Kristin, overall, as a character. When I call her a *bad cleric* it's not me calling her a bad character narratively, or Ally a bad player. Not at all. But the cleric class, and the way it works, not only has always been bent for Kristin so it can encompass the kind of character she is, but let's not mis-represent the Cassandra thing and make it *just* another god like Helio or Sol. She was chosen for them, with her will not taken into account. And before you say something about "but not Sol, just Helio" I want you to really think about the Sophmore year revelations about Kristin's faith. She didn't 'make a new god', her power was always coming from either Helio or Sol. She was just being manipulated into thinking she was making her own choices, when really she never really got to make any. She never *lost* her magic despite her crisis of faith, despite her magic being driven by her faith, because Sol *allowed* her antics believing in the end she would wind up serving him anyway.

Cassandra was a *true* break from the mold. Not only did she find a genuinely different god, a true new source of divine magic, but also she downright *devoted* herself to this new god, speaking all kinds of Ernest praises and devotion, not because she was told to, but because she *chose* to. Cassandra *betrayed* and murdered her, and the edge of reality Kristin still chose to follow and serve Cassandra, as the god missing from the system, a perfect goddess *for her* because it's not just doubt, she's also about magic, and mystery... and by the laws of "As above, so below" any way Kristin *feels* about her god, as the sole believer and thus the sum total of her faith, is true.

So now we've got a Kristin who is casually dismissive of, rude to, and it's implied even not really much of a believer anymore, in the goddess she in-universe devoted herself to with so much effort and passion, based entirely on her own instinct and choice, in what is in-universe like *3-4 months ago.* I know it's been a long time for us, and seeing the bad kids after all these years is nostalgic, but truly it has not been much time in universe since Sohpmore year was set near the end of that school year on spring break, and this scene, if not this season, is beginning a few days before junior school year begins. They have had pretty much just a summer break since, which *Seems* to have been completely occupied with battling that-which-we-won't-name. Everybody's stressed, and honestly maybe Kristin doesn't feel as strongly about all this as we are reading into.

It doesn't change that fundamentally, this episode demonstrates that while Sol and Helio were bad gods for Kristin, she herself can be an outright bad cleric for a godess that not only *Can be* whatever she needs her to be, unlike the god she 'made up' which was an empty gesture while still under Sol's influence, but if you compare what Kristin's going through to the trail of faith *Tracker* went under as sophmore year ended and how differently she responded, when her new god after falling out of helio turned out to be problematic, she got down to buisness and worked to better the god from the reach of the followers ruining her. Kristin doesn't have anyone else to blame. She entered this cleric/god relationship of her own account, maybe perusing some idea she didn't fully understand but she devoted herself, willingly, when nobody even told her it was an option, let alone nobody telling her to do it. So if she's already actually disillusioned with Cassandra who is so clearly a reflection of Kristin herself at this point, it might be more self-hatred than anything else, and maybe Kristin herself is just a bad cleric. I'll still follow the show and love every second, and she's a fantastic character.

...I think the only thing that's bothering me is, compared to how much *new* the rest of the cast is showing, this just feels like Kristin's worst hits on repeat. It's disillusionment with her god... again... combined with how shitty it felt to watch her be so terrible to Tracker, s selfish and unnecessarily cruel. This is big "didn't you sleep that off?" energy and while it's very much in character for Kristin to do, it's stuff that she has repeatedly had narrative arcs to overcome, and while yes in real life people are complicated and change is hard, these are characters in a story, and even Gorgug has had more lasting change in his much smaller arcs while it feels like Kristin, at least here in episode 1, is just a new visual gimmick (being buff, more like Helio than ever) while acting like she hasn't learned her lessons. Realistic, maybe. But it still feels bad.

#fantasy high #dimension 20 #kristin applebees #fantasy high junior year

[gabessquishytum]

i've been thinking about a/b/o bitching lately so please consider, alpha hob who has always been... okay with being an alpha? like he doesn't dislike it exactly, it's just... it's never felt totally right to him? he's a natural caretaker and he's always told himself that that's his alpha side at play -- even if the way he wants to take care of his loved ones isn't the way he's always told alphas are supposed to want. he doesn't want to be a provider, but he's always understood that that's his place and that's how he's meant to take care of others so he's accepted that.

until, at some point, he's bitched. which is... probably dubcon at the absolute best and more likely outright noncon. it's not good, either way, but once he's recovered from the uh immediate trauma and his body and hormones have settled... he feels better. he moves so he can start a new life somewhere he's only ever been known as an omega and he feels right for the first time, he feels like he can finally be soft and gentle and caring the way he's always wanted to be.

but, his healing being what it is, a decade or two and he starts shifting back. and it's awful, he didn't hate being an alpha before but he he hates it now that he knows what the alternative is like. but he thinks it might be worse to have to keep being bitched only for it to be temporary, so he accepts that he'll just have to do his best to live the life he wants as an alpha.

cut to modern day, and he's honestly doing a lot better about the whole thing. he's on a whole assortment of suppressants and society's relaxed on the roles expected of alphas and omegas anyway, so he can mostly just be himself and let people assume he's a beta and not worry too much. until he gets into a relationship with dream. who isn't human, and isn't fundamentally an alpha, but is vastly more comfortable presenting himself as one when he's in the waking. except that he knows something's bothering hob, and he offers to make himself an omega instead if being in an alpha/alpha relationship is bothering hob. it's not his preference, but he could.

and that's what makes hob break down sobbing, because he doesn't want dream to change for him, he wants to change. he doesn't want to be an alpha. but he's tried modern hormone therapies too by now and nothing works, not for long. and he can live with it, he can, but he just wishes he didn't have to.

after a whole lot of discussion, dream tries bitching hob. but there's a certain level of... brutality needed, and a degree of intention, and as much as dream wants to do this for hob he doesn't actually want to hurt him, fundamentally. they keep trying, but it keeps not working.

and eventually dream says... he might have a solution. because he's run into destruction recently and destruction, all change and reshaping and violence, is very confident he could bitch hob. and that it would stick. it won't be fun, but it'll work.

just to be safe, hob and destruction don't meet beforehand (which lbr is dream's idea. he's convinced no one can be around hob and not fall in love with him. and he's probably not wrong?) but they very thoroughly negotiate everything through dream, and once destruction is convinced that hob really truly wants this, they make arrangements.

by the end, hob's pinned to the bed, writhing on destruction's knot, pumped so full of come that his guts are starting to cramp. except he realizes that's not why he's cramping. he recognizes the way it felt when his body started to shift that first time, and he's been crying off and on through the (admittedly very painful) fucking he's gotten, but he starts fully sobbing then. and destruction finally breaks character, easier now that he's knotted and he's calming down, and pulls hob into his arms to comfort him only to have hob start sobbing his thanks. because it worked, he knows it worked, and he can trust that it'll stick this time.

dream comes back a couple days later as they agreed he would (unless one of them called him first) to find hob smelling of happy omega and the very beginnings of pre-heat... and his brother, who is very sheepishly halfway in love with hob.

-🐈‍⬛

I literally can't stop thinking about this. Just. Wow.

Hob is working through the trauma of being bitched in the best way he can. He doesn't exactly feel safe around alphas, so he ends up in a mostly omega social group. As his body adjusts to having heats and being, you know, literally submissive and breedable. He realises that he's becoming comfortable in his body? He feels secure in his secondary gender for the first time ever. He loves being in a little social pack of omegas. After several years he feels like he can trust an alpha, and he shares a heat for the first time. It's the best thing he's ever experienced.

He's devastated when his body reverts to the original pattern of hormones and biology. He doesn't want to be an alpha, in fact, he hates it. He tries all kinds of underground hormone treatments and suppressants, but nothing is ever 100% effective. In the 21th century he's able to get some therapy for his feelings on the whole issue, and by the time Dream comes back he has accepted his lot in life.

If nothing else, he gets to be Dream’s partner! And he has an alpha, which feels amazing. He just wishes that he could be honest with Dream about why he's never 100% there during sex.

Of course it all comes out and God, Dream tries SO hard to make it right for Hob. The bitching is... not working out. Dream just can't commit himself to dominating and oppressing Hob in the violent way required of him. And Hob knows that it makes Dream feel horrible to try and be like that, so they agree to stop trying for a while. It's perfectly possible for Hob to be happy in his current body, as long as he's got Dream by his side.

And then there's Destruction. Who meets Dream and sees how happy he is with his immortal lover. Destruction wants to give his big brother a gift, and so he makes an offer. He can bitch Hob - he's not happy to admit it but the whole thing is a product of his realm. He'll make it last as long as Hob wants it.

Destruction isn't gentle, but he is kind, underneath the roughness and violence. He tells Hob what a pretty omega he is, even before the change happens. He feeds his cum carefully between Hob’s lips so he doesn't waste a single drop, and for all that it's brutal and painful, Hob feels like he's transcending into another universe when Destruction knots him.

They do it again, just to be sure. Even though Hob quite clearly smells of newly presented omega, with hot slick streaming down his thighs.

And so yes!!! Dream comes home to a very happy (very fertile) omega, and a little brother who is very apologetic but very much besotted with him. If there's an Endless baby coming along in 9 months, I wouldn't like to lay a bet on who the daddy is!

#🐈‍⬛ anon #the sandman #dreamling #hobstruction #hoblethros #nsft #cw omegaverse #cw noncon

[anonymousad]

read MORE carefully when you feel attacked, not less

I honestly wonder about the reading comprehension of some people because some of the reactions to my posts seem to go like this:

me: I think pancakes are better than waffles other person: WHAT THE FUCK, WHY DO YOU HATE WAFFLES

and... no, that isn't what I said?

I didn't say people don't deserve to be compensated for their work, I said that you can't be trying to pay people like it's a salaried job without having that kind of stable and consistent business income. that's literally how businesses go bankrupt all the time.

I also didn't say that you can't/shouldn't be able to make money in audio drama, I said that you need to do it SUSTAINABLY. off the top of my head I can name several shows that do just that (WOE.BEGONE and Malevolent being two I've mentioned in the past), not to mention people like Lauren Shippen. timing and luck have a lot to do with success, absolutely, so that isn't to say it is easy or guaranteed if you follow in those kinds of steps, but it does show that it can be done in ways that are self-sustaining rather than constantly asking for large cash drops to stay afloat.

speaking of, I didn't compare Harlan to JK Rowling, I pointed out how "death of the author" has been deployed by people who don't want to face HER hatefulness while still engaging with Harry Potter (I know many people like this as we all do I'm sure) as an example of why you have to be cautious when throwing it around as an excuse.

and I definitely didn't say that a Black woman was hoarding resources by having a crowdfunding campaign with a high goal??? very weird assumption for you to draw from what I actually WAS talking about, person on Bluesky. almost like you didn't actually read and understand that whole section before trying to jump down my throat about it.

I have found, both in writing this blog and generally in life, that the more people feel defensive the less they are able to engage with what is being said. anyone who has ever tried to argue for trans or gay rights with a right winger has experienced this, it's the reason that "debate bro" types are so successful. you pick out the parts that make you feel angry and you go on a tirade about them, rather than stepping back and trying to synthesize the whole message.

not once has one of the people defensive about the crowdfunding stuff addressed my key point of it being "unsustainable" in their responses to it. that is literally the thesis, sidestepping it does not make it go away. it just reinforces to me and others that you are not thinking long-term about what will and won't work for us as a community.

I should also say that none of what I post comes just from me. every single thing I've said on this blog has come from at least a few different people. it is not a one-person opinion party, something I'm not sure I've ever said outright. especially with the crowdfund stuff I have had conversations with at least a dozen showrunners who all think the current methods do not work, are not sustainable, and are only benefitting the same people over and over. I have these conversations with my "colleagues" (because I can't think of another word) in the space because I find it interesting and important and valuable. I am engaging with these conversations outside of this blog because I have an emotional investment in us as a community figuring this out so that we can thrive.

I still regret not making this blog when I first desperately wanted to to talk about The Magnus Protocol campaign. (I do have thoughts on the TMA ttrpg though, as a general thing that exists and also based in some basic understanding of how the selected system was a bad choice for what people will be hoping to get from this thing so people will likely be disappointed once they actually play it)

anyway, that's all I have to say on that right now.

tldr: I know my posts are long and there is a lot to get through sometimes. but if you are going to fixate on one sentence and ignore the larger context you are setting yourself up to misunderstand the actual point being made. and yes, there is usually a point, one that I find important enough to bother writing about in the first place.

actually, I should also say that I would be more than willing to have a conversation with Tal or someone else from that part of the community who believes that the current crowdfunding model is working and will continue to work in the long run. seriously, if I am missing something obvious then explain it to me so I can understand what about this is working. and I don't just mean working for you, I mean working for the community and creators as a whole. because I still see a lot of campaigns fail for much less, even when following the vague tips being handed out about how to run a successful campaign.

#anonymous ad #anonymous #crowdfund don'ts #media literacy #critical thinking #reading comprehension #this isn't a callout because how do you even callout people who are unwilling to engage with the full text #and I'm not kidding about being open to conversation because I am willing to admit when I am wrong if that is the case

[finitepeace]

3 months of reading Dramione!

These past three months, I've been reading dramione fics much less than usual. Does that mean I've overcome my fic reading addiction and starts to get back in the real world? NOPE. apparently i just got new pairing fixation now :|

personal favorites are marked with ✿

Spinning the Stars by bionically ✿ | 11k words, TEARS INCOMING beware| Because of course Hermione Granger would find a way to stopper time if she set her mind to it. 11k words

Tempo by bionically | 9k words, draco vs alternate universes |  On the verge of a suitable marriage, a chance meeting with a mysterious time witch gives Draco a chance to review his options.

Grit by witchsoup ✿ | 3,9k words, beware: it hurts |  Hermione attempts to diagnose a secretive patient suffering major curse damage.

A Woman of Independent Means  by PacificRimbaud | 5k words, comedy | In London, 1851, Draco Malfoy, Earl of Wiltshire, has been tasked with gifting the British Museum with a bequest from his grandfather's estate. Simple enough, but for the mysterious contents of the gift, and the museum staff assigned to receive it. 

Carpathian by niffizzle ✿| 102,177 words, E adventure, jaded ministry worker hermione meets dragonkeeper draco in romania dragon conservatory 

Bloody Janus by mister_otter | 6k words, halloween challenge in slytherin dorm went wrong

An Unlikely Companion by happy_valley | 5,3k words | Draco Malfoy didn't mind his mandated job in the Care of Magical Creatures department of the Ministry of Magic. He didn't mind that people stared, whispered, or outright hated him; he was quite happy to keep to himself. But when an intruder barges into his office, he may find more than he hoped for when gaining an unlikely companion.

Potions, Perfume, and Apples by ellywolf111 | 3 k words | When two enemies brew Amortentia in class and smell scents all too familiar to each other, what will become of them?

The Potions Mouse by Misdemeanor1331 | 16,9k words, post war draco is professor and hermione was missing during the war. draco saved a mouse on his potion class... 

Choice and Chance by ChaosAndCrumpets ✿| M, 116k words, 2 version of dramione got involved in multiverse conondrum and led to redemption for both universes.

Forged Under the Stars by xfsista | 4k words, hogwarts au | While searching for a missing Hermione, Draco remembers the defining moments that brought them together.

In Reverse by ToEatAPeach | 8,9k words. married dramione life snippets | "Your hair," he says, without looking at her. "It's enormous, you know." A few silent seconds pass, before Hermione makes a happy sort of sob. "Your chin is too sharp," she whispers. "We grew into them." "We certainly did." Suddenly, her perfect mouth is on his, and he realizes that maybe he hasn't ruined anything after all.

Soft As It Began by rubber_soul02✿ | e, 150k words, investigative journalists dramione | The day after his infamous victory at the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry Potter disappears without a trace. When the rest of the world gives up their search, Hermione Granger, an up-and-coming investigative journalist, is determined to do what they couldn’t: find him.

This, Too, Is Sacred by HeartOfAspen | 86k words | An ancient power has required generations of purebloods to pledge their lives to the blood pact. Draco has long known he was born to uphold this tradition; but Hermione's parents have secrets, hidden details about her heritage… and soon it will be her turn to cast in with fate. Dramione AU

#dramione #fic rec #dramione fic rec #dramione fic #draco malfoy #hermione granger

[dreadsuitsamus]

Chicago Part 2 | Renji Abarai x Reader |

part one

author's note: after a long time trying to continue this, i've decided it's best if i just do a part 3 instead to cap this off, rather than try to push it all into one section. like in part one, this is heavily based on music by the band highly suspect, which i will always recommend you check out! the songs chicago, vanity, and wolf (which happen to be my top 3 highly suspect songs haha) are the ones mentioned in this fic and i recommend giving them a listen just to get a bit more understanding for the things mentioned in this fic.

pairing: renji abarai x fem!reader

warnings: smoking, mentions of drug use and overdoses, rockstar!renji au, angst

The stage lights are hot against his skin, and Renji's already torn off his shirt and tossed it to the fans screaming in the crowd some time ago. It's been a long string of shows in this tour and he's been out of it most of the time, not that you'd be able to tell through his performances. He's as good as ever, still passionate and still following his soul with every word he sings. It's all he's ever known.

It's an outdoor venue tonight, and it's scorching hot as the show nears its close. Sweat drips off of him and his long, vivacious scarlet locks of hair cling to his back and torso, the cameras on him catching every little detail as he approaches the mic stand again and the lights dim as the last song slows. He's outright refused to perform Chicago the entire rest of the tour, much to the band manager's and fans alike chagrin. Ever since that afternoon he last saw you, where he begged you and you still walked away from him, he can't possibly get through the song without wanting to scream and cry and curse the day he met you.

All the other songs he wrote about you are still fair game, though.

"And I have searched my soul, yeah, for you, it's true." His lips practically kiss the mic and his long, dark lashes brush against his skin as he closes his eyes to hide from the cameras and lights alike. "But nothing ever comes out right. And I swear, I'm headed back to the other side, yeah."

Vanity, he thinks. At least I was honest.

"I can't sit around and watch us both die." His voice rings out, so vulnerable and broken and no matter how many times he sings this song or thinks about you and the good times that are years in the past, he can't help feeling choked up. "Oh no—"

"I cannot watch us both die." Renji says to you as he stares out of the window, rain falling gently as a tear slips down his cheek.

You must hate him by now, if for nothing else than surely for using a line from his breakup speech to you in a song that has been heard by millions.

"Oh no, not I. You know I've gotta try." The following cry is directly from his soul, so beautiful and powerful and he's never screamed so gorgeously in his entire career. Goosebumps litter his tattooed body and the little hairs on his neck stand on end at the feeling— the whole reason for the cameras in the first place is that they're making an edit of the tour, and there's no doubt in his mind that this performance will get a complete video of its own uploaded. It's an older song from album's past that newer listeners likely wouldn't know; what a way to introduce them to his most painful memories.

"I need you here." A damned tear slips past him, and he just knows his face is plastered on the big screens of the venue— even without them, the people in the lawn seats could figure out he's a wounded man. The agony in his voice is more than enough; the lyrics and tears just hammer the point home for those that need to be told explicitly that he's a sad, lonely, broken man.

Crying for the public is starting to become his thing, and he hates what it's doing to his image. But this is the last song of the last show of the tour, and after this… He doesn't get to sing about you for a while. The other band members want a break and it's more than reasonable, he knows. They have families, husbands and wives and happy relationships that deserve tending. He's bitter, but not outwardly enough to try and deny them their love.

He can always go solo for a while, if he really wants to torture himself.

"I've tried and I'll try again. You are my friend. This is not the end."

Maybe he'll go break his own heart again instead. By the time the rest of the band is ready to reconvene, he may just have their next album written. It's been a whirlwind in the months following Chicago, and if there's one thing he's been able to learn during his career, it's that his fans love his pain just as much as they love how he parties. They'll listen to almost anything he wants to talk about— Fucking, fighting, crying, it's all the same to them. His self-destructive misery makes them feel better about their own lives, after all. It's as addicting as cocaine to hear a man spill out his life's woes alongside an insane guitar solo.

He thinks maybe he should keep some of the songs he writes for other people, just to fuck with his fans a bit. Imagine if he didn't sell that one song to Ariana Grande? The reactions would be priceless.

You'd be able to call him out easily though. You're one of the very few people in this world that really sees through the bullshit and knows his passion for what it is.

But why couldn't you accept it? Accept him?

"I can't keep doing this, Renji! Sex, drugs, rock 'n roll— that's your thing! Not mine."

"Well tell me you liked the sex, at least."

Mm, actually he understands entirely why you couldn't.

The crowd cheers and screams and snaps their blurry little photos no one will look at as the music finishes out, and without sparing anyone a glance or thanking everybody for a wonderfully successful tour, Renji's lighting a smoke and walking off stage. It's a dick move but he'll get away with it, as is immediately proven by how they don't stop cheering as he walks out of their view.

The music video finishes off with a shot of Renji walking away, his toned back hidden by the curtain of his fiery red hair. It's gotten so much longer since the first time you saw him. He's always been a gorgeous man, truly. If you could love him on looks alone, you'd still be together now.

With an hour left before the diner closes, you've got a single customer in the entire place and you certainly hope to God he'll tip you well as you approach him with a plastered-on smile to pour him his odd request of a fresh cup of coffee at this late hour. Making ends meet has been rough, and your poor momma works just as hard as you do— you don't know what you'd give if it meant she could finally relax and put her feet up, knowing she'll be taken care of and that you'll be okay too.

Your last guest is handsome at least, with flaming hair that sits around his shoulders and with facial tattoos that surprisingly aren't ugly! You didn't think it could be done, but this random man in the diner has proven you wrong. His hairline puts anime's most prideful loser to shame, but he's still incredibly cute. He's got a napkin out and writes in complete chicken scratch, and his lips move softly as he notates what's on his mind.

"'Hey momma, it's me, your oldest son.'" He murmurs to himself, and oh good lord he's in a band, isn't he? With mommy issues on top of that??

"Your food will be out shortly." You tell him softly, not trying to break his flow. And his eyes never leave the napkin as he keeps writing, but just as you walk away he speaks.

"How late is this place open?"

You glance over your shoulder at him. "Just until midnight."

He nods to himself, scribbling down another lyric. "More than enough time. Thank you."

"Of course, sir."

"Renji."

"He did tip well, at least." You mutter and close out the video as you push away the memory; that night changed your life for several years. How dumb you were in those days! Skipped town with a man you only just met, and a budding rockstar of all people. Your poor mother was worried sick until he returned you home several weeks later, but in the end it had to have been worth it for her— Renji bought her a beautiful house at the very first opportunity he had.

The very house you're currently all alone and watching your former fiancé's music videos in.

In your recommended section is a video you must've seen a thousand times by now. It's an interview Renji had absolutely no business doing for several reasons— he was too famous for the interviewer, namely, not to mention he wasn't sober at all. They always catch him when he's under the influence, don't they? It's their best chance to squeeze out the juicy details of his broken life, their best chance to get real stories behind the pretty words he sings, and anger flickers deep in your soul at how abused he is by others. It's bad enough what he does to himself, but the way his pain is seen as a commodity for likes, views and clicks ignites a rage unlike anything else you've ever felt.

"Your new single, Wolf, what's it about?"

Renji takes a drag from his cigarette, flicking the ashy remains onto the floor. It's a dick move and he's not too fucked up to not realize it, but it's this fucking guy's own fault for inviting him. "Think it's pretty clear."

"Well from what I've interpreted, it's about heartbreak."

"It's about my fucking life being ruined, if you wanna get more specific."

"It's by your own hand though, correct? You've got quite the history of self-destruction, arrests, your drug and alcohol addictions…"

Renji groans to himself. "Can't a guy fuck up in peace? Yeah, sure. I did it to myself, 'cause fuck being happy. You think that's how I like to live?" He flicks away more ashes from the cigarette, not even bothering to take a pull from it now and far more interested in fucking up the flooring.

"Can I be honest with you?"

Renji snorts. "Sure. Nobody else is, so why not?"

"I do think that's how you like to live, Renji."

It's quiet for just a moment, but the redhead recovers with a small laugh. "Guess I deserve that."

"In 'Wolf', there's a lyric that stood out to me. "I was born to rock and now I gotta roll." This is after you say you've given someone your heart and soul— most people don't abandon such a commitment."

Renji's jaw ticks. Why the hell did he come on this show again? To be called out and humiliated on camera?? "I didn't do it for fun, or because I wanted to— I didn't have a choice. It was either stay with her and be happy and lose my goddamn self, or follow the music because I don't know who I am without it and lose her in the process."

"Why not find it? You could be a husband, a father… And still be a musician too."

"But will assholes like you still listen if I sing about tucking my kid in instead of screaming about my mommy issues? Hm? None of you fuckers want me or any other “celebrity” to be happy, ‘cause you don't get your money from that shit. What's gonna get you more views, huh? A picture of me getting married or my latest fuckin’ mugshot?"

For the first time, the interviewer is speechless and Renji flicks the remnants of his smoke at the man before walking off the set, swearing up a storm and kicking things over on his way out.

You sigh and look at the old, faded photo pinned to the corkboard on the wall. Even with the age of the polaroid, Renji's crimson hair still burns bright, just like his smile. His big, stupid mouth is curled into the prettiest smile you've ever seen, with teeth blindingly white despite his smoking habit. Still, you fondly drag your finger down the photo, smiling so gently that your eyes only crinkle softly. The day this photo was taken was amazing, and no matter the tension or the burned bridge between you now, the memory of that day and the good times you had all the time during that era raises your spirits as needed.

The ticking of the clock on the wall reminds you of yourself— it's time you get ready for work at the diner. You never thought you'd be working until midnight at a shitty diner again after you left Chicago all those years ago, but time is nothing but a flat circle, it seems. With a sigh, you pull on your uniform and tie the laces of your matching pink sneakers.

But you don't make it past the front door's threshold before your phone's ringing from a number you haven't communicated with in quite some time.

"Ichigo?" You haven't been too particularly close with him in several years— he was always Renji's friend and rival, though you did have a mean streak on Snapchat still going several years after starting it. "If this is about our streak, I'll send it when I get to work."

"It's not." His voice is somber, and the sound of his sends your skin in a carefully crawling panic. "I just thought you should know about Renji."

"... What about Renji?"

"He's in the hospital."

He hates needles.

"Is he acting up?" If he's acting a fool, he's fine and there's no real need to worry.

But then Ichigo wouldn't be calling, would he?

"He overdosed last night during a party." Ichigo murmurs quietly. “I know it's asking a lot, but… Can I fly you to California?"

Ichigo counts the seconds of silence as you contemplate the idea. He's right, it is asking a lot. Your past with Renji is muddied and his obvious remaining love for you isn't enough to erase that terrible history, even with your own heart constantly pouring out love for the man at every single glimpse of him. He was born to rock and he had to roll; isn't that what he sang?

‘And I’m, I'm burying my pain into somebody else.’ He sang that, too.

"What purpose do you think that'll serve?" Your murmur isn't cold nor laced with any sort of venom or loathing; you're already just a soft breeze away from caving in and calling the diner (again) to tell them you're skipping town for a while— for Renji. It's ultimately Ichigo that'll make the decision that determines if your mother returns from her bridge session to an empty house and a Post-It note with too few details on it.

History repeats itself in the oddest of ways, in the most unexpected of times.

"Renji needs someone." Ichigo's pleading is pitiful and awfully unlike him; desperation doesn't suit him one bit. "A lot of things have changed that you don't know about… I can't look after him anymore."

"Look after him?" A sly, mischievous little smile tilts your lips at how you recall the old days with the old group, where Renji and Ichigo went head-to-head on the dumbest arguments, stupid ideas and drinking contests just about every day and night. "You remember yourself in a much better light than I do."

Despite himself, your old friend laughs on the other end. "I'm a father now, with responsibilities! That old way of life is behind me."

You laugh with him and step back into the house, jogging upstairs to your bedroom once again. "Give me my flight details as soon as you can."

"Thank you."

That old Polaroid on the wall brings a spark to your heart this time, rather than the feeling of emptiness and nostalgia it usually does.

"Baby, I met you in downtown Chicago." You sing under your breath, just as your phone lights up with the information that sets a fire up under your ass to pack quickly— that jerk chose a flight that departs in three hours!

#renji abarai x reader #renji abarai x you #renji x you #renji x reader #bleach x reader #bleach imagine #x reader #reader insert #fic

[sophieinwonderland]

It turns out, I'm still not done venting about the SN's smear document and the grievances with my November posts they used to defend contextualize the fakeclaiming and misgendering posts from the admin about me.

A recent post from Lunastus reminded me of this bullet point.

This threw me for a loop because this quote isn't even mine.

It was from the Lunastus Collective who coined the term.

Sure, I reblogged it and defended it, but it wasn't my quote and it's so weird to see this attributed to me.

But with this latest round of drama SAS started, I also want to talk about the drama surrounding the word endogenic and its coiner.

Recap for those who missed that ridiculous drama: The LC coined the term in 2014. In 2021, SAS found a 2015 article that loosely associated the word "endogenic" with Freud supporting the fantasy model. SAS specifically claimed that "the term 'endogenic' can be traced all the way back to Freud's work in 1956!"

But on further investigation, every paper prior to that used a similar but different term, endogenous.

In the end, "endogenic system" is a term 100% coined by the Lunastus Collective.

Endogenic was never used to refer to systems before that.

Now, rather than admit they were wrong, SAS and their entitled cronies doubled down and claimed the words were still too similar, then had the gall to demand an apology from the LC for the baseless made-up manufactured drama.

I've seen some argue that their issue was less with the term and more with the response. That they felt their feelings were being dismissed. (And that part, yeah, was mostly me.)

The problem is that not all feelings deserve to be validated. Not everyone who feels they're in the right actually is. Sometimes in life, you're just on the wrong side, and humoring your feelings will do more harm than good.

Personally, I think The Lunastus Collective deserves an apology for the harassment they received over SAS's smear campaign.

Now, coming back to the latest round of manufactured drama today... let me tell you what these experiences have taught me.

These people don't have "morals." They have friends and enemies.

If you're lucky enough to find yourself on the former list, expect them to loyally turn a blind eye to your wrongdoings for as long as they reasonably can. And when they can't, you can depend on them to make a 20-bullet-point list of things your victim did to deserve it. (Much of which will be fabricated, twisted or taken out of context.)

If you're an enemy, expect them to comb over every word you say. Expect them to twist your words and outright lie about you. Anything to justify their hate of you and manipulate others to feel the same.

This is, unfortunately, their modus operandi.

The thing is, I think they overplayed their hand this time.

I don't think people are really buying the whole "wanting anti-endos to be ostracized is literally worse than death threats or suibait" talking point they have going on.

It's comically overdramatic and, frankly, minimizes the real harm of death threats and suibait in favor of a cheap talking point.

Obviously, people who hate me will continue to hate me and the usual suspects are jumping on it hard as always.

But their posts about this aren't generating much engagement, which SAS's usually do. Usually a couple days into one of SAS's smears, I might have lost a few followers that will take me a whole day or two to regain or I'll get a couple hate anons relating to it.

This feels different. Especially if people were buying the severity of the allegations SAS and pals are trying to push. I have no doubt everyone would be rightly enraged if I were sending actual threats of violence.

But I'm not seeing that here.

I hope this means people are waking up to the lies and manipulation tactics they use, and will start thinking critically about SAS's past smears of both myself and other systems. Admittedly, this might be too much to hope for.

Anyway, you can all can go home now.

This one's a bust.

But maybe you'll get me next time. 🤷‍♀️

#syscourse #pro endo #pro endogenic #survivor's network #survivors network #survivors' network

[albentelisa]

Hi! So, was there any headcannon or theory you had of Merlin in Trollhunters while writing Mirrored Conviction's? Because he could easily be seen as the villain given how it looked like he manipulated Jim when he was trying to make him into a half troll if Wizards hadn't shown why he did that.

Hi, sorry for the delay with the response - I've been rather busy lately. So, without further ado let's proceed to the question.

Honestly, I've never viewed Merlin as a villain. Yes, he totally sucks as a person, and even the fact that he acknowledged Douxie in Wizards changes nothing. On the other hand, I find it interesting that a deeply flawed character like Merlin is one on the good side (and has always been).

And now to some headcanons (which I also use while writing my fics):

Merlin is commonly disliked in the magic community because he's arrogant and mostly acts according to what he considers the most beneficial to his goal (which is humanity's survival). Obviously, that led to countless situations where he outright abandoned his allies when there was an option to save them while jeopardizing the plan. The situation with Jim in Wizards proves it good enough and I feel that one wasn't the first or only time Merlin did that. And obviously, that wouldn't give him much love from everyone else (and Zoe hates him for a reason too).

Merlin led both Arthur and Morgana to their downfall or at least, partially responsible for that. Why do I think so? Let's start with Arthur. I believe that Merlin to Arthur was the same kind of figure Blinky was to Jim - a mentor, an older friend, and kind of a father. However, unlike Blinky who can always find the right words for Jim in his darkest and lowest moments, Merlin either didn't know what to do or outright ignored the problem (somehow, I more lean towards the latter). It seems like after Gwen's death, Morgana was the only one trying to reach her brother. If Merlin had joined her, everything might have ended differently.

As for Morgana, instead of leading her and helping to find control over her shadow magic, Merlin tried to correct her magic, most likely putting her within some strict regulations. He obviously finds shadow magic vile and corruptive, refusing to see that it might be not different from a knife - a tool that could be used both for good and evil. Obviously, Morgana lost all the respect for her master she had most likely possessed initially as Merlin had never listened to her or her opinion.

Merlin is also incredibly stubborn and frigid. He lacks adaptability and fails to either have some backup plans or adjust his plans on the spot. That one is his clear weakness.

And another of his problems is that he's a genius and has convinced himself that he knows better than everyone else. It led to the mindset that only his plans were right and everyone else just told him some unhinged and dumb stuff that would never work (which could be as far from the real state of things as possible). Merlin also genuinely believes that if he cannot do something, no one will be able to do a thing and that if something didn't work for him, it wouldn't work for someone else.

So? Merlin may be intelligent, but he isn't wise. He's too short-sighted to see the bigger picture and too stuck to his own beliefs to see alternatives.

There's some curious detail about Nari. It makes some sense that she came to Merlin after abandoning the Arcane Order because despite all his flaws he was probably the best when it came to giving her shelter. However, Nari also seemingly treats Merlin nicely, despite being his enemy for a long time before coming to him. It may have something to do with Nari's personality, but I also have a headcanon that Nari knew Merlin before he grew to become the unpleasant person he is now. Nari is hopeful, so, perhaps, she still believed he could change his ways.

And now, there's some heavy speculation part. The scene when Merlin manipulated Jim made me think that Merlin was projecting his own experiences there. He seems to be the kind of person who absolutely loathes their younger self. Most likely, Jim was unlucky enough to remind Merlin of his younger days.

I feel that Merlin lost some dear people during his young years, most likely because of his own reckless actions. He probably thought that if he took some precautions it might end differently. That is why he chose to force Jim to undergo the transformation. In Merlin's eyes that might even count as some kind of redemption for his youth's mistakes. He sees nothing wrong with that and believes it is a good thing and that Jim is simply too young and naive to understand and will come to appreciate it later. And obviously, Merlin believes that ruining Jim's everyday life wasn't a big deal. To his mind, it was an adequate sacrifice. Well, Merlin simply forgets that Jim is not him or even his younger self.

I had a discussion with a friend once, who claimed that younger Merlin was like Douxie, but personally, I feel that Douxie reminds Merlin of the close person he had lost in the past (best friend, perhaps?). That would explain why Merlin ordered Douxie to stay away from everything until he woke up - so that Douxie didn't end in some kind of trouble. I feel that Merlin was scared to lose Douxie, because it would be a second time for him.

#tales of arcadia #toa merlin #toa trollhunters #toawizards #toa morgana #jim lake jr #douxie casperan #character analysis #my headcanons #text post #ask box #anon ask

[esprei]

have recently learned there's a bit more hate around trainwreckshipping than i was aware of so i guess i just wanted to talk about it a bit and give my two cents on the ship, how i see it and i guess my perspective on things. i've kind of always wanted to talk about it, but i just haven't been brave enough until now haha (sorry, i am not super eloquent when it comes to writing things like this so my apologies) ((also throwing it under a cut because it may get long and might also include some slightly sad-ish things so i don't want to just throw that in everyone's face you know))

----

i think i'll just preface things by saying i've always totally understood why trainwreckshipping has gotten so much flack since its inception. or hate, because maybe flack just isn't strong enough of a word. but i do understand. there were mischaracterizations of emmet by portraying him as violent to volo because it was assumed that volo was directly responsible for ingo's disappearance. i was guilty of it. suuuuuper guilty. and i can understand why that put the ship in such a position for many people. toxic, unhealthy, etc. but... i think what i'm a bit confused on i guess is the fact that it's still viewed so much this way to this day. viewed as one of the worst ships because of how toxic it is. how unhealthy it is. all because it started that way in fanon only. but you know, from a canon standpoint, it has nothing. nothing at all. so really, this ship could be anything because it's based in fanon only. no canon interactions of emmet and volo exist yet. there is no official basis on how these characters would interact with each other. and yes, while there were misunderstandings of both characters early on, that certainly doesn't mean it's still that way today. that doesn't mean that people haven't studied and looked at these two characters a little closer to understand them better and to try and make them more realistic to their canon portrayals. to make more accurate depictions of these characters and how that fits in to a healthier perspective with them. i dunno. it just kinda baffles me that with the variety of trainwreckshipping content out there now, some still call it toxic and unhealthy as if we're perpetually stuck in that time period of when it was. like it's not allowed to be anything but that ever just because it started that way. and what makes me the saddest about it all is now seeing so many friends and people in the community of the ship start to get disheartened and discouraged from enjoying something they really actually enjoy because there's still such a bad stigma to the ship. personally for a long time i've just ignored that stigma because i try not to let that stuff drag me down. but i will admit that yes, it has made me more reluctant to post any art i do of it. i've definitely had my periods where i've questioned uploading my emmet/volo art, usually as wholesome as it is, because it does have such a dark cloud around it fandom wise. it's why i made my side blog, in fact. because i just didn't feel very comfortable uploading mostly emmet/volo art here to my main because so many people dislike it or outright hate it.

and in regards to the ship itself, i think i've always thought of it in a slightly different way than most. not so much enemies to lovers but rather through the lens of how volo might could change, be redeemed, see the how his actions in the past inadvertently affected others (and by that I mean his involvement in opening the rift... like yes, that could be what caused ingo to be sent to hisui, but we don't know that for sure... and even if that was the case, volo didn't do it specifically to target ingo. volo was only ever interested in trying to get to arceus and build a better world in his vision).

or how volo could look at emmet after getting to know him and potentially see the beauty and value of the current world through him. you know, seeing someone like emmet and admiring that he can still find a reason to smile and be kind despite all of the pain and suffering he must have gone through since ingo's disappearance. volo starting to see a different perspective than he did before (aka wanting to build a new world because the current one was too full of pain and suffering) because of emmet. i dunno. that's just me personally. because since actually looking more at volo's character and his dialogue in game i've been real interested in redemption paths for him. exploring those possibilities. i just enjoy exploring said possibilities mostly through the dynamic i have in my head for him and emmet because it's fun. it interests me. i see cool potential in it. i enjoy it a lot. and while i don't think i ever portray volo super accurately, or even emmet for that matter, i still think i've come a long way since first finishing pla and ever looking at emmet/volo interactions. but regardless of all of that, that's the beauty of a ship of this nature. a ship that has absolutely no basis in canon. because it really can be anything you want it to be. it can be enemies to lovers, it can be more wholesome, it can be whatever. it's not locked into a specific dynamic because the characters have never officially met each other, let alone had a conversation. and even if that were the case... AUs are still a thing. :D

anyway that's pretty much all i had. just wanted to talk about it a bit because i've seen a recent uptick in people mentioning all of the hate and dislike for the ship etc and i dunno. i enjoy the ship a lot. it's just sad to see that there's still so much hate around it even though a lot of the content now is not like how it originally started. not from what i've seen, at least.

and while i don't expect anyone who hates it to ever warm up to it, i just wish it could be understood that the more toxic, unhealthy dynamic is not the basis of anymore. there are healthier portrayals of it now.

#trainwreckshipping #this did end up pretty long sorry sdklfj #and probably not the most eloquent way to end it off but it's ok #it's a little cathartic to talk about this i suppose #also pleaaaase forgive any mistakes i'm a bit tired and am not usually a writer at least not to this length hhh

[sofoulandfairaday]

What do you think about Bella’s relationship with Narcissa/how it changed after her return from Azkaban?

I am so sorry, anon, I completely forgot about this post. I had started answering, then saved it in my drafts and only found it today (months later) when I opened them. Forgive me.

Great question!

I used to love Narcissa as a character but lately, I've started disliking her a little. I think most of the fandom sees her (wrongly) as a victim, even of Bellatrix, when actually the most Bella does to her is be a little rude to her husband and son. The worst Narcissa does to Bellatrix is indirectly causing her death. One of my worst pet peeves is when people write her as cruel to Narcissa in fanfictions when, in canon, it's almost always the opposite.

In the series they only have two interactions: in the first one, she goes behind Voldemort's back (!!!), accompanying her to Spinner's End to protect her (from herself, possibly Voldemort and even Snape), and Narcissa physically attacks her. In the second, she thinks that the Cup has been stolen (which will promptly cause Voldemort to kill all of them if he comes) which makes for a snappy exchange. And still, she doesn't curse Lucius' head off when he puts his hands on her.

Based on these interactions and the fact that they are respectively the eldest and the youngest sibling, I think Bella was always very protective of Narcissa. I always headcanon Bella as closest to Andromeda growing up (thirty years later, she still calls her sister) but Bellatrix's defining trait, contrary to popular belief, is - just like Cissy - her loyalty to her family. It's as much a part of her character as her love/obsession with Voldemort. It's tragic that Narcissa doesn't extend the same devotion to her. Draco and Lucius are very much her priorities while Bella loves her above everyone else but Voldemort. Andy's betrayal probably brought them close together.

I can see them being close during the First War, or at least trying to be, while everything pulls them apart - most of all, themselves and their personal aspirations: Cissy marries Lucius and gives him a son, Bella becomes a terrorist (and while my hc is that she likes Rodolphus and has a good relationship with him, nothing supports that in the text; maybe they fucking hate each other, or are indifferent to each other and Bella outright refuses to give him a child; after a certain while, the sisters had little in common). One can come up with a hundred different headcanons for this period, but I have noticed that a tendency with new mothers is to surround themselves with other new mothers. Bella probably didn't fit in with this crowd, maybe was even hurt and jealous that she was now quite far down her sister's priority list.

After Azkaban? Narcissa doesn't look very happy to have her traumatized sister, fresh from a horror-filled, decade-and-a-half-long reclusion in her home. (Bella was probably hurt by this.) Bellatrix, on the other hand, is very contemptuous of Lucius and doesn't respect his authority at all, especially after the DoM fiasco. From the way Narcissa admonishes her in Spinner's end (“Don’t you dare — don’t you dare blame my husband!” said Narcissa, in a low and deadly voice, looking up at her sister.) we can infer that this was probably a common disagreement between the two.

I don't think Narcissa liked Bellatrix at all, after Azkaban. If I want to believe the best of her, I think she felt guilty for wishing she had stayed locked up. After fifteen years, I think Narcissa had already mourned her, she was as good as dead to her. Seeing this new, unstable version of Bella probably made her feel things she didn't want to feel: guilt, shame, love, and everything in between. The peculiar mix of profound love but also dislike you can only feel for a sibling.

As I have said before, the Black Sisters likely loved each other, viscerally, but didn't really understand each other, or each other's life choices. And both Narcissa and Andromeda strike me as very selfish people.

Not to continuously quote Succession, but when Shiv tells Kendall: I love you, but I cannot fucking stomach you? Yeah. That.

#bellatrix lestrange #bellatrix black #narcissa malfoy #narcissa black #asks #answered #hp meta

[annasinterests]

don't look at me like that unless you mean it

pain, make your way to me, to me ♫ and i'll always be just so inviting

|| series masterlist || main masterlist ||

a/n: this chapter properly beat my ass. like. i struggled so hard to write this one you guys. however, i'm excited for the chapter after this one! i do think the next one will be a lot longer than the previous chapters, i've written a lot and i haven't even gotten halfway the plot of it. that being said, it may take a little longer to push out! as well as the fact that i will be working a lot this week (i do contracting work so i'm also lowkey daydreaming of joel half the time and let me tell you,, i will prob be putting out works based on those daydreams alone lmfaooo). anyways, i'll cut the rambling short- hope you guys are enjoying this fic! :)

word count: 3k

pairings: joel miller x f!reader

warnings & tags: minors dni, angst, reader dealing with past trauma, depictions of anxiety, ellie and reader spend time together, joel is cute at the end — please tell me if i missed anything!

Today marked your final day of administration duties for the week before a much-needed two-day break for patrol rotation.

You dreaded the switch more than ever now, but also because of the heat. During the summer, patrol weeks always felt like they came too quick. You could do the cool nights, you actually looked forward to those more, but you absolutely hated the long, unbearably hot days that preceded them.

The house had been quiet since your last conversation with Joel days ago. Since he held your face and told you that everything was going to be okay with the most tender look on his. Since you once again walked that careful line of what is and what could be.

During the day, you were able to keep yourself occupied with work, but it was harder at night when all you could do was stare at the ceiling and think yourself down a hole.

Ellie took note of your change in behavior. In fact, she knew it all too well. How it always looked like your head was somewhere else other than the present, the quietness, the thousand-yard stare. She especially sensed it when she overheard you and Joel talking on the back porch one night when you thought she wasn’t home, revisiting your previous conversation and asking how to break it to her that she couldn’t do patrol until things settled down. Though she didn’t outright confront you about it, she knew something was under your skin.

And she was right; you just couldn’t shake this off. So, you slung your pack over your shoulder and your gun in its holster on the way out to find the one person who could give you the answers you sought: Maria.

Her office resided on the second floor of the town hall, facing the wall built around Jackson, specifically arranged so she could watch the gate when she wasn't doing other duties around the town.

You thought up reasons and excuses to give for dropping in, but they all pointed to ones that wouldn’t warrant a visit or would reveal too much of your own thoughts.

Coming to the Bison tomorrow? No. She wouldn’t be interested in having that conversation, probably. Hey, any updates from patrol? Too direct. She’ll know you’re looking for something. You scoffed at yourself for not having a better plan.

Approaching her door, you silently prepared yourself for a somewhat calculated conversation. You knew her guarded nature, and you needed to employ a cunning approach to elicit the details you came for. Be light– not intrusive or eager. Maria was smart, you had to conceal and control your words and expressions.

You plastered on the biggest smile you could muster and knocked on the door, peeking your head in. “Maria, not catching you at a bad time, am I?”

Her head turned towards you, “Oh please, come in,” she gestured for you to join her at the window she stood at, "out of anyone, I'm glad it's you that came knocking."

This.. could be easier than you thought. You sauntered over next to her and followed her line of sight that fell upon the patrol, they'd been in a tight circle just before the gate. Tommy stood in the center of it all– seemingly giving a speech as he pointed and paired up people as he went along. When you caught sight of Joel, your heart skipped a beat, followed by a weight of discomfort. You watched as Fitz strolled over to him with a wide grin, which of course he didn’t return.

"Most of the time, I don't feel anything when he leaves," Maria's voice was calm and steady, "because part of me knows that he'll come back." She maintained her gaze below, shaking her head that it was almost imperceptible. "But now.. I'm not so sure of that."

You turned your attention to her, eyebrows slightly furrowed, looking for any indication of emotion from her words, but she stayed the same. Relaxed. Which contrasted from what she was insinuating. And while she was speaking of her own dilemma, you couldn't help but see that it was yours too.

“I’m gonna tell you something that has to stay between us,” you eased your expression as she shifted to face you, “and I’m gonna trust that you keep it to yourself, for now, at least.” Her eyes locked on you with caution before turning away to her desk, leaning her weight upon her palms.

"This group.. They're called the Washington Liberation Front. Most of them are former Fireflies."

Your jaw tensed at the name. The Fireflies, once perceived as fighting for a good cause, had betrayed you in the worst way possible, almost taking another person you loved, and framing it as a sacrifice for the greater good of humanity. Your hands twitched into a fist at the memory.

“Tommy started noticing the same descriptions on the patrol logs, so he sent a small group out for a couple weeks to see if they could find a trail.” You glanced back towards the window; the patrol had already left. "They found camps, concealed caches full of weapons and supplies.. And believe it or not, the last Firefly activity.”

You snapped your head at Maria as she chuckled lowly.

“Seems like they had some big operation in..” she flicked through some papers on her desk, dragging her finger across a page and tapping it once she found it, “Salt Lake City.”

It was like a pair of hands wrapped themselves around your throat.

No.

“I just- I don’t know-” she shook her head, “I don’t know what Jackson has to do with it.”

The wounds were tearing open, reminding you of all the bloodshed from that day, and how it stained your hands permanently. That shattered hospital, a place forever burned into your memories, tormented your conscience and left you wishing that you could erase every second spent in there.

You slowly leaned your arm on the window sill, trying to stabilize yourself as it felt like you could've collapsed right then and there. You hoped to God that your face wasn't giving anything away as you tried to maintain steady eye contact with her, even though she wasn't looking at you. She pulled a tattered paper from her drawer and handed it to you. "We found this the night before the meeting."

With shaky hands, you unfolded a map marked with color-coded strategic points and messages in regard to the group's surveillance of Jackson.

The havoc you wreaked on the Fireflies hadn’t been enough to end them, leading to something far worse; a bigger, stronger, more threatening militia than you could’ve imagined. The weight of the world threatened to crush you, you tried to control your breathing through your nose and struggled to keep your hand steady as you looked over the map. You felt your heart beating so hard that you were sure Maria could hear it too.

You had to maintain your composure. Nobody in Jackson knew, not even Tommy, and you were not about to fill the gaps for Maria right now.

As you studied it, you noticed an emblem in the top right corner that read ‘W.L.F’ with a crudely drawn wolf head right beneath it. Ugh– another one of those cliché military group symbols designed with an overinflated ego and heightened sense of self-importance. Overlooking your personal issues with it, you read a specific note in red ink:

WV - EC - CB

MVL > BM

Mike, Tango 2x, Sierra 2x

Fuck, that does looks like some sort of tracking. Goddamnit, Tommy.

Your face scrunched up as you reread the words, racking your brain to figure out the combination of military-alphabet and abbreviations. You held up the map with an inquisitive brow, “Have you figured this out?”

“No,” Maria shook her head as she pulled out more papers from her desk, stacking them gently before pushing them into your possession, “but I think maybe you can."

She looked at you in a way that let you know that you couldn't decline at least trying. You reluctantly nodded as you folded up the map and added it to the pile you held in between your fingers. Her trust in you was appreciated, but at the same time, you didn’t want it. Not for this, at least.

You gave her an affiliative smile and turned away to the door, but she called your name at the last moment as your hand grabbed the handle, anchoring you where you stood. You turned over your shoulder to her.

“Do you have any idea what they want with Jackson?”

You bit your lip and shook your head in a moment of silence.

“No.”

The rest of the day dragged on longer than ever, and forcing yourself through interactions proved harder to be than you thought. Even though most of your conversations were regular routine checks, you dreaded each one. You counted down the minutes until you could seal yourself away in your home.

The papers stuck out of your pack the whole day, a nagging reminder of what you had to look at sooner or later.

As soon as the town lights came on, that was your cue that your work day had come to a close, and you carried yourself home as quickly as possible, feeling like your legs would give up on you at any moment. Once the door clicked shut, you slumped against it and slid until you hit the floor, throwing the cursed papers away from you and sitting in complete silence and darkness.

You wanted to cry. Scream. Punch, kick, or break something. All day, you had to bottle up this knowledge while faking your smiles and laughs. But now it all came barreling down on your head. You had just gotten everything back, finally able to put the past behind you. But you felt it resurfacing with a mean fucking vengeance, and you didn’t know if you could endure it this time.

If this was your karma– a toll had already been taken. How much more had to give for your sins?

You tried to take deep breaths, but they seemed to make things worse. A familiar dizziness and numbness riddled your body as your hands and arms trembled. The air was getting thicker, and you were gasping out, fearing you couldn’t get enough of it into your lungs. Tears blurred your vision and hot streaks streamed down your face. Involuntarily, you rocked back and forth, hiding your face in your hands and knees that were pulled to your chest, and letting out broken cries and choked breaths.

It hit you with an overwhelming force. Your thoughts spiraled, each worry and concern feeding into the next. Minutes stretched into eternity, and it felt impossible to rip yourself from the vicious cycle.

You rested your head against the door, pushing out heavy sighs to ground yourself from the come down of adrenaline, and letting a profound exhaustion settle in. You rubbed at your eyes to dry any residual tears and massaged your temples, staring straight forward at the laundry room at the end of the hall. The streetlight filtered through the back door and glowed over a pair of Joel’s boots and Ellie’s sneakers kicked off next to each other. You whimpered and closed your eyes, not ready to start crying all over again.

You wanted them home so indescribably bad.

When you opened them, they landed on the documents strewn about the floor in front of you. And with a flicker to the laundry room and back, you leaned forward to grab them and pushed yourself off the floor.

Upstairs in your room, you flicked on a lamp and spread out the papers onto your bed to see exactly what Maria had given you: The map and a roster of members retrieved from their camp, a copy of Jackson's previous and future patrol schedules, threat assessment reports from patrolmen, and descriptions pulled from patrol logs.

You lazily glossed over the threat assessment reports, most of them contained the same details and alluded to the same idea that they meant harm. You didn’t bother looking at the roster and patrol logs for now, not even trying to attempt to make connections between descriptions and names and whatnot.

You grouped the items and slipped them into your nightstand drawer, turning your attention back to the map and patrol schedule. You sunk into your bed as you flipped through the several pages of the schedule, reading the same names, days, and times over and over again, your eyes lingering longer when they read Joel’s name.

After a certain point, you couldn’t make out anything, and a fizzled-out frustration crept in as the pieces of parchment became nothing more than just blurs of ink. Your head was pounding between the crying and attempting to make sense of all the information. Your fingers soothed the skin on the bridge of your nose, gliding over your eyebrows and temples, and then dragging down to rest your cheeks in the palms of your hands.

“Hello! Anybody home?”

Ellie’s voice caught you off guard, you hadn’t even heard the front door open.

“Up here!”

You quickly stowed away the rest of the papers in your nightstand and made your way downstairs. She'd been taking her shoes off on the couch when you saw her, and you felt instant relief. She was home. Home and safe. She peered over her shoulder at you as she fussed with the laces, "All the lights were off?"

“Oh- I just.. got in a few minutes ago,” you turned into the kitchen in time to miss the iffy look she gave you, “wasn’t sure if you were coming home or not.”

Ellie followed into the kitchen after you. “Sorry, I know you said not to be out past curfew,” she gestured two glass tupperwares in her hands towards you, “I was packing up leftovers from Dina’s for you and Joel.”

With that sheepish smile on her face, you couldn’t even be mad at her. She’d been late because of you. You smiled warmly at the sentiment, placing them on the counter and pulling her into a hug, holding her longer and tighter than you normally would, afraid to let go as if maybe you wouldn’t get the chance again. As you broke away, you lovingly smoothed her hair, “Thank you, Ellie.”

She stayed in the kitchen even after you went to store the leftovers in the fridge, watching you with an attentiveness you weren’t particularly used to from her. “Something on your mind?”

Her bottom lip jutted out, her voice a little higher than normal. “No.. Just wondering if maybe you wanted to.. watch a movie?” A small smile appeared on her face as she raised her shoulders.

You mirrored her smile. “I’d love to, kiddo. Why don’t you go pick out what you want to watch?”

She shook her head, walking over to you and guiding you out of the kitchen. “Nuh-uh. You always let me pick, I want you to pick and I’ll get everything else ready.”

You chuckled at her insistence and padded into the living room, crouching before the media center and picking through the titles until you found the one that piqued your interest the most.

Once you had it, you popped it into the DVD player and fiddled with the remote until it was at the title screen. You moved the coffee table in front of the tv and pulled the couch over accordingly, and just when you were about to go fetch more blankets and pillows, Ellie joined you with your share of the leftovers heated up “just incase” and a plethora of snacks and drinks. She swatted at you to sit while she reminded you that you were only supposed to pick the movie and nothing more, scolding you down the hall as she retrieved all the movie night necessities.

“Curtis and Viper 2? I swear, you and Joel are the same person sometimes!” She laughed as she finally saw the screen. “Speaking of Joel– he’s gonna be so mad when he sees that we watched it without him-”

“Again!” You blurted out with her, falling into a fit of laughter.

For the next almost two hours, you were able to forget about your entire day, solely enjoying the time you had with Ellie. Together, you recited your favorite lines from the film without missing a beat, humming the soundtrack while making dramatic action-like moves with your arms at each other. You bursted out in laughter at the cheesy one-liners, and gripped the blanket with anticipation at the climax of the film, though you knew the resolution. Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much and your lungs ached in a happy pain.

This was what you needed.

In somewhere in the falling point of the film, you dozed off to sleep, unable to fight against the soft pillows and blankets you were wrapped up in. Ellie noticed when she went to nudge you during another scene you both loved and you didn’t respond, and instead of waking you up, she lowered the volume on the tv and sat with you until the end credits rolled.

It was well after midnight when Joel came home and Ellie was already in her house in the back. She’d tiptoed around the house to clean up so you wouldn’t have to in the morning, but forgot to put the DVD back with the others.

He almost walked past the living room until he saw the furniture rearranged, taking a few steps in to see you peacefully sleeping on the couch. He mustered up a tired smile at the sight of you, gently reaching out to brush stray hairs from your face.

And when he noticed Curtis and Viper 2 still on the coffee table, his smile deepend despite missing out on movie night once again. He spoke in a whisper that could have easily been to you or himself.

“You two are gonna be the death of me, you know that?”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #tlou #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #annasmasterlist #annawrites