#the moral quandaries would fuck him up

[drchiropterajones]

Man, I don't want to start arguing on somebody else's post and start drama, but there was something that felt so weird and off about this take that I feel the need to ramble about it, so bear with me.

(Standard caveats, you are of course allowed to play DnD or write fantasy in whatever way makes you happy and you're not beholden to make fiction that one opinionated paladin-appreciator on the internet thinks is Correct, etc, but I'm gonna use the rhetorical approach of 'all of my subjective preferences are objective fact!' that tumblr is so fond of, so whatever)

Maybe this is an unpopular opinion, but like... yeah... a real-world equivalent of a paladin or a knight IS in fact a cop. Or a soldier, or a security guard, or what have you? That's kind of what they... inherently are? They are a person who uses violence on behalf of an abstract or concrete moral authority. If that isn't what they are, then they aren't really a paladin anymore! If what you want to write is a healer or a general do-gooder, that's fine but the violence is kind of inherent to a paladin or knight?

This feels like the kind of attitude you have when you say "ACAB!" because it's the trendy leftist thing to say and cops are The Bad Guys, but you don't actually have any... deeper understanding of WHY police brutality is bad? Or any conception of, like, authority and violence and power and etc being twined together? And how 'violence to protect/defend' is so hard to neatly separate out from regular violence? You just know that violence is bad when The Enemy does it, but good when Our Side does it? And cops are Bad, and my character is not Bad, ergo can't be a cop!

There is just such a disconnect here between "Fantasy world violence is good and fun and slicing people in half with zweihanders is cool to imagine yourself doing!" and "Real world violence is obviously usually horrible". And like, fair I guess, you're allowed to want to turn parts of your brain off when you're in a story. And if you try and consume or create only media that never uses cathartic righteous violence as fun, you're going to have a bad time in fantasy.

But like... What is it that makes a paladin hacking apart 'bad guys' with a sword in a fantasy world good and morally uncomplicated, but real-world violence not? What exists in the fantasy world that handwaves away the moral concerns?

Is it that the authority your paladin is acting on behalf of is Inherently Good and therefore so long as your paladin obeys their orders it's fine? If so, Hoo Boy, that is a can of worms.

Is it that a fantasy setting contains Evil Guys who are just inherently evil and you don't need to feel bad about killing them? Even worse!

What are you saying when you write these stories? What is the meaning? What are we saying about authority and violence?

If your paladin isn't allowed to engage with this stuff - if a character archetype usually defined in equal parts by their Lawfulness/duty and their Goodness isn't ever allowed to grapple with the contradictions inherent between those two things - man is there even any POINT to writing them as a paladin? You are stripping away the most interesting bits!

Why is it more 'progressive' to posit a world in there IS such a thing as absolute authority that is allowed to use all of the violence it wants free of judgement because they're The Good Guys? And as long as your character aligns themselves with that side then they're peachy? Is that really progressive just because the thought process stems from 'ACAB'?

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hello! Someone genuinely trying to understand and perhaps unlearn some reactionary tendencies. With the response to that anon about "not asking if you're a pro or anti", the response about "imagine if they put this much effort into protecting real kids" definitely got me thinking. So... Is an adult shipping children and finding that hot NEVER a red flag? Or is it case by case on seeing how that person handles the distinction between fiction and reality in other things? And bringing the issue of real kids into it, if a real kid who has been abused sees someone shipping kids and finds that a red flag in that person, that... No, no I juicy answered my own question on that one. Block them and cultivate your own experience.

hi there anon, and congrats on trying to unlearn some things! and great job catching yourself at the end there, that's exactly correct.

I will start by saying this right out of the gate: fundamentally, I do not really give a shit about what made up scenarios about fictional characters people are jorking it to in private. I am, first and foremost, interested in how they are interacting with actual, real people.

"but Makenzie are you saying people who look at sexually explicit images of real human kids should be allowed near children?" no I'm not. please note that I was specifically talking about people engaging with fictional characters who are, you know, not real and do not have feelings and therefore cannot actually be hurt, traumatized, abused, etc, in any way that actually matters. I want to be so clear about this: you can genuinely think whatever vile things you want about fictional characters. you can enjoy any problematic shit you want with little guys who don't actually exist.

like, here's an example I use a lot: I'm kind of a huge Batman fan. don't know if you could tell that or not, I'm pretty subtle about it. if you spend any time in the Batman mythos, you know that this is a story where you just kind of have to take for granted that our hero is a billionaire using his vast wealth to dispatch vigilante justice with military grade weaponry and a small army of child soldiers and cop friends to help him put people in prison. these are moral quandaries that are discussed and acknowledged within the story, but fundamentally the universe is always going to involve billionaire vigilantism and child soldiers and the so-called carceral justice system. that's just the price of admission if you're gonna read Batman.

and like. I spend a lot of time in that world. I love Batman, I love his child soldiers. he's my little blorbo or whatever. but like, at no point have I said "yeah, fuck it, preteens should be learning martial arts to fight domestic terrorists, actually. I think Elon Musk SHOULD be allowed to put on a fursuit and beat up criminals. cops need more funding." no amount of Batman comics can make me believe or act on any of those things because, you know, I'm a person with a brain and I know the difference between "thing that makes a good story" and "thing that should actually happen for real."

and the thing is that genuinely, honestly, if someone thought that it was a red flag that I like Batman, and that enjoying Batman comics was somehow a red flag indicating that I'm fine with violence being done against real, actual children? I would think that person was a nut, if I can be super real. like, I'm thinking about somebody trying to make the case that I shouldn't be allowed to hang out with my nephew because I enjoy the fictional character of Robin so clearly I'm going to kill my nephew's parents in front of him to try to get him into vigilante justice. or if someone attempted to bar me from teaching my 4th-6th grade sex ed classes on the grounds that I was obviously going to teach them to do karate to clowns instead of how their reproductive systems worked.

(although, lets be real, there are a lot of politicians who would MUCH rather let little kids cage fight each other than learn anything about safer sex.)

this doesn't just apply to morally bad things, either, btw. I also read a lot of romance novels, especially hetero romances. and the thing is, not one of those books has made me want to fall in love with a ruggedly handsome but condescending straight man. hell, none of them have made me want to fall in love with anybody, period. that's not really something I'm interested in for myself, it's just a fun and frequently funny dynamic to explore. I'm hardly the first queer person to point out that the allegations that queer media "turns kids gay/trans" is obviously bullshit since the vertible mountain of cishet media evidently failed to turn any of us straight/cis, you know?

my point being: no, I genuinely don't think it's often, if ever, reasonable to judge someone's actual, real life morals by how they interact with fiction.

I'm going to say something so vulnerable right now, because we're in a safe space here: since you asked me this very reasonable question, you evidently value my judgment and perspective at least a little bit. and I once read and thoroughly enjoyed a fic in which Dr. Horrible, from Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog, gets fucked by a sapient evil horse. and I don't think that makes me a morally reprehensible person, or a person who advocates for real human beings having real sex with real horses. I think it just makes me kind of a weirdo with a bullshit tolerance.

if you want to hear a MUCH more thorough take on this, complete with addressing the issue of shipping fictional children, I cannot recommend Princess Weekes' video essay enough:

[eoieopda]

reckless serenade (kth)

i’ve been trying to figure out exactly what it is i need // called up to listen to the voice of reason // and got the answering machine

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Fem!Reader Type: One-Shot - Sequel to The Bad Thing drabble. Summary: Your husband hasn’t looked at you in months, but his co-worker, Kim Taehyung, can’t take his eyes off you. Word Count: 4K, with 2K+ being smut, lmao. Content: SMUT - 18+; Taehyung's POV; infidelity; reader's husband really is just The Worst; oral sex (m and f receiving); multiple orgasms; face-sitting; penetrative sex (p in v); tbh it doesn't explicitly state whether it's protected or unprotected sex, so??; moral quandaries; Taehyung gets his own fucking warning tbh. A/N: This Taehyung is back by popular demand. This picks up where the drabble left off, so go read that if you haven’t! Actual note and tags are at the end :)

You’d returned to the table separately, several minutes apart, to quell suspicion.

As it turned out, the subtlety hadn’t been unnecessary. Nobody batted an eye when Taehyung sat down after a prolonged absence; and, as expected, your husband’s lecherous gaze hadn’t left the waitress long enough to find you missing. So, when you’d slid back into the seat at Taehyung’s side, no one knew your dirty little secret.

Secrets. Plural.

Park Ji-won might never know that you’d just orgasmed thrice, only a few meters away behind an unlocked door. Or that Taehyung’s orgasm was still lingering where he left it, staining the inside of your little lace panties. Or that the wedding ring he’d bought for his pretty, young bride was still in Taehyung’s pocket, rolling between the fingers that now knew you inside and out.

Definitely not that you’d left that ring in Taehyung’s possession with the promise of retrieving it after dinner — if you even wanted that tacky thing back in the first place.

When the bill came, Taehyung’s co-workers — your husband included — whined like petulant fucking children that the twelve bottles of liquor they’d consumed were fully accounted for. Out of habit, Taehyung glowered and turned to see how you were reacting, only to find that you’d done the same.

There was a wry smile tugging at your lips when you whispered, “Well, well, well… if it isn’t the consequences of their own actions.”

He’d snorted into his glass of water, watched his life flash before his eyes, and — thankfully — managed to swallow down his laughter before he could choke on it.

Is this the personality your husband misses out on, listening to everyone but you?

Taehyung, keeper of the company’s black card, bowed to the waitress as he handed it over. She’d smiled at him — the first genuine one he’d seen from her all night — and scurried off to close out what had likely been one of the worst shifts of her life thus far.

Normally, he’d feel the same: eager to leave and get the fuck away from the ghouls he already spent too much time with. So annoyed by their lack of manners and restraint that his rage would carry him out the door, to his car, and home again without either foot seeming to come in contact with the ground. He’d levitate this time, too, but for different reasons.

Instead, Taehyung flew home on thoughts of you. He’d replayed the way you shivered when he pulled your chair out for you and helped you into your coat. Like a rose petal in his palm, so fucking delicate, he’d carried the memory of your hand bumping innocently against his on his way out the door. And as he drove, he thought of what you’d said under your breath.

Am I a consequence of your husband’s actions, too?

Taehyung has been home for two hours now, and he still doesn’t know what the fuck to do with himself. 

He doesn’t bother turning on the television; he’d never be able to focus on whatever would end up flashing across the screen. He doesn’t pick up one of the many books in that untouched, yet ever-growing pile on his coffee table. His gaze keeps flicking hopefully towards his front door, as if staring at it with intention will manifest you on the other side. 

What if you changed your mind? What if you'd been caught out? What the hell was Taehyung supposed to do with your wedding ring if you never came back for it? 

Fuck. Shit! Motherfu— 

His catastrophizing is cut short by a quiet knock on the door. Three shy taps in quick succession, they mirror the way Taehyung’s heart is thudding against his rib cage. He ignores the anticipation turning cartwheels in his stomach as he pushes himself off the couch and makes his way to you. 

Even though you’d announced your intentions earlier, Taehyung is still semi-shocked when he opens the door and sees you standing on his doorstep. The look in your eyes tells him that you’re surprised, too. At yourself, maybe, for following this rabbit hole down to the bottom. Or at him, because he hadn’t used any of the past two hours to change from his suit into something less stuffy. 

You did change, he notes immediately. You’ve traded in your dress and stilettos for active wear; and Taehyung really might die now, jealous of leggings that smooth over your curves like water. It’s the comfort that really has him fucked up, though. The hair in a loose knot on top of your head, the barely-there stain of pink on your lips now that your lipstick has been discarded. 

“There you are,” He hums with a tilt of his head. There on his doorstep; there in real time; there in what he can guess is your usual state. Fucking perfect. “Wasn’t sure if you changed your mind.” 

You cross your arms, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, and tilt your head just the same. “I didn't,” you breeze, “I was conducting an endurance test.” 

“Oh?” Taehyung chuckles softly, “Do tell.” 

“I wanted to see how long I could tolerate sitting home, alone, without even a texted excuse – and without going out of my mind.” 

“Two hours? Impressive.” 

“Forty-five minutes,” You correct him, eyes twinkling, “I just got really, really lost on my way here.” 

“Even more impressive.” Taehyung grins as he opens the door and steps aside to invite you in.  

You slink through the gap; and he can’t tell if the way you brush against him is intentional or not. Then, you toe off your sneakers and leave them on the mat next to the door. You look up at him, but he’s still looking at your shoes.  

Plausible deniability, he realizes. Just in case tonight is the first night that your husband cares where you are — out on a run. 

Taehyung pushes the thought away, tears his gaze off of those Nikes, and refocuses on you. Ignoring the million things he wants to do to you, he nods up the hall to his kitchen. “Care for a drink? I’ve got an incredible bottle of Bordeaux from Pomerol.” 

“Just one bottle?” Your tiny smirk weakens his resolve even further. If he didn't love these little exchanges so much, he'd be worshipping you by now. “Not twelve?” 

The most perplexing thing about you isn’t how quick-witted you are. Taehyung’s seen it in every conversation he’s ever had with you; and he waits patiently for it, every time. The twist is how subtle you are with your little quips. Perfectly understated, they’ll fly right under the radar of anyone who doesn’t expect them.  

Does your husband even know to look?

He leads and you follow until you’re both standing in his kitchen. You take in your surroundings while you nibble thoughtfully on your bottom lip. Taehyung digs through a poorly organized drawer for a corkscrew he’s not sure he even owns.

Now, he’s nervous. This is the part where you find out he’s not a wine guy. He spent every step here praying that you wouldn’t ask him a single question about that Bordeaux because he couldn’t tell you a goddamn thing about it — except that it was a gift from a client, and that he hadn’t opened it because he prefers beer. 

You, on the other hand, enjoy wine. If you do end up drinking at the firm events you attend, that’s what you choose. While your husband is off somewhere, drowning in hard liquor, Taehyung is laughing with you and your glass at a table. When the night’s over, he replays the sight of your tongue darting out over your lips, collecting the excess maroon that lingers when you pull your glass away. 

Taehyung can’t point out Pomerol on a map and, as it turns out, he can barely operate a wine-opener. Thankfully, you have your back turned and your eyes fixed on the wall calendar full of shit he intends to blow off. You don’t glance back at him until, with a pop, he finally yanks the mangled cork from the bottle’s neck. 

Before he can turn to the counter and grab two wine glasses from the rack hanging overhead, you’re already on task. On tiptoe, reaching up, up, up, you let out a frustrated whine when you still come up short. On instinct, Taehyung steps into the space behind you. You lean back against him while he secures one glass in each hand; he feels the heat radiating off your body and nearly drops them.

Not that he would mind.

It’s so hard to give a shit about this wine with the curve of your ass so near to his dick, but he’s a better host than he is a co-worker, so he slips away to pour you a drink. Once he’s finished, he holds yours out to you.

If he were drunk by now, he could’ve blamed it on the alcohol, but he swears there’s a faint crackle of electricity when your fingertips brush against his. 

You close your eyes and inhale through your nose. “Mmm,” you hum appreciatively, eyes re-opening to blink up at him, “Smells incredible, doesn’t it?” 

Taehyung has no fucking clue because he forgot to fill a glass for himself. He doesn’t care if you notice, either; he’s too transfixed by the sight of your lips parting as you bring your glass to your mouth. You take that burgundy in, the column of your throat bobs as you swallow, and he’s waiting for it – waiting for it – waiting for it... 

It’s such an innocent action, the tip of your tongue swiping over your lip, but it sets off something primal in him.  

Bordering on feral, Taehyung sets his still-empty glass back on the granite surface of the island and takes four, wide steps to you. A little gasp tumbles out when his hands claim your waist, but it isn’t surprise. Pupils suddenly blown wide, it’s want that prompts you to discard your drink beside his and tangle both hands in his hair. 

Though he’s wanted to for years, this is the first time Taehyung has ever kissed you. It’s carnal. You kiss him back, and it’s all clicking teeth, whimpers, and desperate, clinging fingers. Insatiable, too, and it tastes like fancy French wine.  

You’re starving for it, he knows, and you whine when his tongue leaves yours lonely. That pout could convince him, without a word, to rob a bank at gunpoint.

Who the fuck would leave you home alone? 

“Angel,” Taehyung pants, locking eyes with you. He runs the pad of his thumb over your flushed cheek and feels the way you shiver. “I’m not above fucking you in this kitchen, but after fucking you in a public restroom, I think you’ve earned a bit more comfort than that.”

“Oh, fuck – just like that, angel. Shit!"

You’re on your knees between his spread legs with his throbbing length down your throat and your hair flicked over your shoulder. It’d all spilled from your top-knot a while ago, and Taehyung remains thankful for the shitty construction of that elastic band. Now, he has some part of you to hold while the rest of your body is out of reach.  

Every instinct is telling Taehyung to throw his head back against the pillow – with his eyes screwed shut and his mouth hanging open – but then he’d miss the way you keep looking up at him under dark eyelashes. Wet eyes blink as your ravenous mouth works magic, and goddamn, this talent has been going to waste for years. 

If he lets your ministrations continue, he’ll be dead long before he can pay you back – with interest. Buried before he can thank you properly for your service with his face between your thighs. So, Taehyung swallows hard, cards his fingers through your hair, and gently guides you off of him. 

He’s committed a lot of sins in the past six hours, but interrupting your medal-worthy exhibition feels like the worst of them. 

Your voice is a bit hoarse from how much of him you’d taken and how’d deeply you taken him. Wiping at the spit that slicks your chin, you look self-conscious when you rasp, “Is something wrong?” 

“No,” Taehyung shakes his head firmly though most – definitely not all – of him feels like gelatin. “Fuck no, sweets. That’s why I have to stop you.” 

Sitting back on your knees, you pout, and he melts. He’s already spent too much time wondering how your husband can leave you on the sidelines – but that was before Taehyung knew what face you make when you don’t get your way.  

Goodbye world, he thinks. He’ll never get out of this bed as long as you’re in it.

He beckons you with a curl of his finger, wholly unprepared for the ramifications of his decision to do so. Now, you’re straddling him, hovering overhead with your face mere centimeters away from his. You lean in when he cradles your jaw in his hand. So sweet, you smile a little when you feel the tickle of his breath warm your lips. 

“Ride me.”

Taehyung can’t help himself; he’s nearly pleading. You smirk and move your hand down towards the cock leaking all over his stomach. He reaches out, taps under your chin, and stops you in your tracks. You burn pink when he clarifies, “Not there.” 

This idea has you frozen in place. Worse, there’s a speck of anxiety blooming in your eyes; and Taehyung doesn’t have to guess why. He’ll add this to the infinite list of ways Park Ji-won has fucking failed you. 

Taehyung was already propped up on his elbow, but now he sits up fully to meet you where you are. “Hey,” he murmurs, stroking his thumb over your chin before kissing you, “Only if it’s what you want. For what it’s worth –”  

Fuck, you look so shy.

He kisses you again. “I want you to fuck yourself on my tongue –” And again. “Until you’ve taken back every orgasm –” Another kiss, and you whimper, “You’ve been deprived of.” 

When Taehyung’s eyes flicker back to yours, there’s a new sense of determination burning in your irises. Even better, there’s a brief twitch in your jaw as you place your palm against his bare chest and push him back down against the mattress.

You’re a force of nature every day of the week, but as you crawl over him, it’s the most powerful he’s ever seen you look. 

Your hands take hold of the headboard as you lower yourself down towards his mouth, which is already watering at the mere thought of tasting you. Pausing with your slick center just out of his reach, you glance down at Taehyung. He tilts his head to the side, nips playfully at your inner thigh, then soothes the sting with a slow swipe from his tongue. 

He doesn’t say a word, but you hear him, nonetheless. Keep going. You do, and you both groan when his mouth meets your cunt.

Finally.

Tongue teasing at your clit, Taehyung’s hands on your thighs pull you down harder. He refuses to accept the shyness keeping distance between you. No, he demands your full weight; all of you.  

Angel that you are, you acquiesce and grant permission for him to devour you fully. Taehyung can’t hear you keening over the suckling, slurping, and panting, but he can feel it in the way your thigh muscles clench around his head. 

His name rings out clear as a bell, though, right before your whole body begins to shake. 

“F-fuck!” You squeak, crumpling forward.  

Taehyung suspects that your orgasm is too heavy to face sitting upright, but whatever the reason is, it’s bringing your fluttering cunt closer and closer to him; and he has no plans to stop at one. Spit-slicked and gushing over his mouth, the way you begin to grind against him says that you aren’t tapping out, either. 

It’s a start, but he wants more from you. To coax it out, Taehyung pushes his fingertips deeper into the flesh of your legs and pleads with you to give him everything you have. You listen – so fucking well – and drop one hand from the headboard to grip his hair.

Yes, he screams inside his head. Use me, angel, just like that. And you do, rolling your hips against his mouth, tugging at his curls until he feels that incredible sting at his roots. 

You come a second time with his tongue darting inside your hole, nose brushing against your clit. Insatiable, both of you, he forces out a third before those aftershocks can even subside. 

Taehyung gasps for air when you wriggle away from him. You’re equally out-of-breath when you collapse sideways onto the bed and rest your trembling body against his. When he turns his head to look over at you, he expects to find you with your eyes closed, fully spent. Instead, despite your fluttering eyelids, you stare right back at him. 

The way your fingertip traces soft spirals across his chest has his brain spinning, too. For reasons he can’t explain, that delicate touch feels infinitely more intimate than the million ways he’s touched you over the course of the night. It’s the most at-peace he’s felt, too, but you throw a curveball to keep him on his toes. 

“Not tired already, are you?” You tease with a devilish grin before placing a kiss on his bicep. When he laughs incredulously at you – you minx – you keep those little kisses coming until they're trailing up the curve of his shoulder. 

Taehyung is a firm believer in showing, not simply telling. Catching you completely off-guard, he rolls over until you’re pinned beneath him, head caged between his arms. Your surprise left you in a gasp, but the shock has already given way when he ducks down to nibble at the side of your neck.

You moan when he nips at your earlobe; you miss the way he smirks against your skin because your eyes have fluttered shut again. Who's tired now? He growls low from his chest to recapture your attention, “How do you want it, beautiful?” 

Everywhere, all the time, like I do? 

Taehyung suckles at a spot below your jaw, and he doesn’t give a fuck if your husband finds his calling card. You don’t either, it seems; you whimper and roll your head to the side to increase his access. 

You keen as you place your hands on his shoulder and dig your nails into his skin, “Dealer’s choice, just – please fuck me.” It sounds close enough to a cry when you continue, “I need you inside of me – now.” 

How could he ever say no when you beg like that? 

Your poor thighs have been through enough, so Taehyung keeps you where you are: nestled underneath him with your heaving chest brushing against his with every breath. You spread your legs to create space for him, then cross your ankles behind his back when you feel his tip tease at your entrance. 

He has to fight to keep his eyes open when he enters you; unwilling to miss a second of the way your mouth falls open, even though you’re too vexed to audibly moan. He’s not – not yet, anyway – and he can't keep quiet when your wet heat envelops him.  

Slowly to start, Taehyung grinds against you, pushing his cock further into your cunt until he’s buried to the hilt.  “Holy shit,” he grunts.

You’re dripping. There are rivulets of you spilling over his length, coating him all the way down. Still, your walls grip him tightly enough to dot stars behind his eyelids. Squeezing, daring him to move but fighting him as he tries to leave. You’ll milk him dry, sooner rather than later.

“I’ll never get over this – could fuck you every day, and it wouldn’t be enough.” 

Whimpers spill out of you as he continues to rut against you, stretch you open for him. Your nails dig half-moons into his arms, and they sting, but Taehyung wants every single souvenir you’re willing to give him. He’d archive every touch if he could; play every mewl of yours on a loop, and savor the way it feels when you orgasm around his cock. 

“So, don’t stop,” You pant, gripping his jaw and pulling him close enough to kiss. Against his lips, you repeat your demand, “Don’t ever stop.” 

Taehyung is still trying to determine which version of you has him most fucked in the head.

He thought it was you and your little, black dress and heels. The version of you that followed the man who took your wedding ring into a public restroom; fucked him; and then left without your ring.

Then, he met the version of you that dresses down for clandestine, extra-marital dick appointments. A dark horse, certainly, but then there's the one who wore nothing at all; who shook, and cried, and came all over his face.

The best thing, he realizes, came last.

It's you in his crewneck, towel-drying your hair in his bathroom while he brushes his teeth. You, saying you'll stay – just this once – because you know for a fact that your husband never came home. You with your chin resting on his chest as your sleepy gaze struggles to focus on him.

Taehyung had figured that you were too tired to speak, so you startle him with your voice; even more so with the deep frown working its way over your face. With how much you shrink when you say, "I think I'm a bad person."

"Why, because you're here?"

You nod. His heart drops, though not because he didn't expect this. Rubbing gentle circles into your back, Taehyung inhales, deep in thought. There's a lot he wants to say, but significantly less that he can even begin to articulate. He can't say the quiet part out loud, even though it's screaming through his skull.

Maybe if your husband was a good person, you wouldn't be where you are right now. Maybe if he loved you, he would be home to notice that you weren't.

He tries his best, sighing, "I think people are a lot more complicated than that."

This thought catches your attention. Your chin digs into him slightly as you tilt your curious head to the side. Cute.

He continues, "I think we're given a hand of cards – some of them great, most of them shitty – and we do our best to play them well. You know, to the extent that we can."

"Do you really believe that, or are you trying to make me feel better?" You smirk, playfully tugging at the waistband of his boxers.

Taehyung exhales forcefully through his nose and tucks a runaway strand of damp hair behind your ear, "Does it matter?"

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A/N: So, by now, you've noticed that the original drabble and this fic are both in Tae's POV. I did not want to tell the reader how to feel about this. I wanted it to be as open-to-interpretation as possible, and I really, really, really wanna know what y'all think about the thing I didn't clarify: Do you think (1) they actually have feelings for each other; (2) Taehyung loves the idea of her and feels like he's "saving" her; (3) Reader just wants to be wanted, for once; or (4) it's a combination of things? HMMMM.

[mothandpidgeon]

The Outlaws (Outlaw!Joel Miller x f!reader) - Chapter 2

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SERIES MASTERLIST

pairing: Outlaw!Joel Miller x f!reader

rating: T (eventual E 18+ MDNI)

wc: 1.7k

summary: Wanted for murder with a bounty on your head, your only hope of escaping the Pinkerton detectives is an outlaw named Joel Miller and his sidekick Ellie. But Joel has other plans for you.

tags: old west au, enemies to lovers, grumpy Joel, handcuffed together, period/genre/canon typical violence, alcohol, morally grey characters, reader has backstory, no use of y/n

authors note: Posting this today in honor of act ii. Yeehaw. As always, thank you @ezrasbirdie for the beta and support in this (you really need to tell me to stfu about these two) and in life.

Joel once took Sarah to see PT Barnum’s Greatest Show on Earth. Each ticket cost him two quarters. She pulled him by the hand past the tents with Tom Thumb and the giantess, straight to the exhibition of wild animals. There were all sorts of exotic animals in the menagerie– giraffes, elephants, snakes. You remind him of the tiger. Beautiful and cunning. Fierce. Dangerous unless it’s kept under lock and key. 

Which is why he’s grateful he kept these old shackles in his saddle bag. 

You’re in a friendlier mood once camp is set up and a rabbit is roasted on a spit. He knows it’s a rouse, that you’re still spitting mad and hoping to slit his throat in the night. On that train, you were the demure damsel in need of a rescue. Soon as he put that cuff on your wrist, you turned into a fire breathing dragon. 

You can be as mad as you’d like. You’re no match for his strength or his revolver. 

They sit around the fire, Joel and Ellie propped against their saddles. It’s a cool evening, a steady breeze blows off the river. The stars paint the purple sky and the cave is illuminated with the orange glow of a fire. There’s plenty to celebrate. Though, even when they score a good amount of money, gold pieces, and get away without a scratch, Joel never feels much satisfaction. Despite his personal quandary, it would be a beautiful night, really, if Joel weren’t sitting there waiting for you to do something foolish. 

He can tell you’re meditating on some new escape plan, knows better than to look at you too long. A girl like you, pretty and with that sharp mouth, is the type that knows how to use her womanly wiles. You’re desperate enough to try just about anything and he’s not giving you the chance. 

You must think he’s stupid enough to fall for it too. He reluctantly passes you his flask and, after you drink, you wipe your wet lips with a seductive  finger. 

Ellie’s being a real chatterbox, recounting each moment of the robbery as if she’s writing her own nickel weekly and peppering you with questions. He’s not surprised she’s taken a liking to you. There aren’t too many of the female persuasion out here. Maybe she can see some of Tess in you. He doesn’t. Tess was always calm and controlled. And when she was angry, she never fucking spit at him. In fact, he resents you for making him think about Tess at all. 

“Ten thousand dollar bounty, huh?” Ellie asks you. “What’d you do?”

Joel’s seen more than a few people running from the law but none of them look like you. You’re no Annie Oakley. 

“My sweetheart was fooling around with my sister so I killed em both,” you say. 

“Really?” Ellie asks. 

“No,” you say. 

“What was it really?” she tries again. 

“Leave it,” Joel says. 

He’d be just as cagey about his past. Outlaws don’t live by any code but if they did, questions like that would be frowned upon. 

Ellie grumbles at him. 

“I’ve got ten on me too,” she tells you. 

“Your daddy must be proud,” you say, looking to Joel. 

They respond in unison— “He’s not my Pa,” and a “I ain’t her daddy.” 

You do a lousy job suppressing a smile. 

“So this is the infamous Miller gang? Ain’t much of a gang if you ask me,” you say. 

Joel grinds his molars. 

“We used to be a proper one. Most of ‘em are in prison now. And then we lost Tess to a bout with fever. And Tommy left,” Ellie recounts. 

“Who’s Tommy?” 

“Nobody,” Joel says same time as Ellie tells you, “His brother.”

You look Joel up and down. 

“That’s enough yakking for tonight,” he says. “I’m turning in. C’mon.” He pulls the chain. 

Ellie laughs. “I should warn you. He snores something awful.”

You scoff. “Is this some kind of ploy so you can wake up on top of me?” you protest. 

Joel’s patience is wearing thin. He’s got half a mind to turn you loose and let the wolves deal with you. 

“You can quit the belly aching, missy. I ain’t taking that thing off til you’re with the sheriff in Jackson.”

“You’ll wear him down eventually,” Ellie encourages. 

“Ellie, go to sleep,” Joel orders. 

She rolls her eyes. 

“What if I got to use the privy?” you ask. 

“Hope you like company,” Joel says. 

You huff. 

“You at least going to give me a blanket? Cold out here,” you say. 

Joel’s only got one in his bed roll, a beautiful Pawnee blanket he bought off a trader from Kansas woven with geometric patterns. He knows it would be gentlemanly to let you sleep with it but you’re no lady. 

He sighs as he hands it over. You wrap it around your shoulders with a self-satisfied look on your face. 

“Anything else I can do for you, missy?” he says with mock cordiality. 

“You can stop calling me missy,” you say. 

“G’night, missy,” he says. 

It’s not your best plan. But just because it’s simple doesn’t mean it won’t work. 

First step, you wait for Ellie and Joel to fall asleep. The girl takes a while. She’s got a dime novel with a cowboy on the cover that she flips through as the flames die down. You watch her through your cracked eyelids, pretending to have already drifted off yourself. 

It’s hard to tell if Joel’s out. He uses his saddle as a pillow and you’ve positioned yourself on the other side of it, your arm outstretched so you don’t have to be too close to him. 

He murmurs to himself. You strain to catch what he’s saying. At first, there are words you can understand. The name Sarah passes his lips. But then you hear him make a sound you can only describe as a whimper. 

It gives you pause. You’ve never been a nurturing type but it pulls at your heart strings, almost makes you want to put your arms around him. You imagine a hurt puppy inside that big, snarling dog of a man.

His sharp silhouette is highlighted in the amber glow of the campfire. It’s a shame he’s such a mean son of a bitch because he really is easy on the eyes. Then he rolls over. His unexpected motion nearly twists your connected arm out of its socket and you bite your tongue to keep from swearing. That bastard has you chained up like a dog. You do all you can to control your temper, swearing soundlessly. You can’t afford to wake him. 

You wait a long while, listening to him grunt and snore. Once you’re sure he’s good and asleep, you move. 

It’s a process. You begin by flexing your wrist. An innocent gesture that could be explained by sleepy twitches. He doesn’t stir. 

Eventually you feel bold enough to inch towards him, pulling the chain carefully along the ground. You crawl on your belly until you’re in front of him, then you dare to lift your hands up. 

The chain clinks against the buzz of the night insects and you swear it’s so loud you hear it echo off the mountains. You hold your breath, wide eyed, every muscle in your body taught. 

Joel doesn’t wake. He might be pretending but his chest still rises and falls slowly. Either he’s a hard sleeper or he’s deaf. Might be a little of both. You’re always tired after the rush of a big score. 

Ellie hasn’t woken up. Her eyes are closed, mouth hangs open. Down for the count.

You flex your fingers before you begin the next step, lick your lips and take a steadying breath. 

You’ve picked pockets before. Never tried it on a sleeping man, though. You keep your touch light, delicate, unbuttoning his waistcoat with one hand. It falls open for you and you can’t help but smile. 

The key to the handcuffs is tucked in the inner pocket. You saw him put it there. All you have to do is lift it out, unlock the cuff, and you’re a free woman. What you’re going to do after that, all alone in the middle of god only knows where, you’re not sure. But that’s not of material importance until you have that key. 

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip and you move slower than molasses in January, easing your first two fingers into the little pocket. Your fingertip connects with metal and your heart jumps. Pinching the ringed end, you hold on and pull. It’s awfully heavy. 

Because it’s not the key at all. You’ve fished a pocket watch out of Joel’s vest. Damn it. It’s a dainty little thing— fine gold with intricate scrollwork engraved on the back. The face is all busted up and it doesn’t seem to be ticking. Most importantly, though it’s not a key. You need that goddamn key if you want to get— 

The unmistakable click of a gun being cocked makes you freeze. Joel’s awake, dark eyes shining in anger. You’ve had guns pointed at you on a number of occasions but still it makes your blood run cold. 

“The hell are you doing?” he asks. 

“You’re dreaming,” you tell him. 

He doesn’t think that’s cute. The scowl on his face just deepens. 

“Alright,” you say, raising your hands in surrender.

You put the watch back in place and crawl back to your spot. 

“Gimme the damn blanket,” Joel growls. 

You toss it to him, cowed. But what did you expect? This had never been a very good plan.

Once you hear the hammer of Joel’s gun go back into place, you breathe a sigh of relief. It’s quiet for a while as Joel gets under his blanket and you know he’s laying there waiting for you to fall asleep. 

You try to settle down, wrapping your arms around yourself. The night air bites at you now that you’ve lost your blanket privileges.

“Sarah a sweetheart of yours?” you ask him. 

His head snaps your way so fast you think his neck might break. 

“You was talking to her in your sleep,” you explain. 

“Say that name again and I’ll wring your neck,” he says. 

He sounded like he meant it before but you feel like he’s looking forward to putting a bullet in you. You shiver. You’re smart enough not to say another word. 

---

Chapter 3

I'd love to hear from you! Comments and reblogs appreciated. My asks are always open!

[zweiginator]

OMG how does Patrick feel WHAT IS HIS THOUGHTS THE DRAMA IS INSANE does she directly tell him.. does she hide it from her family… I NEED ANSWERS

you didn't have to wait the full three minutes for the results of the pregnancy test. the results were almost immediate; the two stark lines of pink mocked you.

you threw it away outside.

it felt like a punch in the gut, like the worst pang of guilt you had ever. felt. because you and your father had just begun to rekindle your relationship. you told him good things about patrick, because there were so many things he didn't know about.

the scandals were years ago. any boy in his adolescence has done those things--patrick was just in the spotlight. was force fed moral quandaries that did not apply to other boys his age. it was hard to grow up that way, being told that your behavior was unforgivable, when every one else was getting away with doing the same things. it was impossible to please the media, and your father, of all people, knew that.

you told him that you and patrick were in love. and that was true. but your father, a man who cares deeply about tradition, would not understand this love. to him, a man who loves a woman waits to have sex until marriage. a man who loves a woman would not get her pregnant out of wedlock.

not only that, your father would use this against you and patrick. he would scream i told you so, and tell you he was right about patrick all along. that he's an immature boy in a man's body, that he is reckless.

and you couldn't help but feel like it was your fault. of course, you both had forgone the condoms. but you had forgotten about your birth control. you were completely swept up in the midst of a new love to even take care of yourself and now you and patrick had to pay the consequences.

it was easier for you to ignore him. he asked you to dinner, to take you to the lake, to see you almost every day. you ignored all his calls and texts and patrick didn't know what to do. he wasn't welcome at your house. but he knew you were there; he had driven by every night for the week and a half you ignored him for.

he wondered if you had found someone new. but he figured your father had put his foot down. got in your head, told you that patrick was a fuck up, an idiot, that he had no future. and maybe he was right. maybe patrick needed to let you go. maybe love wasn't supposed to be this hard.

you looked out your window and saw patrick's car, idle by the driveway. you ran down the stairs to see him, but it was too late. he was gone by the time you got outside.

[allwormdiet]

Buzz 7.12

I'm sure all of this will blowwww over

Not a great sign that Grue's immediate response is to deny any connection to this, but it's not unexpected either.

I wonder how much of this for Tattletale is seeing a kid in torment, seeing a teenage "psychic" girl in torment, realizing that she read Coil wrong, wondering what else she's read Coil wrong on, realizing that this is going to fracture the team.

She might be some kinda culpable, but for now at least I'm willing to believe that Coil pulled one over on her.

And this is why. Coil would have very easily left enough of the data incomplete in order to keep her from suspecting what's up. The blackmail would've been a lot more simple of a conclusion to reach, and how he'd even known she was a precognitive is a wild quandary.

Speaking of the team's fracture.

I wonder if this is how Coil works. He gives you what you want, and then he smears you with the guilt of associating with him. Makes you realize you're dependent on him.

It still doesn't reflect great on Brian, though, that his first thought is looking out for for him and his and let the rest of them burn for all he cares. It's cold, and I don't know how much of that coldness is his default and how much of that coldness is what's been imparted by his old man.

And it doesn't take much for Taylor to poke holes in the argument, either. This isn't some distant problem he can write off as having nothing to do with him, he objectively played a role, however minor, in this girl being kidnapped and turned into a little drone.

Not entirely shocked that Bitch is apathetic, the only reason she'd care is if Dinah was a dog or had mattered to her previously. People aren't her bag unless they prove something to her.

Little disappointed in Alec, though. Would've thought that the whole "mind slave" thing would hit him the wrong way but I guess that's not what he worries about.

Also, Taylor, hon, you knew that all of these people were career criminals from a relatively young age, and you knew two of them were killers, even if there were mitigating circumstances. You can be appalled at the lack of concern for Dinah in particular but you chose to associate with them.

Honestly it's an outrageous gamble on Coil's part. If any of the more aggressive Undersiders had taken umbrage with that stunt I don't know if there's enough destiny in the world that would've prevented his skull meeting concrete.

And uhh, mm. Tattletale's not doing great on the morality thing either. "Better her than me," is that where she is?

Brian fucked this one. He only gets aggressive with the team when he's convinced that he has to, and I can't help but noticed that when "he has to" overlaps with when someone is bucking his authority.

Of course she'd thought about how to fight the Undersiders before this, when it was all just infiltration for the sake of the good guys. But now she's given up on that, genuinely wanting to have them as friends and teammates, and the possibility of having to take them down is more real than ever.

Fucking sucks, but that's what it is, huh.

Taylor turned down the option of just continuing to endure high school, because she couldn't stand the thought of being under that kind of pressure when she had other options.

She turned down being a hero because she realized she didn't want to be a traitor to the others, and because the heroes had done nothing but piss her off for the entire month she's been active as a cape.

She left home because she couldn't deal with her father, couldn't stand the idea of letting him in or telling him anything, choosing to push him away rather than speak to him about anything meaningful.

All these bridges burned and now she realizes she's adrift with people she suddenly cannot trust, with no direction for where to go next.

It's easy to call her shortsighted, maybe, but how the fuck could she have known?

This one hurts.

Mm. I dunno if Coil wouldn't force them to make that choice, is the thing. The Travelers would be easier, yeah, but he likes fucking with people.

Yeah, see, this arc gave Taylor just that little bit more data to wonder if this is a pattern for Brian, if she's been looking at him with rose-tinted glasses (yes) and whether he's a bad person (don't know, but my guess is "complicated").

The Empire's attack and the introduction of Dinah are only two data points, and from a more distanced perspective that might not be enough to judge how indicative that is of his morality, but Dinah is the hill that Taylor is willing to die on, and she can't distance herself from it. Not that I think she necessarily should, mind, but this is an extremely thorny dilemma that Coil very deliberately threw into the middle of the team to see what would happen.

Taylor "Careful" Hebert, everyone.

I'm glad at least someone is holding out the olive branch here. It kind of has to be Lisa, because Alec and Rachel don't give a shit and Brian is already on Taylor's shitlist rn, but still.

And yeah, obviously she's not going to be leaving for a while with what's coming, but they don't know that.

Heart's already broken, what's a few more pieces chipped off?

And of course, Murphy has a timing for the dramatic.

Yeah no kidding Tattletale isn't bothering to front with the smiles in this moment, this could kill them all, or frankly there's a nonzero chance it could do worse.

Because above all else, even as an outright felon who disrespects all authority, Taylor wants to be a good person.

...And I suspect Lisa knows that.

Current Thoughts

It's incredible, honestly, you'd think at some point the plot would stop accelerating somewhere along the line, but no, we're just cranking it up further and further.

The tensions between Taylor and the other Undersiders is so rough to read, she genuinely pinned a lot of her hopes on this friendship and now she's being let down, again, because she's the one who has a whole thing about trying to do what's right and their baggage involves... not that. Heartbreaking as per usual.

And then the fucking Endbringer. I'm gonna talk about it more in the Interlude but this is just another reason I want to kick Coil in the teeth, slimy fuck that he is. Moron rang the goddamn dinner bell for a localized apocalypse generator.

Let's hope nobody dies I give a shit about, I guess.

[navree]

Jonah Magnus

ugh number one guy, enough of sam trying to find out about martin blackwood and helen richardson and more research of the magnus institute involving research of jonah fucking magnus, also he just needs to return to me at once, i miss him dearly

How I feel about this character: I really like him. A fair amount of that comes from the fact that I've always had a natural affinity for villains and also that Ben Meredith's performance was just really good and I appreciated that. But I just enjoy him, I've always enjoyed villainous characters who are unapologetic in their villainy and aren't in a constant moral quandary about their bad deeds, and Jonah really just has no problem with any of the objectionable acts he does. I like his villainous traits, that he's duplicitous and manipulative and a bit sadistic (he didn't need to go that hard against Martin or Melanie, he did that because he wanted to), I like that he has his own agenda that he works at no matter what and no matter who it hurts, and I like that there are layers to him. 102 is one of my all time favorite episodes because we get to see things like Jonah having some kind of consideration (mild though it is) for other people, his curiosity, his enjoyment at things when he feels it unbridled, his sense of humor, and beyond that, Jonah is clearly not just a determined and driven individual, but there is some interiority in themes of choice, creation, and transformation intrinsic to the very nature of how Jonah extended his life the way he did. I dig him, he's real neat, he's legit my second favorite character in the show. Plus, when he snaps, he snaps, that's always so much fun (one hit would have killed Leitner and Martin and Melanie would have both been cowed with far less, but when Jonah gets mad he gets vicious and violent and that's why he pulverizes Leitner's head and goes way farther with torturing people who've irritated him and it's really fun that he has that side that just kinda loses it when pushed, I love it).

All the people I ship romantically with this character: I do actually ship Jonelias, it's an interesting dynamic and i wish it had been explored more post season 3. I also enjoy all of Jonah's romances that he definitely had with, like, every member of his original squad back when he still was Jonah Magnus. But number one OTP is always gonna be Lonelyeyes, andnot even in a meme way. Like I genuinely enjoy them as a couple, I have a LOT of thoughts on how that went on and what they meant to each other in the grand schemes, and I wholeheartedly believe there was emotional investment from Jonah's part (there kinda has to be, because Peter by nature isn't gonna be actively pursuing anything except potential victims, certainly not romantic partners). I have a post about this somewhere, but Peter is also the only person who has died in Jonah Magnus's ten million lifetimes that can be laid squarely at his feet. Anyone else who dies was likely gonna die around the same time in similar circumstances even without his involvement, but Peter, assuming he and og!Elias were the same age (which I do) is the only one who dies because of Jonah's actions and nothing else, if only because he's in his, like, mid-forties, and I can't pass up the thematic richness of someone who was so afraid of death he found a way to legit not have to deal with having a lover who dies well before his time as a sole result of your involvement in his life. I'm heavily invested in them as a couple, I could talk about it for days, not just because Jonahlias is my second favorite character and Peter Lukas is legit my fave.

My non-romantic OTP for this character: I know it's not canon but given my issues with season 5 I can elect to ignore it, I like imagining him and Rosie as buds and her as someone who doesn't take his shit and them just vibing (was always big into Web!Rosie or even just Eye!Rosie as long as she was specifically into just observing). To me, they just spent season 2 staring at the Archives and being judgy while sharing a coffee.

My unpopular opinion about this character: Again, I like villains, I don't mind Jonah as an out and out villain, but I think I preferred what we were getting out of him in season 3 than the turn to big bad. Like, season 3 Jonah seems to operate honestly similarly to Gertrude on a wider scale. He wants to stop Rituals, by whatever means necessary. And he wants to keep control over the Institute, his center of power, and is willing to do whatever necessary to keep it as well, and has no problems being cruel or awful in the process. And he has different motives for ending Rituals than Gertrude does, clearly, because he's not a very good person, but I just prefer that kind of grey/neutral affinity, regardless of him personally being bad or evil, and that role that he was playing. It was more fun for me, and I think it had more creative potential for Jonah as a character while still keeping him in a sort of villainous personality, which as I've said, I love. Also I think that all non-Elias enjoyers need the word "capitalism" taken away from them and they can only have it back when they prove they understand wtf they're talking about because a lot of the critiques are not only weird but straight up inaccurate to the character and don't make sense. Not gonna elaborate much on it too because I have a post about it already on my blog in some detail, but another major unpopular opinion of mine is that Jonah, specifically Jonah, was not seen as a bad boss or hated by wider employees at all, canonically, it's only Tim that starts turning on him in season 2 because of his issues and everyone else only hops on board after he legit reveals that he killed someone in cold blood and framed their coworker for it, they liked him as a boss and thought he was good this is literally canon even if it's an unpopular opinion.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: That he shows tf up in TMAGP. Like, where is he? I'm pretty sure he's involved in the computers, because "jmj errors" are not actually a thing and very specifically for this show, and it makes sense that the three people in the Panopticon in 200 were the ones transported to the computers, but that's TMA!Jonah. There was a Jonah from this show's universe too, one that created the Magnus Institute and very obviously had plans, even if they diverged from what we know. And I don't think the fire at the Institute, stopped him, so where is he? Can he show up? God I hope he does, and if he doesn't I still have a draft of something that I might write down eventually.

[goblins-riddles-or-frocks]

some more interview 1994 movie rewatch things that made me insane:

- they live in 90s subtext land, so the narrative swapping of louis having a dead partner and child and gaining a new partner and child in lestat and claudia

- what if there is no hell, what if they don’t want us there!!!!!!

- louis’ moral quandaries next to how he reacts with revulsion when approached for help by one of lestat’s victims. he’s just kind of fucking evil the entire time (obviously) and the way his depression and moral despair leads to utter apathy and cruelty despite his constant abstract sense of guilt— which eventually also leaves him. like he does need that guilt bc otherwise there’s absolutely nothing. and the culmination of his arc is exhausting even his grief and arriving at that nothingness.

- lestat giving claudia a doll every year on her death day :C

- the scene!!!!!!! where claudia pretends to want to make amends with lestat. who is being petty and angry at her, but clearly through the lens of family, wholly unaware that claudia is completely against him now and ready to see him dead.

- that beat when he’s cruel to her, and she’s like “why do you say such things?” he’s just quiet for a moment. and tom cruise’s face really does go on a journey there! acting! and that next to the glimpse of real vulnerability when he asks her “do we forgive each other then?”

- claudia saying “one lesson you taught me, never drink from the dead.” the caged birds in the background! while lestat keeps thinking this is just an increasingly mean prank! it takes so long for him to understand what’s actually happening, even after she admits to poisoning the twins and letting him drink dead blood. him demanding to be put in his coffin because he thinks louis at least would obviously help him

- and then!!!!! the way louis just walks in on all this, completely unaware, because claudia left him out of the planning after he initially rejected her idea of a mutiny. but once he does see what she’s doing, he doesn’t care enough to prevent it. he is only really effected enough to lift caudia so that lestat’s blood doesn’t get on her skirt lmao

- “you missed him.” “he was all I knew” the way this is the OG kill your toxic fatherspouse storyline

- when lestat shows up again!! STILL speaking entirely in a familiar and familial context, and how him attacking claudia is the only thing that rouses louis enough to actually hurt him. also just love the way this story uses a good cleansing fire to signify an upending of a stage of louis’ life

- the way that, reflected in louis’ anguished apathy, the other characters all see whatever they want to see. basically whatever would fill the void in their own empty lives.

- that scene where even claudia and madeleine’s ashes crumble into nothing

- lestat showing up yet again, entirely decrepit. that scene carries so much weight. the way he is still talking about claudia, still thinking about bygones and louis just says “that’s all past.” louis so unfeeling and having withdrawn fully into himself that he can afford to be indulgently amused by lestat’s fears, how he cringes at electric light. how he walks away completely uncaring. he’s just literally beyond everything and anything

[thewitchfarhan]

Why are you reblogging from evilios? Do you know that they’re a zeus apologist, right? 💀💀💀

I'm going to preface this by saying this is going to be a *MONSTER* of a post, so be warned - it's gonna be long.

TLDR: “But when it comes to the spiritual people I follow and reblog from on Tumblr - I have the following rule for myself:

If I like it, I interact with it, if I don’t - I won’t. If the blog isn’t upsetting to me or triggering me then I’ll follow, if it is - I won’t. If someone isn’t harming anyone by their spirituality then I’ll respect it, but if they are - fuck 'em.”

Hi anon - thank you for your inquiry. This is actually something I have been pondering for a bit and I feel ready to express my feelings around this issue.

To start - I am *very* new to the Hellenic Pagan community. While I have been a practicing Witch and Pagan for about 10 years - Hellenic Paganism is not a practice I have worked with/within prior to 2023.

Additionally - I make a point to not pass judgment on a spiritual belief or path before researching it from a third-party point of view, and examining the historical documentation available (as opposed to just taking into account UPG).

With that being said - my feelings toward Zeus as a deity/spiritual entity are negative (as you can see below from a previous post I made).

A good portion of the myths about Zeus that I am familiar with have heavy themes that center around male entitlement, assault, r*pe, and misogyny. All of which are not only morally reprehensible - but also somewhat triggering for me as someone who grew up Catholic.

I have seen individuals say that you have to take into account the “historical context” in which myth and religious texts are written. I have seen individuals say things along the line of “These myths were written by misogynistic men so they projected their own values and beliefs onto Zeus, that’s now who Zeus really is!”

[I'm going to use the anon above as an example because their thoughts and sentiments are ones I see often from Zeus Devotees / Zeus Worshipers]

I’m not in the business of trying to tell others what to believe - not because I think all beliefs are valid - but because I know it’s pointless.

However, if you are going to use Greek Myths as the source material for your religious practice - then it would be more logical to compare these myths - not to Paradise Lost - but to the Bible.

So, if Greek Myths (the basis of Hellenic Paganism) are symbolic and not to be taken literally - then prey tell where are you getting your canonical information from? Which religious texts *are* to be taken literally?

The bottom line, and answer to this quandary, is this:

All religion is invented. All religion is made up. All religion was created by humanity.

Cows and Crows don’t have religion. They do not build altars or shrines. They do follow religious codes. They do not worship or name divinity.

We can trace a before and after period for every religion's existence. There is not one religion that has existed from the dawn of time (and if anyone claims such they’re lying because humanity evolved from other species who definitely did not have any concept of ‘religion’).

So, with that being said, if you aren’t part of an organized religion/coven/cult - then you have two options.

1. Interpret all holy and traditional texts as literal and abide by their ever moral, rule, and decision within your personal practice.

Or

2. Acknowledge that you are picking and choosing what you believe to fit your own moral and personal narrative. Admit that you are making up your own personal gnosis and acknowledge that any judgment of your personal practice is also a judgment of your person. Admit that if you aren’t taking source material literally (which is a totally fine thing to do) you are inventing your own religious gnosis.

Want to worship Zeus and ignore all myths that portray him as a r*pist? Go ahead! I have no issue with you. Just don't try to somehow make those myths "valid" or "just symbolic" - just admit what you're doing and move on.

Because if you’re going to go around saying “Oh this historical information is valid but the other one isn’t and shouldn’t be judged from a modern lens!” then congratulations! I’m going to view your practice through the same lens as those who praise the Christian God as an all-loving entity and ignore the fact that (according to the story of Noah’s Ark in the Bible) he murdered every single adult and child on planet Earth, aside from a chosen few.

At the end of the day - do what you want. I don’t have any authority to stop you and I’m not gonna fight with you. But if you want my personal opinion on Zeus worship it is this:

Zeus, for me, is categorically defined by his actions. While there are many stories of SA and Abuse in Greek Mythology, Zeus as King of the Gods takes the cake. Not only because of the sheer number of stories that center around him committing acts of SA - but also because as the King of the Gods, he should be held to a higher standard.

Since I am not part of an organized religion/coven/cult - I get to choose how I interact with spirituality, and for me, that includes judging it through a modern lens.

I chose to not ignore the myths that portray Zeus in a negative light because I think the sheer number of those myths defines Zeus' character and what he represented in ancient times.

But when it comes to the spiritual people I follow and reblog from on Tumblr - I have the following rule for myself:

If I like it, I interact with it, if I don’t - I won’t. If the blog isn’t upsetting to me or triggering me then I’ll follow, if it is - I won’t. If someone isn’t harming anyone by their spirituality then I’ll respect it, but if they are - fuck 'em.

Feel free to send any follow-up questions, I could talk about this shit for days.

[semperama]

maxiel, tw angst no happy ending, manipulation, one-sided relationship. sorry but i got this idea in my head and i couldn't get it out.

Afterward, Daniel gives it a good five minutes. He drifts his fingers down Max's back a few times, then threads them up through his hair. His hair is always so soft after races, like hours of sweating in a helmet has changed it for the better somehow. It's times like these Daniel almost lets himself enjoy it--the closeness, the way Max melts into him, boneless and happy. It's fucking great to make someone happy. It makes all of this easier to justify.

"Sorry," Daniel says at last, shifting to reach for the nightstand where his phone sits. "Let me just--"

Max barely moves, doesn't look up, and really, that's fine. Daniel holds the phone behind his head and opens Instagram, starts scrolling. It's almost all people congratulating Max on his win. One pic from Scotty, the back of his and Chloe's heads tipped together against a beautiful sunset. A few boring odds and ends from other celebrities he follows. But mostly, it's all about Max. It's annoying how much his life has been about Max for the better part of a decade.

At least he's more in control of it now.

"Tough luck for Checo today, huh?" he says, letting his elbow rest on the space between Max's shoulder blades.

"I don't think it is luck," Max says, predictably. His fingers drift down Daniel's side, and Daniel squirms a little, ticklish.

"Yeah, you're probably right," Daniel says, as if it pains him. As if he isn't thinking the same thing.

"You won here not that long ago in a broken car," Max says. "It's all people could talk about."

Daniel lets it wash over him for the hundredth time this weekend. It doesn't feel any less fucking stellar. Sometimes he wonders--if he'd swallowed his moral quandaries and fucked Max back then, when Max was young and impressionable and absolutely gagging for it, maybe everything would have been different. Maybe Daniel would never have had to leave.

Or maybe not. It's pointless to think about.

"There's only one track where someone could win with a broken car, and it's this one," Daniel says, even though he knows not everyone could have done it. Not everyone holds up under that kind of pressure. Never before and never since has Daniel felt so fucking powerful. Like he was the best driver in the world. Like he could take on any-fucking-one, and especially the one draped over him now, fresh off another cruise to the checkered flag. Too easy, Daniel thinks. Do what I did, then we'll talk.

"Not everyone could do it," Max says, echoing his thoughts. "I don't think Checo could do it."

Daniel lets those words hover for a beat or two, pretending he's reluctant to agree. Then, he reaches out and sets his phone down again and lets his hand fall heavy on the small of Max's back, fingertips grazing the rise of his ass. "Fuck," he says, "I'd kill to be in the car you have now. Racing against you again. You think I could take you?"

Max laughs, a little too quickly, and it makes Daniel see red for a moment, makes him flex his fingers against Max's skin. Maybe Max really is the best. Maybe he's right about that. But he's gotten a little too comfortable there, if you ask Daniel. Someone needs to give him a run for his money. Someone needs to make him a little bit afraid.

"I would like to see it," Max says, and the genuine delight in his voice almost makes Daniel feel bad. Almost. Max pushes himself up on one elbow, meeting Daniel's eyes, and says, "No really, I would. I think you would at least be closer."

Daniel makes himself smile and hopes it looks real. "I'd like to think I would too."

Max leans in for a kiss, and Daniel keeps his eyes open, watching the way Max savors it, the way he cares about this like he cares about nothing else in his life except driving. It's a heady feeling, to know the champion of the world wants you. It's not good enough though. Not by half. Daniel wants to dethrone him, and there's only one way to do that.

"Maybe you could say something," Daniel says, when Max pulls away. "About next year? I mean, you know Christian would give you anything you fucking wanted."

Max wrinkles his nose. "Hmm. Maybe." He shrugs and flops back onto Daniel's chest. "But there is a contract."

Daniel forces a laugh. "There's always a contract. And there's always a way out. I know that better than just about anyone."

The silence stretches for a moment--long enough for Daniel to fear he's pressed too hard. All of this is such a delicate balance, and sometimes he feels out of practice with it. Once he told the press that his nice guy routine was a useful act, a way to get his rivals to let their guard down, but sometimes he loses track of how much of an act it really is. Like in those moments he catches himself thinking of the softness of Max's hair. Or the way it feels, breathing in and out and feeling Max's body move with his.

"I have mentioned it already," Max says, quietly, like he's ashamed to admit it. "More than once. I think--" He pauses and runs his palm against Daniel's chest hair. "I think he is considering it. Maybe."

Daniel wants to whoop. He wants to get up and pump his fist in the air. It takes all his willpower to only squeeze Max's shoulder, squeeze his own eyes shut, and let out a quiet breath. This can work. He's going to make this work.

He'll get a do-over, and this time he won't fuck it up.

[heretherebedork]

I'm actually quite pleasantly surprised by the turn Only Friends took this week, at least in my vision. I've been enjoying the messy from everyone, but there is something nice about the idea that this whole thing might end with everyone coming out a better person. Each of these character's has issues, but I think it would be really..heartwarming? dare I say, for this show about messy babies to end with each of them doing better than they did at the start of the show.

I have personally felt that a lot of the discourse around OF has been clouded by shipping dynamics and people wanting branded pairs to end up together. Which, I think Ray and Sand are great together, so no complaints here. But I also think it's lead to this...over villianization of characters. People in their twenties can be really messy even if they don't have malicious intentions. They're figuring themselves out, and sometimes they take the L along the way.

We've all been a little bit self conceded like Mew or desperate for love like Ray. I found that this show is 10x more enjoyable when you go in assuming that everyone is just trying their best.

There's still like 3 more episodes so who knows, but I think a really good twist in only friends would be each character coming out more like themselves at the end of the show. :)

Oh, definitely.

I would have avoided much more of that if weren't for certain anons and comments, I admit.

All of the characters are people. They're hurt and selfish and good and frustrated and happy and eager and a little manipulative and a little boring and something they drink and some have more trouble and sometimes they fuck and they struggle and everyone is just... everyone is trying.

I do think we're going to get a mostly happy, if not a bit more open, ending. Everyone will still be here and the future stretches out in front of them because they're all young and learning and figuring things out.

We're just along for the ride.

I think that the force of pair branding as well as the movement against it has created a very interesting dynamic between the show and the fans that is creating so many expectations and hopes that nothing could ever live up, frankly, because they're contradictory.

I am enjoying the show for exactly what it is and I like the balance between heartwarming and toxicity that makes up real people and real relationships that they've reached, even if it some of it doesn't quite meet my expectations of hopes (still sad Mew wasn't as manipulative as I hoped but that was just me wanting more and not so much a commentary of the actual show).

We have three more episodes and, I am certain, a lot more pain.

But I think we come out the other side hopeful. I think we come out the other side knowing that, at the very least, there's something good ahead.

That's why I want Boeing to be Top's platonic queer friend after the break up. I want him to be the older example of who they could be, someone who loved and loves but learned the differences and learned how to be the friend his friend needed.

Anyway.

Yep!

I'd love to stay out of the moral quandaries, honestly, because it's fun and I love my meta but I also love pretty much all the folks.

Oh, and I hope we get to see Yo and Plug get back together. <3 She deserves that!

[ambyandony]

Mista (Monster AU) being completely fucking willfully ignorant of the fact that 75% of his closest friends are inhuman is so fucking funny especially when it comes to Narancia because Narancia in particular is so fucking bad at being subtle (and likes using his shapeshifting to mess with specifically Mista since Fugo is desensitised to it) but Mista, as a monster hunter, doesn't want to believe his best bro isn't human (or Buccellati and Abbacchio for that matter) so he just suspends disbelief to honestly impressive extents because otherwise he would be facing a tough moral quandary.

Like someone gets him in a conversation bringing up how nocturnal animals have an organ that makes their eyes reflective in the dark (tapetum lucidum) and how humans don't have that and Mista pauses for a second with a confused look and is like-

"Y- Nah, man, it's-- it's gotta be like, some rare genetic thing maybe? Listen man my dude Narancia has freaky eyes like a cat in the dark, and he's human, so like--"

Sometimes he catches a glimpse of Buccellati's True Form through the divine veil and he's like "woah... wait... is that..... ....nah I'm definitely imagining things lmao"

It gets funnier when it comes to Fugo being the other human because not only is he aware and desensitized but he also thinks Mista's obliviousness is so fucking hilarious.

"Hey Fugo is, uh, is Narancia lookin' a bit weird today?"

"Not any weirder than usual, Mista."

"Uh huh... okay. Alright, yeah."

And when he ultimately can't suspend his disbelief any longer through the events of the part he ends up talking with Fugo and it goes like

"Oh, you finally found out?"

"WH--YOU KNEW?? WERE YOU GONNA FUCKIN' TELL ME??"

"Oh good heavens no. Not a chance. God made you that stupid. Who am I to interfere."

[cassatine]

I'm not done with the last episode of the season, but here's my first hot take anyway: SaB suffers from a lot of things, and one of these things is narrative cowardice — and more specifically, the refusal to have the Morally Good protagonist not only choose to do something ugly and #problematic but even to contemplate doing so.

Possibly the most striking example of that is having Vasily be offed by the Darkling’s shadow babies. Vasily’s function in the narrative is to serve as a foil to Nikolai: Vasily sucks, he’s a creep and a vocal Grisha hater — all in all it’s made pretty obvious letting him take the throne would be a bad idea. Nikolai, meanwhile, has as clear a case of one true king-ism as can be had, but he’s only the spare heir. In another story, it would have set the stage for our heroic protagonists to grapple with the fact that if they want to spare Ravka from Vasily’s rule and the civil war they fear he would make unavoidable, they have to do something about him, whether straight up killing him, imprisoning him, or something else — but thanks to Darkles conveniently doing the killing, our heroic protagonists don’t have to do something about The Vasily Problem. They don’t even have to start grappling with it at all.

Another example is, of course, Mal’s death (not that he's dead for realz lol). Now, I am a slut for trolley problem-style ethical quandaries, so something like ���should I sacrifice someone I love to gain the power to save untold numbers of people’ is my jam, and I can honestly appreciate the frantic search for loopholes in the face of it. (As a slut for #problematic female characters, I am kind of disappointed that while Alina does her ‘oh woe be me for wanting power’ routine she never actually is shown to be tempted to off Mal for power, like if you’re gonna go there then fucking go there, but oh well win some lose some). Still, for the trolley problem-style ethical quandary to truly hit, the frantic search for loopholes has to end in failure, bringing Alina back to ‘should I sacrifice someone I love to gain the power to save untold numbers of people’ with the heavy knowledge that there are no loopholes and that this is a choice that must be made, however ugly and soul-destroying it may be. But since this is a story written by cowards, once again our heroic protagonist is spared making an ugly decision by none other than Darkles, who nearly offs Mal, leaving Alina with but a shadow of the OG quandary (‘now that someone I love is dying, should I use their death to save untold numbers of people or not’).

Using a villain to spare the protagonist from doing something ugly isn’t exactly original, nor is it wrong per se: it’s an old trick, and such tricks exist to be used. It’s just that those tricks shouldn’t be turned into a cheat code either, and repeatedly using a villain to spare a protagonist not only from doing ugly things, but from even having to contemplate having to do ugly things? That’s a cheat code, and it’s cowardice, and worst of all, it’s boring.

[ace-of-hearts-and-spades]

I don’t normally post about Batman stuff because I have a lot of Opinions that would probably get me shot down in the street here in the Tumblr Batfandom. But tbh I think trying to apply real-world logic to Batman is a mistake. To a certain degree, it’s innate to the concept – he’s a vigilante working outside the law because it failed him and so many others, the various moral quandaries, etc. etc., and there are a lot of opportunities to analyze real-world problems through the framework of Batman media.

But way too many people get caught up in this idea of “Batman is bad because in reality [insert various gripes here]” when tbh I think Batman media works better when you treat it like a dark, Grimm Brothers style fairy tale. Trying to look at the text solely through the lens of our real world doesn’t work because it’s not meant to represent the real world. Everything about it is heightened and exaggerated and yes there are absolutely elements of the real world and it takes a look at real world issues of justice and whatnot but the criticism of “Batman is bad because he’s rich” or whatever the fuck is fundamentally missing the damn point.

[paleghostinthecorner02]

The more I think about this the more it pisses me off

Our heroes everyone! (⁠ب⁠_⁠ب⁠)

For context, this is an Earth run by Doom and his Fantastic Four. He's pretty much made it so the people of this planet supposedly don't really have emotions. They don't laugh or cry or feel happiness or pain, just subservience to Doom if Longshot and Reed Richards are to be believed. So why bother saving anyone since they're figuratively dead already, billions of people just going through the motions as a part of Doom's perfect world? They're better off not existing anyway if they can't feel emotions!

Bullshit, says I.

First of all is the moral question this brings up. Who the hell gave them the right to decided who should get to live and who should get to die? Fuck you Morph for saying "we're not God" when you are literally in a group of heroes who's job it is to save people like them. Fuck you Sabertooth for imposing your personal existential beliefs onto an entire population as an excuse to not try to save them. And fuck both of you for saying this shit to Miguel like he's being unreasonable when he's the only one of you so called "heroes" that thinks that maybe letting billions of people die is not a good thing. "Oh, he's just blinded by his love for Gwen, he isn't thinking straight." He can be scared of losing Gwen and still be the most rational person in the room. Sorry, I don't care how besotted someone is, if that person is the only one advocating for saving billions of innocent people from death, then he's still the one I'm backing in this moral quandary.

Speaking of Miguel and Gwen...

Isn't their whirlwind romance proof that people on this planet still feel things? Gwen literally tells Miguel she's in love with him, and is obviously broken up over the idea she may have to choose between her love for him and her loyalty to Doom. She's literally crying up there because of this, how the hell are you going to tell me nobody is capable of emotions and thus aren't "truly alive"? Even the fact that she ultimately decides to stay in her dying world isn't really an indictment on her ability for love since she obviously loves Miguel enough to force him into the portal to safety. Almost like, I dunno, she has FEELINGS? Yeah, ultimately love couldn't overcome but honestly I can see choosing to side with the person who you have been brainwashed and controlled by for years over a guy you've known for two days max. She didn't have enough time to be deprogrammed, but she still showed she was emotionally entangled with Miguel enough that she didn't want him to perish as well. If she had no feelings then why would she have cared about him enough to save him? Why would she be torn between love and loyalty in the first place? That's a sign that someone is FEELING, and if Gwen can feel things, then so can other people on this planet, right? That completely undoes Sabertooth's assertation that everyone is already "dead" anyway.

And one more thing these chucklefucks didn't consider: This event destroyed THE ENTIRE DIMENSION. Not just Earth, but everything. Am I supposed to believe that the only inhabited planet in this one dimension is Earth? That there isn't possibly a Shi'ar Empire or Kree or Skrull or any of the other hundreds of alien beings that show up in the other universes? Because I don't buy that for a second. So are all of those beings just supposed to die because the Exiles decided that the people of one planet aren't worth saving? Fuck you all except Miguel, that makes you universal assholes. I can't help but think part of Miguel's reason for staying where he was stranded instead of rejoining the Exiles after this was because he was so disgusted by their flagrant disregard for the lives of billions.

[rubiatinctorum]

Not me projecting onto Kazui but what if he's an extremely repressed bisexual (ft. some frenetic half-analysis) 😳

So he feels a sense of having to hide who he is from others, and when he tells his wife something honest about himself, it seems to me she really does not take it well. He wasn't unfaithful, but he wants to do things he "can't say out loud." So there are definitely, I think, some sort of repressed feelings there. But then we get to this line

And the name for one of the most common negative bisexual stereotypes I've heard is the "greedy bisexual," that idea of "wanting too much" and I can't say that because of his guilt and self-loathing right now Kazui wouldn't frame his identity/feelings this way.

The diction seems really significant here to me. Continuing forth with word choice, I found the use of "wrong" here very interesting,

When he's been describing his desire for physical affection (with whom? I'm curious) and is likely told that "it's wrong" to respond to with this. He's being told that this is "wrong" which is... I gotta say, not something I'm not used to hearing either from certain rhetoric 💀

In this line below, he seems like he's trying to follow a narrative set out for him, the heterosexual romance ideal so many are sold on. But Camouflage is an interesting point, because to fit within this framework, he has to blend in, hide part of himself.

And then well we get to two-way deceit

Like... swings both ways, Kazui?

Again, we have the perceived necessity of keeping his desires a secret

And the awareness that something so integral to him (and possibly romance related, considering heart connotations with love) might be considered a moral quandary rather than a part of his life (+ the rejection of this idea because he knows it's not a moral issue)

The green apple that Kazui picks up reflects as the head of himself from Half in his glass on a date; that apple was shown as something expressly different from the other red ones before. This could show that Kazui is feeling extremely different from everyone around him. He keeps the apple hidden (secret) under the table so his wife can't see.

When his wife is in distress later, it is a red apple that breaks, so we could recontextualize the green apple to be Kazui's state of differentness (maybe his sexual orientation if we want to interpret through that lens?)

Those are not Kazui's clothes, here. He wears this outfit in this scene:

And, if you will let me reach for straws, the homophone of bi and bye with the prominence of bye in the chorus... might be entirely coincidence but fuck it, if it is true, my analysis would have been worse for neglecting to add this

Digging into Half again, we get this line, which might tie back with the "So it's wrong? Oh, shove that!" from Cat,

Maybe his wife disapproves of him, thinking his existence as he is "wrong" and her opinion won't change.

We don't know who he's addressing here. Seems to be the woman, but

Next shot, she's blurred out. As if he's looking beyond her now and towards the bartender.

This could be representative of possible attraction towards both.

Looking at that apple of difference again, scales of his heart, scales having two sides to them, heart connotations with romance, his potential attraction towards men on one side and towards women on the other of these scales? The apple here is alone, in a spotlight, because it's the focus of this strife probably with his wife.

"all this time till now" has hurt him because he's probably felt this his whole life, despite keeping it a secret.

And he doesn't feel good about hiding it, so he tells her. Well, we see in audio drama 2 for him that it doesn't turn out so well.

And then,

Feelings shrouded in lies, in retrospect, another cue that he might have been hiding his identity and feelings, repressing them so his wife wouldn't find out and disapprove.

Then he says he's sure nothing will change, and they'll laugh together and call each other stupid names — he imagines that telling his wife how he feels might not put a rift between them after all. Sadly, we know now that it did.

Anyway, this is sort of just one theory I have about how to interpret Kazui's situation and Cat and Half. I've heard a lot of gay Kazui theory today, but I also wanted to account for certain (albeit stereotypical, but it may expressly be trying to invoke that) word choice, as well as what we see with the lady at the bar in Half and the mention of the "two-way" situation in Cat. If I were to do a full analysis of Kazui and Cat specifically here, I'd also have to account for, of course, what role does his alcohol and cigarette use play into his situation, since his specific digressions are related to how drunk he is or how he needs a cigarette break. What is the dove that he is eating meant to mean — doves and supposed "purity" going against how his wife may perceive his "wrong" nature, or does it represent some literal act of violence on Kazui's part we don't get to see, even though he states in his new drama that he hadn't fought against a girl before?

Um yeah so that's a lot of Kazui thoughts. Don't you miss when I was talking about the shoes in Triage instead