#but not anything about the title or author??

[withwritersblock]

Lover Boy-The Relationship

~Lover Boy by Phum Viphurit~

Author's Note: Listen idk Summary: Luke and Y/N put a title on their relationship Warnings: underage drinking Word Count: 2,117 Luke Hughes x Edwards sister!reader

She sat at the table with Nessa beside her, watching the boys be swarmed with girls. She clenched her jaw as she watched Luke flirt with a short blonde girl. Nessa rested her hand onto Y/N’s arm trying to be reassuring. 

Ethan wandered towards the pair, alone. He held three drinks in his hand as he delicately rested them onto the table. The three glasses were filled to the brim with mixed drinks. Y/N took a hold of one of the glasses and began to sip for several seconds. She forced her gaze back down at the drink, staring at the drink less full. 

Ethan stared towards her, wide eyed. He slowly sat down, sliding his glass towards himself. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked before he took a sip of his drink. She shrugged as she pushed the glass away from her. “Your date not go well last night?” he asked. 

It was the exact opposite, it was the best night she’s ever had. They didn’t get back to their dorm building until after two in the morning. She watched as Luke’s gaze shifted towards their table. He straightened his posture as he smiled politely towards the girl before he wandered away from the crowd. 

“It was fine,” she muttered, lying. Ethan nodded suspiciously.

She watched him walk towards the table, keeping his attention towards Ethan. Y/N dropped her gaze towards her phone on the table. She began scrolling through Instagram.

“What happened?” Ethan asked Luke, he shrugged as a reply as he rested his hands on the table. He let out a huff of air as he shifted his gaze towards Y/N, his cheeks flushing red. 

“She kept asking about when I’ll be in the NHL, not even sure she knows my name,” Luke said while chuckling nervously, he met Y/N’s gaze. She clenched her jaw as she looked towards Nessa. 

“That’s annoying,” Ethan said before he took a sip of his drink, his eyes danced around the bar. “I’m gonna go talk to some girl,” he continued as he danced awkwardly with the drink in his hand away from the table. He pointed towards Y/N while nodding dramatically. He was drunk, it was easy to tell, he never dances unless he was drinking. Y/N smiled towards him before she shifted her gaze towards Luke.

Luke shifted awkwardly as he glanced towards Nessa before he met Y/N’s gaze again. “I’ve got to use the bathroom,” Nessa muttered as she stood up from the table and began manuering through the bar away from the pair.

Luke leaned his body against the table, a shy smile on his lips. “I’m sorry, she came up to me. I didn’t-”

“Luke,” she interrupted, leaning towards him. His mouth clamped shut. “It’s not like we’re dating,” she said as she smiled kindly towards him. He leaned towards her, glancing around him. He checked to see if there were any wandering eyes.

“Well, that’s the goal though, right?” he asked, widening his eyes. 

“Is it?” she asked while a smirk toyed to her lips.

He scoffed playfully as he leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. His lips curled up in a teasing smirk. “I mean of course,” he let out as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip as he pulled his lips between his teeth. 

Before she could say anything, Dylan came up behind Luke smacking his hand against his shoulder, “Come on, we're doing shots,” Dylan took a hold of Luke’s bicep forcing him away from the table. Luke smiled towards her as he shook his head laughing. 

She dropped her gaze towards the drink, she took a hold of her straw and began stirring her drink. 

~~~

Several hours later, Luke was walking both Nessa and Y/N back to their dorm. They were waiting in the elevator. It was awkward silence as Nessa was standing between Luke and Y/N. 

Nessa’s phone began buzzing in her pocket, she quickly pulled it out and brought her phone to her ear. “Hey,” she whispered, her eyes widened as she glanced towards Y/N. “Yeah, I’ll be down in like two minutes,” she mumbled, “Alright, love you.”

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows as she looked Nessa up and down. 

“Derek’s here, we’re gonna go to his place,” she explained as she looked towards Luke. The elevator doors opened, letting Luke and Y/N step off. Nessa pressed the lobby button as she winked towards the pair. 

They stared towards one another, fighting off the smiles forming on their lips. “She’s ridicious,” Y/N let out as she started walking backwards towards her end of the hallway. She held out her hand towards him. He excitedly took a hold of her hand, letting her lead him astray towards her room. 

Shamelessly, he stared towards her frame, watching her hips sway back and forth. “What am I supposed to tell Duker?” he mumbled as she slowly stopped in front of her door, leaning her back against the door. He rested his hands against the door, holding her in place. She looked towards him, shrugging his shoulders.

“Tell him you changed your mind about the girl at the bar,” she teased.

“He knows I’m walking you to your dorm because Eddie asked me too,” he mumbled as he brushed a few pieces of hair away from her face. 

“Tell Duker that I didn’t want to be alone and you slept on my floor,” she said as she dug her keys out of her pocket. She held the keys in front of her face, he gladly took them and unlocked the door for her. 

“He’s not going to believe that,” he whispered as he unlocked the door, handing her the keys before he shoved the door open. He rested his hands onto her hips as he guided her into the dorm room. “But I don’t really care,” he mumbled as he locked the door behind him before he planted his lips onto hers.

She hummed against his lips as he tightened his grip against her hips. She pulled away, taking a deep breath, “We’re not-” she trailed off, suddenly very nervous. He shook his head instantly.

“No, we’re gonna do a lot of this,” he mumbled slowly before he pressed his lips against hers. She began stumbling backwards towards her bed as their lips remained connected. Her body began to tingle as he loosened his grip along her body, gliding his hands delicately along her hips. 

She pulled away from him, breathily as she sat down on her bed, looking up towards him. He took in a sharp breath as he scanned her features. Everything about her seemed perfect. He delicately reached his hand towards her cheek, brushing her hair behind her ear.

He leaned down towards her, gliding his hand from her jaw towards her chin. He tilted her head up. He leaned towards her, his lips hovering over her own. He smiled as he watched her lean towards him, craving his lips against hers. 

His phone began vibrating in his pocket, he groaned as he pulled away from her. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. He pulled his phone from his pocket to see Dylan calling him. He pulled it towards his ear. She sighed as she hopped off the bed and wandered towards her closet. 

He watched her movements, “Duker what’s up?” Luke asked as he watched her reach into her closet for comfy clothes. She tilted her head to the side while widening her eyes. Luke smiled as he rolled his eyes playfully. He spun around facing away from her. 

“I’m staying at Rutger’s to-tonight, I can’t get back to the ro-room,” Dylan slurred. There was shuffling on his end of the phone.

“He’s fucked man, Kayleigh and I are taking care of him,” Rutger offered on the phone.

“Yeah, alright, well tell him to call me in the morning,” Luke expressed as he kept staring towards the small alarm clock on her side table. 

“Will do, you make it back to your room okay?” Rutger asked. Luke cheeks flushed red as he took in a sharp breath.

“Yeah, yeah,” he lied. Rutger hummed.

“Good, man, see you tomorrow,” Rutger said before he hung up the phone. 

Luke pulled the phone from his ear, he delicately placed it down onto the side table, tilting his head back. “Can I look at you now?” he asked, quietly. She hummed as he spun around. She smiled as she walked towards him.

“Dylan okay?” she asked as she delicately rested her hands onto his chest. 

“He’s going to regret being alive tomorrow but Rutger and Kayleigh are taking care of him,” Luke explained as he took a hold of her waist, pulling her towards him. “Come on,” he whispered as he pressed his lips against her cheek, “Let’s get some sleep,” 

He reached around her waist, lifting her up in the air. A dramatic laugh leaves her throat as she is thrown onto the mattress. “Luke, what are you doing?” she asked as she took in a sharp breath. He tugged on the comforter as he climbed underneath the blanket, she quickly tucked her legs underneath. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her towards him. He pressed his lips against her shoulder. “We cuddle now?” she asked as she took a hold of his hand, interlocking their fingers. He hummed as he nuzzled into her neck. 

She smiled to herself as she pushed herself back, creating less space between them. “Is that okay?” he asked, his voice slightly rasped. She spun arond slowly, meeting his gaze. She took her hand away from his and rested it onto his cheek, running her thumb across his cheek.

“Think so,” she muttered as she pulled him towards her, kissing him delicately. 

~~~

It had been nearly a month since their first date together. They’ve practically spent nearly every night together they could. Whether that was a group setting with the other players or just themselves. 

The only other person that knew about their situation was Nessa. It was starting to become a lot of pressure for her. She was doing everything in her power to not let it slip. 

Luke and Y/N were walking side by side through the dining hall searching for something to eat. Ethan, Dylan, Nessa, and Derek were all wandering around as well. 

“Can we tell Duker? It would make things so much easier,” he whispered as he smiled politely to a friend from one of his classes. Her eyes widened as she shook her head. 

“You tell Dylan and then he tells Jacob and then he tells Rutger and then-” she rambled.

“Okay, okay, I get it. I just-when can we start telling people?” he asked as he guided her towards one of the stations. He picked up a plate and began adding chicken to his plate. She sighed as she brushed a few pieces of hair away from her face.

“When this becomes serious,” she muttered as she walked away from him. Luke lifted his gaze as he watched her walk away from. He scoffed while rolling his eyes. 

He clenched his jaw as he finished making his plate. He walked towards the large circle booth the other members of their little friend group were sitting at. There was only one spot left, and it was on the end beside Ethan. Y/N was sitting beside Nessa on the other side of the table. 

“Hughesy, are you going out tomorrow night? Might be our last friday we can go out for a while,” Ethan asked before he took a dramatic bite of his salad on his plate. Luke shook his head as he met Y/N’s gaze for a second.

A small smirk formed onto his lips, “I’m taking my girlfriend out to dinner and we’re going to this drive-in movie tomorrow,” he let out. Y/N’s eyes widened slightly as she kept her gaze towards her food, Nessa gripped her thigh. 

The boys all cheer, excitedly, “Since when dude?” Dylan said, reaching across the table to scruff Luke’s hair. He leaned away with a smirk on his lips, he shrugged slightly.

“I haven’t really asked her yet, but pretty sure she’s my girlfriend,” he said, switching his gaze towards Y/N. Her gaze was still staring at her food. 

Ethan wrapped his arm around Luke’s shoulder, glancing towards Y/N and back towards Luke, “You happy?” Ethan questioned, meeting Luke’s eye. Luke nodded, nervously. “Good,” he muttered as he switched his gaze back towards Y/N. 

She finally lifted her head to meet Ethan’s gaze, he winked towards her.

#luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagines #luke hughes #luke hughes fanfic #hockey #nhl imagines #nhl #nhl x reader #nhl fic #umich imagine #umich hockey #umich #Ethan edwards #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagines #quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagines #quinn hughes x reader #nj devils #new jersey devils fic #new jersey devils x reader

[aaagustd]

room for two | jjk: prologue

a series from the "Misfit Parent Collection"

⌞banner and dividers by @itaeewon

title: room for two

pairing: heir/retired boxer!jeon jungkook x single mother!reader

genre/rating: angst, slow burn, eventual smut, strangers to lovers, ceo!jungkook, divorced!reader, aged up characters (in their mid thirties), surrogacy/pregnancy au; 18+

summary: As you signed the contract, you thought all your problems were solved—and so did he. However, no one can predict what life will throw your way. 

Despite your prejudices, this journey will reveal that the bond you share goes deeper than your womb.

wc: 1.7k

warnings: alcohol consumption, mentions a sh*tty parent, character death, borderline inappropriate workplace relationships but nothing has exactly happened, swearing, mentions boxing & knockouts, people either like jungkook or they hate him, let me know if i missed anything 

release date: april 26th, 2024; 10:50pm est

note: the prologue is here !! i hope you all are ready for this ride. it's been a two year journey for me and i'm so happy you all get to join me. we have a lot to cover and so many people to meet. i hope you're ready !!

series masterlist | main masterlist | inbox | join the taglist? | read on ao3

One year ago.

The doors open to reveal the setting sun on the horizon. Shades of orange and red paint the sky as the faint presence of stars patiently awaits the giant orb's departure. 

Jungkook steps out into the crisp evening air without regard for the gusts that violently displace his perfectly styled bangs. 

His urgent steps have nothing to do with the conditions. After a long and exhausting day, he tends to enjoy a nippy pre-spring breeze. 

When he approaches the exit, his energy is almost completely drained. The first step he takes out of the building is like an instant charge, and the wind hitting his face is like a slap that brings him back to reality.

If that isn't enough to wake up his brain, the sharpness of his security personnel's tone will surely have him alert. 

Two men of large stature guide him to his Porsche. He can only imagine the twinkle in his eyes when they land on his baby—resting idly while she waits for him to claim his rightful seat behind the wheel.

Jungkook nearly bypasses his guards as he takes excited strides toward his vehicle. However, a muscular bicep forms a barricade directly in front of the young CEO, reminding him of the dangers of wandering ahead of them in public. 

Only authorized staff are allowed on the premises. Still, even a company as large as Sport's 5 cannot dictate who stands on a public sidewalk. Fortunately, most of the people who choose to spend their time out here are harmless. However, he still understands the importance of safety.

Some people are so desperate they'd do anything to get a picture with the Big 5—a panel Jungkook used to sit on before being offered an executive position. 

Sport's 5 comprises five individuals who have had exceptional professional sports careers. These are mainly retired sportsmen and women who still love the game.

Jungkook was offered a seat at the table before he could properly hang up his gloves. Everyone wanted to know his story, his input and opinions, and his firsthand account of the KO he delivered right to Joey "The Rhino" Reese.

Although it was the best highlight of his career, he's never publicly spoken on that night out of respect for the legend and his family. It'd be pointless to keep retelling the events when they're online for everyone to see. 

Despite keeping his mouth shut about the fall of an icon, he still receives his share of hate from the boxer's diehard fans.

"Coward!"

He hears a man shouting insults from across the street, but most of his words are inaudible due to the distance. It can't be anything good because a family walking by promptly covers their child's ears every time the man opens his mouth.

Like on any other occasion, Jungkook shrugs off the spew of hate and gets into his car, wishing security a safe night. The engine roars as he pushes start. The sound of purring grasps one of the men's attention, and he turns around with a point, a silent compliment that Jungkook accepts with a nod as he speeds away.

With only headlights in his rearview mirror, Jungkook zooms through the city—wondering where his journey will take him. After the day he's had, home seems like a great option, but he isn't in the mood to spend a weeknight surrounded by silence in a large penthouse.

So, he drives downtown, aiming for any bar without a crowd. That shouldn't be too hard. Most people have work tomorrow, and they aren't in the mood for a party, and neither is he. 

A distraction is all he needs to ease his restless mind.

He reaches the heart of the city and parks near the curb. Heads turn as he exits his vehicle, wondering who he could be. With his shades on and natural hair color, it's hard for people to recognize his identity these days. 

Still, everyone is captivated by the car he steps out of. They could care less about his appearance. The real attention grabbers are the wealth that oozes from his body and his Porsche. Without money, he's just another guy.

Jungkook adjusts his suit as he scopes out the area. He notices the establishment across from him has upbeat music blasting through the speakers. Judging by the people lined up, waiting to get in—it's more of a nightclub than a lounge.

He sighs as he eliminates one place after another, eventually deciding to walk the strip and see what it offers. 

He nearly misses it as he strolls aimlessly, but tucked in the corner—dark and rustic—is just what he's been searching for.

Somewhere laid back and secluded; just somewhere you go for a drink and maybe a few rounds of pool.

He can count the number of occupants in there on one hand, so before anyone can figure out who he is, he steps inside and removes his glasses. He scans the room and acknowledges those who randomly lock eyes with him.

Jungkook can't help but admire the way this place is set up. The outside doesn't do it any justice; he can't even remember the name on the sign. He'll have to check on his way out; tell some of his colleagues to visit so it can gain some more customers.

He'll have to look into that another time, though. He wants to spend only a little time here, so he makes his way to the bar. 

Two women stand on each side; one is at the register printing someone's bill, and the other is already waiting for him to order.

The greeting he receives is warm and sincere. One you will only find in a few places. He offers a smile, the best he can give, at least.

"Hey. Just a Jack & Coke for me," he replies.

With a slight nod, the bartender begins preparing his drink. 

While Jungkook waits, he starts going through his phone, checking texts he missed while he was up to his neck in paperwork.

Most of them are from associates, his trainer, and…

His assistant?

The number isn't saved because he hasn't used it, but he sees the name in a previous message—letting him know he's speaking with the woman he hired four months ago.

6:54 pm (###) ###-####: Hi! I think I dropped my earring in your car when we grabbed lunch today. Can you check?

He doesn't have to.

Jungkook saw when the earring "fell" between the center console and the passenger seat. It happened right after its owner dropped it there. 

He can't help but laugh at the whole thing. Had he remembered, he would have said something immediately, but he has to admit that the low-cut blouse was a great choice. He can't count how many red lights he almost ran, sneaking glances.

Usually, he has no problem keeping things professional, but with all the flirting and teasing over the last few weeks, the temptation is becoming a bit unbearable. 

Maybe he should take a detour on the way home and return the "lost" item.

7:49 pm Him: I'll look in a few

After he sends the message, his drink is placed before him, and he abandons his phone without hesitation.

"Tab or no?"

"No, love. That's it for me.."

He places a twenty-dollar bill on the bar and pushes it toward the woman behind the counter.

"Keep what's left," he insists.

She takes the cash and walks to the register, leaving him alone to sip his liquor and bob his head to some classic rock.

As soon as the glass touches his lip, he takes a large sip, and regret washes over his entire body.

"What the—"

"Don't drink that," the other bartender whispers sharply.

She rushes over and takes the glass from his hand, instantly replacing it with a new one.

"She's trying, but…"

Jungkook understands entirely. She's still learning. Everyone's been there, even him.

"Don't worry about it," he insists. "Let me grab my wallet—"

She declines.

"It's on me, sweetheart."

Before he can argue, she walks away and disappears with the horrible drink her coworker made.

Despite the little hiccup, Jungkook is glad he found this little gem. It seems like a nice place for a good time, but also somewhere to unwind. There's a bar, a dance floor, a billiards table—and whoever is in charge of the music has great taste.

He'll definitely be back, maybe even tomorrow.

The next sip he takes does exactly what it's supposed to do. "Goddamn it."

The liquor makes his mouth and throat tingle as it travels into his body. He can feel his body relaxing already. Now, all he needs is a shower and—

His phone buzzes in his pocket, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

Once again, the number is unknown. 

Jungkook intends to ignore it, but his thumb accidentally presses accept. He stares at the screen in disbelief as he hears the faint sound of someone's voice on the other end of the call.

Slowly, he brings it to his ear and acknowledges the caller.

"Hello?"

"Hi, son."

Great, this is just what he needs right now. A call from his father, someone who basically disowned him for chasing the same dream that led to his wealth and success. 

"Yeah, I'm kind of busy. Can I call you back?"

He lies so he can end the call. There isn't a drink here that can give him enough strength to put up with this man. He can't deal with this tonight, and he won't.

"Hold on!" he shouts through the phone, making Jungkook release a defeated sigh. 

He's entirely prepared to hang up in his father's face if he has to, but he'll entertain him for a few more seconds.

"Look, I don't know who pumped your balls up so large that you have the audacity to call me, but—"

"It's your grandfather, Jungkook."

There's a pause.

There is a long, dreadful pause. It's as if Jungkook already knows what he's about to say, and unfortunately, his instinct is right.

"He's dead."

thanks for reading !!💕 now that you've read the prologue. check out this poll.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts fics #jungkook fics #jungkook imagines #bts imagines #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook fanfic #aaagustd.fics

[muiitoloko]

Hiii! :D I LOVE your writing!! Every day I come home from work I go to your blog to read if there is a new story🌟 I don't know if you're taking request; i would like to make a request about Frank Benson (Eye in the sky) x reader I haven't read anything about him 🥲 and I would like if you could do something fluffly❤️‍🩹 with smut💥 maybe like something about him being married to the reader and coming home after a bad day at work and he just needs to be in control and some release🔥and then the reader being comforting💖🫶

I don't know if that makes sense🙈

Title: In control

Summary: He wanted to be in control and you gave him control.

Pairing: Frank Benson × Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut, foul language and fluffy.

Author's Notes: Hey there! Thanks a ton for the love and support! Your dedication to checking out my blog every day seriously warms my heart! 🌟 As for your request about Frank Benson from "Eye in the Sky," I'm all ears! 😎 Your idea sounds like a rollercoaster of emotions, from fluffy to smutty to comforting—it's a wild ride! 🎢 And don't worry, even if it sounds a bit wild, it totally makes sense! 🙃 I've whipped up something I hope you'll enjoy! As for Alan Rickman in that military uniform, oh boy, does he look like a sin! 😏🔥

As Frank stepped through the threshold of his home, his shoulders slumped with the weight of the day's burdens. The familiar scent of home greeted him, a comforting reminder of the sanctuary that awaited him within these walls. Yet, even as he longed for the solace of his haven, the remnants of his stressful day clung to him like a suffocating shroud.

His brow furrowed in frustration as he struggled with the keys, his fingers fumbling with the metal implements in a futile attempt to unlock the door. With a muttered curse, he finally managed to coax the stubborn lock into submission, the satisfying click of the mechanism echoing in the stillness of the evening.

"Darling, I'm home," Frank called out, his voice a weary rasp as he pushed open the door and stepped inside.

As you heard Frank's weary voice calling out from the hallway, you quickly turned off the stove and removed the pan from the fire, setting it aside. With practiced ease, you slipped off your apron and made your way to where Frank stood, struggling with his uniform.

Seeing him wrestle with the buttons of his military coat, you couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for the man you loved. His gray hair was slightly disheveled, and the furrow in his brow spoke volumes about the weight of the burdens he carried.

"Hey there, soldier," you said softly, stepping closer to him and placing a gentle hand on his arm. "Rough day?"

Frank let out a frustrated groan, his shoulders sagging even further under the weight of his troubles. "Everything's gone to hell today," he muttered, his voice tinged with exhaustion. "I can't seem to catch a break."

You listened patiently as he vented his frustrations, offering him a sympathetic ear as he unburdened himself of the events that had unfolded throughout the day. His words painted a picture of chaos and uncertainty, a world where everything seemed to be spiraling out of control.

With a heavy sigh, Frank finally paused, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of weariness and longing. "I just... I need to feel like I'm in control," he admitted, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine.

In that moment, you knew exactly what he needed—to let go of the burdens of the day and be comforted by you. With a gentle glint in your eyes, you reached for the buttons of his uniform coat, your fingers deftly working to release them one by one.

As his coat fell to the floor, revealing the holsters of his gun beneath, Frank pulled you close, his hands roaming over your body with a hunger that left you breathless. You stumbled against him, the heat of his touch searing through you like wildfire as he pressed his lips to yours in a fierce, desperate kiss.

As the passionate kiss finally broke, you took your husband's hand, leading him to the bedroom with a sense of purpose. Frank followed, his steps heavy with the weight of the day's burdens.

Entering the bedroom, Frank began the familiar ritual of putting away his weapons, his movements precise and practiced. The holsters of his gun were set aside with care, each motion a testament to his disciplined nature.

But as he turned to undo his tie and the buttons on his shirt, you sat on the bed, watching him with a mixture of admiration and longing. Frank noticed your gaze and paused, his brow furrowing with concern.

"What is it, darling?" he asked, his voice tinged with worry.

You shook your head, a playful smile playing on your lips. "Nothing, love," you reassured him. "Just enjoying the view."

Frank's expression softened, a hint of amusement flickering in his brown eyes. "Flatterer," he teased, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine.

As Frank continued to undress, you couldn't help but notice the frustration still lingering in his demeanor. His movements were stiff and mechanical, a stark contrast to the controlled precision he usually exhibited. It was clear that the events of the day had taken a toll on him, weighing heavily on his shoulders like an oppressive burden.

You watched him silently, your heart aching with the desire to ease his troubles and bring him the comfort he so desperately needed. But as he paused halfway through undoing his wristwatch, his gaze meeting yours with a hint of uncertainty, you realized that perhaps what he needed most was not your comfort, but your submission.

You stood up, approaching him with purpose in your stride. With a gentle touch, you reached out to caress his cheek, your fingers trailing lightly along his stubbled jawline. "Let me take care of you, Frank," you whispered, your voice a soothing melody that washed over him like a warm embrace.

Frank's brown eyes softened at your words, a flicker of vulnerability shining through the steely mask he wore. He nodded wordlessly, a silent acknowledgment of the trust you placed in him as he stepped back, allowing you to take the lead.

With a sense of purpose, you reached for the buttons of your own blouse, your movements deliberate and unhurried. Frank watched you intently, his gaze filled with a mixture of desire and anticipation as you revealed the curves of your body inch by inch.

As the fabric fell away, pooling at your feet in a heap of discarded clothing, you stood naked before him, your skin flushed with anticipation. Frank's eyes roamed hungrily over your exposed form, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he took in the sight of you.

With a seductive smile, you dropped to your knees before him, your hands trailing lightly along his thighs as you looked up at him with adoration. "I'm yours to command, Frank," you murmured, your voice a husky whisper that sent shivers down his spine.

Frank's chest swelled with pride at your submissive gesture, his arousal evident in the bulge that strained against the fabric of his trousers. With a confident smirk, he reached down to undo his belt, the sound of leather sliding through metal sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through you.

As his pants and underwear fell to the floor in a heap, Frank stepped out of them with practiced ease, his arousal standing proudly at attention. He approached you slowly, his eyes never leaving yours as he reached out to pinch one of your breasts, making you moan softly in response.

With a hungry glint in his eyes, Frank caressed himself lightly, the sight of your kneeling form before him sending a surge of desire coursing through his veins. "You look so beautiful like this, my love," he murmured, his voice a low growl that made your heart race.

But even as desire threatened to consume him, Frank remained in control, his gaze unwavering as he issued his command. "Open your mouth for me, darling," he ordered, his voice tinged with authority. "I want to fuck that pretty mouth of yours today."

Eager to please your authoritarian husband, you obeyed without hesitation, parting your lips to accommodate him. Frank's arousal throbbed with anticipation as he positioned himself before you, his hands gripping your hair firmly as he guided himself to your waiting mouth.

With a sense of reverence, you took him in, your lips wrapping around his length as you began to suckle gently. Frank groaned in pleasure, his hips rocking forward as he buried himself deeper in your mouth, the heat of your tongue sending bolts of ecstasy coursing through him.

Lost in the rhythm of your movements, Frank's control began to slip, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he surrendered to the pleasure you offered. But even as his arousal threatened to overwhelm him, he remained mindful of your boundaries, his touch gentle and considerate as he guided you with a firm hand.

"Tell me if you want me to stop, darling," Frank murmured between ragged breaths, his voice thick with desire. "Just give my thigh a little tap, and I'll pull back, okay?"

You nodded in understanding, the sound muffled by the thickness of him in your mouth. With each passing moment, you felt yourself growing more intoxicated by the taste of him, the heady scent of his arousal filling your senses until you were lost in a haze of desire.

As Frank's arousal reached its peak, he couldn't hold back any longer. The controlled, disciplined soldier he once was faded away, replaced by a primal, insatiable hunger that consumed him from within. With a low growl of desire, he began to thrust into your mouth with increasing urgency, his movements rough and relentless.

Each thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, the heady mix of pain and ecstasy driving you to new heights of arousal. Frank's grip on your hair tightened, his fingers digging into your scalp as he used you for his pleasure, his baritone voice a symphony of sinful promises that sent shivers down your spine.

"Such a good little cocksucker, aren't you?" Frank purred, his voice thick with lust as he rocked his hips against your mouth. "Taking me like the obedient little slut you are."

His words sent a surge of heat pooling between your thighs, your own arousal building with each passing moment. You moaned around him, the vibrations sending Frank over the edge as he let out a guttural groan of pleasure.

But just as he felt himself on the verge of climax, Frank forced himself to pull back, his hand gently urging you to release him from your mouth. He groaned in frustration as he watched you obey, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on his brow as he struggled to regain his composure.

"Fuck, my little slut," he gasped, his voice thick with desire. "You're incredible at that. But I'm craving something more. Turn around and grip the edge of the bed for me; I need to be inside you now."

You nodded obediently, eager to please your dominant husband as you reached out to grasp the edge of the bedframe. As Frank fell to his knees behind you, you couldn't help but protest about his knees, but before you could voice your concern, he silenced you with a sharp slap to your ass.

The sudden sting made you gasp in surprise, a mixture of pain and pleasure coursing through you as Frank's calloused hand connected with your flesh. He caressed the spot he hit, his touch both soothing and electrifying as he leaned in close to whisper in your ear.

"Don't worry about me, darling," Frank said, his voice dripping with authority. "I'm in control here, and I know exactly what I want."

With a sense of anticipation, you held onto the edge of the bed, your heart pounding in your chest as Frank's hands roamed over your body. His touch was electric, igniting a fire within you that burned hotter with each passing moment.

As Frank positioned himself behind you, you braced yourself for what was to come, your body trembling with excitement. But before you could prepare yourself, Frank slapped your ass again, making you cry out in surprise at the sudden blow.

"None of that, love," Frank chided, his voice firm but tinged with amusement. "You know better than to speak out of turn."

You bit your lip to stifle a whimper, your arousal building with each slap of Frank's hand against your flesh. Despite the sting of pain, you found yourself craving more, eager to surrender yourself completely to his dominant touch.

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Frank playfully tugged your hair and brought his mouth close to your ear. "You enjoy that, don't you, my dear?" he whispered huskily, his voice carrying a commanding tone.

You whimpered in response, your body trembling with desire as Frank's words sent shivers down your spine. "Yes, sir," you gasped, your voice thick with need. "I love it when you take control."

A satisfied smirk spread across Frank's lips as he leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. "Good," he whispered, his voice a husky rasp that made your pulse quicken. "Because tonight, I'm going to make you scream my name until you can't think of anything else."

With that, Frank's hand trailed down your spine, sending sparks of electricity dancing along your skin. You arched your back in anticipation, offering yourself up to him completely as he teased you with his touch.

As his fingers dipped lower, trailing along the curve of your ass, you couldn't help but moan in pleasure. Frank's touch was electric, igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you whole.

With a sense of purpose, Frank reached between your legs, his fingers finding your slick heat with ease. You gasped in pleasure as he teased your folds, his touch sending waves of ecstasy crashing over you.

"Look at you, so wet and ready for me," Frank murmured, his voice thick with desire. "You're going to take everything I give you, aren't you, my little whore?"

You nodded eagerly, your breath coming in ragged gasps as Frank's fingers delved deeper, exploring every inch of your trembling body. You were his to command, his to please, and you relished in the knowledge that he would take you to heights of pleasure you had never imagined possible.

As Frank's fingers teased your slick heat, you let out a low moan of pleasure, your body arching instinctively into his touch. The sensation was electric, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through you as he explored every inch of your trembling body.

"God, Frank," you gasped, your voice thick with desire. "Please, I need you."

Frank's brown eyes darkened with desire as he leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. "You're going to get everything you want, my little slut," he whispered, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine. "But you have to beg for it."

Without hesitation, you nodded eagerly, your arousal reaching a fever pitch as you pleaded with him. "Please, Frank," you whimpered, your voice desperate and needy. "I need you inside me, now."

A satisfied smirk spread across Frank's lips as he positioned himself behind you, his arousal pressing against your slick folds. "That's it, darling," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "Beg for my cock like the filthy whore you are."

With a sense of urgency, you pushed back against him, your body trembling with anticipation as you felt the tip of him teasing your entrance. "Please, Frank," you begged, your voice a desperate plea. "I need you to fuck me, now."

Without warning, Frank thrust into you with one swift motion, filling you completely as he buried himself deep inside your throbbing heat. You cried out in pleasure, your body trembling with ecstasy as he began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate.

"That's it, my dear" Frank growled, his voice thick with desire. "Take my cock like the filthy whore you are."

With each thrust, Frank's control slipped further, his movements growing faster and more desperate as he surrendered to the pleasure of being inside you. You met him thrust for thrust, your bodies moving in perfect harmony as you chased your release together.

"Fuck, Frank!" you moaned, your voice thick with desire. "I'm coming, I'm coming!"

The sound of your voice sent a jolt of arousal coursing through Frank's veins, his arousal peaking as he felt your walls clench around him in a tight embrace. With a primal growl, he thrust into you one final time, sending you both hurtling over the edge into a sea of ecstasy.

As the waves of pleasure washed over you, you cried out Frank's name like a prayer, your voice echoing in the stillness of the room. Frank's release followed soon after, his body trembling with the force of his climax as he emptied himself inside you with a guttural groan of satisfaction.

For a moment, the world fell away, leaving only the two of you entwined in a blissful embrace. With each ragged breath, you felt the weight of the day's burdens melt away, replaced by a sense of contentment and fulfillment that only Frank could provide.

After reaching the pinnacle of pleasure together, Frank withdrew from you, his body trembling with the remnants of his climax. Slowly, he stood up, feeling the ache in his knees that he chose to ignore for the moment. With a gentle tug, he pulled you to bed, wrapping you in his strong embrace.

As he held you close, Frank's chest swelled with a sense of gratitude and affection. "Thank you, my love," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "For giving me control today."

You smiled softly, running your fingers through his gray hair as you leaned in to press a tender kiss against his lips. "Anything for you, Frank," you whispered, your voice filled with love and devotion. "You know I'll always give you whatever you want."

Frank's brown eyes twinkled with amusement as he pulled back to gaze at you, a playful glint dancing in his eyes. "Well, my dear, in that case, get ready for the next round," he teased, a smirk playing on his lips.

You chuckled, a mischievous twinkle in your eyes as you playfully pushed him. "Oh, I'm always ready," you replied, your voice laced with anticipation. "But are you up for it, old man?"

Frank feigned exasperation, shaking his head with mock indignation. "Ah, the audacity of a woman," he exclaimed, his baritone voice filled with amusement. "Give me a minute, or perhaps ten. The refractory period is shit at my age."

You grinned, leaning in to kiss him once more. "I know, darling," you said softly, stroking his chin affectionately. "But I miss the times when we were young and had sex all night."

Frank's smile softened, a hint of nostalgia flickering in his brown eyes as he pulled you closer to him. "Those were the days, weren't they?" he murmured, his voice tinged with longing. "But even now, with age catching up to us, I wouldn't trade this moment for anything in the world."

You snuggled against him, feeling the warmth of his embrace enveloping you like a cocoon. "Me neither, Frank," you whispered, pressing a tender kiss against his cheek. "As long as I have you by my side, I have everything I need."

Your words trailed off as Frank's stomach let out a loud growl, prompting a blush to spread across his cheeks. He chuckled softly, a hint of embarrassment coloring his expression as he realized his hunger. "I guess I've worked up an appetite," he said sheepishly, his deep voice tinged with amusement.

You smiled warmly at him, the affection in your gaze evident as you got out of bed and wrapped yourself in a cozy robe. "Don't worry, darling," you reassured him, your voice gentle and soothing. "I'll have dinner ready for you in no time."

Frank nodded gratefully, feeling a sense of comfort wash over him as you took charge of the situation. With a contented sigh, he settled back into bed, the soft sheets enveloping him like a warm embrace.

As you left the bedroom to prepare dinner, Frank couldn't help but admire the way you effortlessly took care of him. Your love and devotion were evident in every gesture, and he felt a surge of gratitude for having you by his side.

With a sense of purpose, Frank made his way to the bathroom, his steps heavy with exhaustion. The warm water of the shower beckoned to him, offering a brief respite from the stresses of the day.

As he stepped into the shower, the hot water cascading over his weary body, Frank felt the tension begin to melt away. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to bask in the warmth and comfort of the moment, relishing the sensation of being cleansed both physically and mentally.

With practiced efficiency, Frank washed away the grime of the day, the steam of the shower enveloping him like a soothing blanket. The rhythmic sound of the water against the tiles echoed in the small space, a steady cadence that matched the beat of his heart.

As he lathered soap over his body, Frank couldn't help but reflect on the events of the day. It had been a challenging one, filled with difficult decisions and unexpected obstacles. But in the midst of it all, he found solace in the knowledge that he had you waiting for him at home, ready to offer him the love and support he so desperately needed.

With a sense of determination, Frank resolved to leave the worries of the day behind him, focusing instead on the simple pleasure of being present in the moment. The warm water of the shower was a soothing balm to his weary soul, washing away the remnants of stress and tension until all that remained was a sense of peace and contentment.

After thoroughly enjoying the rejuvenating shower, Frank emerged from the bathroom feeling refreshed and revitalized. He quickly dried himself off and dressed in fresh clothes, the weight of the day's burdens lifting from his shoulders with each passing moment.

As he made his way to the kitchen, the tantalizing aroma of dinner wafted through the air, filling him with anticipation. He found you standing by the stove, a look of concentration on your face as you put the finishing touches on the meal.

"Smells amazing," Frank commented, his voice filled with appreciation as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek.

You chuckled softly, leaning into his embrace as you stirred the pot on the stove. "I'm glad you think so, darling," you replied, your voice warm and affectionate. "I made your favorite."

Frank's eyes sparkled with delight as he caught sight of the meal you had prepared. "You spoil me," he teased, a hint of mischief in his voice as he took a seat at the table.

You smiled fondly at him, the love in your gaze shining brightly as you served him a generous portion of the delicious meal. "You deserve it," you said softly, your voice filled with sincerity. "After the day you've had, you deserve a little pampering."

Frank's heart swelled with gratitude as he took a bite of the food, savoring the familiar flavors that reminded him of home. With each mouthful, he felt a sense of warmth and comfort wash over him, filling him with a sense of contentment that he hadn't felt in days.

As you watched him eat, a sense of satisfaction filled you, knowing that you had brought him the comfort and nourishment he so desperately needed. In that moment, there was no greater joy than seeing him happy and at ease, his troubles forgotten in the simple pleasure of a home-cooked meal and the warmth of your love.

#frank benson #frank benson x reader #alan rickman #alan rickman x reader

[the-eldritch-it-gay]

Majexatli as a Companion

[Part 1/?]

[Questions from here]

Where can your Tav be recruited?

Majexatli can be recruited in Act 1. They are found on the Risen Road, by the hyenas. When approaching for the first time, a cutscene will play, in which the player sees a dire coyote eating one of the hyenas and being attacked by gnolls. The dire coyote races after the gnolls beyond the trees and out of sight, allowing the player to investigate the dead and dying hyenas on the road. 

After the player begins combat with the hyenas, Majexatli will join initiative, rushing into combat to assist the players from where the dire coyote has disappeared. Once combat ends, Majexatli will introduce themselves and their tadpole will connect with the players, indicating that they too were on the Nautiloid.

Your tadpole squirms in recognition, their fragmented memories becoming your own. Flashes of verdant forests, vast grasslands, kneeling before a gathering of druidic elders, wandering overgrown paths, the title of Faithwarden. With each flash, however, an undercurrent of hunger, growing in intensity with each passing memory until it erupts into something blood-red and razor-sharp.

The Dark Urge will get a unique dialogue option here, relating to the bloodlust in Majexatli’s memories. Druids will also get a unique dialogue with an insight check where they can mentally speculate on Majexatli’s druidic background and note that Majexatli’s druidic armor is very different from most druids. Druid players will also recognize the title of Faithwarden and note the high honor of the title. Rangers can notice that their armor and clothing seem more reminiscent of a ranger than a druid. Clerics can notice their lack of a holy or druidic symbol.

Majexatli will offer their assistance to the player, saying that they are an accomplished druid and alchemist and that they can help navigate the area.

If allowed, Majexatli will either join the player's active party if there’s room, or be told to head to the player’s camp.

Does your Tav have any comments or advice when you recruit other companions?

I can't imagine Majexatli being recruited before some of the origin companions, but I've included everyone anyways for the fun of it.

About Wyll: The Blade of Frontiers... I haven't actually heard of him, I'm afraid. He seems a good man, though, and rather charming...

About Karlach: It's nice to have another tiefling in camp. I imagine she's one hell of a fighter, too, anyone who's lived in the hells has to be.

About Astarion: Hm. I'd keep an eye on the pale one.

About Shadowheart: If I've learned anything during my years, it's that you should always have a healer with you, regardless of whatever they have going on. Shadowheart will be important if we want to stay alive.

About Lae'zel: Lae'zel is quite the warrior, it's wise to have her around. I don't know much about her people, but if she says she knows the cure for our parasites, I'm willing to follow her lead.

About Gale: Stranger as it is, I've never met a wizard. Gale seems quite knowledgeable. He's kind of everything I imagined a wizard would be like, if I'm honest. Very... wizardly.

About Halsin: (sighs) I suppose it's good for Halsin to finally join us, given how long he's been in our camp.

About Minthara: I think it's good to have Minthara with us, as long as she stays on our side that is. I might not agree with everything she says, but she's quite impressive in battle.

About Jaheira: Hm. Another druid.

What sort of general actions raise or lower their approval?

Raise approval: helping people in need, killing people who are abusing power/authority, respecting nature, some violence, survival skills (foraging, gathering plants, gathering loot from killed beasts) being kind to children

Lower approval: senseless cruelty, delighting in the suffering of others, expressing disgust for monsters, abusing authority/power, taking advantage of innocent people, neutrality, maintaining balance or status quo

#eldritch it speaks #salam plays bg3 #oc: majexatli #long post

[licorice-lips]

Hi, everyone! So, I know there's a lot of controversy about Rhys's behavior Under the Mountain (at least in Brazil fandom it's a hot topic), a discussion that is valid and definitely needs to be had, so I did a lot of research on the subject and compiled the three texts that influenced me the most into a compilation that I'll share here — along with my thoughts and additions.

These texts that serve as my supports were made here on Tumblr and can be found under the following titles, although the third one is the most comprehensive of them all:

*Rhysand's Defense Post (The author had only read A Court of Thorns and Roses when she wrote this).

*The Difference Between Tamlin and Rhysand: The Man on the Throne and the Man in the Arena — Acotar and Acomaf's Excerpt Analysis (The author was following the small teaser quotes for A Court of Mist and Fury and analyzed them).

*Understanding Tamlin and Rhysand — A Post-Acomaf Reconciliation of Rhys's Actions Under The Mountain in a Culture of Defeat.

In addition to discussing Rhys's behavior, however, I'm also going to discuss Tamlin's behavior and compare the two. It's going to be quite fun… Just a heads up that I don't want any hate messages. Do you want to share your thoughts agreeing or disagreeing? That's fine, but with respect. Any offensive comments will be deleted.

Now here's my defense post for Rhys:

Leadership is a heavy burden. When you're a leader, especially when it's not your choice but comes to you because of the family you were born into, for example, responsibility can be a burden. But when you're a leader, there's something very important to consider when making a decision: those who follow you.

All of Rhys's actions as High Lord of the Night Court must be thought of to put the well-being of those he is responsible for first. And when he, Tamlin, and the other High Lords are Under the Mountain, he decides that he will be Amarantha's whore to ensure that his Court is in the best possible condition within the situation — he lets himself be raped to ensure that his people and his family remain safe when he could have done nothing.

But from the moment Feyre strikes the deal with Amarantha, he is the only one who is truly in a position to make a difference: the other High Lords do not have enough of Amarantha's trust for her not to suspect anything if one of them tried to bargain with Feyre as Rhys did, for example. If any other High Lord — Kallias, Thesan, Helion, etc. — tried the same thing as Rhys, Amarantha would have been suspicious.

So in this case, he is the only one who can truly act.

But he doesn't have to. The point is that his Court is reasonably safe because of his role in the court Amarantha built, so Rhys doesn't really need to help Feyre win. But he does it, not because he wants his power back, but because he's the kind of leader who will do everything achievable to change — for what he believes is the best — the lives of his people.

And I'll talk about how admirable that is later on when we're talking about the culture of war and defeat, and about Tamlin's behavior. So, he decides to act, and he tells Feyre in A Court of Mist and Fury:

"I decided at that moment that I would fight. And fight dirty, and kill and torture and manipulate, but fight. If there was any chance of freeing us from Amarantha, it was you." (A Court of Mist and Fury, page 550, Brazilian edition)

He knows, then, that the fight he would have to wage was not the beautiful, heroic, noble thing we're so used to seeing: Rhys knew that his actions to ensure victory — for Feyre and Prythian as a whole — would be horrible and would probably haunt him for the rest of his life. He knows that. And he doesn't excuse himself for a moment. He doesn't invent, he doesn't embellish, he doesn't paint himself as a hero. He knows he's not and he really isn't a hero.

A hero is someone who sacrifices themselves in a grand gesture to save the entire population, a true hero doesn't really sacrifice one person to save others. And while Rhys does have his own share of sacrifices, that doesn't excuse him from the horrible actions he took Under the Mountain:

So, the first part of his questionable behavior in Under the Mountain comes to light: the moment he twists Feyre's injured arm to convince her, to scare her enough to accept his bargain. This is a minor moment and my description alone makes it understandable: he does what he does to keep her alive and charges an insignificant price (which he planned to release her from later, as he himself says) to keep up appearances.

And Rhys needs to keep up appearances because his whole game to defeat Amarantha depends on how he appears to her and to other people: no one can notice while he moves the pieces on the board to bring the advantage to them. No one, not even Feyre, who is the "lamb to the slaughter," so to speak. And she can't know for several reasons:

Feyre is not in a mental condition to act and pretend to hate him as much as he needs her to pretend. So if she knew what he was doing, she would probably let something slip, or wouldn't be convincing enough, because honestly? Who could?

Rhys spent the last 50 years fighting alone and being surrounded by people who constantly despised him for being Amarantha's whore or for those who tried to ingratiate themselves with her through him, so he doesn't trust others easily, even though he was falling in love with Feyre, as he says in ACOMAF.

He couldn't trust that Feyre wouldn't trust others — Lucien and, therefore, Tamlin — with this knowledge. With their mutual hatred, they would surely end up messing things up.

Feyre was there to protect the High Lord who killed his mother and sister — and Rhys didn't know that Feyre didn't know the history behind his and Tamlin's relationship — so, in theory, it made sense that he wouldn't want to show his "true face" to her.

That's exactly what the book is about: like a retelling of Beauty and the Beast, the book is about how appearances deceive. If Feyre found out that Rhys is a decent person right away, it would be the same as throwing the whole intention of the story out the window.

So we have the second — and most controversial of all — point: the dance and the wine. I'm not going to mince words about this: It was sexual harassment. Period. But with this, Rhys manages to:

Get Feyre out of her cell, which is driving her crazy, as she says in this part: "I was alone, locked in silence — although the screams in the dungeon continued day and night. When they became unbearable and I couldn't ignore them, I looked at the eye in my palm." (A Court of Thorns and Roses, page 356, Brazilian Edition). And let's face it, anyone would go crazy in an environment like that.

Keep an eye on Feyre so that no one else could harm her — something he disguises with a comment about not liking others to touch what's his — and that's a curious thing because Feyre never expresses concerns about being abused by others after Rhys starts taking her to these parties (it's also interesting to note that despite the various traumas of what happened Under the Mountain, Feyre never showed any signs of trauma from sexual abuse, as far as I know — and again, not that this excuses Rhys, it's just a factor to point out that maybe she understood his game better than we did).

To leave Tamlin full of anger — which he claims is the main reason for all that theater during A Court of Thorns and Roses — so that he wouldn't hesitate if he had the slightest chance to kill Amarantha in the end or between challenges, no matter as long as he didn't hesitate. Because from Rhys's perspective, Tamlin is the noble golden prince who might spare Amarantha's life to demand some kind of trial or something. Which I consider he might have been dumb enough to do too.

Divert Amarantha's attention, as, thinking that Feyre was already humiliated and abused enough during those nights, she wouldn't give Feyre those ridiculous tasks anymore (like cleaning that filthy hall or collecting lentils from Rhys's fireplace). And if you reread ACOTAR, she really never gives those small tasks to Feyre again after that.

Send a message to those who could read, as Rhys himself says: he crowns Feyre every night, and for the cruel ones, this would be a subtle kind of mockery, but for those who could see beyond the evil, Rhys was declaring Feyre the champion of them all. He declared that he believed in her and in her potential to free them all.

Convince Amarantha that he's still playing on her side — a belief that was shaken by Rhys betting on Feyre in the first task and closing that bargain to heal her arm. This might be the most fundamental of all points: the one that allows the game to continue toward victory. He needs to prove to Amarantha that he's doing it for fun, out of cruelty, considering Feyre as the whore of the whore, someone lower than the lowest of courtesans. Thus, Rhys clears the way to act when the time is right.

By taking Feyre with him to those parties, he moved not one, but six pieces of the game to be in his favor. He killed six birds with one stone. Strategically, it's an incredible tactic, by the way. But morally, this act leaves something to be desired.

So why the wine and the dance? Because Rhysand plays with appearances. Everything in his game depends on it.

Feyre wouldn't play the whore of the whore while conscious, no one with a shred of self-respect would accept that without knowing the reason behind it, and Rhysand, for the reasons I mentioned, wouldn't tell her anything. So he makes her drink the wine to keep the whole purpose of that show and keeps her close to prevent her from being touched by anyone other than him.

But besides that, the wine is a form of escape, a way to forget about the horrors, as Feyre herself says at the end of the chapter where all this happens:

"[…] and I began to long for the moment when Rhysand would hand me the goblet of faerie wine and I could let loose for a few hours." (A Court of Thorns and Roses, page 381).

In fact, Rhys sees it this way: when he is forced to kill the High Lord of the Summer Court (not Tarquin, but his cousin from whom he "inherited" the title, Nostrus), he himself drinks the wine with Feyre — it's an escape from the character he so carefully plays because not even Rhys can bear everything without letting the facade fall, even if only a little.

Note: not that I'm saying this would be a healthy way to deal with all that trauma and accumulated stress, but considering the place they were in and the situation, perhaps it was the most… effective way.

I have to say, however, that all of this doesn't justify what he did: it was still sexual abuse and it's still very bad and very serious. However, I need to point out to you: what we do to survive often does not reflect what we would be in a normal situation (normal being their everyday life without Amarantha, in this case).

When we are confronted with a situation like this, where to survive we end up needing to do something horrible, many say they would never do and would take the noble path of dying before giving up their values and principles, which is great, it proves that you have a very good character. The problem is that Rhys doesn't have the choice to think only of himself and how much this abuse will cost his dignity and principles because every decision he makes affects his people.

So here's my question for you: could you love someone who chose to preserve you instead of saving thousands of innocent — children, women, and men — who are under their responsibility?

Because I couldn't love someone who did that. And that's how I make peace with what Rhys did to Feyre Under the Mountain: I couldn't love someone who condemned the world to save me from abuse that I know I can endure — even if it causes me terrible harm.

Of course, it's entirely valid if you decide not to forgive him for what he did, because, after all, it's a morally gray action when you consider the whole situation they were in and what Rhys did. So, no one is really wrong for not forgiving Rhys for what he did, but those who forgive him aren't wrong either. It's very important that we understand that.

Now, an argument that is often used and that annoys me every time I hear it is that Sarah "changed Rhys and Tamlin's personalities because of shipping", so she ignored everything Rhys did Under the Mountain to make him the hero just because fans liked him. There are so many things wrong with that that I don't even know where to begin, but let's analyze all of Tamlin's, Feyre's, and Rhys's behavior throughout the ACOTAR and ACOMAF stories and show why I know Sarah did absolutely everything with careful consideration:

There is a trait that is very striking in Tamlin from the beginning of the ACOMAF story and is especially explicit when Alis tells the whole story about Amarantha, Tamlin, and the curse, which is the fact that Tamlin can't deal with the consequences of his actions:

The first time he does this is at the beginning of the curse when he gives up sending his soldiers to die for him, thus Tamlin simply gives up not only freeing himself but all of Prythian, all the people who live there, and still condemns the human lands in the process. He only started sending the soldiers out of desperation after 46 years, look at Alis's speech:

"For two years, he sent them, day after day, needing to choose who crossed the wall. When there were only a dozen left, Tamlin was so devastated that he stopped. He canceled everything." (A Court of Thorns and Roses, page 294, Brazilian Edition).

The second time I can point out is Feyre herself (this because I'm ignoring the events during her stay in the Spring Court, as I don't remember what happened): he takes Feyre to Prythian with the intention of making her fall in love with him, but at the first glimpse of direct danger from Amarantha — in this case, the scene where Rhys makes him kneel — he sends her away.

He gives up saving Prythian because he can't stick to the decision to put Feyre in danger so that she could break the curse, so much so that he condemns himself for it, because Feyre only doesn't say that she loves him — and breaks the curse — precisely because she's leaving:

"— I love you. — He said, and stepped back. I should say — should say those words, but they got stuck in my throat because… Because of what he needed to face, because maybe he wouldn't find me again, despite the promise…" (A Court of Thorns and Roses, page 261, Brazilian Edition)

These are the main events, and perhaps I could list more for you if I reread A Court of Thorns and Roses. But what does this show us? That every time Tamlin makes a decision, he freezes and backs down at the first sign of an obstacle. He retreats and avoids anything that shakes him.

So it makes sense that Tamlin's reaction Under the Mountain is paralysis — a common behavior among leaders in times of war and defeat, by the way, which aligns not only with Tamlin's personality but also with the reaction of a true leader in such a situation.

Alright, let's stop there and go back in time to analyze Feyre's behavior:

Right from the start, we learn that, even being the youngest of three sisters, Feyre was the one who, when they were starving, took action and sought a solution, which shows us right away the kind of person Feyre is: she's the kind of person who acts when forced to face danger, whether it's something intangible, like death by starvation, or tangible, like Amarantha.

This is proven repeatedly throughout the books: when she seeks answers with the Suriel, when she tries to fight off the bastards who tried to rape her at Calanmai (because paralysis can also be a reaction to abuse of that kind), when she goes to Under the Mountain to fight for Tamlin without even hesitating, when she heals from the traumas of Under the Mountain as soon as she has something to focus on, something to dedicate herself to.

And this is one of the fundamental differences between Tamlin and Feyre: while he paralyzes, she acts, and whether we like it or not, differences create friction. Especially with what happened Under the Mountain because she and Tamlin were separated, and neither of them experienced trauma together. Paralysis generates a different trauma from the trauma of someone who is acting, so the end of their relationship begins when she goes to save him Under the Mountain — and Tamlin freezes.

Then we have Rhysand, who is exactly like Feyre: he acts when confronted with danger or defeat and has thousands of actions of his that exemplify this:

As soon as he becomes High Lord, he bans the wing clipping of Illyrian females regardless of the reaction of the Illyrian lords or what they thought about it. It's not that he doesn't care: Rhys, unlike Tamlin, is willing to pay the price that comes when a decision is made.

He becomes Amarantha's whore to protect his people from her getting too close to them. He doesn't care about the cost to himself simply because Rhys knows he's doing some good for his own people by letting himself be raped.

When he sees in Feyre the chance to do something to free all of Prythian, he goes all in knowing that that game would be total defeat or victory. He acts.

When Hybern starts threatening Prythian, he is willing to do whatever it takes — lose a potential friend, hand over the city he loved with all his heart to horrible women, give up his own life — so that they wouldn't fall into slavery again.

When the war comes anyway, he faces it head-on and uses every card he has to stop the King of Hybern: monsters of all kinds, all his power, his own life, and the truth about himself, about who he is.

And these are just a few examples. The fundamental difference between Tamlin and Rhys, just like between Tamlin and Feyre, is how they respond to situations and traumas.

Quoting Teddy Roosevelt (btw, this is a direct translation of the Portuguese version of the quote, so it can be different from the original):

"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat."

Feyre and Rhysand are the ones in the arena, they are the ones who fight to be able to act in the face of evil — Amarantha. And it's interesting to note that those who condemn Rhys for the dubious actions he took Under the Mountain never say anything about Feyre committing murder there as well, which is a crime as heinous (or at least should be when it comes to innocent people) as Rhys's.

I'll tell you why: when we're faced with a gray and complex character like Rhys — and we don't know his heart, instead we're "infected" with the main character's partial view — we tend to connect him directly with evil, instead of understanding that this character is neither wholly good nor bad. We forgive soldiers for killing people in a war — that's also a combat in Under the Mountain, so why can't we forgive both Rhys and Feyre?

We forgive Feyre because we know how sorry she is, we know her heart, and we love her. But Rhys? He's the High Lord of the Night Court — which alone triggers some unconscious alerts within us — and he's playing dirty, hiding, and being a horrible person, so why should he be forgiven?

That's what our brain unconsciously thinks sometimes, and it makes us judge some characters more severely. Understanding the duality and complexity of a character is not an easy task; it requires a lot of empathy and an open mind.

But why am I saying this? Because it's important to understand: Rhys and Feyre are extremely similar, and they understand each other at a fundamental level because of that. Tamlin, on the other hand, has a completely different personality. He's the one who freezes, who paralyzes.

Rhys and Feyre experience the trauma Under the Mountain together, so Feyre and Tamlin are separated, which, combined with the glaring difference between the two, makes it difficult — perhaps impossible — for them to heal together because, out of loyalty to the character's nature, Sarah can't make Tamlin talk about what's happening like Feyre needs.

Even after Under the Mountain, Tamlin's instinctive action is to freeze. So he doesn't talk about Feyre's nightmares, he pretends not to see her despair, he turns away from her need to talk about the subject — because looking at her trauma would be the same as acknowledging his own.

And he can't do that because it's part of his nature to freeze. But this isn't healthy, hence the explosions of anger, and hence he locks Feyre up the moment she tries to assert herself: these are the consequences of forcing someone who deals with PTSD by freezing to actually deal with their traumas (that and the fact that he's horrible).

I can understand that (not in his relationship with Feyre, I'm talking more generally here, about him as High Lord, he can rot otherwise) but I can't forgive it like I did with Rhys because, unlike the actions Rhys took, paralysis only allows evil to continue to grow and end up imprisoning us (this is, in fact, one of the reasons why Tamlin didn't try to fight like Rhys while Amarantha was killing Feyre: his lack of previous action left him unable to take action when it was time to "put up or shut up").

While Tamlin's paralysis pushes us down while doing us harm, Rhys's actions, as horrible as they may be, are done in the hope of something good, they're done to move us forward. I can forgive him because I'd rather be someone who does horrible things in the hope of creating something better than be someone who allows evil to continue to grow until it imprisons me.

It's that simple.

And Feyre is exactly that kind of person. She needs to act, she needs to talk about it to heal. She needs to have a purpose, not be coddled like Tamlin — and his trauma — wants her to be.

The relationship between her and Tamlin becomes abusive the moment he tries to stifle her feelings to maintain a state of paralysis. And that's something you'd expect from a character like Tamlin, that's how he was built. But this happens long before Under the Mountain: I remember that on the first day Feyre yields to the dresses Tamlin gave her in ACOTAR, I think it was the morning after Calanmai, she warns herself to be gentle, to be kind, when dealing with Tamlin and Lucien.

But after Under the Mountain, Feyre can no longer accept that her feelings be stifled simply because her traumas are consuming her from the inside out. So she fights back. And that's what completely ends their relationship.

But the point is: both Tamlin, Feyre, and Rhysand follow exactly the line of their personalities throughout the story. They are those kinds of people from start to finish. There's an evolution, of course, but it's an evolution of beliefs, opinions, and perceptions — their essences remain the same.

That's why Sarah is brilliant in these books: by being completely faithful to her characters' personalities, she created a story that discusses abusive relationships, the varied responses of certain types of people to trauma, and the various reactions of leaders in times of war and defeat.

But the point is: none of them were changed to fit a ship, simply because they weren't changed. All three of these characters act exactly the way they should within the limits of their own personalities.

Rhys is the High Lord who plays dirty to create a better world, and Tamlin is a leader who can't make a tough decision. And there's another fundamental difference between them:

While Rhys knows that, from time to time, he'll be forced to make decisions that will end up harming part of his people (and will choose the lesser of two evils), Tamlin still struggles with the enchanted vision of a superhero who saves everyone without exception. And when that doesn't happen — because it's never possible to save everyone no matter what you do — he prefers not to act.

I think the two things that illustrate very well the kind of person Rhys and Tamlin are is the Illyrian tradition of cutting the wings of their females and the Tribute:

Rhys risks a revolt to improve the lives of his people and sticks to that decision, willing to pay the price for it if the result is a better life for the Illyrian females, while Tamlin fails to abolish an extremely unnecessary tax because his inability to act makes him cling to archaic traditions like the Tribute.

So, yes, I forgive Rhys for what he did Under the Mountain, because I couldn't love someone who freezes and leaves me to die. I prefer to love someone who cares so deeply about something — a dream — that they're willing to fight and play dirty for it. And then go to battle to defend it.

Hope you enjoyed it! Feel free to point out points that I didn't comment on; I'll try to respond to everyone's comments!"

#acotar #rhysand #feyre archeron #feysand #rhys acotar #books #fantasy books #sjm #sarah j. maas #sarah j maas #cassian acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acomaf #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #tamlin #tamlin acotar #morrigan

[lieutenant-amuel]

Since I know you enjoy languages, what la gauges inspire the Marswickian phrases and language Freida and her family speak? Is it all a real language or do you mix it up?

I have a very interesting (no) story with Frida’s non-Avaloran origins that I probably already told everyone but I’ll share it again either way because I don’t want my answer to be too short ajdhfkkf.

For a long time I thought Maarswik was inspired by Scandinavian countries (Norway, Sweden, and Denmark). If you read WBTL since the beginning, you might remember her last name was Berg originally. Frida Berg. It honestly was a terrible choice because this is an extremely common last name, this is like Ivanov(a) in my own country, and it’s a bit boring. But I didn’t know what else to choose because I didn’t know the country Maarswik was based on.

But soon I faced another difficulty because I needed to name Frida’s parents and I didn’t know how because I didn’t know the freaking country. It was a moment when I had to take some action and so I asked Craig Gerber what country Maarswik was based on and he said Sint Maarten (yes, I talked to the Man himself and I still feel powerful for it even if I don’t use Twitter anymore)

But honestly his answer didn’t ease my pain because why the heck is King Lars literally one of the whitest character in the show if his kingdom is in the south

For this reason I divided Maarswik in two parts: the Northern Maarswik which would be located somewhere in the EverRealm equivalent of Europe (this is where Frida’s from) and the Southern Maarswik which would be located somewhere close to Avalor. I’m going to use these terms in my fic someday so this is just a warning because I don’t want to confuse anyone.

Anyway, they speak Dutch (and also English but I ignore it) in Sint Maarten, so I choose Dutch names for my Maarswikan characters. Those are Frida’s parents Hendrik and Cornelia Aakster, Frida’s uncle Karel Aakster, Frida’s friend Laurens de Wit, and another friend of Frida whom I haven’t introduced yet but her name is Willemijn Douwes. You should know it was painful as well because why nobody told me that it’s so difficult to find those names online.

Really, I even had to ask a Dutch person for help (and I’m still grateful, thank you again if you’re reading it <3) when I looked for the new surname for Frida and when I sent her the ones I liked she said that not all those surnames were Dutch and not all of them were even surnames and I just WHAT?!?! (read in the most squeaky and annoyed voice possible) why would people even put them in the list of Dutch surnames how can I trust anyone in the Internet 😭

Anyway, after this series of suffering I finally gave Frida a new surname and it’s Aakster. Frida Aakster.

And yes, I know that Frida is not the most common spelling of this name but she IS Frida. Not Freida, not Frieda, not Freda, not Friday, not Friaijdkfkda. I really suffered too much with her name to change anything again, so even if Frida looks weird for whatever reason, THIS is how her name is spelled. Blame her parents, not me (oh my goodness I’m now so tempted to write the whole scene when somebody asks how to spell Frida’s name, she says f r i d a, that person is like what the heck why, and she just shrugs ajhdnfj)

I think I made Frida use some Dutch phrases just once but maybe I’ll do it again. It’s fun and actually makes her sound like a foreigner which is kinda the effect I would like to achieve.

Anyway, to put my answer into several words: the language that inspires Maarswikan phrases is Dutch. One of these phrases is used in the 19th chapter (and I’ll probably replace it with another because I now realize it’s not fitting context wise x))

Another thing I would like to add is that Maarswik in my fic is inspired by the Netherlands, not Sint Maarten. If you remember the chapters A Trip to Maarswik and Gabe’s birthday, I already mentioned some Netherlands things there. Mostly food, but I’m going to add more in the future chapters since Frida is currently in Maarswik so if you see some unfamiliar words, they’re probably those Netherlands things ajhsnfj. And I also use Dutch honorifics such as Meneer and Mevrouw.

Yes, I know my interpretation is contrary to the canon but this is why I divided Maarswik in two parts. I do ruin canon but I ruin it with care.

Thank you for asking! And sorry for dropping so much unnecessary stuff you didn’t ask about ajhsnfk.

#Ask me anything #Was Born To Lead #Frida Aakster #Ajhdnfj sorry if I was a bit mean but this is not the first time I see Frida’s names misspelled #and this is a bit upsetting x) #And the same about the fic title #This is Was Born To Lead #Not Born To Lead #I know that ‘was’ implies the past tense #but I don’t think this is grammatically incorrect #so I’d appreciate if people used the same spellings/names as I the author use x) #I could escape so much pain if I made Frida from Satu as I originally planned #but heeey at least I have something to remember

[rogersstevie]

i absolutely get where that “all your fave fics were written by middle aged women” post is coming from wrt how women are treated in fandom as they age but like having followed a lot of the writers i was reading stories by back in the day ik for a fact that at the time most of my faves were written by ppl who were like 25 - 35 at the time lmao

#especially bc maybe not the original post but some of the comments were talking about older fandoms #and a lot of the things i like came into being in the last decade or so #also i do think people are in the habit of assuming only women write fanfiction which is not true #it might be MORE women than not who knows the demographics but like #idk i'm not assuming anything any which way about the things i read now bc most of the ones i used to follow #left fandom or got annoying to me #and now i find it's usually a mistake if i look at something on an author's blog or other account #like i was enjoying this one person's fics and they linked their youtube page and i saw the stupidest take for a video title #and i was like WELL YOU RUINED IT NOW #so it's best to just now know anything about these people for me #like god so many of the popular 1d writers back in like 2013 really got all high and mighty later on #so yeah idt i follow a single author i'm subscribed to on ao3 i just don't wanna see shitty opinions and ruin it #ANYWAY point is like yeah i get it but i think you could just say your faves are more likely to be written by adults #and even so like. y'all think teenagers can't do anything well which is weird and wrong but whatever

[littlelcvestory]

my brain is spinning with fanfic ideas but when i open the doc the blinking cursor taunts me

#yes this is about wesper #and the title will be from timeless from speak now #i cant write anything #help me #writer struggles #fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic authors

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

Wrt localization, I can understand wanting to change let's say a joke if the context of the joke would be lost on people due to play on the language. But when someone changes the content of a story and characterization to the point where it's a completely different experience and then they have the audacity to say "have respect for the localizers. You support gg" or some nonsense in response to criticism, it's really disingenuous.

Not sure if you saw when I mentioned it before, but yeah. There are times when they have to make cultural changes (Pokemon did it with food to make more sense to the western audience!), change jokes that won't land in translation, etc. Those are reasonable changes that have to be made or the audience will just be confused/uninterested/disconnected.

Sometimes there are also jokes that in different cultures would be deemed inappropriate (like the sex joke aimed at Edelgard in the middle of the night - that makes sense that it was removed because western culture would've been largely uncomfortable with it). Age differences also account for this, in that what's seen as appropriate to a teen audience in JP is not necessarily considered appropriate in the west.

My viewpoint toward localization is that it should only be that. Everything else should be a faithful translation as much as is able, i.e. doesn't alter the message given in the original script. It doesn't matter if the content is from Japan, if it's a JRPG or what have you. If it was of French origin, I'd still say the same thing: that the messages and narrative of the French originating story should be handled faithfully and should be telling the same story/characterizations/etc to all audiences in any location.

Obviously in translation you can't make everything one to one or the sentences would sound off and/or broken. That's why you reword things to have the sentences structurally accurate in the translated language. Doing that, however, should not involve changing the meaning behind the sentence or trying to sell a different narrative. Doing that becomes a different story, even if only in bits and pieces. When a story nudges really fuckin' hard trying to tell you something that's wrong is right or that something right is wrong, but that narrative is only added into a loc and didn't already exist, it's a disrespect toward the writers and their original intention.

Even if, yes, the writers were very bias toward Edelgard (which they were as that was, again, confirmed in an interview), it didn't come at the cost of other characters. It didn't come at the cost of Rhea being worse, Dimitri being worse, or Claude being worse. It didn't come at the cost of her allies all being disgusted by their enemies that they were invading. They loved Edelgard when they were writing her, but they didn't make that cloud how they treated other characters (and while yes, the Nabateans get largely ignored in favor of focusing on Edelgard and such, it's not at the cost of their characterization or to make them seem worse).

Even if the loc heaps praise upon praise toward Edelgard and that doesn't harm the original intent, it's what they do to other characters that disrespects the original content. It would be like if they took FE10/RD and had Ike (who was actually just and a good person) spouting nonsense about Micaiah that just wasn't true, hyping up his allies to kill her because she Must Die.

Personally, I'm no Micaiah fan. She was one of my most hated characters in the franchise until Edelgard (and Berandetta) showed up. I still am not fond of Micaiah and she's still pretty low on the rung for me. That said, I would not enjoy a narrative where Ike wrongfully labeled her and her allies and provided his people (and the Laguz Alliance by extension) a false narrative about her. If those things about her were true I wouldn't care, but they wouldn't be. Why does that not work for Ike? Because it's not who he is as a character to say those things, and thus if he did, it means something is off.

The original has some ??? points about Edelgard that favor her/lift her up, but again, it's not doing harm to other characters. Yeah, we get the whole "they are the enemy" stuff from her side, but like... that's the point. If you team up with her, you're on her side and are seeing the story through her perspective, which makes her enemies, well, the enemies. They're viewed in a bad light on that one route.

But when you actually come into contact with the characters in question? It's not as bad as she makes it out to be. She, as the protagonist of her own story, makes other named characters and their ways of living sound very bad because she views them negatively, but we don't actually see what she claims if we personally come into contact with those characters.

What the loc does is have her say those things, understandably from her side, but then trash the characters' very characterization and personality to match her and her/her allies' opinions of them. The characters reflect her views with no pushback whatsoever, when it should be that the pushback is how those characters she talks about behave.

There should be a dissonance between her thoughts about them and who they truly are. It should make you question, "is this really right?". You should feel bad when you kill genuinely good people (like Sylvain. You shouldn't feel like he's some trash scumbag, but feel upset about his death and find yourself questioning why he had to die - not cheering for his death).

Point being, the loc changed that stuff because ??? I guess they wanted Edelgard to shine at her very absolute brightest, and the only way to do that was to harp on all the characters who opposed her. I don't understand why they would do that tbh (like I know the intent, i.e. making her look good, but I don't know why they went to such lengths to vilify her enemies and not just say hey, maybe she's wrong about these people but I'm still going to fight for her, if fighting for her is what you decided to do. The one idea I have is the final paragraphs of this post).

It just makes it feel a lot like purist culture, where if you've sided with her than they can't possibly let her be actually bad and do bad things. You've sided with her, so she simply cannot be a villain! It makes the loc team seem afraid of a concept of siding with the villains, feeling the need to change it because it's BaD to play a game/route where you do that. It feels like it's portraying the idea that if you do bad things in a video game, you condone those bad things irl.

Whether that was their thought process or not, that's exactly what it comes off as, and that since they loved Edelgard they couldn't portray her poorly unless there was no other option. In the times they do finally portray her poorly via other characters, there's always pushback in some form, like someone defending her, giving her the benefit of the doubt after everything she'd already done and still intended to do, or being sad about fighting/killing her. In the original that was still there, but the loc just added to it - just by doing a whole lot of damage to other characters in the process.

Meanwhile with Rhea, there's always negative pushback. If she does something good, there's a negative thought following her good actions. Obviously there isn't space for that to happen literally every single time, but when possible it's there. Again, this is another thing the loc amped up, and I can only guess it's because she's the head of the Church (and churches are viewed as the enemy in most JPRGs) and the main person Edelgard opposes (with no acknowledgement from the loc team, about why that is, being a bad thing).

It's like, the one time there's a game where the Church isn't actually the enemy, they... made it so that the loc reflected that the Church is still actually the enemy. Churches being the enemy are so common that it was intentionally used in the original script as a red herring. You think they're gonna be the big bads because they always are in JRPGs.

The point of that was meant to fulfill itself as a red herring, making you focus on them and scrutinize everything they said and did even heavier than you would anyone else. It makes everything Edelgard does get swept under the rug and causes the player not to notice until it's fastballed at you. That's why you end up fighting her and not the Church except if you're specifically on her route.

That was lost in loc, of course, and it got so overwhelmingly popular in the west (which I do believe is a reason they did it to begin with, i.e. made the Church the baddies by western viewpoint because the west apparently eats that shit right up) that Hopes catered most strongly toward the western audience, making the Church the big bads (who... don't even do anything wrong whatsoever in this game and hardly even exist to do so, but I can only guess they got largely ignored because they were so hated, and less positive interaction with them meant less worry of killing innocent people/more not caring about them as the enemy) of two routes out of three; not because that was the original script's intent, but because they just went with what was popular even if it went against their home game's intention. I was pretty unsurprised to find out this went over very badly with JP players.

In other words the loc was so widely understood as the true canon/intent of the story (despite its vast and drastic changes) that Hopes was crafted around the loc more than it was the original script. The loc of Houses altered so much that it changed the perception of the audience consuming it, so whether the JP writers are aware that that's why the game was consumed the way it was or not, they just knew a chunk of the western audience loved Edelgard and hated Rhea.

When I play a game I want the same story and experience that everyone has playing it. I don't want to understand it differently than it's meant to be understood and was understood in the region it was created in. If it's a dark and mature themed game, it should stay that way. It western audiences can't handle that, then the game shouldn't be played by them whether it comes out in the west or not.

If you can't handle the content of a video game, you shouldn't play it, plain and simple. No amount of "oh but I like this portion of it!" changes the overall narrative that you can't handle and/or don't like (and you wouldn't know you like a part of it if you didn't play it at all, which you did play it despite knowing it's largely not for you. If you didn't know but play it and find out, you put it down and move on). The game's messages should not be altered to fit purists or baby the players. If it needs to be edited that strongly to work in the west, my feeling on it is that it should not be released in the west.

If it is released, the story should not be altered to baby its audience. If people do play it despite that and can't handle it, it's their responsibility to stop playing it and not bitch at the people who released it (in any region) or bitch at the loc team for not changing anything (i.e. bitching that the loc team didn't change creative aspects of the story to fulfill another region's agenda).

Why does that happen though? Capitalism, quite frankly. Companies prefer the money added to their coffers than to keep the originality of a creative piece of art. They'll follow any political agenda that's popular, any social media agenda that's popular, etc, even if it means changing creativity.

They want the most people possible to purchase it, so if more people will buy the product, even if it means sullying the creative work of the original writers, they'll do it. That may not be true worldwide, but it absolutely is with many western companies. If the narrative of a game doesn't fit what western culture agrees with, they'll change it to make it so that western culture agrees with it (re: the Church).

Localization shouldn't exist to change a work of art/to change any media form for the sake of just releasing it in another region for the profit, but it does happen; hence why I prefer translation to loc. Over the years I've grown to hate western localization more and more.

If localizers have to work that badly to change what already exists (including changing the intent of the creator(s)), I have zero respect for their "efforts" for trying to alter a story and possibly even pursue a particular agenda (because we play games to have fun and enjoy something, not to have irl agendas thrown back in our faces).

Translators who go through loops upon loops to make sure the story stays as intact as possible with only changes of necessity are the ones I respect. Translating things to keep the meaning of a story is a lot more difficult and trying than just going "well how about we just completely change this and then we don't even have to think about how to work it out".

Also, there's a difference between pursuing an agenda or writing something to fix a glaring issue like racism. If there are aspects of a media that got changed in the west to eliminate racism (which is often, especially in Japan from my understanding based on other media I consume, done because of ignorance and not genuinely harmful intent), that's understandable.

That alone shouldn't alter a whole story though, and if it has to because the racism or whatever it is is that bad, then the work should simply not be released in the west! Simple as that! If it's that bad, why support those things by changing them to sound nicer/better and let the original product still generate revenue?

Now, is all localization this bad? No. Is Houses' localization bad enough that it changed an entire region's perception on the contents of the game? Yes. That's a no no for me.

I respect localization that does its best to keep the same story and change what won't work in another region (including what may be deemed unacceptable in said region or really toes a line of general regional discomfort).

I do not respect localization that sticks in the team's own biases or tries to push any kind of agenda to appeal to certain people. If a piece of creative media is created without the intention to push any kind of agenda, it should remain that way and not suddenly have things added to it for that purpose.

I respect creative media. I don't respect capitalism and changing content to cater to a specific subset of an audience, including the staff's own.

#DCB Ask #my response to this isn't just about Houses (that's a chunk of it) but also about loc itself #if I ever made a book or even just an eBook that got translated #I would NOT want what happened to Houses happening to my writing #personally I'd just straight up ask it to be removed and unavailable in that region unless/until #the people behind translating/localizing it fixed it to fit the narrative I set for my /own/ writing #if there were consumers from another region who got a different story entirely from the region I released it in #there's something wrong that happened between regions and unfortunately most ppl don't realize that #most ppl will assume whatever is in the loc was the author's intent #which means anything that looks bad in that region now reflects on me as the author #and it's even worse if it causes controversy. for example like the stuff we get in Hopes #the amount of underlying racism. I haven't seen the entire JP script but like #at this point I don't know if my concerns should be aimed at the localizers or the original writers #I wouldn't want that for my own writing. I wouldn't want people questioning ME based on loc changes #when I view in depth how I feel abt smth I prefer to put myself in the situation #and figure out how I'd feel about it. that's why with Houses I don't find it acceptable #it's not something I'd want to happen to my own writing. look at how Edelgard is viewed now overall #she's the most controversial character surrounded by negativity that FE has ever seen #despite having a character borderline identical to her in the past in one of the most beloved and acclaimed titles #and most of that is... bc of the loc :(

[kideternity]

Nobody is allowed to have thoughts or opinions about Kraven or even like the topic of darker spider man stories except for me because all of you fuckers only know him/about it from like Kraven's last hunt and sucking JM DeMatteis' xenophobic dick and I've had it. How about you guys read literally any other spider man or Kraven comic before talking about how amazing it is when the entire concept relies so heavily on the idea that JM DeMatteis is an entitled piece of shit who genuinely believed he understood every single nuance of Russian identity and trauma because he read some fucking classic Russian literature (I am not making this up. You can read this on his blog from a post from years ago.) before proceeding to write Kraven in the absolute worst stereotyped way possible down to him thinking that SPIDER MAN is somehow responsible for not only his very upsetting family dysfunction but also for DESTROYING THE RUSSIAN EMPIRE??????? I could not be making this shit up. Like I know comic fans don’t give a shit about xenophobia ever even though it’s basically engrained into most American comics but come the fuck on man

Like block me i don’t care if seeing this upsets you but I'm tired of xenophobia in comics literally never being discussed / outright ignored usually in favour of making up shit about how well the white Americans are written LOL it feels like shit i'm gonna be honest!

#spider man #dinu yells into the void #xenophobia #xenophobia tw #THIS GOES INTO MAIN TAGS I DONT GIVE A FUCKKKK IM SICK OF IT ALL #rants #character hate #more so author hate but waves hand idk how to tag this #this isn’t about anyone specific by thr way. like im not trying to vague someone in particular. #and usually i dont tend to post like huge rant posts anymore on my tunglr #but i keep having to see ppl praise klh #and i cant handle it anymore #read any other fuking spiderman comic. #the core of kravens last hunt is xenophobia. #that’s it. #it doesn’t offer anything to it outside of that. there is actually no deep insights into peter or mj. #they’re just here to get traumatised whilst a russian man whose name is in the title #has to have his entire character destroyed #and made to revolve around a fucking american #like again block me i dont fucking care. im just upset. im tired of it. #i have to read comics that are the most xenophobic thing possible and where the author tells me to my fac #that i dont belong and that this was never written for me #and see it praised as groundbreaking. #also i swear to fucking god if any of you try to make jokes about this or change the topic you are not lasting to the end of this month

[lovelesslittleloser]

Somehow my brain made me google if there were any stories called ‘Bee-incarnation’, and when I found out there was something directly adjacent, obviously I started reading it immediately. I once again cannot remember what happened for my brain to conjure the thought, but then I suddenly said aloud ‘this is all so incredibly BEE-ZARRE’ and I laughed and then I noticed my laugh sounded kinda ‘ohoho’-esq so I repeated the laugh in order to sound more like some cliche villainess in anime and now I’m here.

Also here’s the thing you’re welcome

#I appreciate the author so much for making this work of art all for a pun #also what’s with bug-focused type shit and having a character with the name/title of capital m Mother? #bees #beeincarnation #bee-incarnation #beesekai #bee-sekai #puns #bee puns #so many bee puns #I’m on chapter 12 at the moment and I just wanna say that I’m very worried about my favorite character. lots of death flags #potential spoiler although I’m not entirely sure. character spoiler at least #I absolutely love Ben and if anything happens to him I will cry but I can *feel* the death flags #I hope I’m wrong #anyway back to bee puns #also want to mention that I said bee-zarre with the same inflection as the whole ‘aha’ thing from the life series. just a note #🐝

[ao3screenshotss]

#yknow i don’t actually remember anything about this fic but i remember the absolute happiness i felt reading it #title: #days of our lives #author: #setosdarkness #ao3 #ao3 funny #bungou stray dogs #nakajima atsushi #nakahara chuuya #dazai osamu #akutagawa ryuunosuke

[diseasedcube]

So I started reading To Be Devoured (I'm only halfway through tho)

This book is just testing me (in a good way)

The writing is so so so pretty and I know some people would say that it's awful, that it's purple prose or sth but I love it. The temptation to copy every single paragraph into my poetry hoard is simply too great

#rave ramblees #thank you Chloe for ... #well you didn't exactly recommend it to me or anything #you just kinda mentioned it #but when you mention a book title #followed by a long list of trigger warnings #that's when i know it's a good book for me #like oh wow animal cruelty and cannibalism SIGN ME UP #of course i had to be a silly goose and immediately read the spoilers #gfsfjk i always do this i always read past the spoiler warning #it's fine tho even if I know WHAT happens #it's still an Experience to read it in the book's style #oh actually now I'm just annoyed bc i used to try to write like this #and got tons of criticism for the purple prose #i LIKE making it sound pretty i don't care about proper narrative structure and dialogue #THIS author can get away with it and i LOVE it #purple prose is GOOD and UNDERAPPRECIATED

[thelibraryiscool]

One time Galya did a messy job on her homework: left an ink stain, made a mistake. Disappointed, she put everything she'd written in brackets and spelled out, in large letters: 'This is bad. I will write it again.' And carefully rewrote everything. The teacher crossed out the page in red pencil and failed the assignment. I noticed that after that Galya stopped trying to redo a carelessly completed piece of homework. [...] I could see: with every passing day Galya's love for school was dimming. And for me that was a very serious, very telling lesson. I understood: in front of me was a person. No matter that she was only seven years old -- I had to respect her. She felt everything, understood everything. Appreciated friendship and gentleness, would not forgive indifference and unfairness.

Frida Vigdorova, My Class (Diary of a Russian Schoolteacher) [Мой класс], 1949

Однажды Галя неаккуратно выполнила урок: посадила кляксу, сделала ошибку. Огорчённая, она всё написанное взяла в скобки и вывела крупными буквам��: «Это плохо. Напишу ещё». И аккуратно всё переписала. Учительница перечеркнула страницу красным карандашом и поставила под работой двойку. Я заметила, что с тех пор Галя больше уже не пыталась переделать небрежно выполненный урок. [...] я видела: с каждым днём в Гале угасает любовь к школе. И это был для меня очень серьёзный, очень наглядный урок. Я поняла: передо мной человек. Не важно, что ему только семь лет, — я должна уважать его. Он всё чувствует, всё понимает. Ценит привет и ласку, не прощает равнодушия и несправедливости.

#frida vigdorova #my class #i see why they chose that title in english #i think today i'd go for #diary of a soviet schoolteacher #bc she's that more than anything #anyhow. an author very dear to my heart #(though i hadn't read this book before only others) #and she cares so much about making education WORK for children #books #quote #allie reads #and apparently translates if need be

[quillyfied]

Me, reading fic titles: Red Skies At Night…ha, sailor’s delight…

The Shane Madej that lives in my head: Red skies at mornin’…oh, what a beautiful mornin’…

#cannot be even a little normal about anything ever #my apologies to the pirate fandom fic authors who use that title or anything close to it #I’m giggling about YouTube ghost hunters now