#grostesque

[nemfrog]

Unconventional striptease. Myographia nova, sive, Musculorum omnium. 1684.

Internet Archive

[grandpasauce]

brb channeling ancient powers to ensure solas gets a sexy giga boss battle in da4 where he turns into some big slutty pride demon-esque final boss monster shit

not like in a horny way I’d just think it would be neat but like definitely NOT in a horny way

[wewontbesleeping]

tiramisu is probably my ultimate favorite dessert, but I don’t know anyone else who really likes it (?????) so every time I go out and get one I have to eat the entire thing myself and it’s sooooo sad. sooooooooooo sad.

[shewolfofvilnius]

I truly don't think folks appreciate how big of a lore bomb dropped in Dragon Age the past couple of days in that video where everyone's fixated on Solas' (magnificent) hair. MAJOR Veilguard spoilers after the break:

Back in the day, Ghilan'nain's likely the one who weaponised the Blight in the first place on behalf of the Evanuris, and may or may not even be responsible for the creation of prototype Darkspawn (and we see she has her own 'unique' darkspawn in the game.)

Solas confronts her (then non-blighted) over it, and she rebuffs him, claiming it's part of her ascencion to godhood.

Ghilly weaponizing the Blight also all but confirms that yes, the 'darkness' that Andruil brought with her in past codex entries was definitely the blight.

And Solas seems to move a step closer in his plan to move against the Evanuris after a conversation with Ghilan'nain and the action he has to take immediately thereafter to stop it's most immediate danger.

**And since we know that Solas/Rook *free a blighted Ghilan'nain and Elgarnan* [**ghillie is WAY more grostesque of the two], we know that wherever he trapped them, likely the golden/black city, was already blighted when the Tevinter magisters got there. He would have HAD to have trapped the Blight with them, and it would have had to have gotten out at some point (Hi Coryphenus)

Which ALSO ALSO ALSO means that the 'sin' the Chantry teaches of, the blight, was already present in Elvhenan centuries before the magisters sidereal were glimmers in their parents' eyes (and before Tevinter would have worshipped the Old Gods [who are they?], which means we absolutely, for certain, know that at least a portion of the Chantry's version of events and origin of the Blight is wrong. And whoever The Maker is or isn't, they didn't have jack shit with the blackening of the Golden City, lining up with what Coryfish says about it already being blighted when he got there.

And that's JUST from the Solas' hair video.

[koshkamartell]

No One But Me

masterlist

previous

You woke up sweating and tangled in your bed sheets after another fitful sleep full of bad dreams that seemed so realistic. You had always suffered from the occasional nightmare, as every survivor did, but lately you had been plagued by them more often.

They were vivid dreams that always revolved around the deaths of your loved ones. Hordes of the infected, grostesque beings with faces mutilated by cordyceps, would chase you relentlessly through thick forests or abandoned towns. Sometimes Ellie was with you, sometimes your parents. The dreams always ended similarly, with one of you being caught and barbarically devoured.

Each dream was traumatic and so lifelike. But you found the worst ones to be the dreams involving Ellie. They seemed to be happening more and more lately. In the dreams you would both be running from the infected, your laboured breathing and the crunch of earth under your shoes loud in your ears. You were running so fast that it seemed like you were escaping from the mob after you and freedom was just on the horizon, so close and so tangible.

Then disaster would strike. Ellie would trip over and land heavily onto her chest, the fall knocking the wind out of her small body. You would scream at her to get up and try desperately to haul her back up on her feet. But she was so heavy, like a lead weight, and no matter how hard you tried you just couldn't lift her. She lay motionless with her big eyes staring up at you full of tears. You would be screaming and crying hysterically as the infected approached, their shrieks and screeches deafening in your ears.

You would look up to see the horrible creatures rushing toward you then you'd look back to Ellie. Except it wasn't Ellie staring back at you now. Her face had changed. Staring back at you now was you as a child, 12 years old and frightened out of your wits. Time stood still as you and your child self gazed at each other in anguished horror. You were paralysed. The screams would get louder as the horde closed in on you. You squeezed your eyes shut when they reached you and lunged at you. Then you were enveloped in black.

And that's when your conscience returns to the reality of living and you wake up in the safety of Joel's arms or alone in your bed, disorientated and close to hyperventilating. Having Joel's warm body enclosed around yours as he whispered soothingly during these moments of profound distress was a blessing. It was something that you missed on the nights he didn't stay with you and you startled awake. Truthfully, it was just about the only time you missed Joel these days.

It had been a week since you negotiated your return to your cottage. You reveled in the comfort of your home and the security of all its quirks and nooks; the squeak of the kitchen cupboard where the mugs were kept, the small watercolour painting that hung in your hallway, the missing tile in your shower alcove, the smell of your herbal teas on your kitchen windowsill.

Joel still visited most nights and slept in your bed, entangling you in his strong arms and long legs. He invaded all your senses at once; his sandalwood and pine scent filling your nostrils, his thick fingers sliding into your pussy, his plush lips pressing against your neck, his intense dark brown eyes gazing at your face full of desire. You still surrendered yourself to Joel but there was a niggling part deep inside your heart that wouldn't settle, that caused your body to instinctively flinch when he touched you or when he spoke.

Joel had been trying very hard to prove himself to you. He had been loving and gentle, affectionate and attentive. The sex was still amazing. He hadn't gotten angry or annoyed with you. Infact, Joel had changed so dramatically that you couldn't help a modicum of hateful resentment spiking deep inside you. Why had it taken him so long to change? After all the damage he had inflicted, why did he now try to be better? 

Joel had even uttered those three simple words that you had waited so long to hear. When you heard him say "I love you" for the first time you were left speechless. His voice echoed through your head for days to come. But that shock then morphed into indignation the longer you thought about what Joel had done. And then that softly spoken declaration of love dissipated completely, outweighed and replaced by the other things he had said.

Disrespectful little bitch.

Whore.

Slut.

The passion in his insults still stung. The phantom grip of his hands all over your body still haunted you. You were suffocated by his presence and had to retreat to your own safe space, not just physically but emotionally. And emotionally that safe space was Oscar.

Your weekly lunch date quickly became the highlight of your week. He never failed to show up, always with a meal and some fruit tucked in his satchel. That one hour of spent with Oscar was a blissful reprieve from the depressive spiral you had gradually been descending into. Just the sight of his smile was enough to pierce through the darkness smothering your existence, like a speck of guiding gold light offering hope.

Joel had snuffed the flame of your spirit, leaving you abandoned in darkness. But Oscar was the one whose hand had found yours, knitting his fingers through your own and offering you refuge in his light. It was he who gave you hope, a reason to strive against the oppression of Joel's dark side and the survivor's guilt and depression, a reason to want to be happy.

You still loved Joel. You are sure a part of you will always love him. But he cannot fix what he has broken inside you, no matter how dedicated he is in trying to repair the ruins between you. The more time passes, the clearer it becomes that you can no longer love him as you once did.

Oscar stands infront of the small mirror in his bathroom and runs a comb through his thick black hair. He hasn't shaved for the last three days and the stubble growing on his face is already prickly. He wonders if he should let it grow, if he looks better with a beard. He recalls the way you looked at him at the Tipsy Bison that night, the first time seeing him without the extra hair. Your eyes were twinkling with a mixture of something like intrigue and surprise, and what he believes - hopes - was a spark of attraction.

No, he decides. He will shave tomorrow.

Oscar splashes cold water on his face and brushes the sleep from his eyes. He doesn't take long to get ready for work, preferring to instead save enough time to eat a plate of scrambled eggs and have a cup of tea at a leisurely pace. He had spent far too many years on the brink of starvation to neglect his body's need for regular meals, and therefore he treats food with reverence. Once he's finished his breakfast Oscar washes his dishes and leaves the house for the stables.

On the walk there Oscar absorbs the sights and sounds around him. The snow on the trees lining the street look like powdered sugar, reminding Oscar of the donuts displayed in the window of the Jackson bakery. The sweet melody of chirping birds carries along the chilly breeze sweeping through the town, and the sounds feel like a warm morning greeting to Oscar. He stuffs his hands into his coat pockets and continues on his way, mentally preparing himself for the day ahead of him.

Joel is already at the stables when Oscar arrives. They greet each other and saddle their horses together, then go to the patrol post at the community gates to sign the log book and collect their rifles. Joel mounts his usual steed, a brown stallion named Tex, while Oscar hoists himself up onto his favourite mare, Misty. They trot through the massive gates of Jackson and set off on the well established route they have been assigned to.

Joel knows this route like the back of his hand. He doesn't need a map to navigate where they are going; he already knows what directions to take, every landmark that acts as a measurement of distance and time. The men settle into a companionable silence while they ride, and it isn't until an hour has passed that one of them says more than a handful of words.

"Tommy said Troy needed a week off," Oscar speaks up. "Is it his knee again?"

"It plays up in the cold," Joel grunts. "Gives him hell."

Like Joel, Troy had survived through many battles and escapades with both men and mutants, and he had the scars to prove it. Troy was younger and stronger than Joel, his body solidly built with more muscle and fat, but he was often plagued with aches and arthritis from old injuries. Joel empathised with Troy; his own back gave him much grief, the pain stemming all the way back to his contracting days.

"Check point is just up ahead," Joel announces. "We'll stop and survey the area, but I gotta piss first."

"Alright."

Less than half a mile away was a clearing that served as the first stopping point in the route. Joel and Oscar steer the horses to the glade and dismount them.  Oscar stands and stretches his arms up over his head, sighing contentedly, then looks out over the small valley below them. The land is blanketed with snow and dotted with patches of green shrubs and trees. The vast Wyoming land is encompassed by the formidable grey mountains that sit in the distance. Oscar soaks up the sight before him, speechless by the panorama for a few moments.

"This view is surreal," Oscar remarks reverently. "Beautiful, like a dream."

Joel cracks his neck and pulls off the sling of his rifle from over his shoulder. "Speakin' of dreams, you been havin' any more bad ones lately?"

"Not many, actually. Work's been so busy that I just about pass out when I get home. And...well...I guess I've just been a bit happier lately," Oscar replies with a light-hearted smile.

Joel huffs a laugh and takes hold of his rifle. "Yeah? Finally got yourself a woman, huh?" He bends down to set the gun to stand against a large rock.

"I don't wanna say too much but...yeah, there's kinda someone," Oscar says, bashful as he rubs the back of his neck.

Joel tethers Tex's reins to a branch of one of the nearby trees before pacing a few feet away to urinate. When he finishes and ambles back to Oscar and the horses Joel resumes the conversation.

"What's she like?" Joel asks as he reaches down and picks his rifle up once again. Oscar strokes Misty's muzzle, his back facing Joel.

"Well, she's a real sweetheart. Smart, loves to read. Really cares about others, you know what I mean? Like kids and old people."

Joel's breath catches in his throat and his hand immediately tightens around the handguard of his rifle. Is Oscar talking about you?

Have you been cheating on him?

No, you can't be. You love him, not Oscar.

You'd never do that. Oscar must be talking about some other woman.

Joel knows he needs to appear indifferent if he wants to find out more information; getting angry when he doesn't have any details would do more damage than good. Joel slings his rifle over his shoulder, then reaches into his pocket and fishes out his flask. He carries out these actions slowly as he thinks of how to respond.

How the hell is he supposed to ask Estrada if he's fucking his woman? And goddamnit, it's not like he would have known you belong to Joel.

Unless you told him. Did you?

In this moment Joel wants nothing more than to show Estrada and every single person in Jackson that you are his - perhaps in some grand sweeping display of dominance. But for now he has to focus on what he can do, which is interrogating the younger man without scaring him.

Joel takes a deep breath to help compose himself enough to carry on the conversation.  "Yeah? How long has somethin' been goin' on between you two?"

Oscar flips open his satchel and rummages around inside it for some of the jerky he always has stashed in one of the pockets. "We have been friends for a while now, but it isn't been anything more than just hanging out, you know?"

Hanging out.

Have you been seeing him since he left working at the library?

Where? Why?

Joel watches Oscar's every movement, every expression, searching for the sincerity in his words, any telltale sign of dishonesty. But Joel already knows that Oscar isn't the kind of man who lies or showboats.

"You ain't told her you got feelings?" Joel asks impassively.

"Not outrightly so. Not yet." Oscar responds with a sigh that clearly conveys his chagrin. "Guess I've been too chicken shit to do it."

Joel pops open the lid of the flask and takes a swig of scotch. The burn of it helps calms his nerves. "She feels the same, you reckon?"

Oscar locates the small bundle of jerky and pulls it from the satchel. "Well, I think so. She said I'm the only guy she is comfortable with. And she gives me these looks, like she wants more."

Joel pictures you standing infront of Oscar and flirting with him, shyly batting the lashes of your pretty eyes.  Those same eyes that used to gaze at him with so much passion when he fucked you senseless. Joel's belly clenches with white hot envy at the thought of Oscar being the subject of your adoration instead of himself.

He shuts the flask and shoves it back into his jacket pocket.

"But she's not the kind to make the first move." Oscar explains earnestly. "She's quiet, shy. Would rather get lost in a book than be the life of the party."

It is you.

Estrada is talking about you. That he has feelings for you and you probably reciprocate them, and that he's the only man you feel comfortable with.

Joel whips around to avoid Oscar's gaze. Flames of jealous fury lick up the nape of his neck and burn into the back of his eyes. His nostrils flare as his breathing speeds up, his heart pounding in his ears.

Are you fucking Estrada?

Are you going to leave him and end up with this weak piece of shit and let him be the one to fuck you and own you?

Both of Joel's fists are balled so tightly into themselves that the skin of his knuckles have turned white. It takes all of Joel's might and willpower to suppress the poisonous wrath coursing through his body. The primal, more reactionary part of Joel's brain says to shoot Oscar in the face instantly, and if Joel were in his younger raider years he would have splattered the man's brains out onto the dazzling white snow without a second thought.

He could easily dispose of Oscar's body somewhere in the vast expanse of forest land surrounding them, no trace of him left behind to ever to be found. Joel imagines being surrounded by a large group of townsfolk on his return and delivering the tragic news that his patrol partner died while out on a routine patrol route. Maybe Joel would say Oscar was viciously mauled by a clicker out of no where, or maybe raiders ambushed them and fatally shot him. No one would question the validity of Joel's version of Oscar's demise; why would he lie? And after all, Joel was one of the very best patrolmen in Jackson and he surely would've done everything he could to save Oscar.

But by some miracle Joel is narrowly able to restrain the impulse to murder Oscar. He reminds himself over and over that he must control his fury. Control, control, control. He consciously regulates his breathing, inhaling through his nose and then exhaling through his mouth. The anger seems to slowly dissolve and leech into Joel's blood stream, icy and venomous as it flows through his veins, no longer imminent in its threat but nonetheless still alive.

Joel immediately realises he has to do something about this friendship between you and Oscar. There is no way in hell that he will allow this to go on, and behind his back, no less. Before all this bullshit happened on Jackson's birthday, Joel would've stalked straight into that library to teach you a lesson; he would have marked you all over with his mouth and teeth and then he would have fucked all your holes.

But things are different now, and Joel has to find other ways to deal with the situation that's been presented to him. He needs to come up with a plan that will tear you and Oscar apart without implicating himself in the destruction.

When Joel remains quiet and does not show any response, Oscar shakes his head and let's out a sheepish groan. "Shit, sorry for boring you with this stuff, man. I don't tend to talk about this kinda thing with anyone, I guess it's all come rushing out."

"Hope it all works out for ya, man," Joel says gruffly with his back still facing Oscar. "Now let's get back on route."

"Thanks, man." Oscar calls out.

Joel's jaw ticks. He has found benefit in Tommy's advice of controlling his temper; the discipline allows Joel the ability to strategically plan, to contemplate different courses of action in order to gain an advantage in a situation. And if executed effectively, Joel knows the repercussions of those plans could destroy you and Oscar.

The next morning Joel arrived at the patrol post for his shift earlier than usual. He flipped through the pages of the large hardcover log book where each ranger recorded their name, the day, and the starting time and ending time of their shift.

The first lined column of the page detailed the week of the day and in the next was where the times were written. The following columns showed the rangers names and their signatures, as well as a space for comments and notes about that particular shift.

Joel scanned along the name column in search of Oscar's name. He discovered that on average Oscar was working patrol three days a week, always on Tuesday, Thursday and Friday. He also worked at the stables on Monday, Wednesday and Sunday, sometimes on the Saturday as well. Joel's tongue licked along the inside of his cheek as he contemplated what this meant.

If you and Oscar were spending time together, it would have to be during the day - night time would be impossible for you because you were with Joel or Ellie so often. Oscar wouldn't be able to see you during the day when he was on patrol, so that cancelled out Tuesday, Thursday and Friday. And you wouldn't be able to meet Oscar on the days you were at school without children and teachers gossiping. No, you needed more privacy than what the school environment was able to offer.

That left your library shifts. It made sense. It was the perfect place for more clandestine meetings and it was where you two had met. Joel's jaw clenched at the thought of you and Oscar alone together.

Joel deduced that the only day you worked there in which Oscar could possibly visit you was Wednesdays. 

Wednesday. Five days time.

Just enough time for Joel to make sure you stayed his.

That Saturday night Ellie came to Joel's for family dinner and movie night. Despite the limited range of movies available in Jackson, Ellie located a tape that neither of you had seen before. It was always exciting to watch a VHS movie on Joel's large analog television. It was an activity Joel and Ellie used to enjoy together, however it had become a rare occurrence in the last year or so that Ellie had become more independent and sociable. So although Joel grumbled about staying up late to watch a ridiculous movie, you knew he secretly loved the opportunity to spend time with Ellie in the comfort of the living room, snuggled by blankets and pillows and a big bowl of popcorn.

At dinner time the three of you sat at the dining table to eat the soup and freshly baked bread you had made that evening. As usual, Ellie was the centre of attention and was entertaining the two of you with stories of her work escapades and what her and her friends had gotten up to that week.

"Hey, you know that Oscar guy?" Ellie asks eagerly. "Works at the stables and does patrol?"

Your heart skips a beat to hear Oscar's name spoken and your head automatically turns to look at Ellie across the dining table. She grins and raises her eyebrows like she is dying to share some kind of secret with you both.

"Partnered on patrol with him this week," Joel replies casually before taking a fork full of potato into his mouth.

The throwaway comment surprises you and you momentarily freeze, your spoon stilling in the middle of scooping a spoonful of soup. The thought of Oscar and Joel working alongside one another makes you uneasy, like their proximity is a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. You haven't cheated on Joel but he doesn't know how close you and Oscar are or how profound your friendship is, and if Oscar were to somehow mention you then you're sure Joel would not be pleased.

"Well, Uncle Tommy said he'd show me how to throw an axe, just like the competition we saw!" Ellie exlaims enthusiatically, looking from you to Joel. "So he took me today and Oscar and that Matt guy tagged along and we had our own competition to see who was the best."

You secretly glance at Joel to gauge his reaction but he appears apathetic as he eats, shoulders hulking as he leans over his bowl, eyes trained on the soup before him.

"Uncle Tommy was bragging that he would kick their asses but then Oscar beat him like, three times in a row!" Ellie snickered, shaking her head at the fond memory. "It was fucking hilarious."

You picture Oscar gripping the heavy wooden handle of an axe, its blade sharp and glinting dangerously in the sunlight. You imagine the determined expression on his face as he eyes the target ahead, how his stance shifts into the best position for him to pull back and launch the weapon. You imagine his shirt sleeves rolled up to his biceps, revealing the olive skin of his forearms.

Oh, how you wished you could have been there.

Joel remains quiet and does not acknowledge Ellie's anecdote, so you muster a little smile and nod at her to show you've been listening. "That sounds like fun," you supply.

"Yeah it was. You guys should come watch next time." Ellie slurps some soup before turning her attention to Joel. "So do you and Oscar like, chill when you're not on patrol?"

"Nah," Joel grunts, not meeting Ellie's eyes. "I'm too busy workin'." He pauses for a few beats before adding, "and he's busy with some mystery woman alotta the time, forgot what he said her name was."

Your spoon drops from your hand and clatters down into your bowl with a sudden clang. No one notices and Ellie continues talking, but Joel's words ring in your ears.

Oscar has a woman...and they spend alot of time together.

Why had he never told you? Is that why he was so busy for all those weeks, is that why he didn't visit you in the library when he stopped working with you?

Tears prick at your eyes and threaten to spill over your lash line. You hurriedly blink them away and discreetly wipe your eyes with your sleeve.

You stupid, stupid girl.

You have no right to feel like that, your mind hisses. How can you feel betrayed when you've done exactly the same thing, seeing Joel without telling Oscar anything? Oscar has every right to be happy with someone else and it's none of your business.

And you know this well. You want Oscar to be happy in any way he can be. He deserves it. And if that happiness is found with another woman, one you know nothing about, then so be it. You should wish him good luck and be glad that he's got someone to share his life with.

But why did it have to work out like this? Why hadn't I met Oscar before Joel?

You nibble on the inside of your lip and try to quell the deluge of emotions and thoughts flooding your mind. You raise your head to look at Joel and find he's already staring at you. He looks handsome in the soft light of the dining room with his fluffy greying curls and his rich chocolate brown eyes sparkling at you. You offer him a tiny smile, disguising the hurt swirling around your heart. Joel's lips curl into a little smirk in return and he winks at you, then turns his attention back to Ellie's rambling.

You glance over to Ellie and watch her speak animatedly to Joel, marvelling at how her eyes glint with mischievous charm, how the corners of her mouth curve into her endearing smile, similar to her adoptive father. Oh, how your heart aches for Ellie. You need to focus on the family you've created with Joel and Ellie, this precious piece of life that you have been given. It's what you've always wanted, after all. And now you have it, you cannot throw it away.

The following Tuesday morning Joel paid a visit to Tommy at his home. Maria had already left the house for the day to get an early start on the tasks assigned to her by the committee, which suited Joel fine. He never felt completely comfortable being around Maria. He always felt like she was judging his every word and action. Joel sensed it in the way she watched him like a hawk whenever he played with her and Tommy's two children, or how she seemed to incessantly quiz he and Ellie during every family dinner they attended.

Nosey bitch, Joel thought.

But this morning Joel was thankful to be able to relax without Maria lurking by. The brothers chatted in the kitchen as Tommy stood at the stove frying a pan full of eggs and strips of bacon. Joel leaned against the kitchen counter next to him and sipped on the slightly bitter black coffee Tommy had made.

"I tell ya, won't be long til Ellie gets the hang of that axe," Tommy chuckled. "Better watch out, big brother."

"Anyone gets hurt and you're responsible," Joel grumbled good naturedly. He slurped a mouthful of coffee and scratched the scruff along the side of his jaw.

"Deal," Tommy smirked and poked the sizzling bacon with the spatula in his hand. "So, how's everythin' goin' with your lady? She forgiven you yet?"

Joel rolled his eyes and shifted his weight on his feet, obviously uncomfortable with Tommy's candour. "Better. But I gotta favour to ask you."

Tommy glanced at Joel and raised his eyebrows. "What can I do for ya?"

"Need to swap my Wednesday shift," Joel said before taking another sip, purposely avoiding Tommy's gaze.

Tommy sighed and flipped one of the eggs in the pan. "Already had Troy off last week. It's been hard gettin' shifts filled lately, you know how sickness goes around."

"Yeah I know, but Tommy, I need tomorrow free," Joel explained firmly. "I'll owe ya one."

Tommy hummed thoughtfully. "You gonna tell me what's goin' on?"

Joel placed his coffee mug down on the kitchen counter. "Just wanna spend some time with her, that's all. Tryin' to change for the better, like ya said."

Tommy smiled to himself, seemingly pleased that his brother had listened to his advice. "Joel Miller, a romantic," he mused teasingly.

"Shut up," Joel muttered. "Now will ya cover me or what?"

Tommy nodded. "Yeah, okay. But I can't do a double shift - Maria would kill me."

"So ask someone else," Joel shrugged. He tried to appear like he was sincerely thinking of different suggestions for who might be available. "Well, who ain't rostered on Wednesdays? What about...Harry? Or....or Estrada?"

Joel knew Harry was already working at the blacksmith sheds tomorrow and wouldn't be able to swap onto a patrol shift. Joel also knew full well that Oscar was at the stables and would easily be able to fill in.

Tommy smoothed his moustache with his thumb and forefinger and clicked his tongue. "I reckon Oscar might be able to."

And there we go, Joel thought smugly as a triumphant glow spread wide across his chest. So fuckin' easy.

He clapped his hand on Tommy's shoulder. "Look, leave it with me, I'll go arrange it with him. Save you the trouble."

"Good," Tommy laughed and nodded along. He turned off the burner on the stove and gave his brother a wry grin. "Cos I don't need anymore headaches, asshole. Now get the plates and let's eat."

It was your day at the library and also the day of your weekly lunch date with Oscar. You were nervous to see him, having spent the last few days contemplating if you should bring up the question of whether or not he was now seeing someone.

It is not your business, you kept reminding yourself, you need to let it go.

Each week on Wednesday, like clockwork, Oscar arrived at the library at noon. But today he didn't come strolling through the door at the expected time. You watched the clock intently as the minutes progressed. When he still hadn't shown by 12.15pm you reasoned that there must be a mountain of work to do at the stables and he's just running a little late. You continued to wait patiently, still taring at the ticking hands of the clock on the wall opposite where you stood.

At 12.30pm you began to panic. Perhaps something had happened to Oscar. What if there had been an accident at the stables? Or maybe Oscar was sick? But then you remembered Joel's revelation at dinner last week and his words rang in your ears like a jeering jingle.

"He's busy with some mystery woman alotta the time."

You couldn't help the taunting feeling of rejection that came creeping into your mind. What if Oscar had stood you up to go see this woman instead? What if he had forgotten about you? You shook your head to rid yourself of the intrusive thoughts but as the minutes passed by excruciatingly slow, your spirit sunk lower and lower into the pit of your stomach.

When he hadn't shown up by 1.30pm all you wanted to do was go home and curl up in bed to wallow in your sorrow.

Then the door bell jingled. Your head quickly snapped toward the door.

But it wasn't Oscar who had finally arrived. Instead, you were met by the sight of Joel purposefully striding into the library with a satisfied grin on his face. His hair was slicked back, fresh from the shower, and he wore a black long sleeved shirt underneath his Carhartt jacket. You were even more unnerved by how gorgeous he looked.

"J-Joel?" You stuttered, completely dumbfounded. You couldn't even remember the last time Joel had been inside the library.

"Hey, baby," Joel drawled silkily as he approached you.

"H-hi," You mumbled dumbly, still awestruck by his presence.

Joel wrapped an arm around your waist and gathered you into his broad chest, his other hand coming up to cradle the side of your face tenderly in his palm. He tilted your face up at him while he stared down at you with a loving adoration in his gaze. Your tummy fluttered with nervous excitement, then Joel bent his head to kiss you softly on the mouth.

The smell of soap mixed with Joel's scent engulfed your nostrils as you surrendered to the kiss. His tongue slipped into your mouth and lapped at your own in slow rolling strokes, making you moan softly. Joel squeezed your waist and you reached up to run your fingers through his hair.

You forced Oscar from your mind. You had to, otherwise the pain of disappointment would be too much.

Joel continued to sensually kiss you and your whole body wilted into his strong chest. The familiarity of his warm body enveloping you somehow felt simultaneously comfortable and tantalising, so simple yet so arousing.

Maybe I do belong here, you randomly mused.

When you felt the thick press of Joel's hardened dick against you it caused an involuntary lustful stirring inside your belly. You soon forgot about Oscar and all you could focus on was Joel. The minty taste of his saliva with a hint of coffee. The light tickle of his moustache on your lips. The wide expanse of his palm cupping your face. How his aquiline nose fit so perfectly against your face.

Your clit throbbed with desire. You couldn't resist the way your body responded to him any longer. You were about to grind your pelvis against Joel's crotch when he gently pulled away from the kiss.

"Wait," you whined, confused and frustrated.

Joel stroked his thumb over your cheekbone as he looked down at you, smirking with cocky satisfaction. "Now babydoll, before we get carried away here, I got somethin' for you."

"Uhm, okay," you whispered, uncertain what to expect.

Joel released you from his grasp and took a step backward. You watched, intrigued, as he reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved a white handkerchief folded into a small square. It had a delicate lace trimming along its edges.

"Open your hand," Joel instructed you softly. You obediantly held out your hand with your palm facing up and Joel carefully placed the handkerchief onto it.

"What is it?" You asked, your eyes flickering up to look at Joel uncertainly.

"Open and see," he said with a nod to your hand.

You carefully unfurled the pretty white material in your hand and found a delicate gold chain curled in the middle. You gasped. It was the necklace from the shoebox you had found while snooping through Joel's possessions. You swallowed and reminded yourself to act surprised in order not to raise Joel's suspicions.

You held up the necklace to study it closer and noticed just how pretty the attached jewel pendant was. As you dangled it infront of you the light reflected off the jewel, causing it to twinkle mesmerically. You hadn't remembered it being so attractive when you briefly spied it in the shoebox. Now that you held it close, you could appreciate just how beautiful it was.

"Wow," you breathed, eyes fixated on the piece of jewellery.  "Wow...this is amazing, Joel."

"Just for you, baby," Joel murmered. "You like it?"

You couldn't help giving him a shy little smile. "I do," you whispered truthfully. "Thank you."

Joel smiled back at you and leaned in to press a chaste kiss on your forehead. He watched the delight in your expression as you examined the necklace, pride bursting inside his heart at being the one to make you smile.

Joel ended up staying with you at the library for a while to keep you company and browse through some of the book titles. When a horde of noisy school children came barging in through the door, you looked at him and laughed, knowing that he would make a hasty escape.

As Joel was about to walk out the door he spied a folded piece of paper peeking out from under the welcome mat just inside the entrance. He discreetly bent down and picked it up before stalking away towards home.

Back at his house Joel made sure to tear up the paper into tiny irretrievable pieces. He needed to make sure that you could never read the apologetic note Oscar had written. He must have slipped under the library door before his patrol shift earlier that morning, Joel presumed.

It is busy in the mess hall that night. It's close to 8pm, the latter part of the dinner shift, so the families and children have already eaten and are now home, tucked up safe and warm in their beds. Most of the residents occupying the mess hall now are workers who began later in the day, such as the afternoon labourers that took over from the morning crews.

You and Rhi sit at one of the smaller tables amongst the throng of diners and pick at the food on your plates. You listen to her impassioned report about why her supervisor is a control freak, how the sewing machines at the haberdashery need maintenance but no one listens to her, and that she is sick of being condescended to because of her age. You nod along sympathetically. Although Rhi can be obstinate at times, you know she's a dedicated seamstress who takes her craft seriously and you dislike seeing her be treated so unfairly.

Joel is already seated and eating dinner with Troy, Tommy, Harry and Oscar. His gaze fell upon you the moment you walked into the mess hall and he found himself furtively glancing your way every so often. He only half listens to the trivial conversation going on around him, not really interested in the bantering and amicable debates the other patrolmen liked to engage in.

Joel wasn't the only one to notice your presence, though. He clocked the way Oscar's head turned in your direction and the way his back straightened when he spied you. Oscar wasn't adept at disguising his feelings very well, Joel had come to learn. He could see the yearning on Oscar's face as clear as day.

Christ, the bastard had really fallen for you.

Sometime later, when the men had almost finished eating their meal, Tommy excuses himself and disappeares to the kitchen. Joel lazily picks at his teeth with a toothpick and observes you and Rhi.

Damn, you're so beautiful, especially when you're so unaware that you're being watched, he thinks.

Tommy returns a minute later and throws a conspiratorial wink at his older brother as he sits back down at the table. Joel leans back in his chair and folds his arms and patiently waits to see his plan unfold.

It's only another minute before a woman approaches their table and shyly clears her throat. The men look at her expectantly but she seems to zero in on Oscar.

"Excuse me," she speaks, voice silky and polite. "Oscar, I was wondering if I could have a word?"

Oscar raises an eyebrow at the woman. "Me?" He asks her, confounded.

She nods coyly and hitches a thumb over her shoulder. "Maybe over this way, for a bit of privacy?"

The patrolmen give each other teasing smirks while Oscar stands up and follows the woman. Their eyes watch Oscar and the woman as they walk to an unoccupied space a few tables away and stand to talk.

"Whose she? What's that all about?" Harry pipes up.

"Tryin' my hand at a bit of matchmakin'," Tommy answers with a cheeky grin. "Joel figures we should get him set up with someone."

"Why, Joel Miller," Troy laughs heartily. "Regular ol' cupid, huh?"

Joel rolls his eyes and mutters. "Shut the fuck up."

The men all laugh and glance back over at Oscar.

It is in the same moment that you catch sight of Oscar for the first time tonight. Seeing his face sends a shameful pang of dejection spearing into your heart. He stood you up and now here he is without a care in the world. He doesn't appear to be injured or unwell, either. Infact he looks really good.

And he's also with a woman.

You swallow thickly.

This must be the mystery woman.

You watch them intently and realise you recognise who she is. Her name is Gayle. You had known her from your time on cleaning and food prep duty. Gayle was a friendly woman and easy to talk to. She was also beautiful, with long blonde hair and light blue eyes and a wide smile. She was probably around Oscar's age, perhaps even a bit older.

You watch the interaction from where you sit, hating the wretched bubbles of envy simmering in your guts. Oscar is facing away from you but you have a clear view of Gayle and the bright smile plastered on her face, aswell as the enthusiasm in her body language. You wish you could hear their conversation and what he's saying to her.

It doesn't matter, though. The scene is too much for you to bear. It hurts to see him but it hurts your heart even more to see him with another woman.

You're such an idiot.

You quickly mumble to Rhi that you are done eating and want to go home. Rhi feels the same. When you both stand up to leave the table you are suddenly blockaded by three men. They stand tall infront of you with their arms crossed, exuding an intimidating air of arrogance. They leer at you and Rhi with taunting smirks carved on their faces.

"Hey babe, where'd you disappear to?" The blonde ranger chuckles to Rhi.

Oh, this must be that asshole who touched her.

"Anywhere you wouldn't be, apparently." Rhi spits back. "Get out of our way, Beau."

He shakes his head and grins down at her. "Nah, I want another chance. What do you say, baby? Ya didn't even let me get a proper turn."

Rhi growls and stabs her forefinger into his chest. "Listen here, dickface. I don't want anything to do with you, so fuck off."

The three of them snicker. The Beau tuts at Rhi leans closer to her face, now completely invading your space. "Maybe I'll just have to fuck your little friend here, then she can tell you what you're missing out on."

Suddenly you're aware of the loud thud of boots stomping against the floor, but before your mind can register what's happening, Joel's meaty hand grabs onto Beau's shoulder and wrenches him backwards. He stumbles.

"What the fuck?"

Joel shoulders himself past the men and stands himself past the men and stands beside you and Rhi.

"Think the ladies made themselves clear the first time, boys," Joel barks. "They ain't interested."

The young men seem to recognise Joel and the obnoxious smirks fall from their faces immediately. One of the dark haired men visibly loses all his confidence and shuffles back a few steps away from Joel and his friends. Beau is clearly the ring leader of the group as he remains standing where he is, chest puffed out and glowering petulantly between Joel and Rhi.

"She's being a tease," the blonde ranger argues back indignantly "Flirts with me from across the room and then acts like a bitch when I try talk to her!"

Rhi scoffs loudly and rolls her eyes. "Yeah right, Beau."

You glance up at Joel to see his steely gaze pinned to the young man, his furrowed brows and clenching jaw signalling his aggravation. Beau was almost as tall as Joel but no where near as imposing in strength and presence. He looked foolish standing infront of Joel trying to justify himself. The hall has fallen silent and everyone has turned to watch the confrontation unfold before them.

"That should tell ya she ain't interested." Joel said through gritted teeth.

"Well, her friend hasn't said anything," the other ranger quips, gesturing to you. "You don't speak for both of them."

A seething wrath blazes in Joel's eyes when the arrogant words fall from the young man's mouth. The air is uncomfortably thick with tension. You shuffle backwards a little and press against Rhi's side and, sensing your unease, she slips her arm around your side.

"Matter of fact, I do. And she ain't interested, either. Now get the fuck outta here before I break your jaw." Joel growls.

Joel steps closer to the younger men, challenging them to dare defy him. You swear you can feel the collective suspense of the townsfolk all around you. Your heart beat pounds in your ears as your eyes darting back and forth between Joel and the others.

All the self assured macho arrogance drains from the three men's faces at the threat of Joel Miller beating the shit out of them. Their shoulders slump in defeat and then they begin to walk away, scoffing and sneering as they leave, their anger at being rejected now exacerbated by their humiliation. One of them mutters "whatever, man" under his breath and Beau glares at Rhi. She sticks her middle finger up at him.

"You okay?" Joel asks.

He's addressing both you and Rhi but his soulful brown eyes are trained solely on you. His brows are furrowed with worry. You stare back up at him and nod, dumbstruck by such a public display of his concern.

"Yeah, thanks for that, Joel." Rhi answers with a smile. "I reckon they won't be a problem anymore."

Joel glances at her and nods curtly, then looks back to you. You feel captivated by the expressive beauty of his features, like how his mouth parts ever so slightly, as if he is breathless, and the almost sorrowful way his gaze roams all over your face. There is no trace of anger reflected in Joel now, only a gentle protectiveness that makes your tummy feel fluttery. The intimacy of the moment between you and Joel makes you forget about the rest of the townsfolk surrounding you. You feel the sudden urge to kiss him.

"Can I walk you home?" Joel asks you, his voice soft but gravelly.

"Yes, please," you whisper back.

"Strong and chivalrous. I guess you'll be safe without me," Rhi chuckles as she slips her arm from around your waist. "Go have fun."

You flash a shy smile at her and she gives you an enthusiastic nod of encouragement. Joel steps aside and holds his arm out, gesturing for you to stand and walk next to him. You sidle up beside Joel and feel his hand come to rest possessively on your lower back. The magnitude of this exhibition is profound - no one has ever witnessed Joel Miller actually touch a woman before, and doing so with such reverence and familiarity. It is a statement, a declaration. Joel has claimed you.

He escorts you through the mess hall to up to the door.

"Come on baby, let's go home," he murmers close to your ear.

He pushes open the door and pulls you close against him in order to squeeze through the threshold together, and you giggle.

You don't look behind you, not even to check if everyone is still watching you (which they are). You don't see Rhi proudly grinning after you, or Tommy smirking quietly to himself. You don't see Oscar or his crestfallen expression, or how his orbs swim with woeful disappointment to see you walk away with another man.

taglist - @sofiparallel @harriedandharassed @kewwrites @romanarose @fan-fiction-floozy @anoverwhelmingdin @unknownsuser101 @shesarealcarpentersdream @sheeeeeppp @uncassettodiricordi @axshadows @puduvallee @gossipgirl-03 @mandoloriancookie @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff

[whumptober]

In Animorphs, morphing is really grostesque and disturbing, does that count as body horror?

I'm not that familiar with the fandom, but with the description you've given, that sounds like it could count

[yanderes-galore]

hello I was wondering if I could request yandere Michael Afton (before the scoop if thats ok) with prompts 12 and 43 if that's OK?

Sure! This was the plot picked by that Michael Afton poll I did awhile back. Sorry the plot was a bit rushed... I got really stuck with writing this.

Here's Michael giving into his Afton roots.

Yandere! Michael Afton Prompts 12 + 43

"You were never meant to see that! Oh, what have I done...."

"Won't you be a good pet for me?"

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Childhood trauma, Poor mental health, Obsession, Murder/Mass murder, Jealousy implied, Forced relationship, Blood, Grostesque descriptions, Michael becomes another William.

After his life went downhill, Michael didn't have many friends. His childhood still haunts him... part of him feels lilke it's his fault... part of him blames his father.

You never knew his pain. You never knew his family's sins. However... you act like you understand him.

You saw Michael as a kid with a troubled past, one you've been friends with since childhood. You've heard tales of what his father's done. Terrible stories of murders and losses....

There was the time Michael's brother was thrown into an animatronic's mouth, there was the time his sister was violently mauled by another. Then there were the countless murders caused by Michael's father himself.

You'd think stories like this would make you scared of Michael. No... it didn't. Naive child that you were you stuck with him.

You'd never bring up his father. His family was always a touchy subject. You always kept chats away from his personal home life.

If he was feeling down, scared about more misfortune coming to him, you'd comfort him. You always told him things would be different. You weren't scared of him, he's different than his dad!

That's what you thought... surely he could overcome such trauma...

Yet his dad had more of an effect on him than you thought when you were younger.

You were probably the one thing keeping Michael from breaking down when he was younger. Perhaps Michael was always meant to be some sort of murderer. Ever since Fredbear's his path was set, wasn't it?

But that was a mistake, he could move on, couldn't he?

What a hopeful thought.

He's the son of a murderer... he was always meant to be a killer.

It had been years since you saw Michael again. He had his own problems to deal with, you had yours. You just hoped he eventually got help... although last you heard his father had gone missing.

When you eventually see him again it's by accident. You wanted to revisit your old town with a friend. Hell, you wanted to be a kid again and see that old Freddy Fazbear pizzeria if it was still around.

That's when you met with Michael, your old friend now an adult and quite surprised to see you. He appeared even more surprised at your new friend.

Was he replaced once you left?

Old friends meet new friends and you chat for hours. Michael soon realizes how much he's missed your voice... your face... you. He could never seem to forget you despite what he's gone through. Soon the unspoken question between you eventually comes up...

How long will you be staying?

The moment you say a week to visit your parents with your... friend, Michael's giddy. A week is all he needs. After all... you've tormented his mind for years since you left.

It's about time he did something about it.

You wondered if Michael deteriorated when you left the town for a fresh start. Perhaps you really were what was holding him together. Was the damage caused by his family even fixable?

Michael should've expected this to happen. He's killed before, while that was an accident, was it really a surprise that he's killed again? His father would've praised him...

He's a bloody animal... someone who truly caved and gave into his roots.

"You were never meant to see that! Oh, what have I done...."

He isn't even sure why he said that. What else was he supposed to say with you standing right there? He's sloppy... he isn't skilled.

How was he supposed to hide the blood quickly staining your old childhood home? What about the bodies? He wasn't thinking things through...

Yet it's over. Now... you're just like him, aren't you?

Broken... with no one else to care for you... except him, of course.

He isn't sure why... but when he sees you scream and cry, he smiles. Did he like your suffering? Maybe he was just happy he got what he wanted?

You... by doing what he did he now has you.

You don't move. You can only stand like prey in front of a predator. Blood reaches your feet... the smell of a slaughterhouse floods your nose. This couldn't be Michael....

Deep down... maybe you should've seen it coming.

You're the one who befriended a monster.

When Michael stands up, to comfort or taunt you who knows, you shuffle away. Part of him... one rooted deep in his mind... finds it cute. Blood covers you both, a blade still coated in meat firmly in his grasp.

The meat of your loved ones.

"You look so pretty when you cry...." Michael whispers softly, quickly cornering you. You flinch when he holds up a knife, admiring the bloody reflection caused by the metal. His eyes then snap to you, devoid of anything human. "For the record, love, you knew nothing about me back then.... That's okay, now you truly understand how I felt...."

A bloody hand touches your cheek in an uncharacteristically loving matter. He grins with a hum but you can only cry.

"Now that you're mine... Won't you be a good pet for me?"

[looses-gooses]

I read a collection of horror Yeehan/Mchanzo fics (they were for a zine pre-name change but the zine got cancelled) and i genuinely haven’t been able to stop thinking about some of them.

I can’t tell if it was because they were good or because of how grostesque they could be😭

[magnoliamyrrh]

in romanian human trafficking and sex trafficking in particular is often refferred to as "the trafficking of living flesh/meat" and as grostesque as that is i straight up find it less offensive than calling sex trafficking victims and especially kids shit like sex workers or underage sex workers or whatever the hell. its grotesque and dehumanizing but swear at least it gets across that it is indeed,, grotesue and dehumanizing

[vincentpriceofficial]

the emotion I always feel in the moment about Louis not letting Armand eat Daniel even though he really wants to can only be describes as the counterpart to “Armand is so kind ❤️”. Like, [fully aware what I’m about to say is absurd grostesque and deranged] Louis is so mean 💔

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

🕯️ 🦋 🦴~ 🫡🫰🏻

🕯️ ⇢ on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that?

It slides around depending on my mood but generally, I do enjoy editing my drafts! It gives me the opportunity to change sentences around so it comes across clearer and I can fix the dialogue if it sounds odd. I’m awful at checking for spelling or grammar mistakes though, RIP. On bad days, arck...it is so tedious...(TT ~ TT)

🦋 ⇢ share something that has been on your heart and mind lately 

Omegaverse, LMAO. My discord server has seen the little seeds of me getting more and more into wanting to write an omegaverse fic. Other then that, IRL stuff is definitely on my mind 🥹 The top one is infections.

I’m always paranoid about getting wounds infected because I have a fear of pus and maggots so having stitches is my worst fear 😭 I recently took the stitches out but I’m so paranoid about it getting infected or a bug sneaking in aRCK 😵‍💫

🦴 ⇢ is there a piece of media that inspires your writing? 

Bridgerton. Not even joking. I did not watch it when it came out but seeing that eyebrow scene all over my TikTok FYP made me immediately binge it.

I’m in love with the expressions the actors did and I think about the framing of the cameras 24/7. It’s probably why in my writings, I obsess a bit over how a character's eyebrows are sloped/pinched/furrowed, LMAO.

Other than that, but in a similar vein, animated shows/movies. Every frame being intentional makes the character's flow, movements, and expressions just so appealing to me. Same goes for comics/manga/manwhas!

Also! Also! Grotesque by Natsuo Kirino and Snakes and Earrings by Hitomi Kanehara!

They were my first “big boy” novels and I borrowed them right from my mom’s bookshelves and I fell in love with how they wrote. My mom even gave me her book Grostesque as a gift because of how often I’d reread it, lmao. They heavily inspire and influence my writing a lot!

[scourge-lover]

Rules of the Scourge

Falric strutted mechanically in front of the war table, looking every bit the captain that he was. Only he was not here to instruct a band of soldiers. Seated at the table were Sapphire, Ethan and Chompers. Children.

Sapphire sat in between Ethan and Chompers, the only one who knew what Falric was going to be lecturing them about. Her whole life centered around the Scourge. Yet still, Falric felt it necessary to reiterate basic rules.

At least he was not wearing his intimidating plate armor, which had crusted blood and gore on it constantly. He wore simpler leather armor he used for sparring with whoever dared offer.

"The Scourge is a tight knit operation. Sapphire was the only child that ever roamed these halls and was hard enough to deal with."

Sapphire sighed audibly, garnering a sharp look from the deathknight. He approached the trio and loomed over Sapphire menacingly.

"You are WELL aware of what kind of trouble you can get into."

She looked away and folded her arms with impudence. With a grunt, Falric started his long tangent. Ethan listened eagerly. Chompers chewed on her own toes.

"Avoid the Crimson Halls at ALL costs." This one was directed at Sapphire the most, but she didn't need the warning. Three near death experiences were enough.

"Keep out of a lich's way but be respectable if one desires to speak to you for any reason."

"Do not touch any glowing liquids or breathe any suspicious fumes! See a vial, bottle, cauldron or other receptacle? Keep away from it."

"No sleeping outside of designated rooms. A ghoul might think you are a snack."

Ethan's skin had paled as he listened fervently to Falric's rant.

"If you must go outside, Marwyn and I will escort you. Wear warm clothes at all times."

"If you experience any mild loss of sensation or the feeling of pins and needles in any of your extremities. Those are mild symptoms of frostbite."

"Report any symptoms in fact. You're living creatures surrounded by walking corpses. Sapphire has all of her immunizations."

The man then glanced down at Chompers briefly. "Let us hope that our inoculations work on gnolls."

Ethan looked even more worried, but said nothing. Chompers was completely oblivious to everything being said. She liked the taste of her paw pads better.

Falric yanked a rough sack from his belt and started to pull out its contents. Gold glinted against dark metal that had been shaped into grostesque and detailed images of skulls. One was more elegant than the others. Falric handed the two less ornate ones to Chompers and to Ethan.

"These are your Scourgestones. You know what a hearthstone is right? Same concept, only these let the Lich King know where you are at all times and he can speak with you nearly anywhere on Azeroth. Keep it somewhere on your person at all times, even when sleeping!"

Ethan immediately put his in his pocket and helped Chompers with securing hers on her little belt. The Scourgestone was a little big for her, which caused Falric to frown.

"Marwyn!" He called out to his husband, who had been speaking to some cultists at the other end of the room. Marwyn turned inquistively. Falric pointed at the tiny gnoll.

"We might need an alternative scourgestone for the shrimp, love."

Marwyn looked at the tiny gnoll struggling with the large stone and smirked. "Yeah, I can see that."

With that, Falric handed the last Scourgestone to Sapphire. She saw that it was the one with gold. To her great delight, it was one of the nicest Scourgestones she'd seen. The skull looked so realistic and made of pure gold. Someone had taken care to keep it clean and polished.

She snatched it with a loud squeal. "This is mine?"

"Don't lose it like the last one," Falric growled. Sapphire jumped up and down happily.

"I won't!" She responded eagerly.

[jakethesequel]

I've been binging The Boys off my dad's account recently and having read the original comics like any self-respecting edgy teenager, I can see why people say the show is an improvement over the comics so fucking often. It's a pretty addictive show and does a good job adapting the broad-strokes storyline to a new medium, a new decade, and a new audience. Only slightly disappointed they haven't done the all-black-trenchcoats uniform look from the comics yet, hopefully they're saving that for a big moment in a later season. And thank God they gave Kimiko an actual name and way to communicate.

Cw for mentions of all the kind of shit that happens in The Boys, in case you don't want to read about that on a nice Wednesday afternoon. (Meaning: sexual abuse and excessive violence.) Also, long.

The political aspect is often sharper than you'd really expect from an Amazon product, too. It's not gonna start a socialist critique of the political economy or call for revolution anytime soon, but the commentary on the relationship between mass media (Vought), original and/or neo- Nazism (Stormfront), and neoconservativism (Homelander) is pretty well-done for a show mostly about superpowered violence. My one gripe is that the political commentary doesn't have that Ennis-brand bite to it that the comics have, the evil is a bit less in-your-face and gratuitous (and even the heroes are a slightly lighter shade of grey, like 75% from 90). Might be a surprising thing for me to say about a show that loves head-exploding effects even more than Scanners, but this is in comparison to Ennis writing any rich or powerful character as being one or more of: a serial rapist, a pedophile, a child murderer (I guess the show has this but we're told it was an accident where Ennis would have done it on purpose), a perverted serial killer, etc etc etc. On one hand, you could argue this gives the show villains that feel more realistic and less outlandish; but on the other, it's really missing the viscerally palpable disgust and disdain Ennis displays for the upper crust. That said, as much as I like the way Ennis displays the bourgeois as grostesquely evil, I'm more than happy to give it up if it means we can avoid the habit of violently transmisogynistic caricatures he always includes in his work.

There is a couple places where the political commentary does fall short compared to the comics, though. Particularly when it comes to criticizing the military and to criticizing monopolized corporate control of the media. Now granted, both the show and comic Boys work for a CIA contract to different extents, but because almost everyone in the comics is a bit more of a dickhead than in the show, the CIA likewise doesn't come off as clean. Not that the show is entirely unwilling to have the CIA and the US government suck, in both versions it stays an alliance of convenience between the Boys and the CIA against the temporarily greater common enemy in Vought, but the comics are just a little bit more willing to show that the CIA have themselves done indefensible and unforgivable things. In the show they tend to come off more sanitized Jack Reacher types, doing morally gray things for morally good reasons, instead of the more true-to-life morally dark things for morally dark reasons. The third season gets a little closer by mentioning Iran-Contra and the CIA crack smuggling in Black neighborhoods, but that's still just "accurately showing historical events the CIA was in" rather than the comics' "coming up with new horrible shit just to remind you the CIA's no good."

Now, as for the monopolized corporate control of the media. There's two levels to this, as I see it. There's the ways in which the show has been limited in criticizing the mass media on its own merits; and then there's the ways in which the show's criticisms of the mass media differ in content and direction from the comics. For the former, there's obviously a big elephant in the room: Amazon. The Boys show clearly wants to criticize the ways in which mass media influences our view of world events, and its central villain even moreso than Homelander is their world's largest and richest company, Vought International. But you can obviously only criticize the actions of a fictional megacorporation so much when your show is produced by one of the real world's top five megacorporations. So thus far the show's commentary has focused it's most pointed criticisms at stuff like social media, news media, religious influencers, and daytime TV (like talk shows, reality shows, etc). Those criticisms have been very good, especially the social media stuff and the stochastic terrorism induced by Stormfront, but I do notice that the areas they focus on are never really areas Amazon has a lot of money invested. While there have been spoofs about streaming services -- and I really enjoy all the in-universe media the cast and crew have put together to sell the illusion of this massive media franchise, it makes the show's internal history feel really lived-in -- I find that it has more of a wink-and-nudge self-deprecating vibe rather than the pointed criticism other media gets. The Prime analogue gets the harmless goofy Seven movies, the real pernicious media manipulation moments happen more often on livestreams or news broadcasts. Part of this might just be a difference in style: the Supes are shown to be more brash and unpredictable opportunists while Vought themselves are patient and surreptitious manipulators, but then Vought's big moves are also announced via press conference more often than not. I don't mean to act like they never criticize Vought's ersatz Amazon Prime, though. It is shown to be a shitty, erratic place to work full of impossible to placate alpha personalities that mainly makes propaganda for evil and powerful people. There might be something to be said about Amazon also being run by impossible to placate alpha personalities and Prime Video acting as propaganda for evil and powerful people. But on the other hand, all the Vought employees tend to be either actually evil, helplessly idiotic sycophants, or nameless grunts. I'd be more impressed if they had the stones to show, say, Vought Video employees threatened by laser to work crunch time, or Vought warehouse workers made to smuggle Compound V. Maybe I shouldn't go too hard on them, they are doing a lot more than other shows, but I always get the vibe that there's a line they keep toeing but can't cross because of corporate.

That segues nicely into the latter way, how the show's criticism of media differs from the comics. Obviously, the comics have a lot more freedom of speech as a creator-owned series under an indie publisher than as a megacorporation's high-budget production. But there's an even bigger difference at their core direction, and I think it's the biggest loss in the transition from page to screen. The Boys (show) values using its evil supes as an exaggerated analogy for political power and celebrity culture, in addition to the "power corrupts and superpowers would be more likely to fuck you up than make you a hero" central message that it shares with the comics. In contrast, while The Boys (comics) does also share that central message, and also talked about political power and celebrity culture, what it values most is using its evil supes as an exaggerated analogy to criticise pre-existing superhero comics and narratives. It was in direct dialogue and in direct opposition to the existing highly duopolized corporate superhero comics industry. The Boys (show) isn't nearly as interested in being in direct dialogue with the MCU or DC cinematic universe. Honestly I think this is the main reason people going to the comics from the show find a lot of the supe characters flat and uninteresting or even mean-spirited: most of them aren't characters in their own right but parodies of existing characters that don't really make sense without the metatextual background of Big Two superhero comics. Yeah, the comic does have a lot of weak spots in its characters and plot, but especially so if you only view it on the layer of the literal story. Many of those weak spots are a lot stronger when understood by analogy. I'd argue the metatextual analogy is a solid 50% of the comics' message. Don't get me wrong, there are still a good amount of weak spots left over -- Ennis's jokes can keep going long after they stop being funny -- but the comics are greatly improved if you don't take them as a completely literal or serious text all the time. Vought in the comics isn't just any massive corporation, the particular ways it exploits supes isn't a generic criticism of capitalism, it's more often than not a specific criticism of what the Big Two superhero comics duopoly of Marvel and DC have done to the comics industry. Vought superheroes encroaching into every aspect of the economy and culture? That's Marvel/DC taking over the comics industry and pushing out almost every other genre of comics in favor of superheroes. Without spoiling too much, even the central ideological conflict of Butcher vs Wee Hughie/Starlight vs Vought supes can be taken as a metaphor for different views on the superhero genre's role in the comics industry. The show is really missing an opportunity (maybe deliberately) to take similar shots at the superhero blockbuster movie industry. The conflict is arguably more potent than ever, as superhero movies dominate the cinema to an unprecedented degree, and with far more widespread cultural influence than comic books have ever had. The show has mostly limited itself to a couple jokes about Batman V Superman and the Snyder cut, which is a far cry from what they could be doing. I'd love to see them really take a fucking swing at the MCU, maybe bring in Tek-Knight as an Iron Man analogue, have him be a rich asshole making tons of movies, making billions off of his underpaid and overworked support staff, insisting on having his company cronies take over other projects outside his wheelhouse like idk healthcare to disastrous results. Really, yknow, try to say something about Disney-Marvel's monopolization and bad work practices! But, they'd be a real shift in direction for the show's writing, so I don't think they'd go for it. Just a shame that the analogy layer isn't present so much in the show, even if the literal layer of the plot is better to make up for it.

I think that's all I had to say. Oh wait also I was sad they downgraded Love Sausage from the most successful hero of the Soviet Union's supe program, with the full standard set of super-strength/durability/speed, a loyal communist long after the fall of the USSR, one of the very few comics supes that's a genuinely decent person, one of the fighters who beat Stormfront to death, and who just happens to also have a massive penis; to basically being just the dick joke and having dick-related powers. What a downgrade! This guy was a powerful supe and a total bro to the Boys! When he (bit of a spoiler) dies, he spends his last breaths sending out a warning to save Wee Hughie's life! Justice for my man the Love Sausage, capitalist Amazon hates to see a communist winning lmao

[idoun]

✩ .　it's not too long before the start of the next round — rosado can already feel the air beginning to heat up with anticipation, intensity, and stress, just like exam season back in the academy of elusia. with a few last strokes, he holds the parchment out at arm's length, tells himself ' good enough! ', and hops off the bench onto his feet.

a few quick strides bring him over to the porcelain-looking girl with the two-toned eyes. "hey there. sorry i never got your name earlier, but i'm rosado. here, there's something i wanted to give you."

parchment is outstretched for her to receive — on it, a bust sketch of the girl herself, a snapshot from the middle of their recent battle captured in an instant that juxtaposed her as a calm amidst the fray: an elegant eye of the storm, locks of hair awhirl but eyes focused; and those, in even greater detail than the rest. soft green seemed to enhance her enigmatic calm, and the deep magenta the tempest of the arena around her, together creating a sharp relief contrasting both. "feel free to keep it if you like it."

The winds took not only the ghouls, but also their own weapons and other boons. Yet, the atmosphere didn't feel light nor calm- they weren't done yet, that much she could feel. It was only a matter of time until the air, charged with magic, brought new apparitions and hopefully new skills for them to do battle with. Idunn faced this as an assignment of sorts, seeing how they weren't facing any real danger.

...well, that's what she hoped, at least. She wanted to be of more help. If she wasn't able to call her dragonstone and aid her teammates in decimating the enemies, she wanted to at least tend to their wounds and offer them safety- even though to her, that was unheard of.

Idunn had always been a slave of hurt and horror. Her wings were not an aegis- but a warning.

But a voice broke her out of her thoughts, and the girl turned around to face one of her teammates. The student who smelled of drakes. Not in a bad way- it was just obvious to her that he must live around or with wyverns. "I am Idunn." Rosado, then. She'd keep that name to her heart, alongside that scent. Rosado had an interesting look- almost ethereal, not like a regular human now that she got a closer look.

A paper...

Bladelike claws that most would expect from a fearsome dragon held the parchment like one would a fledgling, with grace and care as her eyes focused on every detail sketched on the thin surface. That was her. But that wasn't the grostesque-looking demon dragon from The Scouring that she had seen illustrated in tomes and walls, generator of armies of war dragons set to mince down humanity.

It was her, a girl.

Idunn didn't know what to say. "...no one had ever drawn me like this before." She looked up at Rosado, her face blank as always- though her eyes were ever so slightly widened in wonder. "I will keep it close to heart."

Fae told her once that gifts were best enjoyed when you gave something back, so Idunn took one of her many gemstone bracelets off, and handed it to Rosado. It was made of a thin, dark rope and adorned in peeble-like teal stones. "A gift...asks for gratitude. Have this." Fae had taught her how to make those. They were quite simple- not imbued in magic or anything, but they helped her find a way to keep her dragonstone close to her body. She had plenty of those around her wrists with all sorts of colorful stones, though her dragonstone was under her uniform shirt.

"I won't forget you."

[immortal-tale]

Someday, I am going to be just as strong, respectable, and wise granny as her 😌. (T v T atleast I want to be one) Though the cloudy lines of the toad and sharp, grostesque lines of the centipede is truly magnificent. It sets the right atmosphere for each yokai/yogei which is magnificent.

[shadethechangingman]

Salty Ask Meme: #1, #3, #20 and #31?

ok finishing those hater asks late

1.How has DC/Marvel/publishing company wronged you, specifically? everytime orion shows up in a comic its a crime. against me. but also like EVERY comic they announce sounds so bad these days. ok personal attacks against me RECENTLY

cancelling ram v's the swamp thing (so so good)

cancelling future state gotham (THE COMIC SUCKED. BUT i stand by red bat hunter and there are so many batman titles just leave this one!! for me.)

rebooting batman inc FINALLY but destroying the characters giving them all 1 skintone and introducing 400 new characters in the first 2 issues instead of just. DC PUBLISH NIGHTRUNNER: LOVE IN PARIS OR ELSE

khalid's future scares me w JSA and then batman w the fate helmet... also i have to be honest i hate his costume. its really bad. hoodie and jeans were somehow better

get constantine away from the JL and the superheroes! you have zatanna and dr fate!!!!!

dc v vampires and DKofsteel being 3984032432 chapters long w spinoffs and ONE jurassic league comic (jurassic league still deals w a trope i dont like (jl vs darkseid) but i will accept it bc the comic is so silly)

employing the toms

whatever piss shit black label is i hate to be "edgy" but its lacking the like.. grostesque and wild of it all. black label could never do face or kid eternity etc

so many more things im sure if i thought harder

3. Who is your most hated comics writer? ok if it wasnt obvious. TK. caus frankly i think "ex-CIA" is a valid reason alone to dislike him but on top of it i do think the misogyny racism xenophobia is unavoidable in his comics and while i hear "but he works w the best artists!' a lot frankly i dont think any of the artists he's worked with really did particularly memorable work on the interiors except bilquis evely tbh. and like that shit was a book there was so much text i barely had time to look at the art!!!!! frankly also someone told me they think he only watches the cartoons and as time goes on i start to believe that more

20. What’s the worst superhero team? I HATE THE JSA!!!!! and inf inc. nostalgia circlejerk for the good ol days with a ridiculously large cast that doesnt have any reason being on screen together outside of a "BUT WE'RE FAMILYYYYYY"x1000. w inyfinity inc the like smugness of "HEH we're the REAL heroes becuase our parents were heroes" in the appearances of them ive read just annoyed me

31. What’s the worst animated/live action adaptation you’ve seen? YJ for sureeeeee the misogyny racism ableism and absolutely the worst version of every character it adapts. and since it spans such a large amount of the dc universe which SHOULD be awesome for a cartoon but it manages to fuck it up every single way. dogshit art. dogshit designs (ok i remember not minding metron + FP's but every other design in the show PUKE). dogshit characterization. "its a reimagining-" and its a bad one