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#or if anyone else wants to run with it who's done a little more in-depth reading on the period
onboardsorasora · 2 days
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Something something Lewis and Daniel have been on and off fuck buddies. They don't talk about feelings but it's clear to anyone with eyes that some exist.
Daniel is a little more considerate to Lewis and his moods than he is with other people. Lewis always seems Daniel out first when he has good news or updates. As far as everyone is concerned- they're dating.
Anyway Lewis has been feeling like maybe he should say something, maybe make things a little more serious. Because he thinks maybe it's time to stop lying to himself.
But Daniel feels something serious happening, felt the shift. Has been seeing Lewis staring at him with weight in his eyes. Been noticing that Lewis has been spending a lot of time talking to other people.
He doesn't know what meaning is in the depths of Lewis' chocolate stare but Daniel is sure it can't be anything good. Lewis for sure is about to end things- because why wouldn't he? What reason does he have to keep this up, keep their whatever this is going? All Daniel does is have sex with him, make sure he has the brand of oat milk he likes in his fridge and that Roscoe's extra bed and bowls are accessible when they stay over.
So when Lewis puts his cup down on the table one morning while Daniel was eating his morning cereal, he didn't bother to try and tell himself that it felt serious. Final.
"you know I was thinking that we've been doing this a long time and maybe--" Lewis starts and Daniel stands up to go to the sink. Cuts him off.
"yeah it's probably like run it's course I guess?" Daniel said into the deep metal. His bowl sat silently in the bottom.
"what?" Lewis asked, stunned. But Daniel didn't try to parse it. He hadn't expected his chest to feel so tight.
"yeah like, isn't that what you're going to say? I mean it's probably best we cut it. We probably wouldn't be a good fit or something. I think we'd be terrible together or whatever." His hands weren't shaking where they clutched the sink.
"is that what you want? For us to..break up?" Lewis asked slowly, staring at the tense line of Daniel's back. He'd been thinking about how happy he'd been recently and it was George who pointed out that Daniel might have been the source. They've been doing this dance for so long that it was easy to forget that they weren't together.
Lewis wanted to change that to the positive. But he hadn't anticipated that maybe Daniel didn't feel the same.
"isnt that what you want?" Daniel turned on the faucet- aggressively flicking the handle upwards. The rush of water pressure was harsh.
"why won't you look at me?" Lewis looked down at his cooling cup. Flinching at the loud ting of the metal spoon falling into the bowl.
"just-- say what you're saying." Daniel exhaled turning off the faucet and wiping his hands in the terry cloth towel hanging from the stove.
"well if you want to end things so badly then sure." Lewis couldn't believe he'd gotten everything so wrong. He frowned, sad and disappointed that everything turned this way.
"yeah. Ok." Daniel cleared his throat when his voice cracked. He didn't acknowledge the thickness in his throat or the burning in his eyes. He just nodded to the sink and turned to leave the room.
"that's it?" Lewis' voice stopped him and Daniel whirled to glare red rimmed honey eyes at him. "Daniel?"
"it's what you wanted right?" Daniel snapped.
"what I wanted?" Lewis' eyes widened.
"yes! You think I haven't noticed the staring and the extra time apart. The calls taken in other rooms. It's fine- id been wondering-" Daniel snapped his mouth shut.
"I haven't been with someone else if that's what you're suggesting!" Lewis stood from his chair.
"I never said that?!" Daniel scraped at his wet eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie. He was just trying to get out of this with some dignity in tact. "But you're done with me-"
"who said that?" Lewis looked taken aback.
"you did!" Lewis walked over to where he still stood stiffly and Daniel watched him warily.
"that's not what I was saying." Lewis whispered. He grabbed Daniel's hand to find it shaking. "I love you."
Daniel inhaled sharply.
"I love you and I was thinking that we should make this official."
Daniel's breath shuddered out of his chest. "Why didn't you lead with that?!" He chastised.
"I didn't think you'd immediately like divert to breaking up!" Lewis defended.
"fuck!" Daniel sagged and rested his face into Lewis' neck. "I love you too." He mumbled.
"next time I'll lead with that." Lewis promised, squeezing his arms around Daniel's broad shoulders.
"yes please."
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shadowsong26x · 4 months
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So here's an alternate history thought...
I'm not sure I've ever come across this one before (and to be fair I don't know all the alternate history that's out there But).
This is about Edward II of England.
For those of you who don't know, he was some flavor of queer/MLM ((generally considered to be gay; I'm wary of putting specific labels on historical figures for a number of reasons, but that is I believe the general consensus as to his sexuality.))
He also had pretty awful taste in men.
Like, there were revolts against him over his favorites/boyfriends--not actually so much because they were dudes, but because he kept giving them properties and offices and so on. Also the Despensers in particular (probably only Hugh the Younger was his lover; but Hugh the Elder (his father) also got a lot of stuff) were just. Unpleasant Grasping Assholes.
Edward himself was also kind of an asshole.
Anyway, his first favorite was a man named Piers Gaveston. What records we have do seem to indicate that there was Genuine Affection between the two of them. But...well, the above problems applied; one of the most egregious examples was when Edward II married Isabella of France, it...like Gaveston's arms were everywhere; it basically read, according to contemporary accounts, more like a wedding feast for Edward and Piers than Edward and Isabella. Which, in addition to being a Bad Idea politically when celebrating a Political Treaty Marriage, is also just. Rude????
There's more, but that's the Relevant Background to this. Thing. that came into my brain.
And that is this:
What if Edward II did the Edward VIII thing--i.e., abdicated to be with Piers in a way he Could Not as king?
Edward had two half-brothers; the older was Thomas of Brotherton. What kind of king would Thomas I have been? What would all of this mean for the next two centuries of English (and French) history?
Does this alternate history novel already exist???
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wasawattpadkid · 1 year
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Housewife
Part - 8
Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?
Pairing: poly!ghostface x fem!reader
Warnings for this series: ⚠️graphic⚠️ murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating, canon typical violence, guns, suicide,
Part 1
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"Can this skirt go any lower?" You tugged at the fabric. "It can but any lower and your bush is likely to show." Tatum laughed fixing the skirt back where she had it. "Yeah no. I'm not wearing this. It doesn't fit anyways." She rolled her eyes grabbing your bell bottoms. "Okay then, wear these again but I'm going to pick out a shirt." Sydney was already changed. She was busy fixing her hair while you and Tatum fought over clothes. "Here." You changed into your pants and put on the crop top Tatum gave you. "Oh yeah this is 10 times better. Wait." She rummaged through her jewelry box handing you a gold chain necklace.
You pulled it on over your head and she just laughed. "No. Give it to me." She wrapped it around your exposed waist latching it behind you. "There, it's a belly chain." Of course she would have something with a name like that. "Now just fix your hair and we'll be ready to go." You walked into the bathroom with Sydney giving her a look. "Honestly you look really cute. Tatum likes to be a little over the top." She couldn't have warned you earlier? "Thanks." You quickly fixed your hair to the best of your ability.
Your lipgloss was sticky and your purse was light on your shoulder. Dewy looked you up and down quickly looking away when he realized what he was doing. "You kids ready?" He said as he looked around the room. "Let's go party!" Tatum shouted pulling you and Sydney to the car. Dewy barley had time to grab his keys. "Please don't drink too much tonight mom would flip if she found out." Tatum sighed. "I know Dewy thank you."
Dewy dropped you and your friends off at the grocery store leaving you to pick up some food. "Hey can you go grab the cheese dip?" Tatum asked you. "Sure thing." You walked through the store not sure where anything was. Hell you didn't even know what kind of cheese dip she wanted. You grabbed a random one hoping it would do the trick. "This work?" You met the two at the end of the isle. "Perfect." She sat the can in the cart along with other snacks. "Anything else?"
Once everything was paid for Dewy drove you and your friends to familiar house of Stu Macher. "Don't have too much fun." He said as you all jumped out bags in hand. "There's a lot of people here." You said a little anxious. "This is nothing you should've been at the pool party he threw sophomore year." The front door was wide open letting anyone in. You looked around the crowded house of inebriated teenagers. Tatum and Sydney walked with purpose towards the kitchen.
"Oh that's mature." Tatum said watching her boyfriend hold up a funnel that another boy was chugging a beer from. "You're late. The party's done started without you. My man." He high-fived the boy as he stood up. Sydney and Tatum shook their head with a laugh. "Damn I didn't know who you were for a second. Tatum you didn't say you were bringing Barbie to the party." Stu eyed you up and down but it made you feel gross. This outfit wasn't you and "Barbie" is not the nickname you unfortunately grew fond of.
"She cleans up nice doesn't she?" Tatum said proud of her work. "Hand me a beer." You said making Stu's smile fall just a bit. He knew he couldn't break character not when every little thing counted tonight. "One beer coming up." He turned grabbing an unopened bottle on the counter passing it to you. "You'll need this." He pitched you the bottle opener letting you pop the lid yourself. "Is Billy here?" Sydney asked looking at the crowd. "I sent him on a beer run so he'll be late." Sydney nodded deciding to find the nearest couch.
You took a swig of the disgusting liquid trying not to make a face. "Is it good sweetheart?" Stu teased knowing you'd never drank before. "It's great thanks." You said hoping to drink a couple more of those and speed up the night. Tatum soon dragged Stu away leaving you standing in the kitchen. "You're that chick that wears all that I love Lucy shit to school right?" Some asshole asked making you take a big swig of the fermented liquid. It was going to be a long ass night.
An hour passed with no sign of who you thought were your friends. The kitchen had cleared leaving you with a bunch of empty beer bottles that weren't yours. You were barley able to finish the one. "There you are I've been looking all over for ya." Your eyes were closed in all honesty they burned too much to stay open. Stu looked at your sleeping form quickly rewriting the plan. "Y/n?" He poked and shook you but you didn't utter a word praying for him to just leave you alone. "Works for me." He threw you over his shoulder similar to how he picked up Tatum earlier that day. Your purse strap drug into your neck as he held you upside down. All the kids were too excited to notice your limp body being carried around by the host. Quickly he laid you in the coat closet in a what he assumed was a drunken stupor.
It was a better idea than you getting hit in his book. He would hate if something actually bad happened to you. Stu shut the door and checked the time. "All right everybody curfew!" Stu shouted ushering everyone out of the home. "Tatum come on!" Sydney yelled to an almost empty house. "Do you know where she is?" Stu shrugged. "Nah I haven't seen her." Billy appeared at the front door on schedule. "Hmm what are you doing here?" Stu said his acting wasn't winning him any awards. "I was hoping I could talk to Syd alone."
"I'll tell you what why don't you guys go up to my parents room. You can talk or whatever." Stu clapped his hands suggestively. "Subtlety Stu you should look it up." Billy shook his head at his eager friend. Stu bit his lip in anticipation. "No, no he's right. We do need to talk." Sydney said holding out her hand. As Billy walked in he hit Stu in the groin playfully. "Ooh." Stu said in pain. Time went on, Tatum was still no where to be seen almost forgotten while Sydney and Billy holed up in the room upstairs. Stu laid out watching Halloween with some stragglers from the party.
Randy stood up pausing the movie. "There are rules to surviving a horror movie." He went on with his rant the crowd getting rowdy ever so often. "Alright I'm getting another beer you want one?" He asked randy as he walked towards the kitchen. "Yeah sure." Slowly Stu opened his eyes wide about to piss Randy off. "I'll be right back!" He said those forbidden words making everyone shout. "See you push the laws and you end up dead. Okay I'll see you in the kitchen with a knife." Randy proclaimed. Stu had no intention on going back into the living room.
Upstairs Billy started to put his shirt back on. "You okay?" He asked Sydney not really caring about her answer. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." She grabbed a hairbrush from the night stand brushing out her hair. "Where's the beer?" She asked as she pulled on her shoes. "What?" Billy asked fixing his shirt. "Well Stu said you were late to the party because he told you to go get beer. I was just wondering where it was because when I saw you, you were empty handed." Billy tied his shoes thinking of a quick answer. "I dropped it off in the garage."
Sydney shook her head to herself not believing him. "You don't think I'm the killer do you?" She breathed out a laugh turning to look at him. "No. I just think the timing is funny thats all. For you to show up at my place after Casey was murdered would be a pretty good alibi. Running out go murder people just to show up here with me after the fact. It would be smart that's all." Billy's eyes were hollowed of emotion as he starred at the woman he so despised. "Really?" His voice was flat different than just seconds ago. Slowly he stood up leaning on the bed with his hands. "What do I have to do to prove to you I'm not a killer?" His whole demeanor scared Sydney. "Oh my God." She said as everything seemed to make sense.
Sydney glanced up seeing the killer slowly come up behind Billy. "Huh?" He asked growing impatient. "Oh my God." She backed away terrified. "Sydney." Billy pleaded. "Billy watch out!" She cried watching her boyfriend get stabbed to death by the masked man. Sydney sobbed as Billy reached his bloody hand out whispering her name with what little air he had left. Ghostface chased after her all through the upstairs of the house. Luckily for the man under the mask it was his home. He knew the layout better than anyone. Sydney opened up the attic window screaming for help. She climbed through praying for someone to save her.
Ghostface grabbed her arm causing her to fall back off the roof and onto the boat. The wind was knocked out of her from the fall. As fast as she could Sydney rolled of the boat onto the ground. Looking up she could see her friend Tatum, hanging bludgeoned and bloody from the garage door. She couldn't bring herself to scream at the sight all she knew was she needed to run. Ghostface disappeared from the window running downstairs to see the coat closet door open with you no longer in it.
"Fuck." He cursed running outside to find Sydney. She had jumped into the news van screaming at the man inside that a killer was chasing her. The camera man stood with the door open waiting for the hidden camera placed by the News reporter to catch up showing where ghostface had went. As he turned around to look towards the house ghostface slit his throat like a warm knife through butter. Sydney screamed trying to shut the door but the man in the mask was faster. The hunting knife now wiped clean by the hygiene conscious killer stabbed the girls shoulder making her cry out.
Quickly she crawled through the van leaving ghostface behind. Dewy and the reporter ran towards the commotion hoping to help whomever needed it. Dewy wanted to save the day while his date wanted the notoriety from it. "Gale use the phone in the van and call for backup. I'm going inside." He said like a selfless hero not knowing what horrors awaited him inside. Gale saw the pool of blood quickly realizing she was in one of the many stories she's exploited. Without much thought she jumped in the driver's seat grabbing the phone.
"What's going on?" Randy asked being met with a phone to the face. She hit him several times till he eventually fell to the ground nose broken and bloody. She threw the phone starting the van instead. If she was saving anyone, it was going to be herself. Blood covered the windshield blocking the view of the road. Turning on the windshield wipers she gasped at the gorey scene. As she drove the car hitting the breaks, the body of her camera man slowly fell into view. She scream trying to fling him from the car. Just as he hit the ground Sydney ran out screaming bloody murder.
The van spun out of control off into the grass hitting a tree head on. Without checking on the driver Sydney ran back towards the house. Her screams stopped once she understood no one could hear her but the killer. She had lost all her friends. Billy, Tatum, and presumably you. She watched as Dewy stood at the front door. "Dewy!" She yelled thankful to have someone help fight off death himself. "Sydney?" He asked as he fell to the floor. The same hunting knife sticking from his back. "No, No!" She screamed watching ghostface pull the knife from his back.
Running back she shut herself into Dewy's car. Hitting a button to lock all the doors. Sydney searched for a key but it was nowhere to be found. Turning to her left she saw the killer shake the keys taunting her. He dropped to the ground out of eyesight. The doors all unlocked at once leaving her to quickly manually lock them back. Seeing the radio on the dash she grabbed the mic clicking the button on. "Hello! Help me please I'm at Stu Macher's house on turner lane. That's 261 turner lane please he's gonna kill me-"
Ghostface grabbed her by the neck but Sydney quickly flipped around kicking him repeatedly. She fell out of the car running to grab Dewy's gun. "Sydney!" Randy screamed. "Sydney, Jesus we need to get the fuck out of here!" She cocked the gun ready to fire if need be. "Stop right there!" Her words were deadly. Stu came from the left gaining up on the limping Randy. "It's him Syd." Stu said distraught. "He killed Billy, you killed my friend!" Randy inched closer making Sydney back up into the open house. "You did." Randy said and Stu yelled back "You killed him!" Stu cried.
"I didn't." Randy defended himself as Stu threw him to the gravel. "Sydney baby please give me that gun. Give me the gun it's him I swear." Stu cried with outreached arms. "Fuck you both!" She spit as she slammed the door in their faces. Stu and Randy beat on the door trying to convince Sydney to open it. "Go away!" She sobbed. Billy crawled to the steps in pain. "Syd?" She gasped as her boyfriend fell down the steps. "Oh my God!" She helped him up as he mumbled almost incoherently.
Billy inched his way to the door. "No the killer's out there!" Sydney warned. "Give me the gun. Give me the gun it's okay." His voice was clearer now lacking the debilitating pain that was evident moments ago. "It's okay." He whispered taking the gun from his girlfriend. He opened the door letting Randy run in. "Woah woah get in." He said looking around outside before shutting the door. "Stu's flipped out. He's gone mad." Randy said scared out of his mind. "We all go a little mad sometimes." Billy delivered his line shooting Randy for dramatic effect.
Sydney cried running to Randy's aid. Scratching his head with the barrel of the gun Billy spoke. "Anthony Perkins, Psycho." Sydney stood up looking at the stranger she's known for years. Sucking the fake blood from his finger tip he smiled. "Corn syrup, the same stuff they used for pigs blood in Carrie." The tired girl stumbled backwards mumbling small protests trying to tell herself this wasn't real.
Stu stood in the doorway to the kitchen looking just as upset as Sydney. She covered her face next to his chest seeking refuge. "Stu... Help me please." She pleaded. Slowly he revealed that little box that has helped end so many lives. "Surprise Sydney."
It was freezing outside but you've been through worse. Slowly you crept around the house trying to find a way in. The front door was opened a brunette walking slowly into the house. You watched as she quietly picked up the gun sitting on the counter. "I'm feeling woozy here!" Stu said in distress having more life threatening wounds than his partner. Billy and Stu turned towards the sound of a pained gasp. They watched as Gale Weathers and the gun hit the floor. "Y/n?" Stu asked as you stared shocked at what you'd just done. "She was going to shoot you."
"Y/n please help they're crazy!" Sydney cried out. "You had one fucking job Stu!" Billy yelled. "Give me the knife Y/n and I won't hurt you." Billy watched the facade fall. Like a scene in a play, the act was over. "Are you serious? You won't hurt me?" Both the boys were obviously confused not knowing what to do next. "Billy Loomis. You really don't remember me do you?" He cocked his head to the side not wanting to do this right now. "I'm not playing your silly game-" You picked up the gun switching the safety off.
"Shut the fuck up. I'm done hearing you talk. Bossing people around thinking you know everything. You don't know shit." Stu looked genuinely scared while Billy was just amused. "Middle school was hell for me. I was being beat up and mistreated every, fucking, day. Until one day you stood up for me. Broke the assholes nose who was trying to pull off my shirt, do you remember that?" His eyes lit up remembering that day very vividly. That was the first time he had ever hit someone. "I fell in love with you that second. You cared about me enough to stop the endless cycle of hate that was putting me on the fast track to an early death."
"I didn't even know you. Any guy would stop something like that." You laughed at that. "You'd be surprised. The teachers I came crying to didn't give two shits, my own fucking family told me just to "stand up for myself or grow a backbone" and things like this wouldn't happen. Is it so wrong to need someone's help?" Stu shook his head as if you were directing this whole thing towards him. "Do you remember what you did the week afterwards?" You asked Billy.
His brain frantically searched for some semblance of a memory. "No I don't." He replied honestly. "Well before school started I walked up to you and your friends. I told you that I liked you and wanted to take you out sometime. The old fashioned way. Your friends laughed because they knew me as the push over slut bag everyone took me for. But you." You pushed the gun forward gritting your teeth. The pain of it all coming right back to you like it happened yesterday. "You were different, you stood up for people. You were a hero, my hero. So what did you do? You saw your friends laughing and felt embarrassed. You laughed in my face calling me a "crazy bitch.""
"And you're not?" Billy snapped feeling like a fly caught in a web. You laughed. "What does all this make you Einstein. News flash you're not Norman Bates. You're just a man. That's scarier than every monster on the screen." You paced back and forth never taking an eye off anyone in the room. "Just give this up the cops are on their way I called them." Sydney cried making both the boys panic. "Did you check the cord to the radio Syd? I cut it after you took a little hike. Anyways where was I?" You tapped the tip of the knife in your other hand to your chin in thought. Sydney spewed curse words at you but you had bigger fish to fry.
"That's right. You laughed but that wasn't enough for you, no. You told your friends you slept with me and they told their friends, eventually everyone knew me as a whore. Funny thing is I had never done a sinful thing in my life. I was just a kid who wanted someone to care about me! To protect me in a way I couldn't protect myself." Tears fell from your eyes but you weren't crying. "I left my grandparents house moving away with my dad. It wasn't until I saw the headline "local woman murdered viciously in Woodsboro" that I came up with a plan."
Sydney hung her head loudly sobbing. "I saw a picture of You and Sydney and it all came back to me. You were good once Billy I could see that from the moment I met you but something rotted inside of you and don't you dare blame it on her or her mother." You pointed towards Sydney. "I dyed my hair, changed the way I dressed, the way I talked, the movies I liked, everything I made specifically for you. And it worked! Your sorry ass fell for it. Everything you thought you knew about me was a lie."
"You called Sydney..." Stu said in astonishment. This should scare him but it didn't in the slightest. Stu realized he had been looking up to the wrong person all along. "I did! That night at my house I put Zolpidem in your food. You two were too busy staring at my ass to notice. While you were both dead asleep I used the voice box I stole from Stu's home Wednesday night to call Sydney. Oh but how did I know about your little plan you ask? Well while I was roaming through your house that night I found the ghostface costumes and your little voice boxes. And Stu baby, you had your whole plan written down in your diary."
Billy's eyes widened with rage. "Don't look at him like that Loomis." You snapped at the boy grabbing his attention once again. "This is about you and me. All I wanted was to take care of you and when I found out you and Stu were a package deal I was down for double the chores. Cooking, cleaning, sewing, the works. I thought we could be our own fucked up nuclear family. But you can't do a damn thing right. I've got yet another mess to clean up." You gestured around to the blood splattered kitchen.
"Like I said before men are cocky. They go in and they play around. So I'll give you a choice Billy. You can finish this." You waved the gun at Sydney and her father causing her to cry out begging you to stop. "Sydney this has nothing to do with me. I'm here on personal business. Now either take care of this and we three walk out of here alive or I'll take care of it and be the sole survivor of the Woodsboro massacre."
"You're one sick bitch you know that?" Billy spat as he picked up his knife. "Yeah well we all have our flaws." You look over at Stu watching him go in and out of consciousness. "Stu get up and come with me honey." Slowly the injured man limped over to you. "I'm going to check his wounds. Don't think you're smarter than me cause you're not. Finish what you started." You walked Stu into the living room sitting him down on the couch. The sounds of Sydney's screams piercing your eardrums. You lifted his shirt seeing how many stabs wounds he had and where. "Why are you doing this?"
"Love makes you do crazy things Stuart. Now, most of these wounds should be fine but the one by your stomach looks really deep so I want you to put pressure on it." Sydney's screams stopped as you continued to help Stu. "I want you to know what you did here tonight was really fucking stupid." You said a little disappointed in your easily manipulated friend. Stu started crying pulling you into a bloody hug. "I just wanted to start over." You knew how that felt. "We will." You whispered as you pulled away. "Keep putting pressure." You reminded as you stood up.
Walking back into the kitchen you saw Sydney's lifeless body. "Okay before you kill him," You pointed towards the tied up man. "You need his DNA under her finger nails. Did she scratch you at all?" Billy shook his head. You leaned down grabbing her hand forcing her nails across her father's skin. "She doesn't look like she put up a fight." Billy quipped acting like a detective all of a sudden. "The moment she saw it was her father she would put her guard down a little thinking she could somehow talk him out of it. This is fine, take care of him and I'll make sure she's dead." You walked towards Gale hearing her ragged breath. "I'm sorry. I couldn't let you hurt them." You apologized before stabbing her once more.
Billy smiled at the words you thought he couldn't hear. He thought you were crazy and you certainly were but you were crazy for him. You could've turned them both in and saved yourself some time yet here you were helping out. Not cause your sick and love to kill. But because you loved them. You were protecting them, the one thing you wanted for yourself that's why you were so mad.
"Give me the gun and leave I don't want you to see this." You laughed rasing your voice slightly to ask Stu a question. "Stu, honey where do you keep your dish towels?" Stu answered with what little energy he had left. "Thanks." You walked over the corpse in the floor grabbing a red colored dish cloth. The gun was soon wiped clean of your finger prints. "Prop him up in the corner when you do it, make sure to keep the towel around the gun when you fire. After that put it in his grip. Do you know if he's right handed or left?" Billy just looked at you stupid making you face palm.
"Which wrist is his watch on?" Billy crouched rolling the man over as he yelled against duck tape. "Left." Billy stood back up waiting for your directions. "Okay so he's right handed. Don't fuck this up Billy." You handed him the gun wrapped in the rag. "We don't have much time. Speed this up." You stood waiting for him to finish it. "Please leave. Just go watch Stu. I don't want you to see this." You didn't understand the change in heart considering the amount of blood on every surface in this house and the body laying at your feet. Billy however actually listened to what you said. You'd never been taken care of and he was going to right his wrongs. He would fix this.
Stu would get his sequel, rom com or not and you would get the security you always wanted. "Okay but don't pull any shit or I'll kill you." Billy laughed at an incredibly inappropriate time. "Understood." You walked into the room with Stu noticing he was asleep. "Fuck. Wake up babe." You shook the boy slowly getting a response. "Hey come on I'm going to take you outside the cold air might help you stay away." Stu mumbled a response as you dragged him outside.
Stu jumped at the sudden gunshot making him cry once more. Blood loss sure does make a person emotional. "Hey, hey, shh. I'm right here." His head rested on your chest as you rocked him back and forth. "My mom and dad are gonna be so mad at me." He cried and you giggled. "Nobody's going to find out. It's okay." Billy stepped outside looking at the two of you huddled together. "Y/n?"
"Yeah what's up?" You asked laying Stu down on the porch. "I need help cleaning some stuff up." That's what you were good at. Quickly you got rid of some evidence, cleaned some things, and now came time for more blood. "The rags around it just stab me right here." You pointed to the spot knowing it wouldn't do much damage. Billy held your knife with a now shaky hand. "I can't." You scoffed. "You threatened to hurt me earlier just do it." He shook his head. "I can't hurt you." This conversation was starting to piss you off. "That's bullshit you've hurt me before just fucking stab me already."
"I won't." He said through gritted teeth. "You said everyone has a reason for doing something. I had my reasons for killing whether you think they're bullshit or not is irrelevant. I've got a reason to change now, to be better." You rolled your eyes grabbing the wrapped knife. "Where did you get that thing anyway?" Billy asked pointing to the exact same knife they had. "I just bought the same one that Stu had stashed at his place. It fit in my purse so the rest is history." You held the knife where you wanted it before running right into a wall lodging the knife deep within your skin. "Mother fucker!" You screamed at the pain.
"Why the fuck would you do that?" He said shocked by what just happened. "We've got to convince everyone we are the victims. Neil is a big guy he's killing everyone I'm not an exception." Billy cursed under his breath. "You are the smartest dumb woman I've ever met." Billy pulled the knife from your side making you cry out and hit the floor. Billy's hand rested on your forehead not really sure how to comfort you. "Just breathe?" He asked making you laugh through the pain. "I'm not in labor asshat go put his fingerprints on the knives while I call 911." Billy didn't move. "Now." You said trying to lift yourself up. He stood helping you up to your feet.
Billy laid the one weapon next to Sydney making sure to put Neil's finger prints on it. While the other fit in his pocket. "Now go lay somewhere and don't fall asleep. After all of this you can't die on me." You told him as you picked up the phone. "911 what's-" You coughed into the phone cutting the woman off. "Please help me!" You cried making it sound like you didn't have much time left. "What's your location ma'am?" Fuck you didn't know Stu's address but then again why would you. "I don't know... I- I went to a party with my friends and everyone's dead." You cried throwing in moans of pain. "Are there any mailboxes or road signs around?"
"I've been stabbed..." You said quietly actually getting light headed. "Ma'am I need you to stay with me is there a mailbox or road sign around?" She repeated being absolutely useless. You thought back to when you met them for the first time. Things were simple then. The drive over with Stu laughing and cracking jokes, and Billy spent the whole ride brooding trying not to laugh at your jokes. You could barley remember the bent up road side. "Turner lane." You said as you dropped the phone landing right beside it. "Ma'am? Ma'am are you there?"
Billy laid in the kitchen floor just a little away from the two corpses. As he looked up at the ceiling his body started to ache even more now that the adrenaline was wearing off. He had been selfish he realized that now. Billy had two wonderful people who loved and cared for him and he did nothing but use the both of you. He was going to change he swore on it. That sickening feeling of fear crept into his stomach once again at the thought of something happening to you or Stu. You may have lied to him. One could say he didn't know the real you at all. You were a first for Billy, you were the first person to scare him, the first person to stand up to him, and the first person he truly wanted to save.
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(If your name has a line through it Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you.)
Part 9
Taglist: @katie-tibo @agustdeeyaa @bowlofceral @gonnapermashift @tati-the-fangirl @kozumewhore @tatijoestar @illyanam1011 @c4rved-pumpk1n @msghostface @gojosbucket @sammanna @lokigirlszendaya @reneki @fetusharryluvr @kadu-5607 @pumpk1n-writes @lovekeeho @tojisblood @zeysartzone @bluedevilss @life-of-music3 @flyestvenustrap @littleblondesoprano @imobsessedreader @loomiscorpse @nicciekawegosblog @reneemunson @miss-puregotti @ksgsfsgaj @zoleea-exultant @briefwinnerpersonaturtle @mistydreamscape @l4venderia @nex-crowley @ashreblogsnow @brynaa223 @your-desire666
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meanbossart · 2 months
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Lore Ask Compilation: "Every Other Question Is About The Drow's Dick" edition
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Oh I LOVE Minthara, her dialogue is absolutely fascinating and in my opinion some of the best written In the game. Experiencing her in my Evil Durge playthrough without having been spoiled to her companion scenes prior was great - the amount of depth they managed to add to her, without it at all feeling forced or rushed, and considering how much less time she gets to develop at our side is really well done. While nearly everyone's quests had me immersed, she was one of the few characters who really made me pause and think about the things she had to say to me, what she truly meant by them, and what they meant for me as an avatar doing an evil run.
We have a lot of characters in this game that are meant to be full of wisdom and experience, who are meant to be the ones who say the right thing at the right time that inspires us to make the correct choices, but I don't think either Halsin or Jaheira (and I love Jaheira) made me feel like I knew so little about life quite as Minthara did.
And, of course, she's absolutely hysterical. 10/10 I wish she had a proper companion quest past being rescued but I understand why she doesn't.
[MORE ASKS UNDER THE CUT]
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It doesn't connect to the urethra since the slit in on top, so he nuts and pisses normal.
Also you 100% are not sorry, stop lying to me.
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Man, I thought a lot about this one because I play so fast and loose with the content the game gives us that I'm positive there must be SOMETHING I'm completely disregarding, but I couldn't think of anything! I've chosen to pick slightly less obvious interpretations to some lines and text but nothing that completely deviates from canon, I don't think. If anyone has noticed something I neglected to mention, feel free to let me know - not because I want to revise it, but just because I'm curious!
For the second part of the question, not really. Larian did a great job of giving us plenty of room to play around in the dark urge's background, I think I'm yet to see something that I find to truly "not fit" in the ample freedom they've given us. I have my preferences, of course - I'm shocked to find that most dark urge's are NOT big hulking beasts, for example - in fact that seems to be the minority by far, but I realize that I have my... Uh... Biases.
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You can see a cute little divot through the fabric if you look closely LOL
And nah, I think his penis has seen enough sharp points for a lifetime.
Well.
Unless someone decided to add some bite-marks to it.
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HMMM, I... Don't think so.
He didn't cry as a baby, he didn't cry as a child (and this isn't something I just decided on now - this is a major reason why his foster drow mother even kept him around) he didn't really cry growing up or at any point during the campaign. I think he is capable of it - sadness in him just tends to be far more confusing a feeling than anything else.
He will have emotional moments in ANE, whether or not that will culminate in crying is something you will have to wait to find out LOL
Astarion has noticed this and just took it as a character trait - the drow doesn't cry, he just gets confused, angry, frustrated or simply bottles it up. While he can be demanding of his emotional maturity, he isn't going to try and dictate how he should experience his own feelings. If it did happen it would definitely catch him majorly off-guard, perhaps even shift the perception he has of him to a certain extent.
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Oh my god you just know they All managed to be utterly quiet about it for as long as humanly (and unhumanly) possible until like, I don't even know, halfway through the Shadow-cursed lands where one day Karlach finally turns back to the group around the campfire after a half-nude drow has strut past and she's like "SO
"DOES ANYONE KNOWS WHY HIS DICK HAS A SNATCH"
And Wyll is like :0... Karlach you can't just ask people that.
And then she pointedly turns to Astarion and starts trying to interrogate him on how it works while Gale covers his ears and Shadowheart is like:
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This is gonna blow you guys backwards but he does not do those things in front of people and thinks its rude if you do.
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HMMM Mostly physically but it's a little subtle. He really enjoys interacting with Astarion's (and previously Orin's) hands - kissing, holding, caressing. Touching hair and faces as well. He can engage in more overt physical affection but usually Astarion has to be the one to initiate.
A disarmingly earnest proclamation of love and adoration here and there as well - he isn't shy in the slightest to tell people how he feels about them, he just isn't constantly reminding them of it unless inspiration strikes.
Most of all I think he expects his loved-ones to see his care for them in his tendency to go out of his way to help them achieve their goals.
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He went with them to the Shadow-cursed lands but I never helped him fix the curse, so he stayed behind when the gang went onwards to the city. DU Drow didn't really like him so it was good-riddance as far as he was concerned.
If he had come along and propositioned him during act 3 - uh, you know the really mean rejection line you have as a choice during that dialogue? Yeah, that one lmao.
Alas, DU drow is just monogamous. He could entertain group-sex with a partner for fun at the most, but not ever a third person in the relationship. And In my personal interpretation (but by all means - everyone else have fun with their poly arrangements!) of Astarion and his delivery of the "this is about Halsin" line, I also thought he was lying about being comfortable with it, so I write him as monogamous as well.
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Nothing. Nada. Not a thing. Say what you'd like about Bhaal but he sure knows how sculpt them out of his murder-meat.
(Thank you!!!)
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neerons · 11 days
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Some of Clavis Lelouch’s best quotes + Cyran's bonus quotes
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"Tell me, Emma, what do you think is the best way to wake someone who's really bad at waking up? (...) That's right, you stab them." (—Clavis talking about Chevalier to Emma)
"Finding such a handsome man in your room is enough to leave anyone breathless. Take your time. I know I'm easy on the eyes. (...) Oh, nice reaction! There's nothing like a good AHHHHH to get me in the mood."
“I didn’t do anything. But next time, don’t be intimidated by these status-crazed nobles. You don’t owe them anything—not even a smile. If someone looks down on you, look down on them in return. Otherwise, your self-worth will start to plummet. Never abandon your self-respect just to calm the situation. I know you’re a wonderful person—I wouldn’t have chosen you as my wife if not.”
"You succumbed to delusion."
"You weren't paying any attention to me at all. I got so lonely, I almost died!"
"...I want to make love to you."
"I'll tell you a secret about Chevalier. You want to know right? I bet you do. (...) He likes romance novels, but the reason for that is... Me. (...) One day, I secretly added to his pile of books... I put a book that boasted its dewy, spicy romance in the pile."
"Haha! When you're as handsome as I am, you look good no matter what state you're in. You just need better understanding of aesthetics." (—Clavis to the "Obsidianite soldier")
"Haha! You don't need to apologize. Who says only kids are allowed to be bouncy? What's wrong with adults being genuine about loving the things they love?"
"Oh, the things you say! Don't you realize you threaten to unleash the beast that hides behind this gentleman's visage?" (—Clavis' thoughts about Emma)
"What a fool I was to think I was done falling in love with you. The depths I could fall for you seem endless."
“We can do it on the table, or by the windowsill again, if you like. Ah, but I don’t recommend the floor—not unless you’re into that.”
"Wait, wait, wait! (...) Chevalier, you cannot possibly be trying to replace the words 'I love you' with that one kiss. (...) Why else would Emma have dressed up so beautifully? It's all so she can hear you say those three words! (...) Yes, not all things need to be said, but there is a purpose in giving words to feelings. That's how you can bring them into the real world. Chev, you can't let Emma guess how you truly feel forever. Just tell her. (...) The average person can't read minds like you do. Don't assume that Emma knows everything just because you do." (—Clavis to Chevalier, in Chevalier's route)
"I would never allow my lovely fiancee to live a life of fear. And so I must take it upon myself to indulge her in a life of joy." (—Clavis' thoughts about Emma)
"I'm charming, aren't I?"
"Here you are, alone in a secret room with a handsome prince. Why are you only interested in those lifeless husks? (...) That's a little offensive, you know."
"Haha! Go to hell." (—Clavis to Chevalier)
"Goodness, I've never visited that bookstore, and to think it was hiding a gem all this time..." (—Clavis' thoughts about Emma)
"Dear me, it looks like they started running the second they spotted me. Haha! That's optimistic of them. " (—Clavis talking about Yves and Licht to Emma)
"You could at least call it artistic. My handwriting conceals talent that would surpass that of a genius artist. (...) It's readable. So long as you take the time to decode it! Haha!" (—Clavis to Jin)
"Ah... Hahaha! I can't believe you headbutted me! You should've slapped me, at least."
"There's no rule that says you have to drink alcohol once you come of age. That said, it might be more romantic to let you get drunk and then take care of you until you sober up. Wait here, I'll just get some—"
"Of course, I'm not trying to criticize your own personal standards for good and evil. But throughout our lives, we're constantly being confronted by our perceptions of good and evil. And there are times when we might regret it later, if we decide to be critical of something simply because 'it's evil'. Our own individual standards for good and evil may not always be aligned with the kingdom's standards for good and evil. And if that happens, wouldn't you want to remain true to your own standards? To what you believe is good and right?"
"So you're comfortable drinking. I'll keep that in mind." (—Clavis' thoughts about Emma)
"(...) I'm well aware that of all the princes, I was the one most loved by his mother. Although I suppose it's not really a surprise, given how adorable and cute I was. (...) Haha! Why are you apologizing? There's no rule that says we can't talk about the deceased. And there's no need to feel guilty, either. I'm not some silly child who gets all worked up just from thinking about her." (—Clavis talking about his mother to Emma)
"I love drawing attention to myself, you know that. I wanted everyone in the palace talking about me, so I made it seem as if I'd gone missing." (—Clavis to Sariel)
"...You're surprisingly sweet on Emma, aren't you?" (—Clavis to Chevalier)
"Well obviously, because I like rabbits. And from what I know of rabbits... They may seem aloof, but they're actually very sweet and loving, and if you're lucky, they'll even let you see that side of them. I think they're adorable. And despite being delicate and easily frightened, they won't run from anything—they'll stand their ground and put on a brave face. I can't think of any other creature that instills in me such an urge to protect them. You see? Everything about them is lovable." (—Clavis talking about Emma secretly)
"But that's why Rhodolite is so well-balanced. If we all agreed with Leon, the kingdom would constantly be in danger from outside. If we all agreed with Chevalier, it would end up a dictatorship."
"You're about the only person who willingly visits the brutal beast's lair."
"Just so we're clear, this doesn't even count as a setback to me. I've tasted defeat countless times at the hands of a brother more beastly than anyone in Obsidian. I've never once made the right choice. I'm a loser, constantly making mistakes, and constantly being laughed at for them. (...) When you fail, it's easy to give up. It's easy to think your ideas are wrong, and yield to the right choice. But this is what I do. Every time I fail, I get up again, and I fight even harder, so that next time, maybe I won't fail. I don't care about what's right for the kingdom. I stay true to what's right for me, and that's the only way I've found any meaning in my life. Even if what I believe to be right and true is actually wrong, and even if I'm called evil and wicked for doing what I do... I'll fight against the brutal beast's methods with everything I have in me. And I'm not going to die until I've made him kneel before me, and accepted that my beliefs are just as righteous as his are. (...) And since I've spent my life tasting nothing but defeat, I think I can declare this with some certainty. So long as you go on living, you'll never really be a loser. Because there is no such thing. Even if you lost this time, you just have to win next time to be the winner. And if nothing else, you'd be able to die a prouder man than you will now. (...) Today's failures will lead you to tomorrow's hope. Always, as long as you don't give up. And that's why I'm going to get up and try again. What about you? Are you going to die a dog's death here?" (—Clavis to the "Obsidianite soldier")
"What a shame... Were my hands not bound right now... I'd already be making love to you."
"Haha! Not a chance. I adore her." (—Clavis denying disliking Emma to Gilbert)
Cyran's bonus quotes:
"(...) Prince Clavis lies incessantly, so feel free to ignore everything he says. (...) Everything. You've no need to be worried about his feelings, or even keep him company. And it might be in your best interests to refuse to eat any of this." (—Cyran talking about Clavis and his cooking to Emma, in front of Clavis)
"You're still half-asleep, aren't you? You're a disgrace." (—Cyran to Clavis)
"When we finally catch up to him, I think we should team up and give him a good scolding!" (—Cyran talking about Clavis to Emma)
"Since you left me behind like that, I've decided to hold a grudge against you forever. (...) Do it again and I'll throttle you, master or no. Just so you know." (—Cyran to Clavis)
"My Lady, I'm afraid that Prince Clavis's plan is truly stupid. A prince in his right mind would never even plan such a thing, and the average person would recoil in shock at the very idea of it."
"Prince Clavis, you can't just go casually tossing your head in her lap like that. My Lady, you're more than welcome to slap him awake at this point."
"(...) despite all that, there was one fool prince who stormed into the camp where the prisoners were being held. Yep, I'm talking about the idiot prince currently sleeping like a babe in your lap."
"From the way he acts, it's easy to mistake him for a fool and a scoundrel, but... at heart, he's the kindest, most compassionate man I've ever met." (—Cyran talking about Clavis to Emma)
"...So where is he, this handsome man? (...) ...You're a total mess right now, you realize. You look dreadful. Want me to get you a mirror?" (—Cyran to Clavis)
"My Lady, I truly am sorry, but... I've been ordered to inform you that, and I quote, 'your prince is in grave danger and needs you to rescue him! Ahaha'! (...) ...He insisted I include the 'ahaha' at the end." (—Cyran delivering a message from Clavis to Emma)
"Very well. I'll inform him that you said to die in pain and agony." (—Cyran talking about Clavis to Chevalier)
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booksandpaperss · 10 months
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How Stranger Things (poorly) handles racism as a topic compared other heavy topics it successfully tackles
before we get started, I would to direct you all to some other accounts who have already discussed this that you should check out either before or after reading this post: @wewebaggit @googoogagaeyes @elekinetic and anyone else please feel free to tag yourself or another account that’s discussed this and I’ll happily boost it
Content Warning for in show examples of racism and discussions of racism, as well as mentions of homophobia and the AIDES epidemic
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. While we're discussing historical accuracy in stranger things and homophobia + ignorance being present even in well meaning characters, I want to point out that if the writers of the show weren't so squeamish about addressing racism in any in depth way, than this type of historical accuracy would be for racism too.
what I mean by this: in this sense, the show is not consistent. It's clear that the writers have done their research on 80s homophobia and how openly prevalent it was, if the AIDES allegory in season 2 and the way homophobia was very clearly present in seasons 1 and 2 (it still is in seasons 3 and 4 but the first 2 seasons showed it in the scope of the entire town), but racism was just as overtly prevalent, and yet the writers have neglected to address it in the same thoughtful and coded way. if the show was just as consistent about racism as it is about homophobia, than the white characters would be at the very least shown as ignorant just like the straight characters are.
and I'm not going to say that it's completely ignored, because that's not true:
-in season 2; mike makes an ignorant comment that implies Lucas should have been Winston because he's black, and Lucas calls him on it. There's also the very racist undertones (that are practically overtones) of Billy's treatment of Lucas. -There is almost nothing in season 3 except for a jokey joke when Nancy says the whole party is her family and the receptionist, who is a black woman, gives Lucas a skeptical look.
-Season 4 is a little better, with the implications (key word: implications, I'll come back to that in a moment) of Lucas's season 4 arc being that he was trying to fit in because he didn't want to be racially targeted and bullied for being a nerd at the same time anymore, that he felt like even more of an outsider compared to the rest of his otherwise all white friend group who, as far as he knows, are all cishet and giving him shit for wanting to lessen how much he's perceived as an outsider because he's automatically seen as even more of a "freak", and his friends just weren't getting it because they were white and ignorant. So the writers aren't blind to race and racism.
However. None of the examples that I've just listed are addressed later in any in depth way; not like the homophobia is. The only one that's even remotely delved into instead of simply being glossed over is Lucas's s4 arc, and even that is still very flitted around and left up to interpretation of the audience.
The writers seem to have a very "hit and run" sort of policy with addressing racism. They clearly know they should, and they at least seem to know that having a black character in an 80s setting with a cast of mostly white characters inherently creates a lot of racial subtext-
-for example, the very loud subtext of Jason (a white boy much older than Lucas) seeing Max (a white girl) in a trance alone with Lucas (a black boy) and immediately assuming the worst + Jason's white friends tackling an 11 year old black girl to the ground: subtext that I'm still not sure if the writers and directors were even aware of bc they never addressed it and their track record isn't great-
-but they hardly do anything about it.
I'm not surprised, considering this show is headed by two white men, but what really gets me is that they all truly could have tried harder. Like I said earlier, it's clear they've done research and put thought into addressing homophobia (it still could've been handled better but that's an entirely different conversation), and it's evident from Max's s4 arc that they also did research on Depression, PTSD, and the impacts on someone of their abusive family member dying. So the lack of care and thought put into addressing racism in the same way is clearly more than ignorance (which would still be bad, when you're writing a show this big in 2023 with topics like this you're actually, shocker, responsible for making sure they're addressed properly, ignorance is a choice at that point), its just fucking lazy. they don't care. And this not caring is inherently harmful on a show this big and frankly, I'm tired of so many viewers and people in this fandom straight up ignoring this fact, just like the show runners.
And I haven't even covered the complete lack of effort put into Patrick's backstory, or the fact that Erica is very much the sassy, mature for her age black girl stereotype (she deserves so much better). Oh, And we can’t forget the copaganda.
I'm glad that season 4 started to explore the dynamic between Lucas and Erica and expand on both their characters, and from the looks of things that will continue in season 5, so the writers have a chance to do their research, actually put effort more effort into the sinclair sibling’s characters, and improve, and I'm hoping they will but as of right now I don't trust them to, and won't unless they prove me wrong.
TDLR; the main issue is that Stranger Things is clearly a show that addresses topics like depression, abuse, homophobia, and racism, but the racism part is neglected compared to the others, just like how Lucas and Erica's characters are handled poorly compared to the white characters,. it's lazy, horribly insensitive, and racist in and of itself. There's a clear bias, and even if it improves in season 5 we still should be talking about it, and more white people (yes white queer people included, we are not exempt from this discussion, if anything we should care just as much about it as when we’re talking about homophobia) in this fandom need to start listening when black and brown people do talk about it instead of just waltzing through and ignoring it for your own peace of mind.
also I should clarify that I myself am white, I made sure I did research before making this post in order to talk about this accurately and consciously, but if I made any mistakes or said something insensitive or used an incorrect term or anything else, feel free to correct me and I will readily fix it
as a final note: please check my rebligs of this for links to more posts that talk abt this issue
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teecupangel · 6 months
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I had an idea, but am stuck on a Desmon/Deimos (Alexios) fic. I don't no which way to take it. Either way it starts a little after Kassandra first sees Deimos is alive, Desmond gets teleported back in time. Dropped right at Deimos' feet. He thinks Desmond is a "demigod" to and a gift from the gods. Spins it in his own head that Desmond could be the Aphrodite to his Ares. Every god has a consort after all.
Now here is where I'm torn. Would it be better to go with
A.) Desmond escapes him and as Demios is hunting him down at the same time Desmond runs into Kassandra. He tells her there is a maniac hunting him and Kassandra is just like "well that sucks I'm in the middle of something, but stick with me and I'll help you." unaware that it is her brother hunting him. They stick together, bond, and somewhere down the line Demios catches up to them.
B.) Stockholm syndrome Desmond who is just tired of everything and kinda just gives in. Cause Demios is certainly devoted, obsessively so, but is it such a surprise that Desmond just wants someone to love him.
C.) Not quite Stockholm syndrome Desmond where he sees what the cult has done to Demios and tries to help him through it because all he sees is a more dramatic version of the farm. Demios being a more suped up version of what they wanted him (desmond) to be.
Or D.) Dark Desmond who is equally as tired as B desmond but goes about it much more different. He has a rather powerful "demigod" in love with him who would raze cities in his name and lay any treasures he asks for at his feet. Demios could help him get more POEs and hell, maybe even kill an isu your two. How could he pass this up?
Those are some ideas but I'm not sure which is the more pleasing option.
Any help would be appreciated <3
Sorry nonny, this answer is a month late TTATT
Also, if by help you mean help you choose, I will be no help at all.
Instead, I’ll give you more ideas for each ideas you have XD
A) This could easily turn into a found family between Desmond and Kassandra, with the crew of the Adrestia as well. In this one, you can focus on Desmond joining Kassandra on her travels because he has nowhere else to go and Kassandra doesn’t mind picking up ‘strays’ as long as they work at the ship. Plus, Desmond was good at sailing, more than anyone else in the crew. He also has the strangest ideas for upgrades that works really really help so, truly, Kassandra wouldn’t mind saying that Desmond was a godsend. Of course, Deimos would see them close and become jealous. It doesn’t matter if Kassandra and Desmond don’t have any romantic feelings to one another, the fact that his Aphrodite chose his older sister instead of him just covers his wounds with salt and he’d become more obsessed with having Desmond. This could be the one where Deimos has a heel turn and a redemption arc or… a story of how obsession can burn everything around it.
B) This can be the smuttiest of the four with a heavy serving of a not healthy dom-sub relationship. Their relationship would be toxic for both of them and this is one where Desmond doesn’t really care about anything while Deimos tries to win his affection by doing what he does best… murder and chaos. This can turn darker than D honestly.
C) Okay so this is like B but Desmond keeps his sanity and tries to help Deimos to his redemption arc. This would work better as a slow burn with Desmond simply trying to help him, not realizing that he’s falling in love with him until it’s too late, he’s in too deep and fuck it he’ll follow Deimos to the depths of Tartarus just so he could drag him back up.
D) You can make this a Dark!Desmond setup where the pain of dying and being thrown into the past had changed Desmond in more ways than one. In this one, they could both be two people starving for love and affection that found one another. But instead of helping each other be better, they just make each other worse. A lot of “the world versus us” mentality with Desmond being the whisper in Deimos’ ears that would lead to him taking out the cult himself just to please Desmond. Desmond, on the other hand, does love Deimos, he truly does, but he also has a warped sense of justice by this point and would probably create his own Assassin Brotherhood. This one could have Deimos worshiping Desmond as a god turned mortal, more of the Persephone to his Hades than the Aphrodite to his Ares.
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I like Hazbin so far, but I do feel like we could’ve gotten a show with a lot more nuance and depth and less jokes about SA if it was written by someone other than Vivziepop, because let’s be honest… the best parts of Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss are fanmade or written by other people
For example, the song Addict is honestly one of the most iconic and popular songs related to Hazbin Hotel, but it’s a fan song.
The Helluva Boss Pilot was better than Hazbin Hotel’s Pilot (subjective) because it was actually written by someone else.
You can still like HH and HB just fine, I don’t care, but people keep defending Vivziepop like she’s this saint who has done no wrong, and attacking anyone who says anything critical abut her.
Anyways, Hazbin is okay. It’s kinda average, but it’s still enjoyable that I wanna keep watching. I love Sir Pentious, hate how he was treated in Episode 6, and hey, if I get sent death threats or smth I might as well say all my opinions right now so you all can get them out.
The writers don’t know how to write women like Vaggie or Cherri Bomb
Alastor is overrated and overhyped. He could use more personality, and more screentime doing ominous and tricky things, instead of just “shows up, says threatening line, refuses to elaborate, leaves”
People in heaven acting just as bad as people in Hell (like Adam) is not a good or unique take. Good Omens has done it, and they’ve also done it better. I did like that Adam leading the exterminations was something that not everyone knew about, but I don’t think Sera should’ve known about it either. Idk exactly, but I would’ve gone about it in a different way.
Bringing back the writing women thing, I also think Charlie’s writing can be handled a little poorly from time to time. The only thing keeping her afloat for me is that she is to Rapunzel what Hellsa is to Elsa.
I hate Mimzy’s design. I don’t know why.
Actually kinda liked Lucifer just being a weird dad, but he’s should have a better redemption arc before all that.
Not Hazbin Hotel specific, but why are shows so afraid of having more than 15 episodes in a season now? I know they want to cut out filler because they no longer need to run for a certain amount of time, but honestly? Hazbin Hotel needs more episodes. It needs more time to flesh out its story, and this honestly applies to a lot of other shows whose stories could’ve been great if not for streaming.
Stephanie Beatriz is a great actress so use her better. She did amazing as Rosa Diaz from Brooklyn Nine-Nine, and Vaggie is… (no offense) just another of the badass Latina stereotype. Also, she is an amazing singer, but the super high octave in her and Carmine’s song did not do her voice any justice. It does not need to be that high, you can bring it down an octave or two.
I probably will have more complaints as more episodes come out. We’ll see. I still enjoy watching the show, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not perfect. Receiving criticism doesn’t mean it’s a terrible show, just that it has room for improvement.
If you read this far, thanks. I had to make a blog because I don’t have any other socials to say anything abt it on.
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dilemmaontwolegs · 2 years
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The Mark || nomad!Steve Rogers
Summary: Avengers timeline but with a soulmate twist. No one knew who their soulmate would be until after you slept with them. The matching mark on both of your hands would only appear after your bodies joined in union which left for a few strange outlooks on sex.
Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, threat of rape implied, unprotected sex, oral.
A/N: another one written on my phone, I’ll edit it next week. I also said I wouldn’t write over the weekend but I had an idea and it won’t go so here we are.
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The shadows of the alley seemed to swallow your screams before a gloved hand pressed tightly over your mouth. Your knee moved on reflex, just like your momma taught you, hitting the man square between his legs and sending him collapsing to the ground with a painful cry.
“You little bitch!” He hissed as you grabbed your handbag you had dropped and sprinted back to the street.
Oomph. The wind was knocked from your lungs as you crashed into what you assumed had to be a wall but found the wall had arms. A fresh wave of panic set in as they closed around you and your knee jolted up again.
“Ugh.” The man grunted low and bent at the waist but still he didn’t let go. “I’m trying to help.”
You looked up at his face, recognising his voice from the many videos you had seen of him over the years. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry Captain.”
His lips curled slightly but there was also a hint of a grimace that left you feeling guilty as he let go and stepped past you. “Just wait there, let me deal with this jerk. You like attacking beautiful women huh?”
The guy that had tried to drag you into the depths of the dark alley whimpered from where he lay in a puddle. His head was shaking as he tried to deny what he had done but he could hardly get the words out through the pain in his groin.
“I, I barely touched her.” He managed to stammer. “Bitch is lying.”
“I hope you have a lawyer.” Steve said as he heard sirens echoing along the street.
“And insurance.” You added, Steve’s head cocking in your direction as you stepped up behind the safety of his back. “You’re gonna need it for your testicle retrieval.”
Steve tried to cover his laugh with a cough and held his hand out for you. “You should be proud, most people freeze in these situations.”
You stared at his hand, thinking it would be simple to shake his hand but even though you didn’t need his help he had still come when everyone else ignored your cries for help. He stiffened for a moment as you wrapped your arms around his waist and whispered your thanks to his broad chest.
“No more walking around by yourself at night, alright?” He said as he relaxed and let his arms fall around your back, feeling an odd sensation in his stomach as he inhaled your mouthwatering scent.
“I have to.” You uttered as you loosened your hold, not wanting to make a fool of yourself but missing the sense of security you felt in his arms the instant they disappeared. “I have to get home somehow.”
Steve ran his hand over his beard as he felt his inside twist at the idea of you out at night, alone. “Is there anyone who can pick you up or walk with you? A boyfriend maybe?”
You shook your head, looking down at your hands clasped in front of you, the skin naked of the mark. Some days you longed to find the one you were destined to love, some days you feared who it would be. Every day you felt alone.
“I don’t have anyone.” You whispered.
“Shit.” He sighed heavily, wanting to find out more about you but the sirens were getting closer. “I have to go.”
You nodded, understanding the weight of Steve’s actions and what he risked to help you since he was technically a fugitive on the run. “Thank you, Captain.”
“Not Captain.” He shook his head with a sad smile. “Just Steve.”
“Steve,” you tasted the sound on your tongue, the interaction suddenly more intimate just from saying his name, “thank you.”
You turned as a pair of headlights filled the alleyway and when you looked back Steve was nowhere to be seen. The blanket of security that had enveloped you was gone just as suddenly and you began to tremble as the adrenaline burned out.
“Ma’am, we had a call about an assault.” The officer said as she got out and noticed your shivering, her hand signalling to her partner to get out. “Are you alright?”
You pointed a shaky finger at the man trying to pull himself up from the ground, but from the veins popping from his forehead he wouldn’t be getting away. “He tried to…”
You didn’t have to finish the sentence for the the policewoman to understand as she turned her fearsome glare to the man.
“It’s not like that.” He hissed as he cupped himself. “She’s my soulmate, I know she is, I just need to show her.”
The policeman looked down at his marked hand and closed it into a tight fist as he struggled not to punch the attacker. “You don’t deserve one. The mark is a gift, it has to be given you idiot, you can’t just go around forcing yourself on people. I’m sure when we run your prints we’ll find it’s not your first attempt at this sort of thing. Am I right?”
The man kept his lips tightly shut as a pair of handcuffs snapped around his wrists and he was roughly pulled from the ground.
“Here’s my card, come down to the station in the morning so we can take your statement.” The policewoman said softly. “Do you have anyone who can come and get you?”
“No, but I just live around the corner.” You said as you took her card and slipped it into the pocket of your apron you still wore.
“If you’re gonna walk ‘round here at night I’d suggest pepper spray.” The officer said as the car door closed behind your attacker. “Can’t be too careful, seems to be a lot of people who can’t wait to meet their soulmates, it drives them insane.”
You nodded at the truth. There were some people that burned through sexual partners, hoping that they would meet their destiny by playing the numbers game. There were some who believed that the mark would come if they took the time to get to know their would-be partner, thinking a genuine connection would make the mark appear when they finally make love. Then there were your kind, it was a mixture of both where you didn’t wait to fall in love before having sex but you also didn’t have sex with someone you had no attraction or spark with. You did not want to find yourself marked to someone you didn’t have any similarities with.
You stood under the streetlight as the police car disappeared down the street, not moving towards your apartment block until the red taillights were completely gone.
“Want some company?” You jumped as your shot nerves jerked your body around and you clutched your chest as you saw Steve step out of the darkness of the alley. “Sorry, I would’ve called your name but you didn’t tell me it.”
“Jesus Christ.” You cursed as your heart raced a mile a minute.
“Pretty sure it’s not that.” He teased, his attempt at humour calming your nerves quicker than you thought could be possible after your evening.
“And the dad joke of the year goes to…”
His smile sent butterflies flapping in your tummy and you couldn’t breath as he stepped closer until the light of the street lamp.
“It’s y/n.”
His smiled grew as he absorbed the name and committed it to memory. “Well, y/n, would you be comfortable with me walking you home?”
Your head was already nodding and you swore a bolt of lightning jolted your senses as he held out his elbow and you looped your arm through. From the widening of his eyes and the stumble of his step, you were sure he felt it too. Your body felt like static, every second that you were touching it was increasing and you didn’t know how the hairs on your body weren’t standing upright from the electricity.
“Do you want to come in?” You asked as the elevator to your floor opened and you pulled your key from your apron.
His answer was almost out before you have finished your question and it only made you smile more as you unlocked the door.
“Steve?” You pressed your back to the door after closing it behind you and played with the bow of your apron. “I hope I’m not too forward but am I crazy to think there’s something between us?”
Steve turned and saw your hesitation, an ache in his chest as he felt the need to reassure you. “You’re not crazy.”
Your mouth went dry as he stepped closer and you licked your lips to moisten them. “Do you want to kiss me?”
His answer came in the form of his touch. His lips were soft and supple while his beard tickled your skin. His hands pulled your hips towards his before snaking around your body and you threw your arms around his neck as the kiss deepened with his tongue caressing yours.
Steve pulled away first with his irises swallowed by his dilated pupils and his hair a mess from your fingers combing through them. “We shouldn’t do this tonight, not after what you have been through.”
“That is exactly why I need this, Steve.” You said as you held tighter to his body, feeling his erection straining beneath his jeans. “I don’t want to go to bed remembering his hands on me. Chase away his touch, please.”
His eyes searched yours and time felt suspended as you watched his internal monologue reflect in the emotional depths of his eyes. “You let me know the second you feel uncomfortable, alright?”
You nodded eagerly as he looked around your apartment and spotted the open door to your bedroom. His hands trailed down your back until they spread across your ass and he lifted your feet off the ground. You held his shoulders in a death grip as your legs locked around his waist and you both moaned at the friction of your core pressing against his cock.
Steve laid you gently across your bed before stepping back to pull his shirt over his head and you propped yourself up on your elbows as you watched his muscles ripple with every movement.
“Holy shit.” You sighed longingly at the delicious v shape of muscle that disappeared into his waistband. “I wanna taste you so bad.”
His chuckle rolled over your skin like silk and he unbuckled his belt, leaving his jeans hanging open before deciding to undress you first. You were more than happy to have the restrictive clothing gone and his heated stare set fire to your skin as he drank in the sight of you laid bare for him.
“I wanna taste you so bad.” He moaned as he settled between your legs and blew cool air across your clit. “Can I?”
“Oh god yes, please, Steve.” You begged as you looked at his eyes watching your from above your mound.
His smile disappeared below your line of sight and your head tipped back as his lips sealed over your clit and sucked. Your fingers laced into his hair as you rolled your hips against his face, his beard tickling the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. Your moans were quickly filling the small room and when he lowered his kiss to your slick folds you saw stars. His lapped at the juices flowing, pushing inside as he fucked you with his tongue until your legs trembled around his head, deafening him as they clenched over his ears with a cry of ecstasy.
Crawling up your body, you should have felt intimidated by his size domineering your person space but it had the opposite effect. You felt safe and secure between his beefy arms and his broad shoulders promised the strength to carry any burdens you might have. Reaching between your bodies as his lips shared the taste of your desire, you pushed his jeans over his hips and he kicked them off without breaking the kiss.
The weight of Steve’s cock hung heavy on your thigh and you felt his tip touch your dripping folds as he shifted closer. “Are you sure?”
Your palms pressed to his chest, feeling the beat of his heart hard against them and you nodded and slid them over his shoulders while your legs locked around his hips. “I’m sure.”
Steve bit his lip as he fought the urge to slam himself home when his head slipped through your slick entrance. His cock was already throbbing and his balls tight with the need of release but he counted to 10 as he eased himself in, one inch at a time.
Your lips were parted with the deep breaths you were taking and your nails dig into his back at how full you felt with him inside you. You could feel the tension in his body as he held back and you rolled your hips to get the movement you desperately needed.
“Please, Steve, you’re not going to break me.” You promised as he gave you long, slow, methodical strokes that teased you with the potential. “Fuck me hard.”
His hips bucked at the order and he caught himself before his hips crashed into yours and caused any bruises but it wasn’t enough for you. Your hands trailed down his back until you reached his firm ass, clenching with every thrust and you dug your nails into the tissue and pulled yourself up to meet him.
“Oh, shit, that’s it.” You moaned as he bottomed out in you, pushing against the deepest parts of you. “I can take it, Steve.”
His control was waning as he felt your walls fluttering around him and he let go just a little more, his strokes speeding up as he pushed your leg higher over his hip and moaned at how tight you were. “You feel so good sweetheart, so fucking good.”
You buried your face in his neck as his deep voice reverberated through your body and the aural stimulation tipped you over the edge, his name falling from your lips as you came around him. His rhythm faltered as your pussy clamped around his girth, the walls massaging his cock until he spent himself with guttural cry to the ceiling.
His body collapsed above and his elbows beside your body kept most of his weight from crushing you as he regained his breath. He chuckled and shivered as your hands drew lazy designs along his spine and you felt his smile against your neck. “That tickles.”
He slowly retreated from your body and fell heavily onto his back beside you, pulling you into his arms so your head rested on his hard shoulder. You looked at your hand resting on his defined abs and felt the ache of disappointment begin to spread in your chest. You had accidentally let hope fill you when you felt the spark but the proof was bare for you to see, no mark.
Steve could feel the change and he looked down to see you looking at your hand. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” You said with a weak smile. “I shouldn’t have expected anything, then you can’t be disappointed right.”
His high was quickly draining as he felt his own pain growing, the idea of going back to being alone a bitter pill to swallow. The pain in his chest began to radiate through his body and his back arched as the burn of a thousand needles pricked him. He couldn’t think through the sudden searing heat until he heard your scream in his ear and felt you writhing in your own world of pain.
“It hurts.” You whimpered as the pain flooded your veins and traveled across your body until it seemed to concentrate in your hands. “Make it stop.”
Steve wished he could take it away but he knew what was happening and that it would be over soon as he reached for your hands. His fingers entwined with yours and the invisible flames licked your skin and the mark appeared in swirls and lines as unique as a fingerprint. The burn dissipated as fast as it arrived and you sagged back onto Steve’s chest equally excited as you were exhausted.
“They’re beautiful.” You gushed as you looked at your joined hands.
“They are.” Steve agreed as he captured your lips, his body already stirring awake as the excitement of finding his soulmate renewed his strength. “I can’t believe, after all this time, I found you.”
You slipped your hand from his and traced the soft hairs below his bellybutton until you wrapped your fingers around his shaft, stroking him slowly as you shifted on the bed. “Me too, now I need to taste you, so bad.”
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rhiannons-bird · 1 month
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okay so I‘M FINALLY READING SWORD CATCHER AND I HAVE THOUGHTS
I‘m only about halfway through but I need to rant
- it‘s incredible how well cassie manages to lend a unique voice to each of her characters every single time. she just doesn’t miss does she?
- lin caster is the awesomest girl. i just love her because she reminds me of other cc girls in the way that she is kind of a very typical heroine on the surface but you can actually feel her emotions and she’s very believable & flawed & human and you just can’t help rooting for her + i love her friendship with mariam
- everyone is bisexual & it’s completely normalised i love it here
- lin & conor??? apparently they are the flagship which I know because I took a peek at the tag after they had two scenes together because the ENERGY OMG
- ahh yes, conor 😌 another pretty man with issues who’s in a lot of trouble and likes to cover it up with sarcasm, pompous behaviour, fancy clothes & vanity- you just can’t help but love it
- but also he‘s the biggest prick and i want him to have some sense beat into him by everyone around him
- like he qualifies for a huge growth arc but it could also go downhill and turn into sth ugly
- anyone had a weird sense of déjà vu about him and lin after that one little excerpt about adessa and suleman? like, she’s an ashkar with probably immense magical potential let’s be real i see where this is going and he‘s a prince (future king) with marivent blood 🤔🤔🤔
- conor‘s frat boy posse make my blood boil- especially with the way they talked about antonetta in that one scene 🤢🤮
- falconet is the nicest one by far but he‘s sus as hell i know he’s up to sth 🤨 but i rly wanna like him 😭
- the ragpicker king is just a cool dude who dresses emo and has people murdered on the regular i guess i love him. he’s hot. - kaz energy but also very different at the same time. can‘t wait to see more of him. and there’s def more to him.
- also no, andreyen, i don‘t understand either what people mean about ji-an having an off putting manner i‘m pretty convinced she‘s never done anything wrong in her entire life 💗except for the murder what murder
- kel can only be described as a calmly unhinged cinnamon roll. he reminds me a little of james (especially with his „mask“) but if you orphaned him & janked up the loyalty & sluttiness by a hundred
- like fr he is so confused just running around threatening and/or kissing people wtf 😭✋🏼 he just has chemistry with everyone he interacts with lol
- kel & conor remind me of matthew & james but if there was a big power imbalance and a everything is a little more fucked up 🙃
- generally the way power & power dynamics are portrayed and handled is very interesting i like it
- antonetta has my entire heart ❤️
- I need more of her but as an individual not just through kel‘s pov, so far i’m not very big on whatever is being hinted at with her and kel
- I adore merren just like everyone else, he‘s kind of giving a weird mix of christopher/matthew/wylan and I‘m here for it. plus: autism coded character yeass
- also nice to see some jewish rep. (i did not know cassie was jewish before lol) the ashkar are really interesting (& as far as their treatment by the rest of the world goes at times infuriating😤) to read about and add a lot of depth to the world building.
- i love how we see the complexities of their culture portrayed through lin who on the one hand is deeply ingrained in it and holds/has received a lot of love & care for/from her own people while also having been wronged & ostracised by them and how both can be true simultaneously
- as someone who‘s very familiar with multiple romance languages the languages in this book are incredibly entertaining to me
- SO MANY SECRETS & political intrigue hehehe rubbing my little hands together can’t wait for all this to escalate (because it most certainly will) 😈
bottom line
I’m really glad i finally started reading this.
it took me a while to get into it & I’m still holding out on a final judgement since it seems very slow but i’m a patient reader and i appreciate a good setup.
also I want a creepy black crocodile pool in my house now.
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emblazons · 1 year
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what are your favorite byler headcanons?
—I never get asked this question, so thanks for being the first lmao. (I did write my “S5 hopes” before, but these are different I think?) Anyway. Hmmm.
While they both love Tolkien, Mike likes the Lord of the Rings trilogy books more, but Will enjoys the Hobbit best. Mike loves the depth of the lore and complexity of how Tolkien describes things in the original trilogy because they help him when he’s coming up with campaigns, but Will enjoys the straightforward (and a little sweeter) narrative of The Hobbit more—and also has a preference for it because the version he had as a kid was more image-heavy, and he’s an artist. :)
Speaking of Tolkien—Mike absolutely has a one-ring he keeps around his neck like Frodo. (It may even be what he chooses as an engagement ring way, way down the line, but Will is so outdone he decides to just buy it to wear it around his neck instead lol).
When it comes to getting work done, Mike is a think-out-loud type—as in, will talk to himself out loud and not even realize he’s doing it when alone, or with someone he’s comfortable getting into his head around. Will doesn’t say anything about it, because he thinks it’s hilarious—but Mike eventually learns about his own tendency when Will knows about a surprise he had planned before he can even do it…because he was thinking out loud. (He gets up in arms about how Will should have told him, but the more time passes, the funnier the tendency becomes to them).
Mike was hype as hell for the release of Jurassic Park in 1993. Will was also hype, but. Not nearly as excited about it as Mike was. When the Peter Jackson’s LOTR adaptation was announced, they were both over the moon (though Will was a bit scared. He is very picky about his movies, and adaptations even more so).
The two of them would settle in San Francisco, and would definitely be the ones who run a “teach DnD / campaign night” in conjunction with a comic book store in their neighborhood, in an attempt to keep the younger generations’ love for it alive—the same way as the bookstore owner who introduced them to the book. this is maybe based on an actual comicbook store with a dnd night in the SF Castro that I found a few years ago. The world may never know. They are thrilled in 2016 when a new Netflix show (😉) and Critical Role revives people’s love for it when they’re much, much older.
The first time the topic of “going to pride” comes up in the mid-90’s (long before it was the socially accepted event it is today), Will is mildly terrified—and so is Mike, but his “brave paladin” side absolutely talks himself up enough to get Will to join him solely out of a need to prove he can. They end up having a great time, and Mike, who has never really delved into queer history, ends up on a whole tangent of learning about it for an entire month afterward. Will finds it v endearing.
Mike sucks at poker because he cannot keep a single thing off his face. He is, however, really good at playing “the house” in card games, so that’s the role he takes on (comes from years of leading campaigns. He’s a bit of a showman that way).
Will cannot stand cold even after he’s disconnected from Vecna/the UD, and misses California—which is why they move back. When “global warming” talk starts becoming more common, his favorite dad joke to make is “if I think it’s getting hot, it must be,” but no one but the party & family know why it’s funny.
Earlier into their relationship, Will becomes a bit troubled by the fact that Mike is the only person he ever dated. It causes tension in their relationship for a little while, though Will eventually realizes he doesn't want to be with anyone else, so it doesn't matter. (Much later, Mike admits that he thought Will’s concerns were unfounded, considering the only person he ever dated outside of Will happened when he was 13 & probably shouldn’t have even been his girlfriend in the first place, given the fact that she was 3 seconds out of a lab…& he doesn’t even like women anyway).
Mike knows Will is healing more from “the events of the show” when Will starts making dark-humor jokes about being possessed and/or being lost in the upside down—though it takes him a lot to get used to it, given how scared he spent years being about losing Will. Eventually he gets on board and laughs—which Will appreciates, because it helps him to see Mike get less uncomfortable and feel safer about keeping Will safe after all that happened.
There are ten I could think of off top?? LMAO someone ask @magentamee what my other headcanons are I’m sure she’s heard them all by now 😂
Thanks so much for this ask!
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a-driftamongopenstars · 8 months
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to let go is to embrace; astarion x oc fic
to let go is to embrace (763 words); astarion x gleam; t rated, tw injuries, act 3 spoilers - also on ao3
finally finished Astarion's quest. ough ough ough. it was perfect. he didn't go through with the ritual, and the ending of Cazador was fucking perfect.
His throat aches from screaming. His limbs burn with exhaustion. His vision is blurry, tears dried on the eyelashes. His hands still remember the grip of the dagger and the breaking bones and flesh of Cazador as he killed him one final time.
But his heart feels… lighter.
The weight of two century old pain is so much easier to bear when its creator can add to it no more. Not to him, nor to anyone else. But the guilt and the fear still lurk on the edges, threatening to return and to crush him, now that there is no barrier of a seemingly unachievable goal. 
The lights of the inn room are dimmed, all is quiet. Astarion, resting on a bed, looks up at Gleam, who sits beside him, a sponge in their hand. Bottles of salves are lined up on a bedside table, and there is a wash basin with water, diluted with blood. 
They offer Astarion a kindness after another, this time by helping with the plentiful wounds that Cazador and his minions left in the fight.
Astarion's heart fills with affection, just as his eyes sting with tears. He is too tired and too weak to push it all back. For once, he thinks, for fucking once someone cares about him. For him. He wants to be grateful and return it twicefold, but he doesn't know how. What does he have to offer? 
Gleam draws the sponge gently down his arm, washing away the blood, the pain. They drip the salve where bruises remain, those that Shadowheart's magic could heal no longer. Astarion watches quietly, as cuts close up into smooth skin and purple blemishes disappear.
"All right?" Gleam asks, noticing Astarion's glance. 
"Quite so," he replies, offering a small smile. Nothing else he knows to say, and his throat closes up on words.
Gleam pauses, resting the sponge aside.
Their eyes shine softly in the dim light. Light blue against black sclera, just like stars. Have they always been so bright? 
Unbidden tears make themselves known again, and Astarion swallows.
"Come here," Gleam offers, their voice softened. And Astarion moves, away from the pillows set up for him and into his tiefling's arms. 
To let go of all the worldly hardships, to let go of pain of memories and of things that have finally come to an end. To embrace a new future, because he has one now. Uncertain, but a future nonetheless.
Gleam's arms hold him strongly. Astarion breathes them in, soaks soundless tears into the soft folds of their shirt. He does not notice how his fingers curl into it, knuckles whitening against already pale skin. 
"I don't know what to do," he whispers into Gleam's shoulder, his voice weakened.
Gleam's arms remain solid strong around him, and soothing with comfort. They are a rock in a crashing sea, they are a lighthouse on the edge of a cliff, they are a rope thrown into the depths of a darkest well. 
"Astarion," Gleam says gently, yet firmly. 
Their hand runs through Astarion's hair, and momentarily he is distracted. 
"You have all the time in the world to figure it out. Free, safe. And with me by your side, if you will have me." 
Astarion's scoffs, pulling back to look at Gleam. Gods, he is beautiful. With a hero complex, proven so many times over, but Astarion cannot help but like that. Love that.
"Well, of course," Astarion smiles through tears. "Where shall I be without my handsome and daring barbarian?" 
Gleam laughs, reaching over for the sponge again as Astarion lays his hand upon theirs. Their fingers lace together, and he cannot help but love the way it looks. All the little things, he craves them like water to a dying man, but cannot allow himself to take any more than what he finds acceptable.
And even that is too much.
“Thank you,” he says at last. “For this. And for everything you have done for me. Which is an awful lot, I hope you are keeping tabs.”
Gleam smiles and draws Astarion’s hand to their cheek.
“I think your tab can be forgiven. Anything you need, on me.”
Astarion’s lips spread into a wider smile, he is about to make quite a joke of that, but another tearful gasp escapes his mouth instead. Since when does laughter makes him cry?
He rests against the pillow once more, watching Gleam resume the process. His mind is calmer, his heart is gentler.
Astarion wonders if Gleam knows that they are healing more than the visible bleeding wounds. 
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anderstrevelyan · 5 months
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Was tagged by @mxanigel for a WIP word search game (thank you!), looking for the words night, comfort, and tree.
(I'll try and do this on hard mode, aka pulling from works so in-progress @effelants hasn't seen them yet) (...I 2/3 succeeded, I don't write about trees enough apparently)
1. Comfort (13-year-old Valas)
Valas doesn’t want to talk to him. He doesn’t want to talk to anyone. Talking won’t change anything. It won’t bring Mother back, and won’t turn Father back into himself, and, gods below, it won’t make him feel better. He’d rather sit and stare at the chair’s fabric like it’s fascinating, twisting a loose piece until it unravels entirely. Father, at least, seems uncomfortable with the silence. “Valas,” he says, in a tone half admonishing, half unsure. “He asked you a question.” The Doomguide had asked him a question, the same inane question he was asked by his tutor, and the other children there, even the member of the Watch who stands sentry on the local corner. And what a question. How is he? How else could he possibly be? But the strange man waves it away, the bones and skulls carved beautifully into his bracers catching in the afternoon light. “Oh, it’s okay. You can talk as much or as little as you like, son. In fact—” he turns to Father, still fretting with some pages on his desk “—I’m fine here, if you wanted to get some work done elsewhere. All afternoon, even, if it takes you to High Hall.” “I—” he starts. But then the protest dies on his lips. He nods, gathering some of the pages, with no seeming rhyme or reason.  A few minutes later—a grasped-for coat, a quick kiss to his hair—and Valas is alone with the Doomguide.  Great. Just great. The seat’s thread loosens a little more from the stitch, uncoiling quickly into the tension of his hand. He doesn’t look up. He’s still not going to say anything.
2. Tree (15-year-old Valas & Jaheira)
There’s something in his voice that brings Jaheira so firmly to the past, she has to stoop to find a smooth pebble of her own to gather her thoughts. “Can I tell you something, cub?” She tosses the rock, watching it bounce a few times before disappearing into the depths. This is usually a story she holds close, hidden behind a careful glare. “I lost my parents, when I was a girl.” He turns to her with wide eyes. “Really?” “Really. That’s when I found myself at a druids’ grove. When I found my faith in Silvanus.” “Really?” “Would I tell you a lie?” He looks at her sheepishly—looks down at her, she notices fully, now that they’re still—and she leads him to sit on a fallen tree. “It was far from an easy time, and it’s pained me to see you go through the same, but it showed me much about this world.” “About respecting all parts of life? That there’s nothing to fear in rot and decay.” “Indeed,” though she wishes she could help him see all the flourishing sides of nature, too: the optimistic twist of vines, the vigor of wolves as they run through the woods, the soft touch of a meadow’s grass. She’s always found the followers of Kelemvor a touch morbid, with their focus on the end of life’s cycle. But far be it from her to challenge the boy’s interest in a god still committed to neutrality, to balance, when she once feared he’d fall into the evils of his mother’s Shar. Still, she has a suggestion. “I did find,” she says with deliberate levity, “that while a quiet life of faith may suit some, a way to take action is much more satisfying. Not that I mean you to become a Harper,” she adds quickly, “but to find something—” “I’d like to be a cleric,” he interrupts, decisive. “To help others.”
3. Night (51-year-old Valas & Jaheira, in Act 3)
“Is it true?” [Jaheira] asks. There’s pain in her voice. “You know I don’t know the answer to that. Not really.” “Is it true?” she prompts again, and he knows what she means him to do, the same thing they did on the long nights of their journey here, testing and talking, trying to see if they could shake more loose from this mangled, ruined mind of his. He digs his boot into the dirt, sits straight on the hayloft he’s been using as a bed, and breathes.  Tries not to force it.  “It feels true,” he ventures. “I didn’t recognize him, back in the colony beneath Moonrise. I didn’t recognize him when we walked into that room today. But there’s something about his voice. The way he talks with his hands. It almost felt…” He hesitates, but Jaheira lets him find it. “Safe, to be near him. Not far from how it felt with you.” “Well, that concerns me.” 
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homerjacksons · 2 months
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Fluffy February - @fluffyfebruary Day 18: Pain Word count: 640 Fandom: Ripper Street Pairing: Homer Jackson/Edmund Reid AO3
Jackson wasn’t surprised at the way he could take comfort in Reid’s arms, at the way his whole body relaxed into Reid’s hold. He wasn’t surprised he could bare his heart to this man who already owned so much of it, wasn’t surprised he was unashamed to bare his soul and all its damaged parts. He wasn’t even surprised he could let himself cry, could let everything he’d kept locked inside his chest out.
What surprised him was the ease with which Reid took him in his arms, the way he instinctively ran his fingers into Jackson’s hair, ran a hand down his back, held him close and whispered reassurances to him as though he did it every day, as though it were second nature.
He’d known Reid gentle, soft, kind. He’d known Reid’s love and affection in so many different ways. But he hadn’t been sure how the ever-stoic Reid would react when confronted with the broken reality of the man he’d fallen for, when confronted with tears and feelings one can’t put into words, when confronted with days of needless melancholy.
It was a comfort, an immense relief, that Reid hadn’t shied away, that he hadn’t deemed this too much, that he hadn’t even hesitated before offering Jackson whatever it was he needed.
And what he’d needed was to be held, to be told it would be alright. He needed to know, above all else, that Reid wouldn’t run from his bad days.
“Do you wish to talk about it?”
Jackson huffed a humourless laugh, lifting his head from where it rested on Reid’s chest just enough to look at him. “Sometimes I have bad days, Reid. Melancholy days. Nothing to say, I just…” he trailed off, resting his head back on Reid’s chest with a sigh.
“You just…” Reid prompted, hand running gently up and down Jackson’s back, fingertips trailing his spine.
“I just have days like this, Reid. There’s nothing more to say.” Jackson could almost hear Reid thinking, hear him weighing his words, and he sighed again. “We don’t have to talk about this.”
“I’m trying to understand.”
“There’s nothing to understand. Some days I hate myself, hate who I am and what I’ve done. Some days I want to rage against the world and all its injustices. Some days I can’t fathom the idea of getting out of bed. If that’s too much—“
“It’s not,” Reid cut him off quickly, holding him a little tighter for emphasis. “I want to understand. Not to judge, not to run, but to help.”
“You are helping.”
“I’m doing nothing.”
Jackson smiled despite himself, lifting his head again so he could look Reid in the eyes as he said, “You being here helps.”
Reid’s brow furrowed a little, eyes darting across Jackson’s face as though he were searching for the lie. “But you’ve felt this before?” Jackson nodded. “Many times?”
“And I’m sure I will again.”
“But then—“ Reid broke off with a small shake of his head. “Have you shared this with anyone?”
Jackson closed his eyes, letting his forehead drop to Reid’s chest. “Susan,” he muttered, voice muffled.
Reid’s fingers threaded into the back of his hair, massaging his scalp gently, idly. “Did you doubt I’d try to help?”
“It ain’t about you, Reid,” Jackson said through a weary sigh, sinking back into Reid’s embrace. “I wasn’t sure how you’d respond and it’s…hard to share the depths of our pain, as you well know.”
I’d never turn my back on you, especially not when you needed me most.”
“You sure about that?”
“Positive,” Reid whispered with vehemence. “I will hold you for as long as you need, will help in any way I can, you just say the words.”
Jackson swallowed the rising lump in his throat and nodded. “Will you stay the night?”
“Of course.”
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girlmartok · 7 months
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Left Hand of Destiny (1&2) stream of consciousness review
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Overall thoughts: I really liked this book! Or technically 2 books but the second is just the continuation of the first so in my head it was just one long book (~500 pages all in all). This is only the second trek book I've read and also the second written by the actor who played the character in ds9 (shoutout to ASIT, though this one has a non-actor co-writer as well), but even beyond the star trekking of TLHOD, this was a really good read in terms of writing style, pace, emotion. It was very action and character focused which I enjoyed, and especially the characterization of Martok was so great and obviously JG Hertzler had a lot of thoughts about the character he played that translated really well on page.
The memory alpha article on TLHOD says this but I didn't really start to see it until the last half of book 2, but this is very much a King Arthur story (btw don't look at that memory alpha page unless you don't care about major spoilers lol). Down to a lady in the lake handing out mythical swords. That instance was a little heavy handed in my opinion, but I did like all of the prophetic dreams and talk of glorious purpose.
That's something to note though: if you don't like dream sequences, this is not the book for you. There are A LOT of dreams. In fact the opening scene is a dream, but it's now my new favorite opening line in a book because it jumps right in by telling you who this guy is and what his deal is:
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I personally am a big fan of overt symbolism like this (even a well done cliché or two), myths and repeating cycles of heroism etc etc. And I think this book melded Arthurian drama with Klingon drama well. The Klingon-ness of this book was great. What better way to get to the heart of Klingon culture in a story but by focusing on the guy chosen to lead his people and getting it ripped out from beneath his feet and having to decide that he actually wants to be chancellor. In a lot of ways this is a story of outcasts finding their way back to where they belong, which isn't always what they expect or want in the beginning. Which leads me to...
The supporting characters really made this book. Without Pharh the Ferengi who got bullied for being as ugly as a Klingon as a child and now runs a landfill on Qo'noS, there would be no book. He's my favorite (little buddy coded to the extreme) but most of the major side characters are really well explored in terms of motivation and actions. Worf, Sirella, Ezri, Darok, Kahless, Alexander, to name a few. Alexander and Kahless were two of my other surprise standouts. And because no one who hasn't read this book knows about my new favorite guy Pharh, I will now include a couple passages I highlighted to spread the word about how great he is:
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Wide array of well developed side characters aside, this book is awful for women. Yes the main antagonist is Martok's insane ex, but her character is kind of too outlandish to really have much depth. Ezri shows up at the end of book 1 and plays a big part in book 2 but honestly I'm not sure why she was even there (apart from loyalty etc, but I mean story-wise she didn't add all that much to keep the action moving ((anyone else could have been subbed in for her 9 out of 10 times and it would've made more sense tbh)) except to be another explainer of Klingon things to the reader). Sirella has a few great scenes, but not nearly enough and she wasn't allowed to do much either in terms of agency and impact on plot. Martok's two daughters are barely afterthoughts.
The main plot is that a usurper attacks Qo'noS (and specifically goes after Martok), swaying the Klingon people to their side through a combo of bioengineered charisma and the people's growing resentment toward progressive ideas that Martok (and Worf) represents. That's really only the problem in book 1, while book 2 deals more with Martok accepting the hand fate has dealt and deciding to win so they can save the decaying Klingon heart and so on. But even with the kind of cheesy setup, it rarely felt overwrought or unearned with the emotional beats. The antagonist lady is, yeah, she's a bit over the top. And before 2016 I would've said the quick flip to xenophobia and Make Klingons Great Again (I'm pretty sure they use that phrase almost exactly) in the general public was unrealistic but hey, cycles of destiny and evil constantly shifting and repeating, am I right??
There were... quite a few deaths. I guess I should've expected that, being a Klingon setting and all, but some of them hit me hard. And a few I don't think really needed to happen and kind of weakened the narrative.... maybe I'll put a spoiler section below a cut at the bottom of this to discuss those 🤪
This paragraph will haunt me for a while I think... 😀 sorry for inflicting it on others now but hey that's show business
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Even with some hiccups (see spoiler section below), I loved the book pretty much. Shocker: tumblr user girlmartok loves the Martok book, but it was better than I had hoped even. The Martok focus was so good and the side characters just made it even better. Much more of a heroic fantasy than most star trek settings, which fit really well and also was refreshing. It's long! But I would recommend it if you have any interest in Klingons and/or fun little guys who go on adventures and think a lot about death.
SPOILERS ⬇️
Okay ripping the bandaid off. The way Sirella died was not chill. I mean even having her die was not something I would have included, because the story really didn't dive all that deep into her and Martok's relationship. But ramming an enemy ship so Martok could flee near the beginning of book 2... and she doesn't even kill any major bad guys doing it?? It just served no point narratively (the bad guys still outnumbered them, still caught up to them not long after) and it didn't even really affect Martok all that much beyond like one paragraph where he wants to turn around and go on a murder spree in her name... He doesn't even get to go on a murder spree in her name!!!
Bandaid rip #2: PHARH MY LITTLE BABY BOY DIES???? I was glad I had forewarning about this one because I would've been mad otherwise. I am not exaggerating saying he was my second favorite character in this book after Martok. The humor he added, yes, but also just his role as an outsider who's seen as weak by both Ferengi and Klingon, and he befriends the chancellor of the Klingon Empire, HOLDS ONTO THE CHANCELLOR'S RING FOR MOST OF THE BOOK AND BECOMES HIS SQUIRE BASICALLY 🫠💔 I don't know how anyone wouldn't fall in love with him. At least his death was done well, even though I don't think it should have happened. He at least got a murderous rampage in his name 😤 and Martok basically adopted him so he could get into Sto'vo'kor 🥺
Those were my main two criticisms of the book, and really ties into why this wasn't as great a story as ASIT, for example. A lot of things happen to Martok, but some things don't get the resolution they would need to influence him on this character journey he's going on. One of Martok's defining characteristics in ds9 is that he's a wife guy and his wife doesn't take bullshit. But then his wife dies suddenly and he's upset but he's not Upset upset, if you know what I mean. It didn't feel earned and it didn't feel necessary. Literally the first and only time it did feel like a reasonable plot device was at the very end when Worf tells him that people love a tragic victor even more than a victory. The problem is just that Martok doesn't ever explore what that tragedy really means to him.
Justice for Shen and Lazhna, Martok's daughters, who in addition to dying off screen are only brought up to highlight how shitty of a dad Martok has been. He just thinks of them (and his son Drex too but he gets more characterization solely by virtue of appearing in the narrative) in terms of himself and his love for them is more on the side of pity rather than real emotional attachment. Sirella should've been way meaner to him about that tbh.
Non character death related but a big focus of the first book was Martok losing public opinion pretty much immediately. Old friends turn against him and that really shakes him. But then in the second book... that's not really brought up again? The whole second book takes place away from Qo'noS, and yeah they mention that people will probably become less affected by the dumb bioengineered charisma after time, but I cannot stress enough how much the entire planet hated him. So he won the big battle against his foes etc etc, came back to Qo'noS and... just told everyone all that?? That goes along with the lack of fully exploring the consequences of some of these bad things that happen to Martok. It felt like a little too much piled on him and not enough resolution.
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little-tyrant-gortash · 5 months
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Oathbreaker
Pairing: fem!Tav x Enver Gortash, fem!Tav/Astarion
Tags: Emotional Manipulation, Manipulation, Manipulative Relationship, Paladin Tav (Baldur's Gate), Vaginal Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Drunk Sex, Unrequited Love, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Scars, Blood and Injury, Injury, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Miscarriage, Torture, Psychological Torture, Implied/Referenced Torture
Word count: 2,397
Ao3 here.
Chapter 1.
Chapter 2.
Chapter 3. ⬇
Chapter 4.
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Chapter 3: Complications
The next morning found her with a headache.
The first thing she felt was the weight of the blanket on her body. She frowned slightly when she realised she'd been well tucked in by someone. When she opened her eyes, she saw only the bedding and a pillow, which, upon touching, wasn't warm anymore. Tav slowly sat up, holding the blanket to her chest.
She needed a few moments to remember what exactly happened last night, and when it came back to her in full, her mouth opened to a silent scream.
I can't believe I really did it, she thought as she looked around in the lavish, expensive room. There were so much black and so much gold; she'd never been in such an expensive looking suite before. Everything smelled new; it seemed that he'd moved here recently, perhaps after his ascension to Archduke. Even the four poster bed's columns were made of gold. It was almost too much.
I shouldn't've done this, she thought, rubbing her face with her hands and giving her cheeks little pats to wake herself up properly. I'm so fucking stupid.
Tav sighed, running a hand in her hair, trying to come to terms with the fact that she really let Gortash bed her. She tentatively touched her lips, staring forward without seeing anything. It really wouldn't be a problem if it wasn't amazing. If Gortash was just another puffed up ignorant who only knew how to use someone to reach his own release, but no. It was so much worse.
As she pulled herself to the side of the bed, groaning from the thought that she had been filled well and good with his seed – probably staining his sheets, too –, she noticed a note on the nightstand on her side. It must've been him who left it there for her to read; she'd seen his precise handwriting in other letters during her adventures. She picked it up.
Onwards, my Paladin.
- Enver
Tav's heart skipped a beat. There was so much for her to unpack. Fragments of last night flashed in her mind's eye, his voice echoing in the depths of her mind.
I want to rule with you.
I want you to survive this, I want you to stay focused.
I need you.
I need you more than anyone else in my life, Tav.
Look forward and take one step at a time, with me, alright?
On top of this, the Emperor was awfully quiet. She couldn't remember if it contacted her again during the night, or after it; nothing apart from the pleasure and lust remained in her mind.
Tav bit her lower lip and brought the note he left for her to her heart.
"Gods damn you", she murmured softly as she tossed the blanket off of her body and started to search for her clothes.
They were neatly folded and placed on the armchair near the bed. Did a servant do this, or was it his doing? With a frown, she quickly got dressed and braided her hair in one plait. She didn't want to spend too much time here anymore; the others at the camp must've been anxiously waiting for her return. Most of them weren't sure that they should let her come here alone. She'd have tons to explain, now. Groaning at the prospect, she silently left the palace; Gortash's note hidden in one of her inner pockets, close to her heart.
This particular morning in Baldur's Gate was loud. People were busy walking to shops or to work, and it didn't help Tav's headache the slightest. What was even worse that she could feel that the Steel Watch was positively watching her; noticing how the machines turned their heads every time she bypassed one of them, she couldn't help but wonder if Enver kept his eyes on her. Strangely, it made her feel safe.
"Bah!" She scoffed at the thought before she stopped at a stall to buy a few apples and some bread for herself for breakfast.
It was so hard to concentrate on anything else but the truth that she was definitely compromised. She should've been more focused, harder to sway, but he lured her in so fast – he almost didn't even need to try. His words and closeness and especially, warmth was all she needed after how Astarion… how he…
Tav walked faster before she started to run. She didn't feel safe out there, alone, not even in broad daylight. Daylight would never protect her from the vampire who once claimed he loved her.
Who said she'd regret leaving him.
At the camp, only Gale was awake. The rest of the camp was mostly silent as it was still very early. She offered a smile to the wizard who spotted her at once, returning her smile immediately. She eased up a bit; if Gale was around, then she was safe. As he walked over to her, she couldn't help but feel slightly nervous, though. She sat down on a bench and picked out the apple from her bag.
"Good morning", Gale offered, sitting beside her. His eyes radiated warmth at her, though, they seemed a bit more inquisitive than usual. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm good", Tav replied, hoping not to discuss where she'd been last night. "How're you?"
"I'm fine, thank you."
"And the others?"
"Nothing special. Karlach spent half of the evening playing fetch with Scratch."
"Mm."
Tav rubbed the apple against her shirt to clean it before she bit into it. Her headache seemed to pass now, that she knew she was back at safety. With Gale on her side, nothing could harm her. Not even… not even…
"I see you've had an… adventurous night", Gale remarked gently which caused Tav to furrow her brows.
"What do you mean?" She asked when she swallowed the bite. Gale's eyes dropped to her neck and she suddenly started to panic. "What is it?"
"I'm not sure how should I put this", Gale looked flustered for a moment as he looked away from her, an uncertain smile playing around his lips – but his eyes looked distant, almost… hurt. "You're sporting a few hickeys. Not like I'm judging, of course! I'm sure you had, hmm, fun, last night."
She was glad she swallowed that bite of the apple because imagining herself with hickeys on her neck, left there by Gortash himself, would've made her choke. Flustered, she shot to her feet and stormed away in her tent – ironically, next to Gale's after someone left that spot –, and she was rummaging around for a mirror to see.
"No, no, no, no", she whined as she saw those dark, black hickeys on both sides of her neck. As red as the setting sun, Tav buried her face in the bedroll on the ground before she let out a long, embarrassed whine. She paraded through the city like this; it was no wonder now that the people who saw her smiled at her so broadly. "I'm going to kill him", she muttered to herself before she pushed herself up and tried to find something to cover herself up with it.
Covered with a silk scarf, she joined Gale anew. Sitting beside him, he smiled at her, and she returned the gesture with a tired look and a grumpy expression.
"Sooo", he wriggled a little on the bench beside her. "You're not going to tell me what happened? Who was the lucky one?"
Tav imagined Gale's face if she told him the truth. Oh I let the Chosen of Bane rail me good last night. The thought was funny, sure, she would've cherished Gale's expression to that for years to come, but she didn't want to break his heart again.
She already did once. Because of Astarion. Gale fell in love with her first; and perhaps, his love for her was more pure than how she believed the vampire loved her. Tav often wondered why didn't she give Gale a chance; he was handsome, clever, reliable… if, perhaps, a bit way too good for her taste.
"I can't remember much", she shrugged, "I remember leaving Gortash's palace after dinner, though. I went to a tavern, got drunk and there was a girl, but then… all is blank."
"Ah, well", Gale still looked hurt, and she hated herself for it. Had she thought herself good enough for him, she would've told him to let's try it. But the truth was… especially now, that she was an Oathbreaker… she really thought he deserved much, much better than her. "Did the negotiations go well with Gortash?"
"We haven't discussed much apart from our next step. Which is killing Orin. For that, we should find her lair first, and I think I know where we can start looking."
"Do you really trust Gortash?" Gale furrowed his brows as he glanced at her, the warmth in his eyes soothing her soul. "Do you think he won't betray us if we get the other Netherstone?"
"I believe he doesn't have a reason to turn against us", Tav shrugged. "That's better than nothing, right?"
"Wrong", Karlach's voice growled from behind them, and Tav glanced back at her over her shoulder. "Gortash needed no reason to betray me, and he did it anyway. I say we crush his skull after we're finished with Orin."
Tav tensed. She could feel Gale looked at her face the moment he heard what Karlach was saying, and she was quick to erase every emotion from her features.
"We've had our fair share of others dealing with devils", Tav motioned at Wyll's direction. The man was still asleep; he needn't wake up early that day. "We'll never know what Zariel told him to get you in her hands."
"I have my doubts he was thrust into a situation like Wyll, if that's what you're getting at", Karlach moved to the bench beside Tav and sat down herself. "What's with that scarf, soldier?"
"Ah, nothing-"
Karlach furrowed her brows as Tav busied herself biting from her apple again. Her inquisitive gaze made Tav's skin crawl.
"You're not having a sore throat, are you?"
"Nah", Tav waved Karlach off, "don't care about it. It's fine."
Karlach was faster than Tav. Always have been. She reached out at the speed of light and grabbed the scarf, yanking it low enough for her to see those black marks on Tav's neck.
In response, Tav flailed, her half eaten apple flew across the camp and her bag fell on the ground.
"HICKEYS?!?"
Karlach's yell would've woken the dead. Tav was rapidly filled with dread.
"Gods Karlach, please-"
"You have HICKEYS on your neck??"
"Shut up!!" Tav hissed. "You'll wake up everyone!"
"Who-" Karlach at least, lowered her voice to a whisper, "who did it?" There was a beat of uncertainty before the tiefling's eyes darkened. She was observing Tav for quite a while now, and she learned how to read her well. "Gods, tell me it wasn't Gortash!"
Tav closed her eyes for a few seconds. She definitely didn't think last night, when she let him take her in his bed. This was the worst case scenario in her mind. She was in hell. A hell of her own making, at that.
"You think Gortash would look at me that way?" She waved it off and laughed. But her own words stung like a thousand bees. "Pah! And you think I'd let him bed me? Do you think of me so low?"
Karlach stared in her eyes for a long moment before she started to laugh.
"No, I can't imagine you letting him touch you."
This should've brought Tav comfort.
It did not.
The upcoming few days passed in a slug's pace. They've descended into the sewers and spent a considerable amount of time trying to find Bhaalists, with little to no success. They've only blundered into a few assassins who were searching for Tav in turn; they stood no chance, of course. When they emerged from the ground at last, they decided to spend a night in a tavern where they had access to a bath so they'd be finally clean again. Tav spent at least an hour scrubbing herself clean, going over everything in her mind about what they've found.
Bloody Bhaalists. They've hidden their temple well, but she will find it. She must.
When she walked downstairs to join the others for a drink or two, though, she was approached by a Steel Watcher. The construct looked even bigger in a crowded tavern.
"Citizen", it declared in it's usual monotone voice, drawing the attention of the other patrons to them immediately, "Archduke Enver Gortash requires your immediate presence."
"Requires my immediate presence?" Tav echoed, crossing her arms on her chest with a frown. "Whatever for?"
"You must depart and meet Archduke Enver Gortash immediately. Please, comply."
Of course. The stupid machine was just delivering the message, and Tav was sure there was no way she could say 'no' if the damned Archduke of the city wanted her. She was sure that the machine would simply drag her across half the city if she did not comply. With a huff, she turned to the others. Karlach was sour in the past few days underground; her engine started to overheat, and she was glad to be back on the surface to enjoy the hustle and bustle. Now, hearing the news that Gortash wanted to see her friend again, she looked even grumpier – as always, when the man was mentioned.
This gave her an idea.
"Alright", she nodded, "let me grab my backpack."
"You won't be away for all night again, will you?" Wyll asked her as she bypassed him.
"Only if I need a strong drink and a pair of even stronger arms to lull me to sleep", Tav sighed, "in which case… if you can't find me here in the tavern in the morning, I'm probably at Sharess's Caress."
Getting herself an alibi about where she's spending the night if not here, up front, seemed like a good idea… if things turned out differently than how she planned them.
If only she hadn't seen the look with which Gale was staring at the prices, written on a piece of paper on the wall in front of him – which he visibly didn't even see.
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