#anyway that's the story if you made it this far it finally occurred to me that the reason annette touches my face when im half asleep
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agentemo · 8 months ago
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nowhere near a cute lil boop message so I'm over it but read tags for an epic prank my class pulled in 6th grade spoilers it doesn't go well the whole time
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evermore-fashion · 10 months ago
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Did I make a mistake?
As you're all well aware of I said goodbye to my blogs and Tumblr thinking my decision was final. However after reading all your wonderful messages I started to have doubts about my decision. So for the last few weeks I've been trying to pinpoint why I thought I had fallen out of love with high end fashion as well as Tumblr itself and the answer has been in front of my face for the best part of four years. A broken down friendship that has been plaguing my mental health
 until recently and I'm going to finally explain why. I had a best friend for the best part of 15 years that went downhill both slowly and unexpectedly. We met on a forum back in 2005 and hit it off instantly. We then met up and went on various holidays, attended concerts together, did mini weekend breaks away and got to know each other's families really well. More importantly they were the only person in my life who knew about this blog and shared my love for high end fashion. Like most friendships though it had its ups and downs but no matter what we always gravitated back towards one another, until March 2020. A week or so before COVID and lockdown took hold of our lives they told me they had met someone. I was genuinely happy for them, except for the fact they had let slip that I was the last person to know. This broke my heart and their trust as they continued to let slip more details that indicated that I was being pushed out in favour of a new crowd (aka university friends who they had told me they disliked a few months beforehand) alongside their new partner. They stayed with their partner on and off throughout COVID and I was either pushed out the door or let back in depending on their relationship status. The relationship came to an end for good towards the end of 2022 and as always I was let back into their life with plans for 2023 being made. However I held back knowing the hurt it would cause me if things suddenly changed again. This was also my breaking point with them as I wanted to protect my heart from anymore hurt, and I believe this is where my love for creativity began to faulter. Whilst I found my love for gaming I felt this mental block around Evermore-Fashion and Evermore-Grimoire which I thought was down to my passions changing. I was clearly wrong. The friendship was up and down for another six months, until last summer. They had got back in contact with me despite the fact they had started acting cold towards me which manifested in a crap Christmas and Birthday. Yet I was still willing to hear their side of the story, but it never came as they ghosted me and I haven't spoken to them since which hasn't been fun to deal with both mentally and emotionally. Although I now fully believe this is what was killing my spirit and everything I had loved for so long. Anyway fast forward to January 2024, I've said goodbye to my blogs and Tumblr when lo and behold I come across a social media post that changed everything. The ex friend had written something personal that contradicted everything they had told me (over their relationship break up) which not only angered me but it lit a fire under my butt to stop stewing in the "what ifs?" as well as holding on to a small bit of hope that they'd finally apologise for treating me like a piece of shit on the back of their shoe for so long. Not only that but I started to miss why I enjoyed being online in the first place. I checked out Vogue to see what was occurring during Paris Fashion Week and I yearned to share the Spring 2024 Couture collections on Tumblr (even though I still think it's still a toxic cesspit). Yes I could easily start this up on Wordpress or Instagram but let's face it, Tumblr is still the easiest place to start blogging creatively. So here I am. The fog surrounding my love for fashion has lifted alongside the mental and emotional baggage I've been holding on to for far too long. There's just one thing I'm still wondering though
 do you guys forgive me (as I feel like I've messed you all around ) and is it okay to come back? đŸ„č
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akaakeis · 2 months ago
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this is how it went.
part 2 of us without me.
cw/notes: angst,, falling out of love,, shoyo falls in love with another person while ygs are together (sorry),, named after (but not entirely based off) the beabadoobee song! || wc: 1k
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your alarm clock blared, waking you up in... arguably, the worst possible way. it was a saturday, and you had the early shift at work. you begrudgingly got up, shoving your comforter aside. you pause in front of your mirror, taking in how disheveled you looked; your eyes were puffy and a tinge pink, and your hair was messed up. the events of last night all rushed back to your head as you looked at yourself.
last night...
honestly, it was a blur for you. you had gotten home around midnight from your flight, and you bawled your eyes out after you crashed into your bed. looking back on the months leading up to the break up... was it even clear that shoyo loved you?
he was distant, pulling himself away from physical affections and sweet words. after a while, all of the love filled words that you had for him died on your lips, never meeting his ears. shoyo probably wouldn't have any response to them anyway, so why would you say them?
"what are you looking at?" you'd asked him one day, peering over at his phone. you see an instagram profile- someone going by the name eden. there's a little brazilian flag in her bio, and she's your age. you don't tell him you were able to see that, though.
he looks up at you, a faint smile on his face from whatever he was looking at on his phone. he subtly pulls his phone away, replying, "nothing, just an instagram story."
how vague.
the same day, as you walk by him, you notice shoyo dming back and forth with eden. you'd guessed that he had just made a friend.
that night, at dinner, it was awfully quiet. shoyo ended up breaking the silence though, rather excited at that. 
"hey, i met this girl on instagram. she lives in brazil! isn't that cool?"
so you saw the right thing.
"hmm? brazil? that's cool," you reply. "are you gonna be friends with her or something?"
he nods. "yeah, you know how there's a chance of me moving there for volleyball and all that, right? she's gonna teach me portuguese, and she'll show me around if i end up moving there."
your stomach churns at the reminder of that prospect. brazil is so far away from here.
then, another memory passes through your mind; it occurred shortly after that last memory.
"hello? oh, hey! it's so nice to finally talk to you!" you hear shoyo say excitedly. the lilt of his voice makes you turn to look at him and raise an eyebrow.
"who're you talking to?" you ask.
he doesn't answer you at first, listening to her voice on the other end of the line. then, he turns his head and mouthes to you 'eden.'
you have a visceral reaction, furrowing your eyebrows. it's weird that he's calling her. probably doesn't mean anything though.
...and here you are now. how stupid. how could you possibly think that it meant nothing? all the texting back and forth, midday calls, everything. what on earth were you thinking?
you blow air into your cheeks, zoned out as you stare at the mirror. it's been 10 minutes since you started recalling memories from last night and months before. damn mind. your eyes were watery with regret. with bubbling frustration, you harshly wipe the tears away from your face and grab your phone. 
something must have possessed you that morning, because you immediately removed eden and shoyo's contacts from your phone, along with your socials. then, you called your boss. the line rings for 5 seconds, stalling. for a moment, you hope they won't answer and hear your wobbly, hoarse voice.
a click is heard, and it's followed with a short sigh. "hi, do you need something?"
you run and hand through your hair and shake your head absentmindedly, forgetting that they can't see you. you clear your throat, trying to sound as okay as possible. "no, i just wanted to call and let you know i won't be able to do the morning shift. i'm not feeling well. could i switch with someone and do the afternoon?"
there's a brief pause as your boss contemplates this. "...yeah, sure. feel better soon." 
"great, thanks." click.
after the phone call ended, you slumped back onto your bed, tossing your phone to the foot of it. you felt awful. everything ached. the television, which you forgot to turn off last night, continued to drone on in the background. last night, you remembered it being the first season of fruits basket; god knows what episode. now, it was on season 2 episode 8. 
irritably, you grab the remote and turn off the tv, tossing the controller to the foot of your bed as well. with a final sigh, you lay back in bed, burying yourself in your blankets.
you ended up laying in bed until about 30 minutes until your shift. you threw yourself into the shower, despite how unprepared you felt. it's not like you could bail on work.
the shift felt awfully long, too. customers were irritating, coworkers were rude, and everything seemed much too loud and bright. your bets were on shoyo and eden being home together and cooking dinner. they just wouldn't leave your mind, no matter how hard you tried.
about two hours into the shift, you get a message from the area code 11. that's sĂŁo paulo. probably shoyo or eden. without looking over the message, you block the phone number. the frustration just kept bubbling up.
how could you be so stupid? naïve enough to believe that shoyo was really just becoming friends with eden? 
in your mind, it was your fault you ended up getting hurt so bad. you were more upset with yourself, and you didn't really get why. 
you just wanted to go to sleep. for a long, long time. until it stopped hurting. until you were no longer mad, whether at yourself or them.
not that you would be able to, anyway. this was progress right? it would take you a while to feel fully okay. but that's okay, too; you know that you'll be okay soon. 
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⌗ LOLL hi guys i hope you're all doing ok
⌗ it's been like two weeks since i've posted any writing i'm so sorry holy shit
⌗ i had to write a speech and a magazine article and a narrative so i fear i was still writing... just not fun things...
⌗ am i beating ai allegations rn or is my wording too fancy... (ifykyk)
⌗ idk if i did the angst justice but i tried!!
⌗ i skipped drivers ed today to write this cause i told iya i would write it (+ post but i need a proofreader SO THIS IS PROBABLY COMING OUT THE DAY AFTER IM WRITING IT) before i went to sleep tonight
⌗ booo hinata 👎👎
⌗ dw guys i'll post fluff next time I PROMISEEE
⌗ if you enjoyed this (for some reason...) please consider liking, rb-ing, following, and/or checking out my masterlist!!
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đŸ·ïž :: @laughingfcx + @chososcamgirl <3
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© akaakeis 2024 all rights reserved. please do not repost, edit, or translate my works on any platform.
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worth-the-chaos · 10 months ago
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Adventures in Babysitting - Steve Harrington x female!reader - Chapter 13
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Chapter Summary: As you all attempt to connect the dots of the gruesome murders occurring around your small but sinister town, secrets start to spill when Steve realizes you’ve been keeping things from him.
Content Warning: violence, descriptive details of Chrissy’s murder, scary upside down shit, swearing (maybe that should have preceded the previous warning), arguing, guilt and trauma
Word Count: 7.2k
Author’s Note: Ahhh! I’m so excited to be getting this chapter out! Again, sorry it took longer than usual
college is kicking my ass and syllabus week is not syllabus week-ing (kind of bullshit if you ask me). Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter and I can’t wait to see what y’all think!
Message me if you want to be added to the taglist to get updates when the next chapter is posted
I’d highly recommend it if you want to follow the story since I don’t have a definite posting schedule :)
Series Masterlist | Chapter 12 | Next Part
***
Once you had caught up to the police cars, to your horror, you were met with the sight of a body covered in a white sheet in the middle of the road. Nancy was there talking to a police officer and when she had noticed the five of you there, she quickly finished her conversation with the officer.
Now, you were all sitting at a picnic table in the trailer park, debriefing over everything you knew thus far. Your head was spinning hearing it all over again. Even though you didn’t feel quite ready to handle it, you knew that you had to. You looked around at your friends sitting beside you at the table and thought about how you were all just victims of circumstance.
“It doesn’t make sense,” Nancy finally spoke up after Dustin’s explanation.
“It’s just a theory,” Dustin replied.
“No, Fred and Chrissy don’t make sense. I mean, why them?” She shook her head as she said it. You wondered how Nancy was feeling. Knowing how much she had struggled with Barb’s death, you wondered if Fred’s was impacting her similarly.
“Maybe they were just in the wrong place?” You suggested. “I mean, they were both at the game
and near the trailer park,” you added, trying to find any and all connections you could possibly make. I just want it to make sense, you thought, if it made sense that means we could fix it.
“We’re at the trailer park,” Steve spoke up hesitantly, looking at you with worry in his eyes as he grabbed for your hand under the table. “Uhh
should we maybe not
be here?”
“There is something about this place,” Nancy began, “Fred started acting weird the second we got here.”
“Weird as in
?” Robin pushed the question.
“Scared
.upset,” Nancy looked you all in the eyes. You felt a chill go down your spine as you considered the fact that these kids—your peers—likely died in terror.
“Max said Chrissy was upset too,” Dustin reminded you all.
“Yeah, but not here. She was crying in the bathroom at school.”
“Serial killers stalk their prey before they strike, right? So maybe Fred and Chrissy saw this Vecna before?” Robin suggested. You were all grasping at straws at this point. There wasn’t anything to even go off of.
“I don’t know about you guys, but if I saw some freaky wizard monster, I would mention it to someone,” Steve spoke up. You felt a pang in your chest as you remembered all that you hadn’t been telling him.
“Maybe they did,” you added hesitantly. “I saw Chrissy leaving Ms. Kelley’s office. If you saw a monster, you
you wouldn’t go to the police. They’d never believe you.”
“But you might tell your shrink,” Robin finished your thought, sharing a knowing look with you. She had been keeping secrets for you. What Steve didn’t know was that when he had picked you up in the middle of the assembly, the two of you had run into Ms. Kelley before you could make it to the nurse’s office.
You were still crying after you and Robin had gone back inside after hanging up with Steve. You were no longer inconsolable, but tears were still streaming down your face. Robin tried to quickly rush you to the nurse’s office, her mind going a million miles a minute trying to think of a good excuse. Suddenly, you turned the corner and you jumped as you were met face to face with Ms. Kelley.
“Y/n? Is everything okay?” She asked you. Her eyes searched your face looking for an answer and you felt your heart leap to your throat. You were choked up, unable to speak, so she continued, attempting to be quiet to maintain confidentiality. “Is this about the mall fire again? Do you need to schedule another appointment with me?”
You avoided eye contact with Ms. Kelley, instead more focused on looking over her shoulder at Robin as her face twisted into a look of confusion and concern. You felt guilt pull at your chest from the look on her face and you redirected your gaze to the floor, suddenly way more concerned with the dirty laces of your tennis shoes.
“I don’t think that’ll be necessary, Ms. Kelley. Thank you though for all your help this semester. I think I’m just having one of those days and-and with Jason talking about it at the assembly
it just caught me off guard is all,” your voice was small as you responded, trying to swallow the lump in your throat.
“What can I do to support you right now?” She further inquired. All you could think of was the panic that had settled in your ribcage and how you desperately needed to leave.
“I guess
I just don’t think I’m in a good frame of mind to be in class right now. I have a quiz in O’Donell’s and I don’t want my grade to tank because of all of this,” you choked out. Ms. Kelley nodded as she rubbed circles on your back to help calm you down.
“How about I go to the front office and get you all signed out and Robin can wait with you outside for your ride?” You nodded and she turned to Robin, “you can call her folks on the payphone for her, yeah?”
Robin stood dumbfounded for a second before shaking her head to clear her thoughts. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, of course!” She quickly replied, nodding aggressively, still a bit shocked by the whole encounter. Ms. Kelley thanked Robin and headed towards the main office, and your eyes were still fixed on the floor when Robin spoke up again.
“Look, you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to, but I just want you to know that I’m here for you, okay?” She grabbed your shoulders and forced you to look her in the eye. “I’m not going to say I understand what you’re going through specifically, but I was there too, so if you ever need to talk to someone about it without shrouding it in lies about a fire, please just come to me.”
You stood there in silence for a little bit before you nodded. “You can’t tell Steve,” you warned, your voice serious. “Seriously, Robin. He can’t know about any of this.”
Robin looked like she wanted to protest but sighed before finally agreeing. “Fine. Let’s go wait for your dingus.”
Your breath caught in your throat as she had said it. You shot her a look that said “don’t even go there” as everyone was getting up to go. She rolled her eyes but dropped the subject. Suddenly you noticed Nancy was heading in a different direction as Steve started to follow after her.
“Woah, woah, Nance. Nance! Where are you going?” Steve called after her, concern lacing his voice. Your heart dropped a little at the nickname, knowing that was what he started calling her after they had started dating. You knew that he loved you, but you couldn’t help but feel less than when you remembered Steve had spent nearly a year dating the most perfect girl in Hawkins.
“Oh, there’s just something I wanna check on first.” She responded, though something in her voice made it clear that there was more than she was letting on.
“Something you maybe wanna share with the rest of us?” Dustin asked, exasperated, and you couldn’t help but agree with the sentiment. We’re all in this together and it doesn’t make sense to be keeping things from each other, you thought, but it was followed by an immediate pang in your chest as you thought about the things you’d been keeping from your own boyfriend.
“I just don’t wanna waste anyone’s time.”
“Uh, are you serious? Flying solo with this Vecna guy on the loose? No, it’s too dangerous. You need someone to go with you. In fact, I’ll go,” you started heading towards her, but Steve caught you by your elbow and pulled you back, the change in momentum causing you to stumble.
“Oh, absolutely not! No way in fucking hell!” Steve yelled, and your jaw set at the anger in his voice. You opened your mouth to argue, but Robin spoke up before you could get a word out.
“This is stupid. I’ll go with Nancy and we’ll sort out whatever it is we need to sort out,” Robin started heading towards Nancy’s car and Nancy quickly followed.
“Be careful!” You yelled out after them and they didn’t really respond because who could honestly be careful with any of this shit anyway? None of you really knew what the hell was going on.
Steve rolled his eyes as you all got in the car. “Wipe your feet,” he warned Dustin, who, in true dumbass fashion, began wiping his dirty tennis shoes off on the floor mats in Steve’s BMW. “Not on the inside! On the outside idiot!” You couldn’t help but chuckle as Steve aggressively started the car. “Always the babysitter. Always the goddamn babysitter!”
“Hey, it could be worse
the kids behave sometimes,” you reminded Steve and he looked at you like you had three heads.
“Yeah, sure, if sometimes means on the corner of never and not at all, then sure. They’re perfectly behaved,” he grumbled and you couldn’t help but laugh. The laughter, however, didn’t last long as the reality of the situation started to settle in. You were going to have to talk to Ms. Kelley.
“Hey, so I think I’ll go talk to Ms. Kelley by myself, you know. I just
I’ve been talking to her recently because she’s been helping with some college application stuff, so I’ve got a good rapport with her and whatever,” you attempted to remain nonchalant, but you stumbled over your words a bit and Steve looked at you funny. You just stared pointedly at him and he shrugged, making his way to her house. Luckily with it being such a small town, it wasn’t too hard to figure out where she lived. He parked on the street and turned the car off, beginning to unbuckle.
“What are you doing?” You asked quickly.
“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m going with you,” he responded, his brows furrowed in confusion and annoyance.
“No!” you put a hand on his shoulder, and he stopped in his tracks, his confusion significantly multiplying.
“This shit is fucked, y/n. I’m not letting you go by yourself, no way.”
“Well, then Max can go with me,” you offered, looking at the girl in the backseat who was equally confused. “I just think it’s a good idea for you to keep the car running
you know, in case something happens and we have to leave quickly.”
It was a dumb ass excuse, but Steve let it slide as he rolled his eyes and started the car again. Max opened up her mouth to ask you what the hell was going on as you made your way to the front door but you just gave a small shake of your head to shut down her potential questioning. You knocked on the door and Ms. Kelley finally answered, a look of confusion and concern painted across her features.
“Hey
I-I’m sorry to bother you over break but do you have a minute to talk?” You asked, trying to keep your voice even despite the anxiety settling in your chest.
“Um, yeah, of course. Of course,” she replied, stepping to the side to let the both of you in. You both sat down in her family room as she took a seat across from the two of you.
“So, what’s going on? What would you like to talk about?”
“I just brought Max here because with all of the murders going on
we’re just
I guess we’re just feeling a bit uneasy. It’s just making it difficult, especially since Max lives in the trailer park too where the body was discovered. It’s just hitting a little too close to home.” Max nodded, following your lead, though neither of you were being dishonest. You were both scared shitless.
“You both have experienced trauma and I know both of you don’t like to talk about it or deal with your emotions,” Ms. Kelley spoke up and you looked over to Max. She must have been seeing Ms. Kelley too. “But when you keep your feelings bottled up like that, it is very easy for something to set them off. So now, when it rains, it storms.”
“Yeah, I know,” Max replied, and your heart ached for the poor girl. You felt the ever present guilt tear at your chest as you tried to swallow the lump in your throat as she went on. “It’s just, I live right next door to where it happened. The police asked me a bunch of questions
and I guess I was just wondering if they talked to you? I know you were seeing Chrissy—“
Ms. Kelley cut her off, “you know I can’t talk to you about Chrissy.”
“I know but what if there was a serial killer loose in her neighborhood?” You chimed in. “Did Chrissy mention anything? Anything at all about who might have done this?”
“Girls, I really can’t discuss this, I’m sorry. You both wouldn’t want me talking about you to other students, right?”
“If I were dead and it would help catch the killer, then yeah, I most definitely would,” you shot back, beginning to get heated about the way this was getting you nowhere.
“Well, let’s leave that to the police then, okay?” Ms. Kelley responded, staying calm per usual despite your outburst.
“Yeah, you’re right,” you conceded, but another plan was already taking root in your mind. “Can we use the restroom on our way out?”
“Sure. Up the stairs to the left.” You grabbed Max’s wrist and gently but quickly guided her up into the kitchen, ignoring Ms. Kelley’s directions she had given you and grabbing keys labeled “office” out of a bowl on her counter.
“Come on,” you whispered, dragging her behind you as you both swiftly and silently made your way out of the house. You quickly got in the car before looking at Steve who was staring at you expectantly. “Drive.”
“What? Y/n, what did she say?”
“Nothing, just drive!” You emphasized and Steve abided as he took off. You would have to wait for the sun to go down, but as soon as it did, it was go time.
You were breaking in to Hawkins High.
***
You fumbled with the keys as you tried to unlock the doors of the school. You weren’t the type of student that did this shit. Sure, you weren’t exactly a goody-two-shoes, but breaking into the school? That was a bit too much, even for the likes of you guys.
You finally got the door opened, pushing into the dark hallway, flashlight illuminating the dark corridor as you made your way into the building. After making sure there was no one in sight, you waved the rest of the gang to follow you.
“This is dumb as hell,” Steve reminded you, “like I don’t know in what world you see this going okay
and—and if we get caught, you might as well kiss your chance of scholarships goodbye.”
“Well, some things are more important than college,” you grumbled, annoyed with your boyfriend. You guessed it was cute that he cared so much about your long term plans and aspirations—but still.
He scoffed and you rolled your eyes as you continued to make your way down the hall. Suddenly Dustin’s walkie talkie came to life, Robin’s voice echoing out into the empty hall. “Dustin, do you copy?”
“Yeah, I copy.”
“So, Nancy’s a genius. Vecna’s first victims date all the way back to 1959; her shot in the dark was a bullseye,” Robin sounded excited. Dustin was about to speak again when you took the walkie out of his hands, pressing down the button to speak.
“That is totally bonkers, but we can’t really talk right now,” you relayed quickly into the radio.
“Wait, what are you guys doing right now?”
“You know, just
breaking and entering in the school to retrieve confidential and extremely personal files,” you replied a bit sheepishly. Robin asked you to repeat yourself, but Steve grabbed the walkie talkie from you.
“Just get your asses over here, stat. We’ll explain everything,” Steve sounded irritated. He wasn’t super thrilled to be bringing two of his other senior friends into this who were likely to be expelled if the school found out about their actions.
You swiftly unlocked the door to Ms. Kelley’s office, immediately moving to unlock the file cabinet that contained all of her student files.
“It’s like a mini Watergate or something,” Dustin mumbled as you yanked the drawer open, flipping through the files. “Hawkinsgate!” Dustin emphasized, though you weren’t entirely paying attention, attempting to find Chrissy’s file.
“Didn’t those guys get caught?” Steve reminded the boy, his anxiety rising by the minute the longer you all were in the building.
“Holy shit,” you whispered, stopping at another hauntingly familiar name on a file.
“Did you find it?” Max asked, everyone’s attention now on you.
“Yeah, and not just Chrissy’s file
Fred was seeing Ms. Kelley too.”
You all looked between each other, the room becoming increasingly more tense as elements of what you knew were beginning to connect. You sat down as you flipped Chrissy’s file open. You were thumbing through the pages when you found a handwritten note with a list of symptoms. You felt your heart drop when you read them. “Um, can I see Fred’s file,” you whispered, not drawing your eyes away from the words on the page.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Steve replied, setting Fred’s file in front of you. You frantically flipped through the pages until you found a very similar handwritten note, detailing all the same ailments. You sat there, staring wide eyed at the page in front of you, hoping desperately that if you stared at it long enough that the words would change. They didn’t.
Dustin spoke up from behind you, “hey, y/n
you have a file in here too?” It was more of a question than a statement, and you broke out of your trance as Steve looked at you confused. When you didn’t say anything, he turned his attention to Dustin, his confusion turning to anger.
“Hey, that’s not funny. Stop bullshitting, man,” Steve warned, but he stopped in his tracks when Dustin held up the file folder, your name printed clear as day across the top. Why in the hell were you seeing Ms. Kelley? His mind raced as he tried not to think about all the other things you might not be telling him.
“Y/n? What is this? Y/n
y/n!” Steve began to interrogate you, holding up the file folder in front of you in a white knuckled grip. He was mad
that much you could tell, but his voice continued to sound farther and farther away. Instead, a different voice rang out, your name echoing into the room in a low and gravelly register that made your skin crawl. Even though you didn’t want to, you felt compelled to follow it.
You turned, getting up from your chair and exiting into the hallway. You heard a slight, rhythmic ticking before a chime rang out. A chill went down your spine as the noise caused your heart to sink in your chest. If anxiety had a sound, this was it.
You tried to swallow the lump in your throat as you pushed on through the hallway. You were surprised no one else had followed you, but you pushed the thought aside as you turned the corner, you flashlight slightly shaking in your unsteady hands. The light caught the wall at the end of the tunnel, and you felt nauseous looking at the ornate grandfather clock sat nestled into the wall, fissures spreading outwards as the plaster cracked around its wooden frame.
The pendulum swung back and forth ominously
hypnotically as you continued towards it. Your mind screamed at you to stop, but your legs wouldn’t listen as they continued forward, bringing you closer and closer to the clock. It continued to tick evenly, which was almost more unsettling as you wondered what it was counting down to.
“Y/n,” the voice growled out again. It was all too much to bear, so you squeezed your eyes shut tight as you willed it all to be over. Instead, you were met with bright blue, yet sinister looking eyes staring back at you.
Suddenly, Steve’s voice filled your ears again and you felt someone shaking at your shoulders. “Y/n! Y/n, please wake up! Y/n!”
Your eyes shot open as you stared wide eyed into the familiar brown ones you would daydream about. Except, instead of having the familiar flecks of light as they twinkled when he talked to you, they were dark and full of worry, his brow furrowed as he stared deep into your eyes.
You gasped and leaned forward in your chair, collapsing into his arms. He immediately reacted to your movements, pulling you in close as his hands frantically moved across your back, as if trying to make sure you were still all there. You were breathing heavily and fighting back tears as you gripped Steve’s shirt in your hands.
The door suddenly burst open, causing you to shriek, and Steve swiftly pulled you up out of your chair, yanking you behind him as he gripped your hand in his. Your heart rate began to slow as you realized it was only Nancy and Robin
not whatever that thing was that you saw.
“What’s going on?” Robin asked hesitantly. You looked between Dustin, Max, and Steve as you tried to figure out what you could possibly say. After a moment, you finally settled on something, reluctantly opening your mouth to speak.
“I
I saw something.”
“What do you mean you saw something?” Dustin asked hesitantly. He had been scared out of his mind when he saw you go catatonic in the chair, unresponsive to Steve’s shouting. He had thought back to Eddie’s account of what happened to Chrissy as he sat frozen watching Steve try to wake you.
Your lips parted to try and explain, but you shook your head, moving around Steve and darting towards the door. He tried to stop you, but Robin put a hand on his shoulder, holding him back as everyone followed you out into the hall.
“It was right there
.a grandfather clock. And—and it was so
real. When I got closer, suddenly I-I just
I woke up,” you explained, staring blankly at the wall in front of you. It sat there plain and empty, and it almost was more frightening that the clock you had seen was gone now.
“It was like she was in a trance or something. Exactly like what Eddie said happened to Chrissy,” Dustin elaborated. Steve’s stomach dropped and he suddenly felt nauseous. That couldn’t be it. He couldn’t live with himself if you

He pushed the thought aside.
“That’s not even the bad part,” you interjected, turning to face your group of friends.
“What the fuck do you mean, y/n?” Steve asked, his voice dead serious. You didn’t answer him as you quickly made your way back to Ms. Kelley’s office, opening the files that had sent a shudder down your spine as you read them earlier.
“Fred and Chrissy, they both came to Ms. Kelley for help. Uh, they both were having headaches, nosebleeds
nightmares, trouble sleeping. And—and then they started seeing things. Bad things,” you started explaining. Steve thought back to all the times you had woken up gasping in the middle of the night, burying your head into his chest as he soothed you back to sleep. He thought about the tissues he had started keeping in his car and the jokes he made about your suddenly frequent nosebleeds. He thought about the headache you had just the night before. He felt more sick to his stomach than he had ever felt in his life as he followed the dots you had connected.
“These visions, they kept on getting worse and worse, until eventually
everything ended,” you whispered the last part, your voice beginning to fail you.
“Vecna’s curse,” Robin looked at you, fear in her eyes.
“Chrissy’s headache started a week ago. Fred’s six days ago,” you continued, “I’ve been having them for five days. I don’t know how long I have. All I know is that Fred and Chrissy both died within 24 hours of their first vision, and I just saw that goddamn clock, so
looks like I’m gonna die tomorrow.” A tear rolled down your cheek as you stumbled through your words, not ready for the inevitability that you were staring in the face.
“No, that’s not going to happen,” Steve spoke up, shaking his head aggressively. “I mean, it’s all just a coincidence, right? It has to be. It-it just has to be.” His voice began to falter as he looked between all of you, none of you sharing his optimism. No one responded, and he kicked the metallic front of the desk, muttering curse words under his breath. You went to stop him, but Robin held you back. He needed this. He needed the catharsis.
Each clang that rang out was like a knife to your chest, feeling the reverberation in your body as he kicked with all his might. He finally calmed down a bit, leaning over and panting as he placed two hands on the desk and stared as his feet while fuming.
Suddenly another clang rang out; however, this one couldn’t be attributed to Steve’s outburst. This one came from somewhere else in the building. You all jumped and Steve when saw the fear in your eyes, his jaw set and he spoke up.
“You guys stay here,” he muttered as he grabbed a floor lamp, yanking it aggressively to unplug it before heading out of the room. You all obviously didn’t listen, following close behind as you hesitantly made your way down the hall. Another clang sounded, this time closer, and you jumped, Robin grabbing your shoulders to steady you. Suddenly, you heard the distinctive sound of footsteps. Someone was coming for you.
The pace of them quickened as whatever was headed your direction began to break out into a clear and definite sprint. A figure suddenly turned the corner, and everyone broke out into a chorus of shrieks and screams as Steve geared up to swing the metal lamp.
“It’s me!” The figure screamed out and you realized it was only Lucas.
“What is wrong with you Sinclair?!” Steve shouted, his paternal side kicking in as he turned this instance into a lecture.
“I’m sorry,” Lucas panted, doubled over from running.
“I could’ve taken you out with this lamp!” Steve once again emphasized, shaking the lamp for effect.
“I’m sorry guys
I-I
just give me a second
I was biking
for eight miles. And-and
we’ve got
a code red,” he panted in response. You all looked at him expectantly before he continued. “Dustin, I’ve been with Jason, Patrick, and Andy and they’ve totally gone off the rails. They’re trying to capture Eddie and they think you know where he is. You’re in terrible danger!”
Your heart stopped in your chest, as you went to stand in front of Dustin wanting to further question Lucas. You needed to know every last damn detail if you were going to keep Dustin safe, and that was all you cared about right now. Dustin pushed back in front of you, glaring at you a bit before speaking up again. “That really sucks, but we have bigger problems than Jason right now,” he relayed to Lucas, looking back at you.
***
You had split up for the night
well kind of. Everyone else was spending the night at Nancy’s but Steve decided that the two of you needed time to talk so there you were, back in his BMW as you made your way to his house. You didn’t know what to say to him, and you both rode in silence, the air tense between you.
About halfway through the ride, he had removed one hand from the steering wheel, reaching blindly to grasp your hand in his. He needed reassurance that you were still here. He needed to find a way to believe that they would figure this out and you would still be here.
You went up to his room, quietly sitting on the bed as your eyes filled with tears again now that you were in an environment in which you could be more vulnerable. Steve stood at his dresser, getting a pair of pajama pants out as he broke the silence.
“How could you keep this from me, y/n?” He sounded hurt and you really couldn’t blame him. If the tables were turned you would have felt the same way, and you felt the need to justify your actions.
“I didn’t want to worry you,” you whispered. You were looking down at your hands, though you couldn’t see them that well as your vision blurred from the unshed tears.
“That’s bullshit, and I think you know it,” Steve replied, his voice still small. “I
I just can’t believe you don’t trust me.”
“Of course I trust you Steve!” You cried out, your head snapping up to look at him.
“You sure have a funny way of showing it,” he scoffed. He knew he shouldn’t be angry with you. That he shouldn’t be taking it out on you. But he felt betrayed, feeling as though the relationship you’d built was shattering before his eyes as he contemplated the secrets you’d kept.
“You knew I was struggling. Don’t even try and act like you didn’t; this shouldn’t be a complete shock,” you defended yourself, anger leaking into your tone as well.
“Yeah, I knew you were struggling, but not like this! This is kind of a bit more than just struggling, y/n. Why didn’t you fucking tell me you were seeing Ms. Kelley?”
“Steve, that doesn’t even matter, I don’t get why you’re so caught up on that one little detail! It’s nothing compared to all the other shit going on right now!” You yelled, exasperated that, despite everything, he couldn’t just let it go.
“‘It doesn’t matter’? Are you fucking serious, y/n? Of course it fucking matters! You didn’t come to me! You never tell me things! We don’t really fucking talk about it anymore—all the shit we went through, I mean,” he sighed, running his hands through his hair as you stared up at him from your spot on his bed. He still stood by his dressed, and the distance between you suddenly felt uncrossable. In this moment, it felt like you were strangers to one another. He took a deep breath and continued, “I-I
we used to talk about it; work through it together. It seems like ever since last summer, we don’t even fucking acknowledge it.”
You stared up at him from across the room, and he thought he could break at the look in your eyes. You were hurting. You had been hurting, and all he wanted to do was try and make it better, but you wouldn’t let him.
“I don’t know what you want me to tell you, Steve,” your voice was even as you said it.
“Why didn’t you tell me about seeing Ms. Kelley?”
“Steve—“
“No, cut the bullshit, y/n. Why didn’t you tell me you were seeing Ms. Kelley? It’s a simple question; answer it,” he crossed his arms, refusing to move on until he got an adequate response. You were reaching your breaking point, and you didn’t think about the words before they exited your lips.
“Because you would have tried to help, and I don’t want your fucking help!” You blurted out. As soon as you saw the way that Steve’s face fell as you said it, you wished you could take it back. He took a deep breath and hung his head as he turned to leave the room. “Steve, wait
.I-I didn’t mean it like that! Steve!”
You ran to him, grabbing at his wrist to try and get him to stay. He shook your hand away, turning around to look back at you. You saw the way tears were beginning to pool in his pretty brown eyes.
“Y/n
just
.I just need you to leave me alone right now, okay?” He choked the words out. You were expecting him to be mad, to yell, to be angry. Instead his voice was small and sad, and you felt your heart jump to your throat. You didn’t listen, grabbing his wrist again as tears began to stream down your face. You decided that listening to him shout was easier to take than watching him cry knowing you caused it.
“Just yell at me! Steve, please. Just yell at me! Don’t leave, please baby!” You begged, pulling on his arm with each word that left your mouth. You were choking back sobs and slowly, he turned back towards you.
Something about him set off alarm bells in your head as you felt a shiver run down your spine.
“Why would I stay for you?” The words felt like a knife to your heart as your brows furrowed, confused at his words.
“What?” You whispered, your hands dropping his wrist as a lump formed in your throat.
“I said, why would I stay for you? You’re a dirty fucking liar and the most self-centered person I fucking know. It doesn’t matter what I need, or what anyone else needs. I mean, you put the kids in danger all the fucking time! When are you going to learn that this Upside Down bullshit isn’t what’s scary. You are,” he spat, taking a step towards you. Your heart was racing and you took a step back. He had never acted like this before. He had never told you that he thought these things about you.
“I-I
I don’t understand,” you cried, continuing to scramble backwards as he approached you. You’d never been afraid of him before either, but you couldn’t help the fear clawing at your chest as he continued forward, slowly yet with an aggression that had you trembling as you quickened your steps backwards to evade his reach. His room was only so small, and you were running out of room.
“Y/n,” Steve laughed. It sounded foreign to your ears; it wasn’t the melodic tone you’d come to love and seek out. Instead it was sinister, laced in condescension and anger. “Did you really think I care whether or not I’m with you or some other bitch? Do you really think anyone cares about you? You’re just some misfit freak, and nothing is ever going to change that.”
You took a step back, jumping in fright as your back hit the wall. You had run out of room, and suddenly Steve grabbed your wrists and pinned them to your sides. You squeezed your eyes shut tight and turned your head to the side, hoping that it would all just go away.
“Look at me,” Steve’s voice rang out again, but this time it was distorted, your eyes fluttered open as you cried out, being met with the same piercing blue eyes that you had seen flash across your vision before you woke up from your trance in the school earlier. You heard a chime ring out; the same chime that echoed from the clock, and you remembered the way the pendulum had swung menacingly from side to side.
“Let go of me!” You gasped out. You wished you hadn’t opened your eyes, as you took in the sight of the figure in front of you. His skin was decrepit, a slightly translucent sheen apparent as the dim moonlight filtering through the window reflected off its surface.
“You think you can atone for everything that you destroyed?” The figure asked you. Your heart was racing, feeling his clawed hands grip your wrists tighter as you tried to wriggle free. “All you’ve ever done is hurt people, put people in danger, ruin lives.”
You thought back over the past two and a half years, feeling the guilt rise in your throat as you thought about Dustin. You were supposed to protect him. You were supposed to make sure he was staying out of danger.
Instead, time and time again you led him right to it.
“Just let me go!” You shrieked. You couldn’t budge from his grasp, small cries escaping your lips in defeat as you continued your desperate and futile attempts to break free.
“Your time is almost up, y/n,” his voice was a low growl as he leaned in, saying it quietly into your ear. Goosebumps erupted over your whole body as you squeezed your eyes shut again.
“Y/n! Please! Y/n!” Another voice suddenly filled your ears. It sounded far away at first, but it became clearer and you felt someone shaking your shoulders as your eyes snapped open to meet the familiar brown ones you knew and loved. Tears were streaming down Steve’s face and when he realized you finally come to, he pulled you in, crushing you in the tightest hug you’d ever received.
You began to break down, sobs racking your frame as you grabbed onto your boyfriend. “I don’t know what’s real anymore,” you choked out between sobs, your tears forming a wet spot on his shirt as you cried into his shoulder.
“Shhhhh, it’s okay. I’m here, baby, I’m real,” he tried to console you, but he was still a mess himself. He thought back over what he just witnessed and he felt guilt settle in his chest.
He had just told you that he needed a second to be alone. He needed time to clear his thoughts because he didn’t want to say anything in the heat of the moment that he would regret later. You had clung to his arm, protesting and trying to get him to stay when all of the sudden you retreated into yourself, going catatonic as your eyes rolled in the back of your head. He felt his heart sink halfway to hell when you wouldn’t respond. Your eyes were moving rapidly back and forth underneath your eyelids and regardless of what he did, you wouldn’t wake up. All he could think about was what Eddie had said about Chrissy
the way she levitated and her bones began to snap and how her eyes got pulled back into her skull.
He couldn’t watch that happen to you.
“I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,” he whispered into your ear as he swayed with you from side to side. You could feel him still trembling and you thought back to what the figure—what Vecna, had said. All you ever brought on was hurt and destruction and chaos.
“I’m sorry!” You cried out, continuing to sob. At this, Steve immediately pulled away, looking at you quizzically.
“Why are you apologizing? Please don’t apologize, baby,” he begged.
“It’s just
I-I-I should’ve told you I was going to see Ms. Kelley! I was just afraid be-because I didn’t want you
to-to try and fix it because I knew that-that you would worry, and
and I didn’t want to put you through that stress,” you began, hiccuping through your words as you continued to cry. “Steve, I-I
I don’t think I have much time. I don’t want to waste what little we might have left being angry at each other, so can you please forgive me?”
Steve ignored your plea for forgiveness, instead focusing on the other aspect of your statement. “What do you mean you don’t have much time?” He asked hesitantly, afraid of what your answer would be.
“I saw Vecna,” you whispered, “he told me my time is almost up.”
“I’m not going to let him take you from me, y/n. I’m just not,” he shook his head aggressively as he stared at you wide eyed.
“Steve, this is exactly why I didn’t tell you—“ you began but he cut you off.
“Y/n, I don’t care that you don’t want me to worry about you; I’m going to regardless of whether you tell me to or not, and if you think that I’m going to let some Upside Down, inter dimensional, creepy ass motherfucker take you away from us, you are dead wrong,” he started, getting more and more emphatic and angry as he spoke. When he continued, his voice was softer. “I’m not letting anyone hurt my girl again, okay? We’re all going to figure this out and everything is going to be okay. We’re going to find Vecna and kill his ass, and everything is going to be okay
you are going to be okay.”
It sounded like he was trying to convince himself just as much as he was trying to convince you. You put your hands on the side of his face, trying to get him to settle, your heart hurting at his frantic speaking, a stark contrast to his usual more calm demeanor.
“Steve, but what if it’s not?” You asked, your voice a whisper.
“It has to be,” he whispered back. You could see the tears beginning to well in his eyes again, and you placed a soft kiss to his lips. He reciprocated, deepening the kiss as his hand went to the nape of your neck. He kissed you like his life depended on it; like he would never get to kiss you again as he pushed you towards his bed, laying you down gently.
His lips moved across your jawline as he kissed your soft skin, placing gentle but fervent kisses on the spot just below your ear. His lips trailed down your neck as he listened to you breathe. You were whispering his name and he took a second to take it all in.
Here he was, with the love of his life, who was presumably about to die at any given moment. Yet you were still sitting like a masterpiece on his sheets, his name dripping from your lips like honey. You were everything he had ever wanted and he cursed himself for not doing a better job at protecting you.
“Steve?” You whispered breathily, putting a hand on his chest to stop him. He propped himself up better, looking down at you, and he felt his heart skip as he looked into your lust filled eyes.
“What is it baby?”
“I’m ready,” you whispered. Understanding what you meant, he leaned down and placed the sweetest and most gentle kiss to your lips.
Tomorrow wasn’t certain, so tonight, Steve was going to love you as if there was no tomorrow, making sure you knew exactly just how much you meant to him.
While you spent the night tangled up in Steve’s bedsheets as he placed hot kisses across every inch of your body, for the first time in a while, you felt at ease. You allowed yourself to revel in the bliss of that moment because, come tomorrow morning, you were going to have to start facing the reality of the situation.
And the reality of a sudden and gruesome death was a hard pill to swallow.
***
a/n: anyway, so shit’s gettin’ real. Reblog if you want to give me a free dose of serotonin while I’m muddling through the dumpster fire that is college :)
taglist:
@season4steve @sassyheroneckgiant @tangledinthegreatxscape @maeve-wileyy @palachannie @chaerfull @usaguisenpaisblog @emilieluckwood @sabrinadelreyy @mochminnie @xprloki @kitdjarin1 @kissmxcheek @daemonskitty @bethsvrse @aheadfullofsteverogers @quinnsadilla @chervbs
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mumms-the-word · 8 months ago
Text
Shadow Curse Events Pt. 1
Ketheric, Selûne, Shar, and Aylin
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I’ve played through the game a few times at this point and I always find myself struggling to understand the timeline or at least order of events that occurred with the Shadow Curse. I know some things conflict because there was one version of the story in Early Access (the version where Halsin accidentally killed Isobel) and it was heavily altered for the final version of the game, and some things just got *gestures vaguely* waved away, but I keep wanting to make sense of it anyway.
So that’s what this post (edit: I mean series) is going to do. After the cut, obviously. Long deep dive post ahead! Picture of a tired Ketheric for attention and because same bro c':
TLDR: These events happen either in the 1370s or the 1390s. Ketheric loses Melodia (his wife) and Isobel (his daughter) and turns to Shar. He captures Aylin, then builds a Big Dark Justiciar Army, training them and forcing them to kill Aylin over and over. Meanwhile, a Selûnite resistance is brewing in the town, and it's kind of making everything worse. One Selûnite rebel even goes so far as to make a deal with a devil. And all of that is BEFORE the Harpers and druids arrive as an army.
We don’t have dates, unfortunately, aside from knowing that the shadow curse itself was unleashed about a century ago, so “timeline” would be a loose term to use if/when I use it. But I have two theories about when it happened.
One theory is that because the Spellplague was happening between 1385-1395 DR (during which there was neither a true Weave nor a Shadow Weave, which is what the shadow curse is made of), the shadow curse likely started around 1396-1399, just shy of a full 100 years before the game’s events in 1492. But that’s just me conjecturing based on the idea that if the Shadow Weave is gone
how does the shadow curse stick around? 
The other theory is that the shadow curse was unleashed sometime between 1371 and 1374. This is because a) Dark Justiciars were still being sent by Ketheric Thorm to destroy Moonhaven (the Blighted Village) in 1371 (Ketheric writes a letter about attacking Moonhave and a journal dated 1371 boasts that Ilyn Toth, the basement apothecary-necromancer dude, got killed by Dark Justiciars) and b) because Khelben Arunsun himself, the literal Blackstaff (super powerful and very old wizard), wrote a letter negotiating surrender on behalf of the Harpers.
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We cannot be party to the suffering of the people of Reithwin, and indeed, of the great loss of life that this war will visit upon the Sword Coast - and, perhaps, beyond it. So it is written, and so let it be done, Khelben Arunsun, on behalf of the High Harper Council and its allies.
Wiki says Khelben broke his alliance with the Harpers in 1370 due to some disagreements, but it’s possible his splinter faction was at the battlefield with the other Harpers. I doubt he was there personally, but who knows. I wouldn’t go any earlier than 1371, though, because Baldur’s Gate II happens in 1369, and Jaheira would have been too busy dealing with those events to deal with Ketheric too. But it can’t be later than 1374,  because Khelben Arunsun dies in 1374.
(I have questions about how the shadow curse survived the Spellplague and the loss of the Shadow Weave, but the answer to that could simply be All Magic Was Weird and Unstable at the time
plus Thaniel was already in the Shadowfell by this time, so the land couldn't heal.)
So it’s either 1371-1374 (because of the Khelben timeline, and I guess the Spellplague didn’t affect it) or it’s 1396-1399 (because of the Spellplague, but the writers just forgot Khelben was dead by that point, or maybe his ghost wrote the surrender notice idk). Both are good enough for Halsin and Jaheira to talk about things happening “a century ago,” but you can see why I’m avoiding dates.
But let’s push it back a few more decades. Back when Ketheric was a SelĂ»nite and Isobel a very small child.
As we’re probably all well aware, during this time, Ketheric worships SelĂ»ne along with his wife, Melodia. At some point, he even commissions the local Mason’s Guild to build Moonrise as a testament to SelĂ»ne herself, according to Morfred the mason (who you can talk to in House of Hope, it’s pretty cool). Ketheric and Melodia have Isobel, but then Melodia dies while Isobel is still pretty young. Ketheric remains a SelĂ»nite, mostly for Isobel’s sake, until she dies too.
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Ketheric: I’ll tell you a story, True Soul. About a man who sold himself piece by piece. He had
everything. A wonderful wife. A brilliant daughter. They lived not far from here. His wife died too young. Grief tore through their home like a thief, snatching away the scent of her hair, the rustle of her skirts. But the man did not break. He could not break. His daughter needed him whole, after all. She grew up—grew strong. Challenged him. Filled his heart with such joy it supplanted all sorrow. When she was killed, the man
he tried to remain whole, but it wasn’t possible. Do you understand? Player: So the man fell to pieces. Ketheric: The pain was unbearable. All-consuming. He decided he’d do anything for reprieve. First, he sold himself to the goddess of loss. But the pain did not subside, no matter his obscene feats of devotion. Then a new god came—a god who promised the man something wonderful: his daughter. Her life returned. Imagine it. He would have to give everything: his body and soul entire. He did not hesitate. Not for a moment.
We know this story. Ketheric turns to Shar and everything goes Very, Very Badly. But the exact details/order of Ketheric's Sharran days are a little hazy. So here's what I've been able to piece together to sate my own curiosity.
While Ketheric is still a faithful (but waning) Selûnite, Dame Aylin visits as an emissary of Selûne. Moonrise/Reithwin is a Selûnite refuge and the Thorms are allegedly devout favorites of the moon goddess, so it's a big deal. While she's there, she and Isobel fall in love. Ketheric disapproves, in part because Aylin is immortal and Isobel is not (Isobel and Aylin both say this in dialogue).
Plus, and this is a personal opinion, I think Ketheric might have seen Aylin's interest in Isobel as another thing Selûne was trying to take from him. It isn't enough that Selûne let Melodia die, now her daughter is trying to woo his daughter and take her too.
But then Isobel dies. Somehow. The launch version of the game isn’t clear how. Aylin mourns but Ketheric spirals. He turns to Shar, hoping she will force him to forget about Isobel, but he doesn't. Nevertheless, he becomes a zealous Sharran.
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[A journal spanning years, beginning with the birth of a child and ending with what appears to be a series of dateless tragedies.] How can she be gone? Where did she go? The Moonmaiden cannot be so unfeeling - so cruel. Not toward her most devoted servant. Not after Melodia. It makes no sense. It makes no sense. I won't survive it. That much I know. Forgetting is the only possibility. The embrace of oblivion. The reprieve of nothingness. It would not be possible for a man to survive knowing what he knows. Knowing what can be lost. Shar understands that. Hers is the only mercy I can comprehend. My mind is full of holes - yet not enough. The emptiness. The time. The nothingness. And still I remember. Still I remember it all. There is no mercy in this beating heart. There is no mercy in life at all.
He builds the Gauntlet of Shar (or maybe renovates and Shar-ifies it, maybe it was already there) beneath the Thorm mausoleum, connecting it to the much more ancient Grymforge area. Grymforge becomes a kind of base or stronghold for the Justiciar army while the Gauntlet is designed to test their mettle and prepare them for the task that will make them official Dark Justiciars—killing Aylin, though it's not clear when Ketheric and Balthazar lure her into the Shadowfell.
I'll get back to that later.
We know that Grymforge was used as a Dark Justiciar stronghold and possible training ground because of all the Sharran stuff we find there. It's like super obvious. The feasthall room, the dormitories, the weapons that lay everywhere. There's basically a whole Sharran city in the Underdark beneath and near Reithwin, some of which we can see from various points in Grymforge. In fact, if you go through the poisoned room where Nere is, you can see the Gauntlet down below.
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(It's a little hard to see here 'cause I play on console but there's a glimpse of the giant Shar statue that takes up a ton of space in the Gauntlet. Somehow, the two places used to connect.)
Ketheric's new Sharran teachings are ruthless and vicious. He encourages his Dark Justiciars to kill a Selûnite once a tenday or more as part of their training and service to the Lady of Loss.
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The Law of Nightfall: From the moon falls the foulest of lights. iIt peeks through cracks and fissures, illuminating the most remote recesses of the Underdark. Light bestows hope, a pernicious notion which must be extinguished. At the darkest hour, pray to your Lady and feast in Her honour. The second day after, slay a disciple of Selûne. If none may be found, a Lathanderian or Mystran are an acceptable offering. Do this once a tenday, and the Lady of Loss shall know you.
Reithwin and the surrounding village soon become a hunting ground. Most people convert. Those who don't get hung in the square as examples (according to a shadow memory). All faithful Selûnites are forced to practice their devotion to the Moonmaiden in secret, led by Morfred the mason and his brother Halfred the innkeeper of Last Light Inn. Halfred hides Selûnite relics beneath Last Light (you can still find them) while Morfred plots a true resistance.
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[Hidden amidst columns detailing the income and expenditure of a tavern is an aside, written in tiny, urgent handwriting.] I have concealed the sacred relics of our revered goddess in the darkest corner of this place. Morfred, my loyal brother, seeks to forge a network of allies to stand against the oppressive reign of Ketheric Thorm. Sadly, fear has gripped the hearts of many, turning them away from our cause. I cannot truly blame them, for trepidation fills my soul as well - but I must put aside my own fears and reunite with Morfred in the bowels of the Mason's Guild. Together, we shall preserve what we can of the Moonmaiden's light, and hope that the banners of the faithful soon rise against that treacherous dog, Thorm.
But as time goes on, Morfred grows increasingly distressed with the events happening in Reithwin and the ease with which people are eager to switch faiths.
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- How quickly things change. The Thorms are Selûnite through and through - or so I believed. Perhaps Ketheric only converted for Melodia, and with her death - and then his daughter's - his faith died too. But to turn to Shar? It beggars belief. - Ketheric's Justiciars are growing greater in number, and more determined to rout out any traces of Selûne in Reithwin. Why do they think this town was built? One cannot rip out the foundations of a building and expect it to remain standing. - Brother and I remain the last two bastions of Our Lady of Silver in the town. A few - the trusting few - come to worship in secret by moonlit nights. Others - converts, all. Whether they truly believe, I cannot say. Impossible, isn't it?
(Don't worry, the second page is further down lol spoilers!)
Life is not going well in Reithwin, even if you're not a Selûnite. Ketheric is determined to destroy all traces of Selûne and treason of any kind. His Dark Justiciars begin tormenting citizens to reveal pockets of Selûnite resistance. He also suffers no treasonous word against him, even if the citizens in question aren't Selûnite. We see a glimpse of this and of the Justiciars' cruel influence during the questline with He Who Was and Madeline, who ratted out her friends' innocent(?) complaints about Ketheric to some Justiciars, resulting in their brutal deaths.
Eventually Morfred realizes that the Dark Justiciars are too powerful to resist and turns to Raphael, offering his soul in exchange for something to destroy the Dark Justiciar army.
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- Sick of standing idle while Justiciars gain power in our humble town. What will become of us if we allow it? I met a man who was no man. Touched by a devil. Or maybe worse. But he offered me something I couldn't refuse - help. - The time is now. Ketheric's Justiciars, their stronghold in the temple below - they will be wiped out. All of them. I didn't ask how. I just want them gone. Let the Harpers have at Ketheric now. They'll make short work of him.
You can ask Morfred about this in the House of Hope, actually, where he confirms the details. I mean, he's in Raphael's house, so it's pretty obvious the he did, in fact, make a deal with him.
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Infernal Mason: When tragedy came, my master fell into darkness and despair. He marshalled a great army to ruin the world and bring all into shadow. I could not let it happen. I sought out the devil Raphael and signed an infernal pact with him. He promised to destroy my master’s army, and I promised him my soul in return. The devil was true to his word. Fiends slaughtered my master’s forces, but he endured somehow, and blighted the land.
The Fiend in question here is Yurgir, who ends up crashing through Grymforge and the Gauntlet to kill all Dark Justiciars in his path. (He misses one, because Raphael is a sneaky bastard who let one get away by turning him into a swarm of rats, but I digress.) We know Yurgir caused the destruction in Grymforge, too, because of the Merregon masks and hellbeasts we find around the area, and the fact that if you pass all the checks with the Duergar mason examining the stone, he helps you piece together this narrative:
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Stonemason Kith: An ancient city, hewn from the stone by the disciples of Shar, later abandoned. Untold centuries later, a new tribe revives it. Fresh walls, fresh sculptures...until a great hellbeast charges through, toppling the walls and crushing the people! Heh - that explains the infernal plate I found. Perhaps you might have use of it.
Further proof that Grymforge and the Gauntlet were once connected...somehow.
Anyway, by the time Yurgir is called in, Morfred's already been found out. Thisobald overhears him drunkenly complaining about Ketheric in the Waning Moon and informs Ketheric of his treachery. Ketheric orders a raid on the mason's guild, leaving Halfred the lone source of Selûnite resistance. It's unknown what becomes of Halfred, but considering the fact that the inn was still taking guests (like Art Cullagh) and housing the Harpers right before the shadow curse descended (there's a shadow memory of a Harper toasting his comrades in Last Light right before the battle with Ketheric long ago), it's likely he's a victim of the curse and not Justiciar brutality.
I’m not sure which is worse, honestly.
It's unclear when Morfred dies, though he admits to witnessing the first part of the shadow curse (i.e., "...but he endured somehow, and blighted the land"). But Morfred's deal coincides in some ways with the arrival of the Harpers and druids. I think he probably makes the deal with Raphael before the Harpers officially march against Ketheric and then gets caught after he hears rumors of the Harpers.
Raphael makes good on his deal around the same the Harpers arrive, perhaps a little afterward. This means Yurgir's slaughter of Justiciars in the Underdark must happen concurrently with the battle happening topside between Ketheric's army and the Harpers/druids, meaning Ketheric is losing his army on two fronts at the same time. Victory seems assured for the Harpers and druids, but of course we know now that Ketheric had a way of cheating death already in place.
He had already imprisoned the Nightsong in a Shadowfell soul cage.
Again, we’re not sure exactly when this happens, but it’s after Isobel dies and before the shadow curse, which unleashes with Ketheric’s supposed death in the battle against the Harpers and druids. However, Aylin herself says that Ketheric and Balthazar lured her into the Shadowfell under the pretense of saving an innocent.
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Dame Aylin: He and his loathsome advisor Balthazar lured me into the Shadowfell, claimed they'd found someone in need of my aid. There they trapped me in their infernal cage. I was killed, murdered, made dead, over and over and over by Justiciars of every make and kind. I was reborn, for it is my nature. And Ketheric fed upon my immortality all the while.
This makes me think that Aylin wasn’t aware of Ketheric’s conversion yet, so it must have been very soon after, because otherwise, why would she trust a known Sharran telling her to enter the Shadowfell, the realm that is entirely under Shar’s control? I also suspect Ketheric built (or renovated) the Gauntlet around Aylin after her capture, perhaps at the behest of Shar due to their collaboration in making up new Justiciar teachings, or perhaps out of a sick, vengeful desire to see Aylin tormented for daring to love his daughter.
If this is true, then there’s a very real chance that Ketheric was unkillable before he truly started to torment Reithwin town, and well before the Harpers stepped in to take him down.
Anyway we at least know that Ketheric trapped Aylin in the Shadowfell before the big battle against the Harpers because a) both Isobel and Aylin talk about her being there for a century and b) because Ketheric is already using her invulnerability to survive assassination attempts on his life prior to or during the actual battle against him and his army:
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23 Elient The Harpers came too close - they poisoned Father Ketheric himself, yet he professes no ill effects. Malus insists it a fluke. Doctor he may be, but he is no less a fool for it: Father has achieved that of which I can only dream: immortality. I have long suspected. I can guess Father's purpose, but I cannot fathom the means.
This brings us to the eve of the battle itself. But this post is already hella long, so keep an eye out for part 2, all about the Harper and druid battle against Ketheric!
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elliesflower · 2 years ago
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i saw you in a dream [6]
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chapter 5 here
summary; you get in your head about ellie and cat.
chapter; 6/? 2.5k words
cw (per chapter); language, light angst
an; SURPRISE SHAWTY
it's my birthday but i felt like giving y'all a gift. you all make my days so special and put a smile on my face with your sweet comments and messages. i love you all with my whole heart!
find this chapter on ao3 here, i also made a spotify playlist to go with this story, listen to it here :)
“Cat,” you repeated her name, with a smile. But it felt like poison rolling off your tongue. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” she smiled back, and her teeth were fucking perfect, bleached white and practically sparkling in the soft ambient lighting in the theatre. It sounded insincere, somehow. 
“So, Ellie,” Cat was back to talking to Ellie as if you didn’t exist, turning away from you so that you could gaze at her super angular jawline and dreamy slick black hair as it gently brushed her shoulders. Ellie shot you a quick look that you couldn’t quite decipher—it’s not like Cat would have noticed though, she was too busy tugging at the hem of Ellie’s flannel. You quickly averted your eyes, backing away slowly, scanning the room for Dina. Wishing desperately that the earth would just open up and swallow you whole. Their conversation suddenly seemed
personal. 
“I was thinking tonight I’d take you out to dinner, my treat! Your set was amazing,” she was purring. “I couldn’t have done this without you,” and if she had a tail it would be sticking straight up in the air, curling at the tip and pulling Ellie in. You glanced back at Ellie, who didn’t look at you, and instead looked down and grabbed Cat’s hand from her flannel. You turned all the way around now, swallowing the lump in your throat. 
But Ellie sang your song. Your song? The two of you had hung out one time. You can’t have a song with someone after one hang out, can you? It’s a pretty popular song, and easy enough for a quick performance. Yeah. Your brain tried to piece it all together, drowning out Ellie and Cat’s voices behind you, maybe if you squeezed your eyes shut you could just pretend you were somewhere far, far away, not making a fool of yourself in front of a pretty girl you thought might like you too. 
“Dude, we gotta go, my chem professor just saw me and he’s gonna rip me a new one for missing my final,” Dina appeared practically out of thin air, like a goddamn angel, and grabbed your arm, tugging harshly. You opened your eyes, blinking at her. 
“Wait, you skipped your chemistry final?” 
“What? It’s not like I was gonna pass anyways,” she shook her head at you like it was obvious. 
“Oh. Yeah, okay, whatever,” you sounded dejected. You felt dejected. You probably looked it, too. Dina glanced behind you, presumably at whatever disgusting form of PDA was occurring between Ellie and Cat, based on the change in her expression.
“Who the fuck-” 
“It doesn’t matter,” you cut her off, starting towards the door. “Let’s just go.”
It was stupid. This was stupid. Of course Ellie would end up with a person like Cat. Girls like Ellie don’t go for people like
you. People like Cat always have the upperhand—their features the pinnacle of modern beauty standards, voices like a slow dripping faucet of saccharine honey, a presence that captivates the room in an instant. There was no competing with that. They always win. 
“Hey,” Dina’s voice was laced with concern, and she was by your side in an instant, matching your stride as you practically stomped towards the exit. You tried to blink away the tears that slightly clouded your vision. “What happened back there?”
“I don’t really want to talk about it,” you said, not looking at her. You could feel her gaze piercing into the side of your head, and could envision her brows pinched together with worry. 
“C’mon, just tell me. Who was that?” 
“It was no one,” you grumbled, blinking rapidly now, fighting the burning behind your eyes. 
“Well ‘no one’ sure had some fucking audacity to-”
“Audacity to what, Dina?” You stopped dead in your tracks, turning to face her. She looked at you with wide eyes. “I said I don’t want to talk about it.” Your tone was harsh. You felt it, as it painted Dina’s face with dispirit, the corners of her mouth turning downward slightly. Instantly, you regretted it. 
“Okay. I’ll leave it,” she forced a smile, but you couldn’t say anything else, just stuck dead in your tracks as you looked at her, unmoving. Blinking. Why the fuck are you blinking so much?
“Seriously, it’s okay,” she said after a moment, but her voice sounded a little shaky, and you felt like shit. How did Ellie get into your head like this? 
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” you burst, the pressure behind your eyes turning into a waterfall, spilling from your eyes as you covered them with your hands, shaking your head. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just
a lot.” 
“Hey, I said it’s okay,” Dina assured, and her voice made you want to cry even harder—she was so good to you, grabbing your hands away from your face and leading you further down the hall, away from the people that were trickling out of the theater. “I’m sorry for pressuring you. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. Ever.” 
“No, it’s not that,” you sniffed, letting her lead you out the main entrance. “I do want to tell you, it’s just
frustrating,” you sighed, exasperated as the cold hit your face and pricked your skin through the holes of your sweater. 
“I get it,” she nodded. 
“I can’t believe I thought I actually had a chance with her,” you moped, wiping the wetness from under your eyes. Dina was quiet next to you as you walked, though she looked deep in thought, watching the ground as the two of you walked. She led you all the way to a bench just outside of your dorm building without saying another word. You watched your breath turn to fog as you sat, instinctively pressing against Dina to share body heat. 
You felt shameful. Both for that terrible interaction with Ellie, and for snapping at Dina. You wished you had never even gone to that open mic, that you had just said you were sick like you’d proposed to Dina a few hours before when the nerves were settling in—you supposed you should have listened to your gut. 
“That was her roommate. Cat,” and yep, the name was still venomous. Dina looked at you, silently prodding you to continue. You looked down at your hands, rubbing them together in your lap. 
“Apparently, they ‘go way back,’” you made air quotes. “Wednesday, when she invited me to this, she mentioned something about a toxic ex. I have a feeling it’s her. Although she kind of acts more like they’re currently together.”
Dina watched you for another moment, before turning away, looking down at her feet. She was silent for a moment, and you wanted to scream. Even Dina, the queen of advice, had nothing to say to you. Lovely. 
“I’m sorry, but if Ellie doesn’t see what she could have with you then she’s fucking stupid,” she blurted suddenly, and she was no longer sad, but angry. You looked at her, and she was shaking her head, looking out into the empty courtyard.
“Dina, it’s really okay,” you said, but your voice was small and unconvincing. 
“No, I’m serious,” she said. “That was fucked up. And I’m sorry.”
You looked back down at your hands. 
“It’s okay,” it didn’t sound like it. “It was just a crush. I’ll get over it.” Dina kept her eyes on you, watching as you bounced your knee anxiously. 
Just a crush. Hah. Okay. 
“Do you want to go inside?” Dina asked after a beat. Yeah, you were fucked. 
“I think I’m gonna hang out down here for a minute. I could use the fresh air,” you said quietly. 
“Fresh air? Dude, it’s fucking freezing out here, you’re going to catch a cold or something,” Dina chided, before standing up. “God, you’re making me sound like a mom.”
“I’m really okay, Dee,” you tried to smile, but it felt awkward on your otherwise solemn face. “I’ll walk around a bit. I’ll be fine.” She looked at you for another moment with pursed lips, before nodding slightly. 
“Turn your ringer up, yeah?” 
You nodded, accepting her warm hug, gratefully. Ironically, you thought, she also kind of hugged like a mom. 
You regretted not going in with her about thirty seconds into your walk. It was kind of hard to think about anything but the bitter cold stinging your cheeks—though, you supposed, that was kind of a good thing. Maybe the freeze would seep into your brain and ruin the part of your brain responsible for holding onto memory of Ellie. Kind of pathetic, huh?
“Are you out here all alone?” 
You nearly stumbled over nothing, flinching when a voice startled you out of your thoughts, turning quickly to the sound. 
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. 
“Ellie,” you breathed, your eyes widening, your heart rate increasing by the second. She adorned a tan Carhartt coat now, her hands stuffed in her pockets, and she looked a whole lot warmer than you felt. You swallowed thickly, unsure of what else to say. So much for forgetting about her. 
“You disappeared,” she spoke for you, kicking her foot against the ground softly. Nervously.
“Yeah,” you said lamely. She nodded for a second, before looking down at her feet. You wanted to run away. 
“What are you-”
“I just wanted to-”
Both of you tried to speak at the same time. You immediately crossed your arms across your chest, partially for warmth, mostly because you felt really fucking awkward. 
“Uh, go ahead,” she gestured at you to continue speaking. 
“Oh, I, uh- was just going to ask
uh, what you were doing. Out here,” you stammered a bit, trying to gauge her expression. Fuck, she was hard to read. 
“Well, my house is that way,” she pointed behind you. “So, I gotta walk
this way
” she trailed off, scratching the back of her neck awkwardly. 
“Right,” you nodded, shivering slightly as a breeze swept between the two of you. You didn’t really want to hear what she was going to say. 
“Are you cold?” She asked, eyes suddenly soft. 
“Well I’m not exactly warm,” you quipped, but it didn’t have much weight to it. The corner of Ellie’s mouth twitched up slightly, but her face remained neutral. 
“Do you want to come over?” 
You felt faint. You felt like crying. You felt like saying no. You felt like saying yes. But you couldn’t say anything, so you just nodded instead. 
Ellie gave you her jacket, after weak protest. It smelled like how your tent does on a warm summer night in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by the stars and the peaceful whisper of wind through the trees—also like weed, and that amber aroma that seemed to be trapped in her pores. 
She didn’t say a single word to you, after that. Just walked, wordlessly beside you on the familiar path to her house. You tried to regulate your breathing, tried to push aside the questions that ran through your brain like, why is Ellie here, walking me to her house when she could be having dinner with Cat? And also, where is Cat? 
Ellie’s house smelled exactly as you remembered it, though, the scent was mildly soured when you suddenly remembered that Cat lived here, too. The warm air against your cold skin made you shiver slightly as you shrugged off Ellie’s coat in the entryway—of course, she was by your side in an instant, grabbing it from you before throwing it over the rack. It was still silent as the two of you kicked off your shoes, before Ellie turned to look at you. 
“Do you want to go upstairs?” You weren’t sure why she was asking you. You were already shoe-less, in her entryway. 
“Lead the way,” you found yourself saying. Just like the first time. 
Ellie’s room still smelled the same, too. Earthy and rich, dreamy and intoxicating. You felt high already. Your brain was spinning, your heart racing, your hands slightly shaky. Ellie sat down on the edge of her bed, leaving plenty of room for you—if you ever stopped hovering near the door. 
“You can sit, you know,” Ellie said after a moment, smiling softly at you. An invitation. You swallowed. What the fuck are you doing here? 
But then you were sitting, next to her, just this close to touching her leg with your own. You didn’t look at her. It felt like middle school. It felt exciting. It felt so fucking confusing. 
“So, I thought you were going to dinner with Cat. What happened?” Your mouth was moving before your brain could stop you, and Ellie practically flinched at your words. She regained herself quickly, though.
“Oh, I didn’t really want to go out. I’m just a little tired,” she said, pulling her legs up onto the bed and crossing them beneath her.
“If you’re tired then what am I doing here?” You asked. Her eyes widened a bit.
“Well, I mean- I’m not that tired, I just- didn’t want to go out anywhere, you know?” 
No, you didn’t really. 
“Yeah,” you said instead. She was getting harder to read by the second. You shrunk back a bit, drawing your legs up onto the bed and leaning against the headboard opposite of Ellie. The pause hung heavy, nearly tangible between your bodies.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly, looking down at her lap. You watched a loose strand of hair fall into her face, and her nose scrunched up. You wanted to brush it away, to feel the warmth of her skin beneath your palm as you caressed her face—
“For what?” You asked, even though you kind of knew. 
“For Cat,” she said quietly. 
“What about her?” 
“She can be kind of
a lot.”
“Is she your girlfriend?” You asked, like you were entitled to that information. Like you’d hung out more than once. 
“No, she’s not.” Ellie was quick to deny, looking back up at you now. Her eyes sparkled in the soft yellow lamplight cascading upon her face. Your throat felt tight. You nodded, pulling your knees into your chest. 
“She used to be.” Ah, there it is. 
“And now she’s your
”
“Roommate.”
“Right.”
Just the other day, Ellie had said she knows all about toxic exes. You didn’t think that meant she literally lived with one. What are you doing here?
“She’s just my roommate, I swear,” she was insistent, leaning forward, trapping you in her gaze. You nodded again. You weren’t sure why she was repeating herself. You glanced at the clock behind her on her desk, which read 10:32pm.
“It’s getting late,” you said weakly, knowing fully well you’d be up until three am. Ellie’s face fell, just slightly. 
“You just got here,” she said, though she wasn’t being much of a great host. 
“You said you were tired.”
“Yeah, but I- well-” she stuttered, picking at her cuticles. 
“It’s okay,” you were saying, though you didn’t know why. It didn’t feel very okay. As soon as your feet hit the ground she was standing up as well, one hand awkwardly snaking into her back pocket as she took a deep breath. 
“I’ll walk you back to your dorm?” She offered. 
“It’s okay. I’ll have Dina meet me somewhere.” You won’t even text her. Ellie didn’t say anything, but she nodded, giving you a smile. 
It didn’t reach her eyes.
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daddy-dins-girl · 8 months ago
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Playdate - Chapter Eight
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IMPORTANT NOTE: I'm posting both chapters 7 and 8 today so just make sure you didn't actually miss 7 or this one might not make much sense, lol. Also I'd recommend having chapter 7 fresh in your mind when you read this one. This chapter serves as an 'interlude' chapter that occurs before/during/after Chapter 7 but is told from Dave and Marcus' POV's (not Reader's). One final note, a page break/divider indicates a shift of POV to another character, but hopefully that comes across easily enough in the writing anyway.
Main Masterlist Series Masterlist
AO3 link
pairing: Marcus Pike x f! Reader x Dave York
Word Count: 5.1k
Notes: Who gave me the right to put all this ANGST in my PORN story? dw, I have a couple more chapters planned out, I'll fix this mess I've created eventually :P
Chapter Warnings (BIG TIME spoilers in the warnings... I'd recommend skipping them if you don't want to be spoiled. If you're at this point in this story, you're fine with whatever I have left to throw at you lol): 18+ MDNI. M/M (Yeah that's right. Reader who? Sorry babe, I'll make it up to you next time!). Oral sex. Hand jobs. Anal play. A shower stall is our 3rd main character in this chapter. Inexperienced!Marcus. Dom!Dave. Daddy Kink. Derogatory talk. Praise kink. Little sprinkling of Soft!Dave. Porn with too many feelings that these idiot men don't know what to do with (we'll work on them, ok?). Infidelity-ish (again, these three got some shit to work out).
MASSIVE thank you for @janaispunk for beta'ing and being my sounding board.
Page dividers by the generous and talented @saradika-graphics
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When restfulness fails to come for Dave he eventually decides to pull himself away from the two sleeping forms next to him in the bed and head off to the shower instead. He could use a thorough washing, and not to mention the relaxing spray and solace of the shower may just offer him a bit of a chance to clear his head, hopefully.
Letting out a heavy sigh once he reaches the bathroom near the front entryway of the suite he shrugs off the oversized fluffy hotel robe and hangs it on the back of the door before closing it shut, reaching inside the shower stall and turning the temperature up to near scalding. He hisses the moment he steps inside the large enclosure, immediately turning his back to the water and facing the door instead but within a few seconds the temperature starts to feel perfect and he rolls his shoulders and aching muscles under the steady beat of the massaging spray.
“Fuck” he groans, head tilting back to let the water wash over his face and through his hair. In hindsight he maybe should’ve had a cold shower because he’s been rocking a semi for the last
 god knows
 since not long after his two bedmates had fallen asleep. He resists the urge to wrap his fist around himself and take care of it solo, thinking he can will it away with sheer mental focus instead. As if he could focus on much of anything right now. His mind was scrambled, and that just wasn’t Dave. He had an innate ability to compartmentalize, always had. It’s what made him so good at his job and had gotten him through many obstacles in his life thus far. But then he met fucking Marcus Pike, which ultimately, also led him to you, and now here he was playing fucking house with what was meant to be a one or two time fun “hookup” and goddamit if he didn’t feel himself starting to fall. What’s worse is that he hadn’t just fallen for you, either. Annoyed with himself yet again for not being able to shut his brain off, Dave turns around to face the spray again and gets to the task of washing his hair instead, needing something else to focus on besides the insistent need that’s hanging between his legs.
The quiet ‘snick’ of the bathroom door latching shut catches Dave’s attention, even with his head under the hot spray of the water in the oversized walk-in shower, because of course it does. Dave is always super aware and hyper vigilant, even when in a relaxed environment. His eyes squeezed shut as he rinses the shampoo from his hair and back turned to the door he calls out, “it’ll be all yours in a minute, almost done here”
So when he hears the sound of the glass door sliding open and the cool air hitting his back, despite his offer to give up the shower momentarily, he chuckles. A low, raspy laugh from deep in his throat as he pushes his hair back on his head and finally turns around, his eyebrow raising in amusement as his gaze settles on his unexpected visitor standing just outside the shower door.
“Well, what have we here?”
Marcus doesn’t say a word. Too nervous he’ll psyche himself out if he attempts to speak. Instead he unwraps the towel from around his waist, leaving him fully naked and exposed, and tosses it to the ground behind him before stepping inside the enclosure and sliding the glass door shut behind him.
Dave waits, stock still, because he hadn’t been expecting this. Not that he should be too surprised, he supposed. It was probably bound to happen and truth be told he was far from mad about it. Over time he’d grown to care for Marcus a lot, and more than what he knew was realistic for a ‘friendship’. And with the fondness for Marcus growing so did the sexual tension, he supposed. It wasn’t immediate, as he had felt with you, but as he spent more and more time with both of you Marcus had unknowingly carved out a spot for himself under Dave’s skin, just as you had on that very first night he’d met you. It started out slowly, he would feel his own arousal spike watching Marcus get pleasure but he had chalked that up to being natural, not unlike getting off to watching porn. But then it started to change, and Dave began to wonder what it might be like for him to give Marcus that pleasure and earlier this evening he gave in and did exactly that. Holding his hands around Marcus as the younger man submitted to him and came with Dave’s mouth at his ear nearly had Dave spilling inside of you the moment Marcus let go. He loved hearing the sweet cries from Marcus’ perfect pouty lips as Dave held him tight to his naked chest. And the way you looked up at both of them, pure lust and adoration in your gaze he felt his chest constrict around his heart like it might just explode.
In that moment he wanted to just gather you both in his arms and tell you, beg you, to keep him.
And now, here Marcus stood just inches away from him, naked and vulnerable.
Dave was well and truly fucked.
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Swallowing the thick lump in his throat from his nerves, Marcus carefully, slowly and wordlessly sinks to his knees in front of Dave and pauses. Peering up at him with those honeyed brown eyes, silently begging for whatever had come over him to be reciprocated. He’d woken up when he felt the weight under the mattress shift when Dave had gotten up and watched with more focus than what was probably considered appropriate at the back side of Dave’s naked form as he crossed the room and snagged a robe from the back of the door and threw it on. Marcus had to stifle a groan as he felt his cock instantly begin to swell at just the sight of the slightly older man before him. Once he exited the bedroom Marcus let out a sigh and dropped his head back to the pillow with a heavy thud, closing his eyes and focusing his breathing for a few seconds but still, his dick betrayed him. He rolled over to his side and watched your sleeping form, debating whether he should wake you to help him with his little situation or not but quickly dismissed the notion. He knew you must be exhausted, it wasn’t like you to be sleeping in the middle of the day so clearly you were worn out. Plus he’s pretty sure the actual reason for his current state of arousal just walked out the bedroom door anyway.
He lays in bed for as long as he can stand it, until he hears the shower come to life on the other side of the suite and his cock twitches again involuntarily, his mind conjuring up images of Dave naked and letting the hot spray of the water cascade all over his body and suddenly Marcus feels jealous over a fucking shower head of all things. Before long he finds himself getting up and out of bed, quickly tying a discarded towel around his waist before he leaves the bedroom and makes his way through the suite.
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A grin spreads across Dave’s lips as the hot water continues to beat down his back and he reaches a hand forward, gripping the younger man’s jaw in his hand and angling him further upward as his thumb gently caresses back and forth at his cheek as he rasps out, “Well what are you waiting for, Champ? This cock isn’t going to suck itself”
After taking in a quick deep breath to steel his nerves, Marcus, ever obedient, presses forward. His eyes close as he takes Dave’s semi-hard length into his mouth, his lips wrapping around him as he finds his footing, as it were, never having actually done this before.
“Eyes on me Slugger” Dave tuts, hand going underneath Marcus’ chin and forcing his gaze upwards with the flick of a single knuckle. Marcus’ gaze is weak as he tries desperately to hold Dave’s but when he feels Dave begin to grow and swell against his tongue he gets a newfound confidence and can’t help the low moan that leaves his throat as he envelops him further into his mouth and finally begins to move his tongue and lips around him, licking and sucking and tasting every inch offered to him. He may not know exactly what he’s doing, but he does know what feels good to him and tries his best to mimic those same behaviors.
He pulls off for just a moment, collecting saliva in the back of his throat and messily spitting onto Dave’s length before he wraps his mouth around it again and begins to bob his head back and forth, letting his tongue drag along the underside as he swallows him down the best he can, easing off only slightly when the thick head of him nears too far to the back of his throat and causes him to momentarily gag before he resituates himself to a comfortable feel and can enthusiastically continue.
“Fuck, that’s it. Good boy,” Dave sighs, hand pushing through Marcus’ golden brown locks and a little whimper escapes Marcus at the subtle praise, eyelids fluttering shut for only a moment before he remembers Dave’s words from earlier and opens them again to hold Dave’s gaze. “You suck cock almost as good as your wife, you know that pretty boy?” Dave teases and despite himself, it only turns Marcus further on. He takes one hand and wraps it around the base of Dave’s cock to pump as much as his shaft that won’t fit in his mouth while the other hand goes to his own aching need as he begins stroking himself to the same pace that his head bobs.
“Fuck” Dave curses again, a little breathless this time as his head tilts back into the spray of water. He wraps his hand around the back of Marcus’ head and helps him by setting the pace that he wants, fast and rough and nearly hitting the back of Marcus’ throat each time his hips jut forward. Marcus does his best to take him but before long he’s coughing, sputtering, gagging and gasping for breath as he pulls off of him after just a few short seconds of Dave fucking his throat, a long strand of saliva still connecting him to the now rock hard cock in his face and Dave lets out a little chuckle at Marcus’ obvious inexperience.
“Well, maybe you could learn a thing or two” Dave laughs. “Up,” he commands suddenly, hand gripping under Marcus’ bicep and hauling him quickly to his feet. Marcus goes willingly, all too eager to comply as Dave turns him to face the wall, grabs both of his hands and forces them above his head and flat against the warm tiles. Dave quickly crowds his space, stepping up behind him, the hot, hard length of him pressed right up against Marcus’ lower back.
His breathing laboured, Marcus tenses momentarily but then relaxes as he feels a large wet hand slide down his side, across the smooth skin of his hip and lower still until it ghosts over the globes of his ass and then back up to hold firmly at his hip again as Dave leans forward, breath hot against Marcus’ ear.
“Colour?” He asks and Marcus takes a steadying breath.
“Green. Uh
 green. I - I think” he stammers out nervously. Dave hums before his hand snakes forward to grasp around Marcus’ hard, leaking cock and gives it a light squeeze that has Marcus whimpering.
“I’d say you’re doing just fine” Dave taunts before he languidly strokes Marcus a few times, causing his knees to nearly buckle as a desperate whine escapes his lips.
“I’m uh.. I’ve never.. with
” Marcus trails off, his eyes squeezing shut when Dave gently ruts into his back, his hand still slowly stroking him. “H-Have you?”
“When you’re young and in your prime and stuck in the service for twelve plus months at a time, a warm mouth is a warm mouth” Dave shrugs nonchalantly. “But it’s not something I indulged in often, or ever pursued outside of that environment” he adds, still slowly working Marcus over with shallow pumps of his fist. “Truth be told I’ve never looked at or even thought twice about another man. That is, until you”. He finishes the last part quietly, like it's a secret he can’t voice out loud.
“S-same here” Marcus stutters, eyes squeezed shut as he focuses on his breathing, hoping to stave off his orgasm for at least a little while longer. “Did you ever, ah fuck” Marcus groans, trailing off as his train of thought leaves him when Daves hand comes up to pay special attention to the head of his cock, his hand twisting just right over and over again at the sensitive tip.
“Did I ever what? Hmmm?” Dave taunts, hand stilling around Marcus as he lowers his hips slightly and presses further against him, his stiff length now pressing into the meat of Marcus’ asscheek. “Did I ever fuck a man’s tight little asshole?” He asks into the shell of Marcus’ ear and Marcus shudders before biting back a moan and nodding his head.
“No” Dave answers honestly. “Why, did you want to be the first?” He chuckles, rutting into him and Marcus lets out a stuttering gasp before shaking his head against the tiles.
“I don’t think
 I’m not
 No. I
 I don’t know” Marcus answers helplessly, his shoulders tensing.
“Relax baby, relax” Dave soothes, pulling his hips back slightly but resting his forehead on Marcus’ shoulder. “You don’t have to be ready for that right now. And to be honest, if my cock is going to be in your ass then I want yours inside your wife so I can fuck you both at the same time” he chuckles darkly into the heated skin of Marcus’ back and a shiver passes through Marcus’ whole body at just the thought of that.
“Oh you like that don’t you” Dave laughs again. Feeling Marcus twitch in his hand gets Dave’s dominant confidence swelling in his chest again and he easily slips into the role he prefers to play, where he feels the most comfortable and less vulnerable.
“Wanna be the meat in our little fuck sandwich, sweet boy?” Dave taunts, his hand going back to slowly stroking Marcus again. “You gonna fuck your tight little ass against my fat cock while you’re buried inside of her?”
“Jesus, fuck” Marcus groans. He’d never once judged his wife for what she was into, but now he understood it first hand. The way Dave could have you falling apart just by the words that leave his mouth.
“Maybe a little friendly competition, see who can cum inside of who first” he laughs darkly and Marcus’ whole body shudders as a wrecked moan escapes him.
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Dave hands picks up the pace a little as Marcus squeezes his eyes shut, face resting against his own forearm and teeth clenched as Dave draws him closer and closer to that edge he’s been teetering on since he sunk to his knees in front of the man in question just minutes ago.
He didn’t know what came over him, what possessed him to get out of bed and follow after Dave, but he couldn’t get what happened earlier out of his head. The way Dave had wrapped his hand around his throat, called him his good boy, and made him cum so hard his vision nearly blacked out. He needed more. Dave was like a drug, he understood it now. An addiction, a craving that could never be satisfied, always leaving you wanting more.
His breath catches in his throat when he feels Dave’s free hand that’s not currently wrapped around him back at his ass, a single finger sliding through the cleft of his wet cheeks until it stops to tease at his hole. The pad of his finger presses at the puckered flesh but doesn’t breach inside, just wanting to rile Marcus up and it is absolutely working as the younger man whimpers and squirms under Dave’s hands. Dave shifts slightly so that the water beats down more so on Marcus, ensuring he’s not dry as Dave continues to tease him.
“Colour” Dave demands again, finger pressing in again with just a fraction more pressure than the previous time.
“Green, fuck. Please” Marcus is trembling, his body leaning against the wall the only thing holding him upright and he feels the smirk reach across Dave’s face from where his mouth is still pressed to his ear.
“That’s my good boy” Dave chuckles. The sound of Dave spitting a giant glob of saliva between Marcus’ cheeks is downright sinful as it echoes off the four walls of the shower enclosure and Marcus has to bite into the meat of his own arm to keep from moaning too loudly when Dave finally pushes a single saliva slicked finger just inside as he continues to stroke Marcus’ length with delicate precision.
“Oh my god, oh fuck! I’m - ” Marcus cries out at the welcomed intrusion of Dave’s finger, barely inside but slowly moving back and forth creating just enough of a foreign pressure that it’s enough to push Marcus over that edge within seconds. He orgasms with a wrangled cry leaving his lips, spurts of his warm spend splattering onto the tiles in front of him and down Dave’s hand that still loosely grips him as he continues to pump him dry.
“That’s it” Dave’s voice soothes against his ear, still gently working him over with both hands as Marcus comes down from his high. “So good for your Daddy, hmmm?”
“Mmmhmmm, fuck” Marcus groans out once more, leaning heavily into the tiles now, shoulders and chest heaving with each laboured breath he takes. He lets out another whimper as Dave gently slips his finger out, sighs happily when he feels Dave’s lips press into his shoulder blade.
“Okay?” Dave breathes against Marcus' warm flesh, checking in with him and the younger man can do little but eagerly nod his head, still trembling in the aftershocks of his orgasm. Dave’s hand still wrapped around Marcus’ length finally slows to a stop and he releases him fully, both arms coming up to wrap around Marcus’ middle and hold him tight against his chest for a long moment and Marcus sighs happily, sated, leaning into the warmth Dave offers. He does his best to ignore the little flutter he feels in his chest as Dave's lips continue to pepper little kisses across the back of his neck and shoulders, wills his own heart to stop hammering in his chest when Dave breathes in deep and then rests his check against Marcus' back, apparently content to just hold him until his own breathing evens out.
“What um
 what about you?” Marcus asks meekly. He hadn’t exactly gotten to finish what he’d started earlier once the attention shifted to him and his own pleasure. He can still feel Dave pressed into his back, though with the delay for his own gratification Dave has softened somewhat again, his needs seemingly less urgent now.
“Let me finish getting cleaned up in here and then why don’t we meet back in bed, hmm?” He finishes his thought with a sharp little smack to Marcus’ ass and chuckles before he bites down gently onto his shoulder. “See if you can wake up that wife of yours while you’re at it”
“Yeah, o-okay” Marcus stammers, stealing himself for a moment before he heaves a deep sigh, lets his shoulders relax and finally reaches for the shower door and slides it open. Dave lets him go, watches with piqued interest as Marcus bends over to pick up his earlier discarded towel and secure it back around his waist again, and then, he’s gone. Door closing shut behind him again and leaving Dave to finish his shower in privacy.
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Dave is doing his best to act nonchalant, normal, though nothing about what just took place was normal for either of them. He’d never held another man in an embrace like that before and found himself not even wanting to let go. It took everything in him not to spin Marcus around and hold him even closer. And it wasn’t just sexual, this feeling he suddenly had. Though that part was definitely good too, but now he felt himself feeling suddenly nervous about going back out there, like he was completely transparent and the two of you would see through him immediately. He dreads the day, and he has a feeling it’s coming soon, that the two of you extract yourselves from his life. He knows the texts and visits will become fewer and farther between until suddenly he stops hearing from you all together and he’ll go back to his life before the two of you were in it, wishing he’d never gone along with it in the first place because then he wouldn’t be in the fucking predicament he found himself in now.
He should put a stop to this himself before that happens, he thinks. Like a bandaid, just rip it off and the pain will dissipate before he even notices it’s there, right? He can fake a work emergency, or say somethings come up with his children and he needs to cut this weekend short. You’ll both understand, of course you will. Maybe even be secretly relieved that you can spend the rest of your time here together with just the two of you.
He’s doing everyone a favour, he thinks.
Mind made up, he takes a little extra time than necessary in the shower, turning the temperature way down to hopefully rid him of what’s left of his hard-on and finishes cleaning himself off, being sure to scrub every inch of his body to wash away any lingering traces of this weekend from his skin, hopefully soon enough from his memory. He takes the removable shower hose off the fixture as well and sprays down the tiles where Marcus’ cum still lingers, watching it wash down the drain past his feet and then hangs the shower head back up and finally turns the taps off and steps out.
Speech fully prepared in his head, what he didn’t expect was to walk back into the bedroom to see you with a very worried expression on your face and for a moment, he feels his heart literally fall into his stomach. Did Marcus just confess what happened and you’re so enraged you’re about to throw him out on his ass? Throw your husband out too? Likely not the latter, he thinks. If anything it’s probably further cementing the fact that the two of you need Dave out of your lives, he’s only going to cause problems in what is a beautiful, perfect marriage.
“You have to go?!” He hears you say and oh. So Marcus is leaving? He asks what’s going on and then just hangs back after Marcus responds to him but then focuses his attention back to you, Dave idly listening to the conversation in the background as your husband continues to apologize to you about an apparent “work emergency” that’s come up.
Dave was already set in his decision to leave, but with Marcus going he knows he really,ïżœïżœreally needs to leave. Being alone with you might just kill him, and he doesn’t deserve a death that blissful, he reasons with himself.
Not long after saying an endearing goodbye to you, Marcus brushes past Dave with a vague ‘see ya later’ and just like that, he’s gone and Dave is left alone with the person currently possessing the other half of his traitorous heart. The heart that wasn’t supposed to fall for either of these two people who already belonged to each other, let alone apparently falling for both of them.
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Marcus is in the cab, half way back to his own house where he most certainly does not have any type of work emergency waiting for him, when he starts an inner battle with himself about just what in the fuck he is doing. Should he have left? Should he turn around right now and go back and stop being a fucking coward? What the hell was he supposed to do?
He felt so fucking guilty the moment his orgasm ripped through him like a freight train with Dave’s hands on him and you nowhere in sight that he just couldn’t get out of that hotel room fast enough. He had cheated on you, in his mind. What’s worse is that it wasn’t even all sexual, though that is how it started and how he pursued it but his feelings for Dave were beginning to get overwhelming and he thought maybe if he just ‘got it out of his system’ he could forget about it and move on, but then Dave had to go and fucking hold him afterwards and asked him back to bed and his throat just plummeted into his stomach. How could he just walk out of that bathroom and pretend that never happened? Is that what Dave wanted? Or did Dave want you to know exactly what happened? How would you react? Marcus didn’t even have his own feelings about the whole thing sorted out, he couldn’t expect you to understand. He crossed a line, that much he knew.
Ultimately he decided to let the cab driver continue to their destination. He was already well on his way home anyway, might as well keep going. He’d fix himself some dinner, maybe a drink and just have some time alone to sort out his thoughts before he joins you back at the hotel. He briefly wonders if Dave will still be there when he gets back. If he is, maybe it would be a good time for the three of you to have a conversation, one that’s surely long overdue. Marcus hopes he doesn’t have to speak first. What if he voices what he thinks he’s truly feeling and you all look at him like he’s grown a second head?
He’s equally worried at both ends. He’s worried that Dave, despite the tender moments he is occasionally capable of showing, might laugh the whole thing off. He signed up to be a fun ‘playmate’ for a couple of weekends here and there, not a more permanent fixture in an already existing and functioning marriage. And you
 what would you even think? Sure Marcus knows you’ve warmed to Dave over the months during your encounters but you’d never discussed with Marcus that you’d felt anything for the man in question outside of sexual desire. Not to mention what would you think of him if he asked you to have another man be an active participant in your relationship? The last thing he wants is you feeling like you’re not enough for him or that something is missing from your marriage.
It would kill him if this drove any kind of rift between the two of you. No, he needs to shut up and keep whatever is in his head and his heart to himself and hope things sort themselves out. He’ll start to distance himself (and hopefully you both) from Dave and you can go back to your lives. He cares about Dave, far more than what he knows is appropriate, but he can’t lose you. He won’t.
Marcus finishes his dinner, accompanied by a rich glass of wine, and waits a while, letting his food settle and his mind attempt to find peace within the waging war that are his thoughts still battling on inside his head. A few hours since he’d left the hotel pass before he finally heads back outside to his car and types the address of the hotel into his GPS.
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Dave York is a bad man. He knows it the moment he reaches the penthouse floor again, not even thirty minutes since he left it, and lifts his fist to knock at the hotel room door. He'd had every intention of getting into his car and leaving this place. Just one drink first, he'd reasoned with himself, then he'd leave.
He knew shouldn’t be here at your door now. Not without Marcus. Though, he supposes he shouldn’t have been in the shower with Marcus without you, either. Marcus knows it, clearly. It’s the only explanation for why he high-tailed it out of there with some half-assed lie of an excuse of having a work emergency on a Saturday night. Dave saw right through it of course but didn’t voice his concern, he certainly wouldn’t do that in front of you. He wouldn’t wedge himself further into the complications of your marriage than he already was.
He’s really fucked this up. But he knows, even before you pull open that door, that tonight is his last chance. The last time he’ll allow himself to see you before he forces himself to go back to his old life so you can have yours back with your husband. And if he was a better man, he would’ve just left earlier when he said he was going to and not come to see you one last time, knowing full well what he was doing and feeling and how it might affect you. How it might affect Marcus, and moreover how it might affect your relationship with Marcus.
But Dave York was not a better man. Not a good man.
Dave York was a bad, bad man.
"Hi" you breathe out the moment the door swings open and lands on him leaning against the frame on the other side.
"Hi"
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Marcus lets himself into the hotel suite, quietly and carefully making his way through the rooms that are bathed in darkness, only slivers of moonlight peaking through where the curtains aren’t fully shut. Pushing open the double doors to the bedroom he frowns but is otherwise not surprised to find you sleeping alone in the bed that now seems comically oversized for just your body alone, especially given how crowded it was only hours earlier.
He glances around the room, pulling out his phone and turning on the flashlight, making sure not to shine it on you so as to not wake you up. He tilts it around the room, looking everywhere but there's no sign of Dave. His belongings seem to be gone, his duffel bag no longer occupying the corner of the bedroom where it was before. Marcus had walked through the living room to get to the bedroom so he knows he wasn’t asleep on the couch either.
Dave was gone.
Clicking off the flashlight and before he can talk himself out of doing so, Marcus taps on the Messages icon on his screen, wanting to send a quick text to your group chat, just to ensure wherever Dave was, everything was OK.
Once again Marcus gets that all too familiar feeling of his throat falling into the pit of his stomach when he reads the tiny grayed out letters that greet him at the bottom of your conversation.
Dave York has left the group.
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Dun Dun Dunnnnnn! I am so sorry, but believe it or not this was my plan for this series all along from the moment you guys lovingly bullied me into turning my one-shot into a series, lol. Fear not though, we haven't seen the last of our dear Dave. He's just a bit of an idiot, and is going to continue to be one for a little while, but have faith in me.
Next Chapter
I really appreciate you taking the time to read this chapter! If you liked it please leave me a little note or a reblog, it means the world to me!
Taglist (if you want to be added - or removed!, lmk!) @senaar-ika @suzdin @boliv-jenta @prolix-yuy @vabeachazn @seasonalobession @pedroshotwifey @nerdieforpedro @chronically-ghosted @macabremads @survivingandenduring @theywhowriteandknowthings @axshadows @iamasaddie @vickywallace @lincolndjarin @its-nebuleuse @janaispunk @missladym1981 @heareball @staywildflowahchild @guelyury @anotherpedrolover @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @runningmom94 @yorksgirl @harrington-thedad @missyorkswhore @disassociation-daydreams
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pouletaulait · 6 months ago
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"Do you even intend to quit – not really" 🧐
After reading Chapter 58 I thought about this exchange between Yashiro and Kage for a bit:
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At first sight this might suggest that Yashiro actually considers staying in the Yakuza. I think based on what we know and how this statement is framed though, I come to the conclusion that this suggests the exact opposite in fact; Yashiro’s reluctance to stay in the Yakuza shines through yet again.
Granted, in the above scene Yashiro does in fact say that he doesn’t really want to quit BUT what he said before that stood out to me. Confronted by Kage about how he’s still affiliated with the Yakuza he first diverts his question by saying „don’t say things as if you’re an ordinary person“; I think this points out that Yashiro doesn’t like to think of himself as that different from Kage (or „civilian“ people in general, probably), he’s sorta putting the two of them onto the same level
 outwardly he appears to lower Kage’s „status“ as a law-abiding citizen to his own, but, objectively speaking they both know that Kage is not in fact a shady person (at least from what I can tell, after all, he doesn’t appear to be affiliated with any „shady“ people apart from Yashiro and Kage always complains about Yashiro dragging him into these affairs). So, what this ends up doing is lifting Yashiro’s status up (I hope I’m phrasing this in a way that makes sense). Anyway, I think what this conveys is that Yashiro still looks down on Yakuza members (he’s definitely not proud of being one) and that he’s still not fully comfortable with people viewing him as a member or even acknowledging his Yakuza-status himself. He then goes on to say that it’s not easy to leave. Now, this could suggest a) that it has been on his mind (which we already know to be true) and b) that he feels the need to justify the fact that he’s still affiliated with them. Only when Kage questions him again Yashiro finally says that he doesn’t REALLY want to leave. His way of phrasing it doesn’t sound super convincing and he probably says that to get Kageyama off his case and also because, if he is honest with himself, he still can’t see himself actually taking that step after all. I know I might be reading too much into this but it stood out to me that Yashiro didn’t just throw Kage a snarky comment like „why the hell wouldn’t I still be a member?“, in the same vein as his first comment „what kind of upstanding guy runs a shady illegal casino?“ Instead he is somewhat opening up to Kage in his own way.
Anyway, this conversation is yet another puzzle piece that plays into the theory I’ve had from the beginning, that Yashiro will leave the Yakuza eventually. From all we know so far, Yashiro has never really come to terms with being a Yakuza and has generally a very negative opinion of them. The topic of Yashiro struggling to accept this role and the re-occurring questioning of what makes a Yakuza, who’s a good Yakuza, who’s not fit to be one, etc. strongly suggests to me that this is an integral part of this story as a whole and is most probably gonna be relevant to the conclusion of the story. It’s made clear that Yashiro never wanted to be Yakuza in the first place and he’s still reluctant, like
 some 20 long years later 😯. I don't want to include too many quotes here because there are far too many instances that could be mentioned and this post is already getting too loooong, as you'll see đŸ«Ł, but there are some I'd like to mention. First I'd like to point to one quote from Yashiro that leads me to believe that to him being a Yakuza is not in fact his real identity but rather a role he is playing. He says to Ryuuzaki in Chapter 5:
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He sees himself more as an actor rather than a real Yakuza and interestingly enough, that’s what he had aspired to become as a teenager: (aspire might be too strong of a word here but I think in a way he really did):
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Now, I know that I'm arguing that Yashiro is talking about himself here ,even though, he's not just referring to himself in his comment to Ryuuzaki but the fact that he talks about Yakuza being just like actors in general and then further generalizing his statement to „people spend their lives acting“ still plays nicely into Yashiro's perception of his own life which will become relevant in a bit *bear with me*; it suggests that he thinks that people are not really free to be themselves because they have to play their role which emphasizes his passive approach to life in general „I have lived my life accepting it all“ (I reference this quote further down).
Every time Misumi tries to drag him in deeper, Yashiro is acting completely reluctant. We first saw this in the very beginning of the story when Misumi and Yashiro talk about the succession and Misumi says to Yashiro „be mine once more“ (Yashiro doesn’t want to give him an answer), when we learn through Hirata’s secret recordings about the details of another conversation between Misumi and Yashiro in Chapter 14 (Yashiro still doesn’t give a straight answer) and we see it again in Chapter 36 when Misumi basically says to Yashiro „don’t forget what you are“ after the time-skip (Yashiro distracts Misumi from the conversation by provoking him). He doesn't agree to anything but he never outright refuses either (he's completely passive).
His reluctance is further demonstrated by the fact that after the time-skip Yashiro’s not really a full member anymore. He used what happened after Hirata’s attack on him to the best of his abilities in a way to distance himself from the group but he couldn’t take the last step. But this clearly points to Yashiro wanting to get out for good.
I think it’s noteworthy that the only time he completely rejects the idea of quitting (as far as I remember), is in Chapter 27 when he speaks to Ryuuzaki in the back of the police car:
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This stands out to me because he says this after he’d made up his mind that he was gonna die. So why keep fighting it at this point? (I’m so glad our cute boy is not in such a dark place anymore 😭)
Yashiro has also tried to keep Doumeki out of this world because he cares so much about him. Unfortunately, he wasn’t successful but the statement Yashiro made about the Yakuza in Chapter 22 becomes relevant again, now that Doumeki got a back tattoo (which as we all know made Yashiro furious beyond belief). Yashiro said something along the lines of „do you have any idea how many upright citizens walk around out there with full body tattoos? And how many Yakuza wear normal business suits?“( I hope this translation is somewhat accurate . I had to take it from the official German translation which is not the most exact at times but the only English translation I could find, didn’t seem to be correct 😅) Basically he’s saying, it’s never too late to quit. This was some unfortunate foreshadowing if you ask me but it gives me hope that Doumeki’s status as a full-fledged member and him getting a tattoo won’t prevent them from leaving the Yakuza world behind.
I just cannot imagine Yoneda-sensei making this aspect such an integral part of Yashiro’s character and bringing this topic up again and again if it isn’t gonna be relevant in the end
 I know it might be a red herring but I really doubt it at this point. I read the manga as a story of a traumatized survivor of SA finding happiness in life (yes, I’m very hopeful that both Doumeki and Yashiro are gonna make it out alive because anything else would be too cruelđŸ«Ł). For Yashiro the Yakuza is a hindrance to his freedom and happiness because it’s not who he truly is as a person and as long as he stays he’s going to be under Misumi’s control and Misumi is gonna try to use him, just like his stepfather and all the other men who SAed him when he was a teenager used him. In a way he’s still this powerless child getting used by others. He was an easy target for Misumi because Yashiro was „completely indifferent about himself“ as Misumi put it. This indifference stems from the abuse he suffered. When Yashiro got shot he remembered the SA and he says: „I have lived my life accepting it all. I’ve felt no sorrow. I’ve blamed no one. My life can’t be said to be anyone else’s fault.“ This expresses exactly what Misumi saw in Yashiro: He’s so broken that he doesn't even feel anger, he is beyond caring about himself, his well-being, his future. Putting it differently; he doesn’t love himself and he doesn’t think that he deserves love or a different, better life. This is why he doesn’t really put up a fight against this fate. He’s still passively accepting everything.
To sum this up, it’s mainly his trauma that prevents him from quitting, just like it keeps him from being able to accept Doumeki’s love. Since I believe this story is about Yashiro overcoming his trauma and finding happiness, I think it would only be fitting that once he’ll be able to accept that he is deserving of love, hope and happiness, he’d finally find the courage to take control of his own fate and break away from the path that he felt forced to follow.
And yes, I'm aware that quitting won't be that easy because of Misumi's obsession over Yashiro BUT even though I don't like Misumi too much and I think he's a creep, he's in his own way quite lenient when it comes to Yashiro, I have to give him that. So, I have high hopes that he actually meant what he said about "caring about Yashiro as a person" and will let him leave without too much trouble.
Of course we don’t know much about Doumeki’s plans for his future but if Yashiro and him end up together (which is what I’m hoping for) he’ll most likely go along with Yashiro’s wishes, I guess 😉 And I know, sweet Nanahara would be disappointed but I bet Yashiro and Doumeki would still find a way to adopt their big baby boy into their little family 😜
maybe they’re gonna open up a beach bar in Hawai’i and Nanahara would flirt with the guests and give away all the drinks for free đŸ€Ł
On a more serious note, I hope I didn’t get any of the quotes completely wrong. Nuances tend to get lost in translation so it’s kinda "risky" to base a theory like this solely on translations but most of it comes down to my personal interpretation of the story anyways. And I’m sorry if most of this seemed too obvious but I got the impression that I seem to feel more strongly about the fact that Yashiro might gonna leave his days as a Yakuza behind than others in the fandom and I felt the need to present my case 😉
If you actually made it through my ramblings to down here, you deserve some đŸȘđŸȘđŸȘ 😘
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an-aroaces-harem · 10 days ago
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After reading Ellis' current event route finally without a translator right before I went to sleep, my mind went to interesting places in the 'trying-to-fall-asleep-phase'. Especially because they kept a certain scene in and it wasn't in awkward japanese euphemisms. Let me tell you, japanese smut is very ... interesting?
Anyway, everything under the cut because sexual territory.
You know, I started to wonder if Kate's the most sexual and um, open MC we have so far. So my mind tried to puzzle together the info of the other MCs I have. If I missed anything (especially ikerev and ikegen) feel free to correct me.
Also, as a note, I mostly referring to how the MCs were like prior to becoming a couple because in basically every game, the moment they start to date, the horny levels rise high.
In IkeRev, we have Alice and while she is older than she looks, considering the time period she grew up, she pretty much was a virgin prior to falling into Cradle. I haven't played much ikerev, so my knowledge is really limited, but while she seemed quite innocent, she also didn't freak out before doing the deed. Also, Seth's route, just saying.
In IkeSen we have Mai who's undoubtly the horniest we had so far. I don't think it was ever mentioned anywhere but I don't think she was a virgin prior to travelling back into time. Also, there was a event (I don't recall which one) where Mai and Masamune are definitely 69ing. Oh, she definitely initiates which is surprising considering how the japanese archetype of a woman is like.
In IkeVamp, we have Mitsuki. I'm gonna be honest, I don't like her and please, please someone take that ugly, plain white bra away from her. Anyway, I'm pretty sure she mentioned she wasn't a virgin anymore; it was just a little comment after (probably) Arthur assumed she had to be one. Who can blame him tho, she does seem rather innocent. At least we've got canon big boy #1, Theo.
In IkeGen, we have Yoshino. My knowledge is super limited, but I do know there was an occurence of Yoritomo teaching her how to do a blowjob. Oh, and prior to ikevil, Ibuki held the title of earliest sex scene and highest amount of sex I believe as well. Could be wrong there.
In IkePri, we have Emma who definitely is a virgin, considering her 'romance has to be like THIS' schtick she had especially in the beginning. Also, her topping attempts never succeeded (tho it's less her and more the writers' fault) and I don't think I have seen her initiating? She is kinky tho, considering how much she's into biting in Chev's and Gilbert's routes.
And then, we have IkeVil. Kate touched herself in Ellis' premium end in the handcuff event and I really wonder, did we ever have a MC doing that? Also, the amount of suggestive content prior to a route release is insane (I'm sorry Victor stans, I know you have it hard with the few crumbs). I do think she was a virgin prior to all of this, she she's rather open from what I've seen. Seriously, lets list up what ikevil presented us so far: William and Kate having sex in chapter 10.5 prior to a relationship, Alfons overtaking Ibuki's record, Roger being canonically big boy #2, the handjob from Kate to Ellis from the every inch of you ecb story, Jude having an actual sex scene (outside from AU stories) way before his release, Harry complaining that he's totally pent up after not having sex for ONE day, Harry and Kate probably 69ing as well, the vore stuff from seams like love and the list goes on ...
Maybe I'm just biased because imo, ikevil is the best game Cybird made so far yet. The stories are intriguing, and the story events don't feel like I'm reading the same over and over, just in a different context. Hell, not even the Don't Look At Anyone But Me event turned me off, even though I hate the jealousy trope in basically every form.
Anyway, that's what my sleep-addled brain came up with. Mai may be the horniest one, but Kate has so far showing more kinky sides, so they're pretty much on par. Again, if I missed something, confused something or anything else, feel free to let me know.
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ask-the-critters-survival-au · 8 months ago
Note
Static breaks out from the Monitor's speakers...
"Ah, I am sorry young one. There is a delay in these messages. I would have tried to time it better if I could have. And to you, loving one, I am sorry as well... but please give me a moment. There is another child that requires my voice. I will however try to let you listen in on what I can, rest assured of that."
Static spikes as magic twists and pulls. An attempt is made to allow Picky's voice to pass through the medium's speakers- but if failure on that front occurs... Then only the voice from the monitor shall be heard.
"Child- I cannot reassure you- cannot give you proof. If you were to even dare to say to Catnap that Dogday is trapped within the Playhouse... He will do far worse to you then he did Kickin. He is not ready to be saved yet. He will not listen to reason yet. The prototype still enthralls his mind. I wish not to make a deal with you either- To ask to see Dogday's whereabout would cost you your eyes child- if not more. That is not something I wish to take from you."
"I promise you this- I will do all in my limited power to save him. That is my oath to you children. That is what I hope my fellows swear as well. To keep all 8 of you destined children breathing, you 8 stars who now find yourself upon a stage after 10 years of plans and schemes and tragedy begin to finalize as the first act of this story's finale arrives. You who's very fate lays connected- where one death may lead to loss of you all." "I swear to you that even if the worst is to come and á”á‹đŒƒ'𐌔 đŒ‚â¶ŽêŠáŠđŒ„ïżœïżœ truly does descend these hallowed halls, I will do my best to arm you against their divine march. That is how far I, and I hope my fellows are willing to aid you- for however much that means to you child. Please. For all of your sakes. Stop this purist of your fellow star. I beg and grovel to you. Please."
Static shifts and churns once more as once Picky's response may or may not be sent through old speakers- the connection is changed so that only Bobby and Hoppy may hear these next words.
"You have questions Bobby... You must. I hope you heard all of what I spoke of earlier... and Hoppy I hope can tell you of everything that has happened leading up to this as well as the rules of the magic that allows all of this to occur. I ask this of you Hoppy, no secrets. Please."
"Ask away your questions once your friend fills you in Bobby. Me and my fellows will do out best to answer as best as we can- but there are delays and the warping of time with these messages. Apologies if your responses are not post haste."
"Talk with you both soon... be safe."
(Let's be honest here. The Player's objectively horrifying if you take game mechanics into account- and even without them their luck is just- What do you do against that? Let's hope God's Chosen doesn't show up gang- Cause that would be really bad. Hope just hinting at the Player is okay with you mod! Have a great day!)
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I don’t believe you. DogDay turned tail and fled. Left us. Like a COWARD. I am going to find that rabbit. And I am going to rip her limb from limb. And once I am finished, DogDay is next.
Meanwhile

Thank you so much. You are far too kind.
(They did not hear either the voice from the monitor or Picky speaking)
[Mod note: Still indecisive about the player, but thank you for that anyways! Have a great day as well.]
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ghostoffuturespast · 11 months ago
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Works In Progress 2023: A Cyberpunk 2077 Year In Review
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I thought for a hot minute about doing one of those snazzy templates that’s been going around, but editing photos just ain’t my MO and rather than going by month I picked 12 favs that I’ve posted in 2023. Some of them were popular, some of them weren't. Overall, I think I did pretty good for just doing vanilla photomode on console.
You might be wondering why there's a picture of a sticky note. I don't remember when I started doing this, and I'm horribly inconsistent as you can see by the dates, but I'll jot down my word count for my wip chapter and then jot it down again when I remember to later.
I write slow. A lot of times I sit down to write and it feels like the wheels are spinning in place. My minutes and hours don't stretch very far, typically don't add up to much. But days, weeks, months. That's when I can at least measure the progress.
Fic: So It Goes 40/44 - 438,946 words
My V x River Ward and tinfoil hat conspiracy theory long fic. I've spent way more hours on this then I have on any of my VP.
I got tagged by @just-a-cybercroissant @therealnightcity and @wanderingaldecaldo to do some WIP Whenevers. I post my VP pretty regularly, so it’s always seemed silly to do work in progress posts for them, and I don’t know when I’ll have any new writing to share since in between work and the holidays, I haven’t had much time to sit down with anything since my last chapter update. And I've been feeling very... stingy, lately. Especially when it comes to mine and other people's writing. So take this WIP/Year In Review as my offering. Both these series, as am I, are all very much still works in progress. 
I confined my reflections for this year below the cut. If you don’t want to read my long-ass essays, you can admire the pictures, maybe check out my fic, or just move along and have yourself a lovely day.
We’ll start with the easy one.
VP
After at least a year of multiple playthroughs (I’ve played all the lifepaths, done all the endings), it only occurred to me at the beginning of this year to start taking VP. Part of the reason I never did before was because I didn’t realize it was a thing and then by the time I did, I figured I didn’t have much to offer. I play on PS5 and only have access to vanilla photomode, so seeing everyone else’s high-fidelity, ultra ray-tracing, modded, posed, full on virtual photo shoot photos, I was like there’s no way. (Not that I’m hating on PC modders, it’s just not everyone has access to mods or a PC capable of running the game, and I’m all for making art and creative endeavors accessible.) On top of that, all I’d ever heard from most other folks was how much vanilla photomode sucked. In the glamorous world of VP, I didn’t think there was any room for me.
But I started snapping pics anyway. And sure, there are a lot of limitations with vanilla photomode. But what that really translates to is opportunities to get creative. I am also a hoe for subverting people’s expectations, and very much believe when there’s a will, there’s a way.
Environmental and landscape shots were my first subjects before I started branching out into portraits and then capturing story moments. Through VP I found an entirely new way to enjoy a game that I’d already played a ridiculous number of times along with also finally being brave enough to share my V with other people too. I’d always worried about that before, if people would like her. Granted, I know Grandpa’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but whether you like her or not, I certainly think she’s made a name for herself over the past few months. Even if most people haven’t really gotten to know her the way I’d hoped. 
I’ve taken hundreds of photos this past year. Most of which I’ll never share. There’s a lot of flops, a lot of weird experiments, ones that didn’t quite turn out the way I’d hoped, but I’ve learned something from every single one of them. I know how to spot good lighting, frame shots to create optical illusions, get a very limited toolkit to work in my favor, parkoured on all of the things, and heck, I even figured out how to make Grandpa smooch other NPCs. I’ve done atmospheric, mundane, down right goofy, as well as things that most people probably thought weren’t fucking possible.
I can’t say how long I’ll keep doing this, I’m sure I’ll move on at some point, but for now I’m still enjoying myself. There's a lot to explore in this game and I just can’t stop digging Night City.
Now, for the more complicated thing.
Writing
So It Goes
 My peace, my war, my greedy and most ravenous of ghosts.
I’m operating under the assumption that most people following me here probably haven't read my fic or aren’t all that interested in reading it to begin with. It’s fine. But you need to understand this fic, my writing, is the main thing that brought me here. This is also Grandpa V’s story. Most of you have met her, but unless you've been reading, most of you do not know her.
I wrote around 185,000 words and posted 10 chapters this year. 2022 was about 253,000 words and 30 chapters, along with several unrelated one shots. However, I don’t think I’ve done a single chapter this year that was less then 10k, and my longest managed to hit 27k. As of the last update I posted, the fic is currently sitting at around 439k words, 40 chapters, and still isn’t done.
I have four more chapters to write. I have written a metric shit ton of words. This is, by far, the longest and most intense creative project I’ve ever endeavored to complete.
When I started writing, I was expecting this fic to be around 100-150k. That seemed to be the average for most long fics. I did not plan on being an outlier. I'm not sure you can ever really plan for that, but I guess I enjoy subverting my own expectations too.
For those of you who are reading my fic, it is my sincerest hope that it shatters every expectation of where you think it’s going. It’s not a joke that I tagged my fic “#an ode to my tinfoil hat”. An ode it has turned out to be. I’ve been sitting on this theory for two years. I have told no one about it. I hope it sticks the landing and hits the way I want it to. I don't know if it will. But fuck, I just want to be done with it so I can move on with my life, take a break, and give myself the opportunity to make and focus on other things before I have to get back on the damn horse.
I wrote less this past year then I did in 2022. I had a lot of life changes, most of which were good, but with times of change come times of adjustment. Along with some realizations that maybe you don’t understand as much as you thought you did. Looking back, I’ve been in a state of unsettled, kuzushi, for a really long time. Which is not a good place to be. It’s how your ass ends up on the ground with a knee knocking out all your teeth. I thought I knew better. Thought I had enough practice to get away from it. But bad habits have good memories.
I think given the circumstances, I accomplished a lot with my writing this year. I don’t know if my writing is exactly where I want it to be. I doubt it every will be, but it’s evolved, grown, and I wrote a pretty hefty stack of words considering I started working full-time again, bought a house with my partner, moved, and have been dealing with the millions of other beans that life tends to throw one’s way. That being said, and for full disclosure, I’ve also been dealing with some of the worst cases of jealousy and envy I’ve had since I was a teenager. 
Frankly, it sucks. They walk with me every fucking where I go, hold my hands to whisper back all my doubts. Try to persuade me to my baser instincts, to be cruel and lash out. But that's not aikido. Luckily, I’m not 16 anymore so it’s at least been easier for me to identify the problem. Though I’m still coming up short in terms of actually being able to do anything about it, and will be for at least a few months more. 
Yeah, I keep talking about it because I don’t know how many people know that I've been feeling this way. And I’m tired of not talking about it in a room full of creatives, because yeah, I know I’m not the only one that feels this way. And not talking about it just makes all that pent up resentment worse for everyone.
Don’t get me wrong, I love writing. But with the way I work and think, it’s a slow, tedious, and incredibly time-consuming art. With how much my fic has snowballed over the course of writing, it’s left very little room for the other hobbies in my life. And as my fellow writers probably already know, writing is an incredibly insular craft. And unlike a picture or an image, which only requires a glance, reading a bunch of words requires time and commitment.
So, when you put yourself out there and share what you wrote, it’s a lonely feeling not knowing whether or not anyone connected with what you put on the page. Especially, when the people who do read aren’t compelled to voice anything and when the people you’d hope would read don’t. And then you're stuck in the dark, not knowing, because neither of us says a goddamn thing.
I started writing this fic prior to actually joining the CP2077 fandom. And I joined the fandom because I felt alone. I’ve been here a while now, albeit in a few different places, and that feeling still hasn’t gone away. I’m still trying to find camaraderie with my fellow writers and carve out something that kinda sort of resembles a home or a sense of community. I watch my peers around me as they seem to build that with each other, except me.
I’m envious of the things that people make and jealous of the relationships those have created and fostered between said people, because for the life of me, it’s been a struggle to cultivate that since I got here. I know it’s selfish, but I also don’t know what about me makes people so hesitant. There have been a handful of strangers that have shown up for me regularly, but as far as people I call friends in this fandom that have shown up and actually stuck around, I can only name one right now. (I know we're all busy. And I acknowledge my writing's not for everyone. I know maybe some of you are quiet, or shy, or probably a thousand other things. I get it. But that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt any less. People will never know unless you say. Never know unless you take the time to interact or engage. Be brave. And that's true for a lot of things.)
The propensity is for the negative to outweigh the positive. I've got a lot of numbers on my fic, so you would think things would be fine, but at this point they just feel empty. They don't bring me any comfort or real satisfaction. And I hate feeling like the people I know don’t care and that most of you are just talking around me. That I’m some kind of annoyance not fit to interact with. Which may or may not be the case. I don’t know. Again, most of you have never said anything. And maybe I need to accept the fact that most of you never will.
But this is me trying to start conversation.
It’s really shitty, knowing that the thing I want the most is also the thing holding me back. I know how to work on it too, not that it’s any guarantee. The problem is I’m still writing and in a needy state of greed. And because I’m slow, I don’t have the time or the energy to be generous. I can only take right now. I can’t give. 
Relationships require both.
I can’t bring myself to read other people’s writing. I can’t comment, or like, or share if I haven’t read anything. I'm desperate for conversation, but I also don't have the time or assurance to facilitate it with other people right now. And for some reason people never seem to want to talk to me, especially when it comes to writing. I want to be part of conversations, talk deeply with other people. But I can’t speak right now, I'm not in a place to offer generosity without someone first giving it to me.
And generosity and grace is what we all need.
Four more chapters and I hope my ghosts will finally let me read in peace.
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snugglesquiggle · 8 months ago
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Do you like juzi or vuzi more
i'm gonna ramble hella hard about this, sorry, but that's the bargain you strike when you shoot an ask my way
but there's a fun story to my answer. you see, V/Uzi was actually my first interest, and in fact when i started kicking around the idea of writing Murder Drones fanfics, the first idea i seriously tried to work out was a V/Uzi fic
(for the curious, general shape of the idea was that Uzi encounters V first, railgun wipes her memory, fails to befriend her like she did with N and has to run away. Uzi then sneaks out again and again, exploiting the railgun-induced amnesia and errors to try and get through to V, leading to a kind of mutual rivalry as V tries to figure out why she keeps having gaps in her memory.
pretty sure it was going to escalate to Uzi hacking into V and potentially going dubious places. the working title for that fic was "Somnabulation". which means sleep-walking, so it would have been kind of ironic for Somnabulation to be the mind control fic and Hostile Takeover the one that spends half its wordcount in memory simulations)
but i'm rambling.
i never ultimately figured out how to make the V/Uzi fic come together into something i liked. and i didn't have that much motivation to do so, as there are good V/Uzi fics out there, like This World Couldn't See Us or Hold On Tight To This Time, This Place
but, as you'll quickly discover if you search the tag now, J/Uzi fics are a lot less numerous. i did like some of what i saw there, so i didn't have a full on "if i don't do this, nobody will" kind of motivation driving me
but then one day, out of the blue, a single thought occurred to me, an observation, comparison, an answer to the question of "what could a relationship between these two possibly be based on?"
and then the whole fic just crystallized around that thought.
(what was thought? i'll leave that as an exercise for the reader, or perhaps i'll save it for a minor reveal later on in Hostile Takeover. it's not very profound, but when it occurred to me i did have the distinct feeling that i'm not sure anyone had thought of the connection i just made.)
and i want to emphasize, when i say it crystallized, i mean it seriously came together, all at once. on October 31 last year, i jotted down the outline, initially as something to post in a discord brainstorming channel, but then i spent all evening writing more and more, and came out the other end with ten thousand words of notes and scene sketches
but anyway, all of that yapping is a long way to say
at the start i preferred V/Uzi (V was my favorite character, and J barely registered as anything but a joke to me), and i began writing Hostile Takeover essentially as a writing challenge or puzzle to prove something, or even just as a practice run for the fic i really wanted to write.
but i think my phrasing here gives the game away, doesn't it? i think very few people would write nearly 160k words in four months out of mere intellectual curiosity
so to finally, finally answer your question, my favorite is J/Uzi and by a long shot. the relationship absolutely grew on me as i wrote it. i'd genuinely go as far as to say my hot take is that it's actually easier to have J/Uzi make sense than V/Uzi, if you're being truly faithful to both characters. is this because J has less character to be faithful toward? shut up.
i think the biggest factor here is that in the course of writing HT, V stopped being my favorite character. i still find her a lot of fun when i'm reading her in other fics, but writing her has just brought a lot of her flaws to the forefront, and it's hard not to be increasingly frustrated with her character. (is this self-inflicted on my part for writing a plot where V causing problems is the central driver? maybe)
but yeah, i've found myself so much less interested in V/Uzi as time goes on. one of my mutuals has describe vuzi as something to the effect of the blander, safer alternative to juzi, and don't look at me i'm just misquoting him.
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callipraxia · 4 months ago
Note
sooooo i read the christmas pages and now i'm crying about it. it could've been a whole episode it could've been a WHOLE EPISODE. WIN!!! but also i'm here to say that my assumptions about ford "not being much of a drinker" until bill cipher was ACTUALLY CORRECT??? SOMEHOW??? also this is making me want to write again. like very much so. guh (let's hope this hype continues!)
Feel you on the wanting to write again; most of what I've written so far has admittedly been short extrapolations on tumblr and I am suddenly full of interest again in the notes I made for another essay last year, so maybe it's triggered my nonfiction era or something like that, but I also wrote like half of a fifth chapter for the 'Unexpected Memoirs' recently.
On the subject of Ford and drinking...I know you put the story with alcoholic!Ford on the back-burner, but it occurred to me last night that there's the potential for some interesting discourse around Ford's role in the show's addiction metaphors now. Admittedly, we have to take Ford's statements about himself with a tiny grain of salt, since he's barely a more reliable narrator than Bill when it gets too close to home, and one could read into the fact that he says he usually "tries to sober", which leaves open the option that he has to 'try' because it's an active effort for him and/or that he's the poster boy for nineties narratives about peer pressure making you make unintelligent decisions - not sure if I read it that way or not, but it would definitely be a legitimate reading. If we take Ford's statements at face value, though, and he really doesn't/didn't drink very often pre-Bill, then an interesting pattern that I assume could mean something still develops: Ford might not drink that often, since I can only recall now three canon instances, but when he does, he apparently cannot handle it at all. And it works even though we already had Fiddleford as the "alcoholic just waiting to happen" in the plot, since they have completely different motives. Ford isn't deliberately blacking out portions of his own life to avoid dealing with them like Fiddleford did, but he does, after all, 'use' Bill to get 'round his problems at first. His loneliness, his lack of social facility ("[he's] given me clever comebacks when I'm insulted"), his professional paralysis after a certain point of his research...issue solved! And he's rather repressed as a rule, trying to live up to his picture of himself he's built up in his head, so it makes sense that if his inhibitions are lowered in the slightest, he just goes a bit nuts with it, takes it too far, not least because Ford takes everything too far no matter how it feels, but also because he's, like...having fun for once. At least at first, anyway. Before we cross the fine line between 'taking it too far' and 'taking it too far" and then everyone ends up miserable and unwell.
Which also reminds me: I forgot about one portion of my original Ford Essay when I said last night that nothing in it had been definitely debunked. I proposed there that Ford may have had some vague approximation of a life in the years before Bill and the Blind Eye came along and messed up first him and then the whole town, but nah, apparently Ford was, indeed, lying through his teeth when he made a point of how happy he was at first in Gravity Falls and how he felt like he'd finally found a place where he fit in. Which also makes sense, since he and Stan are both to an extent putting on a show for the other's benefit in that scene in order to save face, but does make me kind of sad :( I wanted him and Manly Dan to be friendly, dangit. Don't know why, but I apparently was more invested in it than I'd realized, I guess.
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midnightcreator12 · 2 months ago
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The Simple Joy of Rain
Very out of context story based on my DnD campaign.
Faust belongs to @charlie-charlie-yes-i-am-here
Enjoy!
----------------------
Wren knew what rain was before she’d escaped the Westledge estate. 
She’d seen rain plenty of times, and even a child in her circumstance could puzzle together what rain was.
But she had always been separated from rain, behind a shield of intricate stained glass windows.
It hadn’t occurred to her until a year after settling in Dogwood Grove that the ‘design’ on her bedroom window had been iron bars made to mimic the windows everywhere else.
She could remember the first time she’d felt rain on her scales, as clearly as if it had happened yesterday. Because it had also been the day she’d stumbled in between the roots of an ancient tree and collapsed in exhaustion. It was also the day she had truly felt a kind touch, from warm and aged and callosed hands.
So Wren didn’t mind the rain. Hell, once she learned what an oncoming downpour smelled like in the air, she started growing excited to get absolutely drenched.
Which was why she watched the grumbling clouds roll closer and did nothing to take shelter.
Sticks wasn’t of the same mind, he’d quickly burrowed himself down as far as he could into Wren’s armor when he noticed the rumbling clouds, a warm and furry weight right at the base of Wren’s sternum.
And normally, she wouldn’t think about much else. She’d just slip her cloak and gloves and shin guards off and wait for the first chilly drops to start hitting her skin.
But she wasn’t alone this time.
Technically, she had four new companions but only one was currently not sleeping inside the inn.
She looked across the roof to where a mass of feathers and leather armor lay, ignorant of the low rumbles of thunder that were approaching.
Wren frowned, tilting her head. 
Surely he didn’t mind a little rain? He wouldn’t sleep outdoors if he did

But she also knew most people did not enjoy the feeling of getting soaked. She’d gotten a fair share of odd looks from the occasional travels through Dogwood. The townspeople themselves had also pestered her to come inside from the rain for months until Bast told everyone to leave her be.
But Wren knew people would complain about their hair getting wet and it being difficult to dry afterward...
She imagined feathers were a bit like hair

And Faust had a lot of feathers for moisture to get trapped on
.
Well, Wren wasn’t planning to have her cloak on anyway.
Her foot claws barely made a sound as she picked up her cloak and made her way to Faust. It was one of the first things Bast had gifted her, the material breathable but study. It wasn’t fully waterproof but it did a fine job of keeping the worst of it at bay.
But her attempts to drape it over Faust without waking him up ended in vain, since a particularly loud clap of thunder shattered the night air at the same time she dropped the fabric over him.
Faust shot up, eyes wide as he looked around, wings puffing up as if preparing for take-off, “Wha- whe- who-?”
Wren felt the first drops of rain hit her head. She reached down and tugged the hood of the cloak over Faust, “It would appear that a storm has blown in.”
“Storm-?” Faust blinked hard, probably trying to orientate himself after the sudden wake-up call.
More water began to fall and Wren stepped back, relishing in the feeling of moisture sliding along her scales as the droplets came at greater quantity and speed.
Faust made an odd squawking sound as he finally processed that it was, in fact, raining. He scrabbled to his feet, talons fumbling with the green cloak, “I have a blanket! Why did you give me-? You’re gonna get soaked!”
“I don’t mind,” Wren hummed, tilting her head back so the rain could strike her face.
Dust, grit, and dried blood from days of traveling washed away, leaving pristine scales behind. Wren frowned a bit, lowering her gaze to look at her hands.
The scales were always clean. She hadn’t paid much mind to it before, she’d dismissed a lot of things as simple ‘dragonborn stuff that she just didn’t know and didn’t really need to know’. It was clearly a very normal dragonborn thing to feel the grime of days without a proper bath and not actually be able to see it well.
But now, knowing what she did? The uncanny cleanliness stood out to her, wormed into her head and hissed into her mind.
‘That isn’t you.’
“Hey?”
Faust’s voice made Wren look up.
He looked a bit damp but a blanket had joined her cloak in the mission of keeping him mostly dry. His beak was twisted into an odd expression, one that Wren couldn’t quite place.
He grinned a bit when she looked at him, “You, uh
.like rain?”
Wren blinked.
Then huffed a small laugh, “Yes. It’s quite refreshing.”
Faust nodded very seriously, “Hmmm, yeah, yeah
.do you
.want company or
?
Wren huffed again, “You do not have to stay here if you’d prefer to join the others.”
“That isn’t what I asked,” Faust countered quickly.
Wren smiled now and gave a little shake, the motion causing water to spray off her in an almost halo, “I wouldn’t say no to company.”
Faust nodded, settling more comfortably as another boom of thunder disturbed the night.
Wren closed her eyes and listened to the sound build to its peak before fading again.
No, she was not quite herself yet. But hopefully, that hurdle would be rectified soon.
She wasn’t looking forward to returning to that manor
but she felt a little better about the looming walls and foreboding stained windows and uncanny paintings.
Because she wouldn’t be returning there alone.
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naranjapetrificada · 6 months ago
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Kinda re: my last reblog:
I finally did start reading Once Upon a Summer in San Francisco, despite my fears that reading a modern AU set in a thriving queer community in the late 70s would be haunted by the horrible spectre of the coming AIDS crisis. So far, I haven't needed to tap out! I think maybe there's something about how OFMD can be so gleefully ahistorical that's keeping everything at bay?
Like no matter where you put these characters they exist in such rarefied air that your brain can often put horrors aside, at least while you're in the thick of reading it all. Which isn't to make a value judgement about whether or not it's the right choice for the author to acknowledge it or not. I'm aware that there's A Certain Fic in this fandom that takes place in the 80s that people have criticized a lot because it doesn't reckon with it at all, but I haven't read that because SMAUs make my brain itch.
But the fic I'm talking about is set in 1978 and 1978 isn't 1981. The characters wouldn't exactly know what's coming, just like people didn't IRL, and future horrors do not mean that all of the beautiful people we lost didn't live and love and build things and care for each other first, you know? Queer people who found the loves of their lives in 1978 had beautiful and worthwhile stories and experiences that aren't less beautiful or worthwhile because of what happened later.
Anyway, before I can lose the plot anymore, I'm just glad to report that for now at least, I get to enjoy the experience of reading it and the side stories in the same universe. I suppose when storytelling is done right you're usually so immersed that it may not even occur to you to remember impending real life tragedies unless the storyteller decides to bring your attention to them.
[All this has made me think about The Boys in the Band which isn't exactly a 1:1 because it was made pre-AIDS crisis, but when I watched that I was similarly too immersed in the story's "present" to worry about the future, at least until the movie ended. Maybe Cabaret is a better example of a story that makes a point to acknowledge that the audience knows what's coming even if the characters don't.]
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tiamat-zx · 2 years ago
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So I just saw a random comment on a reaction video, and it made me wonder something.
Vax is Fate-touched, long before he ever realized it. Able to bend the threads of Fate around him. So this makes me wonder if that had anything to do with what occurred in the Season 1 finale. Specifically, when Keyleth was at death’s door.
They had no potions, no healing magic they could use on their own as Pike’s astral form had faded. And then she slips away. But then Vax notices that she is still carrying the components she used to revive Cassandra.
Granted, what Kiki suffered was far worse than a throat slit. It was the finger of death itself, coming from a powerful, vengeful widow of a necromancer. And it whittled away her remaining life force until she was almost entirely cracked on the outside.
Anyway, so Vax gathers the components and borrows a little bit of magic from Scanlan and proceeds to use them to heal her.
So here is my thought. What if she actually did die at that instance? And without knowing it, Vax had bent Fate to allow her to live, essentially casting Revivify on her? Because it was not her Fate to have her story end in that manner.
Just a theory, mind you. But in the context of the lore behind the Fate-touched and the Matron of Ravens having always watched over him
 it would be plausible enough to be true. And in a way, morbidly romantic for them.
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