#family history fanatics

[glavilio]

me sprinkling in a little bit of romantic baggage into all my characters with a uniquely transgender flavor. no one is safe

[ryanguzmanscowlick]

The thing is, Tommy’s worried about Evan coming over to his house for the first time. He’s seen Evan’s loft. It’s all clean lines, modern appliances and details. What little sentimental odds and ends he owns are tucked away or so subtle than Tommy didn’t spot them the first couple of times he came over.

Tommy’s house, by contrast, is filled with the detritus one accumulates when they’ve gone no contact with everyone related to them and they’re trying to create a homey, family atmosphere out of thrift stores and the Pottery Barn catalogue instead of friends and family.

He’s a knick-knacker, an antique furniture collector, a throw pillow and afghan fanatic.

He doesn’t have much in the way of books, but he has shelves and shelves of notebooks, some full, some half-used, some untouched. It’s a habit he picked up when his first ever therapist (after he left the 118) coaxed him into writing everything down to make a little sense of the mess of contradictions, phobias, old prejudices, prejudices still clinging on and traumas that made it feel impossible to figure out what to talk about first when he sat down in that office.

There’s a small, awkward section of wall in his kitchen created when a previous owner of the house decided to add a laundry room (embarrassingly, his favorite room in the house for it’s sheer utility) and that’s where Tommy hangs his collection of coffee mugs. Some of them are Goodwill finds, some souvenirs, some band merch or creations by local artists he picked up at some market or other.

There’s five different varieties of protein powder constantly cluttering his kitchen counter because he ran out of room in the small pantry. His pots and pans hang over the tiny, rolling kitchen island, which is itself nearly taken over by a serving tray that holds his water filter, a candle, a decorative planter filled with his cooking utensils, a plastic case of toothpicks.

He still has a dvd collection, for heaven’s sake, and it takes up most of his sagging entertainment center. He should replace it, but it’s the first piece of furniture he ever restored and he’s having trouble letting go. Speaking of letting go, there’s a dog bed in the corner for a dog that passed away nearly ten months ago. He probably will at least hide that in a closet before Evan gets here.

Because he is coming over. No matter how nervous Tommy is, he’s not gonna come up with another excuse for why they have to postpone or meet at Evan’s instead. He gets the feeling he’s already made Evan a little wary, and with Evan’s relationship history and his fear of being too much, not enough, just left, Tommy will eat his own foot before he purposely exacerbates Evan’s fears.

If Evan looks around and decides Tommy is a hoarder or a slob or a million other nasty epithets Tommy’s brain is offering up like some cruel, self-sabotaging buffet- Well, they’ll talk about it. They’ll learn and adjust. Evan has never, ever been cruel to Tommy and it’s quite frankly laughable that he would start now.

That’s what Tommy tells the rogue half of his brain trying to rain on their parade. Another thing he picked up from his therapist - name the part of you that spews negative self-talk and talk back to it. Predictably, Tommy named his Vince. Shut the fuck up, Vince.

Evan’s shift ended twenty minutes ago and Tommy has chili on the stove keeping warm. Between showering and the drive over, Evan should be due at his door in another twenty-five or so. Tommy hides the dog bed, lights the kitchen candle, tries to find things to do with his hands so he doesn't watch the time like a hawk. They’ve had conflicting shifts for almost two weeks with only stolen moments and half-asleep kisses in between. Tommy misses his boyfriend. But a watched clock never ticks, or whatever.

His strategy works, because Evan’s knock on the front door actually startles him a little from the stack of unopened mail he’s sorting through. So many flyers for what feels like every home decor and craft store in the state.

Evan’s eyes are gentle and joyful when Tommy answers the door. “Hey.” He leans in to squeeze Tommy’s bicep and press a kiss to the wing of his cheek. Tommy can feel Evan’s mouth stretch into a smile against his skin.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Tommy wiggles his fingers under the strap of Evan’s duffel to take it from him and steps aside to let him into the house. His heart thuds in his chest.

Evan surrenders his bag and steps into Tommy’s home for the first time. If he notices Tommy holding his breath, he doesn’t comment yet.

He takes a look around while Tommy tries to look anywhere but his face. He doesn’t want to let on that he’s being a complete lunatic about this, that he let his anxiety take over for the better part of the day.

When Evan turns around to face Tommy again and slides his hands over Tommy’s waist, presses his fingers into Tommy’s back, nudging them closer together, his smile has split into a full grin. Tommy can’t help reflexively smiling in return. He can feel his cheeks flooding with warmth. It should be embarrassing that Evan still makes Tommy blush at the drop of a hat even all these months later, but if it helps Evan know deep in his bones that Tommy is gone for him, Tommy wouldn’t trade it for anything.

“It looks like you.” Evan draws his hands up and down Tommy’s torso in gentle strokes. “Cozy. Warm. Like…” He trails off and bites his lip, drops his eyes to Tommy’s chest.

Tommy hooks his fingers under Buck’s chin and lifts his gaze back up until their eyes meet in a move that’s become so routine it’s pretty much an inside joke between them. “Like what? Don’t leave me hanging.”

It’s Evan turn to flush a deep pink. He takes an unsteady breath in. “L-like home.”

An immense weight lifts off Tommy’s chest so quickly it almost steals his breath, but Evan has tensed up just a fraction, so Tommy hums softly, spreads his big hands over Buck’s wide shoulders and digs his fingers in to massage the tension back out. He slides deeper into Evan’s space to take his mouth in a chaste, lingering kiss, and he murmurs against his lips. “Glad to hear it.”

[teaboot]

How do Canadian schools teach about indigenous Canadian history and culture? -a curious USAmerican

In my experience we learned about colonization at the same time as we learned about the formation of Canada. At first it was "European settlers came and pushed out the indigenous population", then in the higher grades we learned more about the how and the why.

For example, how carts full of men with rifles would ride around shooting Buffalo, then leaving the meat on the ground to rot, because "a dead Buffalo is a dead indian", which was so fanatical it almost wiped out wild Buffalo entirely

Also how Canadian settlers were lured in with beautiful hand-painted advertisements for cheap, beautiful, fertile land that was unpopulated and perfect, if only you'd sail over with your entire family and a pocket full of seeds- only to be met with scared, confused, and angry lawful inhabitants already run out of ten other places, and frigid winters, and rocky, forested, undeveloped dirt.

also, smallpox blankets, where "gifts" of blankets infected with smallpox were intentionally given out

And treaty violations- Either ignoring written agreements entirely, or buying them out at insanely low prices and lying about the value, or trading for farming equipment that they couldn't use because they weren't farmers.

Then in the first world war, where they told indigenous peoples here that they'd be granted Canadian citizenship if they enlisted

To Residential schools, which was straight up stealing kids for slavery, indoctrination, and medical experiments

But we also covered the building of the Canadian Railway in which Chinese immigrants were lowered into ravines with dynamite to blow out paths through the mountain for pennies on the dollar

And the Alberta Sterilization Act, where it was lawful and routine procedure to sterilize women of colour and neurodivergent people without their awareness or consent after giving birth or undergoing unrelated surgeries

But I'm rambling.

We kind of learned Aboriginal history at the same time as everything else? Like. This is when Canada was made, and this is how it was done. Now we'll read a book about someone who lived through it, and we'll write a book report. And now a documentary, and now a paper about the documentary. Onto the next unit.

And starting I think in grade 10 our English track was split between English and Aboriginals English, where you could choose to do the standard curriculum or do the same basic knowledge stuff with a focus on Aboriginal perspectives and literature. (I did that one, we read Three Day's Road and Diary Of A Part-Time Indian, and a few other titles I don't remember.)

There was also a lunch room for the Aboriginal Culture Studies where Aboriginal kids could hang out at lunch time if they wanted, full of art and projects and stuff. They'd play music or videos sometimes, that was cool

And one elective I took (not mandatory cirriculum) was a Kwakiutl course for basic Kwakwakaʼwakw language. Greetings, counting to a hundred, learning the modified alphabet, animals, etc. Still comes in handy sometimes at large gatherings cause they usually start with a land recognition thanking whoever's land we're on, with a few thanks and welcomes in their language.

And like- when I was in the US it was so weird, cause here we have Totem poles and longhouses and murals all over and yall... don't? Like there is a very distinct lack of Aboriginal art in your public spaces, at least in the areas I've been

My ex-stepfather, who was American, brought his son out once, and he was so excited to "see real indians" and was legitimately shocked to learn that there weren't many teepees to be found on the northwest coast, and was even *more* shocked when we told him that you have Aboriginal people back home too, bud. Your Aboriginal people are also named "Mike" snd "Vicky" and work as assistant manager at best buy.

If you'd ask me, I'd say that the primary difference is that USAmerica (from what I've seen, and ALSO in entirely too much of Canada) treats our European and Aboriginal conflicts as history, something that's tragic but over, like the extinction of the mammoths, instead of like. An ongoing thing involving people who are alive and numerous and right fucking here

But at the end of the day, I'm white, and there are plenty of actual Aboriginal people who are speaking out and saying much more meaningful things than I can

So I'm just gonna pass on a quote from my Stepmum, who's Cree, that's stuck with me since she said it:

"You see how they treat Mexicans in America? That's how they treat us here. Indians are the Mexicans of Canada."

[gsirvitor]

So, let's get this straight, Trump has had 5 attempts on his life since 2015, 3 attempts prevented before they got a chance, and 2 that weren't.

The two successful attempts were done by Democrat fanatics, Ryan Routh, and Thomas Mathew Crooks.

Thomas Crooks had a family that were left leaning, and he had a history of donating to Act Blue, and voting in a closed primary as a republican to vote against Trump, he was killed after taking a shot at the President, and opening fire on the rally, hitting multiple people, and killing Corey Comperatore, a rally goer.

The media tried to link Mr. Crooks to Iran, for some war hawkish reasons, that sounded too much like the early 2000s reporting of WMDs being undeniably found in the Middle East.

Ryan Routh was taken down by the secret service prior to getting his full attempt at Trump's golf course, no one knows how he caught wind of Trump being there when it was a last minute, spontaneous, unannounced trip.

Mr. Routh however isn't being falsely linked to a foreign power, he himself openly went to Ukraine to fight, was denied by the Ukrainian government, and continued to act as a propaganda recruiter for Ukraine, he was even filmed in a promotional video for the Azov Brigade, in which he was in Kyiv attending a rally in support of the Neo Nazi military unit.

Now we find out Matt Gaetz has learned from a DHS official that there are 5 assassination groups in the US currently trying to kill Trump, 3 foreign groups, and 2 domestic, 2 of the foreign groups are allegedly linked to both Ukraine and Iran, and the Harris Administration knows these groups exist, and are trying to kill him.

Then you need to consider the fact that the Secret Service is being denied resources by the Administration to bolster their effectiveness at protecting the President.

I don't know about anyone else, but, you can consider my almonds activated.

[chronologically-challenged]

I keep imagining the family going through a post-game celebration round of all the towns they visited along their journey... but Siffrin having no idea who ANY of these people are or any of the shenanigans that happened before the loops.

"Oh, saviors!!! It's so nice to see you again!!! Thank you for saving our country and my marriage!!! Before we were frozen, we were finally able to bury that awful crest that's been defiling our home. Now, we can move forward and start our family anew. If you ever need our family key for anything else, you're welcome to it any time."

"Thank you for all your help. For everything. If it wasn't for you, those sadnesses would have destroyed our town long before the King froze us. And as for Garrus... he's still bitter about his defeat. We're keeping an eye on him. Anyone can Change after all... even King fanatics."

"Oh! Saviors! Nice seeing you. Uh, no hard feelings on that 'gonna make you all solve puzzles in my mansion to prove you're strong enough to fight the King' thing right? Right?"

"Oh!!!! Saviors!!!! This tower you unlocked is amazing!!!! It has such odd craft, and knowledge, I can't BELIEVE you found a tower from the pre-war era. Thank you for your contributions to our history. And saving the country, of course."

The rest of the party is having a fun time catching up. Meanwhile, Siffrin in the background:

[princesssmars]

alone together

a karlach x princess!reader.

in the blink of eye, you go from a carefree heir to a throne to a damsel in distress stuck in a tower. but there's a strange woman stuck with you, and maybe you can make each other a little less lonely.

wc : 8,655

contains: fxf. fem!reader. skin color not described. fluff. some light angst. smut. g!p karlach. oral and penetrative sex.

a/n: fuck that poll i'll do TWO fics for her i never cared! karlach has a little soldier because those bg3 mods have affected my brain and i need her to take me to pound town. sorry i rushed the ending i need this fic out NOW. enjoy :3

throughout history, many tales have been written about the failures of monarchs.

there was thaymor the vain, whose search for everlasting youth to sustain his envied beauty led to him making a deal with faeries for a youth spell, but they didnt tell him he would absorb this youth from his entire family, killing his lineage in only a few short years.

atreyu the acceptable, whose father went from being the hero who defended his village from raiders to the king who turned it into a flourishing kingdom, while the most his son accomplished was developing a new bread recipe in the palace kitchens. to be fair, it was rather tasty. bit too many nuts.

but the one story you loathed the most was cassara the chilled. a young, beautiful, and promising young princess who was locked in her room for nearly half a year as punishment for a false accusation of pushing her brother, the crown heir, down a flight of stairs. in her lonesome and desperation, she had turned to dark magic to sustain herself, and by the time her parents found her, she was a cold and petrified shell. nothing more than a glamorous statue.

you would read these stories in the palace library and, admittedly a bit morbidly, laugh to yourself. your family line was known for its intelligence and charisma, able to control your kingdom with ample care for its citizens and contributing greatly to its numerous advancements.

it'd been this way for decades - so how on earth were your parents so damned stupid?

you had noticed things like this before. the pair of them listening too closely to what citizens had to say while holding court. a few years back a fanatical farmer had told them he saw a sign from one of his gods that unless the kingdom slaughtered half its cows it would be leveled, and the king quickly gave the order. then it was later revealed that the farmer had eaten some contaminated mushrooms he had found on his farm and didnt even worship any gods.

the kingdom ate a lot of chicken that year. some of the court mages used spells to increase the egg output from the livestock to make up for it, which led to you quitting the meat for two years. those magic chickens were...odd.

but besides that, your life was nothing short of amazing. you were the only child and the crown heir, so even though you had the unbearable weight of the heavily bejeweled crown in your future, with all the luxuries you were afforded like dresses, jewelry, lavish balls, and dinners, it was very much worth it.

on a day when you had political tutoring instead of attending court, your parents must have done something to piss someone off, because the next time you came in you'd never seen a citizen have such nerve. it was an old woman dressed in black rags and holding a weird-looking staff, most likely a witch.

your family had no qualms against magic wielders as far as you knew, seeing any amount of help to grow their empire as worthwhile. but that changed when she aimed her stick at your parents and spoke.

"your contempt for life that does not fit your 'purpose' is an affront for everything your kingdom supposedly stands for. a kingdom i helped your ancestors build. and all i asked in return is for you to remember my terms. to not disrespect me after all i've done. but you have failed. and for this you must be punished."

you were going to call her insane, call the guards to seize her and make an example out of anyone who would threaten and say such baseless claims about your family. you had heard the story of how your ancestors built this kingdom from the ground up hundreds of times, and not once was it mentioned that they received help from a witch.

you weren't afforded time to think it over when her staff pointed at you, her gaze making your blood run cold. the trinkets and bones attached to the end of the warped dark stick brimming with glowing tendrils of magic.

"your daughter, such beauty, such grace, such a beacon of what your family stands for," she taunts and moves her head side to side as she mocks you. "i will give you a choice. your daughter or your kingdom."

you scoff at her and the panicked whispers from the commoners and guards around you. this is bullshit. for all you knew she was nothing but a druid playing dress up, most likely hurt that her flower farm was torn up in one of your father's recent expansion projects.

"this is crazy, we all know this is crazy, right?" your head whips to stare at your parents, who won't even look you in the eye. you start to feel sick, refusing to believe for a second that they could actually be considering this. "mother, father!"

your father raises his hand and the room goes quiet. he stands, an imposing figure by himself, and his cloaks and crown make him more so. the family crest glimmers from his chest, a golden dragon with its wings bared. you try to remember what it stands for to quell the fear in your chest.

your family is strong, your family has knowledge that goes beyond others, your family is more powerful than this pathetic pretender-

"please, just...just don't hurt her, we beg."

your eyes strain at the sight of your father, the king, on his knees with his hands clasped together.

he's pleading with her. this woman is threatening your life and he's begging to her.

you only manage to have one last thought before you're enclosed in a cloud of black and feel your body being ripped through space.

your family is fucking stupid.

your new life is far from what you're used to, but you become suspicious of how pampered elisia - the hag - has made everything for you.

you live in a tower, a tall and black and imposing thing that if you weren't a damn hostage you'd probably think thrice about entering. it stood at the top of an abandoned keep you think you'd heard of in another bedtime story, something about an ogre and a damsel…whatever.

elisia had made it extremely clear that there would be no way for you to escape. her magic would keep the place functional while she was gone; the dark halls lit up, kitchen stocked, library filled. but try to navigate the gigantic lower level that led to the exit and you’d end up in an endless loop that left you feeling dizzy enough to give up for the day.

(for good measure the keep was also situated on a crumbling mountain above a pit of actual lava. have to applaud her efficiency.)

but then you asked if she had planned on you going insane, as would eventually happen if you were left here alone.

the sound of her cackle rang in your head for a few days.

‘what makes you think you're alone in here?’

the cloth of your bed was soft, the gentle canopy making you long for the glamorous and full one you'd had at home. but even the mocking familiarity couldn’t rouse you into sleep that night. every tumble of a rock echoed throughout the halls of the prison that was now your home, making vomit rise in your throat as you remembered the witch’s words.

you tried to calm yourself down, convincing yourself she only alluded to another thing being here to scare you. for the first day you tried to follow your daily schedule as well as possible. wake up, clean and dress yourself, eat some breakfast, focus on hobbies and interests, tea in the garden, etcetera.

but to say it was a struggle is an understatement. you forgot how everything was made easier by your maids and lady’s in waiting, having issue with just doing your hair alone. you didn’t even want to begin on breakfast, fighting with the damned bewitched oven and settling for a fruit salad.

and so you stick to reading, it’s not like you need help doing that. it reminds you of when you were younger and your governess would call out “sick” and when a replacement was being prepared you’d wait on the cushy classroom chaise and read and read and read until your eyes started to hurt.

and now you’ve resorted to reading a cookbook. you’re halfway through a recipe for grilled cheese when you hear it, the displacement of rock in the walls and a dull, eerie humming. you feel the goosebumps rise on your skin and try your best not to let your fear show as you pass a quick glance up at the doorway.

and an eye is staring right back at you.

the book falls from your hands and hits the ground with a hard smack, throwing you from holding the eyes gaze as you make sure it’s alright before looking back at the doorway, only to find nothing there.

this is getting weird. and unsettling. and annoying. and so you muster up all the foolish courage you can, pick your dress up by the hem, and chase after the creature.

you recognize it’s not the smartest idea, chasing after something potentially dangerous and definitely stalking you. but if it’s resorted to staring at you from doorways it can’t be prone to violence. hopefully. curse your father for burdening you with his impatience. and dimwittedness, apparently.

whatever the thing is its fucking fast, tucking and weaving around corners almost faster than you can keep up with.

(you mentally thank your fitness educator for making you routinely run laps around the gardens when you became too lazy for your parents liking back when you were twelve. sucks you’ll never see her again, she was always funny.)

the mysterious being messes up and you cheer to yourself when you hear it stop itself from crashing into the wall.

“hah! looks like you’ve-“

gods above you must look like a dunce, panting in the middle of this dark hallway as you stare at the big bad that was staring at you in your entrapment. but it’s not what you expect. it’s not a monster, or a creature, or the angel of death here to free you from the torment of boredom.

it’s a woman. a devil woman. a very large and disturbingly attractive devil woman.

gods above, you’d been involuntarily celibate for far too long.

it’s clear she’s not going to start conversation first, appearing as if she’d rather sink into the walls themselves than explain herself to you.

“are we going to keep staring at each other or are you going to explain why you’re stalking me?”

“i’m not stalking you!” she blurts, clearly annoyed by your accusation. well, if she only responded to being called a pervert you’d just have to deal with that.

“you were standing in the doorway and ogling me as i was reading, sounds pretty stalkerish to me.”

“that’s not- i wasn’t ogling-“

“and you’ve clearly been in here with me a while, i’ve heard that weird humming and seen that light before. why not introduce yourself if you weren’t being a creep?”

“i’m not a stalker! i’m supposed to be here!” her eye twitches and you figured you’ve pushed her far enough to the truth. you didn’t want to annoy her too much, the giant woman looked like she could snap you in half with ease.

no, don’t think about that. stop staring at her muscles. stop it-

maybe she notices your silence or maybe she notices how you are not no politely checking her out, because she takes the infernal axe off her back, - which you hadn’t even noticed, survival skills going down the drain - sets it gently on the ground, and slowly starts to walk towards you.

you try your best not to show weakness or fear as she approaches, clearly trying to show you she doesn’t mean to harm you. she could have easily harmed you earlier when you chased her like a mad woman through the keep, and you start to feel a bit flushed with embarrassment.

“i can kind of explain why i’m here, if you’d like. somewhere more comfortable preferably.”

she leads you back to the kitchen and the whole time your eyes never leave her body, taking in every detail you can to try to piece together her story.

she has numerous scars starting from her face and trailing down her body, the gaps in her leather outfit letting you see the raised veins and literal vents in her arm and shoulder. add the injuries and incredibly well defined muscles together and it’s not hard to figure this woman is no strain her to hard battle, and could easily overpower you if she so desired.

(yet again you have to trample your inner libido at the thought. you need to get out of this place and fast.)

once in the kitchen, you both shit down and you listen as she tells you everything you want to know, answering every question you have without failure.

“what’s your name?”

“karlach. named after my mum. what’s yours?”

“princess y/n of tuquestia. are you a devil?”

“an actual princess, eh? here i thought that old witch was exaggerating. and no, i’m a tiefling. blame the burning skin and engine on that bitch downstairs mizora.”

“mizora? why the hell would you get mixed up with her?”

“i didn’t ask to. it’s a long story. i think your foods burning, love.”

“gods damn it. whatever. why are you here? how long have you been here?”

“guess that wicked witch is old buddies with my devil because they made some bet way back when that if she managed to screw over some kingdom they both hate mizora would give up one of her best soldiers to help her.”

“so what, your an extra ounce of protection to make sure i don’t jump out of a window?”

“guess i am. and please don’t, wouldn’t end well for either of us.”

after an hour of trying to make a simple meal and glaring at karlach whenever she’d tease you, a warmth bloomed in your chest uncaused by the infernal being across from you. until that point you had pondered when the effect of the endless days of loneliness would seep in, when you'd start talking to visions in your mind before slowly going insane.

but now you had karlach. big, loud, always yapping karlach.

you didn't have many friends back home. you had your handmaidens who were respectful but always too careful, brief flings from when you snuck out to the local towns taverns and polite conversations with visiting monarchs and royals. but never a true friend.

so you’re unable to tell if the way karlach acts is…normal. it’s not like she’s just standing behind and watching you as you try to live your life during the day. not that you’d mind that much.

it’s quite the opposite; she’s always talking. maybe it’s because during your first conversation you made a one off comment of resorting to talking to an old teddy bear you’d found in your closet for company, but there doesn’t go a minute where’s she doesn’t just strike up a conversation with you.

she asks what your home is like, how did you grow up, what it was like to be a princess (that ‘was’ stung more than you expected), if you ever had any pets, any friends, a boyfriend.

you’d snorted at that, telling her if there’s one thing you were grateful to your parents for it was respecting your preference for women. she goads you to go on and listens intently to your story of the time you and a neighboring princess got caught in the quite the situation behind one of the curtains at a large gala…

you figure it’s only polite to ask her all of her questions back, and clearly it’s the right option since each time you do her face lights up almost literally and she animatedly explains every little detail of her life and adventures before she got screwed over and stuck in avernus.

and oh, avernus. if there’s one thing to smack you into reality it’s when she finally deems you trustworthy enough to tell you how exactly she’d become one of mizoras best. you were not the least bit surprised that someone like gortash would screw her over.

(you’d only met him once at your parents invitation and faked food poisoning when he had asked you for a dance. karlach laughed so hard at that her fingers scorched the table you were sitting at. it felt in that moment that you’re stomach was even warmer than her.)

but when she explained everything after he gave her up, the pain of being taken from her home, having her heart replaced, turned into a killing machine and mistaken for a devil, your heart ached. all you wanted was to reach out and touch her, to place at least a comforting hand on her shoulder, but another pain she felt was going without contact with anyone because of her engine.

your old sociology instructor would weep in joy if she could see you know, mourning for the life of someone you just met could have had. all you wanted wasnt to escape this tower, or to wear the latest dress made custom by your tailor and drink some of the not sneakily hidden wine in the kitchens stone walls. it’s just to make her feel better.

so you come up with a plan. probably not the smartest one, but the only one that’ll get you results quickly.

you go about the morning as normal. wake up, clean yourself, meet karlach in the kitchen for breakfast. easy peasy.

now there’s just manning up and going through with this. you had told karlach you were making omelets, the tiefling practically bouncing in her seat as she cleaned off her axe while she wanted. as soon as you could tell she was distracted, you raised the vegetable cutting knife to your hand, took on a deep breath, and then-

“fuck!” her head jerked up at your cry, body standing up on automatically as she watched you cradle your hand to your chest and keel over. she goes to place a hand on your back to help you up and see what’s wrong when she stops herself, so close she can nearly feel the fabrics of your dress brush against her skin.

“damn it, princess. um, ok, it’s not too deep, i’ll get you a towel.” she rushes around the kitchen, searching for a piece of cloth to help you with your wound. but once she sees one sitting not even two feet from you by the fireplace, she’s stopped from alerting you by a swooshing air coming in from the hall, specks of magic floating through the air.

“what on earth are you doing?” elisia‘s voice comes out in a screech, looking like a cloud of darkness as her tall frame draped in black cloaks moves into the kitchen with a quickness. she’s just as quick to dig her nails into your wrist and bring your injured hand up to her face, ignoring your whimper that sends a pang of worry into karlach.

“what, are you turning into an idiot like your father? how can you be so inept?”

“ok ok, it was just an accident!”

she spits out a curse in a language you don't understand and drops your wrist, ignoring your grunt of pain. “the whole point of this is for you to be trapped here, not for you to end your life because of pure foolishness.”

her eyes zip to karlach, and you admire how the tiefling doesn't stand down to the hag's piercing gaze, squaring her shoulders almost like she is preparing for a fight.

“you. did you forget about our precious zariel’s little gift?” elisia smiles down at karlach’s chest, which noticeably glows brighter as her frustration rises. “one touch and you could have burned it closed. do you enjoy watching my hostage bleed out on the stone?”

“i don't think making her pass out and likely die from excruciating pain is in your plans either. i can't help her if i can't touch her without endangering her life!”

the echo of her booming voice leads to an eerie silence, both of you waiting for what elisia says next. your eyes meet from across the room, glowing amber trailing down to your hand before you give a quick nod to let her know you’re okay.

elisia groans, tapping her staff on one of the sturdy counters. “fine. what do you need in order to do what you’re here for?”

”i…i need an engine upgrade. just enough to be able to make contact.” you can't help but notice the tick in karlach’s voice, a slight glimmer of hope at just the idea that she’ll be able to touch someone again, even if it’s just you.

“you’ll still be able to use it as protection, yes?”

karlach nods, and after a few seconds of contemplation, the witch wordlessly disappears into a plume of smoke.

“do you think she’ll consider it?” you question, voice strained as the stinging of your palm reaches a new high. in a rush the woman is collecting the things needed to take care of your wound, gesturing for you to sit on top of the table while she helps as much as she can without hurting you further.

“focus on me, yeah? it’ll be over in a second.” she holds a bottle of alcohol over your hand waiting for your confirmation that she can pour it on the slash to sterilize it. you wish you could say you reacted gracefully, but based on her facial reaction it’s safe to assume the sound you cried was anything but pretty. quickly she guides you to dry it off and wrap it in a bandage, a sigh of relief escaping you when the would is properly covered.

“thank you. sorry if i made you worried, didn’t mean to cut so deep. still not very good with knives.”

“of course i worried, you’re - wait, you did this on purpose?”

you give her a sheepish smile as she stares at you in shock, eyes darting from your hand to multiple spots on your face before she bursts into a loud laughter, your body going stark straight from the surprise of her mood shifting so suddenly.

“glad to know i was right about there being something more than air in that head of yours, princess. now i’m aware you’re also crazy.”

“hey, it worked didnt it? now you’ll get your engine upgrade, and you’ll finally be able to touch me.”

“yeah looking forward to wrangling your stubborn ass from trying to find more secret tunnels in your bedroom.”

“i know they exist! what keep doesn’t have a secret tunnel?”

you’re thrown into a playful argument about how she’s certain that secret tunnels that you remembered dearly from your old castle wouldn’t be in every type of royal origin, while you try to persuade her it’s basically an untold law for building a keep.

all the while she’s trying to ignore how the light of the fireplace brings out the warmness of your skin, while you decide not to bring up how to the idea of touching you made her bite her lip and stutter her breath.

karlach gets her upgrade sooner than later, the itch appearing with a nice but scared-looking tiefling who uses a strange-looking metal to fix karalch up. you can tell she's trying to stay calm through the endeavor, not wanting g to risk the poor man due to her excitement. and the whole time you stay by her side, eyes trained on the rather strange way the procedure is done.

but once its done she stands there, almost unable to believe what she hopes to be true. she turns her body to face yours, eyes near begging for either of you to do something when you wrap your arms around her neck and push your body into hers.

and gods, is she warm. like cuddling up with a wool blanket in bed during the chilling midsts of winter. you can tell your sudden act of affection scared her at first, but once she realizes whats happening she wraps her arms around your waist so tightly it feels like shes trying to fuse you into one.

you hear elisia in the back, groaning at the act before leaving with the stranger in a hurry. when their footsteps are no longer heard karlach lifts your body up with ease, twirling you around before setting your body back to the floor.

her chest is having, excitement coursing through her body as flames rise and retreat from the vents in her shoulders.

“i cant believe it. i never thought i would- that you and i could-”

she cuts herself off with the most joyous laugh you've heard from her yet, pulling you into another hug and burying her face into your shoulder, minding not to scratch you with her horn.

its almost adorable how cuddly karlach becomes after that; a giant war fighting barbarian nervously asking if she can receive a random hug in the middle of the day, standing behind you as she makes sure you're following the steps of a recipe you found, even indulging you when you ask for her hands to warm your stomach when your moon week arrives.

only two weeks after her upgrade do you realize that you have feelings for her. maybe you've known for longer, only denying it in the fear that you'd lose the only true friend you'd ever had. even if she didn't return your affections, the reasonable part of you knew she would never turn you down in a harsh way. but you knew yourself, and knew the embarrassment would lead to you distancing yourself from her and ignoring her at any chance possible, which was the opposite of what both of you needed at this time.

you try your hardest not to make it obvious, but when she catches your eyes lingering on her a few times too long she decides she cant ignore it any longer, choosing to finally have that long awaited talk with you before you head to sleep.

she was escorting you from the library back up to your room for the night, gently guiding you with a large palm on your back while your attention was focused on a book you had found deep in the history shelves. it was endearing, how you'd pay little attention to where you were going and nearly trip over a stair before cursing it under your breath.

“i knew you were a bit of a history buff, darling, but you cant exactly learn if you give yourself a concussion.” karlach smiles.

you don't reply, mumbling something about being too engrossed in the text. with a choked back laugh she shakes her head and bends down to pick you up, one arm under your back and the other under your legs. she can see your eyes widen over the edge of the pages before going back to what you were doing. once she reaches your door she not-so-delicately kicks it open before placing you on your bed, bending down to start helping you take off your slippers.

once she's done she starts to look up at you when she takes a quick glance around your room. she’s only been in here a few times, when you’d fall asleep hunched over a tome in the library and she had to gracefully put you in your bed. there isn’t much in here save for the bed and a simple closet. but her eyes catch on the tally’s you’ve been keeping on the wall, inching closer and closer to the three month mark.

she starts to second guess herself. why would you have any feelings other then basic ones of friendship with her, a barbarian ordered to prevent you from leaving a tower you were trapped in? as much as you tried to hide it it was clear how much you missed your home, your parents, the grand lifestyle in which you were raised.

she’s about to make a quick exit after asking if you need anything else when you're doing it again: staring into her soul like you apparently so enjoy doing.

“is there anything else you need, princess?”

you feel a sharp pull below your stomach, not expecting the effect her words would have on your body, only increased by the feel of her large hand still around your ankle, the heat radiating from her and hitting you full force as whatever shes feeling grows in intensity. you gently reach a hand up to feel over the ridges of her cut horn, down to the slit in her eyebrow and the shaved cut of her hair. the whole time she waits, chest rising and falling as she tries to keep her composure while your touch continues its journey down and down until your gentle fingers are grazing over the curve of her nose and her lips.

you finally kiss her, and despite how damned good it feels she can't help but feel bad about how desperately she wants so much more. with all the carefulness she can muster she kisses you deeper, pulling you to the edge of the bed so that your legs are on both sides of her body.

“karlach, please…” you whine out into the quiet room, eyes closed at the bliss of her pressing her body closer to yours, her mouth deciding to start kissing down your throat when you stop kissing her to speak her name. not like she seems to mind, for every time you moan out her nails dig into the fat of your hips through your dress.

“gods, i’m so glad i was right. knew you wanted me, i had hoped you did.” her words are muffled by a quick bite to your throat, her mind going blank at the high pitched moan you let out at the press of her sharp teeth into your skin. she sucks a few more marks into the flesh before dragging her tongue in a line from the bottom of your neck back to your chin, staring into your eyes once she stops.

“clothes. clothes off, now.”

she obeys your demand, standing straight up to start working at her boots before tugging off her shirt like it’ll burn her, your slight giggling doing nothing to help her speed. once she’s done she looks back down at you, rolling her eyes to the sight of you laid pretty on your stomach, arms cushioning your head as you wait for her to undo the basic laces on your dress.

“you really are a spoiled princess, huh?” karlachs deep laugh does nothing to stop the need growing inside you, and neither does the feel of her hands ghosting over your back.

“don’t be mad just because i know my worth, brute.”

you can only let out a gasp when her fingers dig into the fabric and rip it down the middle, yanking the ruined dress out from under you. she waste no time in getting you into the position she wants, spreading your legs apart and pushing you down by the middle of your back.

“if i’m being too rough you’ll tell me, yeah?” you weakly nod your head from its place in your covers, but with a small pinch to the left cheek of your ass you know that was the wrong answer. “give me words, baby.”

“yeah, yes, fuck i will.” you don’t have time to be embarrassed by the desperation in your voice, since as soon as the affirmation leaves your mouth her fingers are spreading apart the lips of your cunt and licking a hard slow line up into you.

if she wasn’t explicitly put inside this keep to keep you safe you would have thought she was trying to kill you in the most euphoric way possible. she eats you like she’s starving and isn’t sure when she’s going to eat again. you then remember that before you the last time she slept with someone else was back when she was free in baldurs gate, so a decades worth of longing and lust has been steadily building inside her body.

and now she’s going to take all of it out on you. the thought just makes more cum run down your legs, eagerly caught by the hot mass of her tongue.

you thought she’d be more talkative but instead she’s laser focused on your center; she spreads you farther and farther to get a better view of you, rubbing at your clit with her wide thumb before pinching it when you wiggle your hips back at her. she ignores your whines in favor for drawing those deep sounds from the inside of your chest when she takes the bud inside her mouth and sucks, pulling roughly until your legs start to shake.

“karlach, fuck ‘m close, ‘m close!”

“that’s it, come on princess, cum for me. cum so i can split you open around me and make you mine.”

and like she’s a god that commands it you do, back arching near painfully as your hands fist the sheets and your throat goes raw with the force of your moan bordering on a scream. the whole time she refuses to slow down, sucking even harder as you cum so hard you fear you’ll pass out.

a minute later your high starts to die down, slick covering your thighs and a light sheen of sweat coating the rest of your body. you knew you’d been pent up these past few weeks with only your hand and pillow for satisfaction, but that was…intense.

you feel karlach pressing light kisses to your backside, leaving more little bites and marks around your hips and up your back. she briefly settles her body on top of yours, and while the weight and feel of her sends fireworks up to your brain and down to your cunt, the warmth of her is making the sweat on your back feel even worse, a pout forming on your lips.

“mmm, you’re hot.”

“glad you noticed.” she laughs, the deep timber of it rumbling through her body and into yours. for a brief second, you think you’d like to feel it for the rest of your life. the thought of it only makes you more desperate, trying to burrow your face deeper into the bed.

“think you can handle another? or does the princess need her bath and rest already?”

with a newfound determination, you try your best to lift her off of you, pushing your hips back into hers in the hopes she’ll feel enough pity to give in and roll off of you. instead, you get the opposite, both of you moaning at the grind of your ass against her groin. and fuck, does she feel big. bigger than you've ever taken, and there were some heavy hitters at the tavern you'd frequently sneak out to. soldiers who were big and strong and looking for a pretty thing to make their troubles go away for the night.

and now you had the upgraded model of all of them combined in front of you, lips still covered in your cum as she stared at your body like she wanted nothing more than to get her hands on it and not let go until she was fully sated. you crane your neck back and up to kiss her, tasting yourself as the two of you share a sweet yet intimate kiss, tongues fighting for dominance before you give up and let her win, hips continuing to buck when her long muscle pushes its way into your mouth and starts to explore.

you can only hold on to your small amount of patience for so long, and karlach starting to suck and bite at your tongue isn't helping in the slightest. your hands desperately reach up to grab at her, any part of her you can reach. you grasp helplessly at her large hand that's gently wrapped around your throat, her claws just barely scratching the sides. she squeezes the tiniest bit and you nearly cum from that alone.

“aw, you’re so desperate for it, aren't you baby?” she chuckles, loosening her grip so you can give a weak ‘mhm’ in response. “tell me what you want and it's yours.”

you tilt your head back farther, big wet eyes staring back at hers and clearly having the desired effect if her lip bite and groan are any indication.

“just want you. want you inside me so badly it hurts.”

in under a second her strong arms are flipping you around like it is nothing, spreading your legs and holding them up for you to hold, your brain instantly following her lead and doing as she intends. while you do that her hands are busy pushing the fabric of her pants down her hips, throwing them to the floor with a huff before she settles back in front of you, staring at you as you stare at her. well, a part of her.

she takes a few seconds to revel in the attention you’re giving her, pretty eyes trailing up and down her body, spread out oh so obediently for her while you willingly give yourself to her to indulge in. she’ll have to remember to tell you how much it means to her in the morning because all she can focus on now is fucking you until the both of you pass out.

and so she fits herself into place, swollen thighs helping to keep yours apart as a red hand goes to align herself with your entrance, catching your eyes again and waiting for your enthusiastic nod before pushing herself inside. you moan at the combination of pleasure and pain, grip on your legs faltering as your head falls back onto the bed. karlach isn’t doing better, moaning at the same time as you at the feeling of finally getting to be inside you.

“gods-fuck,” she groans, pushing her hips further until she’s finally fit her entire length inside of you. you’re given a few moments to adjust, but impatient as ever you buck your hips, whining as despite the fullness it’s still not enough.

she smiles, resting her body on top of yours, throwing your legs over her shoulders, and kisses you before starting to thrust at a speed that makes your eyes cross.

there are no words to describe how it makes you feel, just like there are no words you’re able to speak as she wrecks you oh so beautifully and oh so roughly. the only sounds in the room are the rough plap plap plap’s of her thighs meeting yours, the wet sounds of her length coming in and out of you, and the squeaky moans being exerted from your chest that had your cheeks hot to the touch.

needing to ground yourself you reach out for any part of her you can, fight hand gripping around the thick keratin of her horn. your left can only grip onto the stub of her other one, but as your nails dig into the skin at the bottom of it a loud cry leaves the barbarian as she somehow makes her thrusts hit even deeper.

you can’t even begging to imagine what you look like, the (former?) esteemed and regal crown princess spread out and moaning at the top of your lungs as a blood war fighting tiefling barbarian fucks you six ways into next sunday. but with each passing minute of her dick pressing into that oh so good spot inside of you, you can’t find it in you to care. you deserve this. karlach deserves this.

and gods is it so hot to see how much she takes advantage. she has all the stamina of a titan, only momentarily stopping her brutal pace to make sure your weak legs stay up and apart. if you didn’t know any better you’d think she was in a trance, gaze fixed on the sight between the both of your legs.

with a gentle tug on her horns you bring her head back up to look at you, those beautiful amber eyes droopy as her mouth falls open in another moan. you whine and yank slightly harder, pursing your lips at her confused face when you realize you’re still unable to communicate anything other than squeaks.

she brings her lips to yours so fast your heads bump, both of you giggling into the kiss. despite the continued frenzied movements below its sweet and intimate, a soft and fuzzy feeling growing in your chest as she pulls away and starts to press short kissed to your lips and cheeks.

“feels so good, princess, you’re so damn good.” she pants, resting her head in the crok of your neck. the small bit of praise makes you whine and clench around her, her thrusts stuttering for a moment before she digs her knees harder in the bed to make up for the extra resistance.

“aww, you like that?”

you turn your head in the opposite way out of embarrassment, hoping she’ll drop it and bring her focus back to the view of how her cock gradually comes back sticker each time she pulls out of you. instead she nudges her forehead into your chin, bringing your eyesight back to her.

“you like to act like a brat but you just wanna be all good and pretty for me, don’t you? it’s alright, you can tell me.”

face scrunching, you scratch your fingers again at the stub of her horn and she lets out a mix between a groan and a laugh, quickly hitting her hand down to the apex of your thighs and rub harsh circles on your clit.

“oh fuck, karlach, fuck!” your words are high and slurred, mind going blank at the pleasure she forces onto you. you feebly try to slow her down, gripping around her wrist to try and calm the overwhelming pressure building up. “i can’t, can’t it’s-“

“cmon baby, can talk a bug game but can’t take it? do it for me, yeah?”

she doesn’t wait for your answer, cutting off any potential sass as her finger rubs faster and harder and she tilts her hips ever so slightly upwards so she’s pressing directly into your spot, and in under a minute you’re clenching around her and nearly losing your mind at the sheer force of your orgasm, too blinded by the pleasure to notice karlachs strained keen as her thrusts come to a halt and the warm feeling of her cum flows inside of you.

she allows you to bask in the euphoric peace between sleep and consciousness for a few minutes, pulling herself out of you and gently shushing you at your strained whimper. her fingers brush away some of the stray sweaty hairs from your forehead and pressing sweet pecks to your cheeks.

“need some help, hun?” she asks, already predicting your tired nod. without a hitch she gently picks you up, not wanting to disturb you from the peaceful state you were currently in. with all the grace of a ghost she carries your limp body to the small bathroom, turns on the enchanted tub faucet, and gently placed your in the warm water with her sat behind you.

you go in and out over the next hour. you remember the feel of her rubbing the sweat off of your skin, her gentle praises whispered into your hair, her body warming up your towel to dry you off before tugging your nightgown over your head. when she rests your body on tops of hers on your bed, with the gentle hum of her engine calling you to slumber, your final thought is that you wouldn’t mind staying in this tower a little longer.

for the next few weeks everything is nothing short of perfect. the introduction of romance only brings the two of you closer, never going more than an hour separated. its nice to pretend that the two of you aren’t trapped and are instead two lovers on a really weird vacation, spending your days eating magic food, reading books, and making love before doing it all again the next. day.

elisia surprisingly only visit once, silent as a ghost when she appeared in the doorway of the simple chamber room when karlach had decided to join you on a small couch while you were napping, staring at the both of you silently before huffing and leaving in a plume of smoke.

now, you've always been a deep sleeper, something that worried your parents in infancy but became something they were glad for when they heard comparisons to babies that cried all throughout the night. as soon as your head hit a pillow? it was lights out, your body quickly drifting off into a peaceful slumber until you were ready to arise exactly eight hours later.

when you finally start gaining those first few bits of consciousness you feel floaty, high off of what happened the night before, and your body ready to cuddle up to the warm and cozy tiefling still in bed with you.

but when your fingers extend to the soft sheets next to you they feel nothing. she's not there.

your body jerks up, grasping the shirts to cover your chest in a grasp for self-comfort as you look around your room, which is also empty.

you know logically she’s probably off for a short while to get something to eat or doing her daily rounds around the keep, your brain coming up with any scenario other than ‘regretted last night and left you in the dust.’.

before you can come up with more ways to drive yourself crazy, you can hear faint noises in the distance and below you - metal clashing, grunts of exertion, before the sound of someone hitting the wall so roughly that there's no way they didn't break any bones rouses you from your bed, quickly throwing a robe over your body before rushing down the spiraled stairs.

you let out a shrill shriek when a large airborne object nearly takes your head clean off as soon as your foot touches the last step, heart racing so quickly you fear you’ll pass out. your eyes focus on the space in front of you as you quickly try to figure out what danger has entered your ‘home.’

karlach, dressed only in her small sleeping top and trousers is rigid and staring straight at you, clearly disturbed by your scream and unmoving until your subtle nod lets her know you’re unharmed, she has a few bumps and scrapes including a long bleeding gash on her arm, blood trickling down until it reaches her fingers which are gripped around one of the large kitchen knives.

you don't need to ask what the danger is because it'd be hard to miss it even if you were blind. there's a knight standing just a few feet away from her, donned in shining silver armor and holding a similar shining steel sword. his helmet has been thrown aside to reveal an admittedly dashing face and blonde mane, the stereotypical look of a prince charming.

well. charming until he opens his mouth.

“princess y/n! finally, i have found you! your father the king has been contacting numerous kingdoms to track you down and bring you home safely. don't worry about this beast, i will slay it and you will finally be safe from your captors!”

“oh you want a beast i’ll show you a beast, pretty boy-” karlach moves to attack the knight before you step in front of her, placing a gentle hand on her chest to stop her in her tracks.

“how did you get in here, sir?”

“its sir garrick, your highness…” the man answers, eyes flicking between you and the hand you have on karlachs chest. you don't care to move it, though.

“and how did you get in here? you just.. walked through the drawbridge? no other obstacles?”

he nods. and though its an answer it does nothing to help you or karlach answer the question on your minds.

“do you reckon she’s dead?” karlach asks.

“i doubt we could be that lucky.” you roll your eyes and turn to face her, the woman relaxed at your touch but still on guard because the knight is still staring at the two of you like he just saw an owl bear pick up a lute and start singing. you do suppose this was rather odd, a lost princess found in a tower and gravitating to the giant barbaric tiefling rather than the knight in shining armor.

when you look into karlach’s eyes you can see a glimmer of hope inside of them, just the same as when you revealed your feelings for one another and when she’d tell you her dreams of returning to her home city again in the dead of night.

“well clearly she allowed this guy to get in here, or else he’d probably have a goats head and a cows arse by now-“

“excuse me, what’d you say?”

“which means she might allow us to leave, right? probably with some invisible strings attached?” karlach’s hand lightly grips your waist, her smile wide as she even considers the possibility of the both of you leaving.

and while you try your hardest to outwardly match her enthusiasm, your mind is racing with questions and hypotheticals. this woman had a vendetta against your father, went through the trouble to take one of zariels prized soldiers and have her watch over you day in and day out, and now you could just…walk out?

karlach goes to retrieve some proper clothing while you and the ever-so-confused knight stay where you are, the man thankfully answering every question you have while you wait for your companion to come back. you can tell he desperately wants to ask about your closeness, subtly reminding you that he's been trained to take on large threats in enclosed spaces, even fighting numerous devils in his travels. you ignore it as your mind continues to race with the possibilities of what could happen when you walk through that door, if this is all some sick joke and as soon as you walk through the doorway you’ll throw up your own guts.

but it fades when karlach comes bounding back down, fully geared and with a small bag slung over her shoulder, failing to hide the optimistic smile on her face. her large hand encloses around yours, and you cant help but to return the smile and grip her hand just the slightest bit harder.

“alright pretty boy, show us the way home.”

the knight hurriedly nods and starts towards the entrance. when you reach the large stone door, the one you've stared at so many times with despair in your heart, its indescribable the feeling you have when the sun hits your face and the sounds of birds tweeting fills your ears.

karlach is shaking your hand, smile wide and eyes bright at she looks up at the sky for the first time in a decade. as you start to walk she rambles about all the foods she cant wait to try, visiting her home city again, sleeping in a real bed for once, and all you can think is that you would stick yourself in that tower again just to keep her by your side.

[yohanseyebrowmole]

Nepenthes

Link to Wattpad

(n.) Nepenthes is defined as a medicine for great sorrow. It is a place, person, or thing that can aid in forgetting one's pain and suffering. Aelora Targaryen was doomed. She was doomed from the moment she was born, for the mere fact that she was born a woman.

✧ Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!aunt!Targaryen

✧ Warnings: Abuse, Canon typical incest, Pregnancy, Childbirth, Misogyny, Mental Illness, Blood, Gore, Descriptions of miscarriages, Religious fanatics (the faith militant), Slightly OOC aegon (he isn't a complete ass), Death, Bodily and Eating disorders, Psychological Abuse, Imprisonment, Sexual assault, non-con/dub-con (not between main pairing), marital r@pe (she is literally 13 when she gets married), familial violence, Suicidal thoughts, Sexual content, etc.

Sexual content will be marked! Chaps with any potential triggers will be marked!

✧ Status: Incomplete

Character aesthetics

Aelora 'Ella' Targaryen

'I find myself lost in the precipice of my own mind.'

22. A motherless child. The Realm's joy. The people's princess. The broken. The young mother. The docile. The child bride. The pawn. The mad. The dreamer. The beloved sister of golden.

⛧°. ⋆༺♱༻⋆. °⛧

Jacaerys 'Jace' Velaryon

'Then allow me to guide you to safety.'

18. The eldest child. The heir. The black prince. The worthy. The dutiful. The faithful. The loyal. The devoted. The beloved son of delight.

⛧°. ⋆༺♱༻⋆. °⛧

Excerpts from History:

History recounts how the marriage between the young yet ever dutiful black prince and the late wife of the Lord of the iron lands was arranged by the princess's elder brother, Prince Aegon Targaryen. It is that that the prince had learnt of his mother's plans to have his sister wed off to another lord, and was firmly against the notion. He approached his elder sister and the heir to the throne, Rhaenyra Targaryen.

The Lady regent of the Iron Lands was originally against the thought of remarriage at first, however, Prince Aegon was quick to persuade her to agree to the match stating that the black prince would be a better match than any other lord that their mother, Alicent Hightower, would place in front of her.

⛧°. ⋆༺♱༻⋆. °⛧

[dailyadventureprompts]

Villain: The Knights of St. Kazvarin

There's pious and selfless devotion, and then there's whatever these weirdos have going on

Riding forth from their brooding fortress-abbey to do the will of a long dead holy man, these inscrutable warriors have long been the subject of rumour and suspicion. It's not an undeserved reputation, as apart from looting tombs for ancient relics or ominously observing the goings on of the common folk these forboding knights are most often acting as the hired muscle for unscrupulous nobles who have no regard for the legality or virtue of the orders they enforce.

Far more than mercenaries with a patina of piousness, the Knights use these contracts to fund a secret and sinister endeavour that they have undertaken for centuries.

Adventure Hooks:

While delving through a dungeon the party follow a trail of slain monsters to a gravely injured knight and his thoroughly overwhelmed young squire. The boy will introduce them as Tilaen and Ser Darrik respectively and ask for their aid in tending to his master's injuries, before the dour Knight chides him for speaking on his behalf and tells the party to be about their way. Ser Darrik wants no help from "the faithless" and is willing to use the last of his strength to get violent about it. If cooler heads prevail, the party will learn that the two were after a rare manuscript hidden somewhere within the dungeon, and the offer of collaboration might be explored. If the party don't help, they'll find the squire waiting for them at the dungeon's entrance, requesting their help to bury his master and guide him back to their order's abbey. It's only after a few days of travelling together will realize that Squire Tilaen is muchabused by his sect, and that steering the boy away or outright adopting him might be the real kindness.

Acting as a stern and imposing shadow to whatever asshole noble or callous merchant the party have recently pissed off, the towering and always helmed Ser Gelceiras has "Bossfight" written all over him. However when the adventure's final confrontation looms the party find him cleaning off his massive axe, his employer's head in a bloodsoaked bag waiting to be delivered to them. "We got what we wanted from him" he rumbles as he exits, " you can have what's left. no hard feelings."

Just a new threat encroaches on the settlement, a mace wielding bruiser in burnished armour rides up and pledges to fight alongside the party in its defence. Ser Portia's skill as a fighter is sorely needed, perhaps enough to overlook whatever agenda it is that drew her to the settlement in the first place. Shortly after the final battle is fought and the dust clears, the party will realize Portia is nowhere to be seen... having escaped sometime during the aftermath after inexplicably kidnapping one of the locals.

Background: Before he was a sacred corpse, Saint Kazvarin was a necromancer of great talent, having dedicated his life to the study of thanatology and the many loopholes around death. This earned him great renown and wealth in his day, amazing the masses with seances while charging the powerful dearly for cut-rate resurrections. He amassed generous patrons and fanatical followers, only to have it all fall apart when the Raven Queen took an interest.

Kazvarin had and constructed his own bootleg afterlife, a place where his most loyal followers would rest forever in glory before being called back in time of greatest need. Atleast that was the sales pitch, in reality the "saint" had stopped just short of lichdom delving into the shadow to create a demiplane where his own soul would reside undeminished after death, sustained by the faith of his followers as the realm hollowed them out.

Such villainy inevitably created it's own downfall in the form of a young woman who's family were taken in and exploited by Kazvarin's cult. Though her name was not recorded by history, she was marked by the Duskmaven for greatness when she swore to tear down the saint who would conquer death, years later succeeding along with some allies in not only killing the necromancer but cursing him with a most ironic fate. Denying him the afterlife he had so meticulously constructed, the raven queen cursed Kazvarin with reincarnation, forcing his soul to live out a new life where it would forget all he knew and be remade.

It would have been a perfect punishment had the Saint's followers not been so fanatical. Though their organization had been shattered by their "benevolent" leader's apparent assassination, the most loyal of his inner circle poured through his research, finding the spells nessisary to seek out his soul in its new vessel. Thereafter they engaged in a grim hunt, crossing the realms to ritually sacrifice the youth their leader had grown into and pulling free his undigested soul. This is the cycle Kazvarin's followers have been following for generations, spending decades hunting for signs of their leader's return before using murder and necromancy to forcibly deincarnate him. Thereafter Kazvarin has a few months or years to act freely before he is swallowed back up by the tide of souls and the hunt begins again

Future Adventures:

Though they begin as a comparatively minor oddity, the knights become a true threat to the campaign as soon as they figure out who Kazvarin's current incarnation is and manage to wrest his soul out. Ideally this should be someone the party knows, to make it all the more tragic that they were sacrificed to bring about the villain's return.

Though it is much deminished, Kazvarin's demiplane (called the Howling Basilica) still traps the souls of those who have sworn their lives to him, acting as a vault from which he can pull rank upon rank of shadow-maddened spirits to his bidding. His most loyal retainers are allowed to keep their skills and individuality while being deprived of their will, meaning he has a backlog of highly skilled Knights just waiting for new bodies to possess no matter how many times the party defeat them on the field. What's worse is that the saint still remembers how to manipulate people with the offer of offbrand immortality, and will likely begin reaching out to powerful individuals shorty after his return.

Art 1

Art 2

[blackownersseekingsuccess]

Remembering Bayard Rustin: The Unsung Hero of the Civil Rights Movement

written by Levi Wise Kenneth Catoe Jr.

August 1, 2024 - Growing up as a Black boy in Paterson, NJ, and attending Roman and Irish Catholic Parochial schools, Black history was not very familiar to me. I grew up in a religious Southern Baptist family and participated in the church choir. In this context, Martin Luther King, Jr., was all that I knew about Black history until I became a teenage Madonna fanatic. Ironically, Madonna made me aware of Black activists and radicals such as Nina Simone, Jean-Michel Basquiat, James Baldwin, and Bayard Rustin. Bayard Rustin was an African American activist who believed in civil disobedience. Rustin felt that Black people should deliberately break unjust laws but do it non-violently to bring about change and this would play a key role in the Civil Rights movement. He also advocated for LGBTQ rights. Rustin moved to Harlem in 1937 and began studying at City College of New York. It’s interesting to note that at the time CCNY was an all-male college once regarded as ‘Jewish Harvard’ which did not accept Black men—Rustin was an unusual exception. While Rustin was at CCNY he became involved in efforts to defend and free the Scottsboro Boys, nine young black men in Alabama who were accused of raping two white women. Activism for Rustin was something that came naturally. He later became a mentor to Martin Luther King.

Rustin is one of my all-time idols. I have been enamored of him since I learned about him, so I was excited to attend an event dedicated to his life and legacy at the Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture, “Between the Lines: Bayard Rustin, A Legacy of Protest and Politics.” The event was a conversation between Michael G. Long and Jafari Allen, who edited the book of the same name. Their exchange sparked many revelations and I left the event more aware than when I entered. I felt so much pity for the life that Rustin had to live, including the attack on his character that was rallied against him by other Black people and the distance that Martin Luther King placed between himself and Rustin out of fear of people assuming that he was also gay. I also learned that it was Coretta Scott King who introduced King to Rustin. Scott-King met Rustin during her college years as a fellow activist who practiced civil disobedience. She would ultimately introduce her husband King to civil disobedience tactics. Rustin recalled that his first time meeting King he was strapped with a handgun and that he never traveled without his gun. It was Rustin who told King that if he represented civil disobedience he would have to be willing to put away his firearm, which eventually he did. Nevertheless, this raises the question, who was King really? The “I Have A Dream” pacifist or the “Beyond Vietnam” radical? We will never truly know.

All in all what I did learn was that according to Rustin, King had no idea how to organize an event. Instead, it was Rustin who developed the blueprint for King’s early Civil Rights movement, at least until the day that King removed Rustin from his inner circle.

Nevertheless, Rustin returned to organize the March on Washington, despite everything leveled against him by Adam Clayton Powel and Roy Wilkins. Someone noted during the discussion that “it’s funny how karma works given the fact that nobody remembers Wilkins's legacy in comparison to the sudden interest in Rustin.'' If I remember correctly, the comment was made by the moderator, NYU professor Dr. Jarafi Allen, based on the fact that the venue was standing room only, or that the Hollywood lens is now fixated on Rustin’s story, with an Academy Award-nominated movie based upon his life currently in theaters. Wilkins has not received the same interest from Hollywood, perhaps indicating that he is less marketable in the mainstream. Meanwhile, Rustin’s role as an activist for the LGTBQ community is also important for newer generations. Until recently, this legacy and all that he accomplished was invisible, but he has since become a symbol of the “others” and most notably the “forgotten others”. While in his lifetime he was shunned, rallied against, and betrayed by those that he benefitted, history has allowed his legacy the final word.

[hd-hurtcomfort-fest]

***CREATOR REVEALS MASTER LIST***

And that's a wrap, y'all! As we reflect on this fest at its conclusion, we are humbled and honored by the love and support from our fellow fluffy fanatics, angst afficiandos and hurt/comfort connoisseurs. Thank you all for making this an incredible first year.

A very special thank you to all our brilliant participants! This fest is nothing without you and your teams of diligent betas, alphas, and cheerleaders. It takes a village, and we appreciate your efforts.

And finally, this fest would flounder in the void without you, dear readers, viewers, listeners, and reccers! Thank you for joining us on this maiden journey! You stoke our creative fires with your loving and positive support and for this we thank you.

We have planned a few closing posts, including fest stats and our guessing game winner! And participants and reccers, be sure to @ us in your posts so we may reblog!

***MASTER LIST BELOW THE CUT!***

xo Your HD Hurt/Comfort Mods @orangepellets, @peachpety, @vukovich

***CREATOR MASTER LIST***

*** Hyacinth by oknowkiss Angst || M || 7k

My Kingdom For Your Laugh by UsagiTatsu Fluff || G || 9.7k

*** Final Exams at the Curse-Breaker's Academy by IzRoan Hurt/Comfort || M || 20.2k

Of Towers and Tales [ART] by reliand Hurt/Comfort || T || Art

*** The Roommate by Romaine [PODFIC] by CailynWrites Fluff || M || 4hours

a small room under the earth by dracopetal Angst || M || 2.3k

*** Come Hell or High Water by mallstars Hurt/Comfort || M || 22.1k

Divine Intervention by JessicaLuci Fluff || T || 6.5k

*** Harry Potter and the Unintended Horcrux by aCanadianMuggle Hurt/Comfort || E || 59k

*** isn't a kingdom by garagepaperback Hurt/Comfort || E || 53.2k

*** A Surprising Agenda by Orpheous87 Fluff || G || 7.3k

You only feel it when it's lost [ART] by Pato_roldnart Hurt/Comfort || T || Art

*** Fine-Fractured Halo by Rainjuly Angst || E || 29k

Something We Create by DayDreamingFoxglove Fluff || E || 16.5k

*** Future Histories by thecouchsofa Fluff || T || 6k

(Not) a Hot Nurse by Etteee Fluff || G || 2k

*** En Passant by DodgerKedavra Hurt/Comfort || E || 45.4k

*** Be still my beating heart. by Lizziedrip Hurt/Comfort || T || 18.4k

Pain: ON by The_saphire_potterhead Hurt/Comfort || M || 17.2k

*** Thief by shushu_yaoi_lj (orange-peony) Hurt/Comfort || E || 21.5k

Malfoy's Moving Manor [ART] by Yoro_Kobi (Aphlaton) Fluff || G || Art

*** The Malfoys vs Family Counseling by duchessdulce Fluff || T || 24.4k

Piece by Piece by TheBashfulPoet Hurt/Comfort || E || 6.5k

*** and another one by nv-md Fluff || M || 1.6k

Seven Year Itch by mintaminta Angst || E || 5.6k

*** An Extremely Indecent Proposal by Jelliebabie Hurt/Comfort || E || 33.2k

*** Live Laugh Love, Draco Malfoy by Phantasmagoria Hurt/Comfort || E || 16.4k

The Stories We Tell by Maraudersaffair Hurt/Comfort || E || 10.7k

*** Let Me Stay by Phoebe_Delia Hurt/Comfort || M || 1k

At the Center by violenttulips [PODFIC] by reveriepi Hurt/Comfort || E || 10-20min

*** Black Books by Sarendal Fluff || E || 14.5k

*** S.P.U.N.K. by my_castlescrumbling (Cas) Fluff || M || 4.3k

close enough by lucio Angst || M || 2.2k

*** Fate's Caveat by Squibnation10 Angst || M || 43.4k

[forestdeath1]

The Black family as representatives of ancient "Anglo-Saxon elite"

To me Blacks were never partially French. I'm not saying the headcanon "Blacks are partially French" isn't valid, it's just not as interesting to me and it strips away nuances from their history. Here's why.

(It’s just my fantasies mixed with historical facts! Don’t take it too seriously)

Firstly, their choice of surname.

I've noticed that two main Death Eater families bear surnames of French and Norman origin. Lestrange and Malfoy (fictional, but the "origin" is clear). And then there's Rosier and Avery. Rosier – definitely French, and Avery – from the Middle English and Anglo-Norman French personal name Aevery, a Norman form of Alfred. There are no other surnames like this in Harry Potter, except for Peverell (correct me if I'm wrong).

Clearly, this is a reference to the Norman Conquest of 1066. These Death Eaters could be associated with aristocratic and influential families who came to England after the Norman Conquest. This is a nod to the historical division in English society between Normans and Anglo-Saxons, where Normans represented the upper echelon of society, while Anglo-Saxons were less privileged.

Yes, I'm Captain Obvious here. So let's move on to the Blacks.

The surname Black is typically Anglo-Saxon. It could have derived from the Old English word 'blæc,' meaning 'black' or 'dark,' and may have been used to describe someone who wore black clothing or had dark hair.

(Old English emerged around the 5th-6th centuries and was used in England for about 600 years, until the 11th century. This period ended after the Norman Conquest in 1066).

Hogwarts, canonically, appeared over 1000 years ago. That is, before the Norman Conquest. (But Hogwarts Castle couldn't exist yet, because castle technology was brought by the Normans). The Blacks call themselves "the noble and most ancient house of Black." That is, the oldest family, and also the noblest. Maybe they were "noble" in the sense that they belonged to the elite of Anglo-Saxon society (which was fragmented into small kingdoms). But they consider themselves the oldest family among those who trace their lineage and uphold the nobility (purity) of their blood. Considering that "Hogwarts" appeared before the Norman Conquest, I fantasize that such families already existed back then. A lot of families are extinct. Except the Blacks.

So the Blacks are a reflection of "Anglo-Saxon aristocracy." And here I headcanon that the Blacks still considered themselves more entitled than everyone else, mocked the Malfoys and Rosiers, and generally looked down on anything French. Fanatics to the bone and lovers of elevating themselves above all.

Why the motto in French – in the Middle Ages, the use of Latin and French languages was common among European aristocracy (despite the fact that there is NO aristocracy among wizards, but they could have been part of the aristocracy before the introduction of the Statute of Secrecy). The French language was often considered the language of diplomacy and culture, and its use in mottos and coats of arms was a common phenomenon. Here I just headcanon that one of the Blacks either had a strange sense of humour, or wanted to put an end to the ancient feud of the Blacks with all things French and start the family on some new beginnings. Maybe they married someone with French roots to expand their influence.

Of course, all this can be explained differently. The headcanon that the Blacks have some French part also makes sense. But for me personally, that's not so interesting, considering the obvious connections of the Lestranges and Rosiers with France (Vinda Rosier, Lestrange family Mausoleum in Paris). I prefer the Blacks who are so arrogant that they even consider themselves "true English wizards," not "like those Malfoys." And I headcanon that this was not a real confrontation, but rather a pretext for jokes and fuel for greater kindling of their vanity.

[cupidastrology]

asteroid lust 4386 through the 12 houses ୨୧ 18+

please do not repost or copy <3

asteroid lust 4386 readings are currently open 🩷

read about what asteroid lust is about in this post.

you may read briefly on what asteroid lust is all about + what they play involving the 12 signs in this post .

to be brief, asteroid lust is the internal and deep desire to connect with another person, place, or thing. depending on where and how it's involved in your birth chart, it shows what you feel lustfully, deeply, intimately, and fanatically in that area of the birth chart.

asteroid lust 1st house - you find kinks and ways of arousal in the environment you're familiar with or what you are finding out for the first time. to be able to discover a new space to indulge in brings a fresh outlook on how to express yourself sexually and sensually. you are forever curious, cultivating new experiences with sexual fantasy.

asteroid lust 2nd house - you tie your kinks and sexual fantasies with your emotions, which may push and pull often due to constantly indulging yourself in new experiences. sexuality is heightened here, because emotions (represented by 2h) connect to curiosity and wanting a sense of intimacy. you are ready to mingle but you always land kinky experiences intimately or privately.

asteroid lust 3rd house - you are experimental and you can't help but think various areas of sex, wanting to try out different experiences with others. you may have a hand for drumming up fantasies for others, or have the ability to bring a sense of romantic energy to the bedroom with your words. sexting, dirty talking, and verbal words are a turn on.

asteroid lust 4th house - it can be hard to find the desire to reach out and share yourself sexually or in terms of expressing your sexuality with this asteroid in this home. you may have a kink for family, or reproduction, wanting to know how it would feel to belong as one with another person. you are discreet and private in the way you understand intimacy and fantasy with sexual relations.

asteroid lust 5th house - the ability to perform and create a fantasy for others may be a massive turn on for you with this position. you may want to perform to entice or drum up sexual energies, bringing a sense of healing even in artistry. photography or film may bring energies of sexuality to the forefront, healing any shame or jealousy that others may have of you. others desire the way you create the energy to attract others.

asteroid lust 6th house - you thrive off of the sexual fantasy of tending and healing your partner. you may even have strong feelings or desires towards self pleasure methods (such as masturbation mainly). there is a desire to indulge with others in a more holistic and natural way of sexual healing or understanding, like the use of hands, the mouth, and the eyes.

asteroid lust 7th house - youre drawn to the connection and intimacy of another's touch. you may want to always understand what another feels in order to feel satisfied. a partner's moans, actions, and positions in the bedroom may entice you to have even strong fantasies than the usual. a desire to be claimed and possessed in the cards with this position.

asteroid lust 8th house - sexual fantasy is based on the true emotions and intimacy of the self, in order to give to another. in this position, there is heightened greed with what you wish to give or share. you may possess an ability to attract the darkest of sexual fantasy, possibly bringing it to light in a reality. your desires may be shunned or shamed, giving it attention in privacy.

asteroid lust 9th house - travel and forms of spiritual belief connect to your sexual desires. you may be seen in a light of worship of others. your open mindness towards sexual fantasy may be present in all intimate connections you have.. you are interested in possible forms of knowledge or history of sex.

asteroid lust 10th house - you can't help but be in the spotlight around sexual desire and fantasy. you are desired and when it comes to intimate connects, they feel your need for them. sexual fantasy has to do with associations of major success. you may be judged for what you want in sexual dreams.

asteroid lust 11th house - friendships and specifically friends to lovers may be a subject connected to many sexual dreams and fantasies in mind with this placement. you may have alot of friends listing over you or always have this great ability to create scenarios involving best friends becoming so much more. you wish to have a fantasy that involved familiarity.

asteroid lust 12th house - your sexual fantasies may derive from tough and hard times in your life. you may be interested in ritualistic and forbidden forms of sex, you may even keep your desires locked inside yourself like pandora's box, never unsealed. you may express your desires around sex in ways that others want to sabotage, you know about sex in ways that it's almost dreamlike.

[sinizade]

Nerilynn Ernarre

Paladin of Selune (with mods ofc I want to dream)

Romance: Halsin

Bestie: Jaheira / Halsin / Zevlor

Previously a follower of Shar who abandoned her dark beliefs to follow the light of Selune after falling in love with a Selunite who converted her with whom she married and had a daughter, but simply abandoning Shar would not be something easy and without consequences. Nerilynn received a curse that took away her vision in the dark and now haunts her mind with vivid nightmares and it was thanks to this curse that she killed her own husband and her newborn daughter... Now a paladin sworn to revenge, Nerilynn hunts down and eliminates Shar's fanatical followers, always leaving a message for those who still have the chance to surrender to Selune's light, giving the youngest the chance to choose their path before accepting the Dark Lady embrace.

Even at the Lady of Silver's church, Nerilynn never needed to take care of the younger ones precisely because of her family history that made her brothers and sisters apprehensive about allowing her to get close to the younger ones, but that damn tadpole in her head gave her a taste of why she had always avoided that... Humans, elves, a Githyanki with serious anger issues, and a clearly hyperactive tiefling who now followed her wherever she went, they weren't bad people, but Nerilynn had never been forced to spend so much time with so many troubled young ones like she has been through, her only outlet was Jaheira and Halsin who at least shared their thoughts about these troubled young ones at the camp.

Shadowheart was a challenge, a BIG challenge... Every day Nerilynn tried very hard not to rip that insolent and intolerant child's head off, but at the same time she was angry, she felt sorry for her, such a young girl suffering in the clutches of those who follow the Dark Lady, having her mind corrupted and destroyed little by little... Remembering that one day Nerilynn was in Shadowheart's place, remembering that she managed to get out of this dark world even with consequences was what gave her hope.

After so many years Nerilynn never thought she would fall in love again, feel again what she felt with her first husband and, for a moment, she even felt as if she was cheating on her husband, but Halsin managed to push that thought away from her. .. He took care of her, understood her limitations and what happened in her past. Not even the distance kept them apart, after the defeat of Absolute each one had different ideals for their own future, but in a way, such different plans ended up merging at times and both always ended up meeting again.

Some extra information about Nerilynn

Her dream guardian have the appearance she imagined her daughter would look like if she had the opportunity to grow up

Even though she loves Halsin very much, she doesn't see herself living in the middle of the woods with him... She's a city lady with an important position in the Selunite church, continuing with a long-distance relationship seems like the best option for both of them

She and Shadowheart traveled together to visit and see her parents' Selunite church

Even with all the difficulties, Shadowheart became a daughter to Nerilynn

[the-ace-with-spades]

There's one fic idea from another fandom that I never wrote and would like to adapt to the TGM fandom, which is tattoo artist/florist but more like they're both tattoo artists but one of them doesn't know that (have I mentioned this before? i feel like I did)

tw: mentions of addiction and ODing

I'm thinking this happens in San Fran/Portland/Settle/Washington DC

Bradley had his papers pulled and accidentally started working part-time in a tattoo shop (just cleaning) and absolutely fell in love with tattoo art and switched majors from engineering to art history/etc. in his second semester. Not long after he started an apprenticeship at the same tattoo shop, his thesis was about tattoo art history and he became a well-known academic in the field and a popular tattoo artist.

Carole used to love flowers and had a very varied garden at their house and flower illustrations everywhere - Bradley used to draw flowers on every card for her - so flowers became his specialty

He now runs a tattoo shop (The Bloom) with Natasha, who he met at a tattoo competition TV show (because I'm a sucker for reality shows rn...) and flies as a side gig, but he also has part-time gigs at different colleges.

He is tattooed all over, but only on the parts of his body he can cover in some ways - it's really funny when he lectures because he looks like a stereotypical professor, cardigans, collared shirts, khakis and all, but sometimes when it's hot, he rolls up his sleeves and people can see his full-sleeve tattoos.

Now, Jake had a completely different route to the place he is at now. He got mixed with the wrong crowd and got kicked out of the Naval Academy first year, he got mixed with an even worse crowd when his family didn't take him back when he returned and he was an addict for some time. He had one of those born-again christian turn arounds - not in a super fanatic way, just woke up one day in a hospital after a close call with his (religious) crying mom praying with a rosary over him and realized he needed to change something about his life or he's going to destroy everyone around him. He starts going to church with his ma and gets a little involved in the local Christian charity, etc etc.

One of the therapies he attended was art therapy and at first, he thought it was bullshit but then he actually liked it and even designed some of his own tattoo cover-ups at the sessions (he had shitty tattoos he had done when he was high or drunk that reminded him about worse times). The tattoo artist who did his coverups was actually impressed and offered him training, which he took up.

Most of his shittiest tattoos are covered now, but he still has not very thought-through tattoos on his face, some of which are too big to ever do much about them, and some blackout tattoos, so he looks very 'stereotypically'.

Due to his background, cover-ups, black only, and trad/neo-trad tatttos are his specialty. He is also really good at pigmentation and tattoo restoration/longevity.

Now, Jake moves out of Texas with his mom after his dad (who has been completely unsupportive of him since he got kicked out of USNA) passed away, to be closer to his sister and her kids who lived on the other side of the states. He filters around, taking part-time gigs at other studios and gigs he gets from social media.

Eventually, he opens a tattoo shop with Javy, on the other side of the street as The Bloom is. Due to the amount of flowers and the name of the studio, he assumes it's a flower shop.

He and Bradley run into each other in a local coffee shop (run by Reuben and Mickey) and Jake, seeing Bradley's getup, is still under the impression Bradley is a florist.

Bradley spills Jake's coffee and asks him on a date when he pays back for his coffee a few days later

(Bob, working a street away, is the actual local florist)

[grassoftunnel]

On Genji…

The way its phrased in the ps3 Witch Hunt translation Genji says “I am a native of Taiwan”and let me tell you…the way my face CRACKED as an asian to read that and realise how hes so happily subservient as a BUTLER to this proud japanese fascist!

But then looking at the wiki it seems more unclear whether he said that because hes ethnic japanese who was born and raised there (as opposed to ethnic taiwanese who assimilated) vs kinzo who migrated with his family as a child.

I then looked it up and found the history of taiwan and its occupation by japan and how that affects its peoples identity, and for many people who lived through that generation, the memory of that time is complex and radically different from most other parts of asia (THOUGH DISCLAIMER IM BY NO MEANS AN EXPERT IM JUST SOME IDIOT WHO READ EXTREMELY SHALLOWLY AND BRIEFLY TO GET A ROUGH OVERVIEW). And ethnic japanese or not, his family were unambiguous shameless (proud, even) imperial collaborators and profiteers. Who were clearly embodying japanese ideals, culture, etc. even if they weren’t ethnically japanese, they had totally assimilated. Then after japanese surrender, Taiwan is plunged into political turmoil with the economic and political elites of which Genji was a part, being made to bleed and starve just like everyone else. Which is probably why in the manga, Genji is all disheveled and in a bad way when Kinzo finds him. Kinzo really did rescue Genji from having to continue to live through that.

Also…as a young master in Taiwan, of a family making their fortune off of imperial collaboration, Genji has spent his entire life turning away from difficult things and benefitting from a way of life built on the suffering of others. < edited to remove a line indicating that ryukishi deliberately named the ushiromiya siblings after nazis, this is pure speculation, as well as more lines of speculation about the intentionality, originally I firmly leaned toward it being unintentional, of Ryukishis critical portrayal of fascism in Umineko, I’ve since been told more about its portrayal in his other works and it’s changed my mind, see the replies if you’re interested!), but it goes to show Genji is a seasoned doublethinker…

It almost makes me laugh seeing him apologise to Sayo after everything, when really imo it only served to muddle up the painful feelings tearing apart her heart even more. It’s really incredible how he’s able to genuinely feel that pain for her while not regretting loving and serving Kinzo and really doing all of this for his sake. Sayo’s entire life was a pet project of his for Kinzo’s sake, or imo for Genji’s sake, since it’s very explicitly his way of “saving” Kinzo from himself. If it was really for her sake and not Kinzo’s he would have made it so she would live a life far away from Rokkenjima and never have to be burdened by this awful truth. While he cared for Sayo in his own way, she was ultimately a prop in Kinzo’s life, in Genji’s mind. Anything and everything to care for and protect and provide for this man who he loved so much...

Genji is such an absolutely evil bastard who ruined Sayo’s life (with not one waver in regards to his purpose for raising her like he did) and was an accessory to the almost unthinkably horrific life ruining of her mother. And not even for money like Kumasawa and Nanjo (who had his friendship with Kinzo but nothing approaching Genji’s Everything..). but out of an unmatched passion and almost fanatical identity revolving around servility to Him…

Theres really nowhere else hes happier or more fulfilled, than by his Master’s side. Double crunchy because Kinzo first loved him as his peer, and after rescuing him from Taiwan, Genji, as a point of principle, refuses to meet him as anything but his loyal servant.

Mrs Danvers and Max von Mayerling are actually individuals with normal psychological profiles compared to Genji Ronoue ahahaha. And if anything lmfao at least Mrs Danvers and Max von Mayerling got to hit! Genji the eternal service top in body and spirit but crucially not in practice….

[aestariiwilderness]

TW: GRAPHIC, GORE, CHILD MURDER. More included in the source; I wish I had not seen.

This is heartbreaking. When you need to coin a new word for the evil Hamas rejoiced in. Torturing, mutilating, and killing infants and children in front of parents; torturing, mutilating, and killing parents in front of children. Burning families alive.

There is no justification for this.

This was evil, plain and simple. Everyone who supports Hamas also supports this. Hamas will die -- as an idea and as a group. It's inevitable. When the name is spit on or forgotten in history books, and cowards round the globe hastily distance themselves from what they so fanatically supported not so long ago -- when all that happens, Israel will still be there.

But in the meantime, if you can look at crimes like this and still support Hamas, still insist Israel has no right to exist, still insist Israel doesn't have the right to win a war she didn't start -- May God have mercy on you. (Hamas won't.)