#there are people I know who thirst for the Master even NOW

[sins-of-the-sea]

He's dangling some of the souls bound to him upside down while squinting at them. "I don't understand the ever changing trend of what humans find attractive or not."

[alphajocklover]

InstaJock: Going Viral

**Hey! This is my entry for @occamstfs Viral Transformation Challenge. Congrats on getting 2,000 followers, and thank you for beta reading this and helping me edit it. I hope I can get to 2,000 followers myself one day! For those who are new to my stories, this does connect to the plot established in my blog, but the concept is simple enough you should be able to follow along even if you don't usually read my stuff! I hope you all enjoy!**

When I talk about the InstaJock App Phenomenon – which I seem to do a lot. What is this, the 17th InstaJock related post? I need to diversify more – I usually talk about the transformation aspects and not the app itself. That’s partially because the transformation is the most interesting and hottest part, but it’s also because I haven’t been able to take a good look at the app. Even with all the protective spells and equipment I have, I can’t use a phone with InstaJock on it for very long without getting an urge to set up an account. 

Until now.

With some help from the devilishly handsome (and literally devilish) Nick, I’ve been able to get my hands on some better equipment and better explore the app. I was able to spend a couple hours on it before I needed to quit, and actually got some very interesting information, mainly about how the app works post-transformation. I had always assumed that once a user got transformed into a jock, they’d ignore the app from then on unless they wanted to change someone. I was very, very wrong, not just about that but about the purpose of the app itself. It’s not just for making people into jocks: it’s for finding the best ones.

The app generally works like any other social media app, with its members posting about their interests. It’s set up is a lot like Instagram, where pictures and videos are the main format used for posting, but what really makes it different from other social media apps is the content. You can probably guess what an app full of buff cocky jocks looks like, but I’ll confirm it for you: the app is a thirst trap paradise.

The entire app is stuffed with half naked –  and sometimes fully naked – photos of buff jocks, ones of all different kinds. If you can think up a jock related stereotype, they have a full hashtag dedicated to it. Just buff jocks playing sports, flexing and making out with other hot people, for as far. I know that doesn’t sound too different from normal social media apps, as most have a healthy NSFW side, but the posts have more in common then just showing jocks. Each and every post, every one that I saw, mentioned a Master. Some were talking about how they were getting pumped up at the gym for Master, some were talking about how they loved being jocks and were so glad Master had found them, and some were literally begging for Master to notice them, often wantonly describing how they’d debase themselves and be the sluttiest jock ever, all for him. Everyone on the app would post at least once a day about this mysterious Master. It doesn’t seem to matter if the jock is a dom, a sub, a top, a bottom, in a relationship, single, gay or even straight, all of them wanted this mysterious unnamed master – so much so they seemed to completely change personalities whenever he is mentioned. It seems instaJock has an additional side effect I didn’t know about till now: complete and utter devotion to their Master.

It took me a while, and some covert interviewing of a number of jocks in their DMs, but I think I figured out what's happening. The Jocks aren’t just posting for fun, they’re competing with each other. InstaJock isn’t really a social media app, it’s a sort of ranking app. Every day the jocks log on, post a picture of themselves with a caption somehow related to their Master, and leave likes on some of the other posts, usually the ones they find hot. If a jock’s post gets enough likes though, they get what every jock wants, what all of them are trying to get. They get to Go Viral.

Going Viral on IntsaJock isn’t like going viral on a regular app. It essentially means you’ve gotten enough likes, been reposted enough times, and have become popular enough on the site… that Master has noticed you. That's what the social media part of the app is really for. It’s just a way for Master’s jocks to organize themselves so only the hottest ones show up on his feed. If he really likes you, he’ll do more than just look too. Soon that Jock will disappear from his regular life, never to be seen again, whisked away to become a part of Master’s personal harem. This entire time the app has been about one thing: creating lovestruck sex slaves for the man who created InstaJock.

Like most actual social media apps, InstaJock jumps from one thing to another, and what's viral is always changing. But there are two tags that are always trending on InstaJock. The first, and most popular, is #JockMaster, which is only ever used by this mysterious Master when he makes a post. I’ve seen his account. He never shows his face on it, but from what little of his body that makes it into the photos, he’s… enchanting. As much as I hate to admit it, seeing just a bit of that creep almost made me drool. He usually only posts a couple times a week, as opposed to the jock who posts daily, but everything he posts goes viral on the app in moments. I’ll admit, there's something about his posts that is just… hypnotic. I almost set up an account after seeing one myself, and probably would have if Nick wasn’t there to stop me.

The other tag that's always trending is… more interesting, at least to me. It’s #MastersBoyfriend. It’s another tag used only by Master, and one he uses whenever he posts a picture of one particular member of his harem. 

Whenever he posts pictures… of my Uncle John.

I finally know who took my Uncle. I know who this Master is. I suspected it was him for a while, but now I’m sure. The man who made InstaJock and the man who turned my Uncle into a slutty buff himbo are one in the same. I finally have proof.

So now what?

**The identity of the person behind InstaJock AND the person behind my Uncle's transformation and kidnapping has finally been revealed! Been working up to this for a long time, and I'm glad to keep this story moving forward! Hope you liked it as much as I do! Thank you to @occamstfs once again for being absolutely awesome and inspiring!**

[steddieas-shegoes]

A little thing based on this post because it wouldn’t leave my brain:

“I just don’t understand why you won’t try to read it.”

Steve had heard Dustin say this exact sentence hundreds of times at this point.

“I mean, do you know how to read?”

Mike was an asshole. Steve loved him because he was part of the group and he’d been through the same things, but he was such a dick.

“Yes, I know how to read. I just don’t.”

Dustin rolled his eyes.

“If you don’t wanna read nerd shit just say so.”

Steve threw his arms up in frustration.

Steve was a nerd at heart. As a child, he would beg the nanny to take him to the library and the science museum that had real dinosaur fossils. There was something about the peace of exiting his reality and finding a new one among fantasy and history that was indescribable, even to this day.

But as he grew into his looks, he grew out of that phase. At least around others.

And with no nanny around to take him places, he settled for just being the popular guy who hung out with his friends after practice and threw parties at his forever empty house on Saturdays.

But secretly, he still found himself enjoying books late into the night. Never school books, or his grades would’ve been good enough for college, but always incredible novels that took him to other worlds with the most impressively brave people.

And then he lived a nightmare. A few times over. With concussions at every turn.

Now, anytime he tried to read, his head started pounding, his vision got blurry, and ears would start ringing. He stopped trying altogether after Starcourt, but he’d never really let go his love of books.

He occasionally let Robin read to him, but she would get distracted by a plot or character and go on a tangent, leaving Steve confused about what the actual story was. He hated being confused.

“Stevie, you got a minute?”

Eddie had been watching from his spot at the end of the table, where he’d been cleaning up the mess of D&D. He usually made the kids do it, but he’d let them off the hook tonight when they beat the monster and escaped his trap.

Steve and Eddie were friends, definitely. Maybe not close ones, but friends.

Steve had a little crush, definitely. Or a big one. Maybe.

So when Eddie shows him attention, he somewhat shamefully receives it like he’s dying of thirst in a desert.

Robin is the only one who’s noticed so far, but if he keeps acting like a dog being called by his master anytime Eddie talks to him, someone else will comment on it.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Steve asked as he made his way to Eddie.

The kids took this time to talk amongst themselves about the game and what they think will happen next week, and Steve couldn’t have been more grateful.

“You don’t have to tell me, but.” Eddie was tapping his fingers nervously against his leg. “Do you not know how to read?”

“Uh. No I do. I mean I graduated high school. I know it’s hard to believe.”

“Not judging if you can’t, man. I mean, I took three senior years. I’m the last person who can judge.”

“Yeah, but you’re smart. You just didn’t like school,” Steve replied with a pat to his shoulder.

Eddie glanced down at the contact, eyebrow raising and then falling back to normal quickly.

“Just seems like you’d have read something by now to get them off your ass.”

And that’s a really good point. Maybe he should’ve just suffered through a migraine so they’d leave him alone about it.

But migraines left him out for days sometimes, and he couldn’t exactly afford that right now.

“I guess it’s just not worth the migraine.”

He hadn’t meant to actually say it. He didn’t want Eddie to feel bad or for him to try to make him feel better about it or ask questions or talk about the concussion thing.

Actually, did he even know about the concussion thing? Things?

“You get migraines when you try to read?” Then realization hit Eddie hard. “Steve. Do you like reading?”

Something about the way Eddie was looking at him, like he was sad for him but not pitying him, made Steve want to cry.

“I used to, yeah.”

“Everyone out! Your parents are gonna have to come get you! No questions, no explanations, go!” Eddie yelled to the room.

Everyone stared blankly at him before they started protesting, Dustin loudest of all.

“Steve’s my ride!”

“Not anymore. Hitch a ride with Lucas.”

“But Lucas’ mom always squeezes my cheeks and tells me she hopes I never lose my baby fat.”

“She speaks for all of us. Get the hell out of here!”

Steve was actually impressed. Maybe a little turned on? God, he was a disaster.

As everyone cleared out of the room, Eddie patted the seat next to him. When Steve sat down, Eddie scooted his chair so close to him, his knees were touching Steve’s.

“Alright, so you’re gonna tell me about what books you like and what books you want to read and we’re gonna get started.”

Steve blinked at him. “Huh?”

“You have a list I’m sure.”

“Yeah, but…”

“Okay, then we better get started.”

“I mean, I’ve tried. I appreciate it, but even focusing on one page makes my eyes burn and my head hurt.”

“Got that. I’m not asking you to read.”

Sometimes Steve was worried the concussions had actually knocked some screws loose. He wasn’t getting it.

“I’m gonna read to you, Stevie.”

“You don’t have to do that. I’m sure a lot of them will be movies and I can just watch them.”

“It’s not the same. You know it’s not.”

He was right. Steve didn’t have much patience for movies. And sometimes even those gave him migraines if there were a lot of bright lights and explosions.

“Yeah. But still. You don’t have to do that. You might not even like the books.”

“Ah, this isn’t a completely free service, my liege.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I don’t have extra money to pay you, dude.”

“Not money. I get to pick a book to read to you when we finish the first book you pick.”

“Is it The Hobbit?”

“It is,” Eddie looked so smug.

“Well, that was my first choice,” Steve stared back, equally as smug.

“So, your house is empty.”

“Yep.”

“And I’m assuming you own this book.”

“I do.”

“And it’s getting late.”

Steve looked out the window at the pitch black skies.

“It’s late.”

“So I could stay and read you to sleep.”

“Won’t I miss some of the book?”

“I’ll stop when you’re asleep.”

Steve’s heart was practically begging him to say yes. Eddie reading to him in his bed? Possibly falling asleep together? Maybe even waking up together? It couldn’t be a better proposition. Well. It could.

“Will you stay even if I fall asleep?”

Eddie smirked. “If that’s what you want, sweetheart.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d called Steve that, but it was the first time it felt like he meant it in a non-teasing way.

“Okay.”

So they both changed into some of Steve’s comfy clothes, got into his bed, and Eddie started reading The Hobbit.

Just as he was during D&D and real life, Eddie was animated, providing different voices for different characters and often giving long pauses to let Steve soak in what the words meant.

Steve didn’t even have to ask him to do that. He just did.

Steve fell asleep somewhere between halfway and the end of chapter two, but Eddie stayed.

And they woke up the next day with Steve’s head resting on Eddie’s chest, Eddie’s arms wrapped around him to keep him as close as possible.

They finished the The Hobbit in a week, and because Eddie was now committed to making sure Steve was well-read, they started moving through his list rapidly, falling for each other in new ways every time Eddie turned a page.

Part 2 (Angst)  / Part 2 (Fluffy) /  Part 2 (Explicit)

[evilminji]

You know, i just had the mental image of a sith in star wars finding a ritual or something to summon a ghost and end up summoning danny, while in space. The sith is struggling to try and convince this otherworldly being to help them do evil and their just staring out the nearest viewport in awe about the amount of new space things to discover.

How does it feel? To have such a big and wrinkly brain? So full of smartness?? :O

That? Is Brilliant~☆

It could be a Krell situation. Stress of the war got to be too much. Or a Dooku situation, discontent fed and fed until it burst. Like a silently festering wound, left unseen and untreated.

Regardless of HOW it happened?

The lil shit steals from Madame Nu. Like a CRAZY PERSON.

Rightfully terrified that she will Kick Their Ass into the stratosphere for touching HER archives, they head straight for the "Sith Stuff". What does it DO? What RESEARCH did they do? HA! You ask too much of them! There is no PLAN here!

Their brain has gone to SOUP with the Dark Side. It's all wild mood swings and impulse decisions! Research and careful precautions takes PATIENCE. Planning. The calm and rationality they just THREW OUT AN AIR LOCK.

They are high on the initial high of the Dark Side that few, if any, Dark Siders ever SURVIVE. That TEST of their character and control, as they stand in the storm they have unleashed upon themselves.

You want POWER?

Okay.

HAVE IT.

Like trying to swallow a waterfall. Drink the ocean, one cup at a time. Endless, yes, but equally so? It is BRINE. Not the life giving waters of the Light. The more you drink... the deeper your thirst. The faster you die. Can you control yourself? Suffer it? For that's all that's left... suffering. Thirst. Endless, Endless Thirst.

Water water everywhere, and it shall grind your bones to DUST when next you drink.

Welcome to the Dark Side! Was it WORTH it?

But, ah, our Fallen's brain is muddled soup. They think so. They are not themselves. May never be again. That's why it's a tragedy. Because it both IS and ISN'T their hands that takes that Sith artifact. Because who they WERE would be appalled.

They don't even know what they are grabbing, do they? No one does. Seized from the ruins of a laboratory. Long dead horrors, painted upon the walls. A Sith's obsession with the afterlife of his people. Ghosts. Beings that were, supposedly, DIFFERENT then Force Ghosts.

The notes speak of "green". A vision or experience in his youth. Brief. The world tearing open. A gate to somewhere "green". The Sith believed it was the afterlife. Felt death inside the gate. Described as "peaceful, joyful, driven, and eternal", he was ultimately unable to full articulate the full scope of what he believed he saw.

Now his last device is in the hands of a fallen jedi.

Who is going to USE it.

P A N I C

Obviously, the Temple gaurds chase the crazy mofo as hard as they can. Without a DOUBT, every master on hand and available, is roped in by Madame Nu to FOLLOW that psychopath, before he unleashs FORCE KNOWS WHAT, directly over CORUSCANT AIRSPACE!!! The SENATE. THE TEMPLE?! HUNDREDS OF MILLIONS OF LIVES!?

Fallen McFuckface? Clearly did not think this through (nooooo, REALLY? Everyone is SHOCKED! Shocked, they tell you!), panics. Which is, unfortunately, the LAST thing they wanted them to do. FUCK™.

Masters and Knights are LITERALLY cutting through the hull, kicking down the door, they can survive limited Space exposure and honestly? We're not THAT high yet! Let's see you jump to hyperspace with HOLES in your ship! (Fucking, DONT GIVE THEM IDEAS! They're insane, remember?!) (Shit. You're right.)

When?

.......Green...~¤~

Hilariously? The Sith can plan all they want. But you can NEVER plan for stupid. Make a plan idiot proof, as they say, and the Universe will just build a better idiot. All that carefully curated misery, hatred, and suffering? That DISPAIR. The webs upon webs of Darkness carefully spread across the Senate district? Choking the Temple?

Mmmmm, tasty kindling. Good fuel! Sith Artifact LIKEY~!

It RIPS and TEARS. A screaming MAW IN THE SKY. A black hole for Dark Side energy that takes and takes and TAKES. Dropping people all across the district below. KILLING the particularly irredeemably monstrous. After all~!

The Force? Is in all things.

You DON'T have to be Force Sensitive, to Fall. Just a BASTARD. Just cruel and selfish, hateful and needlessly petty. All the things that would sour and turn a Jedi? Can sour and turn YOU too. Just slower, quiter, and with less explosions. But! It still wraps the Dark around your bones. Feeds it into your blood.

Kills you, when it all gets ripped away.

One must wonder.... how many Senators die instantly? And how many die in the days to come? Slowly, painfully, bed-bound as they reflect on who they had become? The fall out will be SPECTACULAR.

The Jedi's fault? How? How is their being stretched so thin they could not mount a proper response THEIR fault? How is YOUR corruption, THEIR fault? Please note all the individuals who were FINE! Baffled, but FINE!

But perhaps you are correct.

Perhaps, for the safety of ALL, we should MOVE our main Temple.

We've done it before. We can do it again. Or do you not want to HAVE that conversation? Hmmm? No, no, we wouldn't want to be a THREAT to you FINE people! You HONORABLE senators! Please, continue to yell and make demands! SEE HOW FAR IT GETS YOU!

Would they normally send someone more diplomatic? Yes. But STRANGELY all of THEM had weird SITH Darkness on them that got violently ripped off! They are in the halls of healing. Unconscious. Because getting Sith shit, that was hooked into your brain, violently ripped out? Not GREAT! 0 out of 10 healers recommend!

Fuuuuck you! Yes, I bite! And be warned, my Race is VENOMOUS! *aggravated Jedi Senior Padawan noises, hissing*

Danny? Got pulled out in FULL regalia. Just FULL on Ice and Stars. Full "I am the Cosmos beholding itself, I am the dead child you could not save.", beyond vanta-black armor and cape like a window to ever shifting stars, crown of aurora borealis playing off the eternal ice, all upon a youngling that seems forever floating... frozen in time. By death.

Was it sacrifice? Natural? Is it just a shape the spirit takes? IS he a youngling?

They both can and can not feel him.

Both can and can not SEE him.

He is so young....

A child king, hsmiles with such shared grief, when they look upon that too large crown, upon a head that should never have been forced to wear it. Like a child, forced to wear his father's mantle too soon. Is that what happened? Was it something worse? They can not bring themselves to ask.

Not when he is so... so DELIGHTED?

Playing with the younglings. In AWE of each and everyone of them. The things they learned each day. "Who wants to go flying?" "Try to float me!" "I believe in you." Oh, he BASKS in their Light like a desperate thing. Showers them with praise and attention, gentle corrections and undivided attention.

He is empathic. Alive and dead. Fascinated by the stars.

And of course... King™.

No, no, he's not interested in your Senate. Doesn't like um, Doesn't trust um. The vibes are RANCID. But I mean... if you REALLY need an army so bad? Since it seems you guys are pushing yourself WAY outside of your normal duties? Like, he doesn't know, uhhh farmers burning crops to prevent starvation? Something like that.

Just? Since you hate it? But are worried people will die? Or those Clone guys (Sweet! Clones! Ellie is gonna be HYPED.) Are gonna die? He could, you know... fix that for you?

JUST you.

We're gonna have to get it in writing. And they won't do anything BUT stop the robots and help people. They don't actually answer to you. Soooo.....?

.......are you offering us an army? (Yeah. An endless skeleton army. Lead by the greatest Generals to have ever died.).....(they get bored.)

And SUDDENLY? Oh look! The Galactic suffering levels? Just fucking DROPPED. All those SENTIENT Clone soldiers! Dying in vain, in agony, ALONE? Not happening! Skeletons can get blasted apart, fade, reassemble, and march RIGHT BACK OUT! This is GREAT fun!

And even better? Unlike with Pariah? THIS time they march? King PHANTOM is sending them to HELP people! Woooooo! Destroy metal crunchy things! Help clean up rubble! Build a house! Rescue trapped people from rubble! Tireless effort! Honor and service! Thanks for the FREE METAL! *rips apart your robots*

There are no anti-ecto technologies here! The BEST they have is Force users! Which? Ha ha ha! GOOD LUCK. That's what? One? TWO? Of you?? To HOW MANY of us??? *cackles in bone army*

And! If they happen upon OTHER things they don't like? Whoop! Should'a thought of that! Before being a DICK! King Phantom says slavery is ILLEGAL. And we, the FORMER slave army of King Pariah, have Millennium Long ISSUES with that! (Easy to remove that chip, when you can reach THROUGH a person. Here you Slaver FUCK. YOU have it! In fact! Have ALL of them. From each and every slave.)

Anikin LOVES his new Bone friends. They are WONDERFUL. Him n them? Bonded. He's made them all speech boards. They're plotting the gruesome end of the Hutt cartel together. He's showing them the holo of his wedding. They're making Super Advanced Chip scan-.....

W....Why is his scanner going off? There should be nothing near by for it to recognize. The only thing HERE is him, his Bone Buddies, and Rex for supervision.... *mounting horror as he slowly waves the device around* *beep*

R-Rex?

...

......

The Clones? De-chipped in like... two days. There are too many skeletons to NOT have them be able to just? *reach in, feel for the Non-Clone bit, grab it, pull out* didn't even need surgery! But boy, oh, boy! Is Anikin upset. That sure is a Slave chip! Hey, Kamino! Have a Chosen One and his Bones Bros! Some Clones in orbit with Real Big Guns.

And Palatine? Is? PISSED.

His whole ass Empire is dissolving in his hands. The Sith Master Plan! Going up in smoke! Walls are closing in! All because of ONE(1) glowing BRAT.

Wanna bet he goes after him... with LIGHTNING? In human form, of course. Danny. Who DIED to electricity. Who has, throughout ALL of this? Been chilling in the Jedi temple, finally... FINALLY! Unwinding. Putting down the stress on his shoulders. Healing from his childhood. Cuddling cute babies and laying on the grass to nap, listen to the waterfall. Be at PEACE, surrounded by the Light of the Jedi.

Danny, who has been making friends. Enjoying the archives. For once in his stressful, STRESSFUL life? Letting OTHER PEOPLE deal with it. Playing with alien puppies and weird not-cats. Trying new foods! Seeing about adopting some droids that Tucker might get on with. Sorry "buying" some droids. (As though those Restraining Bolts aren't coming off the SECOND they droids are in his hands.)

It's been cool. Relaxing. Great for his mental health.

They have folks LITERALLY called Mind Healers here! Jazz would love it!

So obviously Sith face ruins it. Hurts his friends and blasts him with LIGHTNING. The kids are crying and terrified. This was supposed to be some sort of "learn about how the Republic works" day trip to the Senate! He was helping chaperone. They are being so, SO brave. Staying together. Trying to get their teacher out of harms ways.

He? Is? PISSED.

How DARE you. How FUCKING DARE YOU?! A fight between adults? Not his Reality, not his business. Clockwork drilled that into his head. He CAN'T keep the Multiverse together. Fight every fight for everyone, save everything. People have free will. Have to decide for THEMSELVES. Choose to do the right thing.

It doesn't mean SHIT if they don't save themselves. Wont last, in the end, because they won't have LEARNED a damn thing. He GETS that! But KIDS?! Ooooh ho ho! He DRAWS THE LINE AT KIDS! At shocking the SHIT out of him with LIGHTNING!

You want to poke the sleeping titan 'til it wakes up?

Well congrats!

YOU HAVE HIS ATTENTION NOW!

*inhale*

*Wail*

Palpatine goes through the HOLE where about fifteen walls USED to be. Half of Coruscant physically hears it and EVERYONE with even a TOUCH of Force sensitivity FEELS it. Across the entire planet and up into orbit.

Dying screams and the crackle of electricity. Regret. Fear. The desperate need to protect, in your final moment. Pain and pressure, the cool slide of Death come to take it all away. You were just fourteen. You were just fourteen! You died screaming, you came back screaming, in the place between... will you ever stop screaming?

You are the Galaxy, the Cosmos, the INFINITE. You are just a child.

How many souls died screaming?

Can't you hear ALL OF THEM?

Pissed or not, kids come first. Fuuuuuck that guy. Danny picks up the teacher, the kids, and back to the Temple they go. Teacher survives. Kids cling. Senate gets itself into a snit over the "unprovoked attack". But the thing is? A whole CLASS of Baby Jedi say the Chancellor is the Sith Lord. Look too spooked to be lying. Their teacher, too WOUNDED for this to be a prank.

The Jedi close rank.

Palpatine tries to use the Clones.

You know... the De-chipped by their Bone Bros Clones.

Commander Fox? Gets to finally, FINALLY(!!!) live out his long time fantasy... of shooting the fucker. Slug thrower. Tragically, fails to kill him. But the attempt WAS enthusiastic! We applaud his attempt. Commander Fox gets to join Danny in the Gardens, under a Crechelings pile, staring at the stain glass ceiling and Not Thinking Or Having Responsibilities.

Huh.... kid's right. This IS nice.

Fox enjoys being a climb-able lump for the Crechelings. Welcome to the club, my dude.

The other Jedi? THEY can figure it out. The Temple is literally unassailable. If needs be, his army can PICK IT UP AND MOVE IT. Danny is Vibin. Have a fruit. You hear about Skywalker? Making pretty good ground on his whole "one man and massive bone army campaign against Slavery" thing. Missed the whole.... his buddy was an asshole reveal. Apparently reception is spotty. *shrugs*

His wife's nice though! *various married Jedi agree, Obi-Wan continues to sulk because: "REALLY?! You didn't even INVITE ME!? My own Padawan! To his WEDDING! Anikin how COULD YO-!?"*

[lichenes]

#1 dad(dy)

based on those tweets/tumblr posts: ⓪ ① ② ③ ④ ⑤ ⑥ ⑦ CW: mentions of smoking, actor au wc: 571 .  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ .  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚

The sound of clapperboard was heard as the day of filming began. “Today, due to immense demand, Gabriel Fouché, will be reading your thirst tweets!” Said the director with a bright smile. A part of the contract with the studio recording “Arcane” was to take part in a few interviews, this one was a bit- unusual for him. 

“RIP to Silco, you would’ve loved vaping ‘bandaged heart’, you would’ve been doing crazy smoke tricks on tiktok ‘R. N’.” He chuckled. “What does R, N mean?” Laughs could be heard behind the cameras. Someone answered. “Right now.” Gabriel nodded. 

“Well I did have to learn how to smoke cigars and do tricks with the smoke for the role. I do have to admit I am a habitual cigarette smoker so it was infinitely easier to master the art.” He paused for a moment. “As for the tiktok tricks - I’m a jughead when it comes to technology so unless there would be someone doing all the recording… you aren’t seeing those videos any time soon.” 

“The children yearn for the mines, and my photo underneath it.” He burst out laughing, putting his hand on his mouth. “Ahahah- okay, okay. Yeah they do.” 

“I think about this Silco moment every day, my god he’s so hot here.” Gabriel tilted his head. “Hmm… it seems most fans of Silco find him most attractive when he’s kicking the camera. I wonder why.” He put his hand on his chin in faux thought and then laughed.

“Sorry but older Silco ‘greater-than’ young Silco. I actually have to disagree on that.” He said. “Younger Silco was in one scene and he captured so many hearts, both on set and amongst the viewers, that Older Silco didn’t manage to do with all his screen time. Younger Silco is something special…” 

“Hashtag Zaundads, actually!” Gabriel got closer to the camera and put his hand to his mouth almost as to whisper a secret. “Me and Gerard actually kissed to prepare for the alternate universe episode, to really get into character, you know.” Gasps were heard in the studio. “I’m joking.” He said winking towards the camera.

“Silco’s left eye is missing eyelids so I guess he was sleeping like this every night. Exactly what happened I can attest to that.” He nodded solemnly. “Actually, SIlco just doesn’t sleep ever, that’s how he runs Zaun, he does not let his guard down even for a moment. Poor guy, he needs to relax more.” 

“P, L, S - please, I assume? - Stop posting Silco thirst he looks like my dad, and a comment left under that, is your dad single? I’d love to meet my doppelganger! Send me a message and we shall schedule it.” He said half-joking as an email popped up on the screen. 

“And the final one- okay who the hell was all over my dash two years ago thirsting over Silco, I understand you now. I want his whole wardrobe and he can read the dictionary to me until I fall asleep. I actually have a deal to voice a certain someone in a new project we’ve been working on with the cast so keep your eyes open!” He said. “And as for my wardrobe, I’ve seen some pretty talented people replicating my outfits! So it’s clearly easy to steal Silco’s wardrobe.” 

“Thank you all for watching!!” He exclaimed with his million dollar smile as the cameras stopped rolling.

.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ .  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚

masterlist

[shinjisdone]

𝑇𝜎 𝑆𝜎𝑓𝜏𝜀𝜋 𝛼 𝑊𝛼𝑟𝑟𝜄𝜎𝑟’𝑠 𝐻𝜀𝛼𝑟𝜏 (Vinland Saga; Thorfinn - 𝑺𝒍𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝑨𝒓𝒄, 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 4)

In which you have joined Askeladd’s band…and grow closer to the Son of Thors - though as your future seemed promising, his thirst for revenge devastated all that you had left.

[Headcanons of how it would be like to meet Thorfinn again after he shattered your heart (based on season 2; both platonic and romantic)

Sᴇᴀsᴏɴ ₁ ﹙Wᴀʀ Aʀᴄ﹚ is here

Part 1: - (Thorfinn as a slave and his struggles) Part 2: - (Thorfinn trying to accept your existence as a slave)

Part 3: - (Thorfinn finds a reason to live, you finally see him)

Tag list:

@luopenis , @jinsecho , @mitsureigen , @theknightssecrets , @lana-del-stan , @theghostofanficpresent , @night-shadowblood-writes2

[Mentions of murder, death, war, slave trade, harrasment against women and whatever awful things happened in the viking era. Slavery will be a main subject throughout the entire arc. Mostly gender-neutral examples but female-leaning ones are there, too.]

[TW: This part will specifically mention: depressed tension, attempted murder, suicidal thoughts, lots of talking, lotsa dialoge, short but detailed description of strangulation, finding reasons to still keep living including being begged to]

Mighty River, Release My Soul...

Your arms were as warm as they were on that winter day.

You scolded him back then too, though he reckoned it was far more vicious than your prattling now.

The way you looked at him, were so focused on tending him even if it was for a mere moment, was like breathing in fresh, icey cold air that he has been deprived from for weeks. It coursed through him and stung each limb. It only found an end after Pater cleared his throat.

Immediately you let go of Thorfinn, spinning to the man with a confused noise and a gasp. He smiled. "Thorfinn is fine now, you don't need to worry. These two boys just need to take the rest of the day off. Now that you are willing to talk...I believe we'd best have a conversation. Not with Master Ketil, do not worry."

Still, that flustered panic did not leave your face as you meekly nodded and followed him. Pater waved Thorfinn and Einar one last goodbye before motioning you to follow with an easy gait. You looked back to Thorfinn before tailing after Pater.

Einar let go of his baited breath. "How..strange. They...you really know them, don't-" The brunette chocked on his breath as Thorfinn was disappearing into the dense forest. Work had to be done, injured or not. Perplexed and with a huff of irritation, he ran after him.

First he doesn't know how to show gratitude and say 'thank you' and now he is shrugging off - someone who was scared to death for him!

What the hell is this guy's problem?!

The way to the forest was easier than the last few weeks. The both of them were able to cut down quite a lot of trees, clearing the path, but the stumps remained, leaving the woods like a rugged wasteland of dead trees.

Einar didn't even noticed his stomps and the way his bruisened feet dug into the soil. Narrowed blue eyes watched Thorfinn swing down the axe again, again, again. Cut, cut and cut.

His movements were fluid as he observed him, as he wasn't threatened this day at all. As if he wasn't a second from throwing his life away at all.

But he dodged. He sprung out of the way and didn't seem to be aware to have tried to kill Snake. He seemed so...light and out of it. Like a drunken bird.

"Hey, Thorfinn." The blonde barely showed any sign of listening to him, continuing to cut. "Have you ever been to war?"

Thorfinn chopped once, "I have."

Einar's gaze darkened. He answered him clearly and with focus.

"Have you ever killed people?"

Again, he cut. The tree fell down swiftly. "I have."

"How many? A few? Five, ten?"

"Why do you want to know? Don't you hate war?"

His blue eyes snapped up as the blonde halted. If he stalled or wanted to hear his answer, he didn't know. He just knew that each and every day of being with him confused him more, made a tiny flame in him flick, made the gall in his throat come up.

"I'm asking because...if you went to war and killed, then how-"

Einar took a deep breath and swallowed the gall that threatened to spit out, "-How can that person be worried about you? Why do they want you to live if you killed?"

The axe hovered above his head before he slowly lowered it down - and having it fall with a thud to the ground. His dull eyes oversaw the mess he left. "I don't know...", "Why not? They seem to know you. Are they like you?"

"No." Thorfinn quickly and sharply answered. Though his next words fell flat and soft again, "They aren't a dog like me."

Not when you looked at him like that. Not when you were so heavily relieved by seeing him breathing and battered, like his father was back then.

...I Need To See The World...

Waged war since he was a child.

Ever since he was a wee lad, he said, but he couldn't remember the exact age. He is only about eighteen, so how long ago was it that he can't even remember? Could he even recall it?

It sounded...ridicilous as Einar walked back to the little barn they called their home - or beds, he wasn't sure - back hunched and steps sulken, though his face was as dark as thunder.

He pillaged and killed and stole of people's hard work. Their land, wheat and loved ones. And he can't even remember who, when and why?

Let that fool cut away at the last standing trees as roughed up as he is. Einar is allowed to rest and he'd rather drown in his thoughts alone, bundled up in hay than look at Thorfinn for another minute.

Falling asleep alone feels somewhat sad...but at least he'd fall asleep without any screaming waking him into the early night.

It was the sound of spilled water that made him shoot up his gaze up at the person holding a bucket and rags with them. You shuffled awkwardly to the side, standing right in front of the barn.

Einar was quick to wipe the glare off his face. "Oh...good evening."

"...G-Good evening." You struggled to reply, he thought.

Einar couldn't help but make a long and wide face, pursing his lips as his blue eyes took in your uncertain form. You finally met his eyes with your own. "Are you waiting for Thorfinn?" Your brows rose as you nodded. He must've figured it out quick - or you are just that predictable.

"Pater allowed me to go see him quick. For his ear. Just to make sure the wound didn't fester through the day." "He's still back in the forest chopping. If you wait too long, you might get in trouble."

Shuffling a bit, you hesitated. "I'll wait a bit more. He's stubborn."

The brunette's shoulder sank. With a sigh, he swiftly sat down on the boulder next to the barn's entrance and crossed his arms. "I'll wait too, then."

He sat there on the right, while you stood on the left side. You stared at him briefly, confusion written on your face. The sky turned even darker, with the stars shining through their hiding spots. The moon was nowhere to be seen but the lights from the master's estate still offered some solace. It was illuminated enough for both people to see each other and perhaps recognize an possible incomer.

The silence did not feel heavy yet pressuring. As if any moment, something was waiting to happen.

You glanced at the man and took a deep breath. "...Are you hurt somewhere, too?"

"Uh, what?" Einar jumped and whipped his head to you. "You were there too, right? With the guests. They must've hurt you, too." "Oh! Well - I'm fine enough. Just a few bruises," He rolled his shoudler while chuckling dryly, "The real unlucky bastard is Thorfinn."

You hummed and rose the bucket in your hand. "Pater didn't give me any balms or medicines but the water should cool the bruises." "Ah, uh," Einar waved with his arms, laughing as he shook his head, "No, no, I'm okay. Honestly I...got really off scott-free. Really, the one who has it the worst is...Thorfinn."

You pulled a face - Einar could not decipher what it meant - and went back on being on the look out. "I'd figure. He likes getting in trouble."

The man glanced in your direction, taking in your unreadable, narrowed expression briefly, before staring back down the hill as well, though halfheartedly. "You know him?" He dared to glance to you again, "That he's like that?"

The grip on the bucket tightened and your eyes darted around the cool meadow below. For a moment, you shifted aimlessly but decided to give in. "Yes. He...is an old friend."

There was no need to pretend. To act coy and unknowing when you so foolishly started to speak and cradled him in your arms. Not when you were waiting here like an idiot for him to return and see him again just this once for tonight.

As if he was deserving of it. Thorfinn did not return when you ran after him, did not stay as you lead him to Leif's boat and now you are waiting for him again - and the only certainty you had was that he had the order to do so as a slave.

You yourself needed to oblige.

Lying here will bring you nothing but punishments and you had to be on your best behaviour, even if it meant not being with Thorfinn for however long you were allowed to. But for now, you could use Pater as an excuse and do all that you could - even if this whole place, Thorfinn himself and your own actions didn't make any sense to you.

You are a slave here now on this farm. Why should you even try?

Back with Askeladd you could fight back. But here, your hands are only untied by Ketil's orders.

"There he is." Einar lowly let out and made you snap your head up to see the short blonde march towards you with a hunched back and one arm holding the other bandaged one. His own lidded gaze was focused on the ground before they widened upon your sight.

"Your friend has been waiting." Einar got up with a start, his voice stern and certain, "I'll be just outside. Let's head to bed soon after." Thorfinn barely had the chance to utter a protest as the brunette simply turned around the corner of the barn, staying a few steps away from it. Though his eyes quickly went back to you, wide and unsure, before he walked into the barn and sat down on the hay. You kneeled down next to him, dunking the cloth into the water.

Wordlessly, you got up and went around to his side, pulling his greasy strands away to observe his ear. Thorfinn felt the gentle, almost ghostly tips of your fingers graze his shell as he unblinkingly hung his head, sitting cross-legged. His hands were clutched and the fingers would tense around one another, slightly, as if shivering from the cold.

There was nothing to see. No festering, no tissue. A clean cut that won't affect his hearing at all. You knew, but wanted to see him anyway. Perhaps it was the paranoia, perhaps you didn't trust Pater's word, felt like you couldn't, or you truly just wanted to see him again. This ghost of a man from the past.

You didn't know. But you knew you were a fool for feeling drawn to him after all this time, for wanting to see if he is really alright.

Gaze remained on the wound for a while before you let his hair slip off your hold and kneeled down next to him again. Watching him, Thorfinn didn't meet your eyes, not even when you brought the wet, cold cloth up to pat his face.

His jawline felt thinner. The short stubbles tickled your skin and bent back against the cloth. You couldn't remember him with any stubbles, let alone a sliver of what seems to be a beard ever appear on his grimsome mug. Blonde hair heavy and stringy tickling his shoulders - he used to hate having long hair. It bothered him so that he'd cut it whenever it got too long for his tastes, leaving him with this disheveled, wild look. But here, he was downcast, downtrodden, like nothing he has ever been before or wanted to be. Yet his eyes stayed the same. The sorrow you saw reflected in the deep brown, the same you saw that winter day.

Still, Thorfinn didn't want to look at you.

...To The Unknown, I'll Go Against My Sorrow...

"What are you doing?" Was all he muttered instead, staring holes into the ground. The cloth hung in the hair before you dapped it in water again. "I don't know. I think I wanted to see if you're still...here."

Pressing the water out, you took his limb hands and gently glided the cloth over his course skin. "You shouldn't. You'll get in trouble and..." For a moment, Thorfinn glanced to the side, "...I'll drag you down with me."

You couldnt help the frown as you focused back on his hands and picking out the splinters of wood. Thorfinn dragged you down with him ever since you met him. Drowning together seemed like fate, a curse that befell upon you the moment you so foolishly returned his dagger.

Is it punishment for not being like Askeladd and letting him die? For not being like Canute and letting him be? Are people like you just meant to suffer in this world, all caused by your own actions?

It felt like it. Yet here you were with him again. Was a reunion another form of punishment, prolonging your suffering just a bit more before you die?

Was sitting here and tending to him suffering as well?

"I can't be dragged lower than this. There's nothing else." Finally, Thorfinn looked at you and the action was as painful as he thought it'd be. Your hair was longer, face bearing more and you've grown, too. Lidded eyes were focused on his calloused hand, the shadows of the night consuming you, not even the stars were bright enough. Hesitation would flicker within every minute, every moment, if it's really you - yet then his eyes would unwittingly search for the familiar injuries you had in the past, that one uniquness you wore, a certain pattern of speech and it would ease all doubts he had, eliminate them with the memory from just today. When you embraced him. When you told him he should be back in Iceland.

Thorfinn turned his hand around, grabbing one of yours, while the other one swiped the cloth in your hand off, as if it meant nothing in this, as if his injuries meant nothing at all, and held both of your hands in a tight, suffocating grip. With every passing second, they trembled more.

"You shouldn't be here. You should be somewhere far away, somewhere that isn't here. I'm doing this to you." He glared at your hands with an anguished frown, gripping them as if they could be swept away any second while yours were lying limbly in his. "I thought if I could be here...it'll be fine. But I'm still finding ways of doing this to you. Even after all I did...I'm still managing to hurt someone, and that's you."

Suddenly, he whipped his wide-eyed stare to you, taking in your own frustrated and chagrin-filled face. Your dry, pressed lips, the frown etched onto your visage, your bulging eyes. Thorfinn felt like he needed to continue before you began tearing up. "I'm...still me. But I will be here tomorrow. And the day after that." The blonde hesitated - before deciding to not promise it. He can't tell how much faith you can still put in him and neither can he.

Your watery gaze narrows before looking back over your shoulder. The house's lights are out and you'll need some to find your way back.

Slowly, weakly almost, you got on your feet. Hands still clung to Thorfinn's as they slowly slipped out of his grip. With one last look you offered to him, you hoarsely whispered, "You'll be here."

The man could only nod with wide eyes as you finally let go and went back. The darkness of the night swallowed you whole, only the sound of splashing water letting him know you're still nearby before only the sound of critters were left.

As Einar turned towards the entrance of the barn, he saw Thorfinn lying on his side. He watched him, the blonde almost motionless but the rise of his chest was a relief. He wondered how on earth Thorfinn could've fallen asleep so quickly but he didn't care enough to ponder for a minute more. This...guy. He was another beast, wasn't he?

He killed and pillaged and caused people like him and Arnheid and Pater to end up in places like this. Though Master Ketil was a kind trader, he was an exception to the rule. Anywhere else, and he might have it worse. And you seemed to be just like this guy.

One by one, the brunette took a step closer. How many has he killed? And have you taken lives as well? Can any of you remember?

The hay glided off his legs like snow. Have you caused fires, burned down fields and houses, flung spears and arrows into people?

He stood in front of him. The hay was warm around his knees. This murderer is now cutting down trees to make a field, to plant, to grow, to thrive. To feed people. To still their hunger, use the wood for houses and tools and use the wheat to bargain and trade.

His thick, scarred hands fit around his neck. The anger burning inside him and filling the hole in his chest made it easy to clam them around tightly. Einar could feel his pulse, steady and clear against his skin. Further back was part of his spine, feeling every movement of each inhale. Yet it feels so surprisingly soft when he puts pressure. Soft as his fingers curl around the back of his neck, squeezing the spine in, feeling his pulse quicken and his breath labored. The peaceful snores turned into winces, into pleas for the pain to stop.

Just a bit more. More. The blonde gasps, wiggling around in the hay as his whimpers turned into groans of pain. Somehow he could still breath.

"...Shit."

The throat was warm but Einar could feel his palms getting sweaty. In an blink of an eye, he surprised himself of how quickly he let go. His squatted legs trembled and stumbled back. Thorfinn didn't stop screaming.

Shit. He can't do it. Einar can't kill someone!

It's scary. The feel of someone's neck around your hands is terrifying and daunting, like a weight itself is put on his chest even though he is pretending to be the predator. To be stronger. To be the winner. He can't do it. He doesn't want to do it. He doesn't want to hate. He doesn't want anyone to die.

Suddenly his hands whipped out into the air, wailing around for help. Thorfinn gasped for air, only to screech out more. Even when Einar tried to kill him, he's still throwing a tantrum.

Quivering with hitched gasps, coughing and panting. It's the same every night.

A man like him. It's all nightmares, every night, and he knows it but now - now he wants to live to keep dreaming and live to keep seeing you and live to keep chopping down trees. Yet still, he feels so out of place here.

A desperate inhale and he reckoned he wanted to call for someone. His sweaty hand stiffened. In an blink of an eye he could feel it coil to a fist, pressure forcing his fingers down and he snapped his gaze wide open. Einar's hand clung around his.

"...You..." Thorfinn could finally feel the coolness of the air, the way the hay prickled his back as he desperately sucked in deep breaths like a man starved of food.

A good minute passed, at least to Einar, and Thorfinn shuffled around to sit up. He wiped the sweat off his face before glancing towards the brunette's back. Finally he calmed down, and noticed how dry his mouth was while swallowing. "...Why..." The blonde licked his lips, "...Why do you wake me...everytime I have a nightmare?" He took another breath and could clearly hear the crickets, hiding among the high grass, now. "...I...killed people, too." Propping his knee up, he leaned his elbow on it and his face against his hand - scarred and big enough to cover half his downtrodden visage. "I helped pillage and kill in each village I passed by. People like you. For years. I am...I am as despicable as the warriors that killed your family. And I'll just drag you down, too. So why-!"

Suddenly, Einar shot up, like a predator seeing his chance. Swiftly he snapped to him, a steel-tight grip on his tunic and a glare as dark as thunder as tears welled up in his eyes. "So, you wanna die, huh?!" He gave him a good shake and Thorfinn let it happen, "You wanna die here in the woods you chop down?! You and your - listen," His tone turned dark and Thorfinn's eyes widened, "I don't know exactly what happened to you. And I don't wanna know! I can't even imagine it!" Another rock, "But even if we are far down in our lowest point, there are - there are still some things we can be glad about to experience! Even if we just eat, work, sleep and shit all day, it's worth something! Never had anything good happen to me, my ass! When you get cleaned up all nice, even when its with a stinky, worn out rag, it's still something good! By someone...someone that cares about you! And all of that...all of that is only possible because someone let you live!"

Through gritted teeth, he swallowed his snot and fought against his tears. Images and voices of his mother and sister flashed by and Einar bit his lip to focus on the pain. He shook Thorfinn again.

"So be grateful for that at least! Do you hear me?!" He couldn't help but let a shaky sigh escape him. He didn't even have the strength to throw the blonde to the ground - he'd let that happen, too. So his grip grew softer and in defeat, Einar slumped down on his side of the barn. "Besides," He muttered, "It's not like you were the one who killed my family."

His brown eyes observed his hunched back, the way his body curled into a ball. Quiet and steady were his breaths as Thorfinn looked back to his hand. His scarred, calloused hand Einar took to get him back to the waking world, to the cold and dark night, the crisp air as crickets played their songs. It was better. Calmer than any other place he had ever been to.

"...Thank you, Einar." His voice was a mere attempt to utter his gratitude but it made Einar's heart beat faster. "Thank you for always waking me when I have a nightmare."

"...Yeah. Can't get a good night's sleep with you brailing around. Just go to sleep, Thorfinn."

"I will. I'll get up with you tomorrow."

Mighty River, Release My Soul, Out To The Open Gold...

He did wake up first.

Washed his face, stretched, got his axe. Waited for Einar to finish his chatting with Arnheid as you came around the corner.

It seemed like Pater was not angry last night nor did you get in trouble. Thorfinn couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief.

Einar noticed you as well and tried to give his best welcoming smile. "...Good morning!" The brunette noticed the crack in his voice but tried to brush off his embarassment with a wider grin. You blinked and gave a somber reply. "Oh...good morning." Your eyes immediately went to the shorter blonde, seeing him ready with the axe over his shoulder. His locks hid the shine in his gaze. He, too, greeted you. "Good morning."

The sound of your name on his tongue felt foreign. Like a hometown meal he hadn't had in ages, or learning a melody from his long-gone childhood. He saw your eyes widen as you struggled to instantly give a response. "G-Good morning, Thorfinn..."

His back was straighter, you weren't sure if he even noticed that himself, and his steps were heavy. The deep rise and fall of his chest was...relieving in a way, but before you could glance at him again, Einar sucked in a baited breath and stepped forward. "Well, we'd best get going, haha!" His laughter was too forced and so was his goofy grin, "Trees don't chop themselves! Uh, have a good, productive day, you two! See you later!" He marched away with a comedic wave towards Arnheid, and with Thorfinn in tow.

The woman chuckled before looking at you. "We're lucky to have such sweet and funny guys as our neighbors, don't we?"

The sun slowly went her way down across the sky but Thorfinn was more eager than ever to drop his axe, rope and knife to walk towards the edge of the decreasing forest. Einar rose a brow but brushed his confusion off, believing the blonde wanted to greet the master. "You're up and about, you lads, aren't you? Very good work ethics, I must say."

"Thank you, Master Ketil." Einar noted Thorfinn's quick and serious reply but kept his mouth shut. As fair as Ketil was, here on his high horse, it wasn't like Thorfinn to be so eager for conversations with him. "I do plan to turn this place into a field in about three years," Thorfinn added with an determined tone, his words cut and clear. Ketil, too, rose a brow. "Oh? Have you planned for that exact time?" The shorter man shook his head. "No. But I will get it done by then."

Look at that guy. Talking all high and mighty, confident like a carpenter as if Einar isn't doing half the work, too!

"And when it is done, Master...I'd like to ask you for a favor." The elder straightened his back and took a sharp inhale. Thorfinn making any suggestions piqued his interest - yet rather in puzzlement. "What did you have in mind, boy?"

Now, he, too, straightened his back, widened his eyes as if trying to pierce through Ketil's soul, wanting dearly for him to understand the utter necessity that bore in his words, that tore apart his heart. He had to say it and the man had to understand. Please.

"If you would so kindly allow, I'd like to work as much as I need to till this soil and grow its crops here. But instead of buying myself, I'd like to sell you the produce in order to buy their freedom back."

"What?!"

Both Einar and Ketil jumped at the boldness of his words. Thorfinn didn't blink an eye as he kept his expectant stare on the master. "Thorfinn...do you know what you're saying? Three years, at the least, all for this...one, one person? You don't mean the shy, new one?"

"I do." Thorfinn did not falter, "I want to work to buy their freedom back. To get somewhere else, far away from here. I want them to be free."

I Can't Stay Here Forever In This Hollow...

----

okay, so, this took too long-

ngl, I didn't get his speech at first - but pondering it about it more, Einar had already gone through a tragedy as a child with his father fighting off warriors/vikings to defend their village and not being sold off as slaves. After the huge amount of damage vikings have done (I imagine), there was prbly a lot of things to recover and rebuild again where all he, as a child, could do was work to rebuild, eat what they had, sleep as much as he could, and shit all day until their village recovered and they could enjoy their peace again - aka Einar being rather hopeful and ready to do that all over again as a slave and buy his freedom back.

first of all, I noticed way too late that Einar is, in fact, not a brunette;;;;his hair is rather dark reddish...oops. i'll pay more attention to that in the next

also, i read a few posts of manga-onlys/those who read the manga first that they didn't like Einar's confrontation with Thorfinn in the barn after their drama with Snake. That he's too violent, put in a bad light and I do get that - considering how incredibly kind and open-minded the guy actually is and even called Thorfinn his friend in that very chapter (in the anime it happened way later).

this is...complete bias on my part but I don't mind the scene in the anime. its scary, almost unnecessarily so in some regards considering how long the strangle goes on, like wtf - but I do like that it allowed Einar to be angry and grief in a rather negative way and realise in the midst of the action that what he is doing is wrong and that he physically does not have the guts nor want to kill someone. Imo not even giving into the thought of hurting Finny (like in the manga) shows more maturity but I don't mind both scenes. Plus, I like his speech of finding even the smallest things worthwhile and letting go of his anger in the moment to wake up Finn, cause he knows its wrong - that he isnt doing anything helpful or good, despite not liking Finn during that time at all.

[drakaripykiros130ac]

“The Greens are political masterminds compared to the Blacks.”

How many times have you heard this bullshit?

Their political incompetence is exactly what cost the Greens their victory in this war, and what gained Otto Hightower the gold medal in the “worst Hand in the history of Westeros” Olympics. And if you ask me, Criston Cole should have the silver for that one.

So, we’re talking about a faction who has been plotting to usurp the rightful heir, Rhaenyra Targaryen, for many, many years. They had so much time to prepare, and so many advantages: Alicent being queen and Otto being Hand, not to mention Rhaenyra and Daemon were away on Dragonstone for many years.

The Hightowers could have swayed things in their favor before Viserys’ death, and failed. They had to shuffle about, beg the Tyrells, send Aemond to Storm’s End with marriage promises etc. all after Viserys died. Lol. What have they done during those 10 years Rhaenyra was away on Dragonstone? They sat on their asses and did nothing. Not even prepare their puppet, Aegon Hightower.

Now, let’s list the Greens’ many, many mistakes:

1. Usurping the throne, instead of minding their own business and returning to Oldtown. Alicent doomed her entire line (children and grandchildren) with her schemes and thirst for power.

2. Not having Aemond and Daeron married by the time of the Dance. Boy, they really blew it with this one. Aemond was 20 when the Dance started and Daeron was 16. They could have been well married by the time Viserys died, and the Hightowers could have secured great alliances in time.

Rhaenyra’s sons were much younger than Alicent’s, and yet years before the Dance, she had Jacaerys and Lucerys betrothed to Baela and Rhaena, securing the Velaryons (a great power House) on her side for good. And certain people still have the nerve to say she did nothing.

Not having Aemond and Daeron married by the time of Viserys’ death, was a missed opportunity, which proves Otto and Alicent’s stupidity. They had the power, and Viserys was easily swayed, and they still screwed up big time.

3. Failing to get the support of their own liege lords, the Tyrells.

4. Failing to get the support of the Red Kraken and by extension, the Iron Islands. I mean, so few people realize that Daemon was the politically savvy one, knowing how to turn the Red Kraken against the Greens by appealing to his thirst for bloodshed. The Greens offered him the position of Master of Ships and he refused them, in exchange for a chance to stick it to the Lannisters. So basically, Daemon offered the Red Kraken nothing, compared to the Greens, and still managed to sway him to his side. That must have been so embarrassing for the Greens 😂.

5. Killing Lucerys. *claps* Well, done, Aemond One-Eye idiot. Before this, Rhaenyra was still determined to make peace with her half-brothers and half-sister, despite the usurpation, but not after they shed first blood and murdered her son. Hell no. Even Alicent and Otto were angry with Aemond for this one, because they knew how badly they screwed up.

The problem is that both Otto and Alicent lacked the intelligence to keep a bloodthirsty, idiotic maniac like Aemond in line. Not to mention that the one on their team holding their only ace-card, Vhagar, was this bloodthirsty, idiotic maniac.

6. Aegon Hightower choosing Criston Cole as his Hand. 😶 When I first read this part in the book, I was shocked. Definitely did not see that coming. Dismissing Otto as Hand (for the second time), I understand, considering that he really exudes incompetence. But what exactly went through the usurper’s puny brain when naming Cole as his Hand is beyond me. He is a military man. He is no political mastermind. Far from it. He is dumb as wood. He spent his entire career life kissing Alicent’s behind and only rising in ranking because of his hatred for Rhaenyra (because a young girl of 14 refused his advances).

There is a reason why Rhaenyra chose Corlys as her Hand, and not Daemon (like everyone expected her to).

Criston Cole led his forces in the Riverlands and got himself killed when facing the Winter Wolves. He didn’t even use his position as Hand. He just wore the pin.

Seriously, this has to be one of their dumbest moves. If I were in this usurper’s position, I would have chosen Tyland Lannister as my Hand, certainly not the overly subjective and creepy Incel who kisses my mother’s behind for a job.

7. Burning the Riverlands…for no good reason. *claps* Once again, let’s applaud Aemond’s idiocy. Basically, he decided to burn the Riverlands because their lords sided with Rhaenyra. That’s it.

Because of his stupidity, he basically secured the entire Riverlands on the side of the Blacks even after Rhaenyra’s death. The Riverlords fought for Rhaenyra’s son instead of agreeing to make peace with the Greens.

8. Choosing the Triarchy as an ally. What exactly made them think that they would gain any points by allying themselves with a great enemy of the people of Westeros? These are foreign savages that Daemon and Corlys have been fighting for years, and the Greens got in bed with them. Bringing an army of dangerous foreigners in a civil war is high treason against the Realm.

9. Burning Bitterbridge. The Reach was the Hightowers’ home, and not only did they fail to gain the support of the Paramount House there, but they also turned many of their bannermen against them. Well done. *sarcasm*

10. This one is one of my favorites: trusting the Goldcloaks. Otto Hightower knew perfectly well that the Goldcloaks were Daemon’s men, and despite making some changes and putting his son, Gwayne, as second in command, Otto still managed to get played and the Goldcloaks turned on the Greens when Daemon arrived in the capital.

The smart thing to do would have been to disband the Goldcloaks when the usurpation happened. The decision to keep them lost the Greens the capital.

11. Proposing to call a Great Council only when realizing that they were losing. So, once Rhaenyra took the capital, only then, did Alicent propose to call a Great Council. Why couldn’t she suggest that before usurping the throne? Alicent’s stupidity got her the nickname “Queen of Chains”.

12. Trusting the Dragonseeds who betrayed Rhaenyra. Seriously…how stupid could they be? Don’t they know that people who betray once have a tendency to do it again??? The Two Betrayers wasted no time and turned on the Greens soon after because they wanted the throne for themselves.

13. Trusting Larys Strong. This creep got his own family killed for the sake of power. He has no morals and is just like Littlefinger. Once he realized that the Greens were losing, Larys turned on them and most likely participated in poisoning Aegon the Usurper.

14. Refusing to name Aegon the Younger heir and sue for peace with the Black armies after Rhaenyra’s death. This basically guaranteed the Greens’ permanent defeat.

15. Trying to convince her eight year old granddaughter to kill her husband lost Alicent any freedom rights after she lost the war, and she spent the rest of her life in isolation and madness.

So, seriously, people who say that Otto and Alicent are politically intelligent need to get a clue and read the book.

[helluvagyal]

Synopsis: just some general headcanons about my favorite demon. Part 1/3, relationship headcanons coming next.

Content: general headcanons, mentions of cannibalism.

A/N: My first piece of writing for the fandom and I had to start with my murder baby. Enjoy, let me know what you think please. Don't forget to reblog! Banner and dividers by me.

— shoutout to @hellvcifer for getting me into it. Please read and reblog their work it's amazing!

Alastor is like that weird elusive sinner that you rarely see and when he does show up, it’s during drama or when he needs something.

Count on him to show out and throw hands (hooves?) for his people though.

Alastor always has a story to tell and the hotel residents’ favorites are definitely about his life before he ended up in hell.

He’s usually very tight lipped about those but if you catch him while he's making dinner, he'll turn into a chatterbox—especially if he's already got sherry or rye in him.

When he's cooking alone, that's his favorite time for contemplation and/or Hell domination.

His ever present smile has gone soft at the corners, his voice has lost its warped and static edge as he hums along to his radio, moving around the kitchen as if floating.

On the nights when it's his turn to cook, he definitely helps Niffty with the clean up after.

He doesn't have much of a sweet tooth but when those cravings kick in, it's with a vengeance.

Gingerbread cookies are his go to snack to pair with blood infused lemon tea as well as blood orange tea.

Demon ladyfingers sprinkled with powdered sugar and paired with blood infused black tea is an afternoon time favorite.

There was one week where he ate nothing but beignets, bananas foster and sweet potato pie for breakfast.

Alastor has a thirst for knowledge, prides himself on finding out everything he can, even if it's only to satisfy a mere curiosity.

He's a fashion snob. He never did care much for it when he was topside, only making sure he looked his best.

But since being in Hell, he's found himself with quite the eye and knack for Hellish threads. I mean, come on. I know ya'll saw his red bottoms!

He goes shopping with Angel occasionally, resolutely ignoring (or snickering at) how the shopkeeper cowers in fear when he asks if a powder blue fleece scarf he saw came in blood red.

With being a fashion snob, it paved the way for his stitcher's thumb.

Now, he's no expert like Rosie but she taught him a thing or two when he'd have the patience for it.

He's patched up knife holes in Niffty's dresses, sewn up tears in Angel’s sweaters and even hemmed one of Vaggie's skirts.

He'll dedicate two nights a week–if he's not busy with hotel duties–to sitting in front of his bayou and stitching or sewing.

He can play instruments; learned the sax and trumpet topside and mastered the piano down below.

Alastor actually likes the peace that comes with doing menial tasks. Instead of snapping his fingers to have the dishes washed and put away or to have his books dusted, he will do it if he has the extra time.

Getting dressed for the day is something he always does on his own, from ironing his pristine suits to shining his dress shoes.

Alastor does in fact sleep, however, he's trained himself to go long periods without needing to. He sleeps best after a feeding.

When using his abilities on particular prey, it acts as a health bar of sorts. So the stronger the prey, along with the extent of damage, determines his healing time and energy output.

Alastor is one of the many sinners who have had issues in the past coming to terms with their newly acquired anatomy.

The antlers have grown on him and so have the ears as it helps when he's flicking through frequencies.

Alastor absolutely abhors his tail, tried cutting it off but it just grew right back, bushier too.

He could never control the wretched thing, hates that it would give away his moods with a twitch or a tuck.

When he first discovered that it rapidly swishes from side to side when he's upset, he immediately went out to hunt, feeling like he had to go out and prove something.

He's started going to bed last, or at least retiring to his room when all the residents are asleep. Secretly likes to ensure the others are safe and sound.

Alastor is a huge fan of games, board, tile and card games to be specific. Yes, he's competitive but he enjoys the relaxing and occasionally heated atmosphere it provides.

For board games, he loves Scrabble (topside), Game of the World (topside), Clue (down below), and Pictionary (down below). If you value your life, please do not poke fun at his drawings in Pictionary, he gets testy.

For tile games, he loves Dominoes. His mother was the one who taught him how to play–as with most of the other games–one night when the power was out and he couldn’t listen to his radio programs or get some work done.

For card games, he likes Oh Hell, The Donkey card game and Make-A-Million.

If you couldn't tell, he prefers games where he can show off his smarts and be stimulated.

He despises Chess, Beggar-my-neighbor and Bingo.

Bonding/group sessions have grown on him, he won't admit it though. He's come to look forward to them, especially the night-time rituals, but please do not ask him to join movie night, he already put up with camping in the garden.

He's stellar at giving advice but is absolute shit at taking them sometimes, especially if he doesn't agree with it but knows it's rational

He will never tell you what you want to hear unless it's beneficial to him. Count on him to tell you what you need to hear, especially if you personally sought him out to get something off your mind.

If you aren't Rosie (and occasionally the residents), he would prefer not to prolong conversations unless he knows he's going to gain valuable information, be entertained or stimulated.

It's no secret that he has a soft spot for Niffty, his shadow does too; you can find them playing together sometimes with Alastor occasionally keeping a watchful eye.

He takes his title of 'King Roach' very seriously.

If you want some quiet time in the hotel, just seek out Alastor. If your social battery is running low but you don't necessarily want to be alone, either him or Husk would be your best bet.

If you've been invited to his room or his study to have a nightcap and a gab session, you're one of his most tolerable companions.

For the love of all that is bad and sinful, PLEASE do not ask about going up to his radio tower, especially during a broadcast; it's best if you just let him invite you.

However, he does allow Niffty up there to assist his shadow with cleaning the space.

If Alastor had a middle name, it would be Petty. It's also no secret that he's into mischief making. He and Angel got a kick out of the Prank Wars as a bonding exercise. They make a scary good team

He can dish out but he cannot take it. Don't even bother trying to get even with him because then everyone will have to hear about “the terrible slight on my honor”.

He's very chivalrous, even if his ways of showing it can be a bit twisted.

© helluvagyal ‧ all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, translate, share, or copy my work.

[santacoppelia]

Of fandom, age, and David Tennant being our own personal Time Lord

I read the fantastic post that @davidtennantgenderenvy wrote about David Tennant and aging (if you haven’t yet read it, go for it!) and, as a fan who is closer to DT's age range than to what seems to be the rest of the fan base's age (yeah, being well over 40 is A THING), I had an interesting mix of ideas and emotions. I was going to just reblog her post with some of these musings, but when this started getting longer (and I started searching for bibliography, ha), I decided that I was not going to hijack her post, but rather cite it (and reblog it on its own right, really, read it). I should say that this is a long essay, and it comes peppered with references to one of my preferred fields of study (but I make it light and fun, promise).

Becoming an “old geek”

The first time I came into the idea was when I found a thirst TikTok with that very nice audio that goes “I think I need someone older…” and clearly, the thirst was there, but also… David is 8 years older than me, and when you are 45, thirsting over someone who is 53 doesn’t feel as “edgy” (and thinking about “needing someone older” starts verging on thirsting over people well over 65, which is absolutely fine, but a very different category over all for the rest of TikTok). So yeah, it was weird. You see someone who you feel is "in your range" and everyone is calling them "old"… And you start thinking about aging, inevitably.

Of course, I "don't feel old", but most of my friends are younger than me, and I'm the oldest person in many of my "fun activities". Take, for example, my lightsaber combat team, where every sponsorship is pitched to people under 30, and you should be training at least twice a week and following a strict diet to reach the expected “competitive or exhibition” level (enter the “old lady” who is taking this training just for fun, who needs to take care of her joints and who is not going to be invested in becoming Jedi Master General or anything of the sorts in the near future). Or we can talk about the expectation about fandom in general being a “teenage phase”, and thinking about everyone who still is into it actively after certain age as “immature” or “quirky” at best (hi, mom! Hi, work colleagues! Hi, students!).

Society, aging and social constructs

Of course, this has a lot to do with societal expectations. For almost 80 years, popular culture has been built around "youth" and "young people": before rock & roll, most things (music, clothes, movies, art in general) were targeted to “adults”, and you were expected to be “a functional adult” since a younger age. There was a seismic shift in the way popular culture was built when consumer culture decided to see and cater young people: trends became shorter, being “hip” was desirable, staying younger for a longer period was a nice aspiration (a good, light reading to get a deeper view around this is “Hit Makers” by Derek Thompson. It is written for marketers, but that makes it an easy historic overview and I like that). This has a lot to do with the change of our view about old people, too: while being old 100 years ago (yup, 1924 still fits the bill) made you “a respected elder” and you were expected to be wise, to know best, to be the voice of reason and an expert, nowadays not even us older people like being seen as “old” or “older”.

Frequently, culture becomes entrenched in binary oppositions. The binary opposition between “young” and “old” is… well, old! And while the opposition is sustained, the meanings around it change over time (that’s what the past paragraph was about, really). If in the 1940’s being old meant “mature, respectable, wise, responsible” and being young meant “inexperienced, immature, foolish”, after the 1950’s those meanings shifted a lot: being young became “fun, interesting, in the now and in the know, attractive”, while being old was about being “boring, dusty, passé, uninteresting, dull”.

In reality, being young can be a mix of all of these things (inexperienced and fun and foolish and attractive), and being old can be, at the same time, being responsible and wise and a little dusty and dull, because that’s life *shrugs*, and the wonder of lived experience is that, even if we simplify it, it is complex and rich and sometimes contradictory in itself: we can be old and foolish and interesting and boring, or young and dull and inexperienced and attractive. But, as we need to make “social sense” of things, simplifying them is… easier. That’s why we build stereotypes, and why we use them! We need to have a “base” of signifiers to build upon, so we usually take what we have on our environment and run with it. If you find this idea interesting, welcome to the world of cultural semiotics! *takes her Iuri Lotman picture out of her pocket and puts it on the desk*

(Iuri Lotman, people. He is my "patron saint").

Pop culture versus “real culture”

Another cultural opposition that piques my interest in this area is the notion of “pop culture”, of course. It is opposed to “real, serious culture”, the sort of thing that everyone expects "older, mature people" to enjoy. In the sixties and seventies, there were a lot of studies and writing about "high brow" and "low brow" culture, trying to keep this distinction between "things that make you familiar with the now, but have no intrinsic value" and "eternal things that cultivate your mind, soul and spirit".

Evidently, if you ask me, this is a whole load of horse manure: probably useful to fertilize other things, but with little intrinsic value on its own. My main point is not dolphins, but the idea of culture: historically, it has used to mean a lot of things; from the notion of (exactly) fertilizing something and making it grow to make it come to fruition, to the hodgepodge of practices that a social group creates when they are together and are trying to make common sense of things.

I like the latter better (that is the one I’d ascribe to if this was The Academia TM, but this is tumblr!), but another popular definition, which comes from the Illustration and has been quite prevalent, is the notion of culture as the set of cultural practices that make you a better, more intelligent, far more educated person. For example: if you want to have real culture, you have to read Shakespeare and know what a iambic pentameter is, rather than watching “10 Things I Hate About You”. You must read real books, not listen to audiobooks, and “real books” should be written by “serious authors” like (insert old white Western European or American cis men, preferably born before 1960).

Here comes the notion of “cultural canon”, grinning widely. Yup, that set of practices becomes an expectation of what and how you should experience any area of the human experience, and they become a sort of “nucleus” of the whole experience, with people playing “defense” around them and culture shifting all around and sometimes across them. This is not exclusive to “high culture”: Have you ever heard about “gatekeeping”? Yeah, same fenomenomenon (Shadwell, of course). Whenever something gets this “shape”, it becomes a “norm”, the “common” thing, the “rule” if you participate in that set of cultural practices.

As every cultural set of practices tends to generate its own “canon”, they also have a lot of practices surrounding it, which are ever changing, shifting, learning from new and old practices, and redefining what everything means in their common/shared space. For example: Neil Gaiman, my beloved, was part of the “comics” frontier when Sandman first appeared, but as he and Alan Moore (yeah, I know he did it first, but Gaiman is my study focus right now, so let me be) and other very talented and interesting people started creating fascinating stuff that hadn’t been done, and they found people who loved it, they not only redefined the world of comics, but became part of the new canon themselves. And then, Neil’s presence in the world of literature and fantasy became widespread and recognized and then revered… And then he is doing it again by adapting his own work to a streaming platform in a serialized way… I hope this explains why I’m growing an obsession with studying Neil Gaiman as an author who crosses through different media: a transmedial auteur, an anomaly in his own right. But that is not an essay for tumblr, but a thesis, one that I don’t know if I’d ever have the time or mental resources to write (being a runaway ex academic with ADHD who works on their own is hard, people). Besides, this was about aging and David Tennant, so let’s cut this tangent short and start talking about our Time Lord and Savior: David Tennant, the king of frontiers.

David Tennant as a Frontier Lord

David Tennant is another fascinating case in this sense, mostly because he is an actor who has been able to build a whole very impressive career through crossing symbolic frontiers. Through his massive filmography (161 roles just for screens, as registered in IMDb) and his stage career (I love this gifset for this exact reason), he has acted his way through almost everything, from classical Shakespeare to improvisational comedy, from procedural police drama to wacky fantasy sci-fi. This has a lot to do with his personality (he loves acting, he decided to pursue acting as a career thanks to his love for Doctor Who, but he is also smart and inquisitive) but, as it happens with a lot of “frontier figures”, it also has a lot to do with “unpredictable” circumstances: less of a strategy, more of an instinct.

David has talked many times about how his impostor syndrome made him feel, for the longest time, that he had to keep accepting roles, because you never know if there is going to be another one after. He is talented and open and curious (this is quite a good interview about his perspective), but this… anxiety? meant that he had also lower quandaries about saying “yes” to roles and projects that were “less consistent” with a typecast (which has been, for the longest time, one of the main strategies to build an acting career). Yeah, he has some defining characteristics that make a role “tennantish” (I’m not starting that tirade here, but yeah, you know that almost fixed set of quirks and bits), but he has also worked his way through many different genres, budgets, styles and complexities. And he has usually been as committed and as professional in a big budget-high stakes-great script sort of situation, as he has been in a highly chaotic-let’s see what sticks-small scale project.

That can be correlated by the way he talks about “acting advice”. “Be on time, learn your lines, treat everyone the same, never skip the lunch queue”… Acting is a job, and he treats it as such. Yeah, he looks for interesting projects anytime he can, but the “down to earth” attitude about it is, once again, not-usual, not-common: pure frontier. Then, when David talks about his own self (specially at a young age), he is pretty clear about his “outsider” or “uncool” status (this interview is fantastic), and how strangely disruptive it was to become not only recognizable, but cool and sexy and… everything else, thanks to Doctor Who. He went from living in the frontier to being put in the canon, but he is still, at heart, a person who is more comfortable not defining himself by that “expected” set of rules.

Him being a very private person, who insists on having a family life that seems, form this distance, stable, loving and absolutely un-showbiz just makes the deal (and the parasocial love and respect) easier to sustain; as does his openness to talk about social and political issues that interest him (passionately, again; against the norm for “well liked celebrity”, again). His colleagues also talk wonders about him, mostly because he is this sort of down-to-earth but also passionate about his craft and easy to work with. Again: not the “norm”, not the “rule” of being such a celebrity.

Many of his fans (should I say that I’m one? Or is it obvious at this point?) find this not only endearing, but comforting: he is a massive star, who has acted in a lot of terrific roles in huge productions… But he feels, at heart, as “one of us”. But he is, also, a well-respected thespian, a Shakespearian powerhouse, an international talent. He lives in a very authentic, but very unstereotipical frontier. And he seems happy about that and has made a career from it. Extensive kudos and all the parasocial love and the amateur-actress mad respect for that.

I should mention, just in passing, that a “natural” archetype for this characters that traverse frontiers… are tricksters. Think again about the “tennantish” characteristics. Here goes another essay I’m not writing right now.

Aging: The Next Frontier

This takes me to the original post that inspired the essay: living in a culture where the “norm” is “being young and famous is a desirable aspiration”, we have a fantastic actor, at peak of his craft, who is in the heart of middle age (past 50, nearing 55). Not only that, but he is an actor with whom at least a couple of generations have grown older: from the ones who feel him as “our contemporary” to the ones who grew up looking at him (like Ncuti Gatwa!).

David, being the frontier person he is, has been navigating this transition in a very “unconventional” way: he came back to the role that made him iconic (The Doctor, now with more trauma!), is starring in another fantasy series about middle-aged looking ethereal beings that at times is an adventure thriller, at times is a comedy of errors and at times is a romcom (having another beautiful trickster of a man as his co-star… There goes another tangent that is an essay); he is playing one of the quintessential Shakespeare roles for middle-aged men (Macbeth), and is, seemingly, having a lot of fun doing a lot of voice acting for animation roles (if you haven’t watched Duck Tales, you’re missing a whole lot of fun, really).

Traditionally, middle aged actors navigate that period of their career trying to reinforce their “still young, thus a celebrity” status (for example, doing a lot of action-packed movies and keep doing their own stunts while seducing women 20-30 years younger than them), or strengthening their “prestige thespian, so now a real culture person” position (fighting for more serious roles, going from comedy to drama, or working their way into The Classics©). Sometimes, they face the internalized societal expectation by also becoming a shipwreck in their personal life (yeah… the stereotype of “getting divorced, having an affair with someone half their age, getting another red convertible, getting in trouble…”) because we don’t have a good “map for aging responsibly” yet as a society. We have been so focused on youth, that we have forgotten how to age.

Again, switching to the personal experience. I was raised as a female-shaped person (yeah, being queer is fun), so part of the experience of growing (and then growing old) has been closely related with that concept from the female point of view. I decided, pretty early on (but not so much, probably 25 years ago), that I wasn’t going to conform to the norm… And that included aging naturally. When I found my first white hair, it was a shock (I was 21 or 22), but I had already seen my father fighting his own hair being white since forever. I decided it was a loss of time, money and effort… And the judgement from people in my generation and in the one that preceded me (my mother, my aunts) was stern and strict: “it will age you, and it will date us. You shouldn’t do that”. Men could do it, given the right age (being over 50) but women must not. Same with wrinkles and sagging and gaining weight and getting “pudgy”. But when men grew older, they needed to make a “show off” of their ability to seduce, to “still be a man”. Aging, then, was undesirable by any standard.

As me and my peers have grown older, and my hair has gotten increasingly silver, there have been women that come to me saying that “I look great” and “they wish they were as brave as me”. I would like to state in front of this jury of my peers (hi, tumblr!) that the only bravery it took was deciding, somewhere between my twenties and my thirties, that I wanted to be as myself as I possibly could, so no bravery at all, just the same lack of understanding of social rules that took me to become interested in… you guessed it, cultural semiotics. We’ve come full circle with this. Now, let’s finish talking about what it means for an aging fan to have an aging star to look up to, shall we?

David Tennant as a cultural Time Lord

I am pretty sure that he wouldn’t have chosen this role for himself (as he wouldn’t have chosen being a massive star just by playing his favorite character and being so talented and charming), but he is, as Loki would say, burdened by glorious purpose. Being “the actor of his generation”, and him crossing so many frontiers with such ease and grace, without even thinking about it too hard, just because he is a hard worker and likes to try new things and is just so good at what he does put him in the exact cultural crossroad for it.

He is not in a sudden need to “resignify himself” as anything: he has already shown his very flexible acting muscles through his very long career. He is not bounded to “keep his public image relevant”: he likes to have his personal life clearly separated from the spotlight, and being married to the brilliant and funny Georgia, who herself grew up with a famous father, so she is no stranger to staying sane and in control in the eye of media, and who manages their social media presence with a good mix of humor and well-set boundaries.

Therefore, he is in a moment where he can (and probably will) chose to do whatever he likes. And he has the public support to do so: he is prestigious and respected, but likes to make fun of himself and is not self-important; he has a lot of awards, but he is also a very likable person with whom most people in the industry enjoy working. And he is up to do a lot of things: heroes, villains, morally grey characters; romance, drama, thriller, fantasy, sci-fi, procedurals, historical fiction, classic plays, silly parts, voice acting… We are going to see him aging on screen and stage, with no playbook: the playbooks were written for people that certainly are not him. And I have some evidence to prove it.

He is starring in a groundbreaking series (yeah, Good Omens) where the protagonists are two middle-aged looking entities, full of queer relationships, written by another trickster. This series, in an on itself, is a showcase for characters that are rule breaking in many ways: in the narrative, by being hereditary enemies who are inevitably linked to one another by a loving bond that may or may not be romantic, but that has been in the making for 6,000 years; in representation, by having the protagonists being represented by a couple of middle aged actors who are “not serious” and “not action” coded, in a role where they are delivering romance, banter, intrigue, joy and a whole other range of emotions that are “not your stereotypical” middle-aged male-lead coded.

He also delivered the baton on a relay race with Doctor Who: he came back after almost 20 years, to bring back the generation who grew up watching him in the role, and deliver us into the arms of Ncuti Gatwa’s 15th Doctor, with the promise of taking a rest and working on getting better from all the trauma The Doctor has endured in 20 years Earth-time (which, as any Doctor Who fan knows, account for centuries of trauma in Doctor’s time). Not your usual Doctor Who Anniversary cameo, but one built to deliver some zeitgeisty emotional health promises that made the specials feel… healing. At least, for some of us.

Even when it wasn’t the hit series it deserved to be, his Phileas Fogg in “Around the World in 80 Days” is also a great delivery of an unconventional middle-aged protagonist, who goes from meek and scared and too worried about societal norms, to a lovely, tender, slightly awkward and daring person, with friends half his age who look at him but are also his peers (another kind of relationship that is not very frequent in media).

And, with all fearlessness, he has played a lively old duck in Duck Tales! Scrooge McDuck has never been a middle-aged character: he is, quite openly, an old gentleman. An adventurer, quirky, with a lot of spunk… but also quite clearly an elder to Huey, Dewey and Louie, and obviously older than Donald Duck (who is also not a young adult himself!). When you watch that series, and if you have the opportunity to catch any glimpse of him behind the scenes while recording the part, you can feel the joy he got from playing the part (and he has said time and again that he IS Scrooge McDuck, so it will become his “recurring bit” for the future).

Hopefully, David (and some other actors and actresses, for sure) will dare to build that new “aging publicly without making an arse of myself” playbook, and I (and I can imagine, many other fans in our middle age, but also fans that are right now leaving behind the “young adult” stage and becoming “adults” fair and square, and others who will arrive to this place at a future time in their lives, so I hope) will be there to bear witness, support, cheer… and learn from the model. Because that’s what fandom is about, but also because that’s how culture itself gets shaped and changes, continuously. And that is exciting and a little scary, and that’s why it is better if we do this together.

And I'd love to imagine diverse (in the full sense of the word) role models for this process and this playbook, too!!!

If you read all the way through this, I'm very grateful, take a cookie, have a gold star and suggest names for our aging interestingly role models on the "non-white-male" side of things!

Class dismissed!!

[blade-liger-4ever]

The Problem with Mara Jade, and Why She Doesn't Work

A Mara Jade dissection? From me?

More likely than you think!

Now make no mistake, I know exactly what kind of fanatic waters I'm treading. After all, it's no secret that the Star Wars fandom simply adores anything that Mara does, and people have been clamoring for her "long awaited" return to the Star Wars Canon since she was cast off along with the rest of the crew when the Mouse took over Lucasfilm. However, I have had many thoughts in direct opposition to Mara's worshiping fans, and now that I've finally had enough of both Mara's escape from her actions and attitude, as well as having snapped after suffering the ignorance of those who praise her to the heavens, I'm at long last going to tear down this character and explain in detail not only why she makes no sense in universe, but why she should have never been introduced the way Zahn introduced her in his trilogy featuring Thrawn.

Buckle up, 'cause I am not holding back on the fandom's darling girl.

Problem One: She never suffers in her upbringing

It's explained by everyone in Legends and the fandom that Mara Jade was taken in from a young age to be the infamous "Emperor's Hand" and raised to kill his enemies without remorse and blindly follow his orders. They all say the training is rigorous, and that she was spared no shortage of training in combat, espionage, and whatnot, and I will admit, her skills prove it. But you know what the flaw with this logic is?

Mara is not once shown to have any trauma, pain, or even physical scars from the training.

Don't believe me? Just look at her trading cards which, for added benefit, had a professional "head-turning beauty" model pose for her. She's a shiny, pristine woman in those pictures with no sign of the abuse she logically would have suffered during her training.

"Blade, why are you harping on logic? This is Star Wars, where there are space wizards and jetpacks and intergalatic travel. Logic doesn't have a place here."

I keep "harping" on logic because for the suspension of disbelief to properly work, there needs to be logic for things to work in a story. Take Galen Marek, a fellow Legends character, for example. He was raised by Darth Vader to be a relentless, unstoppable assassin - and his body is covered with scars, and most importantly, it takes Galen two thirds of the game to break free of his loyalty to Vader and see that he's been nothing but a means to an end to his master. By contrast, Mara doesn't suffer nearly as much, nor does she even, truly, break out of Palpatine's hold, even in the globally praised Thrawn Trilogy.

Which brings me to Mara's next problem.

Problem two: She never truly rejects the Dark Side, or her role as the Emperor's Hand

Now before you jump on me, let me say this: I recall her killing Luke's clone and "freeing" herself of the final command Palpatine lodged into her brain. However, if given the option, I still believe Mara would have killed Luke simply because she had no real reason to not kill him.

Oh yes, she kept finding "convenient excuses" to keep him alive, but those are points of plot armor. Anyone else in her place - like fellow Emperor's Hand Shira Brie - wouldn't have hesitated to shoot Luke's head off, or stabbed him through the heart with a lightsaber. The only reasons she didn't were because Zahn wanted Luke to have an enemies-to-lovers dynamic, and the writing world has never recovered since he glamorized that trope. Furthermore, despite the fact that Mara has a conniption over being lied to and manipulated into thinking she was the only Emperor's Hand by Palpatine, she does not do so with a realization that she was doing the wrong things for the Emperor. No, she only sees that she was used as a means to an end, and her fury is not all that different from Maul's rage when we see the former Sith Apprentice again in The Clone Wars - which, logically, points to the fact that Mara had a thirst for power, something that Legends actually confirms.

Don't believe me? Pull up her Wookieepedia file. It explicitly states in her bio that in her early career, she pratically dreamed of killing Vader and taking his place as Palpatine's apprentice. It's even said she revels in the Dark Side and her mission as Palpatine's Hand. Furthermore, she does not even express remorse for her actions, or even attempts to make amends by sharing her knowledge of Imperial Intelligence with Republic Intelligence. Compare her to Black Widow: when Natasha Romanov switched her allegiances, not only did she reject her past and even her nationality, she joined SHIELD to atone for her actions.

What does Mara do? Get Anakin's lightsaber handed to her by his own son after she tried to kill him repeatedly, and simply departs to "find her own path."

No honey, you don't get a consolation prize for choosing practicality in that moment with Luke's clone, and you certainly don't get to traipse around the galaxy free of consequences of your actions without at least giving vital information to the Republic.

"Oh, but she'll suffer from the memory of what she's done, Blade!"

Really? There is no reason for that woman to have a conscience, and the fact that everyone tries to hammer that into me points me to the next issue.

Problem three: Mara Jade is given a conscience with no substantial basis for it

Allow me to bring to light the history of a former assassin I love dearly for what she suffered to explain Mara's struggle here: X23/Laura Kinney of Marvel fame.

Literally born into a branch of the Weapon X project, Laura's life revolved around nothing but training, emotional distance, cold-blooded torture, and killing on orders from the highest bidder - and she made her first targeted kill at age nine. Because of that, she emotionally shut herself down.

Why do I have no issue with Laura's response to her first kill? Because she had two people who went against the Facility's status quo and fed her scraps of kindness, warmth, and love.

And for that, Laura was mind-controlled into killing them both as "poetic justice".

The first one she had killed via a "trigger scent" that was engineered to send her into a blind rage was used on her teacher, Tanaka. When she awoke from it, she was horrified to find her "sensei" lying dead in a pool of blood, her own claws coated in his blood. After this, she was given Kimura as a trainer/handler, and the woman took every opportunity to abuse and torture her - all in the name of "making her strong". This, coupled with her mother having to back off on showing her love, made Laura suppress her emotions, and deal with them by cutting herself with her own claws. Her mother, Sarah Kinney, didn't realize until later that the scars (I cannot recall if they healed or not) were Laura's own doing and not Kimura's.

Laura was used by many to kill hundreds, and Sarah eventually gave up hope that there was a little girl left in the assassin.

That changed, however, when Laura found a young boy listed as a target on her assignment. She knew that if she left him alive, she'd be faced with more punishments, torture, and abuse. She knew that, and she must have been terrified for her life.

But Laura, having been shown compassion and love at different points, was able to see a bit of that same fear in the boy.

And despite knowing full well what was in store for her, Laura let. Him. Live.

Sarah orchestrated her and Laura's escape after this, and had Laura undertake one last mission to kill the personnel at the Facility and the new clones of Laura that were being grown. However, Laura's main abuser had a last laugh by getting some of the trigger scent on Sarah, and even though they were both free, Sarah paid with her life at Laura's hands.

To this day in the comics, Laura waking to see her dying mother and her claws sticky with her blood, is one of her most traumatic and devastating memories.

I bring this up, patient readers, to point out the severe flaw in Mara's creation. She was taken in at three years old to be raised in the heart of evil, and yet she's somehow the only Emperor's Hand to have a conscience. Three years old is not the proper age to have a total recall of what morality is, especially when you're being trained to kill with abandon and to not care about taking a life. More to the point, Laura had two people who gave her morals and humanity. Mara, by contrast, had no one: no nanny or diaper-changing droid was mentioned in order to credit where she got her moral compass from, which flies directly against Galen's turn from the Dark Side. Because even Galen had PROXY to thank for being remotely approachable at the beginning of The Force Unleashed. If you don't believe me, check out his Wookieepedia file; the droid is expressly stated to be the reason he has any compassion at all.

Mara has no reason for having a moral compass, and anyone who tells me otherwise should go dunk their head in a frigid cold lake.

Problem four: Mara has too much autonomy for a born and bred assassin

Remember what I was going on about with Laura? Beyond the surface of what I scratched, she never got a break or any rewards for a job well done. That is because no one viewed her as anything more than a tool to get things done. Among the underworld, she was a favorite weapon, but because of that favoritism, Laura was worked to the bone by people around her. When you're a tool, favorite or otherwise, you don't get breaks.

But according to the almighty Timothy Zahn and countless others in Star Wars, Mara got to take vacations because the Emperor favored her so much. And furthermore, she had such an advanced favoritism with him, and was such a spectacularly good agent, she could choose who to kill and who to hide from the Emperor without him being the wiser. Mara even had the nerve to think of and enjoy herself as a "law unto herself" while still being under Palpatine's thumb.

Bullcrap.

Fellow assassin Galen never had breaks, child assassin Laura Kinney never had breaks, international spy Natasha Romanov never had breaks. They never had breaks because they were TOOLS. Tools, in the eyes of their masters, are nothing but instruments to be used or thrown away as seen fit, regardless if said "tool" is a handheld object or an entire company of soldiers. Assassins have this even worse because they are people exclusively used for your personal gain. Giving Mara Jade breaks from her work is inane and breaks the logic of having an assassin turn over a new leaf. And the reason for that is because all the other examples I named worked their fannies off in order to make amends and actively choose to become better. Even though we got little with Galen atoning for his actions, he still tried his best.

Mara doesn't do anything to atone, apologize, or even make up for the things she did. She lived and died in Legends continuity as a selfish brat who got away with literal murder and never had anyone question why they had her there on their side when there was never a guarantee beyond Luke's out-of-character defense of her by saying she "no longer serves the Dark Side/the Emperor".

Luke, my guy, my childhood hero second only to Optimus Prime. You know better than this. Yes, you see the good in everyone, but there was never anything she did right for purely right reasons to have garnered that level of loyalty and devotion from you. She tried to kill you, wanted to take your father's place in Palpatine's grand scheme, and was frightfully close to killing you in the third movie of the Original Trilogy while laughing as you fell into the sarlacc pit. The fact that this all goes on, and no one in or out of universe makes her pay for her actions tells me she was just everyone's darling OC insert girlfriend for Luke, who they could do anything with, and people would and did accept it because they wanted Luke to have a "hot bad girl wife".

Luke is the pinnacle of goodness in Star Wars. A pinnacle of goodness deserves someone who is just as good for almost the exact same reasons as the pinnacle, but able to back him up in his saving endeavors while being a shoulder for him when there was one lost soul he couldn't save.

Mara Jade has none of that, and she never showed anyone that level of care and attention. And if she did, it did not make sense with all the crap she got away with.

Conclusion

Well, there's not much I suppose to conclude this. I expressed why Mara doesn't work in excruciating detail, and why she didn't work in the end. I will go out on a limb and say that my distaste for her is clear, as well as my opinion that she should not have won Luke's hand when he had many other love interests (look it up. Trust me, he had many girls eyeing him, and had many dates in Legends.)

I will, however, say this much: In my Star Wars Canon, Luke marries Alex Winger, the only girl in Star Wars who I feel matches his personality and needs well. Ben Skywalker will not exist in it, unless I make him the oldest or youngest of Luke and Alex's kids, which is entirely possible now that I consider that option. And it may surprise you, but I do intend to bring Mara into my stories - as a true villain, though she may get a redemption before dying in my own take.

Regarding any hate I receive for both my tear down of Mara and my changed plans for my own Star Wars Canon, I will tell you this: I am one person with these thoughts and feelings, so far as I can see, whereas the much adored Mara Jade has hundreds of appearances in old Star Wars media and various fanfictions. If you can't tolerate my dislike for Mara, then go suck your thumb while reading Legends books involving her. It's not worth either of our time to fight over that blasted female, and I've got too much on my table to bother wasting my free time arguing over her.

Good day, and may the Force be with you.

[burr-ell]

Honestly, it feels really good seeing Claude fan who also happens to love Lady Rhea. There's really not enough of us

Sending love 💛💚

anon this warmed my heart so much im gonna give u a snippet from the claude & rhea friendship fic i never got around to finishing <3

He took a deep breath and knocked.

“Enter.”

He opened the door and stepped into the archbishop’s chambers. The atmosphere was surprisingly soothing, sunlight streaming through the windows and a floral perfume permeating the air. Rhea was sitting up in her nice, if plain-looking, canopy bed, resting against a couple of squashy pillows with a teacup and a book on the bedside table.

“You wished to see me, Claude?” she asked.

“I did.”

“I take it you have further questions?”

“Thought I’d come to pick your brain,” he said easily. “You’re the only one who’s ever taken on Nemesis directly. We need all the help we can get straight from the source.”

Rhea smiled, almost unnervingly genuine. “I can advise you, provided we discuss what’s really on your mind first.”

He’d expected her to be able to disarm him, but he hadn’t expected her to be so pleasant about it. Still, he was nothing if not nimble. “That easy to read, am I?”

“Not at all, actually. Seteth has often complained of it to me.” Her eyes flicked upward, a practiced gesture of exasperated fondness. “But do not forget that I have been in hiding for over a thousand years. There are many skills I lack, but I can detect a master of the craft.”

“Then it looks like we’re on the same playing field.”

Rhea sighed. “I cannot force you to lower your guard, nor do I expect it, but…please, at least have a seat.”

She gestured to the chair next to her bed, and Claude seated himself, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

“I gather you would still like to know more of the story of your professor.”

“There are still so many things that Byl—Teach still doesn’t know.”

“Including that you are here speaking with me.”

Claude nodded—he’d have been more surprised if she hadn’t guessed. “I didn’t want to worry her. And I think…she needs time before she can speak to you objectively.”

Rhea heaved a sigh, tipping her head back against the bed frame. “I understand. I—I gave you both quite enough information to take in. And…and she must be feeling…I cannot possibly understand what.”

“Neither can she.” He was careful to keep his tone neutral, but it was hard not to be accusatory.

“I owe her many apologies,” Rhea said softly. “Apologies that I cannot expect her to accept.”

“I can’t speak to where her head’s at right now,” Claude said slowly (honestly, Byleth’s head was still an enigma to him sometimes), “but I don’t think she’s—angry. She’s just…” He pressed his lips together in thought, then continued. “She’s spent her whole life being treated like a tool. And then she came here and sort of…found herself. And then she found out that someone who helped make that happen also wanted to use her.” He would know. He’d done the very same thing, before he’d gotten to know his best friend. His…well.

Rhea closed her eyes miserably. “I know. I have greatly wronged her.”

“She also understands why you did it,” Claude continued, “and why you kept it a secret. It’s just…a lot to process. Especially for someone who for so long didn’t even understand how to really feel anything.”

“And what about you?”

Claude tipped his head. “Me?”

Rhea frowned. “You are known for your inquisitiveness, and your thirst for knowledge. Yet you did little to question what I revealed to you. Why?”

Claude propped his chin in one hand, rubbing his lip thoughtfully with his index finger. “Honestly…what you told us made everything I’d been looking at for five years click into place. Just looking at the Relics alone, knowing what we know, and you can tell they’re made of—y’know.”

Rhea nodded, in a resigned sort of way.

“But if you don’t know the full story,” Claude went on, “you might not really think about it. Most people can’t use them, and they’re kept hidden away when they’re not being wielded. Even I didn’t get a look at Failnaught until my grandfather actually passed and I inherited the estate.”

Churning insides were nothing new to Claude, having dealt with them both naturally and otherwise, but even mentioning the bow was making him a bit queasy. How he’d yearned for the chance to wield it, knowing it would give him the opportunity to study it up close and grant him the power to achieve his greatest dreams, and now…

“It all makes sense now,” he continued softly. “I’ve never heard of something so horrific. And the way Seteth and Flayn are so secretive, and how upset Seteth was when Flayn went missing…” He paused, mulling over whether to reveal this particular piece of information—but it was unlikely that Rhea hadn’t seen such a thing coming, and at any rate, in light of all she’d shared with them, she deserved as full a story as he could give in return. “Seteth once confiscated a diagram I was showing Teach, of a creature called The Immaculate One. It had already given me some clues about Crest stones and Relics. At the time I thought it was because the church had something to hide…and in a way, I was right. And now I know that he was right to take it.”

Claude leaned a little closer, meeting Rhea’s eyes and their combined relief and sorrow. It was an expression he knew well—of finally finding someone who understood. “I didn’t even think to say it before. I am so, so sorry, for everything that happened to you. No one deserves to live in fear just because of who they are.”

“You…” Rhea swallowed thickly, eyes misting. Claude fell silent and averted his gaze, giving her a moment to regain her composure.

She took a deep breath. “Your words touch my heart—truly, they do. Yours is a perspective gained from cruel experience.”

She knew. Or at least she’d guessed. It was unsurprising, really, but he couldn’t help the thrill of anxiety pulsing in the back of his mind. Even so…there was an odd kinship here, one he didn’t even feel with Byleth when they discussed it, that kept his panic at bay. “Yeah,” he murmured, “I do. I know better than most people what it’s like to be resented and hated for being who I am. And what I’ve been through…it can’t even compare to what happened to you, and Seteth and Flayn.”

Rhea smiled, eyes still watery. “Such things are not competitive. At the end of it all, there are others who understand.”

[swifty-fox]

After reading all the sexy clegan asks, I would pay some good money to watch their OF 😵‍💫. I feel like this is a more polite way of saying I want to be the fly on the while while gale gets twisted into a pretzal. Or while John gets bent over the dinner table. Swifty, my dude (slides a case full of money across a table), how do you feel about an AU where two beautiful entrepreneurs take agency of their body's and their sexualities and make some good, honest money... together 😉. (I feel like I'm turning into Barry in Saltburn. I would drink the bathwater. SEND HELP. I need psychiatric care now!)

John Gamer Girl Bathwater lmao.

but!! your mind anon lmao. I got to spend a fun night with a couple aussie SW's a few years ago after a cancelled festival (not in THAT way. had a mutual acquaintance and offered to hang out with them since we all suddenly had no plans) and It was fun picking their brains about their lives. They were both primarily dancers.

John starts an only fans after graduating college with a degree in sports management. It's not that he CAN'T get a job but he's suddenly like 'fuck just because i like sports do i really wanna make this my career???' kinda lounges around a bit until the bills poke him on the shoulder. He's like hmmmmm wow if i go into the service industry i'll kill someone. I'm hot I got abs and a mustache and I'm six three I can probably do this. Starts off with a lotta POV handjobs and general thirst traps. He doe's great, its John Egan so he's just got that natural charisma and his voice is deep and shoulders broad and he's real good at dirty talking so he does custom audios for a price. Gets into the collab world on twitter and kinda shoots up in fame real quick. More of a top, bi asf like all my au's so he's kinda going across the board. He's pretty open about what his job is and the people who have a problem with it he kindly tells to fuck off

Gale starts one to put himself through his masters degree then finds out it kinda just.... makes a lot more money with a much looser schedule LOL.

He takes a long while to get good at it. He's hot as hell and has all the creepy dom top accounts all over him but he's shy and takes him a long time to figure out how to sell his content properly. He can't quite get into the cock hungry bottom bitch slut role that people wanna shove him into and it hurts him a bit. But he does manage to get a decently sized following pretty quick. King of the moaning clips, great fuckin one-on-one vidoes of him riding a toy.

John stumbles across Gale as everyone does: scrolling the porn tag on twitter looking for a lil somethin somethin. Those pretty lips wet and flushed as if they've been thoroughly used and those soulful eyes looking up at the camera as Gale hangs his head off the edge of a bed ready to be a perfect sleeve for his dick.

He wrings one out real fuckin quick, drops him a follow and a DM in that order introducing himself and asking if he's ever done a collab.

of course Gale already follows John. He thinks he's handsome but hes got no interest mixing business and pleasure (lmao just wait pookie). He's also never done a collab, never fucked another person on camera. But. but.

John is handsome.

And he knows the guy is legit and safe, has seen him ALL OVER (certified bicycle John Egan always) and knows he's had good reviews.

Gale's had many DM's asking for collabs. This is the first he accepts.

How can he not when John is in there saying "Hey man great content. Would to love maybe have you fuck me" as casual as can be.

Gale's never thought to FUCK someone on camera. Sure he likes both but like I said people want a certain image from. So that in of itself is appealing.

He agrees wholeheartedly

He puts John on his knees on a mattress and pulls his hair until his eyes water, presses him down with a hand between his shoulderblades for that perfect fuckin arch and and spanks him until John is jumping away from even a brush of his hands and whimpering, camera angled to get the perfect shot of his tear stained cheeks.

"Come on darlin," gale croons in that drawl "The people wanna see you break for them, give it all to me."

He fucks John, ass still stinging so he flinches every time Gale bottoms out but damn does he love it and damn does it make for good content.

John comes out of that session already in love.

and of course collabs usually film a bunch of content. gotta capitalize.

So after some rest and recuperation John does exactly what he's fantasized about and lays Gale over the edge of his bed and fucks his throat. Loud and wet and noisy. Spit and pre-come and tears dripping down Gales face into his hair; onto the floor. John takes a little break to rub it all over his face and tell him he makes such a good pocket pussy. Gale's gunna come just from this if Johns not careful. He doesn't have to worry though because once John goes back down his throat he reaches over and gives Gale a nice handy.

Spins him around and fucks him while he's too sensitive and screaming, half cringing away from it but also grinding back because fuck is does John know how to fuck.

John gripping gales hips in his big hands and telling him "Now you're not running away from me yet sweetheart haven't rode you raw yet"

They fuck a lot more. a LOT more. For the content of course. And then theyre like hey maybe we should move in together as colleagues and friends. Except??? maybe?? they start fucking off camera. And maybe they cuddle on the couch. and hold hands. and kiss and go on dates. And maybe they get married?? As colleagues of course.....or not

[sl33paholics]

Forever Banished In The Shadows

A little drabble for my cutie patootie, Jonathan ❤️ (okay as I post this, this is wayyy longer than I expected lol)

Warning(s): mentions of blood and gore, emotional distress, Dio Brando, references to cannibalism, jojo being driven to insanity in general

He should've been stronger.

He should've been wiser.

Succumbing to his loss against his vampiric-turned adoptive brother, Dio, Jonathan was ready to die in a pool of his own blood and be torn apart by his vampire brethren he would have welcomed the pain if it meant getting rid of his agony and tormenting his foes until they were all gone from his life. If anything, the battle between them made him fight harder so he wouldn't have to look at his brother's twisted face. Dio's eyes held no pity for Jonathan. Instead, they were filled with satisfaction and disgust.

Although, Dio took pity on the man. How rare. To see the man he's been dedicated to take down and overthrown, now in front of him bleeding out and the life in his eyes slowly fading away, even if Jonathan looked like such an arrogant cockroach that Dio wouldn't hesitate to crush him. He almost felt bad about it. Almost. After all, his brother has never cared for people outside of himself and what he could do for himself.

As if his life was beginning to flash before his eyes, Dio rammed the stone mask onto Jonathan's face as the blue haired male felt the familiar cold metal touching his skin, and piercing through his skull making it impossible for him to remove, or escape.

That was the moment where the heroine, Jonathan Joestar, died.

It had been months since that incident. The blue haired man is now a slave to his brother, Dio. The horrific moments he'd seen of the abuse of the stone mask being used onto others, seeing them become mindless victims and monsters without a will of their own. Doing awful deeds to the innocent and causing havoc in the town.

The way he'd see his brother suck the blood of women. Seeing their half naked bodies with dark, gaping bloody holes in their necks as they laid on the floor dead, or even throwing them and having those mutated animals feast on them as if they were nothing but prey waiting for their master to be done with them.

Jonathan felt trapped. Well, he is.

He could no longer eat human food, the need for hunger is no longer there and being surrounded by those with such a rich scent of blood made the man want to drink it right from their veins and devour them all. His body craved the sweet taste of blood. Even when JoJo doesn't drink any, he finds himself wanting more of it. And when he doesn't get enough, he wants to kill them all. It felt like suicide. Destroying his body so others won't have to suffer his uncontrollable wrath.

That was until Dio got tired of him. He found no use of keeping a man who wasn't useful. So, he threw the poor soul into the streets, just to make sure that JoJo could not do anything anymore.

Jonathan had to fend for himself. Finding shelter was a living hell. He had to resort into cannibalism to survive. He didn't want to, he didn't know how or why, but every day he woke up in the middle of the night craving some fresh blood from strangers, Jonathan would immediately devour the person in one sitting. As soon as he finished the last drop, he would vomit his guts out.

It felt wrong. JoJo was frightened of himself.

Now, here he is, salivating heavily in front of a broken mirror as JoJo's body shivers, feeling the need to feed again, the urge that was becoming stronger and stronger each time. The thirst that Jonathan couldn't ignore. If he wanted to get enough blood to live a decent life, he had to find a way. But, how?

How did he survive before? There's no point in asking himself that question since he already knew.

By the door, his lover can only watch as they sob silently, the tears streaming freely down their face and didn't say anything, they only watched Jonathan struggle to keep himself together knowing how hard it is for him and that it's killing JoJo inside. They knew that he was doing this for a reason. To keep himself safe, to keep both of you safe watching the man cough up blood.

Jonathan promised himself he wouldn't become a blood thirsty freak like Dio or his men, but at what point can he restrain himself any longer? When will he stop fighting against nature? When will he finally succumb and give in to its call?

The answer, Jonathan knew, was very soon.

It had started with his lover.

[tora-the-cat]

one of the funniest things about Itachi and Sasuke is that they are BOTH so 'I love it when people play mind games with me. I will kill us both <3' coded likkkke!!

His FATHER spent Itachi's whole life grooming him to lead a coup and become the first Uchiha Hokage, and Itachi spent every second he could undermining that and then eventually has no choice but to kill him! Danzo (and Hiruzen) backed Itachi into a corner and made him do the unthinkable, so Itachi made a 10 year plan for his own death and fully intended to murder Danzo if he ever tried to pull some shit with Sauske village be damned, and THEN Sasuke finding out about the whole situaiton IS what killed Danzo in the end, and it WASN'T EVEN PART OF ITACHI'S PLAN!! Obito got so angry at this 6 year old for being an optimist and a pacifist that he killed his teammates and then actively assisted the kid in an ethnic cleansing to break Itachi's spirit and make him an ideal pawn for the Akatsuki, and Itachi just! Got super depressed (again, 10 year death plan) and hated his guts and starts dissociating whenever Obito talks!! He delays the Akatsuki's plans by years because Obito is now nervous to directly attack Konoha while Itachi's still breathing! and he's STILL spying for Konoha and Obito is either willfully ignorant because he thinks Itachi is a lame party pooper or too scared to do anything about it!!

And Sasuke???? SASUKE!!! Spends his ENTIRE LIFE under the thumb of people who think they know him and how to manipulate him and are wrong EVERY TIME! Orochimaru thinks his thirst for power is so all consuming that he doesn't care about himself or anything else outside of killing Itachi and is thus incapable of independant scheming or betrayal, and he gets KILLED FOR IT! Obito makes the SAME damn mistake he made with Itachi and underestimates Sasuke because he thinks that he's so broken by his brother's fate that he's suseptible to any and all suggestion, and Sasuke doesn't give a FUCK about ANYTHING besides his own plans anymore, and is absolutely just going to do whatever he thinks is right until it inevitably kills him, and honestly I wouldn't be surprised it Obito was on his hitlist- and, at the end of the day, Obito DOES end up dead!! Gaara tries to empathize but is still learning empathy so instead Sasuke just feels like his LITERAL GENOCIDE is being trivialized, and ALMOST dies for it! Danzo assumes he's just another corrupted wayward Uchiha, and gets KILLED FOR IT! Kakashi thinks that Sasuke is Just Like Him For Real and thus he knows that Sasuke is beyond saving and must die, and gets ALMOST killed for it and then proven WRONG!! Literally ALL of the fucking HOKAGE try to plea for Konoha's legitimacy and lie like DOGS using all of their politician plays of why Sasuke should Stop, and he calls bullshit on all of it anyway! Sasuke spent his entire young life getting passed around like a hot potatoe between men projecting their own trauma onto him and convincing themselves that they know his every move because they once were him, but NO ONE has EVER been doing it like Sasuke and none of them accounted for the fact that he's so scared of everything and full of love and never wrong and not afraid of death or any of them and they've been dead since Sasuke decided they were annoying!!

Naruto and Sakura were only able to get through to him at ALL because Naruto lacks the decorum to be manipulative and thus Sasuke can engage with his bullheaded arguments without feeling actively hunted (like he HAS BEEN his WHOLE LIFE) and Sakura actually DOES understand him and his motivations and his soul in it's entirety because she spent their adolescence studying him like a bug, so she can meet him EXACTLY where he's at. The only person in the world who ever successfully manipulated Sasuke was Itachi, which makes sense considering he mastered the art of it FIRST!!

[chevelleneech]

Gonna die on the hill that people are against the possibility of Qimir being an honest bad guy, because he’s not white.

Why? Because Kylo Ren was instantly accepted as misunderstood and secretly caring for Rey, despite there being no brewing romance in their first interactions, and him being a visible dictator and killer. Meanwhile, Qimir hasn’t been confirmed in canon as lying about much of anything.

He didn’t tell Mae who he was, but that doesn't mean he is lying to Osha. He’s seemingly omitting just as much truth from her as Sol is, but more to my overall point, there is no unbreakable law in storytelling that says all antagonists must be liars and abusers

Qimir being honest about what he wants from Osha may be a form of manipulation, but it’s not on the same level as mind control or abuse. He’s telling her what it is or at the very least what he believes it to be, and it’s up to her to decide if she believes him.

As well, his potential attraction to her is being undermined, because again, people can’t seem to believe that a villain feels desire. Despite him saying it is one of many emotions which allows people to use the Force without being Jedi. So given Osha is beautiful, and has a strong power she knows not yet how to use that is clearly enticing to him… why can’t he be attracted to her?

Yes, it’s reasonable to assume he’s done evil before and killed people in the past, but we do not actually know that. And if he were white, I sincerely think more people would be willing to take that into consideration. Yes, Manny is gorgeous and that fact is helping drown out a lot of negative-for-negative-sake complaints, but if Kylo’s behavior can be overlooked so he can continue to be thirsted after and sympathized with, why is no one pointing out the canon evidence that Qimir is being viewed as a villain, yet hasn’t done very many villainous things?

The extent of his crimes, factually, are: impersonation and murder (of one person). Every other murder was a result of what he said in ep6, which is that he did it out of self-defense. And there has yet to be any proof that he forced Mae to kill Indara or Torbin. He pretended to be concerned for her life if she didn’t do it, but only because The Master would drop her as an apprentice. I don’t recall them saying he’d kill her if she failed. At least not until she said she was turning on him.

So all I’m saying is, while Qimir might be framed as the villain due to his preference of using the Dark Side to tap into the Force, that doesn’t mean he is a remorseless character only capable of lying and abusive-leaning manipulation. He might very well just want a pupil, and is hoping to find one in Osha, whom he may also be attracted to.

And disclaimer: I’m not saying people can’t like Kylo or ship Reylo. I’m just saying, he was much more of an evil person, established almost immediately, and still people ship them and feel sympathy for him. Much like they do with almost any white male villain on screen. So Qimir technically not yet being half as bad, should allow him much more grace within fandom, but it’s not. And that reason usually stems from racism.

And I guess I’m pointing this out now, because if my theories are correct and he isn’t the ultimate big bad who wants to cause Osha harm, I already know how that’s going to go down. It feels obvious to me that he isn’t, even though I’ll gladly be wrong because I’m enjoying the show either way. But I know that won’t be the case for most people who’ve already decided they hate the show. They’ll take it as a cop-out to instead focus on an “unnecessary” romantic arc, but again… thus far it’s not a far fetched theory to me. I think Qimir is an antagonist, but not the villain. Which doesn’t make him a good guy, but it also doesn’t make him abusive and irredeemable.

[twistedastrology]

♊My take on Mercury's signs♊

---------------------------------------------------------

to elaborate on the title before i start yapping at maximum capacity, this is my take on what signs Mercury feels most comfy in vs the signs it struggles/is more Prone to struggling in- also my take on its rulership 🙏🙏

ok so everyone knows Mercury as the ruler of Gemini and Virgo, and a lot of people like to say that Mercury is exalted in Virgo but i have never believed that personally-

so in my opinion, Mercury rules Gemini, and Virgo is just kind of... elsewhere... idk where virgo goes tbh idk give it to chiron or sumn- BUT-

Mercury rules Gemini, and is exalted in Aquarius-

most people have heard that!! but what if i told u it's also exalted in Libra and therefore feels comfy in all air signs.

i say Libra because most really good interviewers have Mercury in Libra, and even Noah Sebastian from Bad Omens has his Mercury in Libra in a Pisces degree (makes total sense if u ask me).

Mercury in Libra in my experience are people who are MASTERS of talking to people from all different walks of life, they are so respectful and deliberate in how they word things and will more often than not correct themselves if they even say a wrong word, expressing a strong sense of respect for whatever they're talking about.

in a similar vein, Mercury in Capricorn ppl are VERY respectful and they will be very deliberate with the words they say even if it doesn't necessarily come off that way because they talk very fast in comparison. their brains are usually running at like 70 billion mph so they can get a little frazzled and trip up on their words a lot easier than Libra Mercuries but they still do their best to be respectful, and their thirst for knowledge is intense to say the least. (jonathan davis, awsten knight and bill wurtz all have Mercury in Capricorn)

so what are my opinions on the signs Mercury is most comfy in? here lemme do a table for u:

Mercury in Aries - Comfy

Mercury in Taurus - not super comfy 💔

Mercury in Gemini - comfy!!!!!!

Mercury in Cancer - comfy

Mercury in Leo - not rly comfy

Mercury in Virgo - it Depends but i would say not Super comfy

Mercury in Libra - VERY comfy

Mercury in Scorpio - comfy!!

Mercury in Sagittarius - comfy!!! (contrary to being considered in it's detriment)

Mercury in Capricorn - pretty comfy

Mercury in Aquarius - YESSIRRRRR 🎊🎊🎊

Mercury in Pisces - not very comfy 💔

so ull notice that mercury is comfortable in Most signs, and that's bc it's a very easy to get along with planet tbh- it could be comfy even in the ones i said it wouldn't be as long as it has good aspects, and it can be uncomfy in any of the signs i said it would be comfy in if it's afflicted-

the word comfy looks fucking weird as shit now oh god in heaven above- ANYWAy

so let me elaborate on mercury in Sagittarius because i know it might be confusing for a lot of ppl since we always hear mercury in sagittarius is in its detriment-

that pic is so fuckg pretty omg Anyway-

Ok so i need to make a post abt my take on Jupiter because it changed DRASTICALLY but to sum it up real quick (and unfortunately leave out a lot of detail bc i suck at summaries), Jupiter is the divine scholar and more of the messenger than Mercury is-

Jupiter, and therefore Sagittarius, are all about infinite learning-

most people say Aries is the fool card in tarot, but I'm so sure that it's Sagittarius.

the sign you have Jupiter in or the aspects you have to Jupiter can give you clues on what you LOVE learning about- Jupiter in Gemini would basically be everything, and Jupiter in Scorpio, in my personal experience, is a love for learning abt the taboo and what is often swept under the rug- the darker parts in life.

similarly, whatever placements you have in Sagittarius can tell you kinda the same thing- ill have to elaborate more on this later BUT

bc of this, Mercury in Sagittarius is very comfortable because it's combining the need for knowledge of two planets into one. Mercury in Sagittarius ppl could be naturally curious about everything and especially what everything means. they love the bigger picture and they wanna know WHY everything is and how it got to be.

my reasoning for Mercury being comfortable in most signs is also elemental to a degree- mercury fucking loves going everywhere and doing everything and learning everything, so it feels most comfortable in elements that are flowy in a way (air, water and fire).

putting mercury in an earth sign is basically giving it claustrophobia, with the exception of Capricorn because Saturn totally gets little baby mercury's desire for knowledge- imagine Mercury and Saturn as like- mercury is the enthusiastic little baby and Saturn is the surprisingly gentle father 😭💞

Mercury in Capricorn has a distinct fire undertone to it as well, because Capricorn is the cardinal earth sign (fire-coded earth). this combined with Saturn's drive for knowledge as well makes for a surprisingly good mercury placement- (it's similar to how mars is exalted in capricorn, the saturn influence gives mars/mercury the direction, but doesn't strip it of its energy)

Mercury in Virgo or Taurus though is much more earthy, especially Taurus- Mercury wants to go everywhere and learn everything and Taurus doesn't care all that much, so Mercury's kinda stuck 💔

this being said!

Mercury in Scorpio or Cancer is actually not all bad- Mercury and Pluto's relationship is a little less understanding than Mercury and Saturn's relationship, but Pluto can get behind Mercury's desire for knowledge regardless, so they compromise and you have someone who can psychoanalyze almost anyone, and pick apart bigger things without losing sight of the whole picture.

Mercury in Cancer, tying back to my incredibly different interpretation of Cancer, isn't necessarily someone whose thinking is clouded by their emotions- (if afflicted though, this Can be the case)

Cancer, ruled by Neptune (as per my post abt my take on Neptune), similar to Scorpio, can get behind Mercury's love of learning- But Cancer, being a cardinal sign (fire-coded water) has the same passion that Mercury does, and being water, can go with a much similar flow that Mercury wants, seen as it rules Gemini, a very flowy air sign.

being a cancer rising with my mercury in my 11th/12th house in 1° (aries) gemini and sextiling my saturn, you can imagine how insane i am- once i find something to really fixate on i do not stop until I've learned as close to everything as I can get 💔

mercury is my absolute favorite planet in astrology, and I've always loved it in general so i could yap abt it for eons and probably not get tired 💔💔

that little planet is the reason my brain is hardwired the way it is and i love it so much despite the fact that it's Probably the reason for my adhd but whatever i can deal 😮‍💨

but ya i hope this was interesting to read!! ill have to make my post abt jupiter soon but!! OH and if ur interested in any further reading, i did it a while ago but i wrote an actual newsletter abt my love for mercury if u wanna look at it with ur eyes 🙏 it talks more abt the basic stuff and mercury retrograde but it's also a lot more professionally written than any of this so 😭😭