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bitethedevil · 2 months ago

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Strange Bedfellows (Lae’zel X Raphael): Chapter 1

Link to this fic on AO3

Summary: Lae'zel stayed on the Material Plane after the defeat of the Netherbrain. She vowed to rid Faerûn from Vlaakith's filth. She found plenty of allies to aid her cause, but not many people stand a chance against the ruthlessness and efficiency of the Gith, and she soon finds herself struggling.

Though she is not the only one who is struggling: Raphael has been left crownless, and he has angered the Lich Queen herself with his actions. He is in desperate need of assistance from someone who knows how Gith work and think.

Author’s note: I give to you: the cursed ship of Raph'zel (or Hell Frog, if you will). You're welcome and I'm very sorry. It makes sense to me. Both Gith and devils are lawful creatures, though still in very different ways...and I like to put characters who would hate each other's guts in a box and shake it violently <3 Also: the part about Raphael and Vlaakith and a certain object isn’t something I made up. You can find the slate in the Astral Plane.

I would strongly suggest that you read this on AO3 because there I have included a little Gith dictionary at the end.

After the defeat of the Netherbrain, Lae’zel had ventured out to wipe out every Vlaakith stronghold on the Sword Coast. She had vowed that she would not stop until every sarth and kith’rak had been defeated. She had found plenty of new allies to join her cause. People who she grew to trust and who she could call ‘friends’.

They were, however, not as efficient as her former group of allies. Her new friends were capable fighters, but no one else but her was Gith, and they stood little chance against the warriors who had trained all of their life. In the beginning they had been lucky and wiped stronghold after stronghold, but now, she was beginning to lose more people than they managed to kill. Morale was dwindling fast.

This time she had lost two dear friends when they had tried to storm what they thought would be a small camp. They were caught off guard and they only barely made it out alive. They had regrouped in a nearby tavern after.

“Lae’zel…” Tasar said in a gentle voice from beside her. “We couldn’t have known, so stop blaming yourself. Olyssa and Perth knew the risks and they still insisted to go in first. They wouldn’t want you to beat yourself up for it like this.”

She lifted her head to look at the elf. Tasar was a capable ranger and the one out of the group that always managed to stay positive no matter what. Even he looked like hell with the blood in his blonde hair and the tinge of sadness in his green eyes, even though he tried to hide it.

He was being strong for her and despite her appreciating the thought, she did not appreciate the gesture. She was not to be coddled. Though there was no reason to snap at him. No reason to make a bad mood worse. She only made a grumbling noise and turned her focus back to eating again.

She looked around the room. Her companions were dealing very differently with what had just happened. Murnum and Gulmin, the two twin dwarven paladins were drinking in silence. Grace, their tiefling bard, was drunkenly talking to strangers at the bar. Vincent, their human wizard, had been staring at a map and picking at his food for a good half hour by now. Tasar was still just staring at her in worry. It annoyed her to no end.

“We will set up camp soon,” Lae’zel said to those around the table. “Whoever is sober will keep watch. We will leave tomorrow at first light.”

Murnum and Gulmin took a gulp of their ale at the same time at her words, wanting to avoid being the ones to take the night watch. Vincent nodded a bit without ever taking his eyes off the map.

“I’ll take the first watch,” Tasar piped up. “You get some sleep tonight, Lae’zel.”

She gave him a short nod before going back to tearing apart the piece of chicken in her hands. Her eye twitched when she heard Grace’s high-pitched drunken laughter from somewhere in the tavern.

“Someone is talking with your girl, Vince,” Tasar said and looked at Vincent.

Vincent briefly looked up from the map to look behind him at the highly intoxicated tiefling woman. He sighed and looked back at the map.

“She is not ‘my girl’,” Vincent mumbled. “Let her drown her sorrows…We all mourn differently.”

“Mhm,” Tasar hummed and leaned over the table. “It looks like she’ll drown in that fancy lad’s brown eyes if you don’t do something. Come on, Vince…you like her. You should say something.”

“You should mind your own business, Tas,” Vincent retorted with a tightlipped smile.

They kept talking. It was irking Lae’zel how they could talk about such trivial matters when two of their friends were dead. They had lost many people, but it was angering her how desensitized they were all becoming.

There was one more high-pitched laughter from Grace behind her over the bickering of the two men, and that made her snap. She hammered her fist down into the table. The sound of it and her fiery gaze was enough to silence the whole table.

“Tasar, go out and scout for a place to camp,” she ordered cooly and then turned around. “Grace!”

Grace turned around two tables away from them with a lazy smile on her lips. Lae’zel froze for a moment when she saw who she had been talking to before her eyes narrowed at the man. A wide smile spread over Raphael’s face and his eyes lit up in recognition when he spotted her.

Lae’zel stormed over to them. She made a sharp gesture towards their table to Grace.

“But—”

“Now,” Lae’zel hissed at her.

Grace’s face was like that of a child that had just been told ‘no’, but she complied. She smiled politely at Raphael before moving to their table as she had been asked to. Lae’zel stared down Raphael.

“Lae’zel of K’liir…” he said with a charming smile. “Fancy seeing you here. One would expect that you—”

“No,” Lae’zel interrupted him with a sharp gesture. “No talking. Leave.”

Raphael’s smile got slightly tighter at getting interrupted.

“Now, now…” he said in a low tone. “There is no reason to get so defensive, my dear. My grievances are with your former leader, not you. Whyever, would I harm you for the sins of someone else? Perhaps—”

“I will harm you if you ever speak to one of mine again, chraith,” she warned coolly.

Raphael chuckled at that, though it was a cold sound. He did not like how little he was in control of the current situation. Lae’zel was not Tav, and she would not give him the time of day.

“You have grown quite sentimental, it seems,” he said. “How unlike you. Though I suppose it is only natural with how your little crusade is progressing…I hear that your allies are dropping like flies…”

Lae’zel walked away from him. She went outside to retrieve something from their packs. When she came inside again carrying the Orphic Hammer, a few of her allies got up from their seats. They only saw her carrying a big hammer and walking towards a man in a very determined manner, so they looked prepared to fight.

She dropped it at his feet. Raphael did not look particularly impressed. He glanced down at it with a bored expression and then smiled lazily at her.

“I was wondering what became of it,” he purred. “Is this supposed to bribe me to stay away?”

“Yes,” she said in a cold tone with a small smile and narrowed eyes. “If that is insufficient, perhaps a sword through that horned skull of yours might persuade you. I don’t deal with devils.”

“Ah, I see,” he said with a smirk. “You merely get others to do so for you, isn’t that so?”

Her hand moved to the hilt of her sword in warning. This was not the day to test her.

“Don’t forget who is responsible for you ever getting your hands on that silver sword of yours and who assisted you in freeing your people,” he said and then made an expression as if just remembering something. “Or, of course, who now owns your dear Tav’s soul because of it. In a fair world, would it not be yours instead, Lae’zel?”

Lae’zel drew her sword and the whole tavern fell quiet. Raphael looked at her with that grin of his and then at the patrons around them. He glanced down at the sword and then took one last look at her face.

“See you soon,” he purred and snapped his fingers.

The patrons gasped when flames danced around him, and he disappeared. He left the Orphic Hammer behind.

A few days passed. Lae’zel was seated on a bench a bit outside camp while she watched her companions train. She was eating her second lunch while looking at the map beside her, planning their next move.

“Does it get tiring?” she heard Raphael’s voice behind her, making her pause her chewing. “Eating enough for two simply to stay alive in a realm that you were not made for? Your body disagreeing with you constantly as it is dealing with a world it has not adapted to? And, worst of all, aging…”

Lae’zel finished chewing, placed the bowl of food beside her on the bench and reached behind her for her sword. She grabbed the hilt and pulled, but felt Raphael’s hand on hers, stopping the movement.

“Tsk tsk,” he tutted. “I only wish to speak with you. Just a little talk between former unlikely allies, and then I will leave you alone for now. I promise.”

“G’lyck,” she groaned in annoyance. “Speak if you must, devil, but do not expect me to listen to your mindless chatter.”

Raphael moved the map that was sprawled over the bench to sit down beside her. He crossed one leg over the other and leaned his arm on the backrest as he looked at her.

“I have always admired the Gith,” he said. “They are without a doubt one of the worst mortal races to make deals with, but I admire them all the same. In truth, your societies are not much different from those of the Hells.”

She stared at him with a blank expression.

“It is clear that you have failed in all of your dealings with Gith if you begin by insulting them,” she grumbled. “We’re not the same.”

“No?” Raphael asked. “We both believe that strict adherence to order, laws, and hierarchy will uphold our societies and cultures, do we not?”

“A devil might be orderly compared to a demon, but a devil’s order is nothing short of chaos.”

“For an outsider with no real understanding, perhaps,” he mused. “We wield order like a sword, and like a sword, it does not need to have pretty adornments or modifications to serve its purpose. As long as it works. I am sure a pragmatic woman like you would agree.”

“A sword, yes…A curious metaphor for someone who does not know how to wield one.”

“Pardon?” Raphael said, sounding slightly offended. “I am perfectly capable with a sword. I have fought in the Blood War, same as any devil.”

Lae’zel gave him a dismissive gesture and took a bite of her food.

“You are a bard,” she said once she was finished chewing.

“Of some, as I am sure you are aware, use swords,” he said in a slightly annoyed tone. “I am still quite proficient with a rapier even though it has been centuries since I was last on the battlefield, I can assure you.”

“You would call a rapier a sword?” she asked.

“It is,” he said. “I have never seen much sense in hacking and slashing away at a target, when one well-placed thrust could do the trick. I do, of course, know how to handle a longsword as well.”

She shook her head and finished her bowl of stew. She folded the map and put it in her pack.

“I am returning to camp,” she said. “I do not have time for chatter about your lack of martial prowess, istik.”

His eyes narrowed at her and his nose was wrinkled in annoyance when she started to walk away from him. Lae’zel discarded the bowl into a bucket and drew her sword as she walked towards her tent. Raphael appeared in front of her in a flash of fire.

“I will talk, and you will listen,” Raphael grumbled. “We have a common goal, you and I. You want to rid Toril of Vlaakith’s influence, do you not?”

Lae’zel sat down with her sword in her lap and looked up at him with a bored expression.

“You do not care about the liberation of the Gith,” she said. “You cared about the Crown of Karsus. I do not have it. Leave.”

His jaw clenched and he looked around as he noticed the stares he was getting from her companions who recognized him from the tavern. Lae’zel raised a hand as to dismiss them from taking action and kept cleaning her sword.

“I would not waste my time here if our interests did not align,” Raphael said in a low voice to her. “Your little merry band here are not suited for the task they have been given. I could lend you assistance. Soldiers whose sole life purpose is to fight.”

Lae’zel looked up at him again. She studied his face. His tone was off.

“You are afraid,” she said as if it was simply fact. “Why?”

His already sour expression soured further at the accusation.

“Careful, Lae’zel,” he warned in a dangerous tone. “You do not want to make an enemy out of me. Especially when I might prove to be your best ally in this little endeavor yet.”

She got to her feet, sword still in hand.

“Do you think me so naïve, devil?” she asked. “Do you think that I would give my soul for an incompetent group of devil soldiers? We have nothing more to discuss.”

“I am not asking for your soul, you stubborn child,” he hissed. “I am asking you to do what you set out to do and kill every last trace of Vlaakith’s vermin on this plane. I am asking you to—”

He was interrupted by the loud sound of Lae’zel’s silver sword getting sharpened on the grindstone. He saw red. He grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and snapped his fingers.

Lae’zel’s eyes were furious when she saw that she was in the House of Hope. She grasped for her sword, but it had not been transported there with her. A flash of fire danced around Raphael as he took his devil form. His wings spread out behind him and his eyes bored into hers as he adjusted his clothes and schooled a smile onto his features.

“Please, take a seat,” he said in a dark but calm tone and gestured to a chair at the table.

Lae’zel did not budge. She stared him down from where she was standing.

“You will send me back,” she hissed. “Now.”

“No,” he said in a warning tone. “You will sit down. You will behave and you will not leave the Hells before you have listened to every word I have to say. That can take minutes, hours, days, and it is entirely dependent on your behavior, my dear.”

She gave him a low growl of discontent before dragging out a chair and sitting down.

“Speak,” she ordered sharply.

Raphael sat down in front of her and crossed one leg over the other as he studied her for a moment. He would not be rushed in his own home.

“Did you ever wonder why I had the Orphic Hammer in my possession?” he asked.

She just kept staring at him with narrowed eyes, waiting for him to get to the point.

“I suppose not,” he said. “You and your dear friends were no doubt too busy at the time to ask the right questions. Had you done a little digging, you would have learned that you, in a sense, owe your miserable lives to me.”

She raised an eyebrow. There was a glimmer of something in her mind. An inscribed Githyanki slate that they had found in the Astral Plane. It depicted Vlaakith and a devil making a deal for the Astral Prism.

“Continue…” she hissed.

Raphael smiled at her.

“Come now, Laezel,” he said. “One must know a lock intrinsically in order to make a key to said lock, do they not?”

Her suspicions were proved correct, and she felt her blood boil at the revelation. Her nails dug into the armrests of the chair. She wanted to kill him.

“You made the Astral Prism…” she said in a fiery tone. “You helped Vlaakith enslave Orpheus, and you ask for my help! I should drive a sword through your skull for what you have done!”

Raphael held out a hand in a gesture to calm her.

“And I helped free him as well, did I not?” he countered. “It was business. I made most of my fortune from that deal, but I did not enslave your prince myself. Your former queen did. I did however make the Hammer as an insurance policy after I saw the mess she made. It was merely a question of time before her little scheme would be discovered.”

“And now she wants your head for defying her,” Lae’zel replied. “Should I return to the Astral Plane, then I will make sure that every living Child of Gith will want the same thing for what you have done in the first place.”

“I have done what you say,” he said. “But as I have told you, our interests align. You need allies to your cause, not enemies. I am motivated to help you.”

“Chk,” she scoffed. “You are motivated to help yourself, devil.”

“You need all the help you can get, Lae’zel…”

“You need my help,” she said. “Or else you would not be here filling my ears with your drivel.”

Raphael’s fist hit the table so hard that she thought it might split in two. She looked at him with an unimpressed glare. He leaned closer to her with fire in his eyes.

“I am being hunted for sport by Gith on the Material Plane,” he said in a low, angry voice. “I have Tiamat’s dragons circling my home here. I would never have given you or your friends the Orphic Hammer to break your precious prince’s chains, had I known you would not keep your word. The Crown of Karsus was my insurance that this would never happen. Had Tav kept her word, Vlaakith would have been snuffed out long ago.”

Lae’zel sneered at him but that did seem to calm her down for some reason.

“It was not my idea to snub you of it,” she said.

“I know,” he grumbled. “I admit, I should have made the deal with you instead of her. A mistake that will haunt me for millennia.”

She huffed in response.

“I am offering you soldiers,” he began in a softer tone. “Some who will be from the Material Plane and others from here in the Hells. In return I am only asking for you to lead them. I will guide you, of course, but you will lead them. Laws prohibit me from directly interacting in such a manner on the Material Plane.”

“I will not do it,” she said and shook her head. “Find someone else.”

Raphael looked at her with the disbelief of someone who was absolutely certain they already had the deal in the bag.

“What do you mean you will not do it?” he asked.

“What I said.”

“I can’t ‘find someone else’,” he said in an annoyed tone. “You know how Gith fight, where they hide, how they think. You will fight them regardless and I am offering you help to do so. Why would you not accept?”

“Would I sign a contract?”

“Obviously,” he said impatiently. “Though it would only be a necessary formality. I have to abide by Infernal laws.”

“Then your offer does not interest me. I will kill every last one of them, and I do not need your help, devil.”

Raphael’s claws dug into the arm of the chair to the point that she could hear the wood creak, and his jaw clenched. He raised his fingers to snap.

“Perhaps you will reconsider once more of your new friends die to your incessant stubbornness,” he grumbled. “Insolent child…”

He snapped his fingers and sent her back.

#raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion #bg3 raphael #lae'zel #lae’zel bg3

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mrsmiagreer · 3 days ago

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Okay now that I finally caught up with every audio, i have a few things to say

So yall…i don’t think i realized how long it’s been since I posted about an audio so im just now realizing ive missed SO MUCH.

okay so i don’t recall talking about

Gavin’s Sept audio

Vincent’s Sept audio

Vega’s Sept audio

Ollies Sept video

Hush’s Sept audio

Caller’s Oct audio

Brachium’s Oct audio

Caller’s Oct BA

DAMN Nov audio

BOTH PM Nov audios

Nov BA

and lastly, Sam’s Nov audio

I listened to all of them (except Vega, Ollies, and Brachiums)

I have little opinions, i liked most of them.

James BA was alr to me, i was super gassed for it and then i was like damn it’s not hitting how i wanted it to hit.

I like Caller’s (John..? Stranger..?) BA tho it was kinda hot.

The DAMN audio was soooo cute i had such a fun time listening to it. I love hux and dames sm🫶🏽.

I saw someone on here mention the fact that Sam and Darlin never kissed in his most recent audio and i noticed and i was actually kinda sad. All those silent moments i was expecting a wet noise but there was none :( (PAUSE LMAOO)

NOW IM MOST HYPE FOR THE PM SERIES BECAUSE WHAT IS HAPPENING?! I DONT GET IT. Is Asset in a time loop? Who’s on the other side of that phone? Is Marcus a key to this? What does Anton know that he can’t get out? What the hell is young James doing in the river ?????? i’m so intrigued

Alright thank you for comin to my ted talk 🙌🏽🙂‍↕️

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redactedverse #redacted headcanons #mia makes a statement

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merp-blerp · 3 months ago

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Gaylor/Kaylor and Oz: Parallels and Theories 🌼🌈❇️

CW: Light Spoilers for L. Frank Baum's Oz book series (books 1-15) and major spoilers for Return to Oz (1985). And this post is very late-stage-Kaylor-specific, so if that's not up your alley, that's chill.

Overblown Analysis Under the Cut ↓

As a huge Oz nerd, I and many others have noticed many Oz media parallels in Taylor's music. I wanted to piece together some I've seen mentioned and some I've noticed myself. More things could pop up as time goes on, so I could imagine me editing or making a second part to this post if necessary.

Part 1: Rainbows 🌈

In the 1939 film, Dorothy's home, Kansas, is portrayed as a dreary sepia or greige color, that way the contrast to the gorgeous technicolor of the land of Oz could be even more effective on the audience. Somewhat surprisingly I guess, this sepia color is reflected in the book, with Kansas being described as "the great grey prairie" and even W. W. Denslow's original illustrations of Kansas being colored in greige; the pages don't include more color until Dorothy is swept into the cyclone on her way to Oz.

So many of Taylor's lyrics describe events turning her world from colorless to colorful or vice versa. "The rest of the world was black and white // But we were in screaming color" from "OOTW", "You showed me colors you know I can't see with anyone else" from "Illicit Affairs", "If all you want is gray for me // Then it's just white noise, and it's my choice" from "BDILH", "Like a rainbow with all of the colors" from "ME!" turning into "I'm just... in shades of greige" from "The Prophecy", etc.

For TTPD, from a gaylor perspective, the sepia and greige theme of the album is supposed to reflect that for Taylor the closet is colorless and sad. It also invokes old Hollywood and how closeting is an old-fashioned practice figuratively and literally. Closeting is a practice based on outdated mindsets and fears and it's been a practice since Hollywood as we know it today was beginning to be established. MGM Dorothy actress Judy Garland was in at least one lavender marriage and might've been queer herself, but the latter isn't as confirmed as other victims of closeting of the time like, say, her husband Vincente Minnelli. Taylor often utilizes vintage imagery in her music, romanticizing it, but the song "TTPD" (and other points in the album) calls her out for it with her lover having to remind Taylor that they are living in modern times despite being held down by old-fashioned ideals. The Wizard of Oz (1939) film is arguably the epitome of old Hollywood nostalgia, so it makes sense for Taylor to use it as a way to tell the story she wants to tell, especially if it's a queer one since Oz is very special to a lot of queer people.

For what it's worth, Ashley Park performed the film's song, "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" on The Drew Barrymore Show in what looks to be the Christian Siriano rainbow dress. Fun! Curiously, I can't find a video of this performance, I just happened to stumble upon this GIF on giphy.com and an article talking about the performance.

As an extra tidbit, in the Oz books, the rainbow is personified in the character Polychrome, the youngest daughter of the rainbow. She happens to be featured in one half of a certain famous quote from The Road to Oz. Polychrome comments, "You have some queer friends, Dorothy," to which Dorothy responds, "The queerness doesn’t matter, so long as they’re friends." This quote is theorized to be the inspiration for the phrase "friend(s) of Dorothy" in queer slang. And it's nice to have a friend like Dorothea, of course. Speaking of which...

Part 2: Dorothy and Ozma 🌪️🌺

Dorothy Gale needs no introduction, but I will give Princess/Queen Ozma one since she's a more niche character. Ozma is the rightful ruler of Oz. The "Wizard", Oscar Diggs, was not meant to rule over Oz. He went to great lengths to usurp the throne from Ozma's father, Pastoria, and hide Ozma away as a baby, dumping her on a witch named Mombi, who enslaves her and disguises her as a boy named Tip so she and others won't know her identity. She learns the truth about who she is and takes back her throne in book 2, The Marvelous Land of Oz (This backstory is why Ozma is a trans icon, along with a sapphic one). Ozma and Dorothy meet each other in book 3, Ozma of Oz, and are inseparable from there on. A common queer interpretation of Oz sees Kansas as like the closet and Oz as being out and free. A part of why the queer interpretations of Oz work particularly well in the books is because in The Emerald City of Oz, Dorothy and her Kansas family move to Oz permanently when Kansas stops being liveable for them. So Dorothy becomes the second ruler of Oz and Ozma's "constant companion" at Ozma's "proposal", as L. Frank Baum describes it. Dorothy is the only person allowed in Ozma's bedroom unannounced, which is cutely domestic. Baum's story and John R. Neil's illustrations of the two often depict them as being very close, holding hands, and kissing. It's not really knowable if Baum intended for it to be seen this way, but many modern Oz book fans see them as a couple.

Naturally, there's the theory that Taylor's song "Dorothea" is about Karlie, as well as the fact that Karlie dressed up as Dorothy for Halloween 2023 and did a partly-Oz-inspired photoshoot in 2010, among other Oz-themed things. Also, after the first book, Baum had a falling out with Denslow and appointed a new illustrator, John R. Neil; Neil's design of Dorothy sports a blonde bob, which reminds me of the "Karlie Kut" a bit, even if that's coincidental. Since the Karlie as Dorothy theory is pretty well established, I want to forward a theory about Taylor taking on the role of Ozma.

For starters, Taylor wears a gingham green dress in her music video for "Karma (ft. Ice Spice)" as she skips and sweeps down a yellow brick road in red shoes, looped braids, and lemon beret. This outfit is a bit perplexing, as while it seems very Dorothy-inspired, it actively makes itself just different enough from how Dorothy is illustrated in the first Oz book and seen in pop culture. It could be suggested that this is for copyright reasons since 1939 Dorothy is not in the public domain yet and using that likeness would require making a payment. However, thanks to the book specifically describing/illustrating Dorothy as wearing blue and white gingham and pigtail braids, these features can still be used, as all of Baum's Oz novels are in the public domain. Oddly, the only potentially copyright-able aspect of Dorothy's costume is the one that Taylor kept, the ruby slippers exclusive to MGM's '39 film, since in the book Dorothy's shoes are silver. So why were all these unnecessary changes here?

My main theory is that Taylor is subtly invoking Ozma in a way that would still be recognizably Oz-ian, as I don't think most people would catch on to the Oz reference if Taylor dressed as a more accurate-looking Ozma. Hence why the gingham and red shoes are present even though Ozma is never described as wearing anything like that. Ozma is often depicted in long flowing white or green dresses. And while Ozma's hair is usually free in Neil's illustrations, her hair is sometimes tied into a bun, and Taylor's looped braids seem to be in the same family as a bun (I don't know how else to say that, I hope you get what I mean...). The lemon beret is hard to explain. As far as I know/can recall, lemons have never played a major role in any Oz media, so my guess is that the hat is meant to match the yellow brick road or maybe slightly invoke the fighting trees from the film and book. Since Taylor's outfit is similar but not the same as Dorothy's, it could be interpreted as Taylor dressing as someone adjacent to Dorothy, or a friend of Dorothy's, and Ozma would definitely fit that title. Ozma is also a fairy, so this also lines up with my Taylor is the beast to Karlie's beauty theory, since a fairy is a creature. And as the small, coincidental cherry on top, Ozma was originally described as blonde like Taylor in the story's text, despite the fact that Neil always drew her as a brunette. Dorothy's appearance outside of her clothes is rarely if ever given, that way anyone could see themselves in Dorothy, her design not mattering too greatly. The only clue to her physical looks is in the illustrations, but the consistency changes over the Oz series when it comes to Dorothy's design, so again it doesn't matter. Kind of like how, whether a song has male pronouns or not, it’s always describing Karlie, the "design" of the muse not mattering. And it actually does make some sense for Ozma to have the ruby slippers, even though she never had them in the books, but more on that in the next part. If Karlie is Dorothy, Taylor is Ozma.

An alternate, more flimsy idea is that Taylor is dressed as Dorothy in her green dress returning to the Wizard with the wicked witch's broom as proof that she melted her. However, this doesn't quite work for me personally, as in the film, Dorothy never got a green dress from the Emerald City. And while book Dorothy did get a "green" dress, she never had to bring the witch's broom to the Wizard and her dress wasn't actually green but white; it only appeared green in the Emerald City due to the green spectacles everyone was tricked into wearing by the shamming Wizard. And of course, book Dorothy's slippers weren't red like Taylor's, but silver. Maybe I'm being too particular, but to me, the details of the two titular versions of Oz make this idea weak.

Another idea is that Taylor is dressed as an amalgamation of Dorothy and the witch, which is definitely an interesting thought. In the 1st book, both Dorothy and the witch have no magic of their own and need to obtain magical items, like the silver shoes or the golden cap. But the difference is that the witch uses her power to do evil while Dorothy doesn't know the power she has, even by the time the shoes get her to Kansas again, as they presumably could do way more than that. The idea of Taylor combining the two is interesting, but again the red shoes put me off.

I think the Ozma theory works the best (and I think it's the cutest).

The story of Ozma being unrightfully taken from her throne and hidden away from everyone and herself reminds me of many stories told through Taylor's music. Lyrics like "I (I) don't (don't) like your kingdom keys (keys) // They (they) once belonged to me (me) // You (you) asked me for a place to sleep // Locked me out and threw a feast (what?)" from "LWYMMD" and trapped imagery in MVs like "Willow" feel somewhat reminiscent of that story.

Taylor isn't any kind of genderqueer as far as anyone publicly knows for sure, but Taylor definitely seems to have no problem with aligning herself with masculinity and taking on male roles. Take things like the wonderland photoshoot (Lordy! 🤭), Taylor semi-confirming she's Folklore's JaMEs, "The Man", "Peter", and maybe etc. Ozma being a girl but forced to present as a guy for years could be seen as similar to Taylor having to paint some of her songs about women as being from a male perspective, or some songs never being officially said to be from a male perspective being assumed to be so anyway, like "Question...?"

One more small parallel between Taylor and Ozma: Ozma is often pictured as wearing two poppies, one on each side of her head, seemingly in her hair or connected to her crown. Reminds me of "Say a solemn prayer, place a poppy in my hair" from "The Great War".

Part 3: Return to Oz 👠

Return to Oz (1985) is an unofficial sequel to The Wizard of Oz (1939) made by Disney. It takes the stories of The Marvelous Land of Oz and Ozma of Oz and combines them into an original story. At least in America, this is the only feature-length film to feature Ozma and attempt to vaguely adapt the novels more closely. (Context for RTO photos in the image descriptions, which is the case for every image and GIF on this post because why the hell not)

Return to Oz adds a setting that wasn't featured in any of the Oz books: a mental hospital. Aunt Em and Uncle Henry, concerned that Dorothy isn't sleeping and won't stop insisting Oz is real, send Dorothy to a mental hospital in an attempt to get her help (not out of malice). As we know, TTPD features the theme of asylums prevalently. The treatment chosen to help Dorothy is electroshock therapy, similar to Taylor receiving electroshock therapy in the MV for "Fortnight". In "Down Bad", Taylor says, "They'll say I'm nuts if I talk about the existence of you", just like how Em and Henry thought Dorothy needed psychiatric help when she talked about Oz being real.

When Dorothy stays over at the hospital for treatment, a character named Nurse Wilson (Kansas doppelganger of Mombi) escorts her to her room; Nurse Wilson wears a black dress very similar in style to Taylor's black dress from "Fortnight".

When the power goes out and the electroshock therapy isn't given a chance to begin, a fellow patient revealed later to be Ozma helps Dorothy escape the asylum by freeing her from the bed she's strapped to and bolting with her. Ozma and Dorothy slip into a river while running away, in which Ozma finds an abandoned chicken coop for Dorothy to ride through said river to Oz, Dorothy fearing Ozma drowned during the process until the end of the film. This is similar to Taylor and Post Malone's character escaping the asylum after Post cuts the power in "Fortnight". Ozma unstrapping Dorothy from her bed is similar to the nurse who unchains Taylor from the bed in "Fortnight", theorized to be played by Karlie herself. And Ozma finding the coop for Dorothy to ride away on is reminiscent of Taylor clinging to her piano in "Cardigan". Clinging to something when in rough water is common imagery, so it could definitely be coincidental, but I thought I'd mention it.

In this film, Ozma is trapped in a mirror by the witch Mombi, reminiscent of Taylor depicting herself as trapped behind glass closets in numerous MVs. After Dorothy saves Oz, she is the one to free Ozma from her glass prison by touching her hand and guiding her out of the glass, similar to Post and Taylor in the last scene in the "Fortnight" MV. Ozma in the mirror behaves like Dorothy's reflection, which reminds me of Taylor having Post's tattoos when she wipes her face in the mirror as if to say she's a reflection of his character.

Dorothy gives Ozma the ruby slippers before leaving Oz (Disney paid for the right to use them). That could help to explain why Taylor wears the ruby slippers that Ozma never had in the books if she's truly dressed as Ozma. And notably, when dressing up as Dorothy for Halloween, Karlie wore a full Dorothy costume, except for the ruby/silver slippers, arguably the most important part. As if Karlie was in "Kansas" and gave Taylor her shoes.

Dorothy chooses to return home in the end, but Ozma gifts her a way for them to communicate: through her mirror. This way Ozma can watch over her and when Dorothy wants to return to Oz, Ozma will make it happen. I've mentioned the parallels with the glass closets, but this also reminds me of "A tiny screen's the only place I see you now" from "Dorothea". In the book and '39 film, Dorothy uses her shoes to get back to Kansas, but in RTO, they are presumably going to be used to get Dorothy back to Oz when the time is right. So maybe after Taylor potentially comes out she will use Karlie's ruby slippers to sweep into the rescue and save Karlie from Kansas/the closet and back to Oz/freedom with her. Outside of RTO, it could also work the other way, with Taylor using the shoes to go home, especially with all the lyrics Taylor's had about returning home to/with her lover. Kansas doesn't represent anything bad in the original story, so it's possible that Kansas isn't a debilitating cage/closet, just home where you feel safe with the ones you love. Ozma also encourages Dorothy to keep their communication secret. Dorothy wants Aunt Em and Uncle Henry to know of Ozma, as she calls for Em to come and look as soon as she summons Ozma. But Ozma seems to see it as best kept quiet, no exact reason given to the audience from what I can tell, but it's understood by Dorothy and Ozma themselves. Pretty similar to Kar and Tay maintaining their closet for reasons we gaylors don't fully get to know, at least not yet.

(I didn't know where to put this little factoid, but in this film, the only times Ozma really smiles is at Dorothy. It's not important, just a bit cute and sad.)

And as a bonus for you Spade riddle fans out there, when Dorothy meets Ozma in the hospital, Ozma gifts Dorothy a pumpkin because "it's Halloween soon". The pumpkin is a Kansas doppelganger to an Oz character called Jack Pumpkinhead, who calls both Ozma and Dorothy "Mom" because Dorothy saved him from Mombi and Ozma built him and brought him to life. A bit reminiscent of Karlie and Taylor having Levi and Elijah if you ask me. I'm admittedly not a huge riddles person because it goes a bit over my talents, but I think they're intriguing and I'm curious if the riddles and Oz/RTO together would mean anything.

There's debate on whether Post's character is supposed to represent Taylor working with herself to get free or Karlie. I think it could be either or even both in a convoluted way. I like both theories. If "Fortnight" is based on RTO, the roles of Ozma and Dorthy seem switched, with Dorothy rescuing Ozma from the asylum. However, the tattoo mirror scene suggests that Taylor is mirroring Post's character, or playing him, and if that's Karlie, maybe the MV could be seen as Taylor playing Karlie in a sense since they're "twins" whose pasts are "parallel lines", while Post is either playing Taylor or Karlie; they are one and the same. The MV is really interesting to ponder in general.

Part 4: Miscellaneous Oz Connections ❇️

Lightning round (filled with tons of reaches)! ⚡️

In the "ME!" MV, Taylor and Brandon running up to the green building with a rainbow beam on it whilst in green marching band outfits looks similar to Dorothy and her friends running toward the Emerald City in the '39 film.

The all-pink soldiers in the marching band scene of "ME!" remind me of Glinda's all-female red army in the books.

In "loml", Taylor sings "The coward claimed he was a lion", a reference to the cowardly lion.

The men in the "ME!" MV falling from the sky with umbrellas reminds me of Dorothy and her cousin Zeb falling through the sky with an umbrella down to Oz in Dorothy and the Wizard in Oz.

Taylor might've been in a Wizard of Oz play at her school in 2006. The linked post doesn't give too much evidence admittedly, but I think it's worth saying that the play at least happened at her school.

I wasn't sure where to put this mini-analysis, but I think it's interesting that Taylor associates Dianna Agron with Wonderland and Karlie with Oz and the differences that could suggest. Alice and Dorothy go through similar adventures, but the two go about them very differently. Dorothy adapts to Oz very quickly and loves it there, enough for it to be her second home. Meanwhile, Alice certainly doesn't enjoy Wonderland as much as Dorothy loves Oz, itching to get out and stay out. Dorothy is very active in her role, making friends and changing Oz forever, while Alice passively goes through the motions and lets things happen before escaping to the next thing. It seems like Baum wrote the Oz books to give children lessons on friendship, feminism, and more, while Lewis Carroll wrote the Alice books with the exact purpose of saying nothing and giving birth to the genre of "nonsense writing". And Wonderland is definitely a dream in the original two novels while Oz is a very real place in the books. I know the associations seemingly have to do with the muses’ actual taste in fairytales, but I wonder how the differences speak to the story Taylor’s spun in her music about them. Assuming both Oz and Wonderland are freedom to some degree, does Wonderland being temporary speak to Taylor and Dianna as a couple, while Taylor and Karlie are still ongoing IMO, just like the Oz book series to this day (Canonical Oz books are still being written by different authors. There’s 40+ of them)? Is there something in the fact that Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland is an English fairytale and The Wonderful Wizard of Oz is considered the first American fairytale, and Karlie convinced Taylor to stay in America and live in New York rather than London where Dianna was? Do Alice and Dorothy’s different reactions to their discovered worlds speak to how both Karlie and Dianna feel about closeting vs being out or maybe how they feel toward Taylor in some way? I genuinely have no clue, but it's some interesting food for thought. (This isn't Dianna, Swiftgron, or Alice's Adventures in Wonderland slander btw, I don't know enough about Swiftgron besides the basics to do that.)

In Conclusion 🌼

I have no way of knowing if Taylor has even read the Oz books, seen Return to Oz, and knows all this information, but I think it's fun that these connections are there. If there are more connections you thought of or ones that you think I missed, let me know!

Thanks for reading!

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ghostofpatrickshand · 10 months ago

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some david tennant thoughts

alex hardy: sad scottish noises

10: hyper dumbass babygirl genius

14: GAY GAY GAY, DILF

casanova: the horniest of bisexuals

campbell bain: happy sunshine baby must be protected

crowley: snakey baby

harry watling: if bad decisions was a person

cale erendreich: fucked up serial killer

emmett carver: scary angry american

will burton: sad dad, gets away with murder 💪💪

donald peterson: poor baby tackled by children

peter vincent: sexy leather clad motherfucker

peter carlisle: horny little shit

#david tennant #tenth doctor #fourteenth doctor #alec hardy #casanova #campbell bain #peter vincent #peter carlisle #harry watling #will burton #donald peterson #holy shit theres a lot to tag #if ive missed any characters its probably because i havent watched them yet #crowley

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lilunholygremlin2 · 4 days ago

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Tw fem listeners, sad, and, listener x listener

Hi how are you are you still hurting from the imperium well so am I and I'm going to make it everyone's problem with head cannons

I feel like Angel and darlin were friends before the whole going after Quinn thing see in my mind Damien hired darlin, to protect Angel cuz he know that she could not be trusted on her own and that's how the whole friendship started incense Angel was the only one who cared for her she kind of grew attached like extremely attached like darling was the one who walked Angel down the aisle attached

Guy was not allowed to attend Angel's wedding nor executions/funeral because he was "not important enough" (for those who are confused I had can an angel and guy a siblings)

Lasko did absolutely put something in that drink

Angel's last words before they were executed was "I forgive you"

David soul looks after Asher after he passed and he constantly pushes babe towards Asher because he knows besides his pack the babe can keep him calm kind of

Just like David Angel's soul still looking after Damien she still loves him even though she shouldn't she still cares and that's why her soul is attached to his

There wasn't even a funeral held for darlin the only proper burial they got was from Angel after she found out what happened

To add to this fire well Asher was cradling David's nearly dead body darlin was there bleeding out a few feet away in clear sight being unnoticed

After Vincent got killed lovely didn't know what to do with herself for a few days she stayed in the basement just lying there emotionless and with no purpose

After freelancer and vindicator (I don't even know how to begin how to spell his name lasko was right) ran away freelancer gave him the name Gavin and he cherished it ever since

I'm sorry if I keep talking about these two but I imagine darling Angel's whole relationship is just the song good luck babe which weirdly hurts a lot more (considering I ship them heavily)

Again just like how ayngel looks after Damien she also looks after Huxley she knows how cruel Damien can be so she makes sure to give him some grace

Milo and Asher have called darlin a nuisance to their face... multiple times

Anytime it rains Gavin stays inside cuddled up with something with headphones to drown out the noise of rain and drown out the noise of kody's stupid voice

Guy routinely takes Honey to Angel's grave and tells her stories about his amazing twin sister

#redacted asmr #redactedverse #lil_unholy_gremlin #Sorry not as many tags here but I hope you enjoy #My goal is to make everyone else's life pain and suffering

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bunnytornado · 4 months ago

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Between a Desk and A Hard Place Chapter 4 TW: Blood, Violence, OC Death

Chapter 3 | Chapter 5 Cross Posted on Archive of Our Own

~~ Current Day ~~

“So…Your dear friend drugged you, how quaint. Seems humans haven’t changed much in the last few eons,” Lucifer muttered as he sipped his whiskey.

I frowned at him and tilted my head. “Seriously? Not all humans are bad. Some are still very kind and helpful.”

“For what reason,” Lucifer countered, a sad but dark smirk crossed his face. “Humans ever only do things for their own benefit.”

“I like to believe in Goodness, that folks can be kind,” I say and grin. “Greet the world with open arms.”

“Oh, how disgustingly naïve of a human. Please continue your story,” Lucifer groaned and shook his head.

A twitch of my eye was the only indication that I found his words aggravating, I took a deep breath before continuing my tale.

~~ 2 Weeks Prior ~~

As my eyes tried to open and focus, my groan came out muffled and dry. Darkness was the only thing I saw, no matter how much I tried to blink it away. I tried to sit up but found myself unable to move my legs or arms. My left hand hurt as I clenched my hands. I made a muffle cry and tried to get any help with my situation.

“Relax Christine, it’s better if you do,” Odessa’s voice could be heard. Her voice seemed to move, almost as if she was circling me. “I wasn’t expecting you to wake up so soon, but I suppose I got the majority of my work done. Such a shame though, the pain you will be feeling… I did try to ensure you wouldn’t feel it.”

I tried to plead for answers, but all that came out was muffled noises. I could feel the burning sting of tears forming, fear coursing through my veins. The blindfold I wore, soaking up any tears that did fall.

“Oh, poor Christine. I suppose I should give you an explanation, but I don’t think you quite need one,” Odessa sighed and struck out with her foot to roll me onto my back. Ignoring the cry of pain, her eyes rolled, and she started to walk around the circle once more. Her eyes scanned every inch of it, ensuring not a piece was out of place. “I do hope you make a better sacrifice than Vincent. He died within seconds. Sadly, I’m unsure if it was the ritual that had killed him or just how much blood he loss.”

Vincent… was dead? I started to squirm and try to get out of my bindings. Instantly, I felt a blade against my throat, forcing me to cease my squirm.

“Stop that. You’ll ruin the work I have done,” Odessa snarled and backed off again, ensuring her movement had no effect on the circle. “I hope you know that I’m fighting for something. It’s a shame that I have to sacrifice you, I really did just try to use Vincent.”

Without warning, Odessa slammed the knife into my arm and ripped it out, fresh blood oozing over the circle. As the dripped and oozed onto the circle, Odessa stood tall, and started to speak in Latin.

“O magne Asmodee, rex luxuriae.

Desiderii incendia das superque moras ardentes.

tuum auxilium peto ut longius abeam.

Praebe mihi quod gestio vicissim, hoc virginis sacrificium praestabo.

Quaeso praebe Incubum ut mea obsequere iussa et sequor lubidinem.

Finis iustificat medium, o magne rex Libidinis, Asmodee!”

With a burst of flames erupting from 5 candles, a gust of wind blew through the rooms. The candles placed around the pentagram within the circle slowly died out. One by one, their light flickered and blew out. As the last candle blew out, the circle glowed a bright pink, changing to purple, and then blue. With a blinding flash, Odessa had to cover her eyes. As she recovered from the flash, her eyes fell upon a tall figure.

Slowly, she stood and faced the pink-skinned Incubus. “Hello. My name is Odessa. I wish to make a pact with you,” Odessa said calmly. Assured her goal was in reach, she gave a dark smirk. The Incubus laughed and stepped over me.

“Oh, do you now? Well Odessa, I hate to be the bearer of bad news…but my King has specific rules for how we are to do dealings with mortals. See, if I was to make a deal with you, I would be in deep trouble since not only is this sacrifice made under duress, well…it was her blood that was used,” The Incubus stated and shrugged. “The name is Batter, and you my dear are now at my mercy.”

“W-what…but the grimoires... They did not mention this,” Odessa cried and backed away. “H-How dare you lie to me like this.”

“Do you realize how old those Grimoires are? Geez, humans always have to make things complicated,” Batter yawned out. “Always the same whines too.” Turning to the muffled noises of the bound human behind him, Batter turns and frowns. “Oh, hush for a bit. I’ll get to you next.” Batter’s clawed hand runs through his blonde spiked hair, a huff escaping him.

“R-Return to which you came demon. I have no use for an insubordinate Incubus,” Odessa snarled.

“Oh feisty. Normally I would just leave a warning. But you are incredibly rude...” Suddenly Batter was in Odessa’s face, a dark grin forming. “You must apologize to me mortal. Otherwise, I will take it from you by force.”

Odessa’s face fell instantly, realizing she was out of her depth. “G-Get away from me,” she demanded and backed away from the Incubus.

Swiftly, Batter grabbed the human, enjoying the distinct cry of fear before his other hand clasped over her throat, tightening. The sound of her gasping for air as he tightened his hand more, it was music to his ears. He always did love showing a human their place.

His tail flicked as a depraved grin filled his face. “Such a shame, if you would have just submitted, I would have let you enjoy. But alas you were rude. Plus, you did force another to be my treat for coming to Earth.”

He kept one hand on Odessa’s throat, the other coming up near her face. “Suppose I’ll have to seek you out when you fall to the Pride Ring. Hopefully you learn your place mortal.” With that, he let the human fall to the ground before shoving his claw through her chest. He grabbed her heart and crushed it, effectively killing the human. He pulled his hand free, and laughed as he watched the light fade from her eyes. “See you in Hell Odessa.”

Once the light was gone, Batter kicked the human away and turned to the bound one. “Such a shame about that one. She was kind of cute. Not a virgin like you, but virgins really aren’t my type.” Batter walked towards the me and grabbed me by the hair pulling me up by it. He ignored the muffled cries of pain as he thought of what he could do with his new toy.

“Hmm... What to do. Suppose I could just fuck you here and let you live to tell the tale. But, if I take you back home, I could just keep you as my little buffet. I think that would be better. I doubt a forced sacrifice would be much of a feast since you didn’t want to be involved from the start. But taking you home, I can train you. Teach you to be obedient and soon get all I need.”

“Yes, that is exactly what I will do.” With that, Batter threw me over his shoulder. The squirms I tried to do to get out of his grip, only ended up with me getting smacked on the ass.

“Stop, or I’ll just kill you too,” Batter snarled and snapped his fingers, stepping back onto the summoning circle. Within a blink, he was back to where he had been before, in his home. Dropping me on the bed, he got to work removing my bindings. With a swift movement of his claw, my bindings were released, and he removed my blindfold and gag just as quickly. “There, now you can see who will be your partner for eternity.”

I screamed and tried to back away, earning a harsh hair pull from the Incubus in front of me. “Listen here Human. You are MINE now. You will obey me, and you will submit. Otherwise, you will be ending up the same way as your friend.”

“Let me Go,” I cry and try to get loose. He tugged again, causing another cry.

“Fucking hell, shut up,” Batter snapped. Just as he was about to backhand me, his phone went off. “Batter,” he snapped into the phone. “Oh Lord Asmodeus…Yes. I did answer a summoning. I hand- Yes sir. I’ll come and give you a report of the summoning. I’ll be there soon.” He hung up and threw me to the bed. “Lucky bitch. I’ll be back to start taming you.”

Batter turned and left, leaving me alone in the room. He locked his bedroom door and left to meet with Asmodeus.

As I heard the lock click into place, I curled up crying. I didn’t understand what was happening, how any of this happened. Only that my life had turned to shit within a day.

After a few hours, I tried the door, it was indeed locked. I then checked the other doors in the room. There was one that led to a bathroom and another to a closet. I went to the window and saw we were on the ground floor.

I tried the window, and a gasp slipped from my lips as I found out I could open it. Slowly, I climbed out of it, and ran as fast as I could. Right out into the Hellhole that was the Pride Ring.

~~~~~~TRANSLATION OF LATIN ABOVE~~~~~~~~~~~

O great Asmodeus, king of lust.

You give the fires of desire and stay burning above.

I ask for your help to go further.

Give me what I have done in return, and I will perform this sacrifice of the virgin.

Please grant the Incubus to obey my orders and follow my will.

The end justifies the means, O great king of Lust, Asmodeus!

#hazbin hotel #helluva boss #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin x reader #lucifer hazbin #lucifer x reader #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar #no beta we die like adam #x reader #fanfic #Between a Desk and a Hard Place

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thestarfishinjootsoffice · 2 years ago

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Hello, so I know requests are closed, but I was wondering if you could do this once they're open again? Could you do a slashers with a so that suffers from an eating disorder? And they walk in and catch the reader purposely dousing their food in dish soap or something so it's inedible?

I don't know much about Ed so if I make any mistakes feel free to correct me. if something mean is said here please remember I'm writing this from the possible pov of the slashers . Also anon I really hope you're not suffering from an eating disorder and this just a request you had in your mind<333

Tw: eating disorder! Michael and bo being Michael and bo.

Slashers x reader w/ eating disorder.

Michael 🔪

Doesn't really have experience with it, he doesn't eat that much too. But will be concerned if he sees you drowning your food in dish soap.

If you tell him your reasoning, and his response? 'just stop looking at it then lol'.

Michael's insensitive and brutal, he'll just (internally) blurt out whatever he deems more logical. Even if you try to explain that's not how it works.

He's gonna lock and or put away food so you don't try to make it inedible again. (yes he cares about the food and also you.)

But he won't starve you. He wouldn't want his S/O to malnourished and become weak. (not in a pity way.) He'd try his best to make you eat at least a little bit of something.

Sinclair brothers 🕯

Bo is just really... Himself. He yanks your hand away when he sees you dose your food with inedible substance. and yells at you "what are you doing!?" you two are going to have a serious talk after that. Just really worried and angry Bo and lecturing. Knows he's not the best for these kinda situations but the most he can do is comfort you and distract you from this nightmarish hell of a disorder. He can't understand that well but tries to just for you.

Vincent is curious, are you going to eat that?? He doesn't know what to do. He quickly walks up to you and snatches the plate away from you and places it somewhere and makes a noise which sounds similar to why. After discussing your purpose to him he just hugs you tightly and brings you to his room just to chill out for a bit. He's very awkward and doesn't know how to help but he's always a good listener and follower.

Lester thought you lost it, what were you doing?? He stands over you and just says "are you going to eat that...." in the smallest and concerned voice you've ever heard him talk in. He has a sad look on his face hearing about your disorder. "I'm very glad you told me this, but please don't put bleach on your food next time." these next few days he's gonna try to raise up your self esteem and good eating schedule with all he can, even though it knows its better said than done. anything to help at least just a bit.

I'm so sorry this was so short, I can't have an idea with something I don't have experience with 💔

#michael myers x you #og michael myers #rz michael myers #michael myers x reader #sinclair twins #sinclair brothers #vincent sinclair #bo sinclair #lester sinclair #lester sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #slashers x you #slashers x y/n #tw eating issues #eating disoder trigger warning

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glazedsnail · 2 months ago

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FF For Free right here

I honestly thought I'd have this part done and then the last but I got WAY CARRIED AWAY

What's new, when you remember this was supposed to be a 1 part type of thing.

Misery Loved Company

ShanexOCFarmer (♀️) 18+

It's now 3rd person time and I hope it doesn't feel too awkward. Felt better to write tho. So. Idk. Enjoy.

Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 7 • Part 8

(8 parts lmfao)

My farmer and Shane are married by that point but it still feels like she's intruding. GO AWAY POPPY IT'S SHANE AND JAS TIME FFS

A late morning sun attempts to reach the earth through the clouds. In suspension, thick in the air, they dance in anticipation of the possibility of rain release, in anticipation of covering the ground with the relief of another fulfilling day for the roots, the trees, the worms.

Waking the forest in its track, the sound of a distant truck arises.

The dry mud expels its scent, bursting, tired of waiting for the salvation of renewed rain water.

It’s silent in the valley, as fall settles in slowly.

‘Uncle Shane!’

The little girl runs towards the man jumping down in the mud from his stopped truck. His tired gaze smiles at the sight of the pigtailed child. He lifts her up in his arms.

‘How’s my little chicken?’

She giggles.

‘I’m not a chicken!’

‘Are you not Charlie?’

‘Uncle Shane!’

They laugh. He carries her inside the ranch.

On the other side, behind a closed door, he can hear chickens happily clucking. A fickle distraction.

Everything is as he left it this morning. The smell of hay tickles his nostrils, welcoming him through the kitchen. He releases Jas who thanks her with a sticky kiss on his unshaved cheek. He smiles, somewhat proudly, knowing that she only gets candy when she’s had good grades with Penny. She runs to her bedroom, leaving him alone in the messy empty room. The bin is overflowing with boxes of frozen dinners and frozen pizzas. A dark cloud slowly settles in, giving the already sad little room a gloomy air. He sighs, passing his hand through his stubble, now incapable of hiding the tiredness in his longing eyes.

The buzz of the old fridge joins his groans as he tries to stretch from the long drive, the long morning. The length of the past two days.

He turns to his only accompanying noise and bites his lip. He knows he shouldn’t, it’s not even noon yet. But he knows the momentary blur would help him. He knows signing his responsibilities away to the alcohol sitting in the fridge would bring everything back the way it was before, and gives him the reprieve he craves.

But it would mean throwing all the work away.

He knows he can limit himself, however he knows that’s not what he wants right now. He doesn’t want a sip or to loosen up. He wants to forget.

‘Fuck’s sake’ he says under his breath. He pats his pockets, grateful to find the pack of cigarettes he was looking for.

‘Shane!’ Kitchen lights explode in his face.

He jumps, cigarette falls from his mouth.

‘You were NOT going to smoke in my kitchen.’

‘Lighter’s in the truck’ he only says to his defence.

Marnie brings her hand to the bridge of her nose.

‘I swear sometimes I wonder what I’ll do with you.’ She drops her grocery bags on the kitchen table and sits down. ‘Where were you this morning?’

‘Had some errands to run.’

‘I talked to Harvey,’ she continues, ignoring him. ‘Well I joined the conversation he was having with Caroline. You know how they brought Fern to the clinic yesterday. What a shame.’

Shane started to unload the groceries.

‘You saw it yourself haven’t you? Thank Yoba you were there for Jas, she was a mess! I spoke to Jodi too, she says Vincent keeps telling people he saved the farmer. What a precious little thing.’

She stretches.

‘Harvey says she’s fine. She’s in Zuzu city just now apparently.’

‘Huhuh.’

‘You’re awfully quiet today. More so than usual. Are you ok?’

Shane scoffs, rubbing his red eyes.

‘Just tired, Marnie, I’m fine.’

‘You haven’t snuck in a drink?’

The can of baby corn headed to the cupboard slips from his hand and bounces off the floor.

‘Of course not!’ He answers, outraged, desperately wanting a drink.

‘Oh well, I trust you. Still can’t believe she made you drink.’

Shane slams the runaway can onto the table.

‘She didn’t make me drink, we already had this conversation.’

Marnie stands up, she clearly wasn’t done with it.

‘All I’m saying is, she had her motives for bringing alcohol to a date with you.’

‘I am not an alcoholic.’

‘Shane. Shane. It’s not a bad word, it’s not an insult’ She says in a soft voice, walking towards her nephew. ‘But the sooner you realise you don’t need it the better.’

‘I know I don’t need it, I’ve not been binge drinking in ages.’

‘And I’m proud of you for that. Jas is happy. Now if you could just stop completely. And not let the first cute set of eyes looking at you drag you back down.’

‘I am the only one responsible for my decisions, I dug myself to an early grave, not Fern.’

‘Drag me back down? You think a beer or two will take me back to that sorry mess of a man I was every day?’

‘Bad company will, Shane.’

‘There are things that you can’t possibly know, you can’t work on yourself with someone like her around.’

‘What the fuck are you talking about?’

‘I like Miss Fern.’ she manages to scream above the noise.

‘Language, Shane!’

Voices are rising, fighting, higher than the other, not realising they all sting the very young heart walking in the room, seeking acknowledgement, wanting the voices to die down so she can play in silence. Words are unfiltered. She’s way too unfazed by this scene for her age.

The two adults stop.

‘Jas, please, go back to your room.’ Says Marnie, extending her arm to the child. She runs to Shane whose expression instantly softens. He crouches down at her level.

‘I like her too.’ He says, silently choking on his words.

‘We all like her!’ Adds Marnie. ‘She’s been nothing but an excellent neighbour, she takes care of the animals we sold her. But you both need stability.’

‘Jas, do you wanna go for a walk?’

Shane stands back up. He wants to talk, clearly having something in mind. Something bothering him that he needs to clarify. But the words slip away before they materialise.

He’s tired, and powerless.

‘With you?’ She asks, expectantly. She squeals as he nods, and runs to her room to grab her shoes.

‘Don’t you dare bring her to the saloon.’

Shane plants himself on the table, both fists clenched, eyes locked into Marnie’s who slowly sits back down.

‘I’m ready!’

‘Is that how you see me? A helpless drunk? Will I be nothing else but a screw up in your eyes? Do you think I don’t already know that? Everything I have ever touched just breaks right in front of me. I have been swimming, powerless, in this… dark sludge for ever. I had lost all hopes of ever being able to climb out of this hole I was digging myself in. The effort I was putting in was forever in vain, I wasn’t worth anyone’s lifting their single little finger. I’ve always felt like I wasn’t strong enough to swim back to the shore. I tried so many times, disappointing everyone at each failed attempt. All the times I’ve ever closed my eyes I prayed to who knows what that they would never reopen.

I wanted to stop swimming. I wanted to shut the voices and the easiest way was to stop fighting back and let the abyss take me. Let grief take such a hold of me that it would just let me die here and there. Simple, right? Give up. Yield. Throw myself back down the hole I am desperately climbing up without a moment of respite. I didn’t.

That’s the strength you will never see. Never want to see. You’ve only ever seen my shortcomings, my failures, my hours passed out drunk on the floor. Has anyone ever stopped to wonder why?

I hate myself, Marnie. I hate what I’ve put you through. I hate what I’ve put Jas through. I know, deep down, you’re only looking out for me, but you… No… I drove away the only person who actually stopped and listened.’

The gleeful voice of Jas cut the density of the air in the kitchen, like a breeze pushing the darkest cloud away. Shane wipes his eyes and grabs Jas’ small hand.

‘What do you say we go to the beach, little chicken?’

Shane takes a deep breath of the humid air. The ranch's distinct smells meet the beginning of autumn. A few leaves have started swirling down in the distance. He closes his hoodie up.

‘Do you have your coat, Jas?’ He looks down at the little girl who quickly zips up her raincoat, flashing him with a beautiful smile, missing a few teeth. A warm smile creases Shane’s cheeks. Who can miss the summer’s sun when accompanied by the everlasting smile of the fiercest person he knows.

‘Let’s go’ he says, clasping Jas’ hand in his.

He’s tempted to stop by the truck to grab his lighter but swiftly decides against it. The toxicity of her home life is enough, too much, shouldn’t even exist, if it weren’t for him.

The grey skies free up the path to the beach. They don’t meet anyone, much to Shane’s relief. They cross the old stone bridge, and Jas leaves his hand to go look overboard. The water is slowly flowing underneath, progressively picking up speed as the sky darkens.

Jas throws leaves and twigs she’d been collecting on the walk from the ranch. They gracefully twirl in the air and fall on the water, floating away in the distance.

Shane leans on the mossy stones, looking at Jas getting rid of her short lived collection. He catches a faint glimpse of his reflection in the moving water. Tired eyes, falling on a crooked nose. Thin lips distorted into a pathetic scowl. He’s not shaved in two days and it drastically accentuates his already rough appearance. His eyebrows seem to be constantly furrowed in an expression of contempt, and it takes him some effort to release his forehead muscles.

No, he doesn’t look any better.

He groans, leaving the moss covered parapet, resuming his walk to the beach. With a giggle, Jas rapidly follows.

The salty air attacks them both the moment they leave the safety of the town trees bordering the path. Shane grabs Jas and equips her with her raincoat’s hood, tightening it around her round smiling cheeks. He looks into her joyous bright eyes.

‘You’re such a strong child, Jas.’ he tells her. ‘Never let anyone make you feel any less than that.’

She smiles and hugs her uncle. He struggles to let her go, but definitely cannot fight against the alluring power of the tide pools.

Shane glances at the other side of the beach, connecting directly to the forest, and sighs.

He does not want to remember.

But her laugh is suspended in the air, caught in the neighbouring branches slowly losing their leaves.

He shakes his head. For a moment there the flying sand looked like two lovers lost in a passionate embrace. And he can’t fight back. The memories of that evening crowd his disturbed mind.

How was all of it only two days ago?

Eyes half-closed, he sees her proud smile as she hands him a slice of her own homemade pizza. He remembers her trembling body recalling events better left in the past. The tenderness with which she cradled him in her arms, showing her strength against what would have made anyone else bitter at life.

Her golden hazel eyes wet in the setting sun looking at him with genuine fondness. What he took for genuine fondness. What he thought. The feel of her hair in his hand. Her body in his arms. Her lips.

‘Uncle Shane! Look!’

A shiver takes him back to the present. He turns to Jas. She’s crouching next to a tide pool and waves furiously at her godfather for him to come and see her exciting find.

‘What’s that, kiddo?’

She points at the slowly flowing strands of what looks like thick purple hair.

‘An amemom, anom… Anemone!’ She manages to say despite her excitement. ‘Miss Penny showed one to us once at the library.’

Shane crouches in a groan, ignoring the creaking of his knees.

‘What’s it doing here?’

‘It lives here. Look, it’s stuck onto that rock. And if you touch it, it hides away, like a snail. But you shouldn’t touch!’

He smiles at her, pride swelling up in his chest, and finds himself praying for nothing bad to ever happen to her. Again.

#stardew valley fanfic #fanfic #writing #failed writer #sad chicken man #stardew valley #stardew valley shane #sdv shane #sdv #i swear i like Marnie #fanfics #fanfiction #fanfic writing #stardew shane #shane x oc

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othervee · 9 months ago

Text

Season 3

On my rewatch though not finished yet. I had to take a break. Thoughts so far:

In the opening scene the queen doesn't even LOOK at Wilhelm as she comes in. Not a glance! Although she certainly watches Simon when he comes back after the little recess.

Boys! Why didn't you pre-warn your respective mothers about the drugs, at least? Sitting in front of August and his stepdad at a mediation is the second worst possible way for them to have found that out, and surely you would know he would bring that up because that's the only leverage he has apart from being the spare.

LOVE Wilmon boyfriends era. I love the soft little smiles and touches, the heart emojis, the way they say "puss" when they say goodbye. The fact that when they see each other for the first time they kiss in front of everyone and all the Hillerska background noise and chatter completely fades to nothing, because there's nothing else but them in the world.

Happy Wille is so adorable, decorating his bedroom with the poem and the polaroid of Simon... and then sitting down and being restless. Everything has changed and nothing has changed at the same time.

The way it cuts from the fight scene to Wilhelm and August sitting silently in Boris' office is LOL forever.

They are actually talking about the racism and classism. And again, it has to be the elites who find out it exists and what form it takes, to see that change should happen. August, who scoffed at Wille's "socialist safari" in season 1, is now angry when Vincent talks about them "sitting on the bus to the slums". Felice is not just aware of the microaggressions but actively pointing them out to the other girls. So glad that she points out the hair thing - and Stella's utterly tone-deaf reaction.

(There's at least one scene back in s2 where the housemother tells her to put her hair up and then Stella or Fredrika, I forget which, also puts hers up. Is there one in s1?)

And Felice's reaction when she hears about her father's experience at Hillerska. He started out as himself and ended up a complete cookie-cutter perfect upper-class Swede, and he thinks that's OK. And that it's important for her to do it too.

The Wilhelm/Kristina and Sara/Micke parallels they are drawing this season are really interesting. They represent potential futures for their children. Micke is Sara if she retreats from the world and from trying to form and maintain true relationships. Kristina is Wille if he retreats from himself and continues to put up a facade.

Micke has some pieces of childrens' art on his walls and a photo of a little girl... Sara as a child? Sara and Simon's artworks from their childhood? If so, that's really powerful and sad.

Wille's frog prince has the YR stylised crown:

Loved the kids all partying together. Kids are kids, whether rich or not. But oh, Fredrika, you are such a naive little nuffnuff.

Wille's SSSHHHH! to Simon in the tent is so like Kristina.

I am not surprised by the Erik thing at all. But I am curious about how that particular initiation went down, and how the homophobic taunting was stopped. Nils says, "I didn't dare to speak up". August says, "Hey, at least we put a stop to it. We kept our promise. We didn't do the same thing to our first years." Did one or both of them react? Who was it who promised to stop it, and to whom?

I have not forgotten that in s2e3, when Wille asks Boris whether Erik used to come to him, Boris says, "It can be useful to see someone like me, so that you don't feel you have to risk hurting somebody." We see that panic attacks run in the family; do violent outbursts, too?

I have so many thoughts about the royal family this season but that's going to take a longer post. "Not in my family", eh, Wille?

#young royals #young royals analysis #young royals season 3 #young royals spoilers #young royals season 3 spoilers #yr s3 spoilers

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askthesinclairs · 3 months ago

Note

*holds up a firehouse near Vincent*

Take a bath

*spray him*

*Sad and moist Vincent noises.. and he starts to strip cuz he doesn't like the feeling of wet clothes on him-*

"bleeehh.."

#house of wax #house of wax 2005 #vincent sinclair

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cybervesna · 1 year ago

Text

I rarely show (if at all) the beginnings of the relationship Vincent and Hanako have. The short answer is that I want to focus on those good times because working with them brings me joy.

However, it doesn't mean I don't include those bad scenarios in my headcanon. I do, and here is one of them (been sitting in my head since I saw EEAAO and did it because of a stupid meme LOL).

My Hanako doesn't understand what love is. How could she with the life she had? A life that made "love" a duty, a condition to fulfill, wrapped in golden gift paper soaked in poison.

She doesn't understand Vincent would do some things for her just because she asked. She doesn't understand his kindness has no price, nor she knows how she hurts him not even trying to once choose herself over Arasaka.

Vincent is ready to be with her, but all she has to do is ask which she never really does.

"Save travel, V. And thank you for your service." Her bland voice somehow became sharp like a knife stabbing his heart.

Was everything he did for her, just a service? Was he just a mere mercenary she hired to do the job? Was there nothing else at all? Were her actions just a game to make sure, he will do everything she wants till the end? Or perhaps, there was a glimpse of hope, that for Hanako, there was something there as well?

Vincent refused to believe that her prolonged staring at him when no one looked didn't mean anything. Or, the text messages about everything and nothing from encrypted numbers had no value to her, even though a second of her life is worth more than Vincent's will ever be. After all, Hanako went as far as telling Saburo fucking Arasaka, that he - Just V - is one of a kind. And it was her - Hanako fucking Arasaka - who not long ago kissed him in the elevator.

Even though her actions broke his heart several times before, every time he refused to give up himself.

"That's it? No "Call me when you get to the space station?"

To his surprise, Hanako's porcelain face broke its perfect image, as her eyebrows lifted, but not a sound escaped her ruby lips. Just like the soundless dench of the blood of the people he killed for her. "Okay, I see..." He looked at the floor. It really is it.

Hanako haven't moved an inch when Vincent turned away from her. Nor objected as the only sound between them was the squeaking noise of the wooden floor. The sad irony of his delusion had its stupid consequences in his head...

“So even though you have broken my heart yet again, I wanted to say…" He stopped and turned to her for the last time.

She was watching him carefully as he smiled at her. He wanted to remember her like that. Confused, but giving that precious gaze just to him.

"In another life, I would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you.”

At least, he could have the final word on that.

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protemporescitor · 7 months ago

Text

Disrepair

Cloud glanced out through the window again, peering out at the wild blue yonder. The Tiny Bronco soared high over the ocean, fast approaching the northern continent. They would soon reach their destination. After that...

He shut his eyes for a moment, stopping himself from thinking about it too much. "One step at a time," he reminded himself.

Opposite him, on the starboard aisle, he saw Tifa sleeping peacefully in her seat. He was relieved to see her getting some much-needed rest at last. She'd hardly spoken a word since they had left the Ancient Capital. No doubt she was in shock, still processing Aerith's death. It had hit her especially hard, given their closeness. He just hoped her dreams were pleasant ones.

He looked around the plane, checking in on the others. It was obvious that they were all exhausted from their journey, completely drained both physically and emotionally. He couldn't quite tell with Vincent whether he was asleep or merely pretending to be. In any case, he'd kept his eyes closed for most of the flight, either deep in thought, or in a deep slumber. Similarly, Cait appeared to have temporarily switched himself off, sitting slumped in his seat, unmoving. Again, it was hard to tell.

Red XIII lay curled up on the floor next to Tifa, his fiery tail swishing back and forth in his sleep. He'd agreed to stay near the centre of the aisle to keep it from coming into contact with any of the fuselage's more sensitive equipment. Meanwhile, Barret had moved up to the front of the plane and was busy chatting with Cid. Cloud couldn't make out their conversation over the noise of the engines, but it seemed like he was occupied with picking up on some of the finer points of instrumentation from their pilot in order to kill time during their flight. Or maybe he was just trying to keep his mind off things.

Cloud suddenly noticed that Yuffie was missing from her seat. Concerned, he unbuckled his belt and got up to look for her. It didn't take him long to find her, given the small, cramped space they were in. She'd disappeared into the far corner at the back of the plane and was curled up in a fetal position, head down, slowly rocking back and forth. Motion sickness again, he assumed.

He got out a small box of tranquilizers, something that he'd picked up on the road to help her combat her nausea, just in case it got to be too much for her to handle. He was about to offer her some when he realized that she was sobbing quietly. Growing worried, he knelt down in front of her.

"Hey... you okay?" he asked, his voice soft.

Yuffie shook her head without looking up. "It's not fair... Why her?"

"Why any of us, for that matter?" he thought. "It wasn't her time. Or anyone else's."

"It'll be okay, Yuffie," he said, trying to reassure her in spite of his own misgivings about their situation. "We have to keep going."

She finally raised her head to look up at him, her expression turning to anger. "How can you be so calm?" she chastised him. "Aren't you pissed off?"

"I..." Cloud paused. For a moment he was lost for words, troubled by turbulent thoughts. She was right. He had been feeling strangely elated, even sanguine, after they had left the capital. Now, the realization was beginning to sink in.

Aerith was gone.

Wasn't she?

He didn't know what he had seen, exactly. What he'd experienced. She was... alive. And then, she wasn't. It dawned on him that, somehow, in his mind he still hadn't accepted the fact that Aerith was dead. He knew that he should feel something, anger, sadness, guilt... but right now, he simply felt numb.

"I don't have a choice," he said at last, struggling to find the right words. "I'll... mourn Aerith when it's time. I have to stop Sephiroth first, or else... everything she did will be for nothing."

Yuffie's expression softened. He could tell that she was still upset, but she seemed to understand his reasoning.

Cloud gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "And I'm gonna need your help to do it. You with me?"

Yuffie wiped away her tears, then nodded. "Yeah."

"Still feeling sick?" he asked.

"Just a bit."

"Here, these might help," he said, slipping the medicine into her hands. She quickly downed a couple of pills, then put the rest away in her pocket.

"Thanks, Spikey," she said, her voice weak.

"Any time."

Seeing the usually energetic and carefree young girl in such a state of disrepair ate away at him. Her bravado, he knew, didn't make her invincible, but this was an especially harsh reminder. He wished he could do more for her, but as far as he could remember, he'd never suffered from motion sickness. Flying was especially bad for her, and now she was not only airsick, but heartbroken as well. He couldn't imagine how rough it must be for her, having to struggle with both at the same time.

"She must be going through hell," he thought. Still, he reminded himself, she had put up with every bumpy ride and ramshackle vehicle they'd come across so far, in spite of her discomfort. A reminder of just how tough she was, how determined to see things through until the end. Even this torment couldn't extinguish her fighting spirit. Though she was down and out for the moment, he had rarely felt more admiration for the young ninja girl.

He sat down next to her, intent on staying with her until she was feeling better. The two of them rested together in silence for a minute, looking out into the front of the plane. There wasn't much to see, save for the pale blue sky, given the way the pilots' seats obscured the windshield.

"You know, Cloud," Yuffie finally said, "for being such a jerk, you're an awfully nice guy."

"Just don't get used to it."

His reply elicited a chuckle from her, followed by some more sniffles. "Don't worry, I won't."

Cloud leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes, sensing the vibrations of the engines reverberating throughout the plane's body. The slow, rhythmic thrum was enough to lull anyone to sleep, and he began to doze off as the sheer, unbridled fatigue from the past few days finally caught up to him.

He was ever so slightly startled when he felt Yuffie wrapping her slender arms around his forearm, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Yuffie?"

She held onto him a little more tightly, entreating him not to pull away from her. Despite the chill of their surroundings, her body felt warm pressed up against his.

"Just... until the ride's over. Okay?"

He looked at her, a little taken aback, hearing her echoing Aerith's request from that night on the Skywheel. Could her choice of words merely be a coincidence?

She peered up at him with a pleading look in her eyes. Not the puppy-dog eyes she sometimes hit him with when she wanted something more frivolous from him like a Gold Saucer token or a new piece of materia, but a sincere plea not to leave her side. He could count the number of times that he'd seen Yuffie allow herself to be vulnerable like this on one hand, and he considered himself fortunate to even know this side of her.

She held his gaze, fighting back fresh tears even as she gave him her best effort to smile at him through the pain.

He smiled back at her.

"Okay."

#final fantasy vii #final fantasy 7 #ffvii #ff7 #ff7 rebirth #ffvii remake #final fantasy vii rebirth #ffvii rebirth spoilers #cloud strife #yuffie kisaragi #clouffie #cloud x yuffie #yuffie x cloud #cloud strife x yuffie kisaragi #yuffie kisaragi x cloud strife #ao3 #rarepair

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