#Wip chapter 1

[the-inkwell-variable]

𝔉𝔯𝔬𝔪 ℭ𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔳𝔞𝔩 𝔱𝔬 ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔪𝔬𝔪𝔦𝔩𝔢

Chapter 1

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ --- ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ ɪꜱ ꜰɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ᴅᴏɴᴇ! ɪ'ᴠᴇ ᴡʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴏʀᴅᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ɴᴏ ᴏɴᴇ'ꜱ ꜱᴜʀᴘʀɪꜱᴇ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜱʜᴏᴡꜱ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇɴᴅʀʏᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴍᴀʀᴀ'ꜱ ʟɪꜰᴇ ɪꜱ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀʀɴɪᴠᴀʟ, ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ɴᴇᴡ ᴀᴄᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙɪɢ ᴛᴏᴘ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ʙɪɢ ᴍᴀɴ ᴛᴏ ɪᴍᴘʀᴇꜱꜱ! ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴄᴀʀɴɪᴠᴀʟ ᴛᴏ ᴄʜᴀᴍᴏᴍɪʟᴇ!

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ - - - ᴘᴍ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴀᴅᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴀɢ ʟɪꜱᴛ!

p r e v i o u s . c h a p t e r | n e x t . c h a p t e r

"Wasn't that fantastic, folks? Let's give it up for the flying Twins, Jada and Jaden!"

The thunderous applause did nothing to ease the throbbing in Amara's temples. She patiently smacked away the hand of the preening elf that wouldn't stop fiddling with her costume. "Relax, Vaeri. You're rubbing all the glitter off."

Vaeri took a step back, flapping her hands anxiously. "Sorry, sorry! I just want everything to be perfect!"

"This is Carnival la Poirier. I think 'acceptable' is the best we can hope for."

Vaeri blanched.

Amara shook her head and patted the elf's arm. "Nothing is going to happen. The dress is perfect. It's not going to fall off, I promise."

Vaeri wrung her hands. "But what if your…pets…rip it open? Or the skirt catches on the platform? Or, gods forbid, a seam rips? Then it'll be my fault the act fails and Mr. Poirier will fire me and I'll have to go back to Boltangate to that awful seamstress and-"

"Vaeri!"

The elf froze midsentence, her pupils pinpricks in her violet eyes.

Amara clasped her cheeks in her hands. "Re. Lax," she commanded. "You're working yourself up over nothing. This is the finest dress I've ever worn. Besides, Luc would never have hired you if he didn't have every confidence that you produce quality goods."

Vaeri didn't need to know that this was a flat-out lie. Judging by the smile that spread across her face, she didn't. "You mean it?"

"Absolutely," Amara replied with a smile of her own. "Now shoo. Go watch your masterpiece from the stands. You'll get a better view that way."

She sighed as Vaeri scampered off, letting the smile slip from her face. Was now the time to admit that she was nervous too? Luc didn't take very kindly to people upstaging him, and her new act had the potential to do just that. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves, but that only made her heart pound faster.

"When did you sign up to be the carnival morale booster?"

Amara turned to face her brother, wrinkling her nose. "You stink."

Hendryk grinned and threw his arms open wide. "Aw, you don't want a good luck hug from your favorite brother?"

She laughed and ducked away from his wriggling fingers. "Get away from me, you disgusting peasant!"

Just as he was about to grab her in his smelly arms, Goknar poked his head around the big top curtain. "If you could be so kind as to tear yourself from your brother's arms," he said dryly, "you're up next."

Amara shoved Hendryk away and dusted herself off. "I'm coming," she told the hobgoblin, ignoring Hendryk's grumbles from behind her. Goknar nodded and led her to stage left, just in time for Silva the Swan to exit. "Good luck," whispered the naiad in passing. Amara had only enough time to nod her thanks before the announcer raised his voice again.

"Aaand next up, we have a real treat for you fine folks! She'll bewitch you with her wondrous visions! Please welcome to the big top - Amara the Incredible Illusionist!"

She sashayed out to the center of the sandy floor to thunderous applause. At least she wasn't an early act that had to perform to awkward silence - small graces. She struck a graceful ballet pose as the magical spotlights shined on her and a suspenseful hush fell over the audience.

A slow, almost mournful tune began to play, echoing throughout the rafters of the big top. Amara raised her hands, clasped in prayer, toward the ceiling as sparkling snowflakes fluttered down. She twisted her hands in a complicated gesture, a dance of fingers. Her skirt and bell sleeves flowed in a wind no one could feel. With a flutter of her fingers, she slammed her palm toward the ground.

A burst of sparks and smoke erupted from the sand. Applause erupted again the sizzling lights faded to reveal a pair of shimmering tigers locked in an intricate waltz. The music raises to a lively jig. The tigers sped up into a Hartley two-step. After several beats, the music changed again, and the dance along with it. The crowd went wild.

But Amara wasn't done. She raised her hand to the ceiling again, the spotlight following. . The tightrope now held an opaque elephant balancing a unicycle on the rope, a tiny banjo in its front feet. It played a jaunty tune that had the audience clapping along in delight - and of course, the tigers danced along.

The best things come in threes. Amara spun around und threw her hands into the air. Sparkles exploded in the air, and when they faded, faeries flooded the room. They danced in the air, forming glittering images. At first, the images were simple - a bunny rabbit hopping around, a pair of birds flitting about a willow tree, a squirrel chasing a runaway nut. The children in the audience cheered the loudest.

But Amara was never satisfied with simple, not when she was capable of so much more. Throwing caution and her fear of Luc's jealousy to the wind, she increased the flow of magic to the faeries. The result was instantaneous - the next image was of a Baerth flying whale swimming over the audience with a pair of winged dolphins.

As the whale shifted into a herd of gallopping unicorns, Amara caught a glimpse of Hendryk in the wings. He flicked the side of his hand over his throat, the universal sign to wrap it up. Sne decided, against the warning bells in the back of her mind, to go out with a bang. With a roar that startled even her, the unicorns became a beautiful crimson dragon that spewed a gust of sparkling orange flames over the audience - they screamed with fear and delight.

The dragon exploded into illusory glitter that rained over the crowd. As they erupted with final applause, Amara staggered into the wings. Her legs shook so badly that she was simply glad that she collapsed behind the curtain instead of before it.

Hendryk didn't pull her to her feet. Instead, he knelt beside her, rubbing the space between her shoulders. "How do you feel?"

"I feel like I need a nap and a steak dinner." That was an understatement. Her hands were numb from the amount of magic she'd pumped through them in such a short amount of time. Every inch of her skin tingled as her body worked overtime to regenerate her spent mana. Forget moving - it took a concentrated effort just to speak.

Hendryk chuckled and scooped her into his arms bridal-style. "Well, the crowd seems to think you did fine... but we know whose opinion really matters. Think you have what it takes to be the new headliner?"

"Maybe." Hopefully not, if she was being honest. She absolutely could not handle repeating this every night. Once a week was already a big maybe. Not that it really mattered - there was not a chance that Luc was going to let her supercede him as top act of the carnival. As fond of her as he was, having practically raised her after saving her and Hendryk from the swamps, he was still top dog at Carnival la Peirior. After all, it had his name on it.

"Well, well, aren't you full of surprises." Hendryk stiffened as, speak of the fiend, Luc Peirior appeared around the corner. He adjusted the gold cufflinks on his navy suit, pinstriped with matching gold stitches. "I always knew you were a quick hand with illusions, but goodness me, that was something else."

"Thank you, Luc." Were her lips supposed to be numb?

There was something almost sinister about the dragonkin's toothy smile. She tried not to take it personally - it was the same smile he always wore. "I need to take the stage. Go get some rest. We'll discuss your future at the carnival another time. Things are looking up for you, Miss Voren."

It was only after he disappeared through the curtain that Hendryk relaxed. He grinned at Amara. "Sounds like good news to me. Ready for a snack?"

"I could eat an entire mammoth."

[faededaway]

“To let go, is harder than anything else” Original multi chapter fic. Chapter 1. (2k words)

Trigger warnings [religious themes, religious trauma, death of relative, bad childhood, mention of anxiety, unemployment, smoking] [gen theme: discomfort, introductory] [gender neutral mc x male s/o]

Jes's life hadn't been easy but it hadn't been hard enough for them to complain about it. They always found themselves at a position better than their neighbor. 

And relatively, I am blessed. Relatively, I am God's favorite. 

These are the words Jes lived by. Perhaps, it was influenced by Jes's mother who would say the same thing when facing the many relatively difficult things from the past: her husband, the church that shunned her, her overbearing in laws, and her even worse father. 

Compared to someone somewhere, she was always doing well. That kept her going, and in turn kept Jes alive. Did it give Jes a crippling inability to function normally in the face of any and every crisis? Jes is yet to learn the answer. 

Being fired from their fifth job this year, Jes left their last shift with a smile. They wouldn't be able to pay rent this month and they would have to starve here and there to pay the utility bill. At least, they had a bed and a clean shower to go home to. 

It is not like Jes did not see it coming. Every horror in Jes's mother's life followed them (including the in-laws, only Jes is blessed enough to be able to call them ex-in-laws). Jes may not have a church group trying to straighten their path, they had something better. A clique from their old middle school who enjoyed playing with Jes's life. Unlike the church group, they never attempted to burn Jes alive for being a devil incarnate. They just used their connections to get Jes fired from every job they got. It was Jes's fault for not being able to make good connections. 

“You should move, Jasmine. Get out of that shit hole”, their brother begged them on the phone when they heard about what the clique did again. 

“I can't leave mother's grave behind, Juth! Can you please stop suggesting that?", there was another thing Jes wanted to ask him to stop but it wasn't the pressing issue. 

“You! Agh. You-, okay,” he took a calming breath before he continued, “why don't you come to see me? I'll pay for the trip to mine. You can eat and sleep and take your time to figure out what to do.”

Juth was the older one of the two. He made his run when mother prayed for a way out. He lives the life mother wishes she did. Happy and blessed and happy. A loving spouse, no children, a car and an apartment in a well maintained complex where the sun lights the rooms for as long as it shows its face in the sky. 

Juth ran because he thought mother would follow. Unbeknownst to him, mother had forgotten herself beyond the pains inflicted upon her. She did not want to leave any if it, any of herself, and go anywhere. 

On her deathbed she said, “Juth, my child, I will die happy knowing you have a home,” Jes had left the room before they could hear mother say, “take Jes with you. Take them with you. If my children can see the light, I will know God did see me. God saw my patience and resilience and He rewarded me by blessing my children.” 

By the time Jes came into the room, mother had been breathing her last. She called her children's names one last time before calling God's name till her end. At least, she had died in a room with the two people that loved her and the two people she loved. 

Jes thought about mother. She was always happy to visit Juth. “Okay. I'll come by next we-”

“Today. Come by today! I'll arrange it for you. I'll handle all of it. The guest room's always ready anyway”, he pleaded. 

Jes hadn't left town after mother was buried. By now, ‘next week’ had become another word for ‘no’.

“i need to... My stuff, and my cat, there's some stuff and I don't know. Trains? Planes are kind of... Are cats allowed on trains?”, a last attempt at declining the invite was made. It was more of a plea at this point. One that Jes didn't feel bad about turning down over and over. But, if he spent his hard earned money on a ticket, guilt would make Jes go and Juth knew that. 

“Yes! Cats are allowed on trains. On planes, too! I will buy you and your cat a ticket. I'm on the website right now. There is a fli-” Jes held back from screaming by biting their tongue. 

“No! No. No trains or planes. Just, too many people and Kafka is a nervous cat. I don't want to put him in a basket for so long.” Kafka had multiple personalities that Jes introduced as per the situation called for. 

Juth didn't hesitate even for a second before changing the plan, “okay! A friend had been in town for a family business. He was scheduled to leave today. You could come with him! He has his own car. An old Cadillac, if I'm not wrong. Kafka would have plenty of space there!”

Jes's head spun. They thought back to mother's life to think of any situation where mother had dealt with something similar. God has his reasons. Trust in God. Is what mother would say if faced with something unavoidable. 

“You trust this strange man to.. be in a car with me?”, Jes lay on the floor of her childhood home (the one father lost as collateral for debt he couldn't repay. And Jes decided to buy back without telling Juth). The bare wood floors provided no comfort and the smell of humid mold gave them a headache. But it smelled like home. Home Jes was terrified to leave, like mother was. 

“Jasm-, Jes, I trust him to drive you to me safely. I can vouch for him. He's Hera's cousin. You might remember him from our wedding. You even spoke for a bit! About a game or something. Animal parking?” Jes heard their brother's smile through the phone. He was winning this. They both knew it. 

Jes did remember such a man from their brother's wedding. A tall, lanky man who wore gothic makeup and gothic formal wear (funeral formal) to the wedding. He had sat at the table Jes was stowing at to take out his handheld console and celebrate an Raymond's birthday in Animal Crossing. 

They hadn't spoken. Not really. Jes had peaked at his game. He had scooched closer and showed his screen. They had celebrated Raymond's birthday together. After, he had gone back to pretending to be a pole as the kids ran circles around him. 

Jes did not distrust him. “Arman.”

“Yes! Arman. You even remember his name. Okay, yes! He said he will be leaving today. He wants your address. He said he'll pick you up if you're on the way.” Jes's heart rate picked up. Juth couldn't know Jes lived in their childhood home. 

“Uh, no. Tell him to.. to wait by the lake park. And don't-”

“I gave him your number. He'll call you.”

“-give him my number.”

Jes's 'unable to answer phonecalls' was a new problem Juth did not know of, seeing how the call with their brother showed no signs of that problem. 

“Huh? Did you say something?”, Jes recalled the other reasons for not seeing their brother. Jes had at least five more problems he did not know of that Jes would be unable to hide in person. 

“No. I didn't say anything. Just, need to go and pack my stuff,” Jes curled into themselves and held out a hand towards the wall of their home. Paint chipped and fell into their palm immediately, but they kept their hand on the cold wall. 

“Oh, right. Okay!”, the line was quiet for a beat before Juth took another deep breath, “I know I said I trust Arman, but if he makes you the slightest bit uncomfortable, do what you have to do okay? Hit him, pepper spray him, run, do whatever. And call me. I will rush over.”

Oh Juth. 

Tears brimmed Jes's eyes. Their only living family cared so much for them even though Jes did everything to turn them away.

“Mmm. Yeah, I know. I-, I have you on speed dial.”

A relieved laugh sounded om the other end. 

Jes ran their hand over the peeling, chipping paint as the siblings said their goodbyes. They would have to say goodbye to this home too, for a short while. The thought of it filled them with anxiety that churned their stomach and formed a knot in their chest. 

Time moved slowly. They felt every second pass by. It felt as if these were the last seconds they would ever feel in this house. It felt like a blessing from God before the 6 P.M. call came in. 

Jes let their phone ring long enough for the call to end. They packed up their things and kisses every wall in the house and opened every door in the house except the backdoor and front door. Then, the front doorbell rang. 

Kafka meowed excitedly and trotted to greet the visitor at the door. Jes hadn't been able to locate Kafka before that. Kafka's real quirk was that it loved everyone but Jes. 

“Kafka, you meanie! I feed you and clean up after you!”, Jes ran after Kafka like the front door would open magically and the housecat would ran out naively. 

Kafka meowed louder as they got closer to the door. Jes was able to grab him before he scratched the door. 

Jes peaked through the peephole and saw a stranger standing outside her door. Though something about the person's stance looked familiar. 

“Who is it?”, Jes called out to the person on the other side. 

“Disappointment.” The person on the other side pulled out a cigarette from their pocket and lit it with a Zippo lighter. 

As Jes tried to think of a response, the person on the other end smoked half the cigarette before saying, “It's Arman. And I'm about to call your brother and tell him you're living in your crumbling wooden excuse of a trauma house.”

The shock of being caught made Jes yank the door open, “don't tell him!”

Arman stomped his finished cigarette butt on the cracked pavement before walking back to his Cadillac parked on the grass of Jes's home. The disrespect made Jes's blood boil. “You parked here?!”

Arman looked at Jes and put his phone to his ear, “Juth you won't believe where I found your sister!”

“Okay! Okay! I got it!”, only seconds in, and they already had conflict between them. Kafka squiggled out of their grasp and leaped into Arman's arms. 

Jes hurried to put their luggage into the car while Arman sat in the car with Kafka sleeping on his lap. 

After ten minutes, the front door was locked and it's key was tucked in the innermost pocket of Jes's luggage and the luggage was packed into the trunk like perfect Tetris rows. 

Arman started the car and rolled down the windows as he said, “hope you said your goodbyes and got everything. Once the car starts, I will not turn back no matter what you say.”

Jes glared at him but said nothing as they felt a pang in their chest. The fear of this being the last time seeing the house was growing bigger. Jes shook their head and comforted their racing heart, “I'll be back in 2 days.”

Arman scoffed but did not comment. 

Thus began their long drive to the town of Sroasie. 

[zico-if]

This story is not one, where at the end, you find yourself surrounded by your loved ones. No, this is a one of how you die.

[ DEMO - tba ]

Ever since the death of your parents by those who'd been sworn to protect you, there has been something inexplicably wrong with you.

At first, they were just headaches—small manageable aches, even at their worst. But then came the voice. A voice that wasn't yours, whispering things you couldn't possibly know, helping you do things no one should be able to do.

Everything about you was just...wrong.

But then you were saved, taken in by people who gave you shelter and taught you control. And over time, that voice became nothing more than a whisper, offering you insights when you least expect it.

You became a scalpel in their organization, an invaluable asset who cut away whatever rot they pointed you to, and you did so without question.

That is, until one day a job lands you in hot water and the next thing you know, you're told to cut the rot that lies a little too close to the heart. Suddenly, the truth becomes lies, friends turn to foes, and the fine line between loyalty and betrayal begins to blur.

That begs the question: just how far are you willing to go to cut out that rot before it spreads?

Become a vessel for an Eldritch that grants you abilities like no other, yet endure the consequences that follows it.

Customise your vessel, including their pronouns, identity and physical appearance.

Romance 1 of 4 options: the rot, the grace, the protector or the stranger.

Confront old friends, create new foes, run some errands and try not to die while doing any of it.

Pluck at the fraying strands of your mind. Teeter to the edge of Insanity.

Trust that no one is who they say they are.

And most importantly: Abandon All Hope.

The Rot: Ilya Roson [m/f/nb] - romanceable by all MCs.

A person who you've long since thought was gone. They've betrayed you once and they've come to do it again. Then again, betrayal requires trust in the first place and you've since learned your lesson from the first time.

The Grace: Vira Duval [f] - romanceable by nb!MCs and f!MCs only.

She is beauty, she is grace, yet monstrous all the same. There is something about her that strikes you: the scars that creep from beneath her neck line, the cold calculation in her eyes. She is more than the Blueblood you think she is.

The Protector: Aurius Duval [m] - romanceable by all MCs.

A scion of everything you've come to hate, he dares to call himself a protector—a shield to the people above all else. While he is kind and polite, you can't help but see the blood that he carries on his hands...even though you carry more on yours.

The Stranger: Rhian Scott [m/f/nb] - romanceable by all MCs.

They are the trouble that follows you, the herald of misfortune. Why is it that every time they're near, something always goes wrong? Is it the charm, leeching all the luck you have to fuel it? Or is it maybe that they are just not the friend they claim to be?

The Night Abridged is rated 18+ for violence, strong language, blood & gore, sexual content and more.

Hello, my lovelies. Here is a new intro post for the remake of The Night Abridged, reblogs are much appreciated :)

[dragonsbluee]

So I've recently been re-reading TCF And chapter 196 is such an excellent example of how Cale interacts with the people around him, how he views himself and how they view him. This is also at the point in the novel where he hasn't really accepted that he is Cale now, not KRS, because he doesn't feel like he can.

So anyway, we start the chapter seeing the people of Rain City react to Cale's shield and they say something important!

"Won't he faint is he uses such a large shield? Why doesn't he just activate it when the northern bastards come?" "Can't you tell? He doesn't want to see us or the territory getting hurt at all."

At first, I thought this was just the regular drama of people reacting to Cale, but then Choi Han, the kids, and Ron tell him he's being ridiculous, and I realize the townsfolk are right.

The Wyvern Battle is only the 2nd or 3rd major battle Cale has been in so far but only as Cale. As KRS, he's done this before, and having read later chapters, we know Cale holds so much guilt over those battles and how he wanted to keep those he cared for away from it all but couldn't. After all, record only gives him information to guide them and make plans; he often couldn't physically protect them. How many times has he defended a shelter or teammates and wished he could have just covered them all with a shield instead of giving commands from the back? We know how guilty he feels over Choi Jung Soo and Lee Soo Hyuk's deaths.

He knows he doesn't have to keep it up, and he's the one who spreads a rumour that it's taking all of his energy, but he's already considering himself a "bad person" for taking military command and only giving orders. (except that's what it means to take military command?) There is absolutely another motive for keeping the shield around the city. Cale wants the opposing forces to view him as weakened, or he doesn't want people to think his power is as strong as it is. However, at the same time, he's absolutely protecting them because, just like the townsperson says, he doesn't want to see any of them get hurt by an attack he could have blocked.

Cale is doing what he can to undermine himself while claiming he's going to make everyone else the hero of this battle, but he won't drop the shield, which means no one can disregard or forget his involvement. It's not intentional! He's just literally made himself the first line of defense as a direct parallel to every time he was the last line as KRS. He wants to stay at the back, he does not plan to get involved unless he has to, but Cale won't let himself stay out of it. So the shield goes up and stays for multiple days.

Meanwhile, all Choi Han, Ron and the kids see is Cale surrounded by paperwork (because taking command of the entire Northeast is a lot of work), keeping a shield up that's known to make him cough up blood (they don't know about it getting stronger or the vitality of heart), and only sleeping 1 to 2 hours a night (thank you crybaby), so they assume it's a combination of work and concentration to keep the shield up. As usual, they're worried and frustrated at Cale's self-sacrificing tendencies.

We haven't even gotten to the actual battle yet, but this is such a great setup of how it's going to go and how the novel goes.

[transformers-synergize]

transformers synergized sneak peak

page 13, no context

[circuit-if]

and... we are live!

it's been a long time coming! finally our first part (of 2!) of chapter 1 is here and is ready to be played. I hope you're all ready to meet some new iconic little characters of mine, reunite with old friends, and get a little taste of what's to come. hopefully you enjoy this one! ⭑⭑⭑

once again, please please please let me know in my askbox if you pick up on any bugs at all. for now, i'm a one person team and it's tough to go through each and every possible route to check if it's all bug free.

🔗 - DEMO // PROMO

[tadc-harlequin-au]

Chapter 1 is officially on the way >:3c

The prologue will be posted soon, on ao3!

[skyrim-forever]

WIP Wednesday

Hello everyone it’s another Wednesday ✨ Thanks for the tag @hircines-hunter loved seeing blorbo children and I’m also bringing blorbo children 🥰

Tagging: @lucien-lachance @dirty-bosmer (know you’re v busy so tagging you so you can have a laugh 🤭) @firefly-factory @pocket-vvardvark @ladytanithia @umbracirrus

@bougainvillea-and-saltwater @captain-of-silvenar @changelingsandothernonsense @thequeenofthewinter @scholarlyhermit (if you’d like to join in ☺️)

This week I’m working on finishing the second part of a fic I put out in November called You Didn’t Say Your Parents Were… in which Theodora’s daughter brings home her new boyfriend from the CoW to meet her family. This snippet is over dinner while Theo is sharing some of her Skyrim stories, particularly how she wound up in Cidhna Mine and her eldest is being a bit of a shit disturber 😛

“Oddly comforting to hear Markarth has not changed.” Theodora and Ondolemar share a knowing look before he leaves the room.

“Some things never change, love.” Looking back at him, she provides the truth. “The first time I went to Markarth, I cannot remember what brought me there now, but I ended up investigating corruption within the city. There’s more corruption than there is city, truthfully. That investigation got me thrown in the prison, Cidhna Mine, a dreadful place where supposedly you earn your freedom mining silver. Not that anyone has gained freedom, let us not be mistaken. Only prison in Skyrim to be privately owned. It was there I met the Forsworn leader, the King in Rags Madanach and aided him in escaping. He managed to escape and just when I thought I’d be hauled back to prison, the Jarl’s guards told me my name was clear. Apologized for arresting the Dragonborn and the Silver-Blood family, Markarth’s elite who own half the city, even held a celebration for me. A way for them to cover themselves, arresting the Dovahkiin is not a good look and I was also newly joined the Legion. They did not need the Empire looking too closely at them.” She sighs deeply. “But I did not defeat Madanach, I was sympathetic to their cause but honestly I was more concerned with not rotting underground for the rest of my life.”

There had been much, much more to the story than Ralos anticipated, but how intriguing was it to learn that the truth was far stranger than the rumours made it seem. Heroism was complex as he was learning, rather rapidly, over dinner of all things.

“I’m so sorry to hear that Mrs. Vi-” He stops himself, falling into old habits. “Theodora, that sounds terrifying. Ceri has mentioned wanting to visit Markarth but now I know it is best to avoid it entirely.”

“You’re very sweet Ralos, but I would not worry. I think you two should visit, we own property there, Vindral Hall, you two would be more than welcomed there.” He gives her a puzzled look. “Though Markarth has a bad reputation, my experience being on the worse end, I have plenty of wonderful memories there. Beautiful architecture you will not find in another city, waterfalls, a very good alchemist at the time. And it was at that celebration that I met the children’s father for the first time.” Ondolemar returns at the tailend of this, new bottle of wine in hand. By Mephala these people can drink it seemed the wine was never ending. The Altmer refills her goblet yet again.

“That is true, we met that night. Though I did not know of your extent of your treatment there at the time, it was completely unacceptable.”

“You would have taken issue with it, even then?”

“Of course.” He responds. A faint snicker is heard from beside him, Arthano noticing there has been peace for too long.

“That’s doubtful.” Ondolemar makes the rounds refilling goblets, conveniently between Ricardo and the older one at the moment.

“We always encourage you to share your thoughts, speak.” Addressing his mother, he does share his thoughts on the matter. Sharing a bit of the messiness Ralos expected earlier.

“Well, and I say this will all due respect, Ata. Nothing but respect for you.” Reaching his arm out, he offers his father a reassuring look. “But wasn’t he awful when you first met? Or rather less awful and more…” He pauses, thinking hard for the right word.” “Stereotypical? Yes, that’s the nicest way to put it.”

“How kind my son is to me.”

If you asked the Dunmer if he enjoyed gossip, he would firmly say no. That he found no pleasure in the personal lives of others, no matter how juicy the details. Affairs, bribery, secret children. No, no when his aunt discussed those matters with her friends he ignored everything. Certainly never listened in, shocked by the hidden lives of the population of Narsis. Even further, he only listened a little when the other students would gossip, they conversed loudly in front of him, it was hard to not hear. And of course Ceri would tell him things but, he was listening to his girlfriend. That’s all, making sure she was heard and understood. Which is what he is doing now, making sure he is attentive to her family and if he happens to learn more inadvertently than, so be it. A very annoyed sigh is heard as Ondolemar begrudgingly gives his son more drink.

“That is between your mother and I, how do you even learn that?”

“Blame Aunt Phy, she tells me things! Also told me mother had a whole arena career I didn’t know about until I wanted to join.” Theodora laughs.

“Your aunt would say that, both those things. Do not hold your father’s past transgressions against him.” It is a quick comment, low and vaguely hushed.

“That woman let’s me have no dignity.” Their mother continues her point.

“It was a very different phase of life, for both of us. Clearly everything turned out as it was meant to. Is it not enough to torture your siblings, you must do so your father as well.” Returning to his seat, their father makes one more remark in response to Arthano.

“Should you ever consider a career change, your quick wit would serve you well as a jester. You could inquire as early as tomorrow.” The whole table snickers and even he laughs.

“Well played Ata, perhaps I deserved that.”

“Perhaps indeed.”

[vialdovi-artstuff]

He is the best part of the dlc lmao

[wikiangela]

tease tidbit tuesday

tagged by @disasterbuckdiaz @tizniz @jesuisici33 💖

more of the cheating fic bc I'm loving the scene with Hen and Buck is being sooo messy and sooo oblivious and I'm having so much fun lmao - also, I gave myself a deadline for posting the first chapter whether I finish the whole fic by then or not (I hope I do lol 🤞) so this is gonna be my main focus for now haha (unless inspiration takes me somewhere else)

prev snippet

___

“Do you love Eddie?”

“Of course I love Eddie.” Buck huffs. It’s the most obvious thing in the world. Eddie and Christopher are his world. The only thing is… “I’m just not sure if I’m in love with him.” 

“Then why the hell did you cheat?” she asks, exasperated, and so done with Buck. If Buck was her, he’d just kick himself out, to be honest. “You and Eddie clearly have something, and you felt enough for him to cheat on your girlfriend. Don’t kid yourself that you can just go on after this like nothing happened, with either of them. The best thing you can do now is to come clean to Taylor, and probably break up.” 

“Well, you cheated too, and you and Karen figured it out.” he blurts out, and immediately regrets it when Hen’s eyes darken dangerously. Okay, this is when he’d kick himself out. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“No offense,” Hen says slowly, quietly, through clenched teeth, tone icy, and it’s almost worse than if she’d yell at him, “but you and Taylor are nowhere near me and Karen. You don’t even love her, and clearly you don’t regret cheating that much, since you did it twice. It’s an entirely different situation, so do not bring me and my wife into this.” 

“I know, sorry, that was out of line.” Buck says quietly, feeling small under Hen’s gaze.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @transbuck @911onabc @housewifebuck @watchyourbuck @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @puppyboybuckley @weewootruck @loveyouanyway @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @hoodie-buck @nmcggg @rogerzsteven @hippolotamus @steadfastsaturnsrings @giddyupbuck @dangerpronebuddie @sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @underwater-ninja-13 @exhuastedpigeon @diazsdimples @fortheloveofbuddie @theotherbuckley @911-on-abc @daffi-990

[jtl-fics]

oh i have to know what’s new with TBD <3

WIP Wednesday 4/17/24 | TBD

Andrew, for the life of him, still doesn’t know why exactly he decided to become a professional Exy player. He goes through the reasons that it isn’t the worst thing in the world once again in his head.

He was paid ridiculously well which meant he never needed to think about money again.

He had the flexibility in his schedule to do whatever he wanted during the off season.

It’s not like Exy is hard.

He thinks for a few more minutes on what other reasons there might have been for signing to play this stupid sport professionally and comes up empty. He can admit that part of the reason he may not be able to think about positives is the constant interruption to his thought in the form of camera flashes.

<<Prev | First | Next >>

[corviiids]

based on how i approach plotting ive come to the conclusion that even if i were morally and logically okay with becoming kira i would get the death note and think "okay, im going to make sure i come up with the perfect plan so i can't get caught", spend several months on it, refuse to execute it because it's not foolproof yet, and simply never get around to it. if ethics and reason didn't stop me from becoming kira then sheer procrastination would do the trick

[dangerpronebuddie]

Several Sentences Sunday!!

Tagged by @tizniz @inell who both shared AMAZING stuff y'all should show some love!! 🩷🩵

The writing beans have graced me with their presence! I have started a new wip that I am absolutely obsessed with. I'm having a lot of fun with it, so I really hope the beans don't abandon me again. While I convince them to stick around, have some of bodyguard Eddie (before he actually becomes one):

“See anything fascinating there?”

Eddie jumps at the voice suddenly beside him. He looks up at the tall man, who smiles down at him. The corners of his bright blue eyes crinkle with his smile. The yellow lights of the bar highlight his mop of golden curls that flick across his forehead. Above his left eye is a pink birthmark that matches his lips. Eddie has never thought of another man as beautiful, but that seems to be the best word to describe him. He can't be much older than Eddie, and his smile suggests an easy- but practiced- confidence.

“Not really,” Eddie admits. “Not until now.” What the hell was Eddie saying? Maybe he drank more than he thought. The man raises his eyebrows, his smile growing into a grin. He ducks his head, pulling his full lower lip between his teeth as he smiles. “I thought I was going to be the smooth one.” “You've still got a chance if you want to try,” Eddie teases. He swivels on his barstool to face the man and leans an elbow on the bar. The man mirrors his position, his biceps straining against the fabric of the white tee shirt practically painted on him. “I don't know if I can top that,” the man chuckles. “I was going to go for something really cheesy.” “What, like come here often?” Eddie grins. “I was kinda thinking is it hot in here or is it just you?” The man rakes his gaze over Eddie, the grin morphing into a smirk. “I don't think it's just me,” Eddie says, taking the opportunity for what it is and checking him out.

(tags under the cut. As always, please let me know if you want to be added/ removed):

@13shadesofanni @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @loveyouanyway

@ronordmann @steadfastsaturnsrings @daffi-990 @kitteneddiediaz

@exhuastedpigeon @spagheddiediaz @hippolotamus @diazsdimples @thekristen999

@actuallyitsellie @fortheloveofbuddie @wildlife4life @theotherbuckley

@rainbow-nerdss @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @daniwib

@lunarspark-cos @idealuk @shipperqueen6 @slowlyfoggydestiny

@misshiss727 @likeamollusconarock @lin27 @jshadow01 @orangeboxfox92

@smallandalmosthonest @thegeekcompanion @emilybahu @lemotmo @awolfnamed-nyx

@kaseysgirl86-blog @darkrose6578 @totallynotagoraphobic @dandelioncasey @bibuckbuckgoose @whatsgoodinthehood22

@lady-elaine @buckley-diaz-rules @buddiedaydreamer911 @monroemary @pirate-hunter

@nonspeakingkiku @eddiedisasterdiaz @drunkandsupportiveeddie @traumabuddies and anyone else who wants to share!! 🥰🩷

[lethargix]

enforcing my “nohobal as a cringe stoner couple” agenda (its their last day before laundry)

[bidisasterevankinard]

Tease tidbit Tuesday

look who's back! Me! Finally wrote smt. It's the part from the last chapter from the last scene of frat boys au

Hold me now don't bother

If every minute it makes me weaker

You can save me from the man that I've become, oh yeah

Tommy’s fingers around the microphone turn white and Buck knows it’s because he’s anxious. Buck’s heart misses the beat, filling with hope it’s not just about the man hating singing in public.

Electric blue eyes keep pinning him to place, showing so many things, Buck goes dizzy with it. Sadness, hope, happiness, self-doubt, regret, love - Buck sees all this and he swallows from the weight of all those emotions Tommy translates in their eye contact. And his voice? God, his voice! It sounds as if all the most talented angels started singing with the most alluring sirens harmonizing with them. This voice goes staring to his heart that already beats just for Tommy, and grabs in hard squeeze. The hold that can keep his heart safe forever or break again. And Buck just can’t stop himself from falling in the trap with the name Tommy Kinard. As always. He never could stop himself with Tommy. He always, like those sailors in mythology, was falling in the ocean of Tommy’s eyes, not seeing how he drowns till it’s too late.

Looking back on the things I've done

I was trying to be someone

I played my part, kept you in the dark

With a sad smile Tommy puts his hand on his heart, titling his head that particular way, and Buck can see not the 30 year old man, but the boy in his early 20s, who was holding hard to the mask of the guy other people wanted him to be. The mask that Buck didn't want to help him to keep anymore. The mask that he hated, because it never was his Tommy. Not really. Not how he was in the safe place of the walls in his room. Even when they were just friends. 

One head tilt and Buck’s heart breaks for the boy he loved so hard, but never could help love himself.

It���s so unexpected to see him again. With all the confidence Tommy got over the years, especially after he came out, Buck almost forgot this part of Tommy. His insecure and broken part. The part Buck was always ready to fix, but even if he couldn’t, was ready to love. Love anyway. No matter what.

I was tagged by @aspecbuddie

np tagging @wikiangela @hippolotamus @bewilderedbuckley @diazsdimples @devirnis @queerbuck @queerdiaz @watchyourbuck @evnnkinard @evanbi-ckley @repressedqueen @rogerzsteven @racerchix21 @theotherbuckley @typicalopposite @perfectlysunny02 @powersuitup @pirrusstuff @theweewooshow @epiphainie @saybiwithme @diazheartsbuckley @honestlyeddie-im-bi @loveyouanyway @monsterrae1 @marvelousbuckley @cal-daisies-and-briars @bigfootsmom @bi-buckrights and anyone who wants to

[burnthatbridge]

illicit affairs

buddie | E | chapter 1 of 8(ish) | 3k | just a boy helping his boy bestie figure out gay sex, with a side of infidelity This is how it starts: Buck goes on a date with Tommy. How it goes from there, Eddie can't even begin to explain.

Chapter 1: born from just one single glance

It’s in the aftermath, when Bobby and Athena are safe and being checked over and the 118 plus family and friends is piled in the waiting room as usual — they all have their preferred chairs with how often they’re here — that Eddie’s unfocused mild interest in this new guy who his friends trust, turns to sharp notice. 

Eddie has to step away to call Carla, to let her know they got Athena and Bobby, to assure her that he’s fine, Buck’s fine, they’re all fine. And then he spares an extra moment to text Marisol because he knows she’ll see the news soon, if she hasn’t already, and will worry.

After, when he returns to the waiting room, Tommy’s in his seat. Eddie doesn’t really have a specific one he favors so much as he always takes one next to Buck. So, it follows that, Tommy is now sitting beside Buck. 

When Eddie left, Buck’d been pale-faced, and shaky in a way he wasn’t when Bobby was missing and he had a goal to focus on. Eddie hadn’t wanted to leave him, but it was Buck who’d said didn’t he need to call Carla? Let Chris know they’re okay?

Eddie pauses across the room and regards the scene before him. Tommy is leaned in, chatting to Buck, making wide, expressive gestures with his hands as he does. Buck’s still more grey than pink in the cheeks and one hand is clutching the arm of his chair, but he’s stopped picking at the patch of peeling paint he’s about tripled in size over their past handful of waiting room residences and there’s a hint of a smile curling the side of his mouth, which had been a grim line before, waiting for the doctor to report back on Bobby and Athena, waiting to be allowed to see them. 

“He’s in good hands.”

Eddie starts at Hen’s words. She appears from behind him carrying two paper cups of what Eddie understands from experience is the worst coffee known to man. He used to force it down because caffeine is caffeine, but he can’t anymore. It reminds him too much of the three minutes and seventeen seconds that were some of the worst of his life.

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