#and what about war and peace which i said i was gonna read!!!!!

[livingasaghost]

i'm stuck in a weird spot rn because i'm almost done with murderbot (!!) but then i have like a month of the year left to read 1500 pages (easy, i could do it in my sleep)...but do i keep down the sci-fi rabbit hole?? (becky chambers books won't come in for another month probably...but i could start annihilation...) do i do something drastic like............start war and peace on the off-chance i won't finish by jan 1????? do i do something even more drastic like...reread the brainrot books one more time???? (i've already read tsc twice this year but a third time can't hurt ya know? we probably won't get the golden raven until next year anywayyyy) ....and i still have to read graveyard shift and i gotta figure out what book(s) to bring with me when i have layovers to and from south dakota for christmas....and i need audios for work but i really wanna read ebooks again but i also need to edit photos so like i don't know if i actually have the patience for ebooks at the moment anyway....but laurent and damen........

[acitybythelightunited]

Mmmmmk… then do something about it instead of complaining about it on the internet accomplishing nothing but making clickbait companies rich over it trending. I’m getting really tired of this Hamas/Palestine spam from pornbots. Stop getting rich off people’s suffering and donate every fucking penny of that to aid the refugees over there you scumbag fucks. The only thing worse than wars are the soulless money bags that brand #blueandyellow everywhere for a year then leave the Ukraine in the dust when they find a new cash cow to exploit. A place that has been in 7 wars since the Holocaust that will never cease to stop fighting over religious territory and revenue over a super natural being they can’t even prove exists that murders and rapes children with their cultish buildings all over the planet. How about you stop fighting over a God that doesn’t even exist. We’re all just scientific matter no one understands the origin of. But God sure as Hell wouldn’t let priests molest and bury 6,000 children alive along Canada’s border if he even existed so shut the fuck up and just start being decent human beings. Start with that. And fuck billionaires. You greedy motherfuckers suck up all the world’s economic systems and then wonder where all your consumers went when they die of financial constraint YOU created for the whole globe with your greed. We don’t need a pissing contest to a trillion dollars, we need affordable living and vacations with the money you’re ciphoning up by inflating cost of living higher than minimum wage increase so that it changes nothing but poor people’s financial leashes and not your continual profits. Ban increasing cost of living and that will solve like 80% of the world’s problems. The point of raising wages to create comfortable living for ordinary citizens. We don’t care if you can’t afford 15 exotic cars instead of 12 while the working class ends up on the street over one missed paycheck. Fuck off. 🖕🏽

"Murdering 14,000 children is not 'Self-Defense'"

Poster spotted in Boston, Massachusetts

[urno1luv]

Loved the fanfic of Sub!Giselle! 💜

Can you make a part two author nim, but make it longer?? Pleasee??

But no pressure! Take your time and have a break author nim!! Love youu 💜🫶

i didn't expect so many ppl to see my work omg...🫣but ofc!! i think this might be the only sub idol thing i write bc it took so long to get out of that mindset myself😭😭hope u like this ♡

part 1 for anyone who missed it, but it's also a standalone so it doesn't matter which order u read it in <3

tags: this is actually a very cute fic if you ignore the sex, sub gigi, bratty gigi, sexually frustrated gigi, sex(🤩), pussy eating (both recieving), face sitting, gigi has pierced nipples, mommy kink, ass slapping (gigi recieving)

💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋

Living with your girlfriend was a test of patience you were constantly failing. It wasn’t just that she was bratty—it was the artistry behind her annoyance. She made being difficult seem like a sport, and you were her unlucky opponent. Gigi loved you very much, but sometimes you couldn't help but think she did this to rile you up on purpose. The reason for this? You would find out soon enough <33

"Can you not breathe so loud?" she asked one morning, flipping through her phone at the breakfast table.

You paused mid-chew, glaring at her. "I’m eating cereal."

"And I’m eating in peace—or I was," she snapped, taking a delicate sip of her iced Americano, which she’d made you buy because "I just can't function without caffeine."

She left dishes in the sink like a declaration of war. “I’m giving you a chance to prove your cleaning skills,” she said with a smirk when you confronted her, her lacy bra strap slipping down her pale shoulder. It was almost like she did that just for your attention...

“Giselle, you’re literally standing next to the dishwasher.”

“Yeah, but my nails are wet,” she whined, holding up perfectly dry, manicured fingers. “You’re welcome for the visual.”

And don’t get started on her shopping habits. Packages arrived daily, piling up at the door like a shrine to her online shopping addiction. One time, she ordered a $200 sweater and wore it ONCE.

“Why didn’t you return it if you didn’t like it?” you asked, baffled.

“Because the hassle is too much. I dont have time for that. Im a busy woman,” she purred, draped across the couch, in an inviting manner.

If you so much as hinted at getting frustrated, she doubled down. “Aww, is living with me too much for you?” she teased one night, stealing the last slice of pizza you’d specifically saved for yourself. “Poor thing.”

But the worst was how she always needed the last word. Arguments with her were unwinnable, because no matter what, she’d throw out a smug, “You’re just mad that I’m fucking right,” and leave the room, huffing.

Some days you wondered why you hadn’t packed your bags yet. But then she’d do something annoyingly cute, like poke her head into your room at 3 a.m., blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

“I can’t sleep. Wanna watch something?”

You sighed, and begrudgingly made space for your girlfriend. God, she knew how to make you stop being mad at her so easily, and all she had to do was flash a smile in your direction.

She removed her blanket to reveal a silky lingerie set, in a colour matching her beautiful hair. She crawled over to sit on your lap, her sultry gaze meeting your surprised one. "Put a show on already," she whined, "accidentally" grinding on you.

You realised just then, as you grabbed the remote that Giselle was frustrated because you didn't fuck her for 2 days (a new record for your little slut). Oh, you didn't realise how much fun u were gonna have with her <33

An hour passed, and you forgot just how annoying your girlfriend was. Only 15 minutes were spent watching the movie, the other 45 spent arguing with Aeri over the smallest stuff. How you sat, how your room looked, how bad the movie you chose was, and you've just about had it with her.

Your hand snaked up her back, as she yapped, and tightened, before flipping her over so that she was face down into the mattress. A small yelp was heard, but you didn't care. This brat was gonna pay.

Youre both in the middle of the bed, and you dragged Aeri by her hair so that she rested her head on the pillow instead. She moaned at the sharp pain in her scalp, the sound so lewd and pornographic. "Baby, if you wanted to get fucked so bad, just fucking ask, okay? Don't piss me off, I'm not a patient person," you snarled at her.

Her pussy clenched at your tone of voice, back arching into you. Within minutes, you had her ass up and her hands tied behind her back, with one of your hands roughly gripping her hip, holding her down, the other pushing her head down into the pillow as you thrust the dark strap inside of her dripping cunt. You slapped her ass a few times, the flesh jiggling, her guttural moans escaping her mouth. The muffled cries and moans sounded like music to your ears, bringing you both closer to your edge, but you weren't gonna let Giselle off. No, not yet.

You removed the strap and threw it aside, and she groaned loudly at the action. "What the fuck are you- a-ah.." You slapped her before she could even complain, and told her that if she doesn't make you cum in the next 5 minutes, she's not gonna cum at all tonight. The threat of Aeri's pleasure being taken away had her scrambling, her lips connecting to you clit, and the moans you were letting out had her encouraged.

"F- fuck... that's a good g-girl..." You gasped, pushing Gigi's head into your pussy. Hearing your praises got her dripping again, and she sighed into your cunt, the action bringing you closer and closer to your climax.

Your orgasm hit you like a freight train, and you screamed out loud, thighs closing like an oyster around your beloved pearl, Aeri, who whined as she tasted your sweet essence, pleased to have made her girl happy. "My turn, please, mommy? I've been s'good to you..." You obliged, already losing your anger.

"Come here, Gigi," you softly murmured, and she obeyed, eagerly pushing you down, her pussy hovering above your face. You wrapped your hands around her plush thighs, pulling her so that her full body weight rested on your face. She immediately started grinding, and you plunged your tongue into her, swirling inside of her warm, pussy.

While sucking on her clit, your reached up to twist her pierced nipples, and Giselle threw back her head, squealing, reaching her high withing seconds, squirting all over your face. "M-mommy.... h-hah..." Aeri's body twitched, and she slumped beside you, completely fucked out.

Shakily, you got up and started to run water in the bath, before coming back to nuzzle into her neck. Giselle reciprocated, her arms wrapping around you, holding you closer.

Although she could be too much, you wouldn't trade her for the world.

[crazylittlejester]

i don’t know if this is something Jojo is doing on purpose, or if it was an intentional detail but i grabbed and ran away with it, or if I’ve just completely read far to into things and entered the realm of just making shit up, but Warriors and his little crooked smile are so GODDAMN important to me and I am shaking him like a squeak toy (gently)

(big yap/analysis under the cut)

disclaimer, i just have a lot of thoughts, probably way too many thoughts, and 97% of them are about Wars so I might be insane, and what you’re about to read provided you’ve stuck around so far might be the equivalent of your high school english teacher yelling with tears in their eyes about how the curtains were blue to “symbolize her sadness”. also my apologies for weird spelling mistakes or oddly misspelled words, i am dyslexic 💔 but with that being said:

Warriors to me comes off as someone who’s constantly acting larger than life. He masks a LOT in front of the chain, he acts overdramatic and a bit ridiculous on purpose, and to an extent he just is a bit ridiculous, but his reactions to things are sometimes blow way out of proportion or are just larger than life in a comedic way where it just seems like he’s doing it intentionally. He comes across as a very extroverted, talkative person, and he seems like he’d honestly be a bit loud too (whether that’s who is REALLY is or what he’s REALLY like is a yap for another post). His (physical) image and the way his character/personality is perceived by others both seem like things that are not his CORE values or the things that mean the most to him, but they do seem to be at least a LITTLE bit important to him just based on how he presents himself and the way he acts. And to an extent, the whole thing with him caring so much about his looks is canon in LU, with that one sketch of him and Legend where he’s looking at his eye in a reflection of a shield and Legend says “alright break it up you two” being the first thing that comes to mind (which is in the post “Mirror Shield”, click the name for the link)

To me, from what I’ve seen and from my perspective, there are very few times we see an actual genuine smile from Warriors, and when we do it tends to be in moments where he’s not in the spotlight, he’s not trying to command the center of attention, and/or the focus is NOT on him. It tends to be moments where he just seems genuinely happy or at peace, and those seem pretty rare. He smiles a LOT, but the majority of his smiles seem big and flashy and performative, and not that that means he’s not happy AT ALL in any of those moments, but those smiles seem a lot more controlled and closely managed because he’s aware of the attention on him and therefore thinking about how he’s perceived. (I’ve made some posts in the past and I’ll probably make others in the future about how I think Warriors puts on this “Captain” or “Hero of Hyrule” persona because of how an entire war was started because a sorceress found him beautiful, and how he feels like him being just him isn’t really good enough for that and how he feels like he needs to fit in and look/act/seem like the legendary heroes he’s being compared to. He’s created this idea of what he COULD be and that’s what he presents to others, fake it till you make it and all that, but thats another yap for another day)

However there are these little moments where we see him smile, and the same one side of his mouth is pretty consistently always just a little bit higher no matter which way his head is facing (here’s a few examples):

@/linkeduniverse, from the 2023 monthly art, “January- Cold Sunrise”

@/linkeduniverse, both from “Dawn pt. 2”

And the thing that really started this whole headcanon of mine that his REAL smile is crooked was this specific part of Dawn pt. 2 where Warriors sees that Twilight is gonna be find for the first time after most likely worrying about him and being up all night:

That middle panel, to me at least, is probably the most genuine expression of a positive emotion we’ve seen from him this entire time. No one’s focus is on him, no one’s really looking at him, he doesn’t have the pressure of being the center of attention on him, and honestly even if that WERE the case, the genuine relief that hit him once he was Twilight was gonna be okay probably would’ve been enough to get a genuine smile out of him anyways. But the second he walks into the room officially, he kinda, for lack of a better way to put it, announces his presence and starts “acting” again (also from Dawn pt 2):

And while that same one side of his mouth does seem a bit higher and not very straight, it’s definitely more even than it was just five seconds previously

Now, acknowledging there is an art style, and that I also just might be insane, but Warriors’s smiles for the most part (when they seem controlled) appear to be a Lot straighter and more even to me than when it’s a more genuine moment and he doesn’t seem like he’s “acting” so much (and just a note: it certainly isn’t EVERY time, but in general, in moments like these his smile seems consistently straighter unless he’s just flat out smirking. and im not saying it’s PERFECTLY straight either, just noticeably more even). When he’s being more dramatic or intentionally obnoxious or the attention is on him, it really does feel like his smile is more controlled: here are just a few examples, obviously this isn’t every single time he’s smiled in all of LU

@/linkeduniverse, from “Swords”

@/linkeduniverse, from “Shady Escape pt 2”

@/linkeduniverse, from “Divine Dark Reflections pt. 8”

@/linkeduniverse, both from “Magic Sword”

am i looking too far into a little thing? probably. am i insane? yeah. but i just really love the idea that when Warriors is truly, genuinely happy, the part of himself that he tries to hide, the sweet and caring person he hides underneath all the dramatics, that true self he’s probably kept hidden away since the start of the war who’s been buried under insecurity and hidden because of the fear that who he is just isnt ENOUGH peaks through, and that person comes out through his happiness in the form of his smile. and yeah it does probably mean nothing and Jojo might not have done any of this on purpose, but i’m crazy, and Warriors’s crooked little smile is so so important to me *insert image of a guy crying face down on the floor because unfortunately i’ve hit the image limit*

[roseghoul26]

Part 1

Arthur Morgan x f!Reader

"'Do you love me?' You asked, voice barely louder than a whisper.

Arthur nodded, gazing at you like you hung the moon and the stars.

'Then say it. I promise you, nothing bad is gonna come from it.'"

Synopsis: A retelling of the mission "Blessed are the Peacemakers", where instead of Arthur getting kiddnapped, it's you.

Tags: fluff, friends to lovers, eventual smut, smut, torture, mentions of sexual assault, no actual SA, dutch is father figure, so is hosea, arthur morgan deserves everything, fem reader, afab!reader, she/her pronouns used for reader, not beta read

part 1 ❉ part 2 ❉ part 3 ❉ part 4

“C’mon, we’re heading out. And make sure you bring that rifle.”

Arthur’s voice caused you to look up from polishing said rifle, the freshly cleaned barrel glinting in the afternoon sun. Before you stood the cowboy, one hand resting casually on his gun belt, the other rubbing the back of his neck, a nervous habit of his. 

Narrowing your eyebrows, you stood, strapping the gun across your back. “You’re worried,” you stated, and you watched his movement halt. “Why?” 

“Dutch says… well how’d you know that? I ain’t even said anything yet.”

“You don’t need to say anything, cowboy. But that’s beside the point. Dutch says…?” You gestured for him to continue. 

You swore you heard him mutter something about you being a damn witch before he turned around, leading you to where the horses were hitched at the front of your camp. The new camp, Clemens Point, was starting to grow on you, even with all the bugs and coyotes around. The access to water was nice, and it was close enough to cities to not be a burden to go to, but far enough away from big populaces to live an outlaw lifestyle. As the two of you walked, Arthur began explaining the new plan that Dutch had roped you two into. 

“Pearson said he met some O’Driscolls, who claim Colm is willing to ‘negotiate peace’ with Dutch.” Arthur sounded as convinced as you felt.

“You’re kidding me.” 

“I swear to you. Don’t know what’s gonna come from it, but it’s a start.”

“You really believe Colm’ll just stop fighting Dutch?”

“Not really. But Micah got Dutch convinced he would, and crazier things have happened…” For the second time, you watched him rub the back of his neck. 

“You think it’s a trap, don’t you?” 

“I’d be a fool not to.”

By this time you had reached your horses, yours a large black and white war horse, his a brown Appaloosa.You went to go pick up your saddle which lay across the hitching post, but when your hands made contact with the leather, Arthur playfully swatted your hands away, picking the saddle up himself, heaving it up and over the horse with a light grunt. He had rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, allowing you to fully appreciate his muscular forearms as he lifted with ease.

“Hey-” you began, before getting silenced with a look from the cowboy. 

After quickly securing the saddle, he held out his hand expectantly, slightly tipping himself downward in a mock bow. A cheeky smirk adorned his face. “Your ride is ready, princess.”

“I ain’t no princess,” you scoffed, but you still took his hand gingerly, unable to stop a faint smile from growing on your own face, and you stepped into one of the stirrups, using Arthur's hand to help bring your body fully over the saddle. 

His hand still held yours as he responded. “No you ain’t,” his gaze, which was playful, turned into something fonder and gentler, a look you’ve seen him give you time and time again. “You’re something better.”

Leaning down until you were almost at eye level with him, you swore you felt him squeeze your hand ever so tighter, and you spoke low, slightly husky. “And what would that be, Arthur Morgan?”

His eyes widened, and you watched his eyes flick up and down your face, trying to determine if your flirtatious tone was a joke or not. A few seconds passed before he opened his mouth to respond. “You’re-”

“C’mon lovebirds! Hurry up!” Micah’s shouting broke whatever trance the two of you had been in, and you felt Arthur quickly drop your hand like it was scalding, stepping back to create an appropriate amount of space between the two of you. A light dusting of pink covered both of your faces, his blue eyes looking everywhere but you, and a quick scan of the camp told you that Micah wasn’t the only one watching the two of you: Javier and Charles shared a look, the hunter laughing gently as the other shook his head; Tilly and Mary-Beth were furiously whispering to each other, glancing over at the two of you every other second.

Clearing your throat, you straightened back up, urging your horse forward as Arthur mounted his, catching up to Micah and Dutch who sat waiting at the entrance to camp. A few seconds later you heard Arthur approach, settling at your right side. “Ready?” Dutch asked, turning and leaving once receiving nods from you and the others. Following suit with Dutch and Micah in the lead, you settled in for the ride. 

Glancing over to the cowboy to your right, you watched him chat with Dutch, not paying attention to the conversation as you took in the man who has plagued every thought in your brain for the last two years. It was no secret you were head-over-heels for Arthur; you had been for at least the past two years. The two of you had been friends for at least four years at this point, becoming close when you joined the gang after a partially-successful pickpocket attempt against Dutch (you had managed to snag his gold pocket watch, but were subsequently caught a few minutes later once he realized). Despite that, he had offered you a place with the gang. You accepted, partially because you needed money, a place to sleep, and could possibly make friends, but you also joined because you finally had a place to put your niche talents to use. 

Arthur and you became close quickly, and you worked together well, meaning you were often sent out together for jobs. It was a platonic relationship, but the two of you always danced the line of platonic and romantic, flirty remarks being tossed around wildly. It wasn’t until the last year or two where you felt yourself start to actually fall in love with the cowboy, and the flirting wasn’t helping. It was the age old tale of falling for your best friend, and feeling too afraid to say anything in case it wasn’t reciprocated, possibly ruining said friendship. 

It wasn’t hard to fall for him. For all the hard front he puts up, he has a kind heart, going out of his way to help folks (he usually preferred when a reward was offered, but would do things begrudgingly if none was presented). He was loyal, staying by Dutch’s side through thick and thin, and had humor drier than a desert. And he wasn’t bad on the eyes either, a thinker body built from years of labor, skin tanned and scars from years in the wild and sun. Eyes bluer than the ocean, you found yourself always drowning in their depths. 

You hadn’t realized you had been staring at him until you heard him say your name, slightly loud, as if he had been trying to get your attention for a bit. He laughed, “I asked, ‘he treating you well?’” 

When you gave him a confused look, he pointed downwards to your horse, which Arthur had bought for you a few weeks ago after your previous horse was shot by some Lemoyne Raiders. “He is,” you stroked his mane affectionately, earning you a content huff from the beast. “Thank you again, Arthur.”

“It’s nothing, really. You named him yet?”

“I have. You ever read Charles Dickens?” 

“Ain’t much of a reader,” he responded. 

“His name is Tiny Tim, from A Cristmas Carol. My mom would read it every year ‘round Christmas time.”

“Tiny Tim? There ain’t nothing tiny ‘bout that beast!”

“That’s what’s funny!” You laughed, and Arthur just shook his head, trying and failing to hide his own laughter. 

“Yer cute,” he said, nonchalantly, like he had no idea he was actually saying it. You just stared at him, caught off guard by his seemingly very genuine statement. Now it was his turn to be confused, and he cocked his head to side, glancing at you quizzically. 

Dutch’s voice had snapped your gazes back forward, meeting his eyes as he turned to talk. “You know, I’ve been fighting Colm for so long now… I can barely remember a time when it was different.”

The man to your right finally looked away from you, his expression harding as he responded. “And you’re still fighting him now, make no mistake of that.”

“Here he goes…” Micah began. “Doubting Thomas… is there any plan you ain’t sour on?”

“Maybe you’re right. I’m just nervous. Let’s not waste any more lives needlessly.”

“I ain’t costing lives here… I’m saving them. What did you say, we had Pinkertons coming after us?”

“Because of Blackwater,” you chimed in. 

Micah continued, “And Leviticus Cornwall and his private army! Then… who knows when this local hillbilly thing will come to a head, hm? Can we really afford to be fighting on all these fronts, and O’Driscoll?”

The group was silent for a moment, all chewing on the words spoken by the blonde man. 

“There is wisdom in that,” Dutch finally said. 

“For once,” you muttered, thinking you were unheard until you heard a chuckle from your right. 

“Oh, I hope so, gentlemen, but… like I said, I’m nervous.”

“Yeah, me too,” you added. “Feels too good to be true.”

Now it was Micah’s turn to shift around his saddle to face you. “Look, you ain’t even going to be the one in danger… we’ll get on over there… find a nice perch for you to settle your pretty self into… you got that rifle, don’t you?”

Choosing to ignore that one particular comment of his, you tapped the strap across the shoulder that held your rolling block rifle, one of your most prized possessions. “Never leave without it,” you said, failing to notice the way that Arthur glared daggers into Micah, who continued talking.

“Then me, Dutch, and Arthur walk right into the lion’s den, with you to cover us.”

“Just stay calm, unless I give you a reason not to,” you said, a growing tension building inside you.

Dutch gave you a reassuring smile.“Oh, we’ll be fine. We’ve got you.”

“I will do my best.”

“Oh, my dear, with you watching over me, I would walk into hell itself.”

“As would I,” Micah added. 

You weren’t doubtful of your abilities as a sharpshooter, but the praise coming from the man you respected, and Micah, helped bolster your confidence, and you felt yourself sitting up straighter as you rode. “You don’t need me to tell you how great you are,” Arthur said, pausing a moment before continuing. “But I’m gonna anyway. I would go anywhere if I knew you was watching over me.”

“Now y’all are putting too much pressure on me,” you joked, trying to clear the comforting ache in your chest from Arthur’s words. “Gonna give me performance anxiety.”

“Arthur knows a thing or two ‘bout that!” 

“Micah, I swear-” he growled, and you and Dutch shared glances before breaking into laughter, the tension building up with the upcoming meeting dissipating momentarily. 

The next few minutes of riding were in comfortable silence, before Micah halted suddenly as you reached the base of the hills, the rest of you skidding to a halt behind him. “Hey, up there, men on the ridge.” 

Glancing up, you indeed saw four men atop the ridge, all four on horses, looking down on your group. You watched Dutch place a hand on his gun, already ready for things to go wrong. “O’Driscolls, from the look of them.”

“I don’t like having eyes on us.” Arthur grumbled. 

“We’re close,” Micah pointed to you. “You’ll be the eyes soon enough.”

Nodding, you swung your rifle around so it sat in your hands. “Let’s go.”

The group started back up again, riding around and up the hill. That previously dissipated tension was back, and you saw the way that Arthur’s jaw clenched as he rode. “Maybe he’s right, Dutch. Maybe I have pushed too hard. Got us into situations that… could have been safer. I just… I see all these mouths we got to feed, and I… I dream too big. Caring too much, that’s my problem.”

“The hell you on about, Micah?” You asked, Arthur nodding in agreement. The men in front both ignored you.

“Caring too much?” Dutch scoffed. “There’s no such thing.”

After giving you a look that screamed confusion, Arthur exclaimed “This is horse shit. From both of you!”

“It might be! Micah might be full of shit. Colm O’Driscoll might be full of shit. The promise of this great nation, men create equal, liberty and justice for all… that might be nonsense too. But it’s worth trying for. It’s worth believing in. Can’t you see that, friend?”

“I don’t know.”

“Try. All I ask is you try.”

Finally reaching your destination, you all halted again, and you watched Micah turn around so he was face-to-face with you. “Alright, princess,” he looked directly at Arthur, jesting at the earlier interaction he interrupted, before looking back to you. “You’re gonna peel off up ahead. We’ll be meeting down on the plane. Find a spot just above us where you can keep an eye on things.”

“Alright, alright.” You responded, getting ready to leave before Arthur stopped you.

“However this shakes out, let’s aim to meet back at the fork in the road afterwards.”

“Got it. Behave yourselves, boys.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” you heard Dutch respond before him and Micah took off toward the plane. Again, you turned to leave, but you heard your name leave Arthur’s mouth. 

Glancing at him, you gave him an easy smile, before chuckling lightly. “Better get going cowboy. They’re gonna start without you.”

Your laugh died in your throat as you saw a rather serious Arthur before you, an almost desperate look in his eyes. “Be careful.” He inhaled shakily. “Please.”

“I- I will,” your answer sounded more like a question. “But it’s not me you should be worried about. I’m not going into the ‘lion’s den’, as Micah put it. I’ll be fine.”

“Just promise me if things go wrong, you’ll get the hell out of here.”

“You know I can’t promise that. But for you, I’ll certainly try.”

Knowing that was the best he was going to get from you, he just shook his head, and began to make his way toward the others. “I’ll see ya later, princess.” 

Turning so he couldn’t see your flustered state, you waved him away, laughing as you heard Micah shout hurry up, loverboy. Reaching the top of the hill, you dismounted, hitching your horse to a nearby dead tree, and as crouched at the edge, you watched through the scope of your rifle as the men waited for the O’Driscolls to arrive. 

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

You should’ve known something was wrong when you only saw three men on the plane. 

It wasn’t the fact that one of these men was Colm himself, nor was it the fact that each of these men were armed and dangerous, ready to fire at a single wrong move from Dutch. With you watching from above, and Micah and Arthur both backing Dutch from behind, you had no doubt which side would win in a shootout. 

No, it was the fact that you remembered there being four O’Driscolls waiting atop the hill as you all approached.

At the time, as you crouched on your perch, keeping eye on the “negotiation” happening between the two gangs, you hadn’t been worried, figuring they had a person on watch as well. You should’ve looked a little harder, could’ve scanned the nearby hills and see that the fourth O’Driscoll was nowhere to be found. Maybe if you’d have done this, you wouldn’t be hung upside down in Colm’s basement, a nasty gunshot wound in your left shoulder.

The footsteps had approached quickly, and the butt of the rifle was even quicker, striking you across the face with a sickening crack. Everything went black, and you barely remember waking up strung across the back of a horse for a few moments before falling back into unconsciousness. 

You remember waking up again, and you were able to escape for a moment before one O’Driscoll was able to get you with a rope, causing you to eat shit, your head slamming against the forest floor. They had laughed to each other, before one of them held their gun up to your shoulder, an agonizing blast and a flash of white light the last thing you saw before darkness took over again. 

Now here you were, strung upside down, the blood currently rushing to your brain making it pound harder. Everything hurts, the small puddle of blood beneath you indicative of the state of your body. You’d lost track of how long you’d been here; everything became a blur after the first day. 

Colm had yet to make an appearance, his men being the ones to torture you. It was the same few men each time. They alternated from keeping you upside down to having you tied down to a chair, to having you hanging by chains that pulled at your shoulder, aggravating your wounds even further. But they never asked many questions, instead finding their answers in their knives and pokers that they carved into your flesh.

Day after day you searched for means of escape, coming up fruitless each time; his men were surprisingly well trained, making sure to not leave anything in range of you that could be used as a tool or weapon. 

However, they wanted you alive, for whatever reason. Crude first aid had been applied to your wounds, preventing infection and disease from killing you off, but the one at your shoulder continued to be the worse. Occasionally they would give you water and stale food, messily hand fed by one of the men. Despite that, every time you heard the cellar door open, you waited with bated breath for the final blow, but it never came.

The cellar they kept you in was small, musty, and lit by a single candle on a table to your right, just out of reach from where you hung. A few scraps of cloth lay on the table, covered in crimson, and a single chair sat tucked in the corner, also covered in blood. 

Trying to find any sort of comfort, you tried sitting up a bit, your abs screaming out as you managed to lift yourself up a few inches, and some of the blood returned to the rest of your body. Dizzy, you shut your eyes, letting yourself flop back down, the chains creaking above you. 

The chains were so loud that you almost failed to hear the squeak of the cellar doors opening, heavy footsteps coming closer and closer to you. Opening one of your eyes, you saw an unfamiliar silhouette approaching, until you heard him speak your name. “It’s good to see ya.” He said, stepping fully into the cellar, the candlelight allowing you to see him fully.

“Hello, Colm,” your voice was hoarse from screaming, and you watched the greasy man step closer, a plate of food in one hand, some kind of utensil in the other. Finally opening both eyes, you  watched him place his things down on the table, the clatter of the plate barely audible over your own heartbeat. You must’ve blacked out for a moment, because before you knew it a bolt of pain tore through your body and you cried out, Colm stepping back from you after pressing his hand hard into your shoulder. 

He sneered down at you, grimy yellow teeth flashing. “How’s the wound?”

Gritting your teeth, you stared down the leader of the O’Driscolls with as much venom as you could muster, willing back the tears of pain. “Can’t feel it.”

“Whatever makes ya feel better,” he stalked over to his food, turning his back to you as he ate. “ Now, tell me…” he spoke through mouthfuls of food, “fine gun like you… why you still running around with old Dutch? Could come ride with me and make real money.”

“You know it ain’t about the money, Colm.”

“That’s right… it’s Dutch’s famous charisma.” In a blur of movement, his food forgotten, he kicked you square in the chest, knocking the wind out of you. Your body swung from the chains, which groaned and creaked at the movement. All you could let out was a soft wheeze, your vision going double. “You killed a whole punch of my boys… at Six Point Cabin.”

So why haven’t you killed me yet? You smirked, at least the best you could, your teeth stained red, lip splitting. “One of your own took us there. Bastards had it comin’.”

The click of a gun and the feeling of cold metal against your head made your wish you kept your mouth shut. The final blow was coming at the hands of Colm. Trying to swallow, your throat too dry to do so, you put on a brave face, even though internally you were terrified. There was so much you had left to do, so much left to tell. This wasn’t where your story ended, right?

Closing your eyes, you tried to take deep breaths, fighting down the panic bubbling inside. Do not show him you’re afraid, you thought. Don’t give him the satisfaction of you being afraid in your last moments. 

And you waited.

And waited.

You waited until you felt the barrel of the gun slowly pull away, and your eyes shot open, confused. “Yer lucky I need you alive,” Colm snarled, striking you across the face before returning his pistol to its holster, running a hand over his face while circling your body like a vulture. “Law want’s ya alive. All of ya.”

“Best of luck with that, sayin’ you only got one of us.”

“For now.”

“You planning on raiding us?” Colm didn’t respond. “You can tell me. Not leaving here soon anyway.”

“Nah,” Colm began. “Ain’t gotta go to that much trouble to round you up. We lure an angry Arthur in to rescue ya… Dutch and the others following… and  grab all of ya and hand ya in… then disappear.”

“So you only met with them to grab me?”

“Of course…” Colm chuckled. “He’s gonna be so mad. He gonna come raging over here… and a whole lot of ya… and the law’ll be waiting for him.” Sighing, he crouched down before you, his rancid breath overwhelming your senses. “Oh, I missed you.”

The first strike went to your gut. 

The second went to your bad shoulder. 

The third and final strike landed at your nose, blood spraying from the impact. 

Groaning, you felt the warm liquid streaming from your nose, joining the puddle beneath you with a soft drip, drip, drip. Colm stood up, grabbing his plate with a huff, shaking out one of hands, his knuckles slightly busted from the strikes. He didn’t say anything as he left, stomping up the stairs loudly, the door slamming shut behind him.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, a newfound sense of urgency to escape coming over you, needing to stop Colm’s plan from coming to fruition. Glancing around, you looked again for something to help you escape. Unlike all the other times, however, something caught your eye on the table; whatever utensil Colm had brought down sat there, glinting gently in the light. Luckily for you, it seemed like Colm wasn’t as well trained as his men.

Slowly, you began to rock yourself back and forth, trying to build up enough momentum to reach it. Holding back noises of pain, you rocked, getting closer and closer with every swing, your fingers straining and you reached, and stretched, until finally it was in your grasp. You nearly cried with relief, and after glancing at the utensil in your hand, which was a two-pronged fork, you ceased your swinging, eventually coming to a full stop. 

Hands shaking, using whatever scrap of strength you had left in your hands, you bent on of the prongs forward, creating a lockpick like instrument. Now it was time for the hard part, which was trying to reach the padlock that held the shackles around your feet, connecting you to the chains. 

Every muscle in your body was begging you to stop, shaking as you slowly started to sit up, your core working overtime to get you up. All you had to do was just reach and disengage the lock. It took a few tries until you were finally able to get it in, and then-

Click. 

You didn’t have any tie to brace yourself before you made contact with the floor, going face first into your own blood pool. Rolling on to your back, you let the world stop spinning before sitting up, glancing worriedly at the cellar door to see if anyone heard your commotion.

After no one barged in after a few moments, you began to stand up, your knees giving out as soon as you were upright. Stumbling, you practically fell into the table, nearly knocking over the candle in the process. Your arms were outstretched in front of you, bracing yourself against the table, and you saw a few droplets of blood from your nose hit the wood. Grimacing, you snatched a bloodied cloth from nearby, tearing a small amount off to block off the blood flow. 

It was at this point that you really started feeling the gunshot wound in your shoulder. After a quick assessment, you realized it was still an open wound, but it was a clean shot, meaning you wouldn’t have to dig the bullet out of you. Eying both the metal fork in your hand and the candle on the table, you mentally steeled yourself for what you were about to do. 

Dragging the chair up next to you and sitting, you heated up the metal instrument until it almost glowed, then before you could lose your nerve, you pressed it to the wound.

It wasn’t the pain that hit you first; it was the smell, which would forever be engraved in your mind. But after you clocked the smell, the pain hit you like a tidal wave. You couldn’t tell if you were screaming or not, but you continued to hold the device, waiting until you couldn’t see blood spurt out at every beat of your heart. 

Groaning, you slumped your head on the table, feeling exhausted after putting yourself through that, but you had only a few seconds to recover before you heard the door open again. Turns out your cries were very much audible. 

Pressing yourself against the wall, you heard someone begin to come down the stairs. “Hold on, I’ll be back in a minute,” you heard the stranger say. You recognized the voice; it was one of the torturers. 

The man stood at the base of the stairs, dumbfounded, as he took in the empty shackles before him. “What the hell-” That was all he was able to get out before you pounced, the tool finding a home in his throat, and he crumpled to the floor, a small gurgling leaving him before he stilled. The man, unfortunately, was only armed with a knife, which you grabbed, holding it out defensively in front of you as you climbed the stairs. You had to move; it wouldn’t be long until his friends started looking for him. 

You had almost reached the exit before two shadows approaching halted your movement, and you pressed yourself against the wall, trying to make yourself as small as possible. Two men approached, neither of which you recognized. They were chatting as they patrolled, not really paying attention to their surroundings as they patrolled. A few tense minutes later, the figures retreated, and you dashed out as quickly as you could.

Taking in a breath of fresh air, you took in your surroundings: the two guards were to your left, their backs to you; a small shack was in front of you, and you saw some guns lying out; to your right you saw a horse hitching post, and you thanked the unseen forces of the universe that your horse was here; surrounding you were multiple houses, all you presumed were filled with O’Driscolls. 

First, you needed a weapon. Then, you were getting the hell out of here.

Moving as quietly and quickly as you could, you kept low, keeping an eye out for any other O’Driscolls. Entering the small wood shack, you grabbed the first gun you saw, and you almost left before you saw a very familiar engraved barrel out the corner of your eye. There, sitting in a wooden crate were your weapons, including your prized rifle. 

Swinging it over your shoulder, and securing your gun belt across your waist, you were actually starting to feel hopeful about your chances of survival. Keeping your stolen knife and your pistol out, you poked your head out the door, looking for any guards before taking off toward your horse, still trying to keep hidden.

Once you were close to the horses, you made your presence known, not wanting to spook them. Approaching your mount, you muttered softly, rubbing his neck affectionately. Immediately his eyes flew open, and he began rearing until he realized it was just you.

“You have no idea how good it is to see you, boy.”

Something told you he felt the same. 

“Let’s go home.”

You were partially up your horse when you heard a commotion behind you. Whipping your head around, you saw a few O’Driscolls emerge from the various houses, guns out and pointed at you, shouting at you and each other. You had just managed to get on before the shots started going off, bullets whizzing past you as Tiny Tim took off like a bat out of hell, hooves barely hitting the ground as you soared across the plane. 

You could barely make out anything around you, everything a blur as the wind whipped across your battered body, relishing the feel of fresh air before hearing footsteps behind you. Glancing behind, you saw four O’Driscolls in pursuit, firing wildly in an attempt to stop you. 

Aiming behind you, you took a deep breath in, stilling yourself to the best of your ability, taking in each of your targets before squeezing the trigger.

In rapid succession, each man took a bullet to the chest, either stopping them or causing them to go flying off their horse. Within moments your pursuers were gone, leaving only you standing. After hearing no more shouting or hoofbeats, you figured it was safe to holster your weapon. Tiny Tim had slowed down some, a quick trot instead of a full out gallop. 

The adrenaline from the last ten minutes was beginning to fade, your drooping eyes evident of your waning energy. Leaving forward, you leaned forward as best you could in your saddle, your arms wrapping loosely around your horses next for some security.

“C’mon TT, get us home.” You whispered, before your eyes closed at their own volition, your thoughts only of Arthur as you slept.

[sy-on-boy]

My 2 cents on the plot / thematic relevance of Ch 95

This is not about advancing Plot B or showing Anya's school life (which is still true but has been discussed), but rather the overall theme of education and war. There was an excellent post about how Eden is at the frontline of the cold war and it is subtly shown through the innocent lens of the first graders (I can't find it now, would link it if I could). And I think that perfectly applies to Ch 95.

Quick recap on some references about education/students/war throughout the series (that I remember at the moment):

Sylvia gravely condemning the Berlint University Student Terrorists during the Doggy Crisis arc (Ch 20) and saying "did you learn nothing about war at your university?"

Henderson talking about his experience as a history teacher (Ch 27.5, Short Mission 4) and quote: "Yes, well, I have always maintained that there is nothing to be learned from the memorization of time lines. From the grand efforts with which our forefathers crafted society to the foolish notions that sent them racing to war, to not study the human element at history's root is to not understand history at all"

Note that Damian's best subject has been established to be history, and his family (father) has been involved in war, at least Donovan was PM during most of the war (established by Melinda in Ch 91). Donovan is also a graduated Imperial Scholar (Ch 64).

The Red Circus group started out as a peaceful student demonstration "advocating for peace and quality" (Ch 72) and "speaking out to protect the weakest members of our society". And Billy Squire said, "We were a respectable movement that fought for our cause with respectable means. It was the state that turned violent against us. So I'm not taking criticism from a member of the establishment (referring to Henderson, an educator). I'm gonna see to it that they reap what they've sown." Billy's daughter Biddy was killed by the state at a protest.

Less of a point, but Becky is the daughter of the CEO of a major military manufacturer. Despite their very likely involvement in military conflicts because they sell arms, the Blackbell cohort has been depicted positively so far: Becky being a kind, wonderful friend to Anya, Becky's father doting on her, and Martha again being kind and dignified (and also being an ex-soldier and acquainted with Henderson).

Eden Academy is a major setting for SxF and the themes of politics, education, and war are embedded in it. The students involved in protests/groups are older (the university students, Billy's daughter), but the political implications remain even among the youngest of the students— the first graders.

Hence, Ch 95. When mere first graders are shown to fight to gain connections, which can be political as pointed out by Henderson: "In the world of politics, dances serve as major social events". But of course, they are kids, so they see it more playfully and innocently, especially Becky with her shipper lens on.

Of course, there is also the aspect of getting to know other people better out of interest (the boys asking Anya and Becky to dance because they were impressed after the bus hijacking). But as people have mentioned, nobody mentions this to Damian despite him being equally involved in saving the class (all three of them got a star). The girls aren't interested in Damian as a person, they're interested in him as an asset because of his family and their power.

And I can see the teachers trying to diffuse the tension and create camaraderie with their friendly competition. To me, this reads as the teachers fully realizing "the battlefield of political maneuvering", and they want to remind the kids to have fun, to show good sportsmanship, to unite the kids, to operate as a class and be friendly with one another, and overall make it more lighthearted. It's nice to see the classes work together and get excited / win as a unit, especially compared to the more "individual" bits of fighting for a dance partner later.

We get a bit of comparison between Bill and Damian, with Bill showing good sportsmanship while Damian scoffs at him. But Damian ends up becoming ultra competitive and telling his classmates to not screw it up.

Like the Dodgeball chapter, Damian is clumsily attempting to lead the class by doing good in his quiz, while getting stressed and yelling at his peers when they don't succeed like he did. So he's not really a good leader. Like how him being good at history does not necessarily mean he is good at being peaceful (Short Mission 4 ends with Henderson staring in exasperation at Damian + Anya bickering with each other). But obviously, he is merely a child, and he is naturally immature.

At first Loid is all for advancing Plan B and analysed Anya's suitors in a rational (reductionist?) way by ranking them in terms of gaining intelligence, but he remembers this is just a dance, Anya is a kid, and she should do whatever she wants. Loid (and the adults) are very aware of the political side of the gala, but ultimately they want the kids to have fun and not worry / worry less about politics.

Because they're kids! They'll grow up and learn more and be politically active later, but right now, they're just kids. Kids who don't know much about the world but are eager to make the world a better place.

In the end, we get a panel of Anya and Loid "teaming up" to win Damian's hand for Plan B / world peace. The Damian-Anya dynamic is cushioned with the silly crushy feelings, but underneath it, Operation Strix continues to be a core motivation.

I find it interesting that Endo chooses to focus on the first graders and their innocent view of the world / politics. It's embedded everywhere and especially in a prominent school like Eden, but the kids don't really realise it / realise the severity of it. Heirs and heiresses are educated at Eden and grow up to have incredible influence and the power to shape the world. Our protagonist's best friend comes from a family that manufactures arms. Henderson mentions the importance of learning history to avoid making the same mistakes (ie. war).

So Ch 95 is a cute prom chapter. But I think it also helps to show the themes underneath the fun, bubbly interactions.

[alien--cookie]

I'm like 8 years too late, but oh well - I've had this Captain America Civil War rant stuck in my head for a while and I need to get it out after re-watching it. (This is gonna be long af, but bear with me).

I feel like a lot of people missed the actual point and plot of the movie (and the marketing definitely didn't help). The whole "team cap vs team iron man" stuff becomes irrelevant after like the first 20 minutes of the movie. But of course, it's still quite a big part of the movie and I'd like to take a moment to explore what I think, the different character motivations are around why they signed or didn't (or would / wouldn't).

The only reason Tony "I successfully privatised world peace" Stark signed the accords in the first place anyway is because of his massive survivors guilt complex which we see triggered by the woman who approaches him at the end of his speech to the MIT students. Like this man does not give a single shit about the government, and much like Steve Rogers, he just wants to keep people safe. Unlike Steve, however, he doesn't trust himself to do so and thinks of himself needing the be kept in check, for someone else to take the blame (though he'd probably internalise it anyway, let's be real).

Rhodey has always kind of been more on the side of the government, even if that meant going against Tony - think Iron Patriot - so it makes sense that he'd want to sign. He understands that a group as powerful and dangerous as the Avengers needs to be kept in check, but what he doesn't understand are the risks around that. In a perfect world, it would be fine, but unfortunately government systems are stupid and corrupt.

Peter was only really in the fight in the first place because he was a child blindly following this big celebrity guy he idolised. He didn't know enough about the situation to properly analyse it, just being fed and believing whatever Tony told him (and he had no reason to go against him, so why would he? This was his shot, he's been chosen by THE Tony Stark to help). "Mr Stark said you'd say that" "he said you're wrong, you think you're right, that makes you dangerous." I 100% believe that if Peter had read the accords, that he would have been on Steve's side anyway.

Vision is an embodiment of 'good' and 'peace' - essentially everything that Ultron was supposed to be, but wasn't. He has no reason to be against the accords if it will keep people safe and he makes the point during their conversation of "our very strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict ... breeds catastrophe. Oversight ... oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand." It's also very much the beginning kind of puppy love between him and Wanda in this movie, meaning that he will want to protect her. No matter what. Even if it means "locking her in her room."

Nat was seriously one of the only people in this movie with a brain cell lol. I firmly believe that if the accords had been properly put in place, she would have followed them until she no longer thought the government's instructions were 'right' and would have gone against them anyway. Her main goal in this movie was trying to keep the Avengers, her family, together and ultimately do the 'right' thing.

T'challa didn't give one shit about the accords lmao, he's damn king. No, he was only there in the first place to take revenge on his father's death (which at the point of the airport fight scene he still thought it was Bucky's fault. He later discovers, after following Steve and Bucky to Siberia, that it's Zemo's, and locks him up).

Steve's concerns with the accords are valid, and honestly I wouldn't have signed them either. To be told "sign, retire, or get locked up" isn't really a big winner for me lol. And the thing is, Steve's done this. He fought in WW2, he got paraded around like some big hero while men died, and he did nothing. It wasn't until he went against orders, that he actually did something helpful (saved the captured 107th division in Azzano). So, no, he's not going to be side-lined when people out there need help. That's just not who he is.

Bucky had no part in the accords, and as soon as he got introduced into the movie, that plot point became irrelevant. He was framed by Zemo, and then used to rip the avengers apart. The accords was just another log to add to the fire at that point. He followed Steve because "till the end of the line" and all that. He literally, heartbreakingly, says "I don't know if I'm worth all this," but he follows anyway.

Scott, much like Peter, is kinda just happy to be there. He's following CAPTAIN FREAKING AMERICA into battle without hesitation. But like, let's be honest, given his whole movie and character, I very much doubt Scott would be on Tony's side if he had read the accords.

Clint got dragged out of freaking retirement for this shit, and he didn't actually get involved until after Team Cap already knew about Zemo. That's why he's there. Not because of the accords, but to help Steve get to the Quinjet to get to Siberia and stop Zemo before he can go through with his assumed plan to wake up the five super soldiers who'd been stashed there. (Of course, this isn't actually Zemo's plan, but we'll get back to that later).

Wanda is going through some serious self loathing during this movie, and the incident in Lagos doesn't help. Like at all. Ma girl just wants to live her life and be left alone at this point and she's getting all of these horrible things thrown into her face by Secretary Ross. She doesn't want to be controlled, she doesn't want to be a weapon, she wants to be free. "You locked me in my room." - Girl already probably hates Tony Stark due to her family being killed by one of his bombs and Ultron, so she's mad anyway.

Sam is on Steve's side from the start. With the accords, to fight Zemo, all of it. During the 'discussion' between him and Rhodey, he says "So let's say we agree to this thing. How long is it gonna be before they LoJack us like a bunch of common criminals?" He doesn't trust Secretary Ross, and is clearly hesitant to add his signature to the accords. (not that I blame him).

The main actual villain and 'plot' of the movie after the first part with the accords, was the whole thing with Zemo wanting to tear the Avengers apart to get revenge for his family dying in Sokovia. He takes advantage of the accords, and of Bucky / The Winter Soldier to do this but it's not really discussed which annoys me. It's a MAJOR part of the film, yet all I ever really see being discussed are the accords affecting the decisions of characters throughout the film with no consideration of the wider picture.

From when the UN meeting is blown up, the Avengers are being manipulated by Zemo working in the background throughout the film. He frames Bucky for murder, and Steve - who has been looking for Bucky for the past 2 years - goes after him like ‘tf man’. Bucky gets taken in and Zemo uses the opportunity to activate the Winter Soldier programming, learn about Hydra’s super soldier program, and of course - “Mission report. December 16, 1991.”

This leads to Bucky’s escape and attack, Steve and co going on the run, and eventually the airport fight. The meaning of this scene gets lost, I feel, when people relate it back to the accords because it’s not about that anymore. Not really, not for anyone. Especially not for Steve, or even for Tony.

Tony at this point, most definitely feels like his world is being torn apart. He’s losing control, he’s spiralling, and Steve just isn’t listening. He’s blinded by his anger to the bigger picture and he just wants to get a handle on the situation to deal with it further.

Steve’s forgotten all about the accords, his priority is keeping Bucky safe and stopping Zemo. He tries to tell Tony, tries to talk to him, but Tony isn’t listening either. I mean their whole interaction just before the fight shows this:

(the dialogue below has been condensed to show the key lines - basically I got rid of other characters talking irrelevantly)

-

Steve Rogers: Hear me out, Tony. That doctor, the psychiatrist, he's behind all of this.

Tony Stark: Anyway, Ross gave me 36 hours to bring you in. That was 24 hours ago. Can you help a brother out?

Steve Rogers: You're after the wrong guy.

Tony Stark: Your judgment is askew. Your old war buddy killed innocent people yesterday.

Steve Rogers: And there are five more super soldiers just like him. I can't let the doctor find them first, Tony. I can't.

- later -

Tony Stark: And you've been a complete idiot. Dragging in Clint. 'Rescuing' Wanda from a place she doesn't even want to leave, a safe place. I'm trying to keep . . . I'm trying to keep you from tearing the Avengers apart.

Steve Rogers: You did that when you signed.

Tony Stark: Alright, We're done. You're gonna turn Barnes over, you're gonna come with us. NOW! Because it's us! Or a squad of J-SOC guys . . . with no compunction about being impolite. [Steve looks aside.] Come on.

-

Not to mention that Tony, after learning that Zemo impersonated and killed the actual doctor dude that was supposed to see Bucky whilst he was in confinement, he DISOBEYED the accords and Secretary Ross to go and help Steve stop what they thought at the time was the reactivation of the five super soldiers who'd been left in cryo freeze.

He follows Steve and Bucky to Siberia to help them, not to fight them. That only changes because of Zemo showing the footage of Bucky, WHILE UNDER BASICALLY MIND CONTROL, killing Tony’s parents.

In this scene, Tony 100% has every right to be angry. Unfortunately, he’s the kind of person who cannot see past his anger. He gets in his head, he spirals, and he tries to kill Bucky based on blind rage. (IT WASN’T BUCKY’S FAULT DAMMIT).

And yes, Steve was 100% in the wrong for not telling Tony. This whole scene could have been very easily avoided if Steve had just pulled Tony aside and had the difficult conversation about his parents death. Tony deserved to know, and Steve was only sparing himself pain by doing it. Dick move Steve, 0/10.

The fight between the three allows Zemo, having successfully completed his plan of eliminating the super soldiers and tearing the avengers apart, to slip away. With his work done, he tries to end his own life, but T’challa stops him and arrests him instead.

Steve and Tony’s fight was unnecessary, dramatic, and heart-breaking, and I’m very glad they managed to make up later, but ye. I think, at the end of the day, they’re all just dramatic idiots with communication issues lol.

-

Thank you for reading my long ass essay lmao, apparently I have a lot of feelings about this movie 😂

[fic-dumpster]

The road so far

Summary: Have you ever wondered what goes through a writer’s mind while she’s trying to complete the stories you like so much? Well! Wonder no more! Here’s a first look into a writer’s unstable mind!

Characters: Bonten against Omi (no x because it’s war)

Word count: 1K

Content Warnings: fighting, slight breaking of the fourth wall, sitcoms, crackfic, it’s a joke. Yes, it can be read as x reader… just pretend. Hostility, a meme, DIH references, other fandoms mentioned.

A.N: TAKEOMI IS NOT OMI. I am Omi. I wrote this in 15 so it’s very rushed. idk… this is me trying to portray my internal struggles while I write. I just worked joke of 1000 words… and yes, characters never listen to what we want.

“If you think we’re gonna cooperate with you after leaving us for almost three years, you’re delusional,” Kokonoi crossed his legs once he sat down in front of Omi.

Omi had called a meeting with Bonten in hopes of coming to an agreement. She needed to work on her WIPs but her characters weren’t cooperating.

“As a matter of fact, I am delusional,” Omi answered, sipping from her water bottle, “anyway, I just need to finish the rest of the meetings and we’re done! Swear!”

Around her, the rest of Bonten sat with serious faces. Nobody was happy to be there. After her disappearance a few years ago, things weren’t quite as peaceful between them as they used to be.

“Yeah, yeah. I see how you are. Use us and drop us.” Sanzu sounded bitter and angry. He didn’t take the vanishing so well. He had bonded with her and she just left him. That wasn’t right in his book.

“Ugh, women…” With a sigh, Rindou stretched his long limbs, showing how tired and stressed he was.

“What do you mean ‘ugh? Women?’” Omi harshly questioned Rindou with a frown on her face.

“Nothing…” he replied nonchalantly, sitting up straight once again.

“Forget that! You clearly have preferences for certain members.” As she heard that voice her skin began to crawl. Hair standing on end, Omi slowly turned towards the source— once she saw his obnoxious face, only irritation was left behind.

“Oh, shut up, Ran! I wrote your story with your brother first! Why are you complaining?” She quickly replied, raising her hand in protest.

“Because he’s one of those,” added Mochi in a whisper.

So much of a whisper that was… half the men present burst out laughing which caused Ran to sigh in frustration. He was done. So many years and he still didn’t know what the hell that meant.

“We can't just hop back in,” Takeomi’s voice raised above the hysterical laughter of his peers.

Omi deflated at his words. She dreaded the worst… Was this how things were going to end?

“Please, I’ll do anything! I can’t leave the story like that!” Her eyes began to water as desperation crept in.

“Well, too bad! You left!” Sanzu’s bitterness didn’t falter, not even at the sight of unshed tears in her eyes.

“I said I was sorry! And I was busy with life, you know?”

“Yeah? Life? Then who are those guys? Rhysand? Sylus? Jinshi?” Sanzu spoke each name with disdain.

“Yeah! Who’s Umemiya? And some dude named Hoshina?” Rindou backed him up.

“More? I only heard about Sanji—” Kakucho suddenly intervened but was cut off by Omi.

“Okay! Stop! Oh my gosh!! Stoop!” Omi’s face had changed three different types of red in the last few seconds, “That… has nothing to—“

“Bullshit! I call bullshit! You created a different blog for the Stylus guy!” Sanzu was not dropping the subject.

“Oh my gosh! Let it go! And his name is Sylus!”

“AHAA!” Pink hairs wildly flew everywhere as Sanzu stood up and pointed an accusatory finger at Omi.

“Just… just help me write the few chapters I’m missing and the end. That’s all I’m asking… I lost the WIPs and I can’t by myself…” she pleaded. Internally praying they understood her dire situation.

“What do we get in return?” Mikey finally spoke after observing the back and forth between his men and Omi.

That sentence perked her up. A ray of hope finally came in between the stormy clouds.

“What-what would you want?” She asked with bright eyes and a new determination ignited.

“We can discuss that later,” Mikey waved his hand dismissively.

Omi nodded eagerly in return. Finally! Some progress. “Okay, fine… that’s good…”

After Mikey’s short exchange of words, they decided to end the meeting. It was time to move forward and begin working. Everyone stood up and began to leave the room.

They saw Omi move to the side with Takeomi and they started to talk amicably, with smiles and very friendly hand gestures. It was like time had never passed for them. She didn’t treat him differently and Takeomi seemed comfortable with her.

“Why does she like the old man…” Kakucho wondered out loud.

“It’s the daddy issues, I bet,” Sanzu was seething as he kept watching the scene play in front of him.

“What did you say?!” You turned your head like the exorcist once you heard those words leave Sanzu’s lips.

“Does she have superhuman hearing? How the hell did she hear you?” Ran said with a bit of panic in his voice.

And it began. Omi had been chasing the pink-haired man for a while now…

“I DON'T NEED YOU, SANZU! I CAN FINISH DIH WITHOUT YOU!” But before she could catch him, a pair of hands caught her first, “UGH! KAKUCHO LET ME GO! HE’S DEAD!”

Meanwhile a bit further away from the commotion.

“We have agreed to help her. Was it really necessary to do all the drama?” Questioned Takeomi to Mikey and Mochi. The three men watched the rest battling it out.

“We voted and the majority chose to make drama before agreeing,” Mikey said as his eyes followed Sanzu speeding away from Omi,

“Even Koko?” Mochi was surprised by that information.

“Even Koko.” Mumbled the short man.

“RAN, YOU TOO! BOTH YOU AND SANZU ARE DEAD!” Omi yelled, still being held by Kakucho who was trying to help diffuse the situation.

“What did I do?”

“YOU’RE ONE OF THOSE!” She kicked her feet in an attempt to be let loose, “I SHOULD HAVE KEPT WRITING FOR HAIKYUU! They wouldn’t treat me like this!”

“Yeah? Well, go and play ball with your sporty boys!” Ran screamed back.

“You’re insufferable!” Omi screamed as she tackled Ran to the ground.

“She became way more violent in the years we didn’t see her,” Mikey commented and the rest of his executive nodded in agreement. Everyone just watched Omi and Ran scuffling on the floor.

Bonus:

Omi: and then you do as it says here *points to the script*

Kakucho: that’s too mean. I don’t want to do that.

Omi: you’re a criminal! How is it mean to push her face down and—

Kakucho: shhh no please *blushing*

Omi: I’m working with amateurs… *throws her stack of paper into the trash*

[moonselune]

Hi!!!! I was wondering if we can have some dark BG3 but with Karlach.. if you can because ohhhhh I love your stuff for her literally every time I read it I fall in love THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING BTW

Ah thank you so much !

oooo okay y'all I'm writing this as a one shot, she's not being added to the list (for now), I will most likely add her when I'm adding the cambions which will be when requests are finished. This is gonna be set when she takes control of the nether brain.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Dark!Karlach x reader | Blood-drenched Sunset

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The infernal glow of Avernus spread before you like a sick parody of a sunset, blood-red skies choked with smoke and ash. The smell of brimstone clung to everything, a constant reminder of where you were and what you had become a part of. Karlach stood at the edge of a jagged cliff overlooking the battlefield below, her fiery mane whipping in the hot wind. Imps and cambions swarmed around her like moths drawn to a flame, eager to do her bidding.

You watched her, your heart aching. This wasn’t the Karlach you had fallen in love with—the one who had fought so fiercely for others, who had carried a blazing heart of courage and compassion. But you understood how she had come to this. Her pain, her rage, her betrayal by the people of Baldur’s Gate—it all made sense. And that was what hurt the most. You understood her too well.

When she turned to you, her eyes were wild with fury and determination, but there was something else buried deep within them. Something you could barely see but refused to give up on.

“They’ll all pay,” she growled, her voice like a low rumble of thunder. “Every last one of Zariel’s lapdogs. Just like those cowards in Baldur’s Gate who let Gortash rise to power. They’ll all burn.”

You stepped forward, hands trembling but held open in a gesture of peace. You were covered in ash, grime and splatters of blood that belonged to those you called friend.

“Karlach,” you began softly, but your voice broke under the weight of what you were about to say. “You were one of Zariel’s servants once. Remember? There are people down there—innocents, just like you were.”

Her expression twisted, her lips curling into a bitter smile.

“Don’t,” she snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut as she pointed her index finger at you. “Don’t you dare compare me to them. I escaped. I broke free. They don’t deserve your pity, and they sure as hell don’t deserve mine.”

You reached out a trembling hand toward her, desperation thick in your voice. “Please, Karlach. This isn’t who you are. You’re better than this—better than all of this. Be fair, give them a chance. Don’t let this place consume what’s left of your humanity.”

For a moment, you thought you saw her flinch, the barest flicker of hesitation crossing her face. But then her expression hardened, and she let out a dry, humorless laugh.

“You think I don’t see what you’re doing?” she said, stepping closer to you, her towering form casting a shadow over your trembling figure. “You’re trying to control me. Hold me back. You’re lucky I love you, babe! So damn lucky!”

She snapped her fingers, and before you could react, two cambions stepped out of the shadows, their claws digging into your arms as they grabbed hold of you. You struggled and cried out, but their grip was ironclad.

Karlach grinned, the flames dancing around her face making her look almost demonic. She sauntered up to you, cupping your cheek with a hand that burned hot against your skin.

“Don’t worry,” she purred, her voice dripping with mock affection. “I want you to see everything. Front row seat, just for you.” She turned to the cambions, giving them a wink. “Make sure they don’t miss a thing.”

The cambions dragged you toward the edge of the cliff, forcing you to kneel as Karlach strode back toward the battlefield below. Her war cry echoed across the hellish plains, and her army of imps and demons surged forward with savage glee.

Tears streamed down your face as you watched the carnage unfold, helpless to do anything but plead silently with the woman you loved—the woman you knew was still in there somewhere. You whispered her name, over and over again, a prayer against the storm.

Somewhere in the chaos, you thought you saw her pause. Just for a moment. A flicker of something human—a memory, perhaps, or a feeling she couldn’t quite extinguish. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep your hope alive.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

y'all how dare you force me to do that to my baby girl.. jk jk i can't lie making her evil was very fun. I hope you guys enjoyed these dark karlach scraps, i think there is another dark karlach request in the queue so y'all will be fed again at some point - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[guillotinna]

I keep seeing these Gen z is task force 141 and I wanna join

Anytime you use a computer, you do that stupid movie hacker trope of exaggerated typing and say "I'm in"

Saying "POV" in front of sentences

In the group chat saying "1 like and I'll kms", liking your own message and then saying "damn guess I gotta"

I see a lot of these posts were Gaz and Soap would understand y/n....bffr, no those geezers would not

No one knows what the gen z kid is saying they just know it's probably not good

"You're telling me a shrimp fried this rice?"

You have a small photo you keep tucked in your chest pocket and after enough times seeing you looking lovingly at it, one of the guys asks who it is. Is it a s/o from back home? 😏😏

You say no and pull out a photo card of your fave singer and they're like ??? Really

One time during a particularly physical scuffle with the enemy, you get thrown to the ground and huff out "one hop this time" only to promptly tackle tf outta your assailant while saying "take it back now yall"

Reads everyone's zodiac charts except ghost bc he won't tell his birthday let alone the time he was born so you just make one up

Price calls a 6 am meeting to which you say "double it and give to the next person"

*Alexa, play teenagers by MCR*

If you had time describe the base, you'd say it smells like ball sweat, blood and war crimes which everyone took offense to for different reasons

Would absolutely get soaps doodles tattooed

Actually speaking of which, imagine getting caught giving yourself stick and pokes with a pen and being banned from using pens period

You'd be in a meeting with a #2 pencil

Ofc a gen z member would be absolutely feral which very little regard for their own safety much to the dismay of the others

Quoting "Oh these aren't homemade, they were made in a factory....a bomb factory......they're bombs." All the time around soap even though he has no idea what you're talking about

You don't spent too much alone time with ghost bc he likes quiet and you can't be alone with your thoughts which is why you lean more towards spending time with soap or gaz

I just like puns so I'm gonna add this but gen z love borgs (a customized gallon jug of alcohol that is usually given a name) and yours is appropriately named taskforce 1-borg-1

this is mainly for my americans but i know pretty much the whole world got beef with engl*nd: before you met Soap, you thought the entire 141 was en*lish so when you finally did meet him, you said "oh thank god" with a sigh

americans 🤝 scotts

making fun of english "people"

"Pull up in the monster, automobile gangsta With a bad bitch that came fr-" "....sergeant, comms off please"

you show Ghost WAP and he has to take a walk

*price yelling at gaz and soap*: KYLE GARRICK AND JOHN MACTAVISH GET IN HERE- Y/n: oop not the government name

Another for my US baddies: if your'e ever arguing with any of the guys, the nail in the coffin would be "and it's called soccer"

"one more like and i'll-" "enough!"

you call Price "ms. girl" and he could not be more confused

someone asks "do you serve?" and u reply "yah, serve cunt"

when asked why you decided to join the military you said something like: "well i didnt think i'd live past 18 so when I did, i ended up here".....crickets from the rest of the team

"good thing we only have showers on base because i would have already taken a toaster bath by now"

ask Gaz "no bitches?🤨" one more time see what happens

price: the enemies have taken civvies hostage and blocked off all exits and entrances to the town-" y/n: "omg tea"

Also calling price "capt. Save-a-hoe"....I wanna be saaaavvveddd ;)

If you took a shot every time you said "rest in peace to all the soldiers that died in the service, I dive in her cervix", you'd be dead lmao

When asked if they like the military they'd say "it was either this or the psych ward so yah, I'll take it"

Quoting MPGIS constantly and no one even sort of knows what that is ("Crack. Is that what you smoke? You smoke crack?")

Some detainee being interrogated is spilling some nonsense, so you hit them with "oh brother this guy stinks!" And then with the butt of your gun

"Little bad trini bitch but she mixed with China, real thick vagina, smuggle bricks to-" "SARGENT ENOUGH"

Falling asleep on team mates (minus ghost's) shoulders mostly because the most peace they get is when you're unconscious

*when y/n hears any slightly suggestive/dirty phrase*: what are we talking about 😏 (iykyk)

Same energy as: " born next to a nuclear power plant, has an IQ of 2 and was hit in the head with several Rocks as a child"

Vine quotes out the wazoo, it's just awful for the rest of the team lmao

Replying to everything with "on god?"

soap: "what are you 6?" y/n: "yah 6 inches deep in your mom".....you did not walk away from that unscathed to say the least...worth it tho

[stationintern]

Hello my friends! I am late, but we won't mention it. April was a very busy month, but I managed to read way more than I've been able to the last few months, so I have a good selection for you. There's a couple rereads, a couple fics I put off reading for far too long, and a few that I found at the perfect time and devoured on sight.

Let's go!

Yours Truly by @skeptiquewrites for H/D Bodice Ripper Fest 2022 M, 14.8k

Every single one of Harry’s exes has gone on to marry the next person they date, and with the upcoming nuptials of numbers six and seven to each other, Harry’s feeling exhausted by it all. It doesn’t really matter if he lets people assume Draco Malfoy is his boyfriend for a moment of peace. In any case, Draco’s been away for five years and there’s no way he would find out, right?

I read this fic about a year ago, and I am so glad that I chose to revisit it this month. It is just so, so good. Endlessly hilarious, with a solid plot that is resolved neatly in 14 thousand words. I really love Harry here. His letters are so adorable. This aspect comes in later in this list as well, but I love when Draco is kind of a mysterious figure for a good chunk of a fic. The wondering, the anticipation. What kind of Draco will we meet this time? It's all very delicious.

Seeker's High by @corvuscrowned M, 40k

Harry Potter doesn’t expect to take up running years after the war ends; it just sort of happens. He also doesn’t expect that — as he fights tooth and nail to climb out of a post-war depression he didn’t realize he’d fallen into — he’ll end up running right into the arms of Draco Malfoy. A half angsty drama, half romcom of Harry working on himself, learning how to accept help from his friends, and falling in love with his childhood nemesis.

Another reread. This is one of those fics I've found myself periodically thinking about, mostly because it just feels so right. Harry's characterization in this is fascinating, and I really enjoyed watching his slow evolution as his relationships grow, both with running and with Draco. A unique premise that I really enjoyed and know I will revisit again.

Turn by Saras_Girl E, 306k

One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.

Okay, so, I'm not even gonna say anything. I put off reading this for way too long, and not knowing a single thing about this fic was probably the reason I devoured every chapter the way I did. Just know I was clawing at the walls.

Rookie Moves by peu_a_peu E, 75.3k

Aurors Potter and Malfoy crack the case.

Oh my fucking god. I have never in my life laughed out loud this many times while reading a fic. Truly, two dumb, horny assholes just trying to crack the case. But, behind all the side-splitting humor (and searingly hot sex) is a deep understanding of both characters that shines through and makes every moment hit so much harder. As in, they would fucking say that. Every single follow-up in the series is a banger, too. Thanks to @tackytigerfic for pointing those out to me!

Make This Leap by @oflights M, 118k

Harry owns a struggling restaurant which is running out of money, and his Head Chef has just handed in notice. He's at a bit of a loss as to what to do until Narcissa Malfoy presents an obvious solution: bring in Draco Malfoy as Chef and part owner. Harry does.

I relived four years of my life reading this fic. Both the good and the bad. Truly, a wonderful portrayal of the epic highs and lows of restaurant work. From personal drama to work-related catastrophes, this fic has it all. Like I said before, I love having to wait a bit to see Draco. I love hearing about him through the grapevine. I had so much fun reading this, and it was a treat to see these characters in an environment that I hadn't really envisioned them in before. Lovable (and punchable) side characters, a very stressed out Harry Potter, and a solid amount of health code infractions. Amazing.

See you at the end of May! xx, Moon.

[eva-does-its-best]

can you shut the fuck up youre making all trans guys look bad so fucking annoying. insane that u cant handle any fucking criticism whatsoever lol holy shit. whole ass fucking paragraph. gotta put that evil mean trans woman in her place right. god forbid someone gets frustrated at being consistently shit on by people in her community. im gonna be so real rn and say that as trans guys / tme people we have it so much easier its actually insane (coming from someone whos been thru corrective rape when i was 12 after i came out as a trans guy btw! theres my fucking pound of flesh. jesus.) not even rly trying to convince u but u just piss me the fuck off annoying as fuck

First off: So sorry about what happened to you, my most sincere condolences. It's the only thing I can really give, hope your life gives you enough peace and happyness to allow you to live with such an event.

Second:

You're making all trans guys look bad

I'm not a trans guy, I'm a transmasc, very different, a difference you should if not care about at least keep in mind if you want to respect less binary forms of masculinity. I don't speak as nor speak for trans guys, because I am not one, maybe if you actually read what I write you would know.

Insane that you can't handle any fucking criticism

Criticism where? Let me be absolutely blunt and sincere: All I see in the posts I replied to is tired, scared and hurt people who cope with said feelings by turning their vents into everyone else's problems.

I vent a fucking lot, everyone can see that, but when I vent I am sincere and point the source of my pain, how I feel, why I feel that way, and which people I believe reinforce it. What I don't do is go out of my way to involve people who have nothing to do with it or with how I feel.

Trust me I know how they feel, and the way they are dealing with it is incredibly self-destructive and I want nothing more than for them to get out of that shitty mental state that hurts them so they can feel better and have a slightly better life and emotional responses to the world.

Whole ass fucking paragraph

Yeah, that is how one transmits ideas. Shocking.

Gotta put that evil mean trans woman in her place right

I've replied to a couple posts so I don't know which one you're talking about, but I've no clue about the gender of the people who I replied to, I simply replied to shitty ideas, don't care who's behind them.

Pretty lame that you try to make this a gender war, don't you think?

God forbid someone gets frustrated at being consistently shit on by people in her community

"her" ok so this is you personally defending someone you know, I can tell.

Statement goes both ways don't you think? You think this is just for fun?? Yeah let's start a conflict that is affecting the lives of real people for fun!

We are fucking tired of the mockery, the disrespect, and the extreme policing of transmasc and trans men's language and experiences by people who have no say in them.

Do you care about that too or are you a hypocrite? Because when I reply to people's shit-ass posts I do in fact care about them otherwise I'd ignore em and let em keep hurting themselves.

"Oh but these ones attacked this person" I. Don't. Give. A. Fuck. There are shitheads everywhere, in every opinion and side of any conflict. There are gonna be shitheads who use this as an excuse to attack people of a certain particular gender they already had something against, it is irrelevant to the ideas exposed. Let's not act like there isn't a whole plethora of posts about killing transmasc please, you SHOULD care avout that too.

As transmascs/tme people we have it so much easier

You're free to have an opinion about your own experiences and I have no horse in that race. HOWEVER:

•You're not the only transmasc in the world and your opinion is very clearly not a universal truth, so don't you dare spit on everyone else's experiences by deciding what's true and what's not without counting with them.

• In your dumbass dychotomy of "tma/tme" transmasc are not the only ones put on the "tme" label and the same way I cannot talk about YOUR experiences you have no fucking right to talk about everyone else's experiences specially the ones from other identities and lives that you did not get to be or experience.

•Without dipping my toes in your opinion or your experiences I profoundly disagree with you.

• Lastly, WHO THE FUCK CARES WHO HAS IT WORSE?! WE'RE ALL FUCKING HURT AND BROKEN WE'RE LITERALLY KILLED IN THIS WORLD FOR JUST EXISTING, YOU WANT A COMPETITION??? GO FIGHT FOR TRANS PEOPLE'S RIGHTS TO COMPETE IN SPORTS INSTEAD OF CREATING OPRESSION OLYMPICS. GET YOUR COMFY ASS OUT OF YOUR INTERNET ARMCHAIR AND GO SEE WHAT'S GOING ON IN THE WORLD FFS.

There's my fucking pound of flesh. jesus.

Again so sorry you had to go through that, but you realize the whole point of this is to be able to have words for those specific forms of opression and awful events right?? To have experiences like that respected and treated with the seriousness they deserve right??? That is what we want.

You experienced transandrophobia, and the people you're defending right now don't want you to have a word for it, or allow only words picked by them as if they had any right to speak for you. Respect yourself more, man.

Not even rly trying to convince u but u just piss me the fuck off annoying as fuck

Hey at least you're honest, good. I don't give a fuck though, if you wanna keep hating me I have good news for you: I don't plan to ever shut the fuck up, enjoy.

The one person you hate is not me anyway, that is plain obvious... but that's a you thing to try and work on.

Sayonara dude👋🏻

[semisolidmind]

i dunno if this has been asked before, but i kinda wanted to splurge a little bit.

how and where does azure lion and the other animal celestials play a part in the BEW au? or even TAB AU. my personal idea on it could be that azure uses reader kind of as leverage against wukong, while as in TAB maybe reader is used to cause a rift between the brothers so that azure has an easier time murking wukong.

alright, so. the big bad brotherhood. they mostly just play the part of extra soldiers and sovereigns in wukongs conquests, his own little war council. im gonna go with the idea that the betrayal hasn't happened, since wukong doesn't get recruited by heaven in the base versions of these aus

(ive said before that, at least in bad end, the brotherhood wouldn't bother with reader too much. buuuut i don't think i specified what they're like in TAB and their reaction to their comrades marrying reader.)

peng (the bitch) doesn't much care for reader. they wonder why the all-powerful wukong is bothering with a human. they likely make a snide comment or two when wukong first introduces her to them at a meeting, which wukong (and macaque) immediately shut down with threats of violence. mac especially doesn't tolerate peng being an ass to his wife; his hatred for the winged menace is potent. luckily the bird demon is catty, not stupid; and surprisingly, they learn to keep their beak shut about their leader's wife. this leads to them largely ignoring her. reader doesn't like them much either, but tries to be polite.

yellowtusk feels pity for reader. he knows she didn't exactly become queen of flower fruit mountain willingly, and believes that she would be happier with other humans. but he's not called "wise" for nothing; he won't be lifting a finger to help her. even as strong as he is, he knows he stands no chance against the two simian warlords. regardless, he's polite to reader and will speak with her about the various topics that she's read about. he's a surprisingly good conversationalist.

demon bull king is ambivalent towards reader. he knows what it's like to want someone outside your station, so he doesn't say anything negative to wukong about it. he'll speak to reader if she speaks to him, and is overall polite (seeing as she is technically a queen and he has a lot of respect for wukong), if not very gruff when doing so.

azure lion is the only one who would be actively kind to reader, the only one who would speak with her like a true equal. despite his status as a once-celestial soldier, demonic sovereign, and a general of the infamous monkey kings' demon army...he still has a soft spot for mortal civilians. if a platoon of the monkey king's army is passing through, one would hope that he's leading it. less innocent blood is spilt when the lion general is at the helm.

its because of this that he was concerned when wukong introduced reader to him. what was a human doing on flower fruit mountain? she's married to the monkey king? she seemed...very uncomfortable in the presence of her husband. the lion demon knows that she was likely frightened by the two monkey warlords' use of "demonic courting tactics" and introduced himself gently. the fact that she responded to him (considering his size and appearance) without too much hesitancy, was able to bow politely and look him in the eyes despite all she'd likely been through at the hands of his brothers–he couldn't help but admire her bravery.

azure is aware that his sworn simian brothers are unconventional in many aspects of their life, so the fact that the two of them would marry a human (the same human, no less) isn't too surprising. the two are of one mind, and azure has made a tentative peace with the ruthless way his brothers conduct their business.

...but he can't help but feel sympathy for reader. she didn't choose this life for herself, though he can see the lingering affection she has for wukong and macaque. and once he gets to know her (an occasional talk outside the council room while the warlords are busy discussing strategy, a close seating at a banquet, or during a party on the mountain), azure begins to understand why they chose this woman. a fondness grows in his heart for the quiet human who is kind to him despite knowing what he's done.

he won't say it aloud, but...had it been him who'd been found and tended to by reader, azure couldn't be sure he wouldn't have made the same choice as his brothers.

[natalieh007]

Okay I am so into Camus and Sartre beef. So this is a little recap.

So Sartre was Marxist and Camus was not (he was in communist party but he got the fuck out as fast as he could). Also another problem Sartre believed that violence and wars could create greater good, on the other side Camus was all about a peace.

So they were friends (and rivals) for a while and then their different opinions started to show up. Then an argument broke out, but was initially confined to a relatively small group of mutual friends of the two of them. THEN Camus wrote a letter in which he wrote "hell is other people", it was kinda easy to imagine that he was referring to Sartre.

‘Absolute freedom is the right of the strongest to dominate,’ Camus wrote, while ‘absolute justice is achieved by the suppression of all contradiction: therefore it destroys freedom.’ The conflict between justice and freedom required constant re-balancing, political moderation, an acceptance and celebration of that which limits the most: our humanity. ‘To live and let live,’ he said, ‘in order to create what we are.’

That is what Camus wrote in The Rebel and Sartre was like “EWWWW” not very communist of Camus (as far as Sartre was concerned, he thought that it was possible to achieve perfect justice and freedom – that described the achievement of communism. Under capitalism, and in poverty, workers could not be free. Their options were unpalatable and inhumane: to work a pitiless and alienating job, or to die. But by removing the oppressors and broadly returning autonomy to the workers, communism allows each individual to live without material want, and therefore to choose how best they can realise themselves. This makes them free, and through this unbending equality, it is also just. THE PROBLEM is that, for Sartre and many others on the Left, communism required revolutionary violence to achieve because the existing order must be smashed.) And they were close friends at that time so instead of, I guess, TALK IT OUT like Sartre telling Camus „you know what ? I think the rebel was shit” and Camus being like „okay you epitome of hell” or just being like „we don’t have to agree on everything”, Les Temps Modernes – Sartre’s journal (it was edited by him) PUBLISHED LIKE FEW MOTHS AFTER THE LETTER a critical review of The Rebel - sold out three times over. And like it was year 1951 in which Sartre published just one work and it wasn’t successful BUT THE REWIEW FOR SURE WAS (Sartre’s diss track could be banger)

Anyways then Sartre wrote a public letter about Camus. He wrote that their friendship wasn’t easy but he’s gonna miss it AND THAT Camus is philosophically incapable ??

And that was a final straw so they never spoke to each other again.

BUT 15 years after Camus’s death Sartre was asked about their friendship AND Sartre said that Camus was probably his last good friend.

My conclusion is that if they were alive they would love mean girls (don’t ask me why.)

In case u didn’t read The Rebel or you don’t remember, in the book, Camus gave voice to a roughly drawn ‘philosophy of revolt’. This wasn’t a philosophical system per se, but an amalgamation of philosophical and political ideas: every human is free, but freedom itself is relative; one must embrace limits, moderation, ‘calculated risk’; absolutes are anti-human. Most of all, Camus condemned revolutionary violence. Violence might be used in extreme circumstances (he supported the French war effort, after all) but the use of revolutionary violence to nudge history in the direction you desire is utopian, absolutist, and a betrayal of yourself.)

[matan4il]

hey sorry if this is disrespectful as a non-jew but ive been reading up on stuff and thinking about i/p and.

War is synonymous with mass death. There has not been a single war in the history of mankind that has not resulted in suffering. Even Sun Tsu, in his 25-century old The Art of War, emphasized the importance of peace and of nonviolent resolutions. so i really do not understand the watermelon-fixated dumbasses who cheered on the oct. 7 massacre then decried Israel's self defense as genocide. this is the "globalized intifada" they've been clamouring for. this is *exactly* what you're asking for when you cheer on hamas and their genocidal buddies. sorry that yank school never taught you that war is bad but this is how reality works. the real pro-palestine stance would be staunchly against hamas.

Hi Nonnie!

I'm not gonna lie, whenever I think about war, the one sentence that gets stuck in my head is, "war is hell." It is death, destruction, mayhem, and cruelty that has no bounds, even when it's not committed on purpose. Even the most justified of wars. I think one of the reasons we all keep going back to WWII is because it was simultaneously maybe the most justified war ever, literally fought to stop a fascist regime and its dictatorial partners from expanding their conquests of more and more land, occupying more and more people, bringing about more and more suffering (including the most extreme case of genocide in human history), and yet at the same time, it was also the single bloodiest conflict ever, and the war itself was cruel and brutal, certainly when we talk about acts committed by the Nazis and their collaborators, but on occasion there were atrocities committed by the allied soldiers, too (not to the same degree, and not as a part of their government's policy, but my point is that even fighters who are in battle for the best of reasons, as the allied soldiers were, have some among them, who commit terrible crimes. In part, because war blurs the lines of normal reality and morality).

And I'm saying all of this, because I truly believe that we, as human beings, should always aspire to avoid war whenever possible. I would have given EVERYTHING I could in order to stop Oct 7 from happening. Because the second that the massacre started, that's when this war began, and so many innocent lives were doomed, along with the terrorists. From the POV of what is internationally accepted as an act of war, Hamas firing 4,000 rockets into Israel in one day qualifies. Hamas breaching Israel's border and invading it with thousands of armed fighters qualifies. And without a doubt, Hamas committing the biggest massacre of Jews since the Holocaust, while intentionally targeting civilians, and compounding the horror of so many deaths, with the rape and beheading and torture and abuse and then kidnapping of even more victims, it beyond qualifies as an act of war. In fact, on August 25, 2023 (a month and a half before the massacre), Hamas senior Saleh al-Arouri explicitly said in an Arabic interview that IT IS THEIR GOAL to, that THEY WANT to, start a "total war" with Israel.

Once Hamas made and executed that choice, it doesn't matter how much and how many Israelis may aspire to avoid war. We were already in one. We should always aspire to avoid war, but we also have to recognize that sometimes, the choice simply isn't in our hands. It wasn't in the hands of the British on Sep 1, 1939. And it wasn't in ours on Oct 7, 2023.

And the thing is that war IS hell. Like I said, the massacre of Oct 7 was already war. Which means, it was already hell. Certainly for its victims, but it also was already a hell that every Israeli will carry with them for decades to come. And if we don't want ANOTHER war, if we don't want ANOTHER HELL, then we have to be sure that Hamas, those who chose to start this war, will pay for it in such a way that they can't start another one, and so that others will be deterred from starting one, too (I'm thinking mainly of Hezbollah and Iran, but all Islamists need to see a western democracy not backing down from defending itself in a war it did not choose).

THAT is the meaning behind the ancient Latin phrase, "Si vis pacem, para bellum." If you want peace, prepare for war. It's the understanding that sometimes, for the sake of peace in the long run, you have to be prepared to fight in the near future.

(remember in 2014, as the pope released doves in a symbolic gesture of hoping for peace in Ukraine, and they ended up being attacked?)

I want peace. I have always wanted peace. I was the ridiculous kid, who had a "peace diary" where I wrote every day about how much I wanted peace, and how I hoped it was coming. I'm not writing that diary anymore, but I still want it, and I still believe that one day, we WILL have peace.

But it's not going to happen as long as there are extremists on Israel's borders, who still believe they can genocide us a second time, and are willing to start a war to achieve that. When they give up on that "dream," when they finally see that it will always fail, and in the process, they will suffer hell along with us to such a degree that it just won't be worth it, that's when we'll have real peace. That's when both Israelis and Palestinians will finally be safe from the threat of another hell being unleased on us. We'll have real peace, not the kind made to get something from the other side, but because both sides want peace over war for themselves (that's what the crucial mistake of the "land for peace" formula was IMO. It should be "peace for peace." With agreed land concessions, obviously. But it should be clear that the big prize both sides get is peace itself, and not that one side is doing the other a favor, and giving it peace in exchange for something material, because that kind of peace is an abstract concept, that can be withdrawn at any moment when it's not something the "giver" values for themselves. That's what happened with the Oslo accords, the PLO got territories, self rule and international legitimization, then as admitted by Imad Faluji, the Palestinian Communications Minister, Yasser Arafat planned the launch of the violent riots and wave of terrorist attacks known as the second intifada once he concluded he got as many material prizes out of the accords as he could).

On a side note, when the total number of people killed on both sides during the two intifadas was in the thousands, and the injured in the tens of thousands, IDK how anyone can claim that the call to "globalize the intifada" is anything other than a call for violence and death. The fact that this chant is coming from the same crowd that claims to be pro-peace when they demand a ceasefire now is truly deranged, and can only be rightly addressed with memes...

Sorry for the length, I guess it's still hard to process the inability of people to understand that sometimes, we don't want a war, but we do grasp that we have to fight one, even at the cost of possibly our own life or the lives of those dearest to us, even when it's bloody and nasty and hell, and civilian casualties are impossible to avoid thanks to Hamas' choice of using Gazans as human shields. I'm not sure if this helped, but I hope it somehow did! xoxox

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[i-can-even-burn-salad]

Author Ask Tag

What is the main lesson of your story? Why did you choose it?

Even if I had a lesson in mind, and I'm not saying I had, I would probably bite my tongue off before stating it on this beautiful website. Also, the people who actually read my stuff are not the ones who would need said hypothetical lesson. But mainly, I don't choose the story, the story chooses me.

What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding?

All my stories are set in the same world, because a) I dislike worldbuilding so I'm only doing that once and b) I like having little cameos of other characters. Said world was hugely inspired by video games, especially guild wars 2. Some things fit video games more than novels - somehow carrying too many coins than reasonably possible, bandits as soon as you leave a town, a made-up reason for a common language, and a continent that's honestly way too small, to name a few.

What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them? Do you want to inspire others, teach forgiveness, or help the reader grow as a person?

Well, my MC(s) just want to live a normal, peaceful life, despite all the horrors I chuck at them, and I want to cry a bit about said horrors and then watch them achieve their dreams. The thing I want most is for someone who usually doesn't see some aspects of themselves in fiction to recognize themselves, and for someone who feels as lonely and out of place as I do to find a bit of comfort.

How many chapters is your story going to have?

All of our Lives has 32 chapters, one of which is the prologue. I do not expect this to change.

Is it fanfiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it?

It's original content, and I will put it as ebook and pdf on my website, elli-scribbles.net. I used to post on Tumblr, but I am not happy with the loss of control that came with the new post editor, and there is some content I am most definitely not comfortable posting on any place I do not have full control over.

When did you start writing?

I started this draft at the beginning of May 2024, and I finished it just over 6 months later in the middle of November 2024. Taking my time with this one and aiming to have it done for release in May. I'm not gonna add yet another 'oh, always!!' here, because I can't remember shit, hence project specific, though I could pinpoint a "new start" in September 2021 when I started writing in English.

Do you have any words of encouragement for fellow writers of writeblr? What other writers do you follow?

If I am fully honest, I am not particularly encouraged myself. I haven't been in a good place in months, at any given moment I am five seconds away from bursting into tears, and I feel like one big failure. So uh: The internet is a scary place. Find a friend who matches your freak, stick them in your pocket, and don't ever let them go. Write for yourself only got me so far, I needed someone to scream with me.

Not tagging you to do this, just tagging you because I love you @starlit-hopes-and-dreams @pleasestaywithmedarling @alittlewhump @sarandipitywrites @little-peril-stories @honeycollectswhump @writingphoenix

You should also look at @leahnardo-da-veggie @whumpyreader @thoughtsonhurtandcomfort @befuddled-calico-whump @whump-me @lovelizards whose stuff I enjoyed recently and also ofc @the-inkwell-variable who mentioned me and @winterandwords whose open tag I stole :)