#If you disagree please do so politely
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epicness1000 · 1 month ago
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I'm Disappointed in How Honkai Star Rail's 2.6 Update Handled Boothill
I posted this elsewhere, but I thought to post this here.
If you're unable to take criticism of HSR and its writing, then don't read.
Is it just me? Well, it probably is, but I'm going to make a post (more like an essay) about it anyway.
I think a character like Boothill– one driven by anger, hate and revenge– isn't one to just be ignored or accepted. This is the kind of character that should be deconstructed. He claims to protect the innocent, and kill those who are evil– but who is he to decide who is innocent, and who is guilty? If he claims to spread justice– well, what is justice? Is it really as simple as the deadly means he uses, or is this all just a wall to justify his embracing of violence, a method of lashing out he uses in response to his trauma? I mean– he's killed a lot of people, and if those people include IPC lackeys (they almost certainly do), then there's no doubt at least some of them were innocent by most definitions of the word. And, if they're all truly just evil and guilty– well, that just feels like a weakness of the narrative, and its unwillingness to genuinely explore the possible issue it raises, an easy way out so to say. Boothill comes across as hypocritical to me, since who's to say that in the eyes of another, he's not also a villain/criminal to be put down? Is he not guilty in many ways too, maybe even within his own moral framework?
I'd LOVE to see the HSR narrative tackle these things, and I was hoping it would– but this update doesn't seem to have done any of that, even if it tried to open up his character.
I don't like that the fact that he genuinely doesn't seem to have any qualms with killing goes unquestioned. Don't get me wrong– I love morally grey/dark characters– but only if they're handled well. And I don't think that's the case here, since it feels like the narrative fails to frame his acts as something questionable. Even the robot ape guy he threatens brings up that taking a life the first time would make anyone hesitate, even the most heinous of villains– yet Boothill doesn't, and this... isn't really brought up again? Even though I think it really should be? If a couple things were flipped, Boothill could easily be a (really cool) tragic villain, or questionable anti-hero– but it feels like hoyo is just trying to make him marketable without really exploring these interesting ideas, because they might make him look less innocent/likeable.
I make this analogy a lot, but I think the best character to look at when it comes to 'anti-hero who is convinced that he's spreading justice and defending the weak, when in reality it's just a front for violence/trauma, and their morals desperately need to be deconstructed' is Raiden from Metal Gear Rising: Revengeance. If you know, you'll probably understand what I mean– if not, I'm happy to elaborate.
Either way, I just hope that when Boothill inevitably gets more development, these things are explored in some capacity. I love him as a character, I just don't like how the narrative is dealing with him so far.
(I'm very happy to have a discussion about this– I'm not aiming to change anyone's mind if they enjoyed the update's contents– but I did want to speak my opinion).
(ALso- I brought this up in a discord chat, and I want to bring it up again. This is kind of comparable to Light Yagami's mindset– OBVIOUSLY they are literal opposites in personality and character, but the whole concept of 'I eradicate the guilty and protect the innocent' seems to be driving both of them. The difference is that Death Note bothered to analyse this idea and point out how ultimately wrong it is for one person to decide who is innocent or guilty, who deserves to live or die– while Honkai Star Rail not only avoids this, but almost seems to frame it as heroic? To be blunt– I think that is incredibly stupid.)
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a-dash-in-the-middle · 7 days ago
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wanting to visit the archives without looking like a fanatic bc nobody likes posting government documents online apparently
#this is why i hate politics people do shit without proof all the time#and they do it from the both sides so even if i hate one i have to look at the other one and be like please get some proof just because the#are known liars does not put you in a pure truth position simply by disagreeing with them and i really need to like you#so i have to dig for the information myself bc i am done jumping to conclusions after watching reels and then jumping to news articles#created either after the reel or by some random sentence somebody said and then it gets picked up by bigger news outlets#bc NOBODY FACT CHECKS ANYMORE its all abt speed first ig#so i have to check credentials i am not blind hating and fearing anymore#like my dad said information is the most valuable thing rn and the problem is when the government hides it#also get your party out of the protests<3#it is made by the citizens to fight injustice not to put you in charge you have to work on that yourself not by simply being -the others-#bc that is how we got into this mess in the first place#and it discredits the people's concerns so much bc now it's party moves and not citizen unhappiness with the system#which is a story they could not have spun if they did not get involved so clearly i mean dude#will not even going to get into the fucking embarrassing kind of gaslighting the government is doing#they are literally looking at photos and saying nuh uh when faced with bullet proof evidence and then bullshitting#which is so offensive bc at least fucking care enough to lie well but they know they can say the sky is green and they will still stay in#power so why give a fuck i guess#0 notes to me#i am sorry for the rant#i just have to let this off my chest somewhere
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Can I ask when the last time “dick worshipper”, etc. has actually been used by a radblr woman? Not a black-pill orbiter; they’re awful to everyone and don’t tend to last long here. I mean from someone in radblr, claiming to be a radical feminist or supporting radical feminism. I know it used to be fairly common years ago. So did political lesbianism, which pissed everyone off for different reasons. Most of those people either left or just don’t show up in my circles anymore, and those that do again don’t last long. So where is this coming from? I see it referenced but no recent examples. I am seeing a hell of a lot of recent homophobia from women in radblr though. Every woman I’ve seen addressing the homophobia has stated the misogynistic terms aren’t okay, again, even though from what I’ve seen it hasn’t happened for a long time. Whereas I’m seeing a ton of defensiveness and doubling down in regards to the homophobia. And there seems to be this demand of all lesbians and non-lesbian pro-separatist women to denounce the “dick worshipper” type comments, and it’s like, A) they already have and B) if they’re not the ones who said it can you stop conflating pro-separatist arguments with that shit? Again, this is just what I’ve seen. Maybe the “dick-worshipper” comments are all over some areas of radblr, but they’re not from anyone I follow or have seen on my dash for years. I’d say for the last four or five years the only time I’ve seen it is from women asking not to be called that--which, I agree, I don’t want to be called that and I don’t want to see other women called that. It’s just, I haven’t been called it or seen it for a long time, so something’s not adding up.
#I've seen pile-ons and singling out which I thought were ill-timed or unhelpful#which I've addressed in another post#I think if a woman isn't directly harming a woman you'll do more to bring her to radical feminism by making general posts#rather than singling her out and calling her a bad feminist#but that's quite a bit different from dick worshipper etc.#like there was a lot I didn't like from radblr way back when#there were so many political lesbians that you couldn't tell when a thoughtful pro-separatist argument was going to slide into that#you couldn't tell when a heterosexual voluntary celibate post was going to then argue that heterosexuality was socialized#today's radblr that I can see is just not that#but thoughtful arguments are being treated as if they were#people being accused of shit they did not say#all the comparisons to lesbians with incels or men in general like what the fuck#YOU are the ones making things unpleasant here now#not the lesbians#not the pro-separatists#can we address one another's arguments in their own words and not by what you think they mean based on what someone else said please?#you can in fact respectfully disagree on certain points#we can in fact reclaim feminism and let radical feminism stay radical#it's okay#once upon a time I remember a Take Back The Night rally where the radical feminists were identified and welcomed with open arms#and the thing was most of the women there were not radical feminists#and that was completely okay and acknowledged#and we could still all unite for the common cause of women being safe at night#I remember in my early liberal feminist days--and I do mean liberal feminist not the faux-feminists that *libfem* tends to refer to now--#I would occasionally visit Twisty Faster's blog and I thought it was extreme but intriguing and refreshing#something that maybe wasn't for me but that I recognized as an important viewpoint nonetheless#and I was definitely not the only liberal feminist who felt that way#radical and liberal and other feminists often united against MRAs#god I wish we could go back to that.
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wild-at-mind · 14 days ago
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OK my new hot take is that no one should get radicalised into anything from this election result. Please instead take some time, rest, look after yourselves. And in a few weeks, start thinking about politics but stop when you find yourself spiralling.
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peace and love on planet earth save me.... peace and love on planet earth.... save me peace and love on planet earth....
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this-should-do · 6 months ago
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venting dont mind me xp ✌
#if i dont get out of my parents house im going to die#either by my hand or my mothers#i refuse to be forced into the role of woman becuz my mother cant get over herself or accept other peoples suffering#so i either leave or i die#i am never more depressed than when im in this house and it gets worse everytime i return#every second of oeace is a facade careful held up by smiles and jokes while ignoring who i am to please others#and ignorjng the genuinely genocidal beliefs of my parents against myltple peoples#at least one of which includes me#why cant life be easy#when is it .y turn to tbrive#in this hluse i am no older than a middle schooler no more mature or happy#everyday i dream of relapsing sh-ing just for some control of the pain i experiemce something anything#maybe someone will finally listen to me and se ehow ioset i am see how smothered i am and the sting will pull me back down to earth again#but no who would see would understand#my brothers or my parents none of them would kniw why even if i said it to thwir face#i dint event even want to think of what my mother woukd say#shed use it as an excuse to further deny my transness surely#say how horribke and spirtful and manipulative i am against her#that i ddi it to hurt her#i am trapped as a doll in a house only allowed to be agreeable no politics no emotions other tan#contentness and love and adoration for my family#or else i am unloveavle and horrible and sick#i cannot tell my mom she has uoset me becuz it would be unfair i am silent instead#i am to take her anger and rage as a perfect recepticle and no matter how well i handle it#i am thanked with resentment amd scorn amd terfisms#i can neither disagree woth her beliefs nor avoid discussing them to keeo the oeace all she wants is comoliance#i refuse to do that tho ill take hee scorn on that one thing i refuse to xomprimise my beliefs verbally to save my own skin#ill just be quiet#im sure id be a better recepticle for her dead so she can dress me up as a girl one last time#the dead cant argue or disagree with you its everything she wants from me
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hum-suffer · 8 months ago
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...there are definitely days where I regret being close friends with a liberal and this is one of them
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kagebros · 2 years ago
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I'm glad everyone is realizing exclusionist freaks such as yourself are fucking morons because of the the one who leaked the no fly list. Nobody would miss you or the rest of you scum if you killed yourselves.
Why is it so hard to say that bi lesbianism is harmful and why is it that lesbians have to go through the constant bullshit that is having to say that lesbianism is attraction to people who aren't men. The word sapphic exists for wlw who aren't lesbians. It's literally right there. Also calling yourself bisexual isn’t the end of the fucking world.
Literally why is that discourse never prominent in the gay men side of the community, please explain. How come I never see discourse about how a gay man can still be attracted to a woman and still be gay. It seriously just seems like a way to demonise lesbians cus they constantly get shit for this. For not having any attraction to men. Lol.
Also. Where did this come from. Why are you sending this now are you bitter over something to sui bait me?? Also can we please like. Focus on the actual racism that's been brought up from the no fly list..
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ominouspositivity-or-else · 2 years ago
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Dude, you're in idiot. The club q shooter is trying to say he's nonbinary in order to avoid hate crime charges. The people around him have stated that he's gone on multiple homophobic and transphobic rants and that they wouldn't feel safe having a gay person around him. Not that this matters to you, since catholics can't read. But you're an idiot
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received first hate mail! all they did was call me an idiot! on anon! and say that Catholics don't know how to read! which is hilarious! considering the reason that we have so many influential philosophical works is because of Catholics and our annoying habit of reading and writing!
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fridayiminlcve · 2 years ago
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seeing u slowly become a taylor swift hater is the biggest character development in the history of this planet not going to lie to you fam
😭😭😭😭 thank you ig
#asks#anon#not gonna lie to you fam i appreciate you sending this ask but also please do not describe me as a tswift hater#i used to love her at some point. as you probably know but i have deeply moved on from her i feel#like her songs are nice but they are just. not something i would typically enjoy anymore#and also despite having swiftie mutuals even if i enjoyed her music i would strongly detach myself from the fanbase#not on tumblr not really just in general. fans theyre so invasive and give me the ick especially thr hardcore ones#and her music is deep if u read into the lyrics and she does know how to write a song but also. this online thing where people worship her#is um. in bad taste like a while back on pinterest i saw a meme which went “listening to these artists is indie cottagecore lesbian culture#and instead of like clairo who you would expect somehwere in that list. she was there#bitch you mesn the world no.2 singer after the weeknd??? swifties online are insane#i do disagree with her on quite some points also like her political silence and environment and i can admire her as a singer songwriter#but its like how far can you go. you have the influence. she did that equality act petition in 2019 so we can see that#i would not call her overrated as i believe her music is generally fine but its not revolutionary by any means#she didnt bring anything new and unheard of to the pop genre except like wiping your insta page before a release#this was completely unneccesary sorry. but yeah i wouldnt call myself a hater but i dont like her much either#this was completely unwarranted you dont need to read this
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citrussly · 10 months ago
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@ everyone in the notes & elsewhere: please please vote istg like,,, the fatalistic idea of "why vote it won't do anything" is so painful to hear especially in young people
yes, depending on where you live & what you vote for your vote might not have as much effect as if you lived elsewhere. but also. even if voting doesn't change the end outcome (which is wrong, voting can and does change the end outcome that's literally how voting works), the shift in demographics or whatever shows Big Politics that hey! people like us do care!
by showing up in statistics on voting, we can give tangible proof that certain issues do matter; if you have an opinion that differs from the folks around you, even a slight change in data can show that important issues & public opinion are changing. over time, other people who share your view might also vote, and maybe—by showing that hey, these issues do matter, and there are people who disagree on how to handle those issues—you can make a real difference.
With so many elections coming up worldwide it's probably a good time to remind everyone that tumblr once got infested with agents trying to convince everyone not to vote, or not to vote left because the candidates weren't morally pure enough.
Also a reminder that they were better at tumblr than most of us, comrade interloper was great at memeing. Like, the talent!
Anyway don't fall for it. There is no morally pure option.
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evermore-fashion · 19 days ago
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Oh America 💔
I don't normally make political posts but after the last 24 hours I felt had to say something, especially towards those who voted for Kamala Harris.
I'm both heartbroken and angry as fuck for all of you, knowing that the next four years (and beyond) is going to be a real shit show especially for women and the LGBTQIA+ community. You all deserve to live authentic and truthful lives as well as have the freedom to do as you please with your bodies. Yet here we are staring down the barrel of a gun loaded with fascism, racism, homophobia and misogyny to name a few ready to be fired at us come January 2025. I might not be an American, but the decision thats been made today will have repercussions for the entire world and thats terrifying right now. So to anyone who voted for that shitbag... fuck you. You've just turned back the clocks on a lifetime of political and historical decisions that will impact all of us and future generations for decades to come.
If you disagree with my opinion on the US Election results, please unfollow or block me immediately.
Normal fashion posts will resume shortly. 💜
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atripandahalf · 1 year ago
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tumblr users have good argument form challenge level impossible
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teletubbyinlipstick · 3 months ago
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Hybrid!Poly TF141 x Reader Rambles
Once again, I'm unsure what to say. I get high, I get horny for these men, and then I hallucinate scenarios with said men. Please enjoy, please feel free to send in anything about these boys! Requests are open! I really like this idea, and I might continue to add on to it. https://www.tumblr.com/teletubbyinlipstick/760241391145238528/more-hybridpoly-tf141-x-reader-pleaaasseeeee?source=share heres the second part!
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OwlHybridAU!
Captain Price has big wings. When spread, they're just shy of 26 ft. A beautiful array of ash and brindle the feathers are easily the length of your arm. He keeps them tucked nicely, looking smaller than they are. On the field, if it ever comes down to it and he needs his wings, the look on enemies' faces when they spread is, in Soaps words,"so fuckin hot."
No one disagrees.
Johnny's wings are a bit smaller, around 18ft they're a deep honey brown. In the light, in-between the feathers, an indigo blue shines just slightly. His are more pointy at the end, a ripple effect used for disguising. Simon loves nothing more than to preen him.
Usually it ends with Johnny face down, high whimpers in his throat.
Speaking of Simon, he has the biggest wings in TF141 at 30ft. They're midnight black with streaks of white. When he's moving fast, they look almost like lightning across a black sky. His second layer of feathers is a dark gray. It's hard to notice the difference, but once you do, it's harder not to notice. He's intimidating. He knows.
It's his kink.
Gaz has the prettiest wings, 20ft, and the sweetest cocoa color. He has dirty blonde undertones that fade into pure auburn. His feathers get ruffled a little easily and the boys love teasing him for it.
It's a group effort to preen his wings.
Now theres you, new to the group, younger than them at early-mid twenties. Assigned as a mate for the boys by the government in hopes of reproducing strong genes. You're a sweet little thing, lithe with a pudgy tummy. Your wings are only 15ft. And very fluffy, a gorgeous cream with strawberry blonde highlights. The edges appear light tawny.
You're very beautiful. And the boys fall in love almost immediately upon receiving your file. They nest for you, soft blankets and pillows and sweatshirts placed in the rec room for a cozy habitat. They're keen to meet you, forgoing preening their feathers the night before in hopes of pack bonding tomorrow with you.
So imagine when you end up being the most reclusive, quiet church mouse they've ever met. You speak maybe 3 sentences in total at the meeting. You were quick to bat Johnny's hand away when he reached for your shoulder for a friendly pat. Feathers ruffling just slightly.
They backed off.
Simon stood quiet the whole time, eyes zeroed in on you. Assessing.
They showed you the loft to your room. Simon kept a polite distance, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed. Gaz and Johnny were waiting for Price to make the first move and let you know about the nest they had secured for you in the rec area. But when you politely and quickly excused yourself and darted inside, closing the door with the resounding click. They realized you weren't going to the nest. Nor were you going to the rec room in general.
They slept in their shared king bed. The nest left cold and barren. Tears were wiped from Gaz's eyes, sweet cooing coming from the bed as the boys sought solstice for each other.
No one dried your tears, and you stayed curled in the corner of your bed. Scared. Alone. And unsure what the future will bring.
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yangcherie · 1 year ago
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bathing.
𐀔 pairings: cast (astarion, gale, wyll, lae’zel, shadowheart, karlach, halsin) x female!tiefling!tav (reader).
𐀔 content warnings: suggestive, everybody is a little freak, non-consensual voyeurism, implied scent kink (gale), mentions of scars, afab anatomy. tiefling anatomy.
𐀔 sypnosis: what is a warrior to do when all their companions are peeping toms?
𐀔 author’s note: they are freaks and its been very long since i’ve written. please forgive a lady if what she’s written is unappealing.
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“Can you keep it – fucking quiet?!”
Astarion whisper-yells at the entire party of people hiding within bushes and treelines, all fighting tooth and nail like rabid animals for a peek (and taste) of their ragtag, frustratingly attractive leader’s curves.
They didn’t even mean to stumble into eachother, each to their own blindly traversing through the thickets of the woods towards the nearest river. Tav simply mentioned having to retire early to take a bath (much to Gale’s dismay), and they all hungrily jumped towards the opportunity like dogs to a meatless bone, the one of the hopefully many chances they’ll see you naked, vulnerable, and shivering – even if it’s only due to the lack of warmth in the river’s streams.
It’s wrong, debauched, even. Hells, even literal devils, Karlach and Wyll, wear faces ridden with shame. Of course, they (namely Astarion and Lae’zel) poked at the others stalking as if they weren’t shamelessly doing the same.
The tension in the air was thick, each a barrel on the verge of explosion ready to wipe out the recently discovered possibility of rivalries and competition – but they couldn’t blame eachother; there was just something about you that made you so very enticing. They all thought it was incredibly silly to think only one person would want you.
“Well,” Astarion clicked his tongue in displeasure, having his private time foiled. Still, he smiled sardonically. “we’re all degenerates, it seems. We’re all looking forward to having a... fun time.”
A deep rumble came, and it surprisingly did not come from the forest ground. It was simply Halsin, all too polite and calm smiles. Astarion groaned; he was sick of this big fucking oaf with hearts for eyes and a log of wood for brains. “We are not depraved for simply yearning to admire our friend in a state of tranquil—”
“Oh, please! Don’t act like a saint in front of me!” The vampire spawn huffed, hands on his hips. “We’re all here for the same reason, we all want to see Tav fucking naked, no point in lying now!”
Tints of red and pink all rushed to everyone’s faces, and even Shadowheart was reduced to fiddling with her fingers together. Though awkward coughs ensued in the air, not a single word of denial was uttered.
Karlach is first to speak up, ever brazen. “It’s true!” She says with her signature sharp smile. “I wanted to see her tits!”
(Lae’zel and Astarion nodded approvingly to Karlach’s honesty. Halsin and Gale quietly shared their sentiments on their preference to your ass. Shadowheart and Wyll could not disagree to both.)
Amidst their busy conversation and debate regarding your body’s fine qualities, the alarmingly close and approaching noises of branches snapping and leaves crunching had rendered them silent, panicked shivers and goosebumps on their skin. With shared glances and only a few split seconds to react, the party floundered and flailed for whatever they could use to stay hidden.
“Settle down, you circus; Tav’s coming!” Wyll is the first amongst the party to silently and comically dive into a bush with Karlach, clutching their tails to avoid it rustling about in excitement. Halsin had thrown Gale and Astarion atop a tree’s thick branches before joining them. Lae’zel, disappointingly, camoflauges just well with the greenery, watching Shadowheart flounder about and settle for lying on the ground with grass over her face.
“All you filthy ska'keth.” Lae’zel hisses, letting everyone know of your now visible presence, the halting of your footsteps along the other edge of the river. “Enjoy the show.”
Across the distance, their focus had been shifted to you and now solely you.
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You quietly groan, trudging towards the river you’ve been searching to no end, you set down your basket of fine oils, herbs and waxes as your armored limbs ache and practically cry for a dip in the clear stream. With no haste, you take in the cool night air, this little moment of peace, away from prying eyes you’ve fought long and hard to obtain. Sweat trickles down your throat, your tail swaying in contentment in the calm atmosphere.
Quickly deciding you’ve had enough of the crisp air, you reach towards your body to unclasp and unfasten the many buckles on your durable armor – starting with the iron top, quickly taking it off to reveal your bare, battle-worn chest and hastily discarding the metal on your legs, throwing them aside in favor of letting the cold air bite at your naked, scarred body before you go into the water; allowing your body a little moment of respite from the suffocation and heat of tight, bloody armor – even letting your tail sway around freely instead of being constricted to being stiff. A content smile creeps its way onto your face.
You lightly step your way from the sand to the edge of the water, continuing to walk until you’re trembling from the cold, until you’re hips-down in the water. A grateful sigh is pulled from your lips as you start to wade about, your hands subtly working to wash the dried blood, gore and grime off of your body and hair – using the oils and wax soaps of sweet woodruff and wine from your basket, even scrubbing your horns. A little part of you finds this normalcy almost unfamiliar, uncomfortable; it’s been quite a while you’ve taken care of yourself. Your thoughts start to drift; prior to your abduction by the Nautiloid ship, were you ever taken care of, like this? By other hands, even?
(You hope so.)
Another sigh is dragged out of you, though wearier as guilt treads within you. Just a little moment of peace, of indulgence before you go back to the dreadful task of keeping your companions and yourself alive and fighting. Just a little more time. You think you deserve it.
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A silence was washed over the forest, and the party as they all beheld you and your battle-worn body. It felt almost sacred, like doing this would have them damned to the Hells and below but it was simply too captivating. Your bodice was a web and a product of war, and they were caught mesmerized – with only the dense forest and one another to witness their quickly unravelling need for you. But even then, they felt some semblance to pity. What they wouldn’t give to the gods right now to be by your side and give you some tending to.
The ridges down your back, the swaying base of your tail, the alluring image of your hips and ass teasingly disappearing into the water below, the silhouette of your horns – that untroubled smile on your lips – they all drink it in with their eyes in a fashion similar to Astarion’s throat would with your blood.
They savor it for as long as they can, before stepping out of the trance as Gale himself not-so-quietly attempted to clamber down from the rough-bark tree he was settled in, dropping down to the dirt and crushing the leaves loudly and ungracefully. Shadowheart gaped with mortification at him from the ground, everyone wishing to every god above you would have mistaken the sound as a particularly large animal, perhaps an owlbear and not a wizard along with an entire party intruding on your privacy.
“Gale! What in the Nine Hells are you doing?!”
Astarion had settled for whisper-yelling once again, pointing at him accusingly from his position atop the tree’s branches besides Halsin. Gale waved his hand, silently telling him to shut the fuck up, before urgently pointing at your discarded armor and clothing, then proceeding to give him a big smile and two thumbs up.
Surely enough to the mortification of the party, he quickly cast Misty Step over himself to travel to your area and hastily swiped (stole) anything soft – including your unattended bandages and undergarments, taking a small moment to put it to his nose and re-casting the spell to return below the tree within a few seconds. He wallowed in his pride before with a swift motion, tucked the newly acquired materia into the pockets of his robe much to the discomfort (and mild envy) of all of them.
“A man has to do and take what he can.” Gale reasoned to nobody in particular, nodding solemnly as if he just shared a piece of wisdom. He suppressed a yelp as Lae’zel then threw a rock at him, followed by another as Astarion thwacked a small branch straight to his forehead from above.
“Just leave it.” Wyll snidely commented, fighting with his life to tear away his eyes from your moonlit form, breaking out of a trance. “We should leave, go back to camp. It’d be suspicious if everyone just disappeared.”
“Ugh, you are such a killjoy, Wyll.” Astarion rolled his eyes but complied, scaling down the tree quietly, much unlike Gale earlier, who was still fiddling around his pockets with your intimates. “A party pooper, even.”
As repulsive the idea to leave you was, it was reasonable. Begrudingly, everyone quietly sat up or climbed down and quietly attempted to find their way through the dense, dark forest, sharing little observations and hushed chitchat along the way. And soon enough, the party found themselves in familiar territory, now gathering around and settling down near the campfire like they previously had before you announced your leave, as if they didn’t just claw their way through eachother earlier to see a scrap of your vulnerability.
The fire cast a warm glow over the party as they immersed in chitchat, a few (namely Shadowheart and Astarion) pestering and even offering a bargain to Gale for the underclothes he had nicked earlier. The wizard was not deterred; fair and square, he wagged his finger as if to say nuh-uh to the seething two. It was only shortly after, that you came stumbling back into camp like a lost fawn, hair and body language calm and loose but the armor remaining stiff on your body.
Karlach coughed to let the others know you had arrived from your personal time. “Soldier! You’re back!” You greeted her with a nod, before raising a brow and sweeping your eyes amongst them. Gale swallowed, placing a protective hand over the pocket that held your garments.
“You would not believe what happened.” You sighed in utter distress before plopping yourself down besides Halsin and Astarion on the log to let the fire embrace you with warmth, piquing everyone’s interest and attention with intense ease. “A wandering owlbear ate my clothes.”
They all collectively either guffawed or choked on their spit, Lae’zel scoffing and Astarion groaning amongst them. Right. Of course, you would have thought it was a fucking owlbear. Thieving owlbears that take normal, musky clothes instead of shiny armor.
“Ah, owlbears.” Gale tutted and sighed with faux sympathy, nervously chuckling and shifting to hide the lump in his pockets. “They’d eat almost anything, really.”
Astarion shot him a bewildered look, as if to ask, don’t you? You swallowed two of my books last night!
“You can borrow my clothes, for the night.” Shadowheart butted in, suddenly slotting herself behind you and setting a reassuring palm on your shoulder. You smiled at her, gazing up at her gratefully. “Thank you, Sha—”
“Well, you can have my clothes!” Karlach and Lae’zel shot up in unison.
“Sharing your old filth, I can sew them new clothes!” Astarion argued, until everyone started refuting eachother and proposing that you take theirs and whatnot.
You sighed with exasperated fondness, immensely troubled but somewhat used to it as you watch your companions pointlessly banter, having little doubt that by the end of the night, you’d have a fair share of everyone’s wardrobe into yours.
Still, you hope to the very bottom of your heart that the “owlbear” that stole your clothes had a full tummy, at least.
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starsofang · 5 months ago
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CALL OF THE SEA / PART ONE
pirate poly!141 x f!reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, violence, death (minor characters), bits of gore, 141 are mean pirates, kidnapping
When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.
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The village was tranquil as you stepped through it, bare feet threading through the soft grass, hands wrapped around the handle of a woven basket. It was peaceful, as it always was, without the souls of townsfolk to burden you. They didn’t dare bother you with the witness of elders around, keeping any torment to themselves until nightfall when the small vendor shops had closed up for the evening and the old folk returned to their homes.
You basked in the warm summer rays that shined down on you as you walked past the various shops. Really, they were far from any real shops, only showcasing simple merchant carts with limited supply for the village to gather, but it was a small village, and everything you needed was for mere survival. You weren’t a greedy woman, and you were plenty grateful.
Stepping up to one of the merchants, you offered a polite smile to the older woman sitting behind it, bowing your head in greeting.
“Hello, Mary,” you addressed, and she perked up from where she stood, occupied with counting together the sum of coins she’d earned throughout the day. She reflected her own smile to you, standing a bit taller. A wrinkled hand lifted to brush strands of her gray hair that had blown astray in the light breeze, revealing her radiance.
“Afternoon, dove,” she greeted in return. “What’s on the agenda for today?”
“Just need a few more herbs, is all,” you shrugged, shifting your eyes away from hers to pick around her cart. Mary always had plenty on hand, and usually snuck you a few extras when you weren’t looking.
“Ah, I see. Well, you know the routine, dove. Feel free to pick as many as you need,” she encouraged. You smiled graciously, collecting a small variety of herbs and plants to place in your basket.
It was a different decision every week, seeing as you often performed trial and error with them in the comfort of your home. Despite many in your village disagreeing with your efforts, you were attempting to learn more about medicines. The village was in desperate need of a proper healer, and a female one at that. The male in current practice was much too biased and reckless, though you were sure to get a mouthful if you were to express the concern.
So, you took it upon yourself. Living in the village rather than out on the mainland, it wasn’t a simple teaching. Resources and education were much more difficult to come by, and it wasn’t deemed necessary information for women to have. It was exactly the reason why you were seen as a bit of an enigmatic outcast to all – all except Mary, of course. Perhaps she simply pitied you.
“This will be all for me, Mary,” you declared, setting the basket on top of her cart. Reaching for the small pouch that rested comfortably on your hip, you dug through it, collecting a few bronze coins and setting them in the old woman’s frail hand.
Mary accepted, placing the coins in her own pouch and throwing you a kind smile. “You sure, dove? Nothing else I can do for you?”
“I’m sure,” you confirmed with a nod. “Still in the experimentation phase, I fear.”
“You’ll get there,” she assured, clasping one of your hands between both of hers and giving it an encouraging shake before releasing. “Perhaps I’ll come visit you one of these days. An old lady like myself could use a few tweaks.”
This elicited a light laugh from you, shaking your head as you grasped the basket. “You look as healthy as a babe, Mary. But yes, please do. You know my door is always open for you.”
The two of you said your sweet farewells before you set off down the grassy trail once again. You passed the other merchants, who didn’t welcome you with the same kindness Mary had, but didn’t scare you away with shrewdness either. It was a typical routine, at this point, for others to look down on you. A woman, unwilling to marry and bear children and instead, studying medicine. A true scandal, some might say.
The walk back to your home was done so without issue, but when your humble abode came into sight, tucked away on the farther side of the village for more private practice, the faces of recognizable men came into view. This was just as frequent as the judgeful side eyes you received, but much more inconvenient.
“Afternoon, dove,” one of the men greeted with a slimy smile, the nickname the village had given you slipping off of his tongue like rotted poison. Dove, a name of something so beautiful, given out of mere pettiness. You were free like a bird, yet you should’ve been confined to your cage. Something pretty to look at, but proving no use. “Never quite got back to me about my courtship.”
Right. You had ignored it on purpose. Though deemed as strange and grotesque by the townspeople, this particular man hadn’t quite gotten the hint. Lucius was his name, fitting, seeing as he was as close to the devil as they came. Conceited and boastful with no decency of leaving you be.
He was awfully determined in wanting to fix you, to make you the housewife everybody expected you to be, just like the other village women. It was common practice, seeing as women didn’t do much other than simply that. While some were quite content with that lifestyle, you sought out more. You didn’t want to be chained down to a simple man who had nothing but arrogance to offer, nor a man you weren’t in love with.
“Yes, that’s quite right,” you confirmed dryly, stepping up to your home. He blocked the doorway, barricading you from entering.
“It’s quite rude for a lady to reject,” he interjected, a devilish smile plastered on his face. You blinked up at him with a look of indifference. “I am only asking for an answer.”
“I believe I’ve told you no plenty of times,” you sighed, adjusting the basket on your hip. “I am simply not interested.”
He sucked his teeth together, glowering down at you from where he stood. It was clear he wasn’t pleased with the answer, but unfortunately for him, it was all he was going to get. You were solid with your decision, and god forbid you did change your mind on being a wife and mother, it would not be with him.
“Can’t change your mind at all, dove?” he asked in fake sweetness, reaching for your hand that wasn’t holding the basket. He took it in his grip, much too tight for your liking. “Perhaps I can help change it if you give me one night.”
You scowled at his underlying tone, pulling your hand from his grasp and resting it on the knob of your door. You pushed it open, stepping inside before turning to him. “Please do not humor me with such indications. I am not interested, nor will I change my mind.”
Abruptly closing the door on him, you settled inside of your home, breathing a low sigh of relief. You could hear his faint chuckles with the other men present, their footsteps soft against the grass as they took their leave. He never took things too far, such as forcing his way into your home or worse, forcing himself on you, but you feared that day may come the longer you rejected his advances.
You set your basket on your desk, slouching down in the old chair you’d spend days upon days occupied in. Your journal sat open with ink scattered on the pages in your scribbled handwriting, brief sketches drawn about of the varying herbs you worked tirelessly on. Above you, jars lined the shelves with fading labels, filled with makeshift medicines of all kinds.
With the village and its people now out of sight and out of mind, you resumed your studies with the fresh herbs, focusing on what your heart truly desired.
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You don’t remember falling asleep. It had been hours of you with a pen in your hand, jotting down useful notes for your studies, and it was no surprise you had succumbed to exhaustion at the comfort of your desk. Your cot in the corner of the room was more a stranger than anything, but with the sight of moonlight still pouring in through your small windows, you debated on moving over to it so you could resume.
Standing from your desk, you rubbed the sleepiness crusting over your eyes, a yawn threatening to tug through your throat. Just as you began your short trek to your bed, a slight tinge of orange caught your eye, peeking in through your window. It was faint, barely knowledgeable.
Curiosity got the best of you, and through your hazy state, you tugged open the front door of your small cottage, daring to see what was outside. The orange grew brighter in view now that the door opening had allowed more light to pool in, and when you rubbed at your eyes once more, you recognized it as fire.
Fire, burning fiercely in the night, eating away at your village. The sounds of terrified screams and chaotic madness became abundantly clear when you stepped outside. It made your blood run cold. All hairs on your body stood straight in warning, beckoning you to return inside, to hide.
As much as you wanted to listen, the first thing to vacate your mind was Mary. In the brush of flames, you needed to know if she was alright, if she had gotten to safety before the angry fire had broken into her own home. Where most of the townsfolk treated you as a mere joke, Mary was the one who had given you kindness when needed.
Your feet moved in a rush to sprint towards the village, the grass damp from the midnight dew and sticking to your soles. The closer you came towards the heart of the village, the louder things grew. It was blood-curling, hearing booming voices bark various orders while others shouted in petrified fear. Mary’s house was on the other side of the village, and in an act of triumph, you aimed for it.
The heat of the flames became more apparent as you closed in on the town center. Townsfolk that you had grown with since a baby were in a frenzy, some bloodied, some weeping. They looked like they had gone through the pits of hell and crawled their way out, only to be inches away from being dragged back in again.
There was no explanation for why the men of your village were wearing the crimson color of fresh blood, or why some were laying in broken heaps on the ground. They were in agony, shrieking in deafening decibels. The healer in you wanted to stop everything you were doing to aid them, but the child in you wanted to reach Mary first.
You did what your heart wanted and ran for Mary.
Approaching her house, the flames had not yet approached. It wasn’t burned to ash, nor was it in shambles. Instead, one large man had Mary in their hold by each of her arms as she attempted to fight him off while another ransacked her home.
“Mary!” you shouted, helpless. The man’s head whipped in the direction of your voice, cruel eyes narrowing in on you. Mary joined him, fearful eyes catching yours.
The sight of the men was foreign to you, but you’d recognize heartless monsters such as them anywhere. They were mere stories shared between the village, often used to scare the children away from the sea for their own protection. The village was so small, nobody had ever worried about the stories happening to them.
Pirates. Cruel, greedy, malicious. Like dogs off a leash, bearing sharp teeth and frothing at the mouth. They raided innocent villages for their supply, leaving it in disarray once they got what they wanted. Sick bastards who deserved punishment, yet slipped away in the roaring waves of the sea before it could be handed to them.
“Let go of her,” you pleaded with the pirate, hands clasped together. You knew you couldn’t fight him off, even if you tried. Mary was just as powerless as you, and old age was starting to catch up to her. She was fragile, and with the way he was handling her, you feared she’d get harmed.
The mysterious pirate continued to stare at you with an unreadable expression. He grunted in annoyance, loosening his grip on Mary but not quite releasing. It did nothing to comfort you, and that feeling grew tenfold when the other pirate stepped out of Mary’s home, locking in on you.
“Grab tha’ one, will ye, Gaz?” the one holding Mary huffed, gesturing towards you with a nod of his head. The other, Gaz, nodded in return, sauntering up to you like death on wheels. You needed to run, to escape, but he was too quick. Before you knew it, Gaz’s arms had wrapped around your waist, hauling you over his shoulder like a doll.
Flailing in his embrace did nothing. His grip was firm, arm locked on to you impossibly tight, and the punches you threw to his back seemed almost comical to him.
“Find anythin’?” the other asked Gaz. Gaz shook his head, releasing a frustrated exhale.
As chaos ensued around you, the two men began dragging you and Mary along towards the heart of the village where you were moments ago. Gaz’s grip loosened on you, before he dropped you to the damp ground carelessly. You landed with a huff, soreness soaring through your back.
Looking around, you realized that many of the townsfolk were in the same condition. Lined up besides one another, pleading for their lives, weeping with ugly snot running from their noses. Mary was beside you, shaken but unharmed from the looks of it. She stared at you with heart wrenching fright, and you wished you could’ve told her things would be okay.
But they weren’t. The village was set ablaze, its people lined up like prisoners with a group of pirates looming over them like reapers prepared for death. The peace from this afternoon had vanished, and there would be no return. Things would be forever different, if they spared your lives.
Gaz and the other pirate stood side by side as they looked over the townsfolk. Another was beside them, face distorted by a ghastly mask that resembled a skull. It sent shivers down your spine. It was as if you truly were looking death in the eye.
A fourth pirate stepped forward, eyes that should’ve been considered kind instead staring down every last villager with heated observation. He was silent as he paced slowly, hands behind his back, the fire casting a doomful glow upon his face.
“My name is Captain Price,” he introduced. His voice was booming with authority. “If you do not wish to aid us, then we do not wish to aid you. The choice is yours.”
Sweat beaded your hairline from both the flames of fire scorching around you, and the anxiety that spiked inside of you. Your eyes locked in on the Captain, watching his every movement, noting the way he stood tall and proud, showcasing the true power he held. The villagers and you were helpless against him and his crew, and he was ensuring that it was obvious.
“We seek a medic. If you cannot provide that to us, then you are of no use to me,” he explained, pausing his pacing. He took in the sight of every grim face. Once he landed on you, you shivered, looking away in a panic. “I will ask you once. Who is your medic?”
Deafening silence filled the air apart from the flickering flames that threatened to consume us whole. Nobody dared to speak a word, nor did they look away from Price. It was as if time had stopped and everybody froze.
Price sniffed, glancing around the villagers. Though he seemed collected in his behavior, you could recognize the impatience from the way his lip twitched and his shoulders tensed.
“The Captain asked you lot a question,” Gaz sneered in defense. Price spared him a glance before returning focus. Still, nobody spoke for the next few moments.
It wasn’t until Price’s hand drifted to his waist, hand coming to rest on a handgun that the air shifted into one of unease. The sight of it made you sick to the stomach. Handguns were a specialty only the wealthy or military could acquire. They were rare and expensive, a luxury to some, but deadly. One click, and your soul was taken right from your body.
Price grasped the handgun, holding it in his hand as if it were a toy. He stepped up to the line of villagers, peering down at them like useless pigs. The sight of the gun had women quivering in fear, tears streaming down their rosy cheeks. The men were men no more, stripped away of their masculinity and replaced with little boys, unable to protect their kin and fulfill their duty as defenders.
The gun was raised, threat building with every inch. The barrel pointed right at the horror-stricken face of the very man who intruded on your home earlier – Lucius. Gone was the cocky mockery of a man, replaced with a whimpering boy who feared death just as much as another. He was shaking, shoulders slouched in attempts to appear small.
“We will try this again,” Price demanded. The cold barrel pressed to the temple of Lucius’ head and you could do nothing but sit and watch, unsure of what to feel. Sure, he kept a sour taste in your mouth simply from being. But to wish death on him for being a hindrance was distasteful. “Who is your medic?”
Lucius wouldn’t possibly rat you out. He was a selfish man who took what he wanted, but surely, he wouldn’t. He wasn’t that cruel.
The coward’s shaky hand lifted to point in your direction. It felt as if he were throwing a sharp dagger at you, the way he exposed the occupation you’d been so meticulously working hard towards.
Eyes shifted towards you, sending an ice cold burst through your veins. They were prodding, dissecting you from head to toe as if you were an experiment for them to test on. It was unsettling, sinking your heart down to the pits of your stomach.
“You’re the medic?” Price questioned. He hadn’t lowered his weapon, keeping it firm against Lucius’ skull, but his attention had shifted to you. His eyes weren’t warm and kind like they were shaped out to be, but rather cold, glossed over with hardened hostility.
“I–” You swallowed. “I am merely a medic in practice. I am not a professional, I do not know proper teachings–”
“Ghost,” he interrupted, whipping his head to look at the masked man. Ghost was a brute of a man, a shadow that would’ve been consumed by the night if not for the illuminating glow coming from the village in flames. “Take her so she can gather her things. She’s coming with us.”
Dread struck you right to the core. You wanted to beg for them to leave you be, to explain that you weren’t what they wanted. You didn’t want to be stripped from your home and tossed onto a ship with no clue of where your next destination was. These men were dangerous, seeping pure rancor and poisoning the very ground you laid on. Leaving with them was a death sentence.
Ghost said nothing, and even if he did, you wouldn’t have been able to hear it from the subtle weeping from villagers beside you. His strides were long as he approached you, and without warning, his rough hand grasped your elbow, hauling you to your feet. The force startled you, throwing you off balance but his grip was tight enough to keep you grounded.
As you were dragged away towards the direction of your home, you could hear an uproar of cries. Terror struck the village once more and you could do nothing but accept fate for what it was. You wanted to turn your head to see what was becoming of your people, but you were scared. Scared of what you may see, scared of what Ghost will do if you look.
You kept your gaze forward, legs moving quickly to match the heavy pace of Ghost, guiding the lion into your den.
Arriving at your home, you were hit with the realization that it would be the last time entering it. Your hard work would vanish, the space you made into your security blanket would be destroyed, burned to ash once the flames settled. It tore your heart to bits.
“Hurry up,” Ghost gruffed, his voice gravelly and hoarse. Just like Price, it was assertive, leaving no room for discussion.
You made haste to pack your essentials into a flimsy satchel. It wouldn’t be able to fit much, and you could only pray they would at least provide you with bare necessities on your voyage to hell. In your satchel went your journal, the cluttered jars of experimental medicines, your favorite quill, and a daring change of clothes. If Ghost thought you to remain alive long enough to have the opportunity to redress, he didn’t express it.
“That all?” he huffed, and when you nodded, he seized your arm again. “Let’s go.”
The sight of your home became a distant memory the farther you went from it. Already your body was pleading to go back, to curl up in bed and pretend that all of this was a sick dream. You regretted not making your cot of more use, sleeping in that damned wooden chair instead.
By the time you arrived back at the town center, it was like witnessing purgatory itself. Bloodshed with the bodies of your people laid across the ground like animals tossed aside. Useless and unworthy, that was how these pirates treated them. Though your people had never been kind to you, this was a fate you would never have wished upon them.
Their faces were unrecognizable as you took them in. Some burned, some beaten so bloody their faces had swelled into ugly monsters, some slain. The sight of the deceased made you want to vomit, bile piling in your throat and threatening to expel out.
Your eyes frantically searched for Mary, aching to know if they had given her mercy. She was a frail woman, withering with her age. She was innocent.
You couldn’t find her familiar face, and you weren’t sure whether to feel relieved or dreadful.
The three other pirates were standing around one another. They were unphased by the actions they had bestowed upon the village, as if it was another simple day. It unnerved you, rattling your bones with burrowing fear. When they noticed the return of you and their crewmate, they wasted no time in guiding you off to the small port in which their ship had been docked.
It was large, wood tainted with brown so dark it could’ve been black. It blended in with the abyss of the sea, which you realized was entirely the point. Unnoticed and concealed.
Ghost didn’t let go of you as he helped you on to the ship, nor did he release once your bare feet connected with the wood. It was just as restricting as before, causing a light pulse to form in your bicep where he held you.
“Take her to the chambers until we figure out the next step,” Price ordered Ghost, nodding his head in the direction of raggedy doors. You could only imagine what lies behind them, waiting for you.
Ghost grunted in response, tugging you with him and having you stumble on your own two feet. The wood was rough and sharp on your soles, slicing tiny splinters into your skin. Shoes weren’t needed in your village unless it was winter, and even then, the grass was always enough to consume them in warmth. Now, you were regretting not owning a pair.
“In you go,” Ghost uttered once he had the door pulled open, shoving you down a small flight of stairs towards the lower section of the ship. It was dingy and unlit, the only light seeping in being the moonlight from a tiny window.
Once inside, you recognized your new home as a cell. Barred and caged in, being tossed inside carelessly. There was nothing but a cot and a bucket to relieve yourself. It was completely empty and void of comfort.
Ghost shut the cell door, locking it with an annoyed grunt. You hadn’t even noticed him pull out the set of keys to open it for you, nor had you noticed when he locked you in. You watched as he thrusted the keys in his back pocket, the only evidence of its presence being the small glint of metal from the moon’s light.
“Wait!” you cried out when he turned to leave. You scrambled on the cell floor, hands wrapping around the cold bars. He paused his walk, throwing you a look of disinterest. “You can’t just leave me in here!”
Ghost snorted in what you dared to say amusement. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, princess. You’ll be of use soon enough.”
Ignoring your pleas, he stepped up the stairs and returned to the main deck, shutting the door and leaving you utterly alone. Silence filled the air apart from the calming waves of the sea, though it did nothing to soothe you. You were helpless, deprived of any form of escape.
You spent what felt like hours on the floor of your cell, weeping into your own hands, silently praying to a God to release you. When nobody came to your rescue, you knew it was far too late for a miracle. This would be your new life, your new home, for as long as they kept you alive.
Part of you wished they would’ve just killed you instead.
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