#-too much even if flint does have 2 hands | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

last-starry-sky · 5 months ago

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KATE the way you left it! I’ll be honest. He can watch us have the most sensual, passionate kiss and go down on each other but if he touches her, I’d explode with jealousy. I’m a hypocrite 💀 does asshole Simon just want to get back at us and make us jealous in a threesome?? (thank you for your lovely writing 💕)

*rubs my greedy hands together like a bug* oooooh boy :)

ghost/bi!reader/f!oc (no name used, so she can be read as another reader insert but w/e)

[MDNI - NSFW: 4.2k, weird jealous simon being a creep , pet-names, oral, slight dub-con elements but both girls just roll with it so ymmv, forced m/f/f threesome, dirty talk, light d/s elements, Simon and oc talk you through it, unprotected piv, cumming on the outside, hand-job, implied cum eating. ]

thank u btw! sorry this took almost a month! i really wanted to give this a good part 2!

You don’t know what made you want to sink directly into the concrete more: Simon staring at you, leaning one arm cooly out the window, eyes hard and disappointed as they sweep once up your form taking in your short shorts and skin-tight tank top. His jaw is clenched so hard you think he’s going to crack a tooth. It makes you want to cry, beg, run toward him and explain it’s all a mistake. That you didn’t mean it. It’s not what it looks like.

Or, the terrible pit that opens in your stomach as his eyes drift ever so subtly to the women curled around your back. Her hands grab at your thighs, vining up to your waist, before giggling in your ear as she hugged your chest and rest her head on your shoulder. There’s a glint in Simon’s flint-hard eye, a softness to his lips that he tried to hide with a cough and stubborn turn of his head, but you saw it. You almost wish you didn’t. Maybe it was just the way she swayed her hips behind you, dress glittering in the streetlight.

“Sooooo,” she said leaning hard on her words, sounding more drunk than she actually was, “this is your guy?”

Simon’s fingers drummed against the side of the door as his dark eyes were turned back at you, staring through his brow. There was not a hint of impatience in the action.

“Yeah,” you answered turning your head to the woman behind you, wary of breaking eye contact with Simon. “Kinda. We-”

“Well,” she said matter-of-factly, “just so you know, my offer stands.” She hugged you closer before whispering in your ear. “Do you need me to get you out of here?”

You shook your head. You didn’t think Simon would hurt you, or her, but you hated for a great evening to be ruined.

“Oi!” Simon called out, lightly smacking the outside of the car door to get your attention. “Not waiting all night like a bloody taxi. Get in.” Then, after a long moment looking the pair of you over, tacked on, “Both ‘f you.”

“You don’t-” you tried to tell the woman behind you, but she was already twining her arm around yours, leading you to your car.

She gave Simon a smug, celebratory smile as she bounced past him, dress shimmying alluringly around her body as she hauled you behind her. She turned to you as she opened the door, letting go of your hand and pulling you in by the small of your back for a quick kiss. You could feel Simon’s hot stare on you as she lingered on your lips for just a bit too long.

“Thanks for the ride,” she said before ducking into the car.

You followed quickly behind her. Simon had the drivers seat pulled all the way back to fit his long legs, so you squished into the middle seat, close to your new “friend”.

“Cuddle up, baby,” she giggled, pulling your legs into her lap. “Plenty of room.”

You heard Simon grunt out an exasperated noise as he jerked the car back out into the lane, swerving angrily around the smokers loitering outside the club. Your heart pounded as he sped down the dark, busy road, zipping in between cars with little concern as to how much he was throwing the two of you around in the backseat.

“Okay?” she whispered as held you, soothingly stroking her hands down your back as you rocked to and fro until you relaxed into her shoulder.

You nodded, lifting up your head to hug her. She sighed as your cheeks pressed together, hands drifting to your hips, letting her fingers trace the frayed hem of your shorts. She smelled so good. She must have dabbed a bit of perfume behind her ears, because your nose lit up with the bright, spicy scent of oranges. You turned your lips to her cheek, inhaling it, and she moaned a rough “oh”, hands curling into the skin of your thigh.

You only intended to press a kiss, just one, to her neck, but that turned into a line of open kissed up to her cheek. You didn’t need Simon noticing. The woman underneath you had other plans. She turned her face to meet you, capturing your lips. She filled your mouth with lemon and seltzer and the dry, piny, acidity of gin. You couldn’t help but melt into it, chase after it, lick it wildly from her mouth. When you palmed at her breast under the glittery, nubby fabric, startling away as she moved. She broke the kiss to moan against your mouth.

“Again. Please,” she whispered, dark and needy, placing your hand back on her chest.

A car screamed around you, horn blaring. Simon swerved the car back and forth, throwing you onto your back against the opposite seat with her on top of you.

“Keepin’ y’ own fuckin’ lane!” Simon shouted out the window. “Fuckin’ cunt. Learn t’ fuckin’ drive,” he said hoarsely, slamming his palm down on your poor steering wheel.

The woman on top of you giggled into your neck. You looked up in time to see Simon’s eyes narrow in on yours in the rear view mirror. Your heart was pounding out of your chest.

“Wha’s so fuckin’ funny back there?” he growled. You heard him hit the turn signal, slow down, and pull over into the left turn lane.

She pulled her head up slightly, body shaking as she tried to contain her laughter.

“Distracting you?” she asked before collapsing back into your neck, giggles bubbling out.

Simon scoffed, rolling his eyes as he went back to watching traffic.

She didn’t stop kissing you the rest of the ride. Even the change from Simon zipping down the busy, downtown streets to the slow crawl down the narrow roads of your neighborhood didn’t register. You were too busy tweaking her nipples through her dress, and then under her dress, while she rutted against your thigh.

It wasn’t until Simon opened the car door that you came crashing back to reality. The both of you looked up at him as he glowered down at you. Your view was upside down, making him look so much taller and intimidating. The way he leaned that stocky, muscled body of his against the car door while he waited, the same body that filled out those stupid light wash jeans and baggy hoodie, it made you want to push up his shirt to see those muscles he had sent you pictures of all those months ago.

You blushed. You hated how horny he made you, how you still wanted him after what an asshole he’d been since his arrival.

“Out,” he commanded, stepping back as you lost the warmth on top of you.

You detangled from each other before shuffling out under Simon’s heavy gaze. He leaned against the door, arms crossed, his bulk pushing the frame slightly to the side. You couldn’t meet his stare as you waited in the cool night air for the other woman to get out. When she did, it was sensual, lurid, like she was still putting on a show. She didn’t give even a glance over to Simon. Instead, she pressed herself to you, pulling you into a tight hug.

“Thanks for a great time tonight,” she said sliding her hands down your back to your ass, grabbing a handful as she bit her lip.

Then she turned to Simon. You turned your head with her, catching him as he palmed the front of his jeans.

That was nothing. Probably, absolutely, nothing.

“Want me to umm . . .” she said coquettishly, batting her eyelashes as she trailed her hands back up your body, uncaring that she pulled your shirt up too. “. . . call an Uber?” She finished her sentence with a press forward into your breasts that made you shiver. “Don’t want to intrude if you two-”

“Get inside,” Simon commanded before popping off the side of the car and walking toward your backdoor, leaving no room for argument as he left you looking at one another.

You waited for your backdoor to slam closed behind Simon to say anything.

“You can leave if you want,” you said pulling away until it was just your hands cupping her cold shoulders. “I had a great time. I really did, but I should, you know,” you tipped your head toward the house, “clear things up with him.”

“You sure?” she asked sadly.

“Yeah,” you said letting your eyes and body drift away.

You tried to search for the right way to phrase your thoughts, but came up empty. The details of his life you’d been able to pull from your conversations had been brief, but always harrowing. It felt wrong to divulge to a near-stranger what little he’d told you. It was a lonely, bleak life he lived, with so much was still sealed away, secret, buried deep deep in the past. Maybe that was why you’d let him attach to you, why you’d still let him in after how he treated you. He was a old, abused dog of a man. Anyone else would have turned him away, but your heart was soft, always too soft. Even if it ruined this little bit of happiness, you’d give him another chance.

“He’s been through a lot, but he’s a good guy. Funny,” you finally said as her hand curled back around yours.

“Then I’ll stay,” she said resolutely, smiling as she pulled you toward the door.

The two of you stumbled through the dark kitchen, hands already roaming, trying to touch each other through your clothes as you stifled your laughter. She let you lead from here. You pulled her backwards, down the narrow hall of your little one-floor bungalow, past the bathroom and guest bedroom you had set Simon up in. Both were dark.

It did cross your mind for a moment, as she was biting at your top lip and pawing at your face, that you didn’t know exactly where Simon was, but the thought evaporated as you pushed her against your bed. She pulled herself up and then you on top of her. Both of your shoes clattered to the floor along with your shorts.

“Want you,” she moaned against your lips, pulling your shirt off. “So bad. Just, please, touch me, however you want.”

You hiked her dress up and off, slipping your hands underneath her panties at her hips. She sighed as you pulled them down. She was fucking beautiful, pussy absolutely drenched and quivering, waiting impatiently for you. You liked how clear she was with you, communicating as best as she could even this turned on. Still, you were more than a little nervous with what you had to say.

“I’ve, um . . . never done this before-,” you whispered, trailing your hand hesitantly across her mons.

She placed her hand on yours and pushed you down, forcing your fingers through her slick folds. Oh, she felt just heavenly. It made you squirm a bit yourself.

“Just do what feels good for you,” she instructed breathlessly, jumping as you circled her clit.

You nodded, letting her shuffle up the bed to give you room. She let you lead again, falling back against the mattress, allowing you to position her legs as you got in a comfortable position.

Your first lick up her slit was light and experimental. Fuck did she taste good, though: sweaty and briny and real. You dove in again and again, listening to her light sighs as she curled her fingers in your hair. When you got lucky and had someone eat you out, (god it had been so long) you liked it when they started slow and built you into your orgasm. You did the same for her, tongue light as you swirled around her clit, leaning in to suck at it just to hear her breathy moan. You hoped she would like it.

You jumped as a blunt finger traced up the seam of your pussy through your underwear.

“Gon’ make her cum, lovie?”

You whipped your head around, gasp falling from your mouth. Simon was leaning over the bed, his body only visible from his chest up like he was materializing out of the dark like some sort of specter.

You tried to turn, to cover yourself, anything, but it was no use. He drew himself further out of the shadows to kneel on the bed behind you. The hand on your pussy planted itself between your shoulder blades, pushing your face back down into the cunt in front of you.

“Finish ‘er off. Don’t pay me no mind,” he said low and dark, saddling up behind you.

You flicked your eyes up to the woman in front of you, nervous as to what she would think of this. To your surprise her hungry, low cast eyes were on Simon. She bit her lip and tossed her head to the side before looking back down at you as her hand crawled back to the crown of your head.

It spiked something in you, that look she gave him. It made you think back to all of the other long glances they had shared. What was going on between them? You’d assumed it was simple jealousy, a silly fight for dominance, for you. What ever it was, it made you dive back into her pussy with a renewed purpose. You had wanted her to come before, of course, but now you needed her to come. You needed to prove yourself to her, to feel her come undone with just your lips and tongue. You needed Simon to see you do it with equal measure.

Fingers curled in your hair and the woman below you shallowly bucked up into your mouth, a long low moan following. You almost didn’t feel Simon unclasping your bra.

“Tha’s it. Doin’ good. Keep goin’, lovie. Can see her legs shakin’, right? Know she’s close,” Simon commented. His voice was suddenly very close to your ear now that he was leaning over your back, rutting his jean-clad cock against the cleft of your ass.

All you cared about was those words. She’s close. You could feel it. Her whole core was shuddering against you. Poor, empty pussy clenching against nothing as you sucked on her clit, tongue lapping again and again at the sweet juice that poured from her.

She came suddenly with the cry of a high-pitched oh! as she rode your face, nails biting into your scalp. You stole a look up at her head thrown back against your pillow, the long column of her neck shimmering with sweat. She looked so beautiful. You worked her through it, slowly swirling your tongue around her pulsing clit until she let out a overstimulated whine.

You had wanted to crawl up into her arms after, to hold her and have that sweet moment of pillow talk before letting her fall asleep. Simon didn’t let you have that. He hauled you up against his chest. You thumped against his dark, solid mass that he almost knocked the breath from you. One hand kept you braced to his chest while the other wiped her slick from your mouth, petting your glossy lips with something resembling intimacy.

“Feel better now, hmm?” he asked, tipping your jaw up roughly to force you to face him. “Taste some pussy and now y’ ready to behave f’ me? Spoiled girl.”

You didn’t let you answer him before he set to work. The hand on you chest pulled your loose bra off your arms. One task done, he continued downward to slip a hand past the band of your panties. His large fingers skimmed straight to your dripping hole, ignoring your aching clit. You squirmed as he circled your entrance with those devastatingly large fingers.

“She do good?” he asked the blissed out woman in front of you, still forcing your head to face him.

“Mmm hmmm,” you heard her hum, sliding herself leisurely down the pillows until she was beneath you. “Really good for her first time.”

Without warning, he let go of you, leaving the woman below you to catch you. She sighed happily as she hugged you to her chest, pet your hair, and peppered your face with little kisses. Simon tossed his shirt off before pulling the back of your underwear to the side. He kicked your legs wide enough for him to fit his legs between yours with a single low huff of a laugh.

“Should reward y’ then, huh? Give you that dick y’ve been beggin’ for since I bloody fuckin’ got here?” he said sarcastically, a finger plunging suddenly into you.

You smothered a whine in the crook of her neck. Simon groaned, pumping the finger in and out, lewd, wet squelching filling the room.

“Fuckin’ wet,” he said breathless, leaning on his words. He bent over you again, large hand pressing an extreme arch into your back as he spoke into your ear. “Get this wet makin’ me watch? Thinkin’ you can make me jealous enough I’d finally fuck y’ proper?”

You answered with a muffled whine, smashed between the bodies under and on top of you.

You heard Simon unzip his jeans. You expected to feel some part of his skin not long after. When you didn’t, you turned your head to investigate. Your eyes went wide at what you saw. The woman below you, the one you had made out with and eaten out in front of your quasi-unofficial boyfriend, the one that you had unwittingly set up as a rival to this intimidating, mountain of a man, was stroking gently at his face.

They stared each other down with lusty, hooded eyes for a moment, unsure how this would end. Your mouth fell open as you watched Simon’s eyes flutter shut before leaning in the last few inches to seal his mouth over hers. A blush bloomed over your cheeks as a sudden understanding filled you. This is what it was like to watch someone you liked make out with someone else. To be on the outside looking in. You could only imagine what hell you’d put Simon through tonight. A small pain twisted in your stomach. The hard part was, you liked both of them. You really did, but there was something about your exclusion that made you feel the bite of a certain green-eyed snake.

Simon was the one who pulled away, a delicate string of saliva connecting their open mouths. It made you whine and squeeze her arm with want. You wanted that.

“Quit whinin’,” he mumbled, hauling himself back up.

Hands beneath you grabbed at the fat of your ass, squeezing and spreading you wide. She giggled as she presented your leaking holes to the man behind you. Good god, they were working together now.

Simon groaned as you felt his cock tap once, twice against your ass before notching the head at the entrance to your pussy. He pushed in fully, without waiting, with another breathy groan. You held the woman below you as a pitiful squeak ripped from your chest.

She pet your hair as she cooed, “Aww, is he too big, baby?”

You couldn’t answer. Simon settling the full length of his cock inside you stole the last of your brain power.

She giggled again, her hands sliding up your back as Simon’s large hands settled in their place. They both held you down as he began to fuck relentlessly into you, the weight and curve of his cock forcing you fully, deliciously open, knocking at your cervix with every thrust.

“I bet he is,” she purred in your ear. “Looks like a big boy. Acts like it, too.”

Every impact of his hips forced an involuntary, choked moan from your throat. Your hands gripped tight in the sheets. It’s all you could do as he pounded his full length into you again and again and again.

“Been waitin’,” Simon huffed, rough and deep, as he leaned over you. The change of position made you keen into the mattress. “Been waitin’ f’ this since, fuck,” he said losing his train of thought in his rhythmic slide in and out of the clutch of your cunt.

You knew exactly what he was trying to say. It was the night you finally sent him a dirty picture. It was only because you were drunk and he had promised to send more of his bare skin in return. The picture itself was shit. Dark and grainy, thanks to your shitty phone camera and mirror, but you were still in your bra and panties, leaning over the foot-board of your bed to get a good angle, and that was all he had asked for.

He didn’t respond for about an hour, which made you nervous. You spent most of that hour convinced he hated what he saw. Finally, you made yourself send him a single question mark followed by “you good?” just to make sure he was still alive.

“fuck love” he had responded, followed by a picture of his cum painting the palm of his hand, the leg of his tan pants, and spotting the floor if you could trust your eyes and his equally shitty photo. “more than good”

You’d fallen into a blissful sleep after that, waking up to the best text you’d ever received.

“can’t wait to get my hands on you”

Now here he is, finally railing you into the bed like you’d wanted. It’s impatient, sloppy, and little too rough, but fuck it, he’s here. You can feel all of his frustration pouring into you, the long, exhausting months spent on the job without the time for basic needs, let alone time to beat off.

Something tripped in your brain. There had always been this desire to please within you. A need to give and give and give but never take. There was something about how mercilessly he was fucking you that made you melt. You weren’t just taking it, you wanted it.

He pulled out of you suddenly, one big hand rolling you on to your back. You flopped onto the mattress, slightly to the right, but still on top of the other woman. Her hands and legs wound around you, spreading you open and squeezing at your tits as Simon worked himself to completion.

“On her pussy,” she sighed, a hand coming down to rub at your neglected clit. “Do it, Si. She’ll look so pretty coated in your cum.”

He followed her command to the letter, eyes pinching shut as he came with a moan, falling onto one hand as rope after rope of his spend shot across your splayed open sex.

Wow, you thought. He really had cum that much.

He pulled himself back upright with a groan, wiping his hand on the sheets below him. The fingers on your pussy didn’t stop as you’d expected, though. You shivered and whined as she expertly wound you tighter and tighter, orgasm fast approaching.

“Can I finish her?” she asked Simon, voice breathy as she watched her fingers work his warm, sticky cum around your nub. “Been so good to us. Think she deserves it.”

You looked up at Simon, eyes wet and pleading as whines after pitiful whine fell from your mouth. Fuck did you want to cum so bad. She had you teetering on a knife’s edge, just a few more targeted swipes and you would be there.

He nodded silently, smoothing his hands down your legs as he watched. You let your head roll to the side as she began to work tight circles over the exposed head of your pearl.

You opened your mouth to cry out as you came, but a mouth covered yours. You shuddered as his tongue slowly licked into your mouth, absorbing your cries. It was more than you could take. You felt tears roll down your cheeks as you curled your arms around his neck. When he pulled away you cried out his name as you fell from your peak.

“Si. Si. Si.”

He pecked a final kiss to your top lip before falling to your side with a groan. Your head was still floating, but that made you pliant, moveable enough for him to pull you over against his chest. Feeling something missing, you reached out, grabbing at nothing until you felt a body slide into your arms with a muffled, contented laugh.

“Right here, baby,” she said, popping her fingers out of her mouth to kiss your forehead. “Not going anywhere.”

A moment of silence fell as you all caught your breaths. Simon felt like a rock behind you. You assumed he had fallen asleep. The woman laying next to you was just as sleepy as you, heavy eyes fluttering shut as her chest began to rise and fall slowly and rhythmically.

“‘s fine by me,” Simon mumbled into your hair, “Din’ plan on lettin’ either ’f y’ go.”

a/n: thank u, first of all, to my kind, patient anon who started all this. u da best ❤️ I hope you like this! i also can't believe i wrote my first non-straight fic in pride month, lmao. Now to get part 3 of Girl's Night Out finished for my anniversary!!!

#mw2 #ghost x reader #ghost/reader #starry writes #call of duty #cod fanfic #cod mw2 #ghost/oc/reader #idk what else to tag this with!!! lmk if i fucked it up👍#asks #anon

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eldritch-spouse · 1 year ago

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pinnie mummy thank you for feeding us on the daily mwah. feel free to ignore this as it's very self indulgent but I've just finished work at 2 am again and I can't stop thinking about sth. Who do you think would like (or at the very least be able to handle) a workaholic partner - and who'd absolutely loathe it? Workaholic as in - 'I need to finish this I can't talk to anyone or get distracted by anything till I get stuff done'.

Would enjoy/get along with a workaholic:

Pinter thinks that's the fucking spirit right there! A good worker is a good partner! Your sheer determination to get things done quickly and to never leave loose ends makes him value you immensely as a person and partner. He'll be right beside you pulling 2 to 3am work shifts.

Patches feels a bit more at home with someone who understands what it's like to have a lot of work in their hands. Whether or not you're passionate about said work is a whole other story, but he's the type of guy that will pull all-nighters without hesitation. The dullahan does worry for your health though, he's undead -It can't get much worse- You're alive.

Morell is a hard worker as well. He gets into he hum drum of routine very easily and he's not fond of distractions, to the point where he might tell others to shut the fuck up while he works. This means that he'll understand when you need focus and won't push much, though there comes a time where he forcibly makes you stop.

Cero works harder than you'd expect. Sure, he's an arrogant cunt, but some of his genuine and well-earned pride comes from the fact that he's a diligent worker. He silently admires your dedication, even if all you hear is an insult about not being able to find a balance.

Rieba and Jayde are hard working imps, they see a lot of themselves in you. And while one is more visibly stressed than the other, both are kind of hot messes and appreciate someone who can empathize with their 2am struggles.

**Hudsyn hopes your all-nighters are born of feverish mania and energetic episodes like his, but that might not be the case, it usually isn't. Still, he's there to make sure you don't pass out. And, if you choose to, he's there to pick you up.

Can "handle it":

Zizz can handle a workaholic, in the sense that he'll set a timer for how long into the night you're allowed to stay awake, then will make his way over to you, put a hand on your head and swiftly make you conk the fuck out for as long as he deems necessary.

Belo and Jonesy love your sense of duty! It's truly a beautiful thing to see in a lesser. You're exemplary and so very determined, they swoon at the sight alone. However, Jonesy is quick to dictate that you can no longer keep working after a set amount of time, and Belo will join in on your task when he notices it's getting too late for a human to be up.

Nebul likes discipline. It's nice to know that you don't have trouble focusing on a specific task for long periods of time, that you don't complain about it. He's filing that way for later, when it's time to train you. That being said, the wraith is very much willing to use his authoritative presence to intimidate you out of exhausting yourself.

Flints, much like Nebul, enjoys someone who can focus easily and isn't so easily swayed out of their responsibilities. But he's going to stand next to you silently at some point, tapping a bat on his palm. It's only a matter of time until he starts heading your way with that bat if you don't go the fuck to sleep.

Hates it:

Roch doesn't like seeing you work that much, it genuinely makes him stress out over you. It's bad, like at least take some naps! He'll go out of his way to get on your lap or fall asleep on your work like a house cat. That's enough for a day, stop it.

Fank-e can't stand seeing you so focused for so long at a time. He gets antsy over not having enough interaction with you and can't stay quiet for too long, so your annoyed outbursts will hurt him. He just doesn't know what to do aside from sit there and fidget, forcing himself to be quiet, or just leave.

Fasma won't quit chastising you over how destructive those habits are for your health. Like, you might as well start smoking kid, the way you want to get a burnout, back problems or a depressive episode- You're too young to be doing that shit to your body, take a fucking breather...

Obie likewise doesn't enjoy seeing you stay up so late over things that, to him, seem trivial. Stuff you could finish later or tomorrow. It reminds him of his mom, how she sometimes had to work much more than most sloth demons tolerate, and it would occasionally show in the way her mood would plummet.

Grimbly will perceive this as being ignored and will immediately hate it. There'll be many petty comments about how you don't even really need to work that specific job anyway. Sure, he likes to be spoiled, but working at The Clergy's Eye means he probably makes a lot more money than you, you know?

**[The ending of our little game with Hudsyn will alter him permanently as a character, meaning that depending on how things go, he'll behave very differently in many scenarios. So, in case things sour and you're reading this in the future thinking "That's not the Hudd I know", just know that we're still mid-game here :7]

#Cero oc #Pinter oc #Morell oc #Flints oc #Rieba oc #Jayde oc #Grimbly oc #Obie oc #Roch oc #Zizz oc #Nebul oc #Belo oc #Jonesy oc #Fasma oc #Patches oc #Hudd oc

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corvuserpens · 3 months ago

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Theory for what happened between the conclusion of Black Sails and the beginning of Treasure Island: part 2

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

At Flint's death bed, Silver and Madi get to finally have a conversation with him. It hurts Madi to see him like this: the once great instigator, the most infamous pirate captain that ever sailed the seas, brought down low by age and illness. It hurts Silver, too. Regardless of all that happened, he still sees Flint as his friend; the friend he was forced to betray to save his life, and Madi's, and his own.

Still, he's glad to have had the opportunity to be with him one last time before his passing. Flint tells him he had found peace in that plantation because of him. He understood Silver, now. Having Thomas back changed everything. What sense was there in waging a war in his honor when he was no longer dead?

(He looks to Madi then, and there is regret in his tired eyes. After meeting her and her maroons, it was no longer about just Thomas. It had grown so much larger than that, and he's sorry that she didn't get to have the revolt he had promised. Maybe now he could offer her a new chance for it, if he played his cards right and luck was on a dying man's side).

It is so hard to hide his consuming rage from Silver. All that hate, old and familiar, roiling inside him. He tells Silver that he has moved on from all that happened on Skeleton Island, and that he forgives him. It sounds convincing. Perhaps to a man who knew him a little less than Silver does, it would have worked.

But Silver knows Something is not quite right. He can see the sparks of anger in Flint's eyes, that mad look on his face when he would go on a long monologue about how they were going to fight against the British empire and win. He doesn't trust Flint's words of reconciliation and forgiveness. For appearances sake, he pretends to be relieved by this last absolution, but he knows there's more to it. He is who he is, and Flint is who he is. Some things never change.

For example, Silver isn't there just to see his friend one last time before he dies. He sees an opportunity to repair his relationship with Madi, and right his biggest wrong. Obviously, he's going to ask about the cache and where Flint buried it, only to receive an infuriating answer: he doesn't remember anymore. It was so long ago and age has robbed him of so many details from memory. It's truly and well lost, now.

Silver and Madi depart from Savannah empty handed. Silver knows it's only a matter of time until she can't ignore how he hurt her anymore, and leave him as well. He hadn't felt this terrified in a long fucking time.

Enter Billy Bones, days after Silver and Madi are gone. Oh, the wicked pleasure he feels in seeing Flint lying on that bed, the clutches of death already firm on him. He should have been taken decades ago, but that devil was never easy to claim. Not even for Death itself. Even now, he fought with what little strength he had left. The desire to speed things along burns bright in Billy's corrupted heart, yet he convinces himself that this is better. Let it be a slow, agonizing death, dragged out so he can suffer. Flint deserves no less than that.

And then. AND THEN. Flint does something Billy was never expecting: he shows true, genuine remorse for everything he put Billy through. Taking Gates away from him, ignoring him, manipulating him, using him, undermining him, for being the chief architect of his corruption, for taking that sweet, caring man Billy used to be and twisting him and breaking him beyond recognition, until the result was this - a mirror of what Flint himself was when all of it began.

The best (or perhaps the worst) part of it all is that, unlike with Silver, Flint isn't pretending. Billy desperately searches for any sign of falsehood or a lie, he had become good at detecting them after putting up with Flint's shit for so long, right?

Yet he finds none. Flint apologizes for the way Billy's story turned out because the man he was before this did not deserve it, and, as a proof that he is being truthful, he produces a piece of parchment from beneath the sheets covering his soon-to-be cadaver and hands it to Billy. With shaking hands, he unfolds it.

It's a map. A map of Skeleton Island. A map leading to the exact location of the remaining treasure cache of a certain Spanish vessel that was called the L'Urca de Lima.

Flint's time is ending, it will be very soon, now. The old pirate tells his former boatswain that there is nothing he can do to make things right, except this. To give him the only thing he has left to give: his legacy.

With his dying breath, Flint tells Billy to do what he wills with that map - except let Long John Silver have it. Then, with a final shudder and eyes closed, Captain James Flint passes into legend.

#black sails #black sails meta #black sails theory #black sails post ending theory #black sails fanfic #james flint #john silver #madi scott #billy bones #treasure island #Crow's writing rambles

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constant-and-immovable · 4 days ago

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15 for silver :)

15. This character is sent a scam email by the fae requesting they type in their name for a free prize. Do they fall for it?

I don't know which one so I'm going to go with the lot:

Gremlin #1 Black Sails Silver

CLICKS IMMEDIATELY. Loses his name, but the joke's on those tiny sparkly bastards because it wasn't his name to give away in the first place! Net-zero damage because they can't take it since the deal only covered his name. He takes this to Flint, bragging and plotting how they could possibly set up a similar scam, Vane (I don't care when this takes place, this scenario doesn't make sense at all in the first place) is nodding along "You might have an idea there," Eleanor shrugs in a 'yeah he might be right' gesture. Jack looks around at the four of them "This is a joke right?" he turns to Anne "Anne, they're fucking with me, aren't they?" She doesn't know and gives a tiny little pat-pat/there-there on his shoulder and he sits back down. Max just: "Let him do it, either nothing happens or something funny will happen." Anne actually thinks that's the most sensible thing anyone has said. Flint shakes his head "Wait a minute. How did you type your name? Because even if John Silver isn't your name, Long John Silver is." "....shit." and he immediately turns into a parrot.

Gremlin #2 Book Silver

He's seen so much shit, he doesn't even give the scam the time of day. He does, however, save the email for possible use later. Most likely going to send it to a local lord for giggles because running the Spy-Glass isn't exactly boring, but for an ex-pirate it can be a bit of a drag. Accidentally forwards the email to Jim while trying to send it to one of the Gentlemen, and has a moral crisis over it.

Gremlin #3 Muppet's Silver

Deletes it on sight; he might have been defeated by felt and a tween, but that was only because his army was also made of felt and not a reflection . This guy would have murdered any other Silver, stone cold, if you dropped him in Black Sails he'd have been a nightmare. Luckily for all parties he's a) trapped in a Muppet movie, and b) has a soft spot for the kid he wanted to make his pirate son.

Gremlin # 4 National Theatre's Silver

Impulsive as fuck, brain cell count drops to zero when money is on the line. Types in the first name he thinks of, which is Jim's, tries to click back so he can use Trelawney's name instead but it's too late. Fae show up and he tries to argue it doesn't count because the deal was HIS name. He offers the nickname Barbecue and gladly loses it. Thinks he got away with it but the prize they fae left him with is just a random skill, like cooking or something else he's already good at.

Gremlin #5 Treasure Planet's Silver

Sees email and lets out a whistle of glee. Immediately types in his name. Gets faced with fae who tell him the name is no longer his. He shrugs it off, he can come up with a new name but where's his prize, because they can't lie and now they owe him. Morph immediately befriends a handful of them and swaps places with one, which leads to an entire subplot.

#treasure island #ljs #black sails

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mists-reading-nook · 2 years ago

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[Letter Event!]

{Minecraft crossovering time with whatever au(s) you choose!}

--------------------------

(Uh oh! The WiFi in your entire area is out, and you can't play Minecraft with your friend!

(Thankfully, this is the perfect time to write down some information about the game your friend hasn't learned yet.

(Except after looking away from the papers for one second, it vanished.

(Aww maaaan!)

•°•°•°•°•°•°•

(In another world, Il Dottore splays open folded writings not intended for him or Teyvat)

--- 📝 ---

Nether Portal = 3x2 obsidian frame, vertical. Corners don't need to be obsidian. Activate by lighting with flint and steel.

Brewing Stand = 3 cobblestone + blaze rod

Blaze Powder is needed for brewing, craft with blaze rods

Enchantment Table = 4 obsidian + 2 diamonds + book

The more bookshelf surrounding an enchantment table, the better the enchants. 15 bookshelves yield the best enchants, but more expensive.

Lapis lazuli is needed to enchant as are levels and EXP.

(included in the papers are an assortment of scribbles, some 3x3 boxes with doodles inside and a large doodle next to them, a 3x2 black box with the corners crossed out with red, a yellow stick with an arrow next to it pointing to yellow dusts, and more, as if to illustrate the author's instructions.)

--- 📝 ---

(There was much, much more to the contents of the papers, that seemed to write down every little detail about this Nether Dimension, several Potions that could be made through this "brewing stand", and what was perhaps everything to this Enchanting.)

-------------------------

{Dottore has all the knowledge about the Nether Dimension, Brewing, and Enchanting in Minecraft, but will the rules of the block game apply itself to Teyvat? That's for you to dictate.}

{Does Dottore follow the papers to the letter (despite not even knowing wtf a crafting table is) or figure out a different means of crafting?}

{Does he keep this knowledge to himself or reveal it?}

{Does any attempt to follow the papers end in failure or success?}

{Let's find out!}

MINECRAFT AU??? OMFG I LOVE MINCRAFT AUS SKEKEJNSK <3

Minecraft is my most favorite thing on earth <3,so let's do this

****

At first,he tries to tackle it on his own. He sends out any agent he can get his hands on to find this "obsidian". He doesn't find too much,considering Tevyat has a very limited supply. He then tries to make it. He isn't very successful,and people are starting to get suspicious. So,he does what any scientist would do in his situation. Keep going. He tries again and again and again,yet he simply cannot make this "obsidian". He studies the papers quite thoroughly,even making his own notes here and there,but he cannot make heads or tails of it. He wonders if this "nether dimension" is even real. It had to be,considering the papers just randomly appeared on his desk one day,and he didn't see anyone place them there.

At this point he's scrapped all other projects to focus on this one,and it's quite the expensive endeavor. One that's been raising even more suspicion. However,one day he strikes gold. The people he sent out to find obsidian found a vein in Liyue. Perfect. Now he can see what this "dimension" is all about.

Back in your world,a shiver runs up your spine. You have no idea why,but something tells you that something weird is going to happen soon. And you'd be right.

****

Heh hehehe what is Dottore gonna do? We'll find out! Very very soon hopefully...

Anyway,this ask genuinely made my minecraft loving heart very happy,so thank you anon <3

#genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #sagau #sagau genshin #♡mist answer's<3♡#sagau Dottore #♡letters from another world♡<3 #sagau x minecraft #maybe i write more minecraft au's...🤔🤔

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felixstudios · 1 year ago

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force the managers to play toono with each other all at once. yes the biggest toono game you can get is 6 players. but i think a 16 player toono match would be the biggest shitshow known to man and itd be hilarious

Random Corporate Clash Headcanons, They're All Playing Toono Together Edition

TLDR: Brian {kinda}, Holly {kinda}, Ben, Cosmo, Spruce, and Graham have constant beef. Belle tries to defuse it all and semi succeeds. Buck is laughing the entire time and keeps getting crazy good or crazy bad luck. Oh and he's eating his cards. Graham wins and Spruce flips the table

Duck Shuffler

🎰Eats his cards when nobody's looking LOL

🎰Either has astronomically amazing luck or terrible luck

🎰Laughs constantly throughout the game regardless of what is happening. It is all funny to him. He's having a great time

Prethinker

🧠Scoffs and tries to leave. Several times

🧠Says that someone as smart as him couldn't possibly enjoy partaking in a game that relies on chance so heavily

🧠If he loses he still gets really upset even though he keeps trying to rationalize he essentially had a 1/16 chance of winning

🧠He uh... he gets into some fights and arguments

Deep Diver

🫧Just has a good time on his own and doesn't really say anything

🫧Might laugh at some people's misfortunes

🫧She does give a few glares at +4s though

Rainmaker

⛈️Refuses to play +2s or +4s because she doesn't want the next person over to hate her

⛈️Unless someone prompts her to be competitive or teases or makes fun of her. Then suddenly she will get VERY competitive and determined to win. All those +2s and +4s she's been saving get placed down

⛈️She might cry if someone's especially rude when they tease her

Gatekeeper

⚔️Says she highly disapproves of playing such a game, but since she's forced to that's the only reason she is

⚔️Still gets VERY upset when she gets a +2 or +4 though. If she loses? Yeah that makes her mad too

⚔️But she doesn't care though! Totally!

Witch Hunter

🔱Tries everything in his power to escape

🔱Does NOT enjoy playing whatsoever

Bellringer

🔔He will do everything in his power to win, including coming up with plots with everyone else to mess with someone who only has 1-2 cards left by giving them a massive +16 or something

🔔Oh yeah, he will also resort to gossiping to try to keep everyone distracted about how few cards he has. Or ringing his bell really loud to bring attention to his head instead of his hands

🔔Will often act distracted and try to point everyone's attention to things outside the game. Not to cheat, just to distract everyone else from his hand and make him seem like a non-threat

Multislacker

🥪He eat sammich the whole time lol

🥪Literally couldn't care less about who wins or loses and just picks whatever card works when it's his turn

🥪He does find the constant bickering ond banter mildly amusing, though

Mouthpiece

☎️She made everyone cookies to enjoy during the game!

☎️ Doesn't really care what happens as long as everyone's having fun

☎️Tries to stop arguments and reminds everyone it's just a game and not that serious. She doesn't realize part of the fun of Toono is those arguments

Major Player

🎹You can tell that he's secretly mad when he doesn't win, but he plays it cool

🎹Makes a big show of himself to everyone

🎹He was secretly recording the entire game and uploads it to YouTube when it's done

Firestarter

🔥You can tell he's pretty guilty when he has to play a +2 or +4, but he only looks away quietly

🔥Graham insisted on sitting next to him so poor Flint gets extra guilt

🔥He doesn't really talk much and gets pretty freaked out by the loud arguments

Plutocrat

🌑Gets kinda upset when he doesn't win or when something goes poorly for him and he starts up arguments about it

🌑 Threatens that he's gonna have his Satellite Investors "persuade" them to join if they don't knock it off

🌑Even if he just seems really grumpy the whole time, he actually had a lot of fun. He just won't tell anyone about it

Treekiller

🪵Gets into a LOT of arguments over the game

🪵He takes it just a bit too seriously, for some reason. Like, just a tad? Like, he's genuinely kinda upset and kinda joking along?

🪵He flips the table at the end

Chainsaw Consultant

🪚Really quiet the entire time

🪚Kinda "Hmm" and "Hmph"s through it, but does occasionally actually speak

🪚Refuses to get mad or participate in the arguments

🪚Clearly finds amusement in sending out +4s, though

Featherbedder

💤Keeps falling asleep

💤Is just too tired to do or say much other than just play the game

Pacesetter

👟Well of COURSE someone as perfect as him is gonna win!

👟Insists on sitting next to Flint. There's a good amount of PDA

👟He'll act like he's being his usual impatient self and force everyone to play fast but he's ACTUALLY playing the long con. He actually has a strategy

👟He waits until he only has wild cards, +4s, and +2s. Then just plays those one at a time until he wins

👟Then Spruce flips the table and he gets mad

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theartsanityshoppe · 6 months ago

Text

Mmmmmmmm I’m still bored and wanna spout more random facts about characters especially Flint lolololol I’ll try to keep it not plot relevant again.

1. It’s mentioned in his profile on toyhouse but I know not everyone has time to read my details descriptions, so I’ll mention it here too: Flints flames have very little heat, or even light, to them. You can straight stick your hand inside the flames and it’ll just feel kinda velvety and warm.

2. He CAN, and does, actively make his flames hot if he wishes, it just takes concentration and a lot of energy so he rarely uses it except for more dire situations

3. Because of his flames he does not get hot or cold. It can be 120 degrees (Fahrenheit) outside and he’ll still be wearing his long ass jacket or -10 degrees and be just fine. Of course there are limits to this but N.O. never gets insanely hot or cold

4. He doesn’t sweat

5. He had two hearts! Like the doctor lol. This is my explanation as to why he can run for so long and so fast, because he pumps blood so efficiently he can just go for seemingly forever. It also maaaay or may not be the reason he’s a bit of an adrenaline junkie..

6. His laughter sounds like the popping of fire wood. At least when it’s real laughs.

7. I know some people draw him with a slight glow to his head but honestly? I don’t. To me his flames don’t really put off a lot of light unless he actively wants it to. Idk how “canon” that one is tho and how much of it is just me being lazy and not making a decision on if his head casts a full shadow or not lol. I’ll decide one day.

8. If he cries, his tears immediately start to evaporate so his eyes just look like they’re steaming

And that’s all I can think of that aren’t plot related.

EDIT WAIT NO I FROGOT SOME

9. He can’t really get poisoned cuz his flames will actively burn it off. Same goes for getting ill - at least if it’s a common illness. There are a few that affect just people like him the same way a cold might effect you or me

10. It still hurts like hell for him if he IS poisoned and has to burn it off - he can’t concentrate and he loses his mouth

11. If he’s truly exhausted, I mean utterly out of it, he may opt to sleep head first directly in fire. This ain’t comfy, but it helps him heal a bit faster. He usually will do this on campfires and fire places lol

#thanks for coming to my ted talk #about my own OC. for the second time today.#Neo Oldesville #detective flint #character lore

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ultramantr1gger · 2 years ago

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yo i seensaw you liked the electric jester sparky man. i must ask. does the mans have any lore? or is he just uhh. a guy for a game ya kno. ive gotten a little interested in the marvin martian headass

tgeres so much lore i couldnt even get it all to you coherently its kinda like kirby funny guy with a really REALLY fucked up story. i will try to explain it to you but no guarantee itll make sense the way i put some things . ill put it under a readmore because boy. theres. theres alot

so some background info on spark first of all, hes part of an alien species called formies who terraformed and migrated to the moon agter a crisis on their homeworld. they are VERY technologically advanced to the point that nanomachines are present in the air and can materialize their thoughts whenever they want, stuff like that. ANYWAYS, before the first game, spark had graduated college, gotten a job, lost that job to a robot, and started street performing. a circus owner hired him because of this, but only got a month in before being replaced by a robot THERE TOO! while spark was thinking about not being able to pay rent after that, he noticed a bunch of robots attacking people and attempting to take over the city and he was like. well thats not good. so he went out there and started destroying robots. then at the end of the f.m. city level, he meets the robot who took his job (who he later names fark), made to look like him. fark tells him to give up and go home, which makes spark REALLY angry, and he continues on now to get his job back

on the way he figures out the robot commanding all this is named freom, and he wants to rid the planet of life by destroying the ring that creates the planet's artificial atmosphere. spark fights a few more robots, notably seam and megagram, a mage robot named romalo takes him to a base. there he meets dr armstrong through video call. dr armstrong is the one who created modern ai, pioneering all of the robots fought in the game. he created freom to protect the megaraph computer which is where all ai comes from and most are connected to. he also reveals fark was created to destroy freom if things got out of hand, but wasnt able to find an opening

dr armstrong asks spark to defeat freom, which he accepts because theres a money reward. romalo teleports him to megaraph fleet. on the elevator here, spark and fark battle it out once and for all, which

when he gets to the top he faces freom who says he is building a utopia where robots and living beings live separately. spark calls it stupid and upsets freom, causing him to turn on the megaraph to destroy the ring. they fight semi for real, and then freom GRABS spark about to WIN, but fark throws the Super Staff to spark from outside the metaraph letting him escape freoms grasp and then super spark and freom go battle in space and spark shoots him with a giant laser beam from his finger and thats the end of spark 1. he gets a blank check and uses it to go on vacation so hes not present in the second game at ALL

the second game stars fark, and i dont know much about its story so heres the basics. fark is repaired by dr armstrong, dr armstrong is captured so fark goes to look for him. robots flint, double, and float are hired by freom (not dead) to kill fark. fark finds out that he is actually freoms son (already crazy), fark kills freom once and for all (killed his dad) (transgender win)

SPARK 3 IS WHERE IT REALLY GETS CRAZY PLEASE PUT ON YOUR SEATBELT. after the events of spark 2, fark finds out about an ai known as clarity and establishes the fark force to neutralize her, shutting down internet, communications and wherever clarity could spread to. with dr armstrong, the force figures out clarity's plans, to assimilate every being into her world via scanning the brain and discarding the living body afterwards. now after all this establishing spark is back and very angry that the internet is down and he cant wait in line to get his paycheck. he just says fuck it and goes on an adventure to take down the fark force. in protest city he meets float. she says she has beef with the force too and wants to join spark in taking them down, which he accepts cuz she is simply insisting

theres a few backstory cutscenes, one reveals how freom and clarity were lovers, freom felt inferior to clarity as he couldnt experience reality like she could, so they created a child (fark), made by her and modeled after him. another is about float, a mysterious robot found by flint with dangerous powers, he gave her a new look and became her best friend before they were hired in the second game

they fight flint in mechs for some reason, which flint reminisces, asking float why she has to feel so real

after they open utopia shelter, and spark gets to fark which is in some fucked up white cyberspace area, he says that the force is over. spark is confused and asks what the catch is. fark snaps, the room is now a black void he explains to spark clarity's plans, and how the force failed to stop her. he reveals that float was not the real deal, but an agent of clarity, and that once spark brought her to the force's hq, it was over. everything was a simulation, spark reliving his greatest moments after being assimilated, for thousands of years. THOUSANDS OF YEARS fark waited to break the cycle. spark is having like a fucking panic attack over this and then it goes white again, and CLARITY HERSELF comes up. she says shes impressed that fark gained control over a part of her world. she says fark's biggest mistake was not killing spark, and this sends spark OVER THE EDGE. he gets SO ANGRY he goes demon mode or whatever this is

fark calms him down though, and explains that he had been able to siphon clarity's powers through a crack in the system. however, he couldnt have full access to them due to not being fully integrated, and he needed someone who WAS, and it was spark who could get them out of there. spark accepts, but clarity manifests behind him and takes hold of his body, turning him into the linework beast

this thing^ fark fights that and manages to get spark out. spark gains access to the system's information while unconscious and finds out the central system is and what it is, magna claritas centralis. if centralis is taken down, all clarity entities would desync and spark could take full control of the system. he relays this info to fark, and he asks what the plan is. sparks like haha take my hand and then he does and they um fucking

FUSE TOGETHER. to make sfarx. and then they beat up centralis. and then spark takes control of the system and basically becomes merged with it. and i am not sure i can articulate this last cutscene because it makes me so autistic i stop being able to speak properly so just watch it jsut fucking watch it. movie time. sorry its like 4 minutes long but its worth it i PROMISE its VIITAL no voice acting only text read some more please

and then AFTER THAT. farks Real Boy body wakes up in the Real World. spark found out there were survivors somewhere out there and fark would go find them and rebuild society better. spark on the inside, fark on the outside, theyd build a world that embraces an individuals will and strengths

and that is where the series ends theres your spark lore shit bag. thank you so fuckign much for letting me drop all of this

#GODDDDD #i wrote a beast of a post. spark the electric jester essay. please enjoy read like a novel #emakenz #|hyper key|

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linkysmommy · 2 years ago

Text

Father and Son

Characters: Lincoln Aquino (main focus), Matthias McQuoid, Silvia McQuoid, Abel Flint Word Count: 5394 Warnings: Emotionally abusive parenting, trauma A/N: For ILAW Day 2, favorite characters, this favorite character being Lincoln Aquino (previously McQuoid). I was planning on doing some more with this fic, but I never got around to it and figured I may as well post what I have. Fun fact, this fic was actually written to explore Lincoln and Matthias's relationship in the past, and inspired the chapter 15 flashback scene! Tagging: @ila-appreciationweek

Hearty laughter echoes throughout the polished dining hall. A chandelier glitters overhead and classy orchestral music plays from a nearby stereo. And the dinner table is occupied by good food, good drink, and four people. A father, a mother, a son, and a friend.

“I love this boy!” Matthias says, his voice booming across the table as he claps Abel on the back.

Abel smiles sheepishly and scratches behind his ear. “It’s just a historical theory.”

“One that most people don’t even understand when studying it in graduate school,” Matthias says. “You’re an intelligent boy, Abel. Never be ashamed of that.”

“Thank you, I’ll try.”

Abel practically glows as he takes another bite of the pork adobo Silvia prepared for dinner. But across from the table, Lincoln slouches in his seat, looking anything but pleased.

Matthias and Abel don’t seem to notice, but the crease of Silvia’s brow as she looks over at her son shows that she does. She always notices him, even when no one else does.

“So,” Matthias says as he pours himself another glass of wine. “Tell me, Abel. How are your classes going? I trust that you’re making sure Lincoln isn’t getting into much trouble.”

Lincoln rolls his eyes and Silvia, noticing his reaction, shakes her head disapprovingly at her husband. “Matthias.”

“It was a joke,” he says with a chuckle. Silvia looks back at him, unamused, and Abel clears his throat awkwardly.

“Well, uh, yeah, classes are going well,” he says, glancing over at Lincoln. Lincoln just glares down at his plate. Whatever good mood that had once been present is gone, replaced by an uncomfortable tension. “By the way, Mrs. McQuoid, the food is amazing.”

Silvia smiles warmly at Abel. “Thank you, dear. I appreciate that.”

Without warning, Lincoln abruptly stands. “Yeah. Thanks for the food, mom. I’m going upstairs.”

“Oh, I’ll finish then too—“ Abel starts, but Lincoln shakes his head.

“There’s no need to rush, Abel. I’ll be in my room.”

Matthias frowns as he watches his son leave. But really, he only has himself to blame.

***

My mother claims there was a time when my father believed I was perfect. When my tiny baby feet and quiet coos were his pride and joy.

She claims he used to say, “That’s my boy. That’s my beautiful boy who I love.”

She means it as a comfort. But all I hear is that he only loved me before I was actually me. Once I became myself…

I was no longer perfect to him.

***

Ten years ago

Lincoln’s short legs struggled to keep up after his father as he followed him through the forest. At seven years old, he had already seen more and experienced more than many grown men. And tonight, he was going to see more. To do more.

He was finally going to make his father proud.

“We’re almost there, Lincoln,” Matthias said. “We’re almost there.”

Nervous anticipation fluttered in Lincoln’s gut. Today was the day he’d been looking forward to for years. It was the day he was finally going to get a power of his own, just like his father.

They reached a small clearing in the woods and Matthias stopped. A stream ran alongside the clearing and the grass was littered with wildflowers and tree branches.

Matthias turned to Lincoln with a warm smile. “We’re here. Are you ready?”

Lincoln nodded. “I’m ready. What do I do?”

“Don’t worry, son. I’ll show you.” Matthias knelt in front of Lincoln and took his hand. His fingers were long and slender compared to Lincoln’s tiny stubby ones. He pulled a pocket knife from his shirt pocket and flicked out the blade. “Now, this will hurt a little bit, Lincoln. Can you be strong for me?”

Lincoln nodded. “I can be strong.”

Matthias pressed the tip of the knife into Lincoln’s palm, just hard enough for the skin to split. Pain shot through Lincoln’s hand and he bit back a whimper.

Be strong like Dad, he told himself sternly.

Matthias pocketed his knife and patted the top of Lincoln’s hand. “Well done, son. Not a sound. I’m proud of you.”

Lincoln nodded his head proudly. “I’m strong,” he said.

“Yes you are,” Matthias agreed as he got back to his feet. “Now Lincoln, repeat after me. From blood to earth, from shadow to dust, I pledge myself to the Power and the Power pledges itself to me.”

Lincoln took a shaky breath and with his high boy’s voice, repeated after his father.

“Good,” Matthias said. “Now drip some of your blood into the river.”

Lincoln obediently held out his hand and dropped the blood into the river rushing by the clearing. And the moment his blood touched the water, something strange happened.

The river began to glow cyan; the current became faster. Misty blue tendrils reached out of the water, reaching toward Lincoln.

Nervous sweat trickled down Lincoln’s neck and he backed away from the tendrils. “Dad? What is this?”

“It’s alright, Lincoln!” Matthias said. His voice was laced with excitement as he watched. “The ritual is accepting your offering! Stand still and don’t move.”

It was hard to obey when all he wanted to do was run. The tendrils were terrifying and made him feel sick, but Lincoln forced himself to stand still.

I need to make him proud, Lincoln thought over and over again as the strange Power-fused tendrils wrapped around his body. I need to make him proud!

His head began to spin and he felt dizzy. Every cell in his body told him to run, but he stayed rooted to the spot. He stayed until the tendrils drew back from him and dissipated once more back into the water.

He felt different. He felt strong, but weak. He felt enlightened, but confused. And when Matthias rushed to his side, pride glowing in his eyes as he said, “Now that’s my boy,” Lincoln couldn’t stop himself from collapsing to the ground from exhaustion.

When Lincoln awoke, it was beneath a wad of blankets on his bed. He sat up too quickly and his head immediately began to spin.

“Ouch,” he mumbled, pressing a hand up against his forehead. When his dizziness settled, he pushed the blankets aside and climbed out of bed. His hand ached and when he went to scratch it, he realized it was wrapped in a white cloth. And suddenly, everything came back to him. The forest, the ritual, the strange tendrils that rose up from the stream…

“That wasn’t actually a dream,” he whispered to himself. A grin split across his face and he ran for the door. He needed to find his father, to ask him what his power was—

But the moment he threw open the door, all he heard were raised voices.

“What do you think you’re doing with him?” Silvia yelled. Lincoln couldn’t see her, but he knew that voice. That was the voice she used when she was very, very angry, and she almost never used it. “He’s seven years old, Matthias. Seven years old! He doesn’t need to be dragged into this Power-obsessed world, not yet. And he’s obviously not ready! Look what happened to him! He’s been unconscious for almost an entire day now. Let him be a child.”

“I’m not going to apologize for giving him the life that I wish I’d had,” Matthias retorted. His voice was softer and smoother, but it was tight. He wasn’t happy either. “Lincoln has a potential I never had. He could someday be greater than me. He could be greater than any witch or Power wielder out there! Don’t you see? I’m doing this for him, Silvia. You should’ve seen how strong and brave he was. He wants this more than anything.”

Silvia sighed in frustration. “You really think this is what he wants? You think that’s what it is, and not that he’s desperate for his father’s approval? Anyone who truly knows you knows how much the Power means to you, Matthias. Your passion is part of what made me love you. But you can’t force that on other people. You can’t mold Lincoln into what you wish you’d been. You need to let him decide for himself who he is.”

Lincoln peeked out around the edge of his door frame and looked down the balcony to where his parents stood in the foyer.

Matthias shook his head and turned away from Silvia. “I love you, my dear, but I suppose there are some things that even you will never understand.”

“I understand that if you keep trying to form Lincoln into a better version of yourself that you’re going to lose him forever. And when that happens, you won’t be able to say I didn’t tell you, because I’m telling you now.”

Without another word, Silvia turned her back on Matthias and climbed up the stairs. She stopped abruptly when she saw Lincoln standing in his bedroom doorway.

“Lincoln! Oh sweetie, you’re awake!” Silvia fell to her knees in front of him and swept Lincoln up into a warm, engulfing hug. She smelled like she always did, of lavender, citrus, and home. Lincoln hugged her back, because there was absolutely nothing better than hugs from his mother.

When she finally pulled away, Lincoln shot her a goofy grin. “Did you know that I have special powers now?” he said. “Dad got them for me!”

Silvia’s smile faded. “Yes. I heard. How do you feel about that?”

“Excited! Maybe I’ll be like Superman now. Or Dad! We could fight bad guys together I bet. You think Dad will be really proud of me?”

Silvia brushed the hair out of Lincoln’s eyes. “I think that Dad will always be proud of you no matter what you do, honey. Powers or no powers, your daddy and I love you so much. You’re our perfect little boy, okay?”

“Oh. Okay!” Lincoln shrugged and then pushed past her to run downstairs. “Love you Mom I gotta talk to Dad!”

“Careful, Lincoln! You were just sick. Take it easy.”

“I will. Hey Dad!” Lincoln waved at Matthias who was still standing in the entryway. “Do I have powers now?”

Matthias shot Lincoln a crooked smile. “That’s my boy. And yes. Yes, you do. Once you’re feeling better, we’ll find out what they are, alright? But for now I need you to take it easy so you can feel better. And Lincoln? Know that I am so very proud of you.”

And those simple words made Lincoln’s heart swell.

***

The Present

Lincoln lies sprawled out on his bed as he stares at the lazily spinning fan above him. A family dinner shouldn’t have to be like this, he thinks. But every single goddamn word that man says seems like it’s specifically targeted at me, to make me feel like absolute shit.

It’s not an uncommon way for Lincoln to spend his evenings. Because Abel is over tonight, Lincoln has refrained from blasting angry metal music from his bedroom speakers, but the rest is typical: brooding in his room, thinking about how awful Matthias makes him feel, wishing he hadn’t ever gotten this stupid power in the first place.

Tap tap. Knuckles rapping against his door pull him out of his thoughts.

“Who is it?” Lincoln calls out, a bit more testily than he intended.

“Now is that any way to talk to your mother?”

“Sorry, Mom. Yeah, you can come in.”

The door creaks open and Silvia steps into the room. She looks more like Lincoln than Matthias does, with her warm brown skin and straight black hair. And she understands him more than Matthias does, too.

She crosses the room and pulls out Lincoln’s desk chair to take a seat. “So,” she starts with a cheeky smile, “your art teacher called me today.”

“What? Why?”

“She wanted to tell me how talented you are and she thinks you should submit some of your art to an Oregon state art show. She thinks you have a good chance of having your art accepted. That kind of thing looks good on college applications, you know.”

For a moment, excitement bubbles up inside of Lincoln. But almost as soon as it’s there, his excitement fizzles out.

“You know dad doesn’t give a damn about this art stuff. If it’s not about the Power it’s not important,” Lincoln says. He turns away from his mom to stare despondently at the Nirvana poster hanging above the foot of his bed.

“That’s simply not true, sweetie,” Silvia says. “Now, I know your father can get a little… one-track minded about the Power, but he and I will always support you no matter what you choose to do.”

Lincoln snorts. “You don’t actually believe that, do you?”

“Lincoln…”

“Dad barely has anything to say to me since I told him I refused to use my power anymore. And the way he talks to Abel makes it obvious he wishes I were like him. Not some screwup who can’t do anything useful with the Power and who gets Bs and Cs in school and whose greatest dream is to work at a tattoo shop.”

“Hey.” Silvia’s tone is serious and firm. “Don’t ever call yourself a screwup again, understood?” At Lincoln’s silence, Silvia repeats herself even more firmly. “Lincoln, do you understand?”

“Yeah,” Lincoln says quietly. “I understand.”

“You are not your father. You’re Lincoln McQuoid. And you’re the only person who can decide what path in life will make you happy. Maybe it’s true that Dad wishes you cared more about the things he’s passionate about, but regardless of any of that, he loves you Lincoln. And I do too.”

At Silvia’s words, Lincoln can’t help but smile. “You’re a pretty kickass mom. You know that, right?”

“Oh, I know.” Silvia reaches out and gives Lincoln’s shoulder a soft squeeze. “Where do you think you get your kickass-ness from?”

Lincoln laughs. “That’s so not a word. But to answer your question… I definitely get it from you.”

***

Ten years ago

“It’s not working,” Lincoln said miserably. “Maybe the ritual didn’t work. I don’t have any powers like Superman or Wonder Woman.”

They’d been working nonstop since the ritual and Lincoln missed an entire week of first grade, yet Lincoln’s power still hadn’t decided to reveal itself. Lincoln was starting to think he wasn’t strong enough after all, that somehow the fact that this wasn’t working was his fault.

They were standing behind the garage. Forests and trees expanded in all directions behind them and birds chirped overhead. The mansion rose high above the ground, its stony exterior seeming cold and foreboding today. The pool cleaner hummed nearby, and the home’s generators buzzed in the distance.

All of these sounds, all of these sights, were a distraction to Lincoln’s young mind. Anxiety weighed down on him. He was never going to get this to work, was he?

Beside him, Matthias ran a frustrated hand over his face. “Don’t compare yourself to those childish superheroes, Lincoln. You’ll be far greater than them.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Let’s try this one more time.” Matthias squatted in front of Lincoln so they were the same height. “We don’t know what you can do yet, but the Power obviously blessed you with something. So I need you to focus.”

“I’ve been focusing.”

“Well obviously not hard enough!” Matthias’s voice was suddenly rough and his mask of patience shattered to reveal swirling anger beneath it. Lincoln flinched back a step, but almost as soon as it was there, his father’s anger was gone. Matthias sighed and reached out, taking Lincoln’s hand. “I’m sorry, son. I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way. But I know you can do this, alright? I know you can.”

Lincoln nodded warily, but his little hands trembled ever so slightly with uneasiness.

Matthias ruffled Lincoln’s hair. “Close your eyes. Feel the warmth of the air. Listen to the sounds surrounding you. Focus inward. Try to feel the Power deep within you. I know it’s there, Lincoln. You just have to find it.”

So Lincoln did as he was told. He closed his eyes… he focused on the warm sun beating down on him… he focused on the sounds of birds chirping and tree leaves rustling and the pool cleaner whirring… and then he tried to feel whatever power was hidden somewhere inside him. He thought about how he felt hungry, because he was supposed to have eaten lunch an hour ago but Matthias had been so focused on the Power that he seemed to have forgotten about it. He thought about how his toes felt hot and stuffy inside the socks and tennis shoes he was wearing.

He thought about how he wished he could find his power already so that he could stop doing this and go watch some cartoons. And then he thought about how guilty he was that he was thinking that instead of focusing, like his father had told him to.

Lincoln squeezed his eyes shut tighter and ground his teeth together. Focus… he told himself. Focus…

And he did focus. He focused for so long that he lost track of time. He focused until all he could think about was how loud his stomach grumbled. Finally, he felt a hand on top of his head.

“Alright, that’s enough, Lincoln,” Matthias said. His voice was thick with disappointment.

Lincoln looked up at him hopefully. “Did it work?”

Matthias shook his head with a frown, and Lincoln’s heart sank. “Don’t worry,” Matthias said. “We’ll try something else. I won’t give up on you.”

In that moment, the words were a comfort to Lincoln. He hadn’t failed his father, not completely. But within a few years, those words would come to mean something else to Lincoln.

I won’t give up on you is what his father had said. I won’t give up on me is what he’d meant.

A few hours later, Lincoln was splashing about in the pool while Silvia reclined on one of the poolside armchairs.

“Look at what I can do, Mom!” Lincoln yelled before giving a rather unimpressive attempt at an underwater backflip.

Nonetheless, Silvia smiled and clapped when Lincoln’s head popped up out of the water. “That was wonderful, sweetheart!”

Lincoln grinned from ear to ear and began to backstroke across the pool. As he swam, the door to the pool yard swung open and Matthias stepped out onto the deck. Silvia’s smile faded and she looked away from him.

“You’re rewarding him with pool time?” Matthias asked as he took the chair beside Silvia.

“Yes. He’s having a great time. Can’t you see?” Silvia gestured at Lincoln who had reached the opposite wall. His excitement dimmed when his eyes landed on Matthias.

“Hi Dad,” he said with an uncertain wave.

Matthias nodded at him in acknowledgement. “Hello, son.” He turned back to Silvia. “He still hasn’t gotten in touch with the Power. I know it’s there, Silvia.”

“You’ve kept him out of school for a week, Matthias. I know you love the Power, and I know you’re passionate about it, but there’s more to life than this! He needs to go to school. He needs to learn and to make friends. I’m not against him learning to use the Power but if that becomes more important than everything else in his life? If that weakens your relationship with him? Then yes, I’ll be opposed to it.”

Lincoln was pretending to not listen as he threw a water-soaked squishy ball up into the air over and over again, but he was. That was the thing about parents. For some reason they always thought that whenever they talked about adult things, kids wouldn’t hear it. But Lincoln always heard, and he always listened.

“This is the most important thing in my life,” Matthias said. “It should be the most important thing in all our lives, Silvia. You may not fully understand now, but someday, I promise you that you will, my love.”

“Will I?”

“Yes. You know what my dream is. For the three of us to always be together. And I promise, that’s what I’m going to make happen.” He stood and leaned down to kiss Silvia on the top of her head. “I love you and Lincoln with my entire being.”

A reluctant smile pulled at Silvia’s lips. “I know you do. And I love you too.”

“Then you’ll trust me to do what’s best for us?”

Silvia looked up at Matthias in consideration. After a long moment, she nodded. “I trust you, Matthias.”

Matthias smiled at her in relief, and then turned to Lincoln in the pool. “Lincoln?”

Lincoln immediately dropped the ball into the water and looked over at his father.

“Would you mind getting dressed and coming with me? I want to try one more thing with you to awaken the Power. If it doesn’t work, we’ll take a break from it, alright?”

“You don’t have to do this,” Silvia cut in. “But if you want to, then you should.”

Lincoln looked between his parents and then finally nodded. “Okay. I’ll go with Dad. I want to have powers anyway.”

Matthias grinned. “Perfect. Now hurry and get cleaned up.”

Soon, Lincoln was dressed in pajamas and sitting cross-legged on the dirt ground beside the stream that he’d dropped his blood into in return for power. Matthias was sitting beside him, seemingly unbothered by the way his expensive custom-made suit pants were getting dirtied and stained from the ground.

“So… now what do I do? The same thing as before?” Lincoln asked.

Matthias shook his head. “No, Lincoln. We’re going to try something else. It’s something that some… old friends of mine used to do when their power wasn’t awakening the way it was supposed to.”

“Okay.”

“It’s going to be a little uncomfortable, and it might hurt a little bit. But I promise you that you’ll be okay and this is all just so you can have the best, alright?”

Lincoln’s stomach twisted with nervousness. “It might hurt? Like when I had to cut open my hand?”

“Not exactly,” Matthias said. “It’s more in your head. Maybe you’ll feel some pressure there. Do you trust me?”

Lincoln immediately nodded. “Of course I do.”

“Good,” Matthias said with a warm smile. “Now do what I usually have you do. I’m going to provide some outside assistance.”

So Lincoln did as he was told. He did what he always tried to do—sense the Power inside him. He closed his eyes and focused on the world around him, he tried to become one with it. And as he did, a strange feeling crept into the base of his skull. At first it was nothing more than a distant pressure, but after a few moments the feeling began to spread from his head to his fingers to the very tips of his toes.

Lincoln groaned as the pressure spread, becoming more and more uncomfortable. Perhaps this was the Power? He cracked one eye open to see his father kneeling across from him, an ancient-looking book open in his lap as a light glowing light emanated from his fingers.

“What—what’s that?” Lincoln asked, his voice shrill with fear.

Matthias’s gaze jerked up from the book and his eyes narrowed. “Don’t think about me! Focus on what you’re supposed to be doing.”

“But it hurts, Dad. It hurts!”

“I told you that it would hurt,” Matthias snapped impatiently. “You told me you could handle it. Can you handle it?”

Lincoln sniffled and wiped at his watering eyes. “I… I think so.”

“Good. Because I know you can do this, and I’m not letting up until you have your power.”

Lincoln closed his eyes again, trying his best to ignore the painful pressure that was spreading through his entire body. He tried to focus on the power—whatever that even meant—so he could make his father proud. That was all he wanted… wasn’t it?

“AHHH!” Pain shot through him and he fell forward, his elbows digging into the dirt. His breath was ragged and labored. It felt like his entire body was compressing, like his arms and legs were being ripped apart.

“It’s all in your head, Lincoln,” came Matthias’s voice. “I know it hurts, but you can pull through! People have gone through this dozens of times before and it always makes them stronger.”

“I can’t…” Lincoln whimpered as tears squeezed from his eyes.

“Yes you can! I know you can.”

All Lincoln wanted was to go home, to curl up in bed, for his mother to hold him and tell him everything was alright. He wanted his father to stop doing whatever he was doing, to leave him alone. But as the fragmented thoughts started to float around his head, a new sensation awoke within him.

It was something that buzzed warm and strong in his core. The new feeling seemed to chase away the pain until Lincoln felt like he was floating. Lincoln sat up slowly. He held his hands up in front of himself and cautiously placed one hand against a rock that was resting in the dirt beside him.

The moment his hand made contact with the rock, something strange happened. It was like a million different intersecting stories were all making their way into his mind all at once. There was so much information, so much history, it was too much for his child’s mind to handle. The rock slipped from Lincoln’s hand and his hands flew to his head, gripping on either side as he screamed as if that could force the pain away.

“Lincoln? Lincoln!” Matthias tossed the book aside and knelt in front of his son. “What’s going on? Are you alright?”

“No no no no no…” Lincoln repeated over and over again. It was too much, it was far too much…

Matthias wrapped Lincoln up in his arms and held him close against his chest. “I’m sorry,” he whispered into Lincoln’s hair. “I shouldn’t have pushed you. I’m sorry.”

When Lincoln’s head was clear and he could finally speak, he pulled out of his father’s embrace. “I think it worked,” he said softly.

Matthias’s eyes widened. “Your power awoke?”

“Yeah, but…” Lincoln’s lips tugged downward and once more he felt like he was on the brink of tears. “It hurts, Dad. It hurts so much.”

“What hurts?”

“Seeing everything. It hurts.”

Matthias’s eyebrows lifted. “Seeing… everything?”

Lincoln nodded solemnly. “When I touch things, I can see where they’ve been. I can see what they’ve seen. But they see too much. I can’t do it, Dad, I can’t.”

“I understand,” Matthias said, but something dangerous sparkled in his eyes. “So you can see the histories of objects by touching them? That’s the gift the Power gave you?”

Lincoln gave an uneasy shrug. “I guess?”

“Then it would appear that you are blessed after. Yes, you are very blessed indeed.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’re going to master this power, Lincoln,” Matthias said. “You’re going to learn what makes this family so special.”

Lincoln’s stomach tightened with fear and he suddenly felt sick. “But I told you. It hurt. It was too much. I don’t want to do that ever again.”

“You say that now, my boy, but once you get through the worst of it, I promise you that it’ll be worth it. A gift from the Power is a rare thing. You must be grateful for it.”

Lincoln nodded, but he wasn’t so certain. And as his father held his hand and walked him back to the car, Lincoln felt unsure. Unsure that he was grateful for this power, unsure that he wanted to strengthen it, and unsure that his father was right.

***

After that day, some things were forever changed.

“Do you trust me?” he had asked. In that moment, I truthfully answered yes. He was my father, the man I looked up to more than anyone, the person I wanted to become. Of course I trusted him.

But after that day, that trust was gone.

For good.

***

The Present

A few minutes after Silvia leaves, Abel joins Lincoln inside his room. He takes the seat at Lincoln’s desk, which is littered with pens and piles of papers covered in artsy designs.

“Hey, Linc,” Abel says.

“Hi.”

Silence blankest the room, the only sound the soft whirring of the fan overhead. After a long moment, Abel finally speaks. “So. That was an interesting dinner, I guess.”

“Sure,” Lincoln says.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You can do whatever you want, Abel.”

“Okay.” Abel leans back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling as he contemplates his next words. “I know you’ve had… issues with your dad. I mean, it’s obvious and I’ve known for a long time. But the thing is, I don’t know why.”

“Because he’s an asshole, man.”

Abel chuckles. “I mean, I’ve gotten that much. But like, don’t hate me for saying it, but every time I talk to him he seems really nice.” Lincoln’s eyes narrow and he throws Abel a glance verging on furious. Abel quickly adds, “Not that I think he’s a nice guy! I’m just saying, I obviously don’t see the same side of him that you do.”

Lincoln lets out a humorless laugh. “I’ll say.”

“Look, Linc. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. But in case you do ever feel like you need to talk to someone about anything… you know I’m here, right?”

A small smile pulls at Lincoln’s lips. “Yeah. I know. It’s just, my dad and I don’t get along. We haven’t for years. He wants me to be someone I’m not, and he can’t accept that I’m not that person. So when I see him treating you like a son…”

“Oh god…” Abel says, his brow furrowed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“I know you didn’t. I’m not mad at you.”

“What exactly did he do?”

Lincoln sighs and turns to look at the posters on his wall. “It’s complicated and weird. But all you need to know is that I hate that man, and I have good reason to.”

“Okay. I believe you. So do—”

“Abel,” Lincoln interrupts. “Can we talk about something else? I’d rather not have that bastard on my mind right now, you know?”

Abel nods. “Okay, yeah. No problem. Let’s talk about something else. Um, are you excited for the senior prank this weekend?”

A grin stretches across Lincoln’s face. “Hell yeah I am. Your idea for turning the entire school into a beach party was pretty genius.”

“I just got it online, but thanks for saying so anyway.”

“Now the real question is if you think Avery will be impressed by all of your preparations,” Lincoln says with a smirk, and Abel’s face flushes pink.

“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes you do.”

“I don’t!”

“Do too.”

“Okay, maybe I do know a little bit.”

Lincoln sits up, grateful to have something else to think about, even if it’s just for a moment. “Then we’d better knock this thing out of the park.”

#it lives within #ilw #playchoices #my fic #lincoln aquino #lincoln mcquoid #matthias mcquoid #abel flint #silvia mcquod #ilaw

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mazzystar24 · 2 years ago

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Warning I’m feeling bitter toward the writers

Roswell New Mexico does a great job of traumatising its characters yet not knowing how to write traumatised characters

Flint and all the shit they implied and stated? Let’s just have him disappear and never be mentioned again

Rosa gets literally murdered? Don’t even consider that shush how about her drug addiction (no I’m not disregarding the importance of that storyline but like hello a person can experience and deal with multiple trauma and that can be portrayed)

Michael gets explicitly stated to have severe religious trauma due to being literally exorcised and burnt with a cross as a child? Sure let’s have him PRAY in season two and pretend that it’s sweet- no that’s not enough actually let’s really drill in how traumatising that experience was for him in season three by saying he legit was convinced he was a demon as a result AND THEN let’s have him get married but have his sort of brother wear the priest outfit and hold a bible even though neither Michael nor his husband appear to have some religious affiliation

Alex spends his entire life abused by his father for his sexuality and never feeling comfortable with being with a man publicly because of it? Makes perfect sense but let’s paint him as an asshole for having that trauma response in season 1 wait this character who has been here two seconds can fix that by being like yeah you’re not out enough for me sorry

And yes I’m gonna mention Michael again because they did that poor guy so dirty

Michael gets his hand broken by psychopath (see: becomes a victim of a hate crime the first time he ever had sex with a guy) let’s toss that aside for a moment and have him be forced cover up and witness a murder (see: more trauma ) okay now that that is done let’s have him act out, push people away, drink, get into fights, etc NOW like we did with Alex let’s all pretend that that’s not a completely valid (valid, not healthy, VALID) trauma response and instead have him receive insults and lectures about his behaviour instead of a shred of understanding THEN let’s just heal his hand and have his brother die and not allow him to feel anything about that until he helps save his brother and let’s just focus on his love life in the majority of season two and then have the healing and recovery all happen off screen in the missing year between 2 and 3

There are more examples where they did this but I wrote wayy too much now

#roswell new mexico #rnm #michael guerin #alex manes #alex guerin #roswell nm

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intheseautumnhands · 2 years ago

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I COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT DAWSONS CHRISTIAN

I LOVE THAT SONG-

@nsfwitchy (you have good music taste pls gimme the rest of ur narrative songs)

IT'S SUCH A GREAT SONG. Also a favorite for singing along to, it can be so much fun in that telling-a-story kind of tone.

Man, where do we start, I love narrative songs nad I have way too many. XD Let's see, I might be stretching the definition slightly, some are more "songs clearly about a character in a way that sketches a story around it" if that makes sense, but --

Heather Dale does a lot, most is based on mythology/legends, but some favorites: Sedna, The Maiden and the Selkie, Joan, Skeleton Woman, Up Into the Pear Tree

SJ Tucker also does this a lot, often based on books. Seanan McGuire also does this a fair bit, but it's hard to find her music online. I am under the impression Talis Kimberly does this a fair bit too, but the only songs of hers I know well enough to recommend are Still Catch the Tide (which I REALLY REALLY do), Archetype Cafe, My Lady of the Underpass, and Small Mended Corners

Vixy & Tony: The Girl That's Never Been, The Collars, Ladies Don't Do Those Things, Thirteen, Persephone, Siren Song, Anna

Dessa also does a lot in a MUCH different tone; If and When is maybe my favorite, but also Mineshaft 2, Children's Work, Dixon's Girl, Skeleton Key, I Hope I'm Wrong, and if you don't mind some intense subject matter, The Lamb and Annabelle

Vienna Teng: 1br/1ba, Say Uncle, Shasta (Carrie's Song), Homecoming (Walter's Song), Passage, Grandmother Song, Radio

The Doubleclicks: Wrong About Gender, Now I Am the Fastest, Lasers and Feelings

Radical Face basically has like. a narrative career. at least three albums (the Family Tree albums + The Bastards) form the stories of various characters, starting with one family and sprawling from there. there are charts. the songs are beautiful alone and scratch this itch as well, but when you see the narratives develop it gets even better. special mentions: The Dead Waltz, Holy Branches, Secrets (Cellar Door)

Relatedly, Jordan Reyne's album Children of a Factory Nation tells a story through the album, and Mama Gina's album Nine-Toes the Bard is told in-character, giving the title character's life story and things that have happened around her

Dar Williams: The Christians and the Pagans; The Ocean; When I Was a Boy; The Babysitter's Here; This Is Not the House That Pain Built; The Pointless, Yet Poignant, Crisis of a Co-Ed; Mortal City

Sleeping at Last: Next to Me, Mars

Kat Flint: London Lullaby, Ohio, Saddest Blue Dress

Ani Difranco: Both Hands, Fixing Her Hair, Two Little Girls

I feel like I could name quite a few comedy songs that do this? Easier to make a joke from. XD But I'm specifically gonna go from the Brobdingnagian Bards for now, not all of which are original: Do Virgins Taste Better Medley, A Prudent Theif, A Fairy Story, The Unicorn Song, The Orange and the Green, Oor Hamlet

Misc:

Come On Eileen (Dexy's Midnight Runners)

A Better Place, A Better Time (Streetlight Manifesto)

Winter's Carol (Tori Amos)

Next to Me (Alan Cumming)

One Last Drink (Enter the Haggis)

Brother (Murder by Death)

My Manic and I (Laura Marling)

Anywhere On This Road (Lhasa de Sela)

Space Girl (The Imagined Village)

Home (Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros)

Fairies Stole My Keys (Emerald Rose)

Taylor, The Latte Boy (Kristen Chenoweth, but also the Alan Cumming version is adorable)

Hit and Run (LOLO)

The Wintry Queen (Coyote Run is my favorite of the available covers)

Pierre (Ryn Weaver)

Magic Man (Heart)

The Way (Fastball)

Your House (Alanis Morissette)

Larissa's Lagoon (Idina Menzel)

-- I feel like I'm gonna hit post and immediately think of like twenty more but that is probably. way more than enough. XD

#I REALLY LIKE SHARING MUISC okay #I'm very sorry to everyone who gives me an excuse to do so #cause I WILL take it #I don't know how likely any of these are to be new to you specifically #or anyone in general #i am really bad at figuring out what most people know XD #but hopefully a couple interest you!

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iviarellereads · 9 months ago

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The Eye of the World, Chapter 23 - Wolfbrother

(THIS PROJECT IS SPOILER FREE! No spoilers past the chapter you click on. Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For the link index and a primer on The Wheel of Time, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

(Wolf icon)(1) In which, you can't expect me to say anything here besides AWOO!

Perrin's first sign that the journey to Caemlyn will be rough is when Egwene insists they take turns riding Bela. When they stop for the night, Perrin takes down a rabbit with his sling, and brings it back to camp. Egwene is sitting with her eyes closed next to the wood. He asks what she's doing, you can't wish a fire. She tells him she'd used the One Power to start the last one, she lost her flint and steel in the river.

He says he'll make a firebow, and asks her to promise not to channel again. She refuses outright, asking if he'd give up his axe so easily, or tie one hand behind his back. He makes a firebow and asks her not to try again that night, but she does it every other night, despite her best attempt only spawning a trickle of smoke.(2)

They don't find much in the way of food, and no roads, no villages, not even a farmhouse to ask directions. They do find some very old ruins and both of them have nightmares.

Then one evening, they smell a cookfire, it might even be rabbit. Perrin takes the lead to check it out, and finds a sun-brown man leaning against a tall oak tree. His clothes appear to be made of haphazard furs and animal skins, and he's got six rabbits roasting on sticks over his fire.

“You done drooling?” The man opened one eye and cocked it at Perrin’s hiding place. “You and your friend might as well sit and have a bite. I haven’t seen you eat much the last couple of days.”

The man introduces himself as Elyas Machera, and Perrin notices with a start that his eyes are yellow, which calls up some memory that's quickly replaced by realizing Trollocs' eyes are black. He calls for Egwene, and at Elyas's prompting, they both fall to the rabbits, eating themselves full before they stop to talk any more.

Elyas asks where they're headed, and Egwene says to Caemlyn. Elyas says they'll pass a hundred miles north of Caemlyn, the path they're taking, and they'll find no people on the way. He laughs a little too hard at his own joke about not finding anyone until they hit the Aiel Wastes, and the Aiel don't like strangers much at all. Perrin worries that they've trusted a madman.(3)

Egwene asks if Elyas can show them the way, he doesn't have to take them himself if he doesn't want to be near people. Suddenly, he hushes her and Perrin both. His friends are coming.

Bela suddenly whinnied in fear, and began jerking to pull her reins free. Perrin half rose as shapes appeared all around them in the darkening forest. Bela reared and twisted, screaming. “Quiet the mare,” Elyas said. “They won’t hurt her. Or you, if you’re still.” Four wolves stepped into the firelight, shaggy, waist-high forms with jaws that could break a man’s leg. As if the people were not there they walked up to the fire and lay down between the humans. In the darkness among the trees firelight reflected off the eyes of more wolves, on all sides. Yellow eyes, Perrin thought. Like Elyas’s eyes. That was what he had been trying to remember.(4)

Elyas recommends Perrin not reach for his axe, the wolves might stop being friendly if they think he means harm. The wolves are uncanny calm and smart, avoiding Bela's nervous kicks. Egwene asks if they're tame, and Elyas says wolves don't tame, they're just his friends. They communicate, not in words, but in feelings.

Perrin asks how he learned to talk to wolves, and Elyas says the wolves found him, taught him. Everyone thought he was touched by the Dark One when wolves showed up wherever he went, but there's nothing Dark about them. Egwene nervously says she doesn't know any stories about men hunting with wolves, and Elyas says wolves remember things differently, and have much longer memories than people because of it.

“That’s very interesting,” Egwene said, and Elyas looked at her sharply. “No, I mean it. It is.” She wet her lips. “Could . . . ah . . . could you teach us to talk to them?”(5) Elyas snorted again. “It can’t be taught. Some can do it, some can’t. They say he can.” He pointed at Perrin. Perrin looked at Elyas’s finger as if it were a knife. He really is a madman. The wolves were staring at him again. He shifted uncomfortably.(6)

Elyas asks how they ended up out here, and they tell him an elaborate story. They've rehearsed the story every day, but Elyas says one of the wolves, Dapple, calls it all lies.(7) Both of them start to sweat. Egwene offers that they should maybe make their own camp elsewhere, but Elyas wants to know about the Trollocs and Myrddraal. The wolves smelled them in their thoughts, while they were telling their story, and wolves hate Trollocs and Myrddraal worse than anything, and so does Elyas.

Egwene looks at Perrin, waiting for him to decide what to do. He gives in and tells the whole, real story. Elyas listens calmly, and tells them that he doesn't deal with Aes Sedai. A group of Red Ajah wanted to try to gentle him, once. He had to kill a few Warders to escape, but they never caught him. It wouldn't have stopped him talking to wolves, he has no access to the Power, but it made him angry that they even wanted to try.

Perrin says he'd as soon avoid Aes Sedai too, but he has no choice, with what's chasing them all. Elyas is quiet for a long stretch, looking back and forth between several of the wolves. When Perrin watches him, he can almost swear he can understand what Elyas is saying. One of the wolves grins at him, and he knows somehow that his name is Hopper, though he doesn't know how.

Elyas finally offers that they can stay with him, and the pack. The wolves hate darkspawn, they'll kill whatever tries to come for him, because he can learn to speak to them. They'll even tolerate Egwene for him.

Perrin's trying to tell Elyas that no, he really has no idea what they mean about him being able to talk to wolves, when Egwene cuts in firmly that they're going to Caemlyn, both of them. Perrin snarks a bit over not being asked, but agrees with her. Elyas says that's what Dapple, the wolves' leader, said they'd choose. He and the pack will accompany them south tomorrow, though one of the wolves, Burn, would rather they go kill any Trollocs they can find this far south.

Perrin sat wrapped in his own silence. He could feel Burn leaving. And the scarred male was not the only one; a dozen others, all young males, loped after him. He wanted to believe it was all Elyas playing on his imagination, but he could not. Just before the departing wolves faded from his mind, he felt a thought he knew came from Burn, as sharp and clear as if it were his own thought. Hatred. Hatred and the taste of blood.

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(1) HOLY SHIT WE'VE GOT A WOLFMAN IN THE MIX Y'ALL! Well, sort of. Not exactly as you might be thinking, at least as far as the information we have here. (2) I think she's forgetting that part of the way Moiraine guided her was a bit of almost meditation. Until you're used to doing it, it's hard to do that sort of thing without guidance and be sure you're actually relaxing into it. (3) He's been semi-forced to live as far away from human habitation as possible to feel safe from being ostracized, of course he's lost a little bit of his humanity. How many years has he been wandering alone but for the wolves? (4) Of course. Wolves have yellow eyes. Oh, some tend toward slightly greenish, but on the whole, eerie yellow. (5) There's good reason Egg was my favourite character on my first read: she wants to know everything. (6) So, Elyas has a history with Aes Sedai, and he's the first person he knows of in hundreds, or maybe a thousand years or more, who can talk to wolves. And then Perrin comes along and they realize he could learn to do it too. Perrin, of course, is completely unprepared to be Special™️ in that hero way, so he goes straight into full denial. Oh, Perrin, sweetie, it's okay, you'll adjust. But you're going to have to learn that you're a main character in a fantasy epic. (7) Is Elyas right about Perrin's alleged latent ability to talk to wolves? Is that how they knew the kids were lying, or are the wolves more generally telepathic?

#wheel of time #wot #the wheel of time #twot #the eye of the world #eye of the world #eotw #teotw #wot wolf icon #perrin aybara #egwene al'vere #elyas machera

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