#just where demand is clearly highest....

[tastesousweet]

⭒ the girl with the tattoo (vi) - pt 1 pt 2 p3 p4 p5

matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader

summary : y/n can only deflect her crush on matt for so long

warnings : smut, banter/cuteness, angst at the end

mickey speaks : sooooooo. yeah. enjoy! (also i imagine lucas as luka sabbat)

THIS IS PART SIX GO READ THE OTHERS FIRST PLS

“I’M kind of hungry though,” you groan as you stand in front of your open and very bare (besides two scrawny carrots and a few of andrea’s energy drinks) fridge, pouted mouth and limp wrist holding your phone to your ear.

“i’m sure you are, you always seem to be fucking hungry,” matt’s attitude laces into his comment’s comedic undertone.

“don’t be mean,” you close the fridge and begin to look through the many cabinets in your kitchen that are somehow just as bare. “how the fuck are we completely out of food?!”

“ask your fuckin- move out of the way! go! now, move!” matt’s voice cuts into a rage as his attention directs to the cars around him, who he’d debate the validity of their drivers licenses.

his loudness has you pulling your phone away from your ear to let him finish, then bring it back towards you, “hey, let’s use our inside voices when on the phone with someone…” you smile at your own joke as you dig through a never ending junk drawer for a pen.

“hmm let’s go to the grocery store more often so we’re not having our sneaky link take us to eat,” his comeback is as quick as his lane switching.

“well you sure know how to make a girl feel special,” your sarcasm spews as you begin to write out a list for a much needed grocery trip with andrea tomorrow.

“what are you hungry for?” he speaks over the chimes of his turn signal.

“i don’t know,” you mumble clearly not too focused on figuring out what you’d like to eat.

“what’re you doing right now?” he asks.

“nothing,” you say while biting your inner cheek trying to remember the specific brand of orange juice that andrea recently discovered she prefers.

“okay, i’m pulling up in like five, figure out where you wanna go.”

“please?” you question where his manners are among the frequent demands he throws at you.

“mhm, that too.” he half-asses an agreement, “bye.”

you drop your pen and respond with a quick ‘bye’ before hanging up the phone and tucking it into your purse along with your keys.

౨ৎ

matt's car smells of warm citrus and eucalyptus, in contrast to the coolness of the air he currently has blowing. you glance over to him once you're settled into the leather passenger seat, giving you a view of his soft side profile and torso covered with one of his many black hoodies (as if california temperatures weren’t currently at their highest) that fit his figure well, as he focuses on adjusting his hair in the pull down mirror.

the only light source in the car comes in the soft, off-white lighting synced to the mirror, that shines just enough for you to see his full smirk and head shake when you joke, “got someone to look good for?”

he mutters a light, “barely,” before placing the mirror back against the ceiling and changing gears smoothly. “your babysitter didn’t question you?”

you shake your head and begin to buckle your seatbelt, “no, she’s out with some coworkers for a drink. what about yours?”

“didn’t even notice i left.” he shrugs then gestures to the navigation screen that’s now dimly lit, “where do you wanna eat?” your silence speaks volumes to him, “how'd i just know you'd pull this shit? i told you to have it figured out by the time you got in the car!” he groans and looks over to you.

you try to hide a smile due to his irritance, “okay, and what if i just don’t know, matt?!” your hands turn and face the ceiling to show the genuine unsureness of your appetite.

“then, you must not be that hungry,” he shrugs.

you redirect your eyes from him to the road in front of you, “i miss when you were quietly mean, now you’re all obnoxious and loud about it.”

a smirk finds its way to matt's face as he continuously looks from you to the road until you finally look back over to him. “sorry, that was also mean. i don’t hate when you talk, even though you’re rude as fuck.”

matt laughs off the apology he wasn't even seeking from you, “jesus, i wasn't gonna cry over it.”

your stomach is weeping and begging for you to pick a place to eat at this point causing you to lean your head against the window (though you find the vibrations from the motor and awkward dips from the road make the position more uncomfortable than anything) and eye the blurs of brightly lit, primary colored signs. it becomes a little dizzying but eventually slows as matt eases on the brakes.

during the brief pause you take time recognize your surroundings more and just as matt starts to go through the intersection, a breath gets caught in your throat when you spot a small local store you remember going to with remi for lunch a few months back, “wait!”

matt slams on his brakes with a sudden look of fear in his eyes, rocking the both of you far forward then slamming you back into the seats. his face turns to frustration when you laugh a little and ask, “can we stop at that bodega right there?” while pointing out the window.

he raises a hand in view of his back windshield to apologize to the person behind him as he speeds off again and scolds you, "do you have any fucking etiquette?"

"oh wow, that’s a big word for you, matt!" you celebrate. he then takes a sharp turn into the rural parking lot, making you grip the side door as you jump along with the car.

you watch as he easily parks the car and turns off the ignition with a huff, "i doubt some convenience store snacks are gonna hold you over, but whatever."

"never doubt a small local market, this place has a bomb ass hole-in-the-wall sandwich shop and you wouldn’t even know." you defend while opening the car door.

౨ৎ

you lead matt inside while he unashamedly stares at how your hips move as you walk- your skin naturally exposed due to your low waisted lounge pants and small tank top (which makes him want to do nothing more than squeeze, lick, and kiss the area).

you greet the bored cashier the way you tend to greet anyone: as if you know them, and make your way to the back side of the store, the smell of toasted bread gaining potence in the air as you approach.

matt continues to follow as he glances around the very average looking store, with aisles of typical name-brand foods and drinks.

you stop near a bulletin board with a makeshift menu and read over each option. when matt gets closer to you, you feel the need to explain yourself as if it wasn't clear enough, "'m tryin' to figure out what i want."

he only replies with an "mhm," as he focuses on options for himself.

you both take turns separately ordering and paying for food (of course you had to tease him for making it seem as though you being hungry was such a hassle) and find a small table to sit at.

you fiddle with the table caddy, "watch. this will be the best sandwich of your life."

matt sits opposite of you, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed, "better be. you had me driving crazy to get to this place."

"i said i was sorry about that!" you dramatically remind him of the apology you gave him when you two initally walked up to the store.

“order for y/n?” the same man (with a heavy east coast accent) you ordered from peeks his head out.

you send matt a smile before getting up and walking over to the window, “thank you so much, it smells amazing.” you compliment.

“‘course and, uh, we’ve got that second order ready as well if you want to take it over,” he offers.

“yeah, i’ll go ahead and take it.” you take the wrapped and acronym-labeled sandwiches in each hand, thanking him once more before beginning to walk over to the table.

“oh how sweet are you? bringin’ my sandwich to me and shit,” matt chuckles as he runs his tongue over his teeth casually.

“a ‘thank you’ would’ve been more than enough,” you take your seat again. the shuffles of wax paper wrapping and distant chimes of the bell near the entrance is the only noise surrounding both of you for your first few bites.

you pause eating to ask, “how’s your sandwich?” you direct your sandwich towards him as both of your hands are occupied in holding said sandwich.

he covers his mouth with a fist as he finishes chewing, nodding his head to give away his answer. he’s not really one to eat for flavor alone so his answer is mediocre, “yeah, it’s good. yours?” he questions while going in for another bite.

“so amazing,” you draw out and jokingly moan into your next bite.

matt’s face scrunches and he can’t wait until the food is out of his mouth to deliver his comment, “gross, just eat your food without all the effects.”

you put up your index finger so that you can swallow before replying, “you really have the nerve to say that through the shit ton of food in your mouth?”

he shrugs and gives a sarcastic smile with his cheeks bunched out and full of his sandwich.

you take a sip of your diet coke before asking, “‘kay, so what’d you do today?” you’re just generally curious and admittedly not the best at being quiet or reserved when around other people.

matt sighs, “you know…talking really takes away the point of this.”

“oh my god, answer the question. don’t be unfun, matt.”

“’m just tryin' to eat,” he laughs through his nose.

“okay, then i’ll go first but you still have to tell me about your day after,” you decide.

“fine,” matt uses a napkin to wipe his mouth a little.

“well, i woke up so fucking early today, i had to get to work by like 5:30 to start helping with an order of six cakes. luckily we prepped a lot the day before and carmen is like the best coworker to have to do that long shift with.”

“six cakes? for one order?”

“yeah, it was for a family reunion and they called about some dietary restrictions for certain cakes plus the different flavors- just shit to make our job harder. but love my job regardless, and the woman who picked them up looked so happy,” you take another sip of your drink, “but after that i went home and basically napped until you called.”

“this is the first thing you’re eating today?” he doesn’t care too much that you haven’t eaten today, rather uses it as an excuse to get you to continue eating so the you both can leave (or maybe this is just what he tells himself).

“i mean i ate some boiled eggs whenever i had down time at work, but yeah i guess.”

“and look at you, wasting your time yappin’ instead of eating. there’s truly no helping you,” he shakes his head slowly back and forth in faux disappointment.

you ignore him, “okay, your turn.” his eyebrows pinch and he takes a sip of his drink, telling you he won’t be answering if you don’t start to eat, “look! i’m eating,” you take a bite to prove yourself.

“right…uhh what did i do today?” he looks up in memory. “i tatted some guy’s face earlier, i guess that was a bit intense.”

“um, yeah that’s intense, what’d he get?!”

“the outline of peru above his cheekbone." matt circles the area on his own face, "it was actually really sentimental; he told this whole story about his mom immigrating here from peru.“

“that's so sweet. did he say why he wanted it on his face?”

matt shrugs, “he wanted to try somewhere he hasn’t before.”

you nod, “and was this your first face tat?”

“no, i’ve done a few before, just haven’t in a while.” matt leans back and scratches the back of his neck to stretch. “ever since i posted that pic of your tat i’ve been booked by all theses girls who want cartoon designs, now nick’s pissed i’m stealing his clientele since ‘it’s his specialty.’”

“well my hello kitty is precious so i can't blame them." you pause, "are you fucking these girls too?” you look at matt before you begin to giggle to yourself and take your final bite.

matt’s eyes widen and he lets a small laugh escape, “no, that kinda luck can only come so often. and how slutty would i be to hookup with all of my clients?” though he wouldn’t call you strictly a client anymore- but he doesn’t correct it since he’s unsure if the two of you are necessarily friends either.

“one: don’t hype yourself too much, two: there’s nothing wrong with being a slut, matt. you should embrace your nature.” you smile before gesturing to his last bit of sandwich and mocking, “catch up now, you’ve been doing all that talking and no eating! i'm starting to lose hope.”

౨ৎ

"matt, where the fuck are we?" you raise yourself up a little to look around. you’re parked in a large city center parking lot with few cars and dimming street lights.

“shhh, sit down.” he absentmindedly calms you, speaking in a low voice while typing on his phone. you lean back into your seat, bored enough that you opt to watching your hands rise and fall with your stomach as you breathe.

he continues tapping at the screen for the entirety of the next song, making you grow impatient and confused. is he expecting you to make the first move right now? did he bring you here to have sex? who the fuck is he texting?

you move yourself closer to him so that your elbows rest against the center console and hold your head up. "matt," you whisper.

he doesn't answer but you notice his eyebrows are furrowed and angled.

"matt," you repeat and guide your hand up his arm, firmly squeezing his shoulder.

"mm?" he looks over to you for a second, then out the windshield before his eyes fixate on his phone once more.

"what'd you bring me here for...?" your voice is laced with intentional seduction as your hand moves back down his arm to play with the slim silver bracelet hanging on the wrist of his occupied hand.

"y/n, hold on," somehow his voice is just as distracted as his eyes.

you pout, "can you, like, look at me?" you see him picking at the skin of his lip, only looking at you when your hair falls in front of his phone as you lean to press your lips to the hand you've been messing with.

he moves his hand to capture your bottom lip softly between his thumb and the side of his index finger, finally giving in with a small “yeah?”

before you get a word out a few taps hit matt’s window making both of you flinch and pull back. you’re so caught off guard and feel exposed in a way after having your face so close to matt’s lower half. you’re nervous as to why someone would randomly come to matt’s window, until matt willingly lowers it.

you move your head to the side to get a better view of the lanky man with deep caramel skin and arched dimples that pop when he speaks, “yooo, matt! what’s up?” they dap each other up through the open window.

“fucking finally,” matt sighs with a laugh.

he kisses his teeth, “look i got your shit right here. have some faith in me, brother.” he leans to grab a small bag from one of his cargo pant pockets as matt reaches for his sleek black wallet.

you try to keep yourself leveled and not ask a million questions about this whole predicament, but you’re feeling quite left out.

matt carelessly grabs the plastic bag from the guy while he continues to sift through his wallet with only one hand, before handing you the bag without even looking your way. once it’s in your hand you use the light of your phone to get a better look, noticing the unground weed in the bag. you scrunch your face and place it in your lap.

you don’t pick up on much of matt’s conversation until you’re brought up, “who’s your friend?” the guy leans further onto the car.

“no one you’d need to know,” matt shrugs, pulling out a few unscathed bills and handing them with a smile.

you squint your eyes at the insult to your existence he's implied calling you ‘no one,’ before reaching over matt with an extended hand, “hi, i’m y/n.”

he glances at matt, who’s shooting daggers into the side of your head with his eyes, then looks to you, “i’m lucas, nice to meet you.” his eyes and smile both very dopey.

“how’d you meet such a hush guy like matt?” you inquire and feel a smile forming as matt surprisingly allows you to continue this conversation.

“his brother nick does like all of my tattoos,” he pulls up his sleeve to show a collection of pieces in various styles. “next thing i know, i got three trusty customers!” he giggles and looks to matt who puts on an obvious fake smile. you turn your face to see him and feel yourself smile wider at his expense.

“yep…” matt replies.

you quickly turn back to lucas and look closer at his sleeve, “oh wow, nick is fucking talented.” matt fights from moving you back into your seat and driving off as fast as possible. “matt actually gave me one,” you lift yourself back into your seat, using matt’s thigh for support, and begin to move your shirt out of the way.

“hmm, right,” matt takes your shirt in his own hand to cover the spot once more, “we actually have somewhere to be like now.” he looks over to lucas and gives an impressively collected smile, “‘m sorry to cut it short, man. you know we gotta hang out soon.”

“for sure, i’ll have to text you," lucas nods, "and maybe i’ll see you around too, y/n. just stay pretty.” he points to you as he back away from the car. “get her home safe now, matthew.” he throws in the extra joke.

“uh huh, thanks for the smoke,” matt chuckles dryly and gives a bitter half-ass peace sign before rolling his window up. he looks over to you, with your legs sprawled in an awkward yet comfortable way and full smile on your flushed face, “fuck are you smilin’ about?”

“you brought me here for a fucking drug deal?!” you try to control the laugh in your throat.

“look you got your sandwich, i got my weed,”

“i don’t think those are com-” you mumble even though matt’s words never pause for you.

“we both were dragged somewhere, so it’s fair.” matt shrugs with pouted lips as he lifts the center console in search of the dope he’d just bought, “where’d you put it?” you then hold the bag up for him to see, but as he reaches for it you move back slightly. “you’re not funny, dude, give it.”

“come get it,” you look at the bag then over to matt’s unentertained face.

“y/n, that shit won’t work on me. we’re in my car and you don’t know the first thing about rolling.” he props his hand up expecting you to give up at this point. “stop playing.”

“why can’t you just play a little matt? you’re so worked up and mad most of the time,” your cheeks puff a little when you let out an annoyed breath.

“i wouldn’t say mad but,” matt’s eyes widen with the word in exaggeration but he knows you don’t actually want to debate over his mood so he recovers smoothly, moving his body to fully face you, “ alright, we can play, sweetheart.”

he leans closer, “how about about we play you give me my shit and then i’ll fuck you,” in reality the bag of weed is easily within snatching range, but the tension of coercing it out of you entertains matt more.

“that’s not a fun trade when you were gonna do that anyway,” the way your full lips move has matt itching to lay them against his own.

“no i wasn’t,” he whispers, and now that you’ve both now gravitated towards each other, practically at each other’s faces, you get a special view of his eyes and the way his cheeks pinch inward when he lies.

“really?”

he plays along, nodding while looking down in faux disappointment, though you can see him start to hide a giggle of some sort.

“damn. maybe i’ll have to take your phone next and get lucas to come back for me.” you sigh, and go to reach for his phone.

matt grabs your hand looks back to your devious face. “hell no, keep my friends off your roster.”

you purse your lips, “oh really? but you can do whatever you want with my-?” you’re cut off with a small kiss that grows as you reciprocate.

you’re too caught up in the proximity and heat to focus on matt’s hand that finds and takes the bag without fight. he pulls away (far too quickly) just to tease, “too easy.” he holds the bag up and stashes it in his side door. “and now you’ll have to wait until we get back to mine.”

౨ৎ

matt's beyond frustrated when he shows up to find his driveway lined with cars and general rowdiness that can be seen through the windows. you had some jokes at his expense to make as he drove off and away from his house to find the street you're currently parked on.

he's pretty silent until he eventually gets over himself due to his extreme horniness he's suppressed for longer than he expected when calling you. "well, 'm sorry my house is a bit occupied at the moment."

you face him, "no, it's fine." you unbuckle your seatbelt and move to hover over his face, placing a small kiss on his lips then pulling away, "right?"

matt raises his head to look at you, making you glance away from his eyes and down to his lips as you lick your own. and just as your tongue slips back into your mouth, matt is recapturing your lips in a needy kiss.

as the kiss deepens he takes a hold of the area where your head and neck split, holding any of your hair there with it. your tongue plays against his lips before he finally allows you to feel into his mouth a little.

you both kiss and play with each others' lips as he moves his hands to feel down your waist and tug on your waistband to urge you closer to him. you don’t listen though, instead greedily enjoying the slow movement of your lips.

matt pulls away at your disobedience and reclines his seat in one swift motion. you sigh to yourself at the loss of contact, still angled oddly over the center as you bite your bottom lip to mimic matt’s kiss.

he pats his lap and reaches for your arm, softly demanding, “c’mere.” with his physical encouragement you move your body to crawl onto him and settle easily in his lap. matt’s eyes never leave the place where your bodies meet as his hands squeeze at your hips and then your ass.

you lean down to kiss at his neck, causing your boobs to go into matt’s line of sight. he brings his hands up to give them a small squeeze before reaching into your tiny tank top to expose them fully.

you moan into his neck and lift yourself up to watch as matt swirls his tongue around your left nipple while caressing the right. “mmm,” you hum and encourage while your hands play with the hair at the nape of matt’s neck.

he lets go of one with a small pop, muttering “you’re so hot,” against the other. as your hips grind softly you can feel his dick, heavy and hard under you. he pauses his play, “you feel it, sweetheart, go ahead and do somethin’ about it.”

you moan softly and begin to grind against him. he continues to suck and fiddle with your nipples until they're sensitive and causing you to whine.

you then slowly adjust your tits back into place and crawl lower, watching your head of the wheel and watching your legs of the pedals. matt assumingly leans back and plays with the drawstring of his shorts while licking his lips, watching your every move. and finding it very fucking hot that you want to suck his dick so bad you’d sit on the rough, brushed carpet of his car.

you run your fingers up his thighs and beg with your eyes for matt to show himself to you. eventually, he purses his lips and begins to adjust his pants lower, relieving his member of anticipation.

you bite at your bottom lip subconsciously as you adjust yourself closer to him. matt keeps hold of the base, tapping himself against your closed mouth a few times, before you reveal your tongue to him. you run your mouth over him once before gathering your sticky saliva to spit softly on his tip. matt whines at the sensation and grows louder the second you take him fully into your mouth.

the way his eyebrows ruffle together and his mouth forms the most perfect ‘o’ shape is so breathtaking and drives you to continue working him in hopes that he only grows needier.

one of his hands finds the back of the headrest to grip while the other begins to move your hair for you into a harsh, makeshift ponytail. “mmm, fuck. keep goin’, baby.”

you allow all of him into your mouth, reaching the back of your throat before you pull off of him and begin to use your hand on his slick cock. “you like that?” you ask and you look so innocent and so genuinely intrigued at his answer that he can only answer in a groan. you kiss his tip in your own exchange of words with him without actually saying anything, then swirl your tongue around it as you bring him back into your wet mouth.

“yeah- just like that, mmm.” his voice is rough and strained a little as he guides your head continuously. your pace changes over the next few strokes, growing rapid and sloppier with time. matt's low moans and words of encouragement leave you feeling both desperate for his release and your own pleasure and fulfillment he'd give you afterwards.

without warning you, he takes hold of your head and forces himself fully in your mouth, unapologetically spilling his cum down your throat. once he's slumped and breathing heavily you pull off of him, a string of grotesque spit attaching you and his spent dick, and wipe your face with the back of your hand softly.

you force him to make room for you and sit up as you crawl back into his lap, the skin of your knees indented with the carpet's texture. "you're so fucking good," matt compliments in a daze while holding the bridge of his nose.

you kiss the corner of his open mouth and smirk, "too easy."

౨ৎ

"why does it keep biting me?!" chris yelps.

you and andrea never expected to own any kind of pet in recent years, due to both of your awkward schedules and mutual irresponsibility for your actions (finding it appropriate that you both learn to care for yourselves before an animal, no matter how tempting). but that was before you both found a tiny black kitten near a local bus stop that almost had you in tears.

you scooped him up easily and held him in your lap the entire drive home with andrea looking over and cooing at each red light she'd hit.

the entire day was spent googling, then bathing him, then googling if it was okay to use dish soap on a baby kitten, all while you both were clawed at and splashed the entire time.

but you and andrea have settled into cat motherhood well. recently you both went half on buying a cat tree (that is honestly way too big for your tiny living area) and decided to get your friends to help build it.

"he probably doesn't like you," nick suggests while twisting a screwdriver, legs sprawled on the floor.

"i'm sure he doesn't like anything with a name like figaro." chris deepens his voice when stating the cat's name and rolls his eyes.

"shut up, chris!" andrea calls from the kitchen.

"y/n, do you guys have any batteries?" erin asks as she opens the packaging of the cat toy she brought as a gift for figaro.

you smile at the ball of black fur at her side, clumsily punching the cardboard and plastic wrapping before nodding your head and placing your glass on the table, "yeah, which kind?"

"uh, triple a, three of them please."

you head to a closet down the hall to gather the batteries, fumbling with the top shelf a little. you don't hear when the bathroom door next to you opens and matt walks out, only recognizing when you hear his voice, "need some help?"

"no, thank you," you glance at him behind you and smile, giving a final stretch to reach the packaging. "see?" you show him the package in your hand proving he had no reason to even ask.

he smirks and stops you from closing the closet door just yet, "you look nice." you thank him and aren't surprised at what falls from his mouth next, "kinda need to paint with you soon."

"i'm sure you do," you almost laugh, due to both matt's undying horniness and the continued reference to painting.

he looks into your eyes carefully as he feels for your side and swipes his thumb over your tattoo. his mouth comes closer, right below your ear, "i'm not playin', i miss it." he leaves a kiss at the spot before he backs away and places his hands together in a prayer position, rocking them back and forth, mouthing "please."

the both of you almost laugh just before he turns to walk back to the group and remi calls for you to bring her a drink on your way back.

only when you're back in the living room your smile, matt once put on your face, drops as your eyes immediately catch erin and matt talking, her leg leaning far onto his as he reads the instructions and makes dry jokes about the toy she'd bought figaro.

you dont interrupt, placing the batteries near erin and taking a seat next to remi. you don't let your emotions manifest in your actions, even if you're starting to feel it a little extra when matt manages to remind you that you really are nothing but a nice fuck to him.

꩜⋆ ˚｡⋆🎱˚

tag list (ily):

@rootbeerworshiper @deadxrx @breeloveschris @saintsturn @honestlybabymiracle @hearts4chris @starrysturniolo @blissfulbellss @aoxash @st7rnioioss @blondiesjailer @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @sturnioloa @thinkingabkinkyshit101 @tcvazq @novasturniolo03

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[common-dace]

so i have not stopped thinking about gillion's banishment ever since it was revealed, but episode 114 has got me feeling fucking unhinged over it because it has given me new thoughts.

cause like, here's the thing. gillion's banishment never made sense to me. clearly, the prophecy and the chosen one are extremely important to the undersea. it is literally about whether their people continue to live or are exterminated. it is so vital to them that they took a literal child away from his family and trained him under the most important, highest-position figures in the entire undersea. just think about all the resources and time and effort they piped gill's way.

so the idea that they would just… send him away doesn't make sense. if they send away their chosen one, they're basically fucking over the entire undersea. according to the undersea's version of the prophecy, they need their chosen one or it's literally the end of the world. and even if maybe the elders didn't fully believe the prophecy, they'd still have to answer to their people who definitely believe the prophecy. (hence why the whole shebang was swept under the rug, to the point they refused to tell edyn anything about it.)

obviously, there's unseen factors at play here.

it's possible that it was, indeed, the elders' choice to exile gillion. maybe they decided they were wrong that gillion was the chosen one - after all, he'd spent the past decade or so failing in his training, and maybe this was the straw that broke the camel's back. they sent him away as punishment for the incident and to get him out of their hair, kept the whole thing on the down low to keep the people calm and preserve their reputation, and started searching for who they believe is the real chosen one.

but i can't believe that. it doesn't make sense to me, especially since time and time again, various people have been able to look at gillion and see the sheer divine energy he radiates. the elders - the most powerful people in the undersea - would surely be able to tell.

or maybe they simply didn't care whether gill was the chosen one or not, just that he had disapointed them one too many times. like it's one of those things where the people care about it much more than the government. but frankly, that just seems too convient and doesn't really line up with the intensity of gillion's training. i don't believe it either.

which means, the most likely scenario is that it was not the elders' choice to exile gillion.

i can only imagine what kind of a diplomatic nightmare it would be to try and sort out the aftermath of such an incident. it's wasn't just some rando stabbing a human - it was the chosen one, one of the most important figures of the undersea, stabbing a vice-admiral, one of the most important figures of the navy. entire wars have been declared over less. there is no way the navy would just let this slide, especially considering how hostile the navy has become and how their desire for an alliance with the undersea was really an attempt at manipulation. any opportunity for control they see, they will take.

perhaps gillion's exile, then, was simply punishment by the navy. if the navy did not know exactly who gillion was (it's not like he introduced himself to jayson prior or anything, and it's possible the elders did not tell the navy) then it would be an act that doubles as justice and as an example that resistance would not be tolerated. maybe it was part of a larger suite of demands, including opening a line of communication with the navy - after all, it seems that there might be some sort of communication going on at some level, given what gillion overheard at the all-port base in episode 61. (or maybe there is no communication, and the chosen one they talked about transferring was already in navy hands after being forcibly captured. who knows.)

speaking of, something about that whole all-port bit doesn't sit right with me - specifically, the alternate chosen one thing. the undersea seems to have appointed another "chosen one" after gillion's banishment. however, a few questions arise. did the undersea do it on their own accord, or at coercion of the navy? does the navy know that this isn't the original chosen one, or did the undersea manage to keep the whole switcheroo secret? was this chosen one even appointed by anyone or did they just kinda assert themselves? there's still so much that's unknown.

if we continue with the assumption that the navy did not know that gillion was the chosen one, then that would indicate that this secondary chosen one was likely chosen in an attempt to save face - possibly in the eyes of their people, possibly in the eyes of a navy threat (after all, it wouldn't be good to look weak). it would also indicate that the navy believes that this person is the true chosen one, which paints one hell of a picture. one of the things gillion overheard in episode 61 was that the chosen one was being transferred, presumably away from the undersea and the people they're sworn to protect. it seems like a very intentional move to try and lower the undersea's defenses and open them to attack.

i'd also like to add: i saw this wonderful post by here-there-be-drag0ns that you should totally check out if you haven't already that talks about how the gathering of undersea leaders might have been a front by the navy in order to get them all in the same place at the same time to take them all out. i just wanted to say that if this is true, then the idea that the navy would pre-emptively take out the chosen one to leave undersea folk more defenseless fits too well for my liking. they're making sure that the undersea's supposedly-best warrior is not present at this mass murder meeting where they're trying to decentralize the undersea. fucking yikes.

however, as much as all this makes sense to me and is a possibility, it still feels like there's something missing. it's up to some debate whether the navy (at least the higher-ups) know if gillion is the chosen one or not.

so. uh. episode 114, huh? what an episode. the tritons hanging on meat hooks and the triton skin on the ground was extremely striking to me, mainly because this is the first time we've actually seen other tritons in the campaign. for 113 episodes, the only tritons we've seen were the three tidestriders (and technically that one elder but like that was in gillion's mind so it doesn't count. also does gillion even count? anyway). that made the scene hit so much harder, and it really stuck in my head. in the time between gillion being exiled and now, the navy managed to get their hands on tritons without our resident pirates having any idea. this led me to a new thought:

what if the navy knew that gillion was the chosen one, and they knew exactly what they were doing in demanding that he be banished?

i'm not sold on this thought because it would make the whole "transferring the chosen one" thing kinda pointless (unless that was just a symbolic move meant to instill complacent despair into the undersea folks, etc.), but shit, it does make some sense.

because again, the undersea probably wouldn't banish their chosen one without some sort of coercion, and it doesn't make too much sense to me that the navy would particularly care about some rando (i.e., i think they'd leave the punishment to the undersea and instead focus on more significant ways they could use the incident to acquire control). the most likely reason they'd demand for gillion to gtfo is if they knew who he was, because then, they'd definitely want him gone. if you had the opportunity to get rid of one of the biggest obstacles between your plans of domination and the people you want to dominate, you'd fucking take it. it would make it all the easier for them to do what they want with the triton people.

but if this is true, then an even larger question arises: why wouldn't they just kill gillion?

well, maybe they wanted to. maybe they made that demand to the undersea, but the undersea refused. maybe they knew that the undersea wouldn't do it so they didn't even make the demand. maybe they knew that if they pushed for it or did it themselves, it'd piss off too many people and things would get a whole lot more messy. maybe they originally planned to secretly kill him and then replace him with someone under navy control to placate and manipulate the people, but it didn't go as expected.

or perhaps - and hear me out - gillion's banishment was not a punishment forced by the navy, but rather, an act of protection by the elders.

surely, the undersea knew they were in deep shit. for the first time possibly ever, the navy had come down to the undersea with attempts to manipulate them, but before they could turn the navy away peacefully, their goddamn champion barges in and all but makes a war declaration. shit could only go downhill from there.

obviously, the elders are shady and not morally great. they're flawed people who have caused a lot of hurt. they're as transparent as mud and withhold (and even lie about) significant information. however, i'm convinced of one thing - the prophecy and long-term survival of their people are important to them.

which means… the chosen one must stay alive.

but "oh, wouldn't it make more sense for gillion to stay in the undersea so he could fight off the navy because he's the chosen one and-" no. nope. we've all heard the way gillion talks about his training. the elders definitely saw him as a failure, no ifs, ands, or buts. they would have no confidence that he would do anything but be killed. so if your only options are 1) have your people be taken over by the navy but your chosen one is probably alive somewhere, or 2) have your chosen one be killed and then your people get taken over by the navy anyway, you're gonna go with option 1. you're gonna sacrifice the current well-being of your people with the hope that some day, destiny will lead the chosen one back when it is time and prevent the undersea from being wiped out entirely. an awful choice to have to make, but if you truly believe the prophecy, then you're gonna do what you have to to make sure it is fulfilled, even if the immediate consequences are dire. literally a last hope type of moment.

but "oh, wouldn't they at least tell gillion some of this because, again, chosen one, and-" nope. gillion is gillion. mf would absolutely go hero mode and try to stab another navy vice-admiral, get himself promptly killed, and fuck over the undersea worse. but if gillion thought he was banished as a punishment, well. that's not exactly something you can just return to the undersea from. it's a serious charge and gillion would know it. he'd be more likely to stay away and, by extension, stay out of navy hands. the best choice for the elders was to keep him in the dark and send him away, praying that destiny will lead him to where he needs to go.

but if we go this route, then it doesn't really work with the idea that the navy knows who gill is. it's possible that the undersea told the navy they killed the chosen one to try and cover their tracks, or maybe the navy knew they just exiled him and it angered them enough to react with a stronger iron grip and more demands, but… that doesn't really jive with me. if the navy knew the current "chosen one" wasn't the real one, there'd be no need to transfer them out. also, gillion has come face-to-face with jayson multiple times since the incident, and surely, if he thought that gillion was anyone of real significance, he'd remember his face (although, perhaps he's so preoccupied with jay that it was the last thing on his mind). plus, it's also worth noting that gillion's bounty from the navy only ever increased in connection with his pirate shenanigans. surely, if they really wanted the chosen one gone, they'd place a high incentive to lure in bounty hunters. in general, the idea that the navy knows who gill is just doesn't mesh well - it seems that they really don't know.

another possibility blends the banishment as protection idea with the concept that the navy doesn't know that gillion is the real chosen one. perhaps the navy, not knowing this, didn't really give a shit what the undersea did with gillion as long as he was punished and made into an example. however, just because the navy didn't know who gillion was then didn't mean they would never find out. again, gillion's got one hell of a hero complex - he simply would not stop at a single attack. he would persist, endangering any diplomatic attempts by the undersea to straighten things out and revealing himself as a very important figure and target.

this paints an interesting picture. perhaps while the navy did not directly force the undersea to exile gillion, banishment was still the best choice. it keeps the screw-up from making things worse, keeps the chosen one out of certain death, and keeps him a secret. in his place, the elders scrambled to find a suitable replacement to show to the navy and avoid suspicion. this way, if the navy exerted their newfound control over the undersea and did something like, say, transfer the chosen one out of the undersea to do gods-know-what, the real chosen one would still be hidden, safe, and ready for the day destiny pulls him back to liberate them all. gillion would be their plan b and secret weapon, should they fail.

("hidden," "secret," i say, like gillion hasn't spent the majority of the campaign immediately introducing himself to everyone as the champion of the deep and the chosen one. oof. never said my theories were solid. maybe in his long list of titles, the navy didn't notice those.)

anyway. i don't know. i have many thoughts, few of which are coherent. i have no idea what to believe. there's still so many missing bits of information, like everything regarding edyn. maybe i'm totally misinterpreting the transferred chosen one thing. there's also that whole storyline where gill was in the luxbris pearl and it was clear the (technically imagined?) elders banished him as punishment. there's that comment by that hanging triton where he says gillion abandoned them, which makes me feel like i am so off on the elders' intentions because maybe they publically blamed gill to save face. or maybe the elders didn't blame gill on their own accord, but rather were coerced to blame it on him by the navy, which, by this point, surely has deep hooks in the undersea government. fuck, dude. brain's going conspiracy theory mode now, i feel like i'm losing my mind. if y'all have any thoughts or better ideas than me, i'd love to hear them.

#jrwi riptide #just roll with it #jrwi #jrwi spoilers #gillion tidestrider #jrwi gillion #dace.txt

[nicolesainz]

Timeless (CS55)

Carlos Sainz x f!reader

Warnings: much much fluff, bits of heattbreak, flashbacks

Summary: Carlos has had many supporters, even during his first years in racing. Deep down he knows that only one of them stands truly out and will be by his side until the end of the line.

A/N: The story is from Carlos’s POV :)

Two lovers laughing on the porch of their first house.

“Will you make me wait any longer? I’m bored, let’s go!” Y/N hand’s we’re grabbing my legs, pulling me off of my bed. It was Saturday afternoon and exactly a week after I’d fly to England for two whole months.

Two entire months without being near Y/N. Hearing her voice. Feeling her touch. Being hugged by her and kissed on the forehead. Being encouraged by her praising words. Feeling the butterflies in my stomach every time she is around.

“Okay, fine, fine. You win! Let’s go. We will take my car this time. Yours is always squeaking and I’m afraid we will be stranded.” I gave in on her suggestion of going to see a new romantic movie that had just been released. All our mutual friends had invited her with them, but she always refused to. Two were the main reasons why.

First, they all went as couples and she didn’t want to be third wheeling. And secondly, I wasn’t here. I was in Barcelona for testing. Now it was finally her time to see the movie in the comfort she chose.

I was never planning on going to see that movie. Like Lando has told me, romance movies are not my cup of tea. But I’d sit and admire her passion about those films all day and night.

“I’m so sorry miss, but we are sold out. Maybe come tomorrow morning to check for new tickets?” The cashier tried to sound a little bit hopeful for Y/N’s sake, but that didn’t quite work.

“Oh yeah, sure. Thank you very much!” Y/N put on a fake smile and took my hand in hers, leading us back to my car. Disappointment was drawn all over her face. I couldn’t bare looking at her like this. I felt so bad that I couldn’t do anything.

“I should’ve gone with the guys. Why did I think there would still be availability for tickets? It’s the highest selling movie and has such a big demand.” She was scratching her head, trying to hold back the frustration.

“I’m so sorry amorcito. I would’ve booked you tickets if I knew earlier. We can try again tomorrow. I’m up for it.” Truth be told, I would have fallen asleep on the cinema seat if we went to the next day’s screening, since my father had taken me to practice.

“No worries Carlos. Let’s just go home and we can order something. My parents are out so we can find an old dvd or play a board game.” She wouldn’t even look at me. She was staring at her phone, typing to her girlfriends how in the end we didn’t find any tickets.

What took me by surprise was some of the messages I peeked as I was trying to catch her attention, clearly failing.

“Will Carlos take you anywhere romantic?”

“I bet if you asked him to go to the fun fair he’d speed there”

“TELL HIM THE TRUTH GIRL”

What truth? Did she want to go to the fun fair? Where should I take care? What was she hiding from me?

I turned on the car and took the opposite direction from her house, which lead to one of Madrid’s biggest fun fairs ever. Especially this time of the year, it was really enjoyable and nice.

I wanted Y/N to enjoy her time. Have fun. Live freely. See her happy. I was driving as fast as I could, so she wouldn’t notice where I was taking her.

Comfortable silence had take over the car ride, but after a few moments I heard slight snoring. I looked next to me during the red light to see that she had fallen asleep.

I don’t even know how many hours of sleep she’s lost due to talking with me on the phone, keeping me company, from the other side of the world. While I was warming up her voice was calming me down. It was like a ritual. But I didn’t understand that I was affecting her negatively this much. I had to make it up to her.

I decided not to wake her up until we reached our destination. I turned off the radio so the music wouldn’t bother her and focused on the road.

I would’ve read your love letters every single night.

“Mi guapa, do you mind waking up for a second?” I softly whispered in her ear, not wanting to startle the peace she was in. Slowly, she was rubbing her eyes and only the bright lights of the fair hit her eyes, her mouth fell open in surprise.

"Wha-Carlos what is this?"

"A way of trying to bring your smile back"

Y/N took my hand in hers and squeezed it very tightly, as if I was going to disappear. The sparkles in her eyes gave me hope and her cheeks, even though light was limited, were as maroon as ever.

"What are we waiting for then? Let's go have some fun." I opened her door and she quickly grabbed my bicep and guided us inside the funfair. She was swirling and shouting at all the games she wanted to play or the rides she wanted us to go in.

I am not a funfair guy. Even as a kid, when my sisters brought me here, I would sit out most of the rides with an ice cream on my hand, enjoying the view. I feel like with Y/N being so excited and thrilled, my inner child found what it was looking for.

What excites me is racing and speed. That day, I had found an even better reason to be excited and happy. I didn't mind the noise, the screams, the swearing, or the chilly air. I was purely happy just being alongside Y/N and seeing her with a massive smile plastered on her face.

When we entered the haunted house, we had been warned that actors pop up every now and then. She wouldn't let go of my hand, scared that in the darkness of the room I would run away. But no. I had to stop running away from her. From my feelings towards her.

I was holding her waist firmly, wanting to balance her and prevent any possible accidents. As we were close to the end of the 'tour', a witch actress scared the both of us for the last time with skeletons surrounding us.

Y/N screamed at the top of her lungs. But what she did say, almost made me fall on the ground.

"I do not want to die without having kissed you"

She wanted to kiss me? My Y/N wanted to get a taste of my lips? And as it seemed as badly as I did?

I wasted no time and in utter dark, I held her face against mine, smashing my lips onto hers, bringing the heat of her body closer to mine, wanting to secure her.

The taste of her lips was as I had imagined. The feeling I had in my stomach was levels superior to the thrill Formula One had ever given me. From race win to podiums, I had never felt like this before. It was everything I wanted. Everything I desired.

When I broke the kiss, we walked outside of the haunted house and being confronted with a visible shock on her face, but it being painted wine red. Her fingers were touching her lips, unaware of what had just happened. The other hand was on her chest.

"Is it possible to die from butterflies or being in love?" she whispered softly, coming closer to me and eyeing me directly. My own heart warmed at the sight of her being so shy and innocent. Jesus we were 20 but at that moment I felt like a 15 year old boy again, falling in love with my best friend, with whom I would share irrelevant information about my mechanics on my home's front porch.

"Don't die on me cariño. I haven't even said 'I love you' yet."

#carlos sainz f1 #carlos sainz junior #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine

[athenaistired]

𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄 ❞

— 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐥 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐞 //

ʜɪ! ɪ’ᴍ ᴀʟɪᴠᴇ! ᴡᴏᴡ! ᴡᴀꜱ ʟɪꜱᴛᴇɴɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴜꜱɪᴄ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴅᴀʏ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴꜱᴘɪʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ꜰɪʟʟᴇᴅ ᴍᴇ ɪɴ! ᴛʙʜ ɪ’ᴠᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴡʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ Qᴜɪᴛᴇ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇ ᴀꜱ ɪɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ, ꜱᴏ ᴘʟꜱ, ɪ ᴀᴅᴠɪᴄᴇ ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ.

word count: 2538

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ᴇxᴛʀᴇᴍᴇ ꜰɪɴᴀɴᴄɪᴀʟ ᴅᴇʙᴛ, ꜰɪɴᴀɴᴄɪᴀʟ ᴀʙᴜꜱᴇ, ꜰɪɴᴀɴᴄɪᴀʟʟʏ ᴀʙᴜꜱɪᴠᴇ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ, ᴇxᴛʀᴇᴍᴇʟʏ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟʟɪɴɢ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴘʜʏꜱɪᴄᴀʟ ᴀʙᴜꜱᴇ, ᴘꜱʏᴄʜᴏʟᴏɢɪᴄᴀʟ ᴀʙᴜꜱᴇ, ᴍᴀɴɪᴘᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴍᴇᴅɪᴄᴀʟ ᴅᴇᴄᴇɪᴛ

— 𝑴𝑨𝑫𝑵𝑬𝑺𝑺 !1!

You met Childe in the most bizarre way one could imagine. Just in the beginning of your rising fame, the redheaded man knocked on the door of your very well-hidden house in the heights of Liyue mountains demanding the money which you had borrowed from the Northland bank. You were at least a few million Mora in debt, and you knew that very well, but didn’t think that’d come for you this soon — all money was going into your management team, on your tours, on the best performance equipment, and on the highest quality outfits for each one of your public appearances. You had no clue how he had tracked you down, but clearly that was a mistake on your part.

“Who would have guessed that this is where you choose to live?” The man grinned with a slightly sadistic smile; he was looking down at you like you were a lower life form than him.

You didn’t let his loud and proud ego phase you. Instead, you shined with your picture-perfect smile and adjusted your voice to the same tune that you used whenever interacting with anyone outside your close circle. No, who were you kidding. You had no close circle. You’ve abandoned everything for your dream. You ran away from your family, you changed your looks, you faked your identity, you even swapped your birth name to the one which pleased your ears more — you were a walking, living fake doll. People loved that about you (your wallet, however, didn’t love it very much).

“Oh, my! How did such a handsome man managed to find me this far away in the unknown? Do you happen to be one of my stalkers?” You waved one of your hands while showing off your long, golden nails. Your other palm rested against your cheek, “Well, congratulations! I guess I’ll have no choice but to move away again!”

“Too bad that you won’t be moving anywhere else anytime soon.” The man cocked his head to the side while pulling out a long list out of his inner pocket. You knitted your eyebrows; acting completely clueless, “Usually, I don’t show up to collect money from people who don’t require physical force, but you know what our personal investigation had concluded?”

“Mm?” You puffed out your cheeks and leaned against the doorframe.

“You borrowed at least 5.9 million Mora from the bank yourself, completely destroying your credit score. And when the bank had declined you any more credit, you went to your most loyal fans and convinced them into borrowing money in your stead. If we were to count up the total of how much money had went missing due to your charades.. It’d be estimated around 25 million Mora. And that’s with counting the percentages.” As he finished, Childe looked up at you to see you ‘panicking’.

“T-there must be a mistake! I would never do such a thing to my own fans.. I love them more than anything in this world.” You scrunched up your face until salty droplets began to form at the edges of your beautiful silver eyes, “P-please don’t hurt me.. I’ll give it all back next month..”

The man got taken aback by the sudden tearful breakdown. He expected to be met with some evil manipulative witch, but instead got this circus of crocodile tears. But he was no idiot. He knew that you wouldn’t give the money back next month. You would take off and run away, or would convince another one of your fans to take the fall. And the bank would only continue to suffer from the insane amounts of credit being borrowed left and right. He had to solve this issue - now and today.

“Stop with this nonsense.” He cut you off shortly, and you froze while wondering if the man had already seen through your act, “We’ll make a deal.”

“W-what is it..?” Your throat was beginning to hurt from raising it so high. You wanted to appear fragile and sad; so that he’d feel bad for you and leave you be. These tactics always worked on your idiotic fans, but they did not seem to phase the man before you.

“All the money that you will make from now on — will go straight to me. I’ll pay for your equipment and outfits. Whatever it is. But you’ll pay me back the money with hard work. The amount you’ve stacked up will probably take at least half of your lifetime to pay off. If not more..”

You were getting involved with some serious life-changing shit. You felt your stomach tense up in a knot.

“Are you saying that you want to be my manager or something?” You giggled like a clueless idiot.

“No. You’ll sign this contract—“

The man pulled out a pre-written paper out of his bag.

So, he had seen this all coming.

“—and from now on everything you’ll ever be or ever achieve will be under my name. You’ll be a mascot for which people will pay crazy money to see, but you’ll have no freedom of your own. All you’ll ever be is just a famous pretty face, and my extra income.”

Your fake expression finally fell. There was no point in playing pretend games anymore. Seeing how serious you suddenly got; the man smirked with amusement. He made you crack under pressure and reveal your true self. He was in control of the situation, and you had nowhere to run.

“You’re not joking, huh..” You rolled your eyes.

“That’s what happens when you get yourself involved with wrong people. Don’t worry, of course. I’ll send off a big percentage to the bank until all your debts are done.” You wanted to smash his face in. Cocky, selfish bastards was the type you’ve despised the most.

“How charming. What happens if I run away and you’ll never see me again?” You challenged him back, to which a dark shade coated his eyes. He was lifeless and cruel inside — just like you.

“I will find you.”

The pause was short, but felt like a lifetime.

“And you will die.”

You got the chills.

He was no joke. He could easily end you in one blow if he so desired, but instead he was playing the long game. He wanted for you to become nothing but his puppet. You couldn’t help but also feel excitement creep up your back all the way towards the roots of your brain. They say that famous people sell their soul to the Devil to get where they do. Was this the evil by your door awaiting to collect your life in exchange for the crowd’s love and fame?

“You’re not asking me, are you? That’s the only way I can escape our meeting tonight alive.” You stated, to which he nodded with a pleased smile.

“I see you’ve got brains after all!”

And that was how the two of you met.

Your life would change forever, and never be the same again. Now, you had your own mastermind controlling every move and breath you took. He knew where you were going and for how long, he knew everything you ate and drank, he knew what you wore and what you would wear tomorrow. You had no desires, no wishes, no freedom. Everything was under his whim, and there was no opportunity of escape.

All for the price of fame.

-

“Y/N, it is your time to get up.”

You quickly opened your eyes and looked around. You’ve been awake for a while now, but you knew that you weren’t allow to leave the room until one of Childe’s assistants would come in to wake you.

It had been 3 years, 4 months, and 12 days since you’ve been financially imprisoned by the Harbinger. Meanwhile, today the world celebrated your 3rd year anniversary with your soon-to-be-husband. For his presence to appear natural, on the 4th month of the contract he had announced to everyone that the two of you were together. Every single fan and worker of his thought the same. If only they knew.. If only they knew..

“Master Childe had requested for your breakfast today to be a detoxing tea with mint salad.” Your eyes widened in surprise. Usually, breakfast meant you would go hungry all the way until dinner.

Ever since you moved into his house in Liyue, he had set many rules for you. Those included what you eat, which supplements you take, how much you drink, and even how much makeup you use. He wanted for your diet and looks to be perfect, so you reach the highest success. No acne, no breakouts, no greasy hair, no dark circles — none of that was allowed. You had to look like you were not a real person, but a painting. Someone’s imagination. An angel that had come down from the skies of Celestia.

“And a salad too? How generous.” You snorted with sarcasm, and stared down at the miserable small bowl of the green leaves with mint spices sprinkled on top.

“Master Childe had expressed his concerns over your drastic weight loss in the last 3 weeks. You’ll be seen by the general practitioner, nutritionist and dietician who came all the way from Sumeru to see you.” You rose your brows, but let it stay as subtle as you could.

“Understood.” You nodded, and proceeded to eat your breakfast, “Prepare me a bath, Chan’er.”

“Of course, Y/N.” The woman bowed to you before exiting the room to run you a bath.

The moment she was outside, you felt your heart rate pick up its pace and your stomach twisting in a knot. It worked.. It worked!

For the past weeks, you’ve done everything in your power to make yourself sick, so that you would get to see the doctor alone. It was crucial for it to be today — because Childe was far away in Fontaine dealing with some personal business. Even if he were to hear that you ran away, you’d have an advantage of at least a week to run away as far as possible and seek shelter in Mondstat. You knew that you could make it. No. You had to make it!

You had to be patient. No one could suspect anything. No one could know anything.

You took a bath, combed your hair, put on a silk robe as you applied finest makeup and shades. Later, the maids came in to show you your outfit and style your hairstyle for the day. In the end, you came out gorgeous. Y/N from 3 years ago wouldn’t believe that the person staring back at them was the same Y/N. The price for beauty was happiness. The price for fame was freedom. The price for surviving, was giving up on living.

“You’re gorgeous as always, Y/N!” One of the girls in the room cooed at you.

“Master Childe was so lucky to have found you.” Another maid chimed in, and all you could do was give the two of them a petite smirk. Well, he was lucky, meanwhile for you, it was the worst day of your life.

“None of that. It is truly a blessing to have Master Childe be a part of me and my future.” It was a curse. “I couldn’t be happier.” You have never been this miserable.

“True love does exist after all!” The third one — you also liked to call her ‘the romantic’ — couldn’t get over of how ‘sweet’ and ‘doting’ your relationship with Childe was.

True love, huh..

Such thing does not exist after all.

-

“My name is Dr. Amal, it is a true pleasure to meet you, Y/N.” The doctor shook your hand and you politely greeted him while taking a seat.

“Thank you for making the time to come and see me.. This is a bit awkward, my fiancé can be such a worry-head.” You fake-laughed, but the other male easily bought into it.

“Master Childe had notified me that you lost quite some weight.” The doctor looked at a document (most likely a letter to him from the Harbinger), “So, let’s talk about that. How have you been eating?”

“Oh, I love eating. I always have 3 balanced meals and a snack. And don’t even get me started on the sweet tooth of mine!” You blushed. The doctor looked you up and down, and furrowed his brows.

“Is that so?”

The conversation went back and forth. Dr. Amal would throw a question at you, and you would easily dodge it with an easy smile and pre-practiced answers. Eventually, you noticed that the doctor quickly came to a dead-end. Now, was the moment for show-time.

“Although.. There has been something going on with me. I’ve been feeling touch which hadn’t been around me. I hear voices which aren’t present! The smells which aren’t being spread.. Doctor..” The more you spoke; the more your bottom lip trembled, and your hands shook in ‘terror’.

“May I be going mad?” In that moment — on queue — you broke down in tears with your face buried in your palms, “I’m afraid my fiancé were to leave me had he known he’s with a mad person! Doctor, whatever should I do?” Dr. Amal blinked at you in worry and confusion, “I love my fiancé more than life itself, I couldn’t live were he to leave me!” The doctor reached forward to place a comforting hand on your shoulder. You sniffed up and locked your eyes with him.

“This.. Is not my expertise, Y/N, but I know the doctor who could help. He’s originally from Inazuma, but right now he’s visiting Lisa the Librarian in Mondstat. He’s on a journey to learn more, but I’m certain he’d make time for you. I’ll send him the letter.”

Your palms hid away the maniacal grin on your face.

“Doctor, I have no clue how to thank you!” You stood up to hug the man. Dr. Amal quickly pulled you off himself.

“Y/N, there’s only so much I can do, and as a doctor I am obliged to help you. So, no need to thank me.”

“No, Doctor! Thank you! Thank you! I shall be thankful to you until the end of time!” You bowed to him over and over again, until taking a seat back at your chair, “But.. Doctor, you mustn’t tell my fiancé! He’ll beat the madness out of me!”

“M-master Childe beats you?”

“No, no! But sometimes, I’ve seen him raise his hand at maids, assistants and workers. I wouldn’t wanna disappoint him, Doctor, so please do not tell him! Say that I went into intensive treatment for a viral infection. Say that I mustn’t see anyone for weeks if not months! Help me, Doctor. You’re the only one who can..”

You started crying again to play as much of the pity party as you could. The man gritted his teeth and lowered his head.

“Alright, Y/N. I’ll help you. Plus, patient confidentiality means that I can’t disclose information to anyone, which includes your fiancé too.”

Your plan was officially in action.

#genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin #writing #genshin scenarios #genshin angst #genshin childe #childe x gender neutral reader #childe x y/n #childe x reader #childe imagines #childe angst #angst #genshin horror #childe tartagalia #tartagalia x reader #genshin tartagalia #fanfic #fiction #prompts #genshin impact scenarios #fatui harbingers #idol au #celebrity au #fame au

[carionto]

A Proper Welcoming Party - P2

Part 1

As Big Thrasher's fleet emerges from hyperspace, they are all pleasantly surprised that: a) they all arrived roughly at the same time this time around; b) none of them are crashing into a planet or space station; c) they're not getting shot at immediately.

Glorious success!

Now the raid begins.

Quickly scanning the perimeter, Big Thrasher learns the orbital mining station around Mercury is, for starters, way bigger than they thought based on the intel they had, which was only a few months old. And there were three of them now. Okay, Humans build quite fast. Noted.

There was a number of heavily armed and armored large ships docked at each station, and signs of recent hyperjumps of similar magnitude, but no cargo ships. Weird. Are the Humans somehow transporting the processed materials using individually powered containers? Doesn't seem very efficient.

No matter. Big Thrasher has a fleet of a hundred ships, they can just pillage the stations themselves and load up with precious cargo. In fact, none of the Human ships or structures have shield! What fools, such easy pickings! As he was about to broadcast his demands and threats, he noticed the comms have been pinging for a while now. Oh, they want to surrender already? Good. This is going so much better than planned!

"Unidentified vessels, this is the Heart of Liquid Stone. Your sudden appearance in our space is disrupting scheduled flights. Move out of the indicated transport departure area and identify yourselves, please."

Something's off, but Big Thrasher can't quite put his finger on it. Oh well, they're listening, and they clearly don't know who they're dealing with. So, he shall speak with the full authority bestowed upon him by the raw confidence of someone who doesn't know he's about to learn a very valuable lesson!

A moment of silence after his proclamation. Indications of encrypted communication between the stations and the docked ships, and several scan pings going over his entire fleet. Then, a slightly bemused Human calls back:

"Uhh, you sure about that? From what we can see, you guys don't got enough, well, frankly everything, to do much of anything to Bertha's Bosom over there, let alone this station."

At this, one of the large unshielded military ships undocked from the station with uncanny speed and grace for a vessel it's size. If Big Thrasher was paying attention, he would have noticed that a single turning engine was more powerful than all the main engines on his flagship combined. But he didn't, because he was paying attention to the several massive cannons training their sights on his fleet.

Sure, they're big, and kinda scary, but, but, BUT - his ships have shields and theirs don't! Doesn't matter how big a gun you have, any weapons technology before the invention of shields becomes obsolete. This has proven to be true in every civilization. Energy weapons, now that's the real stuff. Drain the shields, then easily melt through the hull, everyone knows this.

So... why is it that they have all been firing at one spot on the hull of Bertha's Bosom for nearly a full minute now (without retaliation or evasive maneuvers, but they're too busy to notice such details), and it's not even red hot yet? You would need an astronomical amount of reinforced multi-layered plating with the highest grade heat dispensing alloys interwoven throughout the entire vessel to absorb a concentrated laser barrage like that. The sheer mass of such a ludicrous thing would then require stupendously powerful engines. AND to power THOSE would demand literally impossible levels of energy generation. Nothing is making any sense right now.

Then, there was a thud. Even though it's the vacuum of space, Big Thrasher felt it. He did not understand what it was.

He equally did not understand what the shiny particles were where one of his ships used to be. Or why they were streaking in a trajectory directly away from one of Bertha's.. cannons....

Oh.

Uhhh...

huh

Big Thrasher is having a thought (a truly rare occurrence, so let's give him some time)

...

..

.

RUN AWAY! RUN AWAY!!!

#humans are space orcs #humanity fuck yeah #humans are deathworlders #humans are space australians #humans are space oddities #story #scifi #carionto

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Crewmate: Death The Kid

“HOW DARE THESE INSIPID BRAIN-DEAD IMPOSTERS RUIN MY PERFECTLY EVEN NUMBER OF CREWMATES!?!?!?”

For some reason, the rest of the crew isn’t all that confident in him 

He wonders why?

But as the son of the infamous captain—Death, he will not let these imposters go unpunished 

He can’t forgive the danger they pose to his favorite person and his rise to stardom

Oh…yeah…and…the crew too…he’ll save them too

He doesn’t know why he’s so interested in you

You're not symmetrical in the slightest

You’re not perfect in any way he’ll say as he blushes and scoffs

When you're not wearing your suit none of your undergarments match he knows he checked

He doesn’t know why he replays your actions on the security cameras for hours on end

Or why he demands all your tasks be shifted to his sectre

But you’re just so aggravating

you keep wandering away from his watchful eye

Of course, he’d end up falling in love with an absolute dolt

Well, all this means is that he has to root out the imposter even sooner by any means necessary:

The child of the infamous Captain of Death was having quite a dilemma. In secret, he was able to patch communications with the Innersloth headquarters where his father was stationed and he was finally able to report the anomaly of the imposter. 

“Hmmm I see and in the meantime you’ve been ejecting those you suspect?”

“Yes. Unfortunately, those we’ve voted to eject have confirmed to be humans, meaning the imposters continue to murder the crew.”

“Perhaps they have plans to invade the entire station…this is an incident of highest alert! You must find the imposter! Who do you suspect as I’m sure you’ve kept keen observation on all of them?” 

Golden eyes drifted from the monitor to the wall of cameras, currently all on a single crewmate. 

“Aye, I was hoping to completely clean the Skeld of all possible imposters or any that may be infected.”

“...All of them? That’s quite a…bold decision….are you sure there is no one other than yourself that can be cleared of suspicion? What about your bodyguards?”

“No everyone has proved to be a possible threat…all for one.”

Death tilted his head at the flutter of pink that seemed to come over his son's face. Clapping his hands together and closing his smiling eyes(?).

“Ah-! I see! There is a crewmate you can most definitely confirm that they are not the imposter?”

“YES! I’ve sent their blood tests and a sample of their blood. ALL OF WHICH WERE TAKEN CONSENSUALLY.” 

A speculative eyebrow raised at the loud proclamation but the renowned captain shrugged as he continued to rifle through the evidence delivered to him. While he wasn’t fond of the idea, he’d sooner lose the dwindling crew of the Skeld than compromise the entire Innersloth headquarters. 

“Alright then! I’m giving you my biiiig stamp of approval!” With a smile and his iconic thumbs up, he only got his son’s deadpan response. With a nervous cough, he put on a serious face–one that lived up to his name.

“Now, how do you plan to clean the ship of the imposter waste?”

Kid silently preened at the word to which he responded with a grim gleeful smile. 

“The old fashion way will do. I promise to return the Skeld in its pristine condition. All I ask is that you prepare the families for the atrocious state that the imposter left the bodies in.”

__________________________________________________________

You patted your hysterical crewmate on the back as you silenced the crackling your snack’s packaging would have made. 

“H-hey, it’ll be okay…uh…miss?”

“Marie!” 

“Right it’ll be okay Marie.”

Somehow the name made her burst into another bout of tears as she moved to cry on your shoulder. You continued to pat her back completely lost on how to console the woman so clearly having a breakdown. 

And at an almost perfect time, the airlock of the sliding door hissed as it opened, letting the perfect distraction make his way into the room. 

“Oh hey, Cap’n Kid? What’s up?”

He seemed to twitch with annoyance, you wondered if it was the nickname you used for him. The murderous golden glare on the blonde crewmate on your shoulder said otherwise. Nonetheless he seemed to shake that off before standing straight.

“Agent (Y/n), you need to come with me!”

“Uhh,” You looked to Marie,” right now?”

He gritted his teeth, “Yes. Right. Now.”

He turned and began walking in the speedy way that he usually did; spurring you to follow him. As caring as you could be you disconnected the teary-faced Marie as you assured her you’d be back soon before running to catch up to the symmetry-obsessed captain. 

“So Cap where we headed?”

“Somewhere.”

“Somewhere?”

“Yes. Somewhere.”

He undid his glove putting his thumbs on the pristine smooth surface of the untouched screen. Which unlocked a series of vault-like doors that led deeper than any part of the Skeld. He did this a few more times walking confidently down these mile-long stretches of hallways to lead to a pod. 

“Uhm Kid, what is this place?”

“...”

He didn’t speak, instead, he opened the doors to the pod and stepped aside as he waited for you to hesitantly enter. You were half expecting to find some horrible torture chamber but instead were pleased to find a place mirroring your own room surrounded by the collection of your favorite space-friendly food. 

“Wow look at all this–”

Slam *Click*

“W-what?!” 

You turned to the door to see your captain smiling widely in the window of this pod. 

“By entering the Captain’s pod you have contractually agreed to be rescued from the Skeld and have thus become one of the sole survivors of the imposter’s massacre.” 

You stood up quickly preparing to bang against the glass only to stop at the haze of dizziness that took over you with a colored smoke through an unknown spout. It was a very short time before you attempted to go to the bed only to crumple asleep against the foot of the bed; leaving you entirely helpless as the pod smoke cleared and the pod door slid open. 

Kid entered giving a wistful sigh of euphoria before scooping you up and laying you haphazardly across the bed.

“Perfectly imperfect,” he moaned, wiping the drool from his mouth. Pulling out his gloves, he dawned them with symmetrical grandeur.

“Now, it’s time I begin the purge of all the imposters!”

#yandere among us #yandere among us death the kid #yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #yandere crewmate #yandere soul eater #yandere soul eater death the kid #yandere death the kid #yandere soule eater

[lacrimosathedark]

PSA for Tim Drake Fanfic Writers

There's this thing I see in a lot of Tim fics that always has me immediately closing the fic. And I think it may be that people just aren't as obsessive about info as me and don't know, so I thought I'd make a little informational post.

Tim's mother was dead before he was officially accepted as Robin.

I see so many fics with Tim being around people like Conner and Stephanie and his mom is alive, when he wouldn't have been anywhere near meeting them. It drives me insane. So let me give you the rundown on Tim's start.

So, we all know A Lonely Place of Dying, right? Where Tim tracks Dick down to Haly's Circus, attempts to demand he return as Robin, gets taken to Wayne Manor, and when Batman and Nightwing get tangled up with Two-Face he becomes Robin to save them.

You may also know that Bruce refused to have another child in the field with him without intensive training over the course of several months.

During this training, an arc known as Rite of Passage, Jack and Janet Drake are kidnapped in Haiti by a...probably problematic villain called Obeah Man. He nearly kills them both, but Batman does get there to save them...only for Janet to accidentally drink poison and die and Jack to suffer severe nerve damage and drop into a coma.

This is why Tim could get away with a whole overseas training arc after that. His dad was comatose and his mom was dead. Bruce became his temporary legal guardian.

He also meets and ends up teaming up with Lady Shiva during this overseas training adventure. She's also the one who gave him his collapsible bo staff. And just for the record, she continually goaded Tim into killing her, as she is wont to do. Tim clearly didn't kill her, but he did defeat her in combat. So give my boy some respect for his skills please.

Hell, he knew Jean-Paul Valley before he knew Stephanie. Knightfall, when Bane famously broke Bruce's back, came before the introduction of Spoiler and Cluemaster.

And then Jack Drake is awake from his coma by the time Tim has met Bart, which was also before he met Kon.

Just...if Tim's Robin, his mom is dead, okay? Totally fair to make an AU because canon is wackadoo already but please label it cuz AUs are cool so long as I know that's what it is and if it's not labelled my brain decides the writer doesn't know what they're talking about and I can't read it even if it's one of the highest rated fics in my search and it causes me great pain because I NEED CONTENT 😭

Thank you for coming to my Tim Talk.

#Tim Drake #Robin #Red Robin #DC Comics #Janet Drake #oh my fuckin god she fuckin dead

[jackredfieldwasmyjacob]

just came across this map, i think it's quite interesting! it shows the identity sentiment of pertenance to a province / autonomous community by province, in brown-ish you have those provinces where the feeling is strongest, and in blue-ish those where the feeling is lowest.

the conclusions i can get while looking at it are

galicians, catalonians, basques and canarians are the ones with the highest regional identity. that should be no surprise, it makes a lot of sense as their cultures are the most distinct

all of castile has the lowest regional identity, which also kinda make sense i guess.

you can clearly see the two largest autonomic disputes in the country: guadalajara not feeling manchego (in fact i found this map on a tweet from someone from guadalajara demanding they secede from la mancha) and the old kingdom of león (león, zamora and salamanca) not feeling castilian.

andalusia is also quite interesting to me because you can clearly see the split between western and eastern andalusia. the west feels very andalusian, while the east not so much, especially almería.

the 'neutral' ones are the most interesting to me i think. i understand why madrid is like that, and i sorta get the balearic islands as well (people there tend to identify with their island and not the autonomy?), as well as murcia (people from cartagena would rather have a province of their own) but i have no clue about most of these

feel free to add your thoughts !!!

#map #maps #spain #iberia #cultures

[rohanneofcoldmoat]

I've been thinking about Tyrion and his connections to the next Battle for the Dawn/Second Long Night, and there's just so much there. Tyrion effectively begins his story by heading to the Wall, it's his stated intention to do so in his first chapter. When he arrives there he befriends key players Jon Snow and Jeor Mormont and has firsthand experience with the primal, supernatural fear generated by the Others and the dangers lurking beyond the Wall.

As he stood there and looked at all that darkness with no fires burning anywhere, with the wind blowing and the cold like a spear in his guts, Tyrion Lannister felt as though he could almost believe the talk of the Others, the enemy in the night. His jokes of grumkins and snarks no longer seemed quite so droll.

Jeor later says that House Lannister has never been a friend to the Night's Watch, but Tyrion's experience there in AGOT results in him breaking that mold a bit. The issue of the Wall is raised again when Tyrion is acting hand, and while he maintains a level of distance and disinterest to protect his image, he does offer them help. Throughout the book, he consistently sends the Watch men, usually as a punitive alternative to executing them, from Janos Slynt to the various dungeon occupants he sends with Alliser Thorne to the men who planned on helping the Redwyne twins escape Kingslanding. And in the instance where Thorne demands an audience and calls Tyrion a fool for brushing him off, Tyrion is once again reminded of that feeling of doom and danger he felt while looking out at the lands beyond the wall.

Tyrion remembered a cold night under the stars when he'd stood beside the boy Jon Snow and a great white wolf atop the Wall at the end of the world, gazing out at the trackless dark beyond. He had felt—what?—something, to be sure, a dread that had cut like that frigid northern wind. A wolf had howled off in the night, and the sound had sent a shiver through him.

And the issues of the Wall and the dangers lurking beyond it are raised again, when Tyrion's power and influence are considerably reduced as Master of Coin. He advocates for the Gold Cloaks who deserted their post during the Blackwater to be sent to the watch rather than crippled and left to beg in the city. Tyrion also tries, insistently but unsuccessfully, to convince his father that Janos Slynt is the wrong man for the job of Lord Commander. Clearly, there's a level of personal grievance there, as Tyrion sent Slynt to the Wall to get rid of him. However, the scene is couched with Tyrion expressing genuine concern and regret that Jeor Mormont may be dead, and as a result there's a sense that Tyrion is genuinely advocating for what he believes to be the best interests of the Watch.

Tyrion liked that notion not at all. "The black brothers choose their own commander," he reminded them. "Lord Slynt is new to the Wall. I know, I sent him there. Why should they pick him over a dozen more senior men?" --- Tyrion hitched forward. "Janos Slynt is the wrong man, Father. We'd do better with the commander of the Shadow Tower. Or Eastwatch-by-the-Sea." --- Tyrion's anger flashed. "Lord Janos is a hollow suit of armor who will sell himself to the highest bidder."

So Tyrion has been something of a "friend to the Watch" consistently throughout the series, and it's almost certain he's going to meet up with/became an advisor to Dany. If he continues his efforts advocating on behalf of the Night's Watch in that role, I think he'll find a much more receptive ear.

That night she dreamt that she was Rhaegar, riding to the Trident. But she was mounted on a dragon, not a horse. When she saw the Usurper's rebel host across the river they were armored all in ice, but she bathed them in dragonfire and they melted away like dew and turned the Trident into a torrent.

#tyrion lannister #daenerys targaryen #valyrianscrolls #asoiaf #*

[greatwyrmgold]

A Thematic Analysis of Starship Velociraptor

Those familiar with Galactikraken's debut album might think thematic analysis of Starship Velociraptor is pointless. Its songs are quite obviously about whatever the band members thought was rad, and I won't disagree with that conclusion.

But that conclusion is incomplete. I've listened to most of the album over and over, and there are patterns in what Galactikraken considers rad. There are three recurring points that I'd like to draw attention to: Anti-authoritarianism, wealth, and piracy.

A couple quick points. First, I will use "Galactikraken" to refer to the metaphorical narrator of these songs and the collective voice of Johnathan Young and his band members. Second, I'm mostly discussing the songs, and will bring up the animated music videos when they compliment or contrast the songs' narrative in some interesting way.

Now, let's start where the album does.

Glory or Gold

What's rad? Piracy Pirates mentioned? Obviously

Appropriately, the first song in the album clearly establishes its primary themes and focuses on the recurring motif of piracy. Its chorus clarifies the thesis:

So hoist up the Jolly Roger, we're taking a ride. Take back the life that they denied. For glory or gold, we sail across the galaxy, Our sovereign starship flying free. Forever, our treasure taken from plutocracy. We've all got mouths to fuckin' feed. So it's a pirate's life for me!

Relevant conjecture: Any sentence containing a word ending with either "-archy" or "-cracy" will make a political statement.

In this case, Galactikraken seems critical of plutocracy. They don't adopt a pirate's life because they want to be rich and famous; they do it because their lives were denied by the wealthy elites, and they still have mouths to feed.

Verse 1 hones this criticism beyond the vague concept of plutocracy to what I can only call capitalism.

All of my crew and I are wanted for the highest form of treason: For questioning authority demanding we sweat and bleed and slave our lives away, then call it freedom.

I don't know what Galactikraken's real-world political beliefs are. But I know what they wrote, and this? Profiting off the sweat and blood of an underclass, and claiming that that underclass is free? That's capitalism, baby.

"Glory or Gold" isn't a detailed or nuanced critique of capitalism; it's a sail-by broadside against its worst excesses. But it's there, and it's worth examining. Practically every line of this song is condemning the "plutocracy," holding it responsible for everything that drove them to piracy.

I also feel it's worth pointing out that this song mixes "authority," "plutocracy," and "the crown". Part of this is presumably because those lines sound good with those specific words, but it also means that we can't assume every king in one of these songs is a literal king. That's just how symbolism works—especially in music, where the words you use are limited by rhyme, meter, and whether the word's sounds sound good with the other songs in that line.

Best Band in the Universe

What's rad? Music, hubris, profanity Pirates mentioned? Only if you assume all songs in the album are about the same group of pirates, in which case pirates are mentioned in all songs

I don't have much to say about this song, because I personally don't like it, because of reasons that are completely irrelevant to this post.

What is relevant to this post is that one of the reasons Galactikraken declares itself "super cool" is that they "break the rules". That anti-authoritarian streak is present.

Settle it With a Swordfight

What's rad? Swordfights, especially ideological ones Pirates mentioned? Yes

This song is the second-most-obvious example of Galactikraken just writing songs about cool stuff. Which isn't a criticism, it's a statement of fact. I like "Settle it With a Swordfight," but beyond being cool, it's kinda dissonant with the rest of the album.

Well, if you roll with us and you’re not seeing eye to eye, A problem on the crew you know that words just won’t revise. When there’s nothing left to say, you’ve got to let your blade reply. Someone’s gonna die. (Settle it with a swordfight!) If we can’t tell just who’s right, (Settle it with a swordfight!)

Anyone who watches shonen anime knows the kind of fight this song is about. Two characters disagree, and they come to blows over it. The resulting fight challenges both characters' conviction and ideals as much as it challenges their strength and skill. It's undeniably cool!

It's also pretty much the only time a song in Starship Velociraptor praises violence against pirates. And it's absolutely praised, "Cold steel can justify your sins" and all that. Other songs in the album praise violence of various kinds, but violence against authorities, not fellow pirates.

Hyperspeed

What's rad? Speed, starships Pirates mentioned? No

This song is pretty straightforward. The first line tells you what to expect:

The only thing that gets me high is going faster than the light.

There are some love-song undertones in there, but this is mostly a song about going fast and why going fast is cool.

If you sail away with me, we'd escape reality. So accelerate in one, two, three!

Speed and flight are common symbols for freedom, a theme which is pretty prominent in this album. "Hyperspeed" fits this reading like a glove, and its music video even more so. (In my opinion, "Hyperspeed"'s music video fits it better than any of the other animated music videos.)

Army of Tigers

What's rad? Tigers, armies Pirates mentioned? No

"Army of Tigers" poses a bit of a problem for this analysis.

On one hand, the tiger general attacking the Sun could be symbolic. The Sun might represent an unjust authority, a world order most people see as natural and benevolent, even as it "sends us cataclysmic cancers" and stuff.

On the other hand...

Quench the final fire, extinguish heaven's light! I command an army of tigers. Defeat the Sun tonight!

That's a hell of a chorus, and that might be reason enough for Galactikraken to assault that castle in the void.

Storm the Castle

What's rad? Regicide Pirates mentioned? Not really

We will not be prisoners in a kingdom taken hostage by her crown.

Is a kingdom really mighty when for a sick and starving child it doesn’t care?

Storm the castle, kill the king!

Even if the word "monarchy" isn't technically used here, my prior conjecture seems pretty relevant. Whatever the king represents, Galactikraken hates it. And we've talked about how fluid symbolism can be.

But why does Galactikraken want to kill the king? I'd quote relevant lines, but that's like half the song. The king deserves death because of how the kingdom suffers under his rule. He says that he's protecting the kingdom, when he's the greatest threat to the people.

The hypocrisy is part of the problem, but for the most part "Storm the Castle" focuses on the "countrymen...drowning in despair". The king isn't bad because of some abstract notion of freedom, or because he's an ugly pig monster, or even because he's a liar. He's bad because his wealth starves the common people.

(Which is part of why I think "Storm the Castle" has the worst animated music video. It focuses on the cruelty of the wolves and the malice of the secret pig demon thing, making the evil more individualized and less systemic. Yeah, the fat pig monster in throne armor makes a cooler fight scene than a cowering aristocrat surrounded by elite guards, but trying to make that part cool undermines the song the video is supposed to support!)

Anyways. The song is literally a call to action, albeit against a fictional/allegorical king. The peasantry (proletariat) need to put aside their petty concerns and unite against the crown (against authority, against plutocracy). This isn't just a matter of political philosophy; we've all got mouths to fucking feed.

The obvious thematic resonance between "Storm the Castle" and "Glory or Gold" is the whole reason this post exists.

Starship Velociraptor

What's rad? Luxury starships Pirates mentioned? Surprisingly not

This song is the most obvious example of Galactikraken just writing songs about cool stuff. Which isn't a criticism, but it's absolutely impossible to ignore after writing about symbolic regicide.

To be balanced: "Starship Velociraptor" is, in part, expressing the same kind of fantasy as "Hyperspeed". The fantasy of zooming around the galaxy in a super-fast starship is a key part of the song.

But the titular starship has comfort, speed, and style; moreover, comfort gets more focus than speed and style more than comfort. The starship isn't "the finest ship in the galaxy" because it's practical, but because it's opulent.

Practically every description we get of the starship focuses on pointless opulence. "Hardwood floors instead of tile," "leather seats," "a fridge that's full of meat," "that holographic suite". Sure, that stuff was written because it rhymes, but most of it rhymes with itself. Galactikraken picked a bunch of cool-sounding stuff that rhymes to describe their cool starship, and most of that stuff is opulence.

I don't want to shame anyone for wanting opulent stuff, but the focus on opulence is remarkable, considering most of the album's more negative perspective on wealth.

His keep ship could shelter hundreds, His gold meat could feed far more. I have just one last question: What are you waiting for?!

It would be one thing if the song was about a bunch of pirates stealing some plutocrat's yacht from under his nose and using it as their flagship, but it's not. It's basically a car ad?

You've got to get it You can buy on credit Our payment plan, you won't regret it, yeah

The song feels deeply consumerist, like an ad manufacturing desire for pointless luxuries. And this consumerism is played straight. I don't like "Best Band in the Universe," but I recognize that Galactikraken was trying to make its hubris the butt of the joke. I don't get that sense from "Starship Velociraptor". It's just an earnest luxury car ad.

The music video is a bit different—perhaps the biggest gap between music and video on the album. Part of that is aesthetic; the animated starship looks practical, tile floors instead of hardwood. But it also plays up the escapism potential of a starship.

Part of this is because the video's central character is an ordinary Earthling who literally escapes her boring office job to board the starship, but part of it is because we see the starship doing stuff. We spend some time focusing on the interior, matching the lyrics; most of the rest of the video is focused on 90's sci-fi anime action. The starship zooms through space, it gets into battles, the central character hangs out with space people on and off the ship. The animation focuses less on the starship as an object than as a place where cool things happen.

Man the Cannons

What's rad? Wooden ships and iron men Pirates mentioned? Kinda

I mean, pirates and pirate iconography aren't mentioned, but who else on the high seas has cannons and swords and boarding actions? Marines, I guess, but that doesn't fit the treasure focus or the anti-authority vibes of the rest of the album.

Anyways. "Man the Cannons" doesn't introduce much new thematic stuff. Ambiguous piracy as a path to freedom, rad treasure, rad swordfights, teamwork makes the dreamwork. ("And if we band together, so it shall be.") And anti-authoritarianism, of course!

Defying law and nation, defying god and king. Through trial and tribulation, we smile and sing.

It works, I don't dislike the song, but after going through most of the album, I have nothing new to say about this song.

Jetpack Race

What's rad? Jetpacks, flight, escapism Pirates mentioned?

You know how I've talked about speed and flight being symbols of freedom? This song all but turns that into text.

A cog in some machine, you're chasing after dopamine, you wish that you could find a way to fly

Despite the upbeat melody and tempo, "Jetpack Race" has the second-bleakest lyrics of any song in Starship Velociraptor. The verses and half of the chorus are talking about the dreary mundane life that the jetpack races are supposed to let you escape from!

You didn't ask for this, but ignorance is bliss. You wish that you were just content to be a drone. You know we're all the same, the world's a joke and life's a game, And even all together, we're alone.

It's easy to miss behind the three-digit BPM and C♯ major key, but that's cynical. Especially that last line, which asserts that the solidarity praised in the rest of the song is an illusion.

For me, the most meaningful line is "Running a race that can't be won, you'll feel like you came in last." The ordinary life that Authority wants you to live is a scam that can't be run, that does its best to make you feel responsible for your failures, no matter how untrue that is. That's why we hoist up the Jolly Roger...or put on a jetpack, I guess.

10,000 Light Years

What's rad? I dunno, pining? Pirates mentioned? Via synonyms like "outlaw" and "privateer". (Bah, privateers are pirate sell-outs.)

If "Hyperspeed" is a spaceship song with love song undertones, "10,000 Light Years" is a love song with spaceship undertones. Being aromantic, I do not understand why all y'all allos would like being lonely and wishing you weren't light-millennia from the stranger you got a crush on.

But I do understand themes, and some of the familiar ones pop up through the romantic(?) longing. Like the bit where Galactikraken mentions "sign[ing] my life away off-world". Ultimately, the conflict in this song is caused by the same thing as in most Starship Velociraptor songs.

Our own enemy within, drowning us in despair. The crown, authority, plutocracy. The forces demanding that we sweat and bleed, then call it freedom.

It's also worth noting that the tempo and key are more mournful than most of the album, which makes the last song feel less aberrant.

Final Frontier

What's rad? Not. Us. Pirates mentioned? No

For our home we destroyed, so we sail onto the void For an undiscovered system far from here. If the wind takes our sails, if we live to tell the tale, For the end of Mother Earth is drawing near.

To wherever the wind may take us, Lady Luck, just don't forsake us. If we're ready or not, this is our judgement day.

But who can trust us once they learn why we're adrift, If we can't even trust ourselves? We are but insects, undeserving of their gifts. We all deserve to burn in hell.

Yeah, that beats "Jetpack Race".

"Final Frontier" is a powerful song, and it's stronger for the obvious contrast with the rest of the album. The worst emotions the other songs tried to evoke were romantic nostalgia and righteous fury. "Final Frontier" is nothing but despair and shame.

Does it fit with the themes of Starship Velociraptor?

Well, it has nautical metaphors and space as escapism (of a sort), so there's some recurring motifs.

Our greed and vanity have brought this final shame...

Ah, yes. Plutocracy.

The "burning bed our fathers made" is global warming, pollution, mining runoff, the Holocene extinction, a thousand other little ways that "the crown" fucks over the planet to extract every nugget of gold, literal and metaphorical.

This is what happens if we obey authority, if we don't defy law or nation, if we just chase after dopamine until it's too late. This is the future if we don't kill the king.

Exiled humanity and all of us to blame

We all deserve to burn in hell

I don't know how I feel about this.

Is "Final Frontier" condemning every man and woman on this planet, holding them all responsible for what we've done, because it's ignorant of humanity's power dynamics? Because it doesn't notice or care about parts of the "burning bed" that only burn marginalized humans and not forests?

Or is it holding us responsible for the king's greed and vanity because we didn't stop him? Because we didn't rise, stand, and fight? Because we didn't work hard and persevere? Because we rejected the pirate's life?

Is that right? Is it wrong? I don't know. But that's what the song says.

Weaving the Threads

Let's start with the symbol I've referenced the most. The crown, the sun(?), authority, law and nation, god and king, plutocracy. The bourgeoisie, the men who control the world's wealth and power, using that control to profit off the blood, sweat, and tears of the proletariat.

And then there are pirates. They're only directly mentioned in a fraction of songs, way fewer than I assumed before I actually counted. What do the pirates represent? They're the highest form of treason: Questioning authority. The pirates first seek their own freedom against the tyranny of authority, and then rise in rebellion share that freedom with others. It's all very One Piece.

When you realize what the pirates represent—freedom and rebellion—you start to hear it in all but one of the album's songs. They are speed, they are escapism, they are space itself. They get you off the brakes, they storm the castle, they defeat the sun. You even hear it through the consumerist haze of "Starship Velocity," in the freedom of owning a starship.

This political purity is marred a bit by idolizing the space pirate lifestyle alongside what it represents, idolizing the violence of swordfights and the luxury of space travel and the individualism of whatever's going on in "Jetpack Race".

But the pirate's life is consistently framed as cool because it breaks the rules, because it resists authority. Everything the album frames as rad is connected to anti-authority pirates, directly or through association. And it's everywhere in Starship Velociraptor...

...except "Final Frontier".

The entire album builds up the symbol of the pirate, of freedom and revolution. And then it shows us the world where the pirates lost, or where they never existed. A world where the king ruled until the world was no more.

...

Maybe I'm just projecting my own political beliefs onto an abstract text. Maybe a Nazi or Libertarian could interpret these songs in a way that fits their worldviews. But this is what Starship Velociraptor means to me.

It's a lonely night in hell above this broken privateer, Running a race that can't be won, you'll feel like you came in last. Is a kingdom really mighty when for a sick and starving child it doesn't care? They ask us why we must reply with violence. So let me take you for a ride. 'Cause you clearly have good taste Nothing that we can't achieve, if we only just believe. Your eyes can tell you know you need Takе your freedom, claim your right, For the end of Mother Earth is drawing near. Man the cannons, draw your sword. You're gonna kill that fuckin' guy! Defeat the sun tonight!

#galactikraken #jonathan young #starship velociraptor #themes #music

[mariana-oconnor]

The Solitary Cyclist pt 3

Last time, Watson did some legwork, but got it all wrong. Holmes did some legwork and you should have seen the other guy. Meanwhile, as they were puttering around, Violet Smith got into a trap, that turned out to be a trap, and was abducted by the grounds of an unscrupulous clergyman.

I sense a non-consensual marriage for the purposes of inheriting the fortune of her long lost uncle. But whether she's marrying red-moustachioed Woodley, the would-be rapist. Or Mr Carruthers her employer (who is clearly using the 'but I'm better than that guy' method of courtship), who knows?

(I should know, but I don't remember).

We were warned twice of oncoming tragedy, however. And getting a quickie divorce or annulment wasn't really a thing in Victorian Britain, as we've previously discussed, so circumstances are dire.

I hope she stabs them both (and the clergyman) with her hat pin.

I grasped Holmes's arm. “That's the man!” I gasped. A solitary cyclist was coming towards us.

Well observed, Watson, but I'm pretty sure that's the guy who's been shadowing her this whole time to try to prevent her from being abducted. Still... good try. I think it might be Carruthers...

“You're the man we want to see. Where is Miss Violet Smith?” he said, in his quick, clear way. “That's what I am asking you. You're in her dog-cart. You ought to know where she is.”

Another little slapstick moment. This is also reminiscent of The Copper Beeches where they turn up and everyone demands to know what the other party has done to the daughter, not knowing her boyfriend smuggled her out.

“Good Lord! Good Lord! what shall I do?” cried the stranger, in an ecstasy of despair. “They've got her, that hellhound Woodley and the blackguard parson. Come, man, come, if you really are her friend. Stand by me and we'll save her, if I have to leave my carcass in Charlington Wood.”

What shall you do? What shall she do, more like. Seriously. Stalking her was not a good solution to this problem, you muppet-head. Why didn't you just tell her? OH YEAH, because you wanted her to keep working for you so you could marry her and get the fortune she didn't even know about. Right. You're such a great guy.

It was a young fellow about seventeen, dressed like an ostler, with leather cords and gaiters. He lay upon his back, his knees drawn up, a terrible cut upon his head. He was insensible, but alive. A glance at his wound told me that it had not penetrated the bone.

The groom is still alive, so that's one fewer people to worry about.

"We may save her from the worst fate that can befall a woman.”

Again, I say that the best way to have done this would have been to tell her what was going on in the first place.

Also, I'm pretty sure they're referring to 'being ruined' here rather than, y'know, trauma and pain and violation of her bodily autonomy and personhood. Ugh.

As he spoke a woman's shrill scream—a scream which vibrated with a frenzy of horror—burst from the thick green clump of bushes in front of us. It ended suddenly on its highest note with a choke and a gurgle.

Not traditionally a good combination of sounds. Let's hope that Violet stabbed Mr Woodley in the balls with a hat pin and that was his scream and choke and gurgle. And not... y'know, Violet being strangled.

“This way! This way! They are in the bowling alley,” cried the stranger,

Sorry to disrupt the tension for this but...

And back to the abduction of a young woman by a rapist, shall we?

One was a woman, our client, drooping and faint, a handkerchief round her mouth. Opposite her stood a brutal, heavy-faced, red-moustached young man, his gaitered legs parted wide, one arm akimbo, the other waving a riding-crop, his whole attitude suggestive of triumphant bravado. Between them an elderly, grey-bearded man, wearing a short surplice over a light tweed suit, had evidently just completed the wedding service, for he pocketed his prayer-book as we appeared and slapped the sinister bridegroom upon the back in jovial congratulation.

Did you not need witnesses in the Victorian era? Also, there really should have been some way to negate a forced marriage. Just, seriously? I feel like outside of some very specific circles, the use of a riding crop at a wedding should automatically negate the wedding in question.

As we approached, the lady staggered against the trunk of the tree for support. Williamson, the ex-clergyman, bowed to us with mock politeness.

Also, he's an ex-clergyman, so why does it even count? Don't they get their powers of matrimony stripped from them when they're defrocked? (Is it called defrocking for C of E? ...Wow, that just led me down a rabbithole. Huh, apparently they voted to bring back defrocking in C of E this month after 20 years of it being abolished, which honestly seems fair.)

Just, basically, my takeaway from this story is, now that I am not a child, mostly that the Victorian era was fucked up and that there is no way, legally, religiously, or morally, this "marriage" should never have been treated as such. And technically the only thing that happened here today was an abduction and an assault.

“You can take your beard off, Bob,” said he. “I know you right enough. Well, you and your pals have just come in time for me to be able to introduce you to Mrs. Woodley.” Our guide's answer was a singular one. He snatched off the dark beard which had disguised him and threw it on the ground[...] “Yes,” said our ally, “I am Bob Carruthers,

Literally everyone knew the beard was fake, Bob. Except maybe Watson, but even there I think he might have known.

Once again ACD does an excellent job of writing an odious human being that I want to hit repeatedly. That 'just in time... to introduce you to Mrs Woodley' is such a villain line. My skin, it crawls.

“You're too late. She's my wife!” “No, she's your widow.”

OK, I don't like Bob Carruthers. Never let it be said that I like the guy. He is definitely culpable in all of this for many reasons, and he's absolutely a creep. But this is great delivery. 10/10 for style in this one moment. 1/10 the rest of the time (and the 1 is only for not being a literal rapist), but right at this moment, good line.

His revolver cracked, and I saw the blood spurt from the front of Woodley's waistcoat. He spun round with a scream and fell upon his back, his hideous red face turning suddenly to a dreadful mottled pallor.

And he did shoot the guy, so he gets like... one point for that. 2/10. I really feel like Miss Smith should have been allowed to shoot him, as a treat, but sure, Bob can do it.

"We'll have no more violence. Come, hand it over!”

Come on, Holmes. Can't she just like... kick him in the balls?

I carried my report to where he sat in the old tapestry-hung dining-room with his two prisoners before him. “He will live,” said I.

Ah, you fucker. Come on Carruthers, you can't even kill the guy right? Come on. Just do one competent or decent thing. I am literally begging you.

“There are two very good reasons why she should under no circumstances be his wife."

The first being: it was non-consensual. The second being... it was non-consensual. There you go, two very good reasons.

"In the first place, we are very safe in questioning Mr. Williamson's right to solemnize a marriage.”

That, too, but I do feel like the lack of consent is the most important reason.

“I have been ordained,” cried the old rascal. “And also unfrocked.” “Once a clergyman, always a clergyman.”

I... I don't think you understand what the word 'unfrocked' means... That's literally the statement it disproves. Maybe Holmes needs to explain this to you in short words.

"How about the license?” “We had a license for the marriage. I have it here in my pocket.”

"But in any case a forced marriage is no marriage, but it is a very serious felony, as you will discover before you have finished."

Oh, Victorian Legal system. You aren't quite as fucked up as it seemed. Good for you.

"As to you, Carruthers, you would have done better to keep your pistol in your pocket.”

No, I think he did a pretty good job, actually. Woodley deserved a bullet in him and Carruthers ends up in jail, too. Wins all round. I see no problems with this.

“I begin to think so, Mr. Holmes; but when I thought of all the precaution I had taken to shield this girl—for I loved her, Mr. Holmes, and it is the only time that ever I knew what love was..."

I remembered like halfway through that he was going to pull the 'I started out just trying to get her fortune, but I actually fell in love with her along the way' line and I'm sad that memory was correct. Ugh. If you really loved her, you would have told her what the fuck was going on and told her to go marry Cyril as soon as she could and get another job. But you don't. You just wanted to feel like the good guy. Which you're not.

Fuck off, Bob.

"I kept my distance from her, and I wore a beard so that she should not recognise me, for she is a good and high-spirited girl, and she wouldn't have stayed in my employment long if she had thought that I was following her about the country roads.”

...no

...no, she wouldn't.

And that would have been a good thing.

“Why didn't you tell her of her danger?” “Because then, again, she would have left me, and I couldn't bear to face that. Even if she couldn't love me it was a great deal to me just to see her dainty form about the house, and to hear the sound of her voice.” “Well,” said I, “you call that love, Mr. Carruthers, but I should call it selfishness.”

Watson. I take back everything negative I have ever said about you. You tell him! You took the words right out of my mouth.

“Maybe the two things go together. Anyhow, I couldn't let her go. Besides, with this crowd about, it was well that she should have someone near to look after her."

Bob... no. Stop believing your own hype. You're not the good guy here. You're not the white knight. You're the slightly less shitty guy. And it's not a high bar. The bar is subterranean.

The old man is dead.

RIP to Miss Smith's uncle in South Africa. We never knew you and were, in fact, informed that you were already dead. Sorry, my dude.

Williamson is terrible at being a criminal, btw. "Don't you tell him anything!" *proceeds to correct Holmes's facts*.

"For some reason Woodley was chosen as the husband. Why was that?” “We played cards for her on the voyage. He won.”

I had forgotten this detail.

May I say once again, with feeling.

Fuck. These. Guys.

“When in your report you said that you had seen the cyclist as you thought arrange his necktie in the shrubbery, that alone should have told me all."

So Watson did see something important, Holmes just didn't notice it. Ha!

"As to you, Mr. Carruthers, I think that you have done what you could to make amends for your share in an evil plot. There is my card, sir, and if my evidence can be of help to you in your trial it shall be at your disposal.”

No, no he hasn't. He did bare minimum out of a sense of entitlement and selfishness. He knowingly put her in danger and refused to put an end to it just because he wanted her to stick around. Fuck him. Nope.

I have put it upon record that Miss Violet Smith did indeed inherit a large fortune, and that she is now the wife of Cyril Morton, the senior partner of Morton & Kennedy, the famous Westminster electricians.

Good for them.

And the bad guys ended up in jail, although Carruthers mostly got away with being an odious human being, ugh.

Well, that was an enraging narrative. I had forgotten how absolutely terrible they all were. And I don't think I really gauged how horrible the situation might have been for Violet when I was a child. She's definitely one of the characters in these stories who has it worst (while still surviving), second only to the poor lady in The Greek Interpreter, I think.

I hope she and Cyril were very happy together.

Here, let's end with a picture of a better sort of Bob:

#Letters from Watson #Sherlock Holmes #The Solitary Cyclist #long post #.

[optiwashere]

So, it's time to meet Karlach, vamp-man, and see a few interesting scenes in the Asheera replay...

Upon first meeting the vampire-that-definitely-doesn't-look-like-a-fucking-vampire, Asheera is pretty much completely ready to boot him for attacking her. However, she remembers her oaths. It's her duty to take in those that need protection, and for her to prefer peace above all else whenever possible. That includes those that attack her if there's a good reason they did so, and especially if they've also got a worm stuck in their gourd.

Then, the party almost immediately meets the one and only.

The bone man. This face about sums up Asheera's reaction to him. She thinks it's a bit bizarre that what looks like a mummy followed them to camp. Surely he's not hiding something else up his weird, dusty sleeves.

Oh, and of course how could I forget! The party takes Wyll to go find this devil he's supposed to hunt. That goes about as expected. Wyll is easily persuaded (and like all of those dialogues have +5 or +10 approval, so he really doesn't want to kill her even though his situation demands it). I think to Asheera this shows that Wyll is exactly who he says he is: she values the high road, she's a paladin of Redemption after all. But this solidifies her trust in him as a real hero.

And when the party goes to deal with the fake paladins asking for Karlach's head... well, they get the jump on the paladin and absolutely, utterly annihilate him.

Not before Karlach gets this banger out though!

Asheera had a little nighttime visitor after this... and let's just say that it actually had the opposite effect to what the little pale boy thought it would. He lucked out when he got roped into a paladin's crew. It's weirdly a part where Asheera can understand him more now.

Now he's someone that needs her. That's a lot easier for her to understand, and especially when it's a monster that needs her help. He very clearly has a lot of weird bullshit simmering under the surface, but she can't quite articulate what it is yet.

Also, Karlach gets another banger line in this scene. This is probably the moment when Asheera starts to really like Karlach. In another world, Karlach...

But seriously, this is the exact ideal Asheera tries to live up to with her oaths.

So around here is where my fic canon diverges from the game. In "It Is the Wound She Gave Me" the druid grove is raided kinda in the middle of the night while the party is sleeping at the grove. A lot of folks are taken, including Shadowheart and Asheera. So now's the part where my slight canon divergence is going to have some pointed commentary for each scene!

Because whew did I forget how easy it is to get Shadowheart's approval up lmao. I wasn't even picking options that I know give the highest approval! There's a couple in there that I know she disapproved of, it's just so easy to get her past that first threshold if you break her out of the pod in the nautiloid.

I could go on and on about how that shows how under all the indoctrination she's constantly searching for an excuse to break out, but that's so... thematic. How under the surface, she just wants to find something that has purpose. How she thinks that's the cult she's been indoctrinated into, but how maybe some of those tenets she's memorized and regurgitated to appease her Mother Superior were just that — regurgitations. False beliefs she tells herself she wants to have so that everything she's endured is for some purpose.

I digress.

Given the canon divergence here between the game and my fics, getting to this date feels so fast. It's just a night between the two of them here, drinking and chatting, but I forgot how rapid-fire the romances could be lol. No wonder I elongated the fic timelines.

I think Asheera is grateful here to see what she hopes is the real Shadowheart. Not the one that's hiding behind a dozen masks, which is funny given that Shadowheart has yet to admit a certain divine proclivity at this point. Even so, it's nice. it's a crack in that shell that Asheera's beginning to see makes up almost everything about Shadowheart. Asheera might be a bit of an idealist at times and that can blind her to all sorts of cues she should have picked up on (for instance, turning her back on vampire boy when they first met) but she can read Shadowheart's reticence for what it is. It's a mixture of fear, uncertainty, and a tinge of embarrassment (you can even tadpole her to see that last one, but Asheera doesn't use the tadpoles after the first time it feels like "something was taken from her" earlier that day).

While chatting, Asheera shares a detail of her life that Shadowheart can relate to extremely well.

I do wish the game would let you explore that half-orc, biracial experience a bit more. I'm a biracial person that feels completely alien to both sides of my family tree, so this line hit me out of nowhere the first time I played. I insist that Asheera is not a self-insert, but sometimes the details line up incredibly well like this lol.

After goading Shadowheart to share a little bit about herself, the night ends with both women looking up at the stars. Asheera turns to Shadowheart and notices she's waiting for something.

What's a paladin to do but take hold and charge headlong into the fray?

#oc: asheera #asheera replay posts #the first three (four?) posts are from one play session but actually writing out my thoughts takes some Time #After the next post I'll be covering a lot of things in a single post - the next one covers Shadowheart's Sharran confession #and there is SO much to talk about w/r/t Asheera and her oath there #the only thing that needs more is the Gauntlet #(don't tell anyone but part of the reason I did this is so when I get to the Gauntlet in the replay I can solidify Asheera's thoughts on it

[mittwoch-addams]

‘Irreplaceable’: meet the Matildas’ other bonafide superstar

Ellie Carpenter, one of the world’s best footballers, was playing in the biggest game of her career when her knee gave way. One year on she’s chasing an even bigger prize – a home World Cup.

It’s the biggest game of her life but Ellie Carpenter is being carried off on a ­stretcher. The replay is a sickening sight, causing groans among the 32,000-strong crowd. Her left knee has buckled beneath her, leaving the 22-year-old thumping the ground in agony. Her Women’s Champions League final is over and maybe so much more.

Waves of pain from her ruptured ACL make it hard for the young Australian to think clearly as she is lifted off the field after only 13 minutes playing for her club Lyon against Barcelona in Turin on May 21 last year. And yet, at this moment, she is focusing harder than she has ever thought before. The girl from Cowra, the former child prodigy of Australian soccer, wipes the tears from her eyes and stares straight up at the sky as if in a trance.

“Count,” she tells herself as her ­stretcher makes its way out of the ­stadium to the applause of the sympathetic crowd. “Count the months.”

“I was thinking, ‘Oh shit, what month is it?’ Carpenter recalls. “It’s usually a 12-month recovery [from an ACL injury] and I needed to count the months until I could play again. So in my head I was going like ‘June, July, August’ and then I’m like ‘YES, YES, YES, I’ll make it. I’ll recover in time for our World Cup.”

-

Almost exactly 12 months later Carpenter, now 23, bounces into a cafe in central Lyon, France, with her blonde hair in a bun, wearing a T-shirt and shorts and a grin on her face. It’s a wet spring day, but the sun is rising again for Carpenter after a horror year. She is back on the field, playing again for Olympique Lyonnais, the best women’s team in the world. Off the field, she is happy and in love. She has bought a house just outside Lyon with her ­partner and teammate, Danielle van de Donk, one of the best footballers on the planet, who also plays for the Netherlands national team. 

If the rapid-fire ticket sales are any guide, Carpenter may be underestimating the reception that awaits her and the Matildas. 

The World Cup, to run from July 20 to August 20, jointly hosted by Australia and New Zealand, will see an estimated 83,000 watch Australia’s opening match against Ireland at Sydney’s Accor Stadium – more than double the Matildas’ previous highest attendance of 36,000. The opening match was moved from the 42,500-seat Sydney Football Stadium to the 83,000-seat Stadium Australia (known as Accor Stadium for sponsorship purposes) to meet the surging demand for tickets. At least 1.5 million people are expected to attend the games in Australia and New Zealand with an estimated worldwide audience of two billion. FIFA predicts the World Cup will encourage up to 400,000 girls to take up soccer in Australia.

“It’s crazy now, women’s football,” says ­Carpenter. “I’ve seen it go from here to here,” she says, moving her hands towards the sky.

Marketing surveys show the Matildas have overtaken the men’s Wallabies rugby union team in popularity, something that would once have seemed unthinkable for a team that only formed in 1978 and for years had to play on substandard ovals. The small crowds that came to watch them play in those days were mostly family and friends. 

“It’s incredible to see where this team has come from to be one of our biggest sporting brands … so many players have paved the way for this moment,” says Heather Garriock, who played 130 games for the Matildas between 1999 and 2011.

Ellie Carpenter's FIFA World Cup mission

For years Matildas players were paid a pittance, having to hold down second jobs while playing for the national team. In the early days one player recalled how a teammate called the coach before an international match to say she would be late because her shift at Woolies didn’t finish until 5.30pm. In the lead-up to the 2000 Sydney Olympics, the Matildas were so desperate to secure sponsorship and public support that 12 of them posed naked for a calendar to get attention. Fast-forward to today and the Matildas are a household name, and Kerr is ­arguably the most recognisable Australian sports star in the world. In May, wearing a sharp black suit, she carried the Australian flag into Westminster Abbey for the coronation of King Charles III.

But it will take more than Kerr’s soccer ­royalty for the Matildas to realise their dream of winning a home World Cup.

-

On a cold spring evening in London on the eve of the coronation, Kerr is playing to script, slamming the winning goal for her team Chelsea against Liverpool with just minutes to go. As she leaves the ground I ask her what she thinks about having Carpenter back with the Matildas for the World Cup. “Ellie is one of the best players in the world,” says Kerr, who ­described Carpenter as “irreplaceable” when she injured her ACL last year. “We’ve missed her and she’s a great personality to have on the team … I’m feeling good, I’m feeling excited [about the World Cup].”

A few days later, Carpenter is sprinting up the right wing, weaving the ball around her teammates during morning training near the Parc Olympique Lyonnais stadium on the outskirts of Lyon. It is just over two months since she made her comeback from her injury and the previous weekend she was one of the team’s best players in their 3-0 win over Dijon.

She calls out to her teammates in French and jokes with them in French, but if she makes a mistake on the field, the word “shit” rings out across the ground in an Aussie twang.

Her bilingual world in Lyon, a French foodie capital crammed with UNESCO World Heritage sites, is a reminder of just how many lives Carpenter has squeezed into her 23 years. “It all started here,” she says, pointing to a tattoo on her ankle that shows the outline of Cowra, her hometown of 12,500 people in the Central West of NSW. “It’s like one main street, two sets of traffic lights, a place where we knew everyone and everyone knew the Carpenters.”

Looking back, Carpenter’s unlikely rise from the streets of Cowra to international soccer star was both a blessing and a curse. It was a blessing because she lived the real-life sporting fairy-tale. This was the tale in which a determined young country girl becomes a prodigy of the game, shattering every barrier in her path to find herself playing for Australia at the age of just 15 and then at the age of 16 at the 2016 Rio Olympics, the youngest ever female footballer in the world to compete in an Olympics.

The curse was that she was so good, so early, that she was a kid playing among adults, being thrust into the spotlight ahead of her time, ­before she was ready and before she had time to grow up. “I hated it sometimes,” she says. “I was always the youngest. People would say, oh, you’re the youngest ever Olympian or you’re the youngest ever to score a goal, the youngest this, the youngest that. I was playing with ­people who were 10 or 15 years older than me and you had to mature very quickly. It was hard with the pressure, the spotlight, the critics … I wasn’t prepared for that at the time.

“I’ve been in the public eye since I was 15 and now people think I’m 30 but I’m still just 23, one of the youngest in the team.” 

-

Belinda Carpenter still scratches her head about how her daughter fell in love with soccer. “She was highly energetic, she never sat still but she did all sports – a bit of athletics, AFL, soccer, cricket, even triathlon, cheerleading and trapeze,” she says. Belinda and her then husband Scott, who were Physical Education teachers in Cowra, encouraged Carpenter and her older brother Jeremy to dabble in any activity that took their fancy. “Ellie also did ballet, so she would play ­football in the morning and then go to ballet with muddy knees under those pink stockings,” Belinda recalls. 

“I think I always knew I would be a sportsperson, because ever since I could walk I was running,” says Carpenter. “I think I could have done any sport really because I was also good at swimming and athletics. I was a tomboy. I didn’t really have a normal childhood. I never went to parties like other girls, I just wanted to play sports.”

She played soccer from an early age but her path as a serious player began by accident when, at the age of about seven, she watched her brother Jeremy train with the NSW country soccer team. “I was just on the sidelines waiting for him, juggling the ball on my own, when the coach came up and said that I could join their next session. I was the only girl and the boys were much older than me. I don’t ­remember this but apparently I was, like, really good, smashing all the boys.”

Belinda and Scott decided to give both Ellie and Jeremy the chance to compete in competitions across the state. This required a brutal schedule of long drives for training and games. “Honestly I can’t believe they did that for me,” Carpenter says. “From Cowra we used to drive to Canberra every Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, which was more than two hours there and back, and then sometimes we would play in Sydney which was four hours there and back on the same day. I would spend so much time in the car, doing my homework or making up quizzes and things just to pass the time.”

By the time Carpenter was 12, it was clear that she had a natural talent that could no longer be nurtured from Cowra. So Belinda quit her job and moved with both the children to Sydney so they could attend Westfield Sports High School in Sydney’s west, which had a specialist sports program.

It was a big school in a big city, a culture shock for a country girl. “It was a huge change, I became this small fish in a big sea,” she says. Not long afterwards, her parents divorced, a time which she describes as difficult and sad.

The following year, aged 13, ­Carpenter went to watch the Matildas play in Sydney. “I think there was a maximum of 1000 people there but I watched the national team play and I was like, ‘Oh, sick, I want to be that.’ Then two years later, I was on that team. It was crazy.”

Carpenter’s precocious talent turned heads in the soccer world at that time, and things ­unfolded quickly. She broke into the “Mini-­Matildas” under-17 team at the age of 14, and when she turned 15 signed her first professional contract with the then W-League club Western Sydney Wanderers. The coach was so impressed with her that she didn’t even need to trial for the team.

Carpenter’s ambition was such that although she began her career as a midfielder, she volunteered to be a defender when the Mini-Matildas said they needed defenders only because she didn’t want to be cut from the squad. “I was like, I want to be in the team so I will play wherever.”

In March 2016, when she was still just 15, Carpenter made her debut for the senior Matildas, playing in a 9-0 victory over Vietnam. 

Not long afterwards, she was playing for Australia in the Rio Olympics, the first of the string of “youngest ever” firsts that she would soon tire of. “Obviously I was so young – I think I was the youngest in that team by five years,” she recalls. “So I guess I was kind of on my own. Some players were 30 years old and some of them were a bit like, ‘Who is this 15-year-old who has come into the team?’ and some people don’t want you there because you might take their spot. So some didn’t like me being there, but you’ve just gotta keep going.”

After the Rio Olympics, Heather Garriock, who was then coaching, says she noticed that the 16-year-old Carpenter was struggling. “I could see that she wasn’t doing well with the massive comedown after the hype of the ­Olympic Games. So, you know, I just put my arm around her – and since then I’ve always put my arm around her and taken her under my wing. She just wanted to be the best and to get better every day.

“She is so driven to win and yet she’s got such a nice nature, a very humble kind of girl who will always give you her time.”

Carpenter says she was forced to grow up quickly, but with the help of people like ­Garriock she eventually found her rhythm and adapted to the ever-growing public glare of being a Matilda. “I think it took me a couple of years, until I was about 17, to come out as Ellie,” she says.

In Year 10 Carpenter dropped out of school to pursue her dream of being a full-time ­footballer. “She wasn’t at school very much anyway,” says Belinda of her daughter’s busy soccer schedule. “I just told her, ‘Go do it, ­because if it fails and you don’t get to where you want to go in soccer, we will go back and figure out the education route’.”

When Carpenter was 17 she was pursued by the US National Women’s Soccer League team Portland Thorns, in Oregon on the US west coast. She signed with them but, in those days, women were not allowed to play until they turned 18. The club was so keen for her to play that she signed a contract literally on her 18th birthday, and played the following week, racking up yet another series of “youngest evers”. “That’s why I was the youngest ever player and the youngest ever person to score a goal in the NWSL at that stage,” she says.

-

Carpenter says life in the US was a shock ­“because it was so different to Australia”. ­Belinda recalls that her daughter would often ­FaceTime her during dinner just to have a ­companion to speak with. “Until she found her feet I would often hang out with her on the phone while she was having dinner at a restaurant or something when she didn’t ­really know anybody.

“Even though Ellie is really outgoing, with a wicked sense of humour, I think she is also a bit guarded about who she lets in.��

Even so, Carpenter says she enjoyed her two years in Portland where she regularly played in front of crowds of 20,000. By this stage she had become a fixture of the Matildas team, playing in the 2019 World Cup in France where they made it to the round of 16 and then the 2020 Tokyo Olympics where the Matildas made it to the semi-finals.

By the time she turned 20, Carpenter was being pursued by the strongest women’s team in the world, Olympique Lyonnais. She recalls the moment she learned that Lyon wanted to recruit her. “I was like, ‘Are you serious?’ It was Lyon and I was like, ‘Are you sure they want me?’ I mean, if Lyon calls, you go to them ­wherever you are because they are the best in the world.” This is no exaggeration – the team has won eight Champions League finals in the past 12 years, including five in a row between 2015 and 2020. 

But Carpenter’s arrival in 2020 wasn’t so easy. “It was the time of the Covid pandemic so the city was shut. I didn’t know anyone, and I didn’t know French,” she says. So she began her life anew yet again, throwing herself into French lessons and making friends at her new club. She impressed local fans by trying to speak French at press conferences, albeit with an Aussie twang. She also fell in love with Lyon itself. “I love it, it’s beautiful – not as nice as ­Sydney, but it’s still beautiful.” As soon as she arrived, she also saw why her new team kept winning championships. The ­fitness, the training, the skills were next-level, even for Carpenter. “She called me up and said, ‘Um, Mum, these players are really, really good’,” recalls Belinda. Initially she found it hard to break into her new team, and she won her first European Championship with Lyon in 2020 without taking to the field when she was on the team as an unused sub.

“I don’t think many people understand what it really takes to be a football player,” says Carpenter’s teammate and partner Danielle van de Donk. “You win trophies and everyone thinks it is a high but no one really knows about the lows.” Van de Donk, who has been going out with Carpenter for about two years, says she has the rare ability to lift the team’s morale ­single-handedly. “She is the most energetic person I know, she is very, very positive, and off the pitch she just brings a different kind of energy to the room – even when she was injured the coaches were saying to her, ‘Bring your energy to the team, we need it’,” says van de Donk. “She is already a star but she is just going to get bigger and bigger. She is only 23.”

Van de Donk says she’s attracted to ­Carpenter because they are “similar people in life”, adding: “It’s kind of wild, she is from ­Australia, I’m from the Netherlands and we are buying a house in Lyon – it’s very cool.’’

After that tricky start at Lyon, Carpenter ­became a regular in the team – until the 13-minute mark of last year’s Champions League final. “It was just sickening to watch her go down,” recalls Belinda, who was watching the game live in the middle of the night from her home in Wamberal on the NSW Central Coast. “I actually said when I watched it, ‘She does not go down and she does not stay down’.”

-

Carpenter’s injury came in two parts. The first came when she was tackling an opponent near the corner post and her left knee twisted in the tackle. Carpenter hobbled off in obvious pain. But she was desperate to come back on, and tested the injured knee in front of the team’s medical staff. “I remember being on the sideline and they were testing me and I was like, ‘Is it strong, can you feel my ACL?’ And they were like, ‘Yeah I think it’s fine, so you want to go back on?’ and I’m like, ‘Yeah, it’s the Championship Final.’ So I ran back on and then I was like, ‘Oh, something’s not right’.”

Back in Wamberal, Belinda was horrified to see her daughter run back onto the pitch. “We were like, ‘No, no, no, don’t do it’,” she recalls.

Moments after returning to the field ­Carpenter moved to intercept a long pass. But as soon as she changed direction her knee gave way completely, severing her ACL and sending her to the ground.

Van de Donk, who was watching from the sidelines as a substitute, had torn her own ACL as a teenager and knew what lay ahead. “I saw her go down and instantly I knew it was wrong,” she recalls. “It was horrible to watch.” 

But once Carpenter counted the months and realised she could still potentially play in the World Cup in Australia, her mood lifted. Lyon won the match 3-1, giving Carpenter her second championship medal and yet another first as the only Australian to win two Champions League medals. After the match, despite having her injured leg in a splint, Carpenter joined her teammates in the celebrations on the field, swinging precariously on her crutches and then hopping on her one good leg as she held up the Champions League cup. She then flew back to Lyon with the team and continued the celebrations. “I was in so much pain, so I just took lots of painkillers but we went to a restaurant and partied in Lyon drinking champagne until 5am.”

The next morning Carpenter woke with a hangover to the bad news she had feared. She needed a full knee reconstruction and would be out of the game for up to a year. Recalls Belinda: “The first thing she said to me on the phone was, ‘I’m getting an operation, I’m going to get better and I’m going to play in the World Cup’. It was all about the World Cup.”

That has been Carpenter’s singular goal ever since. In those early months after her injury when she could not run, she followed her rehab plan like it was Holy Writ – long hours in the gym keeping the muscles working followed by swimming, physio, massage and the hardest task of all: patience.

“I had to learn a lot about patience because I am impatient,” she says. “When I finally was able to take my first jump again I actually cried with happiness.” At times Carpenter wondered whether she would be the same player when she returned, but mostly she says she kept her mental demons at bay.

“It was a long journey for her and she was a bit insecure in the beginning, she struggled for about three weeks,” says van de Donk. “But after that she was OK, she just powered through – and now I think she’s much stronger than she was.” Carpenter, for her part, puts a gloss on the whole saga, saying she believes it gave her a much-needed break from the game she’d been playing almost non-stop since she was a child.

Today, Carpenter’s football routine is very full-time. She goes into the club from around 9am to 4pm most days to do a mixture of ­training, gym, recovery and sponsorship work. Then she plays on weekends, often travelling. She works with a nutritionist and also a ­psychologist. She estimates she gets one day properly off each month. Such is the profile of the team in Lyon that she now gets recognised in the street, and after three years here she says she is now fluent in French.

“Ellie has always known the path that she wanted and she has just followed it ­completely. That is pretty incredible for a 23-year-old,” says former Matildas player ­Garriock. “She is already one of the world’s best players and her energy and leadership are crucial for the World Cup. She has achieved things at 23 that others wouldn’t achieve in their whole career. I have no doubt that she will be the captain of the Matildas in the ­future. She has all the leadership qualities and the big game experience.” 

Carpenter is now on the home stretch of her quest, hoping to stay in form and avoid ­injury until the World Cup begins in three weeks.

Although she loves playing for Lyon, she says there’s nothing like going home to play with the Matildas. “It’s like going back to your family,” she says with a grin. “We’ve all known each other for years. Everyone is so close. We can all laugh at ourselves and we look after each other. It’s such a good, strong group. I don’t know how to ­explain it but I have a special passion when I play for the Matildas, it’s unique. For me, this World Cup is the top of the top, it’s probably the best thing I will ever experience.”

So how far can Carpenter and the Matildas go in this World Cup?

“We’ve never seen an Australian team like this,” says Garriock. “This core group of players like Ellie Carpenter, Sam Kerr and Caitlin Foord have played together in World Cups and big tournaments since they were 16 years old. They are in their prime and this is their moment. It is written for them.”

#ellie carpenter

[chidoroki]

For the queen who killed her father, it's in one of her flash back

but you were right, it wasn't the king who was with Julius, but it's not clear of "when" it happened.

I thougth that it was just after the promise because she doesn't seems to be the kind of demon who make compromises (even her brother Leuvis is more easy to talk with and it's already a lot)

I'm actually surprised that she waited 1000 years to try to take a genious kid from The One. I don't think that Norman was the only one genious in 1000 years \_(:/)_/ I know that genious are kinda rares but in 1000 years, there had s had a lot of children, some must have been very smart. maybe because now they were more equiped to detect kids like Norman?

Also for Ray's watch, i think i read it in a interview where people asked if Isabella had given gifts to the other children, like she did for Conny, and the answer were yes and that Ray had had a pocket watch and Emma a music box. But sorry i can't find again the link of the interview =(

Ah, you're completely right. Looking back, that's from ch152 and something I clearly had no memory of until now.. oops. It's that flashback of Julius from ch142 that threw me off since he mentions making the deal with the queen, so I thought the demon he faced in those panels was just a younger version of Legravalima, not her father.

Pfftt, Legravalima is definitely the most selfish out of that entire family. Emma was brave enough to try and reason with Leuvis back at Goldy Pond, can you imagine if she had the chance to talk-no-jutsu the queen? It would be the shortest conversation ever. Leuvis entertained Emma's ideas because she brought back some excitement into his life and wanted a thrilling hunt; the queen would straight up just eat her with no questions asked.

It is kinda hard to believe that during all those 1,000 years that no other child managed to reach the level of intelligence that Norman had. I would think that maybe the royals weren't aware of such premium quality meat since they're always offered up to the demon god instead, but there are so many children born each year in order to keep up with the hungry demands of the demon society and Norman is the highest grade ever? Crazy. (Isabella raised him well.)

Ohh, I vaguely remember hearing about Emma getting a music box too.. kinda bummed we never saw it in the manga/anime. It's alright that you can't find the interview! Isabella giving gifts to her children is believable enough.

#a wild ask appeared #the promised neverland

[the-fiction-witch]

Girl P1

Media The Last Legion AU

Character Romulus Augustus (Age Up)

Couple Romulus X Reader

Rating Dark Smut

The winners write history, is a phrase I'm sure many are familiar with. and It's something many of us have to remember whenever looking at any recorded history, It's always a massive asterisk that needs to be remembered. That history is recorded by those who win, by those who control and rule, and who want the world to look favourably on them.

That and history books often skip over smaller things deemed less important.

I walked the blood-stained cobbles of the once beautiful city, through the bustling market littered with wooden stalls graced with sweet cotton fabrics and the various items being offered. The tall buildings looming over us all create a shade for us all from the intense sun and merciless heat. I wore my little grey sandals laced up my legs well, my little cream dress, with my wicker basket in hand filled with the items I had already picked up. I continued with my shopping and did my best to stop myself from purchasing things I didn't need.

As I turned the corner in the market I stopped short a moment as I saw the blood red and shimmering gold on the amour of city soldiers at the foot of the statue of Mars, three of them stood one clearly a commander barking orders to the others, the other two stood hassling a young girl in green. She couldn't have been much older than me they were trying to take her to a nearby cart but she was scared and trying to argue with them but that was a useless display as the soldiers were too strong merely picking her up and forcing her onto the cart where I noticed many other girls sat. I didn't want to pry into what was going on, perhaps some kind of round-up over some new law. But I trod carefully as I continued my shopping.

I stopped to check over some pears and oranges when suddenly my basket was forced from my hand and the guards began to take me to the cart.

"What- Where are you taking me!?" I complained trying to get out of their grip but they just pushed me into the cart with the other girls. "What's going on?" I asked one of the girls

"I don't know, they've been gathering up girls all day," she says

Soon enough they led the cart through the city, I did my best not to panic looking at the city, people bustling about their business, the soldiers at every corner.

They took us to the tall gates of the palace, they took us inside the palace and forced us into a line in the high luxury corridor. I didn't know what was going on but anytime someone tried to speak to each other soldiers would force their silence. There were only women in this line and I was at the end of it. I was fearful, unsure of what I had done or why I was here not being helped as the line moved deeper and deeper into the palace's grand halls. Finally, the hall opened up to the grandest room I had ever seen in my life.

The room was huge bigger than the temples with pillars of marble and curtains of glistening gold the walls were lined with guards in red and gold uniforms, the line of girls being marched across the floor. At the head of the room two souls sat, the first in a small wooden chair graced in white robes with red embellishments was the balding, sickly-looking man, I knew who he was from announcements and other such things. The royal advisor, he was the highest of the senate and the man who had to carry out that which the emperor demanded you could tell the role of this weighed heavily on him. And the other soul.

I had rarely seen him, no one had. But he was identifiable all the same. He sat on the throne of Roma and her empire, but he sat on it sideways so his head dangled off the armrest, his legs off the chair so the back of his knee sat on the other armrest, he was barefoot, in clothes worth more then everything I owned tight black trousers and a shirt of deep royal purple with gold lining and rope around cut-outs that went down the top of each sleeve even if the sleeves only reached his elbows, his face shockingly youthful and a head of the golden blonde hair he was well associated with.

Romulus Augustus and several other names that I honestly didn't know. He was a Cesar... apparently. I imagine if Cesar had royal blue blood this boy's blood would be a pale sky blue at best, as his relative to the Cesars was thin some even doubted if he had any at all. But supposedly he was the last living Cesar, he was sworn in as emperor when he was only a boy and his parents were killed not long after.

I suppose in another world the young emperor may not have lasted long perhaps overthrown by another or raised merely as a political show with the senate in true control. But that was not the world we live in. He was sworn in as a child, raised in secrecy and spoiled beyond measure. And because of that or perhaps just because, he was cruel. He was known in the city for Being mercilessly cruel, oftentimes your life would hang in the Balance of his childish whim, his name was known and feared across the empire for his downright evil tactics. And even guards and senate members knew better than to question him.

I had not been this close to him since his coronation when I saw him in the streets, but I was so scared my blood ran cold.

He had a small knife in his hand and was using it to file the nails on his other hand.

They brought a girl from the line directly In Front of the throne

"Your grace" the advisor began

"No" he snapped not even looking up

So they threw that girl to the side and brought the next one

"No" he snapped again not looking up from his nails

This went on until I was pulled In Front of him as scared as I was confused, and at that moment the advisor snapped

"Your grace!" He began "Forgive me, but we have been at this all day. Will you please at least look at them"

He pouted stuck his knife into the throne and turned to sit normally looking me up and down "No. Next"

"There is no next we've run through every girl in the city. You're having this one"

"You don't get to tell me what I am or am not doing!"

"Just look at her. Please"

He rolled his eyes getting up from the throne he came closer to me and paced around me like a hungry vulture,

"I don't like her"

"Perhaps you shouldn't have done that to your last one"

He turned sharply "She got what she deserved"

"Be that as it may"

"she's too chubby."

"she can be thinned"

"she smells funny"

"We can wash her"

"I don't like her hair"

"We can cut her hair"

"fine" he sighed returning to his throne "Show me her teeth" He demanded and the guard beside me grabbed my jaw hard forcing me to open my mouth and slow my teeth he rolled his eyes and sighed "Fine," He sighed "Lift her dress" He demanded and the guard let my jaw go grabbing the hem of my dress lifting it up to expose my pussy which made me scream covering myself up "Better then I expected" He smirked and the guard let me dress go "Alright. she'll do. Take her to the baths"

Immediately the guard grabbed my arms and forced me along with him no matter how much I protested

"What's going on? where are you taking me!"

"Quiet. You belong to the Emporer now" the guard told me 

They threw me into a hot steamy stone room with tall arched ceilings painted with gold, a few luxurious baths and waterfalls, along with areas to relax and a sauna in the corner, it even had a deck out to a garden with another hot spring pool with a waterfall of stone. They locked me here so I just took a seat and tried to come to terms with all that had happened.

Until the doors opened and the Emporer arrived and my blood again ran cold.

"Name?" he glared as he slammed the door shut

"I'm sorry"

"Okay," he sighed rolling his head back a little "First lesson. Do not make me repeat myself. Name. what is it?"

"Y/n y/l/n"

"Y/n. Fine. Take your clothes off and have a bath" He demanded as he slipped off his clothes leaving him utterly naked, his body as thin as I imagined but his erection half hard, I quickly looked away, I didn't want to argue and carefully slipped off my clothes and climbed into the water before he could see me

"What's going to happen to me?"

He sighed rubbing his eyes his arm leaned on the bath his body surrounded by the water"I will explain this, Once and only once." He says "Yes?"

"Yes Your Grace"

"Good girl, Now. Here's the deal. I get bored. This place is boring, the work is boring, it's just fucking boring so I need something to entertain myself or I'll end up killing somebody. So I need something to keep me entertained, And the advisors are constantly shitting themselves about bastards, terrified over another succession fight. So our way of dealing with this is they let me keep... a girl. For my amusement. You get room, food, and medical if needed."

"What would I have to do?"

"You do what I tell you. You belong to me body and soul. You do as I ask Without question. Without argument. silently if possible. You do as I say no matter what I say."

"And If I don't?" I asked

He smirked "Then I'll make you wish you were dead." He said "We clear?"

"Yes Your Grace" I nodded in fear

"Good girl," he smirked "Get out of the bath."

I didn't want to argue nervously getting up and climbing out of the bath using my hands to cover my body

"Hands," he demanded with a smirk

I gulped but took my hands away

"Humm. Not as nice as my last one. But... fantastic tits." He smirked "Jump up and down"

I sighed but did as he asked making him chuckle

"Good, here now" he smirked suggestively running his hand through the water so I moved climbing in and moving close to him, he smirked and grabbed my waist pulling me into his lap "I think you and I are going to have fun" he smirked

"I hope so your grace"

"ah ah" he warned "This mouth. Is for one thing and one thing only. My cock. if my cock isn't in your mouth it needs to be shut. I don't want your opinion. your conversation. or your goddamn voice. That mouth is for my cock and my seed nothing else. Understand"

"Ye-" I began but stopped short and simply nodded

"Good girl." he smirked his fingers dug into my skin as he turned and threw me against the edge of the bath I did my best not to complain as the edge hurt my stomach he grabbed my ass and dug his nails in tightly as he spread my cheeks as far as possible "Legs open" he demanded 

I bit my tongue and did as he asked me to, and he quickly forced himself inside me, I quickly put a hand over my mouth to prevent making any noise as he buried himself deep inside me almost enough to make me scream, he held me tight and moved fast and hard with very little concern for me even if it felt unbelievably amazing the sound of our skin connecting and water splashing I did my best not to squeal from the pleasure until he got slower and sloppier pulling himself out and forcing me to turn back to him my body sinking back into the water and he took his cock in his hand for a few strokes before he came sending his seed across my body immediately I grimaced at the substance now all over my body but he only smirked more seeming amused by my disgust

"Lick it."

"No-" I began

"Excuse me?"

"No, that's revolting!" 

"You belong to me. and if I say you do something you do it." 

"Yes your Grace" I sighed

"Now lick it off" He demanded 

I hated it but did as he asked licking and swallowing the horrible stuff as quickly as I could which only amused him more

"all of it" He demanded but I was perfectly clean I looked rather confused and he just glanced down at himself and the amount that remained on his shaft I did my best not to hurl but did as he asked licking it off and swallowing quickly even if I at one point gaged so hard my eyes welled with tears which made him chuckle "I own you girl. better get used to it" He smirked heading off to another part of the baths "Now clean yourself get that peasant stench off you" 

"Yes your grace" I sighed 

#thomas sangster #thomasbrodiesangster #tbs imagine #tbs imagines #thomas brodie sangster imagine #tbs smut #thomas sangster imagine #tbs #thomas brodie sangster #thomas brodie sangster smut

[blackjackkent]

An unexpectedly busy night. After the chaos of Wyll's transformation, when Hector finally finds his way to sleep...there's more waiting for him in his dreams.

"I promised I'd be back."

He is back in that strange, shifting landscape of void and rock. His visitor - his guardian - is standing looking out at the view, but turns to face him as soon as he stirs from his position on the ground.

"Don't worry," she says, that soft gentle tone that is so incongruous with the intimidating form she presents. "I have things under control, for now."

She watches as he stands; her eyes drift half-closed for a moment, then open wide with an expression of disappointment. "You haven't been using the parasite's power. You think you don't need it. But things haven't gone as you expected." She begins to pace restlessly back and forth before him. "You hoped a druid as powerful as Halsin might be able to remove your tadpole - but he couldn't. You're desperate to be rid of it. Understandable, but you're looking for solutions in the wrong places."

"Tell me who you are," Hector demands. He has his voice this time, more solidly, and the question pours out at once. How can you ask me to make decisions without the information you clearly have?

The woman smiles with a touch of sadness, a touch of indulgence like a parent hearing the inconsequential questions of an anxious child. "It's complicated. But I'm an adventurer, just like you. Just like you, I was infected with a mind flayer parasite. Just like you, I seek to be free of it. But to do that, we'll need to think beyond local healers."

She takes a step closer to him, looks intently into his eyes - his right eye, where the parasite squirms as if aware of the scrutiny. "Your parasite is unusual," she says flatly. "It is wrapped in magic that prevents its removal. Until the source of the tadpole's magic is destroyed, any attempt to remove it will kill you. You were lucky that Halsin knew this. His instincts were right."

Drawing back again, she looks over her shoulder at the slowly shifting stars. "The parasites are merely a symptom of a greater sickness in Faerun."

"What is the sickness?" Hector presses fiercely, his frustration with the secrecy bleeding out in his tone. Answer me, damn you. No more riddles and half-truths...

But she shrugs again - and this time, it is perhaps not with deflection but true uncertainty.

"The Absolute's aims are not yet clear to me. But its progress towards domination is clear. These parasites are more than illithid spawn - they are vessels for control. The infected hear the voice of the Absolute and believe it to be a god. That is how the cult of the Absolute is spreading."

She looks to Hector, waits until he nods - yes, this agrees with what little he has managed to learn himself.

What she says next chills his blood.

"The highest of their rank, the True Souls, carry a tadpole just like yours. It is how they receive their orders. It is what makes them *obey*. When the order to transform is given, it will not be a matter of days - they will be mind flayers in an instant." Her jaw sets. "Were it not for my protection, so would you."

Hector shifts uncomfortably. He remembers the feeling of his bones moving under his skin, the fever and nausea, the call - the call that she stayed in another dream.

And yet there is so much he doesn't know. He remembers Wyll and Lae'zel's words of caution, Gale's skepticism. Is it possible this really is just a trick of the worm? To what end?

"Why should I believe you?" he finally asks slowly.

She smiles slightly, clearly aware of his caution, but shrugs again and gives the only answer she has - or at least the only one she is willing to offer him.

"Because we share a common cause and a common enemy. We are alike, you and I. I've been trying to escape from this evil for a long time. Once, I almost succeeded."

She frowns, shakes her head slightly as if trying to dislodge some uncomfortable memory, before continuing. "Now, through you, I've been given a new chance. You can go where I cannot. And I can protect you from that evil. If we work together, we may turn this around."

He has his mouth open to ask another question when she suddenly jerks back, turns her head listening to a sound he cannot hear. "Hells. They need me. I have to go."

Hector's frustration flares again. He has so much more he needs to ask, to understand. "What is going on over there?" he snaps.

She is unphased by his irritation; all her anxiety is for that unheard sound, that unseen threat.

"The power I use to protect you - I stole it from someone. They want it back." She turns away from him, sets herself in a battle stance. "I will hold them off for as long as I can, but sooner or later I will be worn down. You must discover the source of the magic that controls the parasites before that happens."

"But how--" he starts to say, but she cuts him off, the words tumbling over each other urgently.

"The cultists are gathering at Moonrise Towers. Use the powers your parasite gives you to convince them you are one of them. And when you find the source of their magic, destroy it."

"But--"

"Go!" She turns long enough to meet his eyes again, forceful and intent. "Our freedom depends on it."

He snaps awake in his bedroll in camp, aware suddenly of the crackling of the fire, the soft breaths of his companions, and all the questions in his mind. Every day, it seems, there are more of them.

#bjk plays baldur's gate 3 #hector carlisle