#threatening mention tw

[the-real-list-of-ominous-threats]

I'm going to make you unironically want to fuck springtrap

[poisonousquinzel]

Batman (2016) #100

the way it probably took him a second to find her after he abandoned Joker and chased after her. how the bomb evidently did detonate.

i'll ponder forever over how that moment went down and how he prevented the explosion from killing her, but not enough to save her from being severely injured & unconscious for a week recovering. how he spent hours at her bedside in case she happened to wake up that day, how he went to her hospital room on that day as well despite "I had to bury my father again today. I did it with my family." And having every beyond reasonable excuse to just not that day,,. he still made time and effort to check in on her.

the day dc treats harley's suicidal ideation as exactly what it is and let's the characters around her acknowledge it will be a glorious win for the community

[sorrowful-hyacinth]

Two Sides of The Same Coin

[Previous / Next] — {Masterlist}

Content: TW Restraints, TW SA Threat, TW Knifepoint, TW Threats of Violence, TW Fear, Siren Whump, Sadistic Whumper, Defiant Whumpee.

+++

Malik made sure to keep the crew below deck for the night. Not wanting to give the siren any attempts at enchanting his men with his singly voice. He knew his crew could be slightly weak minded compared to his own will, so it wouldn’t take more than a few hypnotic whispers from a siren to get them on their knees like dogs at your heel. That being said, he didn’t trust himself either, not having ever dealt with a siren before. He thought it strange for one to be so far off from the Mediterranean Sea where they are said to dwell.

Despite his caution, his intrigue was stronger. The thrill of having a threat on board and at his mercy. A creature of legend no less, his pride was beaming even under his cool facade while he cataloged in his journal about the days events. The warm light of a lantern softly illuminating the desk he was sitting at while the ship swayed in a lullaby motion. Absently signing his signature on the page before closing the large journal. His thumb ghosting over the golden lettering of the leather cover where it read:

Captains Log of the Sirens Solstice.

He always found that name ironic until today. Given that sirens rarely, if ever, came all the way to the Caribbean unless it was for a reason. On top of that, it was certainly out of place for a siren to be alone when traveling so far. A trinity of knocks at his door broke his thoughts. Sighing and standing up from his chair before he walks over to open the door, his boots softly thumping on the wooden planks with each step. 

When he opens the door, he sees Jovey standing on the other side. Holding a bottle of rum with two chalices in his other hand. He raises them up in his hands as if presenting them.

“Could I bother you with a drink, Captain?” He asked with a softer voice, with it being late in the night and not wanting to stir the crew from their sleep.

Malik smirked slightly at the offer and chuckled lightly under his breath. “I tell you to stay below deck, but you defy my order to offer me a drink? Some first mate you are.” Despite his chiding words, his tone held no bitterness. Even standing aside and allowing Jovey to step into his cabin.

“I didn’t think that order was directed towards me. Must’ve been some miscommunication.” His cheeky tone being accompanied by a playful smile as he took a seat across from the desk. 

Malik rolled his eyes to Joveys’ back while closing the door. Then he made his way back to his seat behind the wooden desk that separated them. Jovey already pouring two glasses of rum for them before offering one of them. Malik taking it gingerly and softly clinking his glass to Joveys’. “So… how is the lad. Cormack, right? He’s not dying or anything, is he?” He asked casually while taking a sip of his drink.

“No, he’s alright. The swellings already going down thankfully. It doesn’t seem like whatever that siren stung him with is lethal. Just knocks you down a peg.”

Malik nods slightly with an unconcerned hum. Tapping his fingers along the side of the chalice while he holds it on the table. It’s not that he didn’t care about his crews’ well-being, their condition just never weighed on his mind. He would internally scold them for being weak enough to get injured or comprised so easily, but he usually put up the persona of a caring captain that was only stern when he needed to be. That didn’t stop him from wanting to strangle his crew himself whenever they made amateur mistakes or found themselves incapacitated. His eyes drifting off towards a window to the side of them that showed the moonlight cascading over the waves. “Why do you think that creature was sent to us?”

Jovey follows his gaze towards the window for a moment before looking back towards him again, noting his almost distant tone as if he was filing through a million thoughts. “I’m not so sure about him being ‘sent’ to us for a reason, Captain, but I’m sure he’s just lost. Probably swam too far away from home.” Taking a sip as he takes a break to organize his own mind. He knew Malik could be ruthless, he’s seen it before even if the newer men in the crew weren’t there to witness it. When the siren came on board, although being at the stern side and taking over the wheel, he could see what was occurring on deck. Noting the way his Captains eyes glinted with a new found fervor, that smile that he knew all too well meant there was a danger brewing. “Why do you believe it was for a reason?”

“Because the tides strike with purpose…” Malik said matter-of-factly. Averting his eyes from the window and turning his attention back to Jovey. Noticing how he seemed to be almost analyzing him, trying to figure out his intentions. “… the sea does not act randomly as one might believe. Everything happens for a reason out on these waters, whether it be to our benefit or disadvantage.” Malik can’t help but smile faintly with a soft scoff as he glances down at his drink. “I’m starting to sound like that old quack Azure.”

Joveys’ smile mirrored Maliks’, his head shaking back and forth in an amused manner. “You sound more like him everyday. In a good way… it’s why he chose you.” Studying his expression, Malik had a gaze of longing, almost nostalgic. A soft smile that was rarely seen, if ever, only when they were alone. “You know, I remember when I first got pulled onto this ship. We were around the same age… not that we still aren’t obviously, but for some reason I always felt like you were older than me. You always knew what you were doing, and you were one of the few people in the crew who gave me a chance.”

Malik redirected his gaze to Jovey once again, a bit taken aback by the sudden throwback and vulnerability, but he tried not to soften his features out of habit of being stoic. “Trust me, I never knew what I was doing. I only ever acted like I knew everything because that’s the only way to get people to respect you.” He swished his rum in his cup absently before taking another sip. “You’re a good man, Jovey. For once, I might even admit to feeling a bit jealous of you. The crew loves you, and we’re all lucky to have you. But if you tell them I said that, then I’ll skin you and toss you off the plank myself.” He couldn’t help but give that teasing threat with a smug smile.

That drew out a soft snort from Jovey as he smiled a bit wider from the playful threat he knew had no real malice behind it. Not when it came to him. He leaned back in his chair as he took his own glass from the table to hold it on his lap. “Who’s to say I’ll give you the chance, Captain? I might just throw myself overboard before you can catch me.” He counters back jokingly.

“If you do that, lad, I’ll jump into the raging tides to fish you out just so I can have the pleasure of pushing you off myself.” 

“Maybe I’ll tie a cannon ball to my foot so I sink faster and you won’t be able to pull me up.”

“Maybe I’ll just shoot a harpoon into your leg and force the crew to hoist you out of the water.”

“You’d go through all that trouble just to feed me to the sharks yourself?”

“For you, Jovey, you better believe I would.”

They both stare at each other in silence for a few seconds that seemed to stretch on before they both began to laugh and heartily chuckle. Joveys indistinguishable snorts between breaths always made his laugh contagious to Malik. For a moment, he couldn’t help but just watch Jovey, seeing his smile and how bright he looked even in the dim lit quarters. He had to mentally scold himself for staring and allowing himself to find a sense of attachment towards him. He lightly cleared his throat before chugging down the rest of his rum and setting his cup to the side. “Alright, that’s enough banter for one night. Leave me be you scoundrel.” He said lightheartedly.

Jovey rolled his eyes slightly with a small smile and stood up from his chair. Grabbing the rum bottle from the table and collecting the other chalice. “Whatever you say, De Lir, sir.” A hint of sass escaping him, knowing he could get away with it. He turns and heads for the door, cracking it open slightly before turning back to look at Malik. “If I may, Captain. What are you planning to do with the siren?”

A soft tch leaves Malik as he smiles from Joveys sass. When he turns back to inquire about the siren, his smile fades. His cold and aloof demeanor resurfacing. “Good night, Jovey.” 

———

The tides were still calm the next morning. Uneventful, at least, it normally would be. Malik stood before the siren, the crew crowding around in a crescent formation behind him. It was still tied up tightly to the mast. Although it was apparently obvious that it struggled for most of the night based on the claw marks that were carved into the wood of the pillar. Even some of the rope looked shredded and loosened but it wasn’t enough to free itself. It looked like he was asleep. Limp in the restraints and head looked down with his chin touching his chest. They knew better, but that wasn’t what caught all of their attention though.

His tail was gone, or rather, replaced by a pair of legs. His fishy ears reduced to normal human ones. The gills along his ribs replaced by smooth skin. The dark blue claws at the tips of his fingers were now short and trimmed. It was an enigma to both the crew and Malik. The siren they brought aboard was now a seemingly normal young man. They knew it was him, but appearance-wise, it threw them for a loop.

Malik stepped up to the siren and gripped a chunk of the back of his hair before yanking his head back. Seeing the siren wince and let out a hiss of discomfort from his grip. He grinned as he stared down at the siren. Analyzing its features, seeing the marks of light blue along his skin. It’s golden eyes, now being up close, noting the two spots of gold in each of them. “What happened to you, little dragon? Lost your tail?”

The siren glares up at him with a fiery rage. He was frustrated having to be at the mercy of a pirate. He’d bite his hand off and claw that smug smile off his face if he could just loosen the rope enough to get one of his hands free. “I’m dried out you fucking assh—.” 

Malik dug his fingers into the sirens scalp and tugged on his hair harder. Ripping a few hairs out in the process, extracting a groan from him that cuts off his words. He leans down closer to the siren to loom over him. “Your tongue is still as vile as yesterday. Someone wasn’t taught manners growing up…” Malik shoots a quick and hard jab to the sirens gut, the wind being knocked out of him as he tries to double over but the ropes keep him up. “… then again, neither was I.” Malik yanks on his hair and pulls his head back to slam against the mast before releasing his grip. Letting the siren deal with the aching sting in the back of his head. He takes a step back to take in the sirens human form. Observing him with a fascination that was anything but innocent or kind. “What is your name, siren?”

A hiss escapes the man as he tugs at the ropes out of frustration. His eyes scanning the crowd of pirates behind their captain. All of them pathetic and weak in his eyes. How dare any of them even get the privilege of seeing me? They were filthy, pungent, cowards that had no right to be in my presence, let alone hold me captive like this. “Fuck you, fuck all of you!”

Malik simply smiles, not his usual cocky smirk, an eerily sweet smile that was too calm. "We can have that arranged, after all, it's not everyday the lads get to let off a little steam on this ship..." He turns to face his crew. Gesturing with his hand towards the siren, as if offering him. "... isn't that right, boys?"

The crew look amongst each other, wondering if their captain was being serious, if they really did have full liberty to do as they pleased with such a rare catch. The siren staring blankly, feeling a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach at the realization of what the captain just suggested. That was until Malik put his hand up and chuckled breathily.

"Of course, there's one small problem that I'd like to address before you get started."

Reaching for his hidden dagger tucked between the band of his pants, he unsheathes it and turns back to the siren with a quick step, being directly in front of him once again with the curved dagger swiftly finding itself pressed against the creatures neck. The curve of the blade cupping his throat just beneath his adam's apple. The siren freezing from the sudden threatening position but never faltering with his burning glare into Malik's eyes. The pirate staring back with a cold and foreboding gaze.

"That little voice of yours. I can't let you tempt any of my men with it. As disappointed as I'll be to not hear that foul mouth of yours anymore, its time to cut that pretty little voice box out."

Malik drags the dagger along the sirens neck and tilts it up so the tip of the bade was lightly pressed against the bump in the middle of his throat. "If I carefully cut a line right here...", dragging the dagger down along the sirens throat, making him swallow thickly, "... we'll find your larynx. It encompasses your vocal cord. If we just...", a quick flick of the wrist causes the dagger to slice a light cut just off the side of the apple, making the sirens breath hitch and he growls under his breath, "... you won't be able to sing ever again. Helpless... weak... feeble little sea dragon."

"If you fucking do that I swear you'll regret it."

"I don't think I will. In fact, I think I'll enjoy this more than I should."

Even his crew behind him, watching the scene unfold, felt chills go through them having never seen this side of their captain before. Malik grabs the sirens chin in one hand with an iron grip and tilts his head back against the mast. The creature struggling and trying to squirm in the ropes. The pirate carefully grazing the blade along the center of the mans throat. Agonizingly pressing the tip of the dagger against the curve bulging out under the skin slowly. The sirens breath quickening as he gradually becomes panicked, realizing how serious the captain was. He can't help the words that quickly leave his mouth when a trickle of warm blood escapes him.

"I DON'T HAVE A SONG!"

Malik stops progressing, but not drawing back either. He tugs on his chin to pull his head back down to look him in the eye. Gazing with a malicious curiosity but a hint of doubt. "Every siren does, why should I believe you don't?"

"I don't you fuckin' psycho. I wasn't born with it, don't you think I would've tried to use it by now if I had it?"

"I'm not buying that for a second, caviar."

Malik pushes his chin back up and continues where he left off. Digging into the siren's neck more. Drawing out blood as he carves a small line along the apple. Making the creature hiss and groan, his hands clenching into fists as he tries to press impossibly further against the mast to get away.

"I'm being serious! Stop!"

Ignoring his protests, Malik cuts deeper. His hearing tuning out as he focuses on cutting to his goal. His heart was beating steadily, he couldn't help the enjoyment he was getting out of seeing the creature struggle fruitlessly. A sadistic smirk plastered on his face. The siren trying not to let fear take over, but it was getting progressively difficult the more blood that cascaded down his skin. The stinging of the blade slicing through layers of skin. Never in his life had he ever experienced pain, let alone having his own blood leave the safety of his body. He was royalty, he should be the one inflicting pain, he should be the one making this pirate cower beneath him.

"Malik."

A soft voice broke both their thought concentrations. Malik stilling in his actions before he turned to glance over his shoulder with a piercing glare that quickly softened. Seeing Jovey standing behind him, his expression one of concern and trepidation. The siren staring at him with a hint of relief and caution. Jovey steps closer, his eyes darting between his captain and the creature. Swallowing his unease.

"I don't think he's lying."

Malik takes a breather, thinking about his first mates words before reluctantly extracting the dagger from the sirens throat. A string of blood staining the tip of the blade as he lets go of the creatures chin and stands up fully. He turns around to face Jovey, a calmer aura exuding from him. He averts his gaze towards the crew still observing the scene. Some looking uncomfortable and uneasy, others indifferent or even seemingly intrigued. "We arrive at Port Royal tomorrow morning. Toss the bilgerat into one of the cells below deck. If he truly doesn't have the gift, then nobody will have a reason to let him out by then."

Malik looks back towards Jovey, holstering his dagger to his side.

"We'll see if your judgement is as sound as it always is, savvy?"

+++

Date: September 22, 2024

Taglist: @paperprinxe , @melpomenelamusa

[trans-axolotl]

Do you have any advice on who to talk to about my self-harm? I really need to talk to someone but my parents might tell my psychologist and my psychologist might put me in a psych ward and the only friend I’d feel comfortable talking to about this stuff is currently in the psych ward and I can visit them but theyre dealing with enough right now and there has to be a nurse present for all visits anyway so that might also end up with me in a psych ward

Hi anon.

You deserve to access support for your self harm that meets your needs, and to have compassionate people you can talk to about your self harm that aren't judging you or threatening you with things like involuntary hospitalization. That's really rough that your friend is now in the psych ward and that you can't talk to them about it anymore, I can imagine how exhausting that must be for you right now. And I know how difficult it can be to try to navigate mandatory reporting, figure out who's safe to talk to, and actually access the kind of support you need. I have a few suggestions, but please feel free to ignore any that aren't relevant to your life or reach out again if you need more advice or support.

The first group I want to share is Self Injury Support UK. Depending on where you live, their text and call line might not be as accessible to you, but they also have a webchat service that should be back up soon. They are a really great org that wants to create a space for people to talk openly about self harm and get support without being judged or with people immediately threatening you, and they also have a lot of resources on their site.

Another resource is the Wildflower Alliance Discord Server. This is another peer support space where it is okay to talk openly about self harm and receive support. I know that for some people big discord servers can be pretty overwhelming, but Wildflower Alliance also has a Peer Support Line that you could call to talk to someone and get individual support, and lots of other resources, especially if you're local to Western Mass.

If you're trying to figure out how to access irl resources in your life, one tip that helped me when trying to figure out if someone was safe to talk to was to directly ask if they were a mandatory reporter, what sort of things would trigger them to make a report, or to try to have conversations with them about things like how I thought it was important to make sure cops are never involved in crisis calls, to have actually confidential spaces, and to see how they respond. Then I could decide what kind of information I want to share with them or not. If you're interested in talking to your parents but really don't want them to tell your psychologist, maybe bringing up some of these topics or coming into a conversation prepared with resources to show them might help you navigate the conversation. (Of course, you're going to know your parents best and know whether that's even an option.) It might also be helpful to figure out exactly what sort of things would make your psychologist try to get you to go to the psych ward so that you could have a little bit more certainty and comfort in knowing what you feel safe discussing with them.

I was assuming based on your ask that you were not an adult so I wanted to share some youth specific ideas, but please feel free to correct me if I was wrong. Sometimes, youth health centers have therapists that actually keep things like self harm confidential. I know that in my area, the LGBTQ youth health center doesn't report self harm or force people to be hospitalization, and that when I was in high school, the youth clinics attached to schools and some of the youth clinics attached to housing services were more flexible about reporting self harm and confidentiality. Would definitely recommend double checking and getting clarification on those policies first, but that was I way that I could sometimes access free wound care supplies and things like that when I was in high school. If you want recommendations specific to your area for irl organizations and feel comfortable sending another anon ask with what state or city you're in, feel free, but absolutely no pressure.

Overall just want to emphasize that you do deserve support and care and I'm sorry that there are so many barriers to you accessing that right now. I really hope that you're able to find someone to talk to and that things get a little easier for you. Sending so, so much solidarity your way and please feel free to come back to my inbox anytime if you need anything, even if it's just to vent.

💜💜💜

[rubberduckyrye]

Sometimes I remember the absolute nonsense asks from another blog Ragnar showed me and it makes me wonder: where is this bootleg of V3 people are playing and how can I find it and play it, cause we are clearly not Talking about the same game???

Like

What the Fuck are YOU talking about, anon???? Literally None of this ask is true??????

Hello?!!

[shalom-iamcominghome]

The positive about my expectations being in hell now for people to care much about antisemetism is I get excited when people care. My dad is so much better about being normal about jews than I thought, and like... I feel safe to rant at him about the negative experiences I've already had.

The negative about my expectations being in hell is that there's a reason for that, but I'm not going to focus on that. It just means a lot to me that my dad accepts my judaism and he's an ally, especially because I was planning on hiding this for a long while longer.

[pareidolla]

// tw abuse rant (nothing angry just moreso exasperated)

i'm going to admit that while i'm enthusiastic for the pristine cut, i'm also a little concerned canon will politely dismiss the tower's abusive elements, and if that happens then i might?? scream????

[mad-hunts]

@divingdownthehole

────────────────────────────

as barton was left to his own devices in the kitchen, it only then just occurred to him how the seven-fold bistro had a tv in the side of their lobby. and that could potentially be very bad if they weren't talking about the latest humdrum gossip in relation to bruce wayne or something — so, he would have to find a way to not appear suspicious and also, turn it off if they were talking about the death of the two guards already. barton sighed to himself as he pushed a chunk of the chicken on his plate to the side. he really had his work cut out for him here, didn't he?

of course, there might be a chance that jervis could handle it, he thought. but the last time he had handled something, he'd done it by sticking pins into someone. barton suddenly found himself standing up as if he was startled by the very thought of something like that happening to ravi. he had to create some sort of plan, for he couldn't just bust out of those doors, even if nothing was going on on that television. he tapped on the cold steel of the table below him with his sharpened nails as he contemplated what to do. maybe he could just stick by the almost saloon style doors of them for a bit and listen in on what exactly was going on out there.

just as ravi and jervis had made it to the front of the restaurant, his feet were carrying him to push his entire body flush against the doors, but with not enough pressure to actually open them. he thought he could hear jervis's voice now, but it was very distorted by the wall between him and the rest of the bistro. so he would have to get closer to the outside if he actually wanted to hear anything. while barton was now stressing, ravi honestly couldn't have looked more relaxed, as any friend of barton's was a friend of his. ( except they weren't really friends at all... but i digress. ) he smiled slightly whenever he heard him mention the soup out of approval, ❝ ooh... good choice. i love our mulligatawny soup, but it usually has rice in it, rather than on the side. but i could always request that our chefs put it there instead if you want. ❞

he shrugged nonchalantly and nodded, knowing that the kitchen would be more than willing to do something like that for jervis. ravi could feel his ears perk up and barton's ears did the same exact thing as a breaking news alert popped up on the tv. alright, well, he was not going to be waiting inside the kitchen any longer for something to happen — that was for sure — and so he opened up one of the doors in such a way that it wouldn't attract much attention. barton seemed to materialize out of quite literally nowhere, at least from ravi's point of view, before he was grabbing him by the opposite shoulder a little aggressively but not too much.

barton had played this off as him trying to playfully scare the other but what he was really aiming to do was turn the tv off. and that's exactly what he managed to do with the remote below the counter while ravi was too busy with being shocked, but then laughing in response to barton's 'cheeky' behavior as he spoke to him in between laughs and pushed him away from him, before punching his arm. ❝ oh, my god. you scared me! you jerk, why did you do that? don't tell me that this is you still being bitter that i beat you last time we sparred or something. ❞ ravi was still laughing, so he obviously didn't mean anything that he said in a malicious way as barton himself tried to catch onto the other's wrist before he punched him, but failed.

barton chuckled a few times before nursing the spot where ravi punched him with his arm. he made himself look guilty, only after winking at jervis whenever the other party wasn't looking, as if to say ' you're welcome ' and said, ❝ ahh, you caught me. but scaring you totally satisfied my need for revenge after you beat me. so, at least there's kind of a positive side to all of this. and just to keep you in the loop, jervis, me and ravi sometimes spar together because we're both boxers, ❞ barton gestured to the other man with one hand while ravi came down from his laughter. he made a playful ' shoo ' gesture towards barton, then. ❝ hey. me and your friend, who is also my friend now, by the way, were having a rather rousing conversation about his interest in the mulligatawny soup before you came along. so if you wouldn't mind... ❞

ravi left barton to fill in the lines of what else he was going to say before the blonde raised his hands in feigned surrender and sat down across a few seats away from them behind the counter. ravi laughed, making a ' come hither ' gesture towards himself, ❝ i was just joking, barton. you don't have to sit so far away. but anyway, i'll put in your order for the soup, if there are no objections? ❞ barton moved silently closer to ravi in particular, setting down his curry in front of him. he seemed oddly a bit protective of ravi based on the look he gave jervis.

it was one that said ' you better continue being nice to him or i'll kill you. ' and trust me, barton would do it, too.

[silly-fox-and-its-stuffies]

guys

Im bedbound bc the pharmacy didnt have the medication for my life threatening disorder so we had to transfer it to another pharmacy and that takes a day or two soooooo I'm prob gonna be bedbound for the next couple days (more context in tags, tw period mention)

but being bedbound also means that I can't get up to eat or drink or use the bathroom (kinda important since yk, period) and my mom works from home and I'm on break so she's busy, and she doesn't understand anyway

[wildmrmix]

Thinking about how Pony almost died at 14 (fourteen). Google says Bob and Randy were 18 (eighteen) and I’m guessing they probably hung around with people their age. These 18 (eighteen) year olds almost drowned someone who hadn’t even been 14 (fourteen) for, what, 2 (two) months? He was literally a child, I can’t do this

[the-real-list-of-ominous-threats]

I will make your weird masochist friend call you a tsundere and beg for you to hit him

[stop-breaking-my-heart-dragonage]

This week on "CJ needs to gush about DAO": Morrigan's dark ritual.

I adore Origins because depending on how serious you take roleplay, every decision you make is a thread that leads back to your origin, and in this case of the ritual, who you choose to romance can have a major impact on how you handle this choice.

For context, my canon run is with a female Tabris who romances Alistair and keeps him as a Grey Warden, and is close friends with Morrigan. It's more in character for my Tabris to reject Morrigan's ritual and not even bring it up to Alistair, which would result in her leaving him behind while she makes the ultimate sacrifice in killing the archdemon... however, agreeing to convince Alistair to do the ritual with Morrigan is the only choice in the entire game where I break roleplay because I'm selfish and weak and I want Tabris to live.

I have a lot of strong feelings about the ritual, like it hurts me. It makes me want to chew on furniture. I can talk about it until I can talk no more. I so badly want to be strong enough to remain in character and reject the ritual.

Let me explain: Tabris survives an origin that deals with sexual assault. She gets kidnapped on her wedding day, she watches the other kidnapped women and her husband get murdered, and then is too late to save Shianni from being assaulted... and Tabris carries that trauma with her throughout the entire game.

If the way to save her life is to ask the two most important people she cares about; one being her lover and the other being her best friend; who she knows hate each other, to have dubiously consensual sex in order to make a baby to absorb the old god soul... she's saying no. The last thing Tabris would ever do is put someone into a sexual situation where consent is at all dubious after what she saw happen to Shianni and nearly happened to herself. She'd rather die than force that upon Alistair and Morrigan.

That's what I mean when I say origin affects everything; I know some will side eye that with "Really? Your warden would rather die than let Alistair sleep with another woman? It's one time, and Alistair agrees to it, so no one needs to die?"

Let me be clear in saying this isn't a "Morrigan slept with my man" issue. Sure, that part's awkward and it sucks, but that's not even breaking water tension, let alone diving into the deep waters to the core of the issue.

For my Tabris, this is about betrayal, consent, and accepting fate.

The person offering Tabris this deal is someone she thought of as a trusted friend who has actually been lying to her the entire time. It doesn't matter what Morrigan's intentions are now or if she genuinely wants to save the wardens. She knew from the beginning why Flemeth sent her with them, she admits as much. She knew a warden would need to make the ultimate sacrifice and then leveraged that to get what she wants. Morrigan waited until the night before, when Alistair and the warden learn one of them has to die to defeat the archdemon, and took advantage of the high running emotions and possibly the fear of dying to make the warden agree to her ritual.

At least, that's how my Tabris interprets this confrontation. She feels betrayed by someone she came to love like a sister and went out of her way to help Morrigan with her mother upon learning what's in Flemeth's grimoire. And then that someone tells her no one needs to die, she just needs to convince Alistair to sleep with her... which is a huge fucking problem.

The Alistair and Tabris romance is slow; it took a long time for either of them to be comfortable with being emotionally vulnerable and trusting each other with basic intimacy, let alone sex. Tabris is mortified at the idea of putting Alistair in this situation. Not only would it feel like a betrayal on her part to ask that of him, but she knows the last thing Alistair ever wants to do is father a bastard who then goes on to grow up without him. How could she possibly ask him to do that?

Then you consider that ritual or no, there isn't a guarantee that they'll survive anyway. Say they do the ritual and Tabris dies anyway; she made Alistair sleep with Morrigan in order to save her and then she died anyway. Or if Alistair dies then Tabris gets to live with the fact that the last person Alistair was with was a woman he hates because she asked that of him… and either way, Morrigan gets to walk away with what she wanted.

Tabris led the group, and she's accepted that if Riordan dies [which he does] then she'll be the one to make the sacrifice, even if it means breaking both hers and Alistair's heart.... except she doesn't because I'm a coward who doesn't want to lose her because my worldstate isn't good without her in it but I also refuse to lose Alistair so I just pretend it plays out differently in my head it's fine-

But... that's how I play Tabris and view the situation. My friend @pi-creates and I have discussed the dark ritual at length. While I play a Tabris who romances Alistair, Pi plays a Mahariel who romances Morrigan, so we have vastly different interpretations of the ritual itself and Morrigan's intentions.

Which yeah, it makes total sense that someone who romanced Morrigan with a different origin, and has the option to do the ritual with her rather than asking someone else to do it, wouldn't see this the way I do.

To quote Pi: "Playing as a male warden in the Morrigan romance makes the whole situation feel different, and maybe it’s because she’s presenting it differently due to the emotional connection, but it feels more like she’s opening up about her initial instructions (that she had been given by Flemeth) and offering a solution to avoid the possibility of death. And for my Mahariel, the constant threat of sudden death has haunted him from the start – he caught the blight and was ripped away from his clan (something he did not want to do in the slightest), got forced into a Grey Warden ritual that could kill him, was forced into a battle that could kill him, going on this whole quest that he never wanted but has now become responsible for regardless of his thoughts on the matter… the dark ritual may be one of the few moments where he is presented with an option to decide if he wants to walk into certain death, or take actions of his own volition to stop it.

"The idea of the ritual still feels like a dodgy thing to do since the ultimate outcome is unknown at that point, he’s taking Morrigan at her word that it will save the warden and that this child would be unharmed, just with an old god soul that she isn’t exactly clear on why she wants that and is determined to runaway immediately after the battle to secure it properly. It could be interpreted that it’s purely a preservation thing, but I’m biased to wanting Morrigan's intentions to not be power based.

"But also, taking part in the ritual isn’t as outlandish for my warden since he and Morrigan have already been involved in an intimate relationship. It’s the future of the ritual that is scarier – the idea of this old-god baby, and the idea of Morrigan insisting that she’s leaving afterwards when Mahariel and her have a loving relationship. He’s hurting, but he doesn’t want to die, he doesn’t want Alistair to die, he doesn’t want Morrigan to leave, he definitely doesn’t want pregnant Morrigan to leave on her own… it’s complicated, but for completely different reasons."

And I find that fascinating. I want to know how other players approach this part of DAO, what origins they play, and who they romanced. Seriously, this is an invitation to anyone reading to share their thoughts.

What about a warden who doesn't even have Alistair in their party because they made Loghain a warden? Is there anyone out there who has Loghain do the ritual with Morrigan and why? What about male wardens who don't romance her? Do you choose to do it with her anyway, or do you ask Alistair or Loghain to do it? Do you tell Morrigan to fuck off with the ritual? Why? Who makes the ultimate sacrifice in that case? And what about Morrigan herself? How do you interpret her intentions/motivations? I want to know.

I'm telling you, this is a discussion that gets me excited, as most discussions about DAO do.

[mushroomsie224]

Does anyone else know/remember Blue Whale?

[gargoylegeckooo]

Just seen a TikTok talking about *that* Nikita Mazepin comment on George’s instagram live, and holy shit, people are way to comfortable about the idea of someone being outed!

There have been many TikToks I have seen trying to bring it back and what not, which is awful in itself, but in this particular one the person went onto saying interviewers should ask George about what it means???

You are ignorant if you do not know what that comment suggests, and to go on to say that George should be asked about it when he is in a happy relationship with his girlfriend is absolutely horrible, and *if* anything was to come from it, you do not deserve to act all happy and supportive of him.

To threaten to out someone is homophobic. To joke about someone threatening to out a person is homophobic.

George’s business is no one else’s business and just because someone of very little importance decided to become a keyboard warrior in George’s Instagram live, you are not entitled to knowing what it meant. Especially considering it probably means nothing!!!

People are too comfortable with casual homophobia and instead of calling people out on that, they’re adding to the problem by making a joke of it.

[jackdaw-and-hattrick]

The press went NUTS when they found out the Dick was working as a pole dancer. It was big news, and everyone wanted to know how Bruce Wayne felt about his Baby Boy working as a stripper. B was… well, he was ticked. Not at Dick, no, he was just proud of him for getting a well paying job in an area he enjoyed. No, B’s fury sat squarely on the press. Papers that had gleefully printed sexual photos and articles about him were now aghast about Dick.

See, B’s whole “playboy” cover wasn’t originally exactly Bruce’s idea. He remembered vividly as a teenager the perceived humiliation of these adults sexualizing every little thing he did and of the constant anxiety of trying and failing to control his image; the way they seemed to pounce on any tiny flaw in his appearance or behavior and the paranoia that developed after the first of many photos of him was published of him just… going about his day, paired with a big red headline blasting him for daring to be a teenager. He remembered being terrified of being seen wearing a swimsuit and refusing to eat in public. So eventually, him leaning into this sexualization as a cover story wasn’t so much because he liked it, but because he knew how eagerly everyone would eat it up.

Now here was Dick, making an informed, consensual choice about how he wanted to be perceived, and they wanted to vilify him for it. So yes, B may have flew off the handles a bit, and yes, it probably wasn’t the best move to punch a reporter, but he had fought Hell to protect his kids from what he had gone through, and that sure as fuck wasn’t going to change any time soon.

[crabussy]

just musing and this isn’t directed at any person or fandom (cotl I love you!) but I do find it kind of odd. as someone who got out of what was probably a cult/on the way to becoming one. that the idea of a cult is so often casually mentioned and turned into something funny. I do giggle at it but also holy shit does “let’s start a cult lol” give me whiplash sometimes. guess it’s similar to “let’s kill each other” which is also very funny BUT. please do stay safe and know the signs because real cults don’t announce that they’re cults. be careful have fun make silly jokes!