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shadowdianne · 2 days
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THE TIGGER MOVIE [2000]
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shadowdianne · 3 days
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hey writers! OneLook Thesaurus lets you find that word you can’t think of but can describe! go check it out!
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shadowdianne · 4 days
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shadowdianne · 9 days
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Plaintext from the video: Please do not type out your DNIs like this. This kind of censorship is inaccessible to those with screen readers. Thank you.
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shadowdianne · 13 days
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ATTENTION TUMBLR
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CHOCOLATE GUY'S BIRTHDAY IS IDES OF MARCH
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shadowdianne · 14 days
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sometimes the best fanfics are written by middle aged adults with years of writing experience who simply know how to craft a good story. but also sometimes the best fanfics are written by a sixteen year old girl with something deeply wrong with her
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shadowdianne · 14 days
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The Ides Of March
Conservation status: Least Concern
Classification: Non-native, non-invasive
This meme population has persisted in the pre-internet ecosystem since 44 BC, but for over a millennium the meme remained at very low population levels. Introduction to the theater habitats of England in approximately 1599 by an early meme ecologist (also notable for the introduction of such memes as Damned Spot and To Be Or Not To Be) caused a population boom that has led to the continued stable population of Ides of March despite the extinction or near extinction of the Ides of other months and all known Nones and Kalends.
The Ides Of March, like many other calendar memes such as April 25th (The Perfect Date), Thursday The 20th, and It's October 3rd, has a life cycle that can confuse amateur memeologists. These memes benefit greatly from the presence of scheduled posts in the ecosystem, appearing absent until their highly specific time, when the memes all bloom simultaneously and dominate the dashes of many users.
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shadowdianne · 15 days
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this is what i mean when i type 👀 btw
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shadowdianne · 15 days
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It already has a couple of years under its belt 😂 I really rec the game if you are videogame inclined -albeit I took its canon and threw it out of the window so sadly no lesbian relationship for Emily there- but the worldbuilding is exquisite and so fun to play with as well. Thanks for the read W 💕
Vow (I will follow, no matter what) [Dishonored 2]
There is something called canon but since canon is stupid I’m not even going to bother with it.
Facts about the game. Yes, I know Emily sort of got her powers the very same day they reached Karnaca but, allow me.
Also, since I’m talking about this: There is this very cool art that should be seen and shared ad infinitum.
Well, enough Xd Dunno who will end up reading this but let’s get on with it; shall we?
@niki-frost Thing has been done! It’s basically 6am so I’ll come back later for a proper editing. But here it is! ^^
The scent of saltpeter assaulted her senses as she opened her eyes and, for a second, Alexi felt disoriented while she blinked owlishly; the rocking sensation she vaguely remembered that had followed her once she had finally closed her eyes a few hours ago still echoing throughout her body. Wincing as the vague shapes of thrown-away wood crates that stunk of rotting whale meat begun to grow more prominent through the corner of her eyes, she found herself staring at the ceiling of what she now recognized as a boat.  
The dreadful whale. The name floated inside her head, the letters colored in faded white, reddish at the corners due to badly washed blood and she couldn’t help herself as she felt a shudder running through her body; cold sticking to the sweat that had coated the loose tank top she wore. Despite the fairly flimsy material, she still felt its weight against her muscles and she bite down on her bottom lip while her right hand dipped beneath the sheets that covered her, the slowly healing scar that awaited on her torso still tender and warmer than the rest of her body.
Drawing slow, lazy lines around the jaded borders of the scar, she couldn’t do anything but shiver a second time as the images that had plagued her dreams ever since Dunwall had been left behind; images of death, blood and the mixed scent of gunpowder and whale’s oil. The same one that, with its eerily blue glow, powered the belly of the ship she was currently in. Not that she had been too keen on going there ever since they both had embarked. No, that had been something Emily had done; her eyes just as dark as the thoughts she could see peering through them every time she thought Alexi wasn’t looking.
Emily. The name made her crane her neck at her left; at where Emily had still been studying Karnaca’s maps when she had finally kissed her on her temple, asking her to try to fall asleep. A wish she knew wouldn’t be headed. It wasn’t, she admitted to herself while moving her hand away from the scar, letting the fabric of the tank top cover it once more, like she could blame her.
The other woman was giving her back at her, her form a blurred figure in the darkness that covered the room, but Alexi was able to listen to the sound of her breathing reaching towards her through the distance that separated them. A soft snoring that she had teased the Empress with endlessly the times they both had allowed themselves to lounge in bed; early meetings and Alexi’s own shifts be damned. Emily had always feigned to be appalled by how Alexi impersonated her, the pretended snoring always dissolving into a fit of laughter when the dark-haired woman started to tickle her. Now, as the former Captain of the Guard eyed the sleeping Empress, she couldn’t stop the sad smile that curved her lips.
If either of them had known how the Anniversary would play out…
Shaking her head, Alexi took a gulp of air, the saltpeter’s scent still pungent and seeming to grow stronger by the second. There was no point on thinking on what they both would have done. Neither of them had that privilege, not anymore.
And that was what maybe scared her more; she had spent the majority of her young and then adult life knowing fully well that she had been prepared to all sorts of situations in order to defend the live of the woman that laid in front of her. Not having the resources, or the answers, to do it scared her more than anything. Pressing her lips into a thin line, she considered moving closer to Emily; hug her and let sleep win over her once more. At least until the weak light beams that would signal a new day would awaken them both.
Careful on not putting too much strain on her torso she scooped closer: closing the few inches that were between her and Emily in the narrow mattress Meagan had provided for them. The woman had not blinked twice when Alexi had grasped Emily’s hand as Dunwall’s shore disappeared into the fog the ship cut into like a knife, and, despite being weak and nauseous after needing to run from the people she had once considered friends, coworkers, with blood spilling over the rushed done bandage Emily had been able to create up Dunwall Tower, Alexi had felt a rush of gratitude cursing through her veins.
Gratitude at not even needing to put the mask Emily and she had become so adept at using whenever they were in the presence of others, others who didn’t know their secret. A secret that she suspected Corvo knew. Even if the man never said it.
Her thoughts about the silent man were interrupted, however, when she felt a cold droplet splashing against her forehead. Frowning and stopping her arm in midair, she rose it towards her skin, water coating the tips of her fingers once she looked at them.
With the stench of salt and rotten meat only growing thicker, Alexi looked up at the ceiling, halfway worried the leaks she had spied at the main quarters of the ship had somehow started to form in the tiny cabin she was in. Her eyes, however, widened, as she found herself staring at a vast expanse that seemed to stretch miles above her head; giant shapes of a darker indigo peppering what couldn’t be described as pitch darkness but something much more sinister.
Twisted shapes of what seemed to be ships rising from the now disappeared ceiling, Alexi swallowed down a scream as a giant, empty eye floated towards her. An eye that, as if underwater, twirled over itself before it got swallowed back by the writhing darkness that seemed about to suffocate the small cabin in where the walls themselves were already disappearing: replaced by jaded slabs of broken and onyx-like stones.
Clearing her throat, Alexi glanced at her side, at Emily’s still unmoving form. The sheets and the posture she was in obscured her face from her but Alexi was able to distinguish the tensioned muscles of her lover’s back, the way her posture looked as if it had changed. Fearful something had happened to her and momentarily deciding to forget the shoals that floated between yellowed sails, Alexi reached for the other woman, her fingers not even caressing Emily’s shoulder when she tried to speak.
“Em…”
Her voice halted as Emily’s silhouette disappeared in a plum of smoke, the almost liquid nature in where it floated away mesmerizing Alexi for a second before she lunged forward, her torso protesting and her legs getting tangled into the sheets. Arms digging into the quickly disappearing smoke, she called Emily’s name a second time, the panic tinting her vocal chords strumming through the darkness, echoes of it returning to her; distorted to the point of being unrecognizable.
Kicking the sheets away, Alexi rose to her feet, glancing around to what didn’t seem to be a cabin any longer but just an extension of the stone slabs. The sword she had been able to steal before embarking was nowhere to be seen, even if she could remember leaving it close to the bed; the fact that they were in the middle of the ocean not helping her feel safe. Growling and feeling dizziness starting to overtake her, as if she was still in the ship, waves caressing the hull, she gulped down a sob while she called for Emily a third time.
The voice that answered her was deeper than the Empress’, its tone dispassionate, cruel, and Alexi stumbled as a mirthless “Try again” rose from around her, seeping into her bones while she turned towards the missing walls.
There, standing taller than she was, sclera as dark as the expanse that rose above them both, a man awaited.
She had never been followed Faith closely. She, like many others that came from humble beginnings, didn’t buy on the Overseers tales of piety. But she had heard the tales of what Corvo had done during The Plague, she had seen the troubled eyes the man always sported whenever someone mentioned the mark on his hand. The same one Emily had started to cover after their first night on the ship; answers to where it had come from cagey, full of fear as she seemed to blink away from existence; tears dangling from her eyelashes, skin tender and raw.
She had played enough at Potterstead’s shores to have heard of those pieces of bone that sometimes floated towards the blood-soaked sand. The ones one wasn’t supposed to take home, the ones that granted images of grandeur as they slowly ate you from inside, turning you into a skeleton, a shadow, of what you once were. She had heard enough descriptions, enough tales she had liked to believe were just stories to keep children as well-behaved as possible.
And it was precisely because of this, because of the paintings she had seen displayed on some of the balls she had attended as Emily’s bodyguard, that she knew who the man was.
She could only thank her training for the way her legs didn’t tremble as she stood as tall as she was; peering into the dark eyes of the stranger, chin raised and hands turning into fists.
“Where is she?” She asked, and her voice echoed once more, as if coming from a well; as if the noise itself was being sucked by the mere presence of, who she knew, could only be the one who some prayed to; his cult as old as the bones over where Dunwall had been built.
The Outsider smirked, his body distorting before it gained definition once more.
“Not here.” He provided and Alexi knew she wasn’t going to get a clearer answer. She had heard whispers of course, of those who, ingesting the drug present on what they later on used to create the darts some members of the Guard used, were able to sense the presence of the being that now stood in front of her. She wondered if this wasn’t the case: if the food she had ingested earlier wasn’t doused off with some of the substance.
No point on wondering. If she had been brought to the Void she was just a pawn for the man in front of her.
“Why I’m here then?”
The man tilted his head to one side, the brown clothes he wore plain and unassuming. A contrast so powerful against his eyes that Alexi bite back a nervous chuckle. One that died on her lips the moment The Outsider spoke again.
“You weren’t supposed to survive.”
Hands rising towards her wound, Alexi fully expected to see them coated in blood. Yet, the scar was still closed when she felt the protuberance of the healing skin and she felt the bitter taste of wounded pride sliding down her throat as the man laughed. The sound of it felt like nails on her body; pulling from her insides and so she clutched her fingers against the tank top, pulling the material away from her as she waited.
Eventually, her curiosity slid through the darkness, effectively stopping the laughter.
“Why?”
The man hummed, crossing his arms in front of his chest and Alexi dragged out a shuddering breath as she felt the touch of something cold, slimy, at the back of her neck.
“You weren’t.” He replied, his voice not holding any hint if the fact disappointed him or not. “But Emily saved you, helped you. Almost got discovered as you slithered through the streets of what have been your home for years.”
Alexi said nothing, the images the words evoked enough for her to remain silent. She had told Emily more times than she was able to quantify that she was the one that needed to flee the city. That she needed to leave her behind. Emily wasn’t prone to crying, never had been, but her hot tears and the anger that had sharpened the angles of her face as she shook her face and kissed her, irate, had been more than an answer for her pleas.
“She is stubborn.” She found herself saying once the silence stretched and the man’s lips curved in a lopsided smirk, one that made Alexi think on the dark ichor whales exuded as they were being drained.
“Which makes this all much more interesting.” The Outsider pointed at his back, at where the expanse grew lighter for a moment, the shadow of a stone-made Emily blinking into existence. Face contorted in fear, the statue held her sword- Corvo’s sword- on her right as her left arm was pressed close to her chest, the shape she had seen on her hand prominent even from this distance: glowing gold. “I have granted her my gifts.” The man’s voice was fading, and Alexi focused on him once more, trying to commit every detail to memory. “I wonder, however, how your influence will affect her. Will there be chaos? Or order?”
The last consonant cluster reached Alexi just as the man’s figure disappeared, turned into the same dust Emily had left behind. Sight already darkening once more, Alexi grabbed into the slabs, pain shooting up her arms as she fell to her knees, her wound throbbing, as she fought to keep on breathing.
“Alexi? Alexi!”
She recognized the voice that reached through her, Emily’s worried face the first thing she saw as she blinked back into consciousness. No great expanse around her, no creatures floating on their own blood, Alexi realized she was clawing at her midsection, the burning sensation still present and haunting. The cabin was still dark but the light was grey, showing the first signs of the upcoming morning, the kind of one Alexi was ready to welcome with open arms.
“Emily.”
Her voice was faint, her throat protesting as she swallowed, and she felt parched when she licked her bottom lip: her tongue clumsy against her teeth. When she zeroed on Emily again the worry on the other woman’s eyes had transformed into cautiousness, pupils trembling as the Empress gaze roamed her limbs, stopping at her hands. Almost as if she was expecting…
Alexi let out a broken sound, one that she wasn’t even sure if it was a sob or a chuckle. Shaking her head, she rose both of her hands, the effort that took making her feel dizzy once more while the other woman moved back, kneeling on the mattress as Alexis propped up against the headboard of it.
“I’ve seen him.” Her confirmation didn’t dissipate Emily’s obvious worry and she found herself sitting straighter, mid-prepared to stand. “The…”
She halted. There was no point on spaying his name. They both knew who she was referring to.
Emily’s own hands trembled on her lap, the cloth she had started to wear around her wrist and left hand askew as she picked on her fingers, playing with them in that nervous tick Alexi always told her was horrible for politics. Moving forward and grasping the hands, caressing the back of the cloth with one thumb, Alexi parted her lips; ready to try again.
“He told me you have been gifted.”
Emily didn’t deny it, but her eyes turned troubled and Alexi felt the prickle of fear growing at the back of her skull once more. Fear for what the conversation could have been like for the Empress to be so doubtful, so fragile.
“I’m not sure if I will…” The woman’s melodic accent stopped as she did, the sound reaching Alexi as she glanced down, at the faint black lines she was able to see.
“You should.” She found herself saying and she wondered if this was what the Outsider had said about her; about her changing what seemed to be  a mere game for the man. Shaking her head, she grasped Emily’s left hand tighter, letting the other fall free from her grasp. Nodding reassuringly, Alexi tried to smile.
With the Outsider’s help they could have a chance. However tiny it was. And Emily would have her at her side. She would take care of what it would need to be taken care of. Be that a killer or the Outsider himself.
“He gave you this.” She said, softly, and Emily nodded at the words. A sight Alexi felt drunk from. Fear dissipating, she tried once more. “He has given you his mark. Using it won’t…”
She didn’t use the verb she knew both of them were thinking: corrupt you.
It wasn’t one she wanted to even think about. And so, she plowed through.
“He didn’t give me his mark though, he also told me I should be dead.” That escaped her mouth in one single breath and she found herself being yanked away from the bed as Emily moved backwards, their hands still intertwined.
“He what?”
Nodding, Alexi moved her hand up Emily’s forearm, noticing the way the fabric of the long-sleeve blouse the woman wore bunched against her clammy fingers.
“He told me I should have died.”
It was quieter this time and Alexi sighed deeply as Emily pulled her closer, freeing herself from her grasp and rising her marked hand up to her cheek, the signet ring gleaming into the dim light.
“It doesn’t matter.” She begun, and Alexi wanted to laugh. Only Emily would deny the word of an otherworldly being after all. “You are alive. You…”
The two of them glanced at where the top covered Alexi’s wound and, almost reverently, Emily began to move the fabric up, muscles and tender skin jumping to her touch before Alexi was able to repress her reaction.
She couldn’t swallow down a curse as Emily did the same in front of her however; where an angry scar had been a few hours ago the faded color of a completely healed skin welcomed them both now. The line of where the sword had dug into her insides completely was healed and just a shade darker than the rest of her body. As if it had been done years ago; as if it hadn’t been her almost demise.
“Maybe you have been gifted after all.” The murmur made Alexi look back up towards Emily’s face, tears welling up her eyes.
“I can’t…”
Her response died down as Emily closed her eyes and shivered, sobs so soft they almost went unnoticed, wrecking through her.
Sneaking her left hand towards the dark-haired woman’s back, Alexi pulled her closer, the distance minute enough so she could feel her body, no shadow, no trick, on the way she felt the other woman’s hiccupped breathing.
“I’m sorry.” She whispered, and Alexi’s heart stuttered. “I just, what if I wouldn’t have tried to pry the door open? What if…”
“I couldn’t die before I knew you were safe.”
The words left her mouth before Alexi was even fully aware of them, but she knew they rang true when Emily nibbled at her lip, eyes opening once more as she pressed her forehead against her.
“I still won’t.”
It was a heavy promise, the kind of one that shouldn’t be said but Alexi felt confident on it; on what it entailed. Outsider’s help or not.
Blindly reaching for Emily’s lips, Alexi dropped a peck on them; a vow made.
A vow she would fight against the Outsider for, a vow she would fulfill.
“I won’t leave.”
And she felt the words thrumming as Emily nodded, craning her neck and kissing her back. Fully.
She would stay. Right where she was. For Emily. For them.
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shadowdianne · 15 days
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i know i’m cute but you can remind me
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shadowdianne · 15 days
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We are like fine wine, we get better nerdier as we age :p
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when all of this shit is long gone... this is going to happen. @shadowdianne can't wait to play together and probably write because we all know what's going to happen.
miss you and love you 🥰
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shadowdianne · 16 days
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Ei meus,
Gonna share some stories of my people; Galizan people, and about our language: Galego. Experiences of violent spanish opression we had to face. A big part of our modern literature relies on preserving and giving a voice to the past, since for a long time our language and beautiful traditions "survived" by pure will with little to none access to writing. So did our experiences as one of the very mistreated nations forced within the Spanish state to this day.
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“I am a donkey. I don't know how to talk”
"The teacher made some cardboard for them kids who spoke in galego. She'd put on them these big donkey ears, along with a sign sticked to them backs with «I am a donkey. I don't know how to talk» (in Spanish) written down.
She (the teacher) did this several times to a friend of mine, and also used to beat her up. I just can't forget about it, my child, for it was so cruel. I didn't even dare to talk about what was going on at school back at home. It was too rough”.
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“He answered in galego in a spontaneous way. It didn't matter the teacher used to say he had this preference for that student with such an exemplary behavior, he got brutally beaten up. Hit him nonstop with a vimbio stick until red marks showed up on his skin all over the ears and face. The kid couldn't even understand why he got beaten up like that just for answering in galego. I mean, how would anyone understand such thing while being 10 y/o?"
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“What are you speaking? you're not making any sense”
''The nun heard me speaking in galego, she came to me, said that she couldn't understand what I was saying and punished me on my knees at the "hard cement" school yard (a granulated hard texture) in front of all my classmates"
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“I am a donkey”
"Back at school, when I was very little, there was a kid who didn't know Spanish. They hanged on his back a sign saying he was a donkey"
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“Castillian chair” or “Spanish (from Spain) chair”
"Tied up to a chair for speaking galego at school. Locked down in the classroom closet because of saying words in the «forbidden tongue». On the knees on chickpeas because you didn't answer the teacher's question in spanish. The brutality against the galizan youth through generations left deep scars we all still suffering from with no care nor reparations"
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“I'm going to wash your mouth with soap”
"At school the insults, mistreatment and threats for speaking galego made us become self-conscious and ashamed. It stopped us from expressing ourselves the way we were"
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“I will not speak gallego” (Galego in Spanish)
"Everything you spoke a word in galego, they made you write down 1.000, 5.000 and even 10.000 times: «I will not speak gallego»
This was very common through all XX.
Still, last "known" case happened in the year 2002. Two little kids were forced to write “I will not speak gallego at class” 200 times.
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"There was this punishment for speaking galego, you had to press a coin with the tip of your nose against the wall for hours. If the coin ever fell, their aggressions increased eachtime... These punishments came with the chants
«The gallego is for hillbillies/pagans/savages. You must speak the language of the Angels and God's Empire».
Another case, shared by Alfonso Eiré, teachers charged against a student at the Seminario de Lugo, because he refused to stop speaking in galego after several "warnings" and threats.
"[…] O. P Rancaño didn't let him finish, the professor punched him on the head making him fall to the ground. When the student tried to stand back up, he kicked him on the back and ass "Puskas" style, and immediately stated that he would remain on his knees through the whole basketball game, in the middle of the school yard.
Also the P.E teacher who was around, stated another (very popular) punishment on top of it: he had to press a coin against a column with his nose. Everytime it fell, he'd hit him in the back of the head (na caluga) provoking the kid to scratch his nose against the stone over and over".
Just a few stories, recopilated in the book of Carlos Callón "O libro negro da lingua Galega"
"Five centuries of keeping the galician language quiet"
People keep silencing, erasing and apropiating our culture and language to this day. Spain keeps denying our right to self determination and exploiting the land from the inside, fascist, imperialism propaganda everywhere. For them, we are the "completely assimilated" ones. Yet we keep being mistreated in many ways, especially if we proudly commit to our own national identity which, for some reason, they take as a personal threat.
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"ONLY IN SPANISH. #GaliciansHillbillies. #HailMadrid " 18 of July, 2023.
For all those who refuse to accept this keeps happening, or that it even happened.
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shadowdianne · 16 days
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Auto reblogging myself (and it's @carsonnieve ' s fault)
Vow (I will follow, no matter what) [Dishonored 2]
There is something called canon but since canon is stupid I’m not even going to bother with it.
Facts about the game. Yes, I know Emily sort of got her powers the very same day they reached Karnaca but, allow me.
Also, since I’m talking about this: There is this very cool art that should be seen and shared ad infinitum.
Well, enough Xd Dunno who will end up reading this but let’s get on with it; shall we?
@niki-frost Thing has been done! It’s basically 6am so I’ll come back later for a proper editing. But here it is! ^^
The scent of saltpeter assaulted her senses as she opened her eyes and, for a second, Alexi felt disoriented while she blinked owlishly; the rocking sensation she vaguely remembered that had followed her once she had finally closed her eyes a few hours ago still echoing throughout her body. Wincing as the vague shapes of thrown-away wood crates that stunk of rotting whale meat begun to grow more prominent through the corner of her eyes, she found herself staring at the ceiling of what she now recognized as a boat.  
The dreadful whale. The name floated inside her head, the letters colored in faded white, reddish at the corners due to badly washed blood and she couldn’t help herself as she felt a shudder running through her body; cold sticking to the sweat that had coated the loose tank top she wore. Despite the fairly flimsy material, she still felt its weight against her muscles and she bite down on her bottom lip while her right hand dipped beneath the sheets that covered her, the slowly healing scar that awaited on her torso still tender and warmer than the rest of her body.
Drawing slow, lazy lines around the jaded borders of the scar, she couldn’t do anything but shiver a second time as the images that had plagued her dreams ever since Dunwall had been left behind; images of death, blood and the mixed scent of gunpowder and whale’s oil. The same one that, with its eerily blue glow, powered the belly of the ship she was currently in. Not that she had been too keen on going there ever since they both had embarked. No, that had been something Emily had done; her eyes just as dark as the thoughts she could see peering through them every time she thought Alexi wasn’t looking.
Emily. The name made her crane her neck at her left; at where Emily had still been studying Karnaca’s maps when she had finally kissed her on her temple, asking her to try to fall asleep. A wish she knew wouldn’t be headed. It wasn’t, she admitted to herself while moving her hand away from the scar, letting the fabric of the tank top cover it once more, like she could blame her.
The other woman was giving her back at her, her form a blurred figure in the darkness that covered the room, but Alexi was able to listen to the sound of her breathing reaching towards her through the distance that separated them. A soft snoring that she had teased the Empress with endlessly the times they both had allowed themselves to lounge in bed; early meetings and Alexi’s own shifts be damned. Emily had always feigned to be appalled by how Alexi impersonated her, the pretended snoring always dissolving into a fit of laughter when the dark-haired woman started to tickle her. Now, as the former Captain of the Guard eyed the sleeping Empress, she couldn’t stop the sad smile that curved her lips.
If either of them had known how the Anniversary would play out…
Shaking her head, Alexi took a gulp of air, the saltpeter’s scent still pungent and seeming to grow stronger by the second. There was no point on thinking on what they both would have done. Neither of them had that privilege, not anymore.
And that was what maybe scared her more; she had spent the majority of her young and then adult life knowing fully well that she had been prepared to all sorts of situations in order to defend the live of the woman that laid in front of her. Not having the resources, or the answers, to do it scared her more than anything. Pressing her lips into a thin line, she considered moving closer to Emily; hug her and let sleep win over her once more. At least until the weak light beams that would signal a new day would awaken them both.
Careful on not putting too much strain on her torso she scooped closer: closing the few inches that were between her and Emily in the narrow mattress Meagan had provided for them. The woman had not blinked twice when Alexi had grasped Emily’s hand as Dunwall’s shore disappeared into the fog the ship cut into like a knife, and, despite being weak and nauseous after needing to run from the people she had once considered friends, coworkers, with blood spilling over the rushed done bandage Emily had been able to create up Dunwall Tower, Alexi had felt a rush of gratitude cursing through her veins.
Gratitude at not even needing to put the mask Emily and she had become so adept at using whenever they were in the presence of others, others who didn’t know their secret. A secret that she suspected Corvo knew. Even if the man never said it.
Her thoughts about the silent man were interrupted, however, when she felt a cold droplet splashing against her forehead. Frowning and stopping her arm in midair, she rose it towards her skin, water coating the tips of her fingers once she looked at them.
With the stench of salt and rotten meat only growing thicker, Alexi looked up at the ceiling, halfway worried the leaks she had spied at the main quarters of the ship had somehow started to form in the tiny cabin she was in. Her eyes, however, widened, as she found herself staring at a vast expanse that seemed to stretch miles above her head; giant shapes of a darker indigo peppering what couldn’t be described as pitch darkness but something much more sinister.
Twisted shapes of what seemed to be ships rising from the now disappeared ceiling, Alexi swallowed down a scream as a giant, empty eye floated towards her. An eye that, as if underwater, twirled over itself before it got swallowed back by the writhing darkness that seemed about to suffocate the small cabin in where the walls themselves were already disappearing: replaced by jaded slabs of broken and onyx-like stones.
Clearing her throat, Alexi glanced at her side, at Emily’s still unmoving form. The sheets and the posture she was in obscured her face from her but Alexi was able to distinguish the tensioned muscles of her lover’s back, the way her posture looked as if it had changed. Fearful something had happened to her and momentarily deciding to forget the shoals that floated between yellowed sails, Alexi reached for the other woman, her fingers not even caressing Emily’s shoulder when she tried to speak.
“Em…”
Her voice halted as Emily’s silhouette disappeared in a plum of smoke, the almost liquid nature in where it floated away mesmerizing Alexi for a second before she lunged forward, her torso protesting and her legs getting tangled into the sheets. Arms digging into the quickly disappearing smoke, she called Emily’s name a second time, the panic tinting her vocal chords strumming through the darkness, echoes of it returning to her; distorted to the point of being unrecognizable.
Kicking the sheets away, Alexi rose to her feet, glancing around to what didn’t seem to be a cabin any longer but just an extension of the stone slabs. The sword she had been able to steal before embarking was nowhere to be seen, even if she could remember leaving it close to the bed; the fact that they were in the middle of the ocean not helping her feel safe. Growling and feeling dizziness starting to overtake her, as if she was still in the ship, waves caressing the hull, she gulped down a sob while she called for Emily a third time.
The voice that answered her was deeper than the Empress’, its tone dispassionate, cruel, and Alexi stumbled as a mirthless “Try again” rose from around her, seeping into her bones while she turned towards the missing walls.
There, standing taller than she was, sclera as dark as the expanse that rose above them both, a man awaited.
She had never been followed Faith closely. She, like many others that came from humble beginnings, didn’t buy on the Overseers tales of piety. But she had heard the tales of what Corvo had done during The Plague, she had seen the troubled eyes the man always sported whenever someone mentioned the mark on his hand. The same one Emily had started to cover after their first night on the ship; answers to where it had come from cagey, full of fear as she seemed to blink away from existence; tears dangling from her eyelashes, skin tender and raw.
She had played enough at Potterstead’s shores to have heard of those pieces of bone that sometimes floated towards the blood-soaked sand. The ones one wasn’t supposed to take home, the ones that granted images of grandeur as they slowly ate you from inside, turning you into a skeleton, a shadow, of what you once were. She had heard enough descriptions, enough tales she had liked to believe were just stories to keep children as well-behaved as possible.
And it was precisely because of this, because of the paintings she had seen displayed on some of the balls she had attended as Emily’s bodyguard, that she knew who the man was.
She could only thank her training for the way her legs didn’t tremble as she stood as tall as she was; peering into the dark eyes of the stranger, chin raised and hands turning into fists.
“Where is she?” She asked, and her voice echoed once more, as if coming from a well; as if the noise itself was being sucked by the mere presence of, who she knew, could only be the one who some prayed to; his cult as old as the bones over where Dunwall had been built.
The Outsider smirked, his body distorting before it gained definition once more.
“Not here.” He provided and Alexi knew she wasn’t going to get a clearer answer. She had heard whispers of course, of those who, ingesting the drug present on what they later on used to create the darts some members of the Guard used, were able to sense the presence of the being that now stood in front of her. She wondered if this wasn’t the case: if the food she had ingested earlier wasn’t doused off with some of the substance.
No point on wondering. If she had been brought to the Void she was just a pawn for the man in front of her.
“Why I’m here then?”
The man tilted his head to one side, the brown clothes he wore plain and unassuming. A contrast so powerful against his eyes that Alexi bite back a nervous chuckle. One that died on her lips the moment The Outsider spoke again.
“You weren’t supposed to survive.”
Hands rising towards her wound, Alexi fully expected to see them coated in blood. Yet, the scar was still closed when she felt the protuberance of the healing skin and she felt the bitter taste of wounded pride sliding down her throat as the man laughed. The sound of it felt like nails on her body; pulling from her insides and so she clutched her fingers against the tank top, pulling the material away from her as she waited.
Eventually, her curiosity slid through the darkness, effectively stopping the laughter.
“Why?”
The man hummed, crossing his arms in front of his chest and Alexi dragged out a shuddering breath as she felt the touch of something cold, slimy, at the back of her neck.
“You weren’t.” He replied, his voice not holding any hint if the fact disappointed him or not. “But Emily saved you, helped you. Almost got discovered as you slithered through the streets of what have been your home for years.”
Alexi said nothing, the images the words evoked enough for her to remain silent. She had told Emily more times than she was able to quantify that she was the one that needed to flee the city. That she needed to leave her behind. Emily wasn’t prone to crying, never had been, but her hot tears and the anger that had sharpened the angles of her face as she shook her face and kissed her, irate, had been more than an answer for her pleas.
“She is stubborn.” She found herself saying once the silence stretched and the man’s lips curved in a lopsided smirk, one that made Alexi think on the dark ichor whales exuded as they were being drained.
“Which makes this all much more interesting.” The Outsider pointed at his back, at where the expanse grew lighter for a moment, the shadow of a stone-made Emily blinking into existence. Face contorted in fear, the statue held her sword- Corvo’s sword- on her right as her left arm was pressed close to her chest, the shape she had seen on her hand prominent even from this distance: glowing gold. “I have granted her my gifts.” The man’s voice was fading, and Alexi focused on him once more, trying to commit every detail to memory. “I wonder, however, how your influence will affect her. Will there be chaos? Or order?”
The last consonant cluster reached Alexi just as the man’s figure disappeared, turned into the same dust Emily had left behind. Sight already darkening once more, Alexi grabbed into the slabs, pain shooting up her arms as she fell to her knees, her wound throbbing, as she fought to keep on breathing.
“Alexi? Alexi!”
She recognized the voice that reached through her, Emily’s worried face the first thing she saw as she blinked back into consciousness. No great expanse around her, no creatures floating on their own blood, Alexi realized she was clawing at her midsection, the burning sensation still present and haunting. The cabin was still dark but the light was grey, showing the first signs of the upcoming morning, the kind of one Alexi was ready to welcome with open arms.
“Emily.”
Her voice was faint, her throat protesting as she swallowed, and she felt parched when she licked her bottom lip: her tongue clumsy against her teeth. When she zeroed on Emily again the worry on the other woman’s eyes had transformed into cautiousness, pupils trembling as the Empress gaze roamed her limbs, stopping at her hands. Almost as if she was expecting…
Alexi let out a broken sound, one that she wasn’t even sure if it was a sob or a chuckle. Shaking her head, she rose both of her hands, the effort that took making her feel dizzy once more while the other woman moved back, kneeling on the mattress as Alexis propped up against the headboard of it.
“I’ve seen him.” Her confirmation didn’t dissipate Emily’s obvious worry and she found herself sitting straighter, mid-prepared to stand. “The…”
She halted. There was no point on spaying his name. They both knew who she was referring to.
Emily’s own hands trembled on her lap, the cloth she had started to wear around her wrist and left hand askew as she picked on her fingers, playing with them in that nervous tick Alexi always told her was horrible for politics. Moving forward and grasping the hands, caressing the back of the cloth with one thumb, Alexi parted her lips; ready to try again.
“He told me you have been gifted.”
Emily didn’t deny it, but her eyes turned troubled and Alexi felt the prickle of fear growing at the back of her skull once more. Fear for what the conversation could have been like for the Empress to be so doubtful, so fragile.
“I’m not sure if I will…” The woman’s melodic accent stopped as she did, the sound reaching Alexi as she glanced down, at the faint black lines she was able to see.
“You should.” She found herself saying and she wondered if this was what the Outsider had said about her; about her changing what seemed to be  a mere game for the man. Shaking her head, she grasped Emily’s left hand tighter, letting the other fall free from her grasp. Nodding reassuringly, Alexi tried to smile.
With the Outsider’s help they could have a chance. However tiny it was. And Emily would have her at her side. She would take care of what it would need to be taken care of. Be that a killer or the Outsider himself.
“He gave you this.” She said, softly, and Emily nodded at the words. A sight Alexi felt drunk from. Fear dissipating, she tried once more. “He has given you his mark. Using it won’t…”
She didn’t use the verb she knew both of them were thinking: corrupt you.
It wasn’t one she wanted to even think about. And so, she plowed through.
“He didn’t give me his mark though, he also told me I should be dead.” That escaped her mouth in one single breath and she found herself being yanked away from the bed as Emily moved backwards, their hands still intertwined.
“He what?”
Nodding, Alexi moved her hand up Emily’s forearm, noticing the way the fabric of the long-sleeve blouse the woman wore bunched against her clammy fingers.
“He told me I should have died.”
It was quieter this time and Alexi sighed deeply as Emily pulled her closer, freeing herself from her grasp and rising her marked hand up to her cheek, the signet ring gleaming into the dim light.
“It doesn’t matter.” She begun, and Alexi wanted to laugh. Only Emily would deny the word of an otherworldly being after all. “You are alive. You…”
The two of them glanced at where the top covered Alexi’s wound and, almost reverently, Emily began to move the fabric up, muscles and tender skin jumping to her touch before Alexi was able to repress her reaction.
She couldn’t swallow down a curse as Emily did the same in front of her however; where an angry scar had been a few hours ago the faded color of a completely healed skin welcomed them both now. The line of where the sword had dug into her insides completely was healed and just a shade darker than the rest of her body. As if it had been done years ago; as if it hadn’t been her almost demise.
“Maybe you have been gifted after all.” The murmur made Alexi look back up towards Emily’s face, tears welling up her eyes.
“I can’t…”
Her response died down as Emily closed her eyes and shivered, sobs so soft they almost went unnoticed, wrecking through her.
Sneaking her left hand towards the dark-haired woman’s back, Alexi pulled her closer, the distance minute enough so she could feel her body, no shadow, no trick, on the way she felt the other woman’s hiccupped breathing.
“I’m sorry.” She whispered, and Alexi’s heart stuttered. “I just, what if I wouldn’t have tried to pry the door open? What if…”
“I couldn’t die before I knew you were safe.”
The words left her mouth before Alexi was even fully aware of them, but she knew they rang true when Emily nibbled at her lip, eyes opening once more as she pressed her forehead against her.
“I still won’t.”
It was a heavy promise, the kind of one that shouldn’t be said but Alexi felt confident on it; on what it entailed. Outsider’s help or not.
Blindly reaching for Emily’s lips, Alexi dropped a peck on them; a vow made.
A vow she would fight against the Outsider for, a vow she would fulfill.
“I won’t leave.”
And she felt the words thrumming as Emily nodded, craning her neck and kissing her back. Fully.
She would stay. Right where she was. For Emily. For them.
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shadowdianne · 16 days
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do you ever not write for so long that you’re almost afraid to? like what if I’m dumb now
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shadowdianne · 16 days
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shadowdianne · 16 days
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hello beloveds ☺️
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shadowdianne · 17 days
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