#fixed it now it should be in accusative case i guess?????

[hikaruchen]

To Embrace and Kiss the Lord.

INPRNT

-

Speedpaint Video:

[ash5monster01]

Learning to Love Epilogue

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x FemReader!PlusSize

Warnings: 18+, langauge, angst, fluff, mentions of bullying, body image issues, fat shaming, fake relationship, eventual smut, minor enemies to lovers trope.

Summary: It's not uncommon for you to be shamed for your size, it is however uncommon to be told that no one would ever date you because of it. Rafe on the other hand is used to being called a jerk, that is until he is accused of seeing people for only what's on the surface. It's purely coicidental you two meet right after these accusations are thrown your way. So even though you two don't know each other, and probably never would've looked the others way before this, now you're both going to prove a point. It's simple really, prove others wrong and don't fall in love. Easier said than done.

word count: 3k

Part 10 ←

Masterlist

Rafe wasn’t sure what to do. Now knowing you had overheard some of his conversation he knew how bad it looked. He was prepared to fix it, thing was he needed to come up with a plan. He was tired of dancing around you, never truly saying what he actually meant. This time he was going to prove to you that he wanted you and no one else. He wanted you exactly the way you were. The only problem was how do you convince a girl she’s worth it when she’s spent her whole life thinking she’s not? So Rafe was going to take his time because he was prepared to spend the rest of his time with you. That was until Mila sent him a new text.

Mila

A wave a sickness quickly washed over him at his desk, hand tightly gripping his phone as panic slowly replaced that sickness. The idea of you on a date made him want to kill whoever the hell the guy was and he had a feeling he knew exactly who it was. Slamming his phone down he dialed the pager on his desk phone to his assistant Kaitlyn.

“Yes Mr. Cameron” she answered almost instantaneously. After all of this he needed to remember to give her a raise.

“Get me AJ, now” and Kaitlyn scrambled out an okay while Rafe tried his best not to seethe at the thought of you trying to erase him completely. It’s only ten minutes later when AJ walks through his office door.

“Kaitlyn said you needed me” the smile on her face suggests she’s assuming some kind of hookup but when she spots his angry face she realizes fairly quickly this is not the case.

“You have a Tanner that works for you down there” Rafe nods his chin down to where AJ’s marketing floor lies.

“Yeah, Tanner Mason. He’s one of my best” she says fondly of her workers and Rafe nods as he processes his thoughts.

“Yeah, well today he’s just too good. I need you to up his work load, enough paperwork he won’t be getting home until midnight tonight. I don’t even care if you have to send someone home to do it” AJ quickly furrows her eyebrows, confused at what was going on.

“I don’t understand” she says, confused why Rafe who should have no clue who this worker is, is suddenly targeting him.

“Tanner has decided to ask my girl on a date, one he thinks he’s attending tonight, I’m going to make sure that doesn’t happen” AJ wears a surprised look, realizing how serious he is right now.

“Why would she even be going out with him if she’s dating you?” AJ instantly questions, looking to place blame on her but Rafe just sighs.

“She dumped me and didn’t even say why. So I’m going to get her back. Whatever means necessary” the shocked face that crossed AJ’s features doesn’t surprise Rafe, yet he doesn’t back down.

“I guess I can send Emmet home, tell Tanner he’s sick and I need a completed ad by the end of the day” AJ finally says after a beat and Rafe smiles a sly grin.

“You’re the best AJ” he says and AJ rolls her eyes as she begins to stand up.

“You’re lucky we’ve been friends so long and I’m partial to you actually being in love. Believe it or not but there was a point in time I didn’t think you were capable. It’s nice to see you care so deeply about someone” and Rafe knows she’s referring to him never reciprocating her feelings during their time together. He would feel guilty but after all of this he knows now you can’t help who you fall in love with, you’re just along for the ride.

“It feels nice” he tells her and she lets out a chuckle before heading towards the door.

“You owe me, and I want to be front row at the wedding” she tells him and the blush that crosses his cheeks surprises her.

“Anything you want” and she accepts this answer before leaving the office and towards Emmet’s. She would’ve sent him home even if Rafe gave her no reason. Everything Rafe did had a purpose.

Rafe now content with the start of his plan being set in motion glances at the picture of you on his desk. The selfie you had taken in his lap that day you were here. He knows now he’s never going to move it, loving having your smiling face looking back at him. He was determined to have you smile at him like that again so he finally responds to Mila’s text.

Mila

Rafe didn’t care that she called him out on his behavior. He used to be a very different type of insane and she should be glad that this was the only crazy thing he was willing to do these days. You had changed him for the better and he wasn’t going to lose you now. He needed it to at least be real. To know that sleeping with you made it official and not some way of using you. He wanted you the way you were forever and he was willing to go back to his old ways to make it happen.

“He’s not answering me” you groan to Mila on the couch. You had been dressed for your date for the last hour, waiting for Tanner to pick you up but so far it hadn’t been done.

“Maybe he got caught up at work, I mean you know the boss” Mila snorts out and she’s glad her acting is good enough that you can’t tell she’s internally panicking. Rafe had her delete Tanners message, one where he informed you he got stuck at work and would have his phone off the rest of the day. You’re oblivious and Mila is praying this plan doesn’t blow up in her face.

“That’s not funny” you tell her with a pout but before Mila could say anything the doorbell rang. You nervously scrambled to answer it only to be met with an older gentleman and a limo in the street behind him.

“Hello Miss, Tanner is running a bit late so he’s asked me to escort you to the restaurant. Are you all set to go?” the formality shocks you and Mila realizes fairly quickly Tanner wasn’t the one who sent this limo at all. In defense of her best friend she should stop her but even Mila knew Rafe wouldn’t have planned all of this without purpose.

“Damn, a limo! Can I tag along just to ride?” Mila asks and the chauffeur just smiles at her, told to comply with any requests.

“Could she please?” you ask the man and he nods quickly.

“Of course, what fun is a limo without guests” he says before stepping out the way and gesturing in the direction of it.

“Thank you!” you say before grabbing Mila’s hand and rushing her to the limo. You had been full blown panicking now, not having gone on a real date in ages. Now it was even more intimidating riding in a limo there.

“God, drink some champagne and chill” Mila says when she spots your nervous behavior in the back of the limo. She was already on her second glass.

“I am chill” you defend as she hands you a glass that you have down in two full gulps.

“Yeah right” she mutters as you hold out the glass, awaiting her to pour more. She obeys and doesn’t say anything more as she lets you drink in peace and sits beside you in support.

It’s not long until the limousine pulls up in front of one of the most beautiful restaurants you had ever seen. Never would you have guessed a marketing job would provide such big bucks like this, yet you don’t complain. All you do is glance at Mila who has now ditched the glass to drink champagne straight from the bottle. She smiles and gives you a thumbs up which is all the confidence you need to leave the car when the chauffeur opens the door.

“Thank you…” you trail off, realizing you don’t know his name as he releases your hand from helping you out the vehicle.

“Harold” he tells you and you smile softly.

“Thank you Harold, sorry you have to deal with her alone” you gesture back to the car with a chuckle.

“I heard that!” Mila calls from inside and Harold lightly laughs with you.

“Tanner should be here soon, just tell the hostess you have a reservation under Tanner Mason” he informs you and you nod, filled with nerves because you didn’t even know his last name was Mason until now. You suppose that’s the whole point of going on this date though, getting to know each other. So you walk into the restaurant anyways and do as told where a hostess leads you to a private booth, jazz music playing over the chatter of people, and candles lighting up the dim table.

“Sorry I’m late” a smile crosses your face before you even register that it wasn’t Tanner’s voice. Rafe notices how quickly the smile vanishes as he slides into the spot where Tanner is supposed to be.

“Why are you here?” you glare, not in any mood for a stunt of his tonight. You were moving on, trying things you never had before. You didn’t need him here and messing it up.

“Tanner got caught up at work, something about a coworker being sick and a deadline to meet by tonight” Rafe says this sentence so naturally but you know he has something to do with it. Tanner would have never planned a date let alone not contacted you about it, yet you suppose Rafe had something to do with that too.

“So what? you thought you’d just come and fill in. Take his place for the night?” you scoff, arms crossing over your chest and immediately thinking of ways to get out of this restaurant.

“Try forever. You shouldn’t be with him Y/N! You should be with me” he groans out, hands fisting the table cloth in front of you both.

“That’s never going to happen” you say with the shake of your head, trying to look anywhere but him.

“Why? We spent that night together, I thought it was finally real. That you would finally let me love you and instead you blocked me on everything!” he countered and as much as hearing that he wanted you that didn’t change fact.

“Really Rafe, me too! Which is why I came by your office as soon as I could just to hear you talking with AJ about your current sex life. How shocked she was to hear you’d sleep with me at the same time as her. Luckily I left just as I heard you start talking about not being attracted to big girls” Rafe instantly goes back to that conversation in his head, realizing AJ had used present tense when talking with him.

“I haven’t slept with AJ in over two years. I cross my heart, I haven’t even been with anyone the entirety of the time we spent together. You have to believe me” he begs, needing you to know it wasn’t true. He was desperate for you to know it was true.

“Even if that’s true Rafe, I can’t be with someone who isn’t attracted to me. I get that I’m no beauty standard and I understand my body isn’t the healthiest but I deserve to be loved for all the things that make me, me. That includes being overweight” you say, fighting the tears that burn at the back of your eyes. You didn’t want to cry over him anymore. It wasn’t worth it.

“You don’t understand Y/N, you walked away before I could finish that day. I was saying I had never been attracted to big girls before and up until now I didn’t know why. You’re so beautiful, I love everything about you. I love the way your hair always falls in your face and how when you laugh to loudly you cover your mouth with your hands. Beauty isn’t a standard, it’s just in the eye of the beholder. Anyone is beautiful when you love them and baby I love you more than you know. I love you so much that you’re the most beautiful girl in the world to me. As long as I have you, no other girl in the world matters” and the tears break free in full force, shock painting your features as Rafe’s words resonate with you. You want to believe he’s lying but what reasoning would he have? Based on his own tears in his eyes you realize that Rafe is telling you the whole truth for maybe the first time in the entirety of your relationship with him.

“You love me, exactly the way I am?” you can’t help but ask and Rafe chuckles, reaching long arms across the table to brush away your tears.

“I do, I love you more than anything and no matter what happens I always will” he says, sincerity cracking his voice and finally a smile appears on your face, chuckling through the tears.

“Well how in the hell did that happen?” you ask, the backs of your hands wiping the tears from your face while Rafe laughs at your words.

“I don’t know, guess it’s got something to do with this really cool girl I met in a bar” Rafe says and finally you stand from your side of the booth, rushing over to his own where he happily accepts you into his arms.

“You promise it’s real, everything?” you ask and Rafe smiles, a hand reaching and tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

“It always was” he tells you and that’s enough for you to lock your lips against his own. He kisses you like he can’t possible get enough, tongue sliding past your lips as your hands toy with his hair at the nape of his neck. He is everything you ever wanted and for the first time you deserved.

“I can’t believe you hijacked my date to get me to talk to you” you say when you finally break apart, heavy breaths falling past your lips from how deeply he was kissing you.

“I had to do something, you blocked me on everything with no explanation” he says with a bewildered look and you can’t help but laugh before pulling his lips to your own and kissing him again.

“I needed something effective to get you out of my system” you tell him and he grins, squeezing you tightly against him and in no hurry to let you go.

“You remember when we first hung out and I asked you if you had ever been in love before?” he asks you gently after a moment and you nod, softly leaning against him.

“Yeah and I told you I’d like to think I was but I wasn’t sure” you respond, remembering that day in his apartment so clearly. How much fun you had ended up having while hanging out with him.

“I only asked because I had realized I’d never been in love before, but now if someone asks me I can confidently say yes” he says with a grin and you can only giggle at the handsome boy in front of you.

“When did Rafe Cameron become such a sap?” you asked, knowing you’d seen every side of Rafe other than this.

“I’m only a sap for you so don’t go telling anyone” he tells you and for a single moment you’re the happiest you’ve ever been in the arms of the man you love. Rafe was your first and hopefully only love and you couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your life getting to know him even more.

“Who would’ve thought a fake date would teach me how to love someone” you say to him and Rafe grins.

“Is that you finally saying you love me back, because I definitely have you beat on confessions tonight” he teases and you laugh loudly, hand covering your mouth which Rafe removes as he grins back at you.

“I love you Rafe Cameron, bad boy persona and all” you say and he pecks a sweet kiss to your lips.

“Learning to love, who would’ve thought it’d be me” he says referring to the journey you both had been on, going from loners to two people in love with each other.

“I sure as hell didn’t” you say and Rafe smiles just as the wine he had called ahead and ordered arrived to the table.

“This wasn’t Tanners date at all was it?” you ask and Rafe only grins, not embarrassed by his actions at all.

“Nope, this is all me. He texted and cancelled while you were in the shower and I had Mila delete it” he admits and you gasp, lightly smacking his arm as he goes to set a wine glass in front of you.

“You two are devious” you say and he shrugs, arm wrapping around your shoulders as he pulls you close and sips from his glass of wine.

“Devious but successful” he tells you and you shake your head before laying it on his shoulder.

“You’re lucky I love you both” you tell him and he smiles, lips pressing a soft kiss against your forehead.

“Yeah, we definitely are”

Taglist: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @fishingirl12 @houseofperfecttaste @abbybarnesstuff @carma-fanficaddict @jjmaybankisbae @exhaustedbutelated @diagnosedpsychosis @daivny @drewstarkeygf @vinniehackersbaee @emsgoodthinkin @apollo3475 @https-urwife @willowalexissss @kisstaya @hcneyedsstuff @lexiereblogs @drewsuncrustables @mveggieburger @marvel4life3000 @bibliophilewednesday @humungouspatrolwolf @ijustwanttoreadlols @jaijustreads @sleepjam @dilvcv @aaronhotchswife @sunshine1218 @lavenderhazeq @theultimatefrenchfangirl @kravitzwhore @chalahyung01 @jenniferpendragon @kitty-marie725 @dlwritings @writevanna @alenerz @h34rtsformilli @just-cuz22 @superbreadsoul

a/n: and that’s a wrap. thank you so much everyone for coming with me on this journey and I hope you fell in love with their story as much as I did. clearly Rafe and the reader have a beautiful future ahead of them, no longer lost in the world. as for you my dear and loyal readers I wish this for all of you, not only find love but learning how to 🤍

[sangoqueenkoko]

NEUVILLETTE

final verdict

angst

MAIN MASTERLIST | HYDRO MASTERLIST

.

part 1 | part 2 (you are here!)

If both parts do well, I’ll write an alternate ending!

Summary: You were falsely accused of a horrific crime, and the verdict is announced... you do not take it well. And neither does Neuvillette. But you both have to accept the fate chosen. Set before the 4.2 archon quest.

Warnings? Inspired by the 4.2 Archon quest, so be cautious if you haven't completed it yet! This is rusty because I haven't written in so long. I am so so so so so so sorry! I'm trying my best! (L/N) means Last Name!

DEATH. IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, THEN TURN AWAY NOW. DON'T SAY I DIDN'T WARN YOU!!

Contains the appearance of Furina, Wriothesley, and Neuvillette of course!

So this was it.

You never would have guessed that your life would come to an end this early. Especially like this. When you were a young teenager, you always dreamed of finding the right person to spend the rest of your life with, having a family, travel around Teyvat. That dream stuck with you until your sentencing.

You now have no dreams. Apart from hoping to be realised as innocent before it is too late. That's what you hope for.

You were currently held in a cell by yourself with nothing to do, confined to what little space you had to roam in. You have no idea where this said cell is either.

You've asked the guards when you've had the chance, countless times to talk to the Iudex, aka Neuvillette. Because he surely must know what's going on and how to fix it. But they've ignored you every time, or just said no. You pray to Celestia whenever you can in hopes something goes in your favour.

If only you realised earlier on that that would never happen.

Meanwhile, outside of your imprisonment, Fontaine was in the midst of a storm, it has been raining on and off ever since your sentencing, there haven't been any trials since, and Neuvillette has either confined himself in his office or somewhere where no one thought to look for him, he could openly let his tears fall without being questioned.

Of all people, why you? he openly wept. What was never said during the trial was that you weren't by yourself when the crime was committed. You, in fact, were with Neuvillette himself.

The streets of the city were practically empty as it was dark out, the only sounds that could be heard were distant people closing up their shops, or animals roaming the streets, you two were taking a walk, catching up after not seeing each other for a little while as you both had other things to do.

If only they knew.

You are innocent.

Time past. The sky has been grey for a while now, and florists have had a decline in sales since the sun has been hidden behind the clouds and nothing will grow correctly or as strongly as it should.

Soon enough. The time had come.

And the whole city already knew. It was in the tabloids straight away and it was days before.

You knew that many people would see this and put it in the papers, Neuvillette and your family would see it too.

You had handcuffs on your wrist behind your back, head down as you walked, Wriothesley was walking by you, looking forward, not turning to speak or look in your general direction, he was tasked to guide you in case you were to suddenly attack for whatever reason, it was hard for him, as you have met him a few times too. He was basically turned against you, against your will.

Furina was somewhere. She had to be. She would have wanted to see this, even if it's such a sick thought, wanting to watch someone die right in front of them.

Sick.

Before you knew it, you were shackled. If you wanted to run, you couldn't.

You hadn't seen Neuvillette or heard of him recently. You wonder how he's doing, how he's doing with the news and recent events.

You heard someone talk once you were in place. But you couldn't hear nor register who it was or what they were saying.

You were in some sort of glass chamber with a set of pipes from above. People were gathered to watch. Most of the people that were gathered were the people who thought that you deserved it, they were happy about the current position you were in.

People of authority were there.

Furina, Wriothesley,...

Neuvillette.

The both of you made eye contact, he saw the tears in your eyes and the fear on your face. He just wanted to freeze time and save you, keep you safe and clear your name.

If only that was possible.

There were more lines spoken by... someone before your attention was drawn to the sounds from the pipes above you.

You really hoped for someone to run into the room and stop what was going on, proving your innocence.

But that never came.

Everything that happened next went by so fast that it made everything seem so... quiet.

The pipes burst open.

You were so scared you couldn't move or scream.

You and Neuvillette made eye contact for one last time.

The water raged through the pipes, spraying everywhere inside the chamber, engulfing you.

You felt numb. You could no longer feel anything. Physically nor emotionally.

You felt yourself begin to fade away in more ways than once.

A wave splashed over your head, Neuvillette looked away as it happened, and he closed his eyes, a single tear rolling down his cheek.

Who knows how long this storm in Fontaine will go on for.

The chamber soon drained of the seawater, and nothing was in it.

And seeing as you were from Fontaine,

you had been dissolved.

...and the people cheered. They thought the criminal had been dealt with. But only some knew the truth.

Days later.

More rain.

Neuvillette was in the middle of a trail when someone barged into the court. All eyes were on them. They were asked what their business was doing here.

They found out you were innocent.

If only they knew.

You were always innocent.

[itsahotminuteinbetween]

Heey, back again with Chapter 6 :) Nothing too major goin on here, really. Nothing actually important happens until later. @itsberrydreemurstuff, @bibooby, and @laegume, I saved you all seats. (Also, @andyssilly, thought I might tag you in case you don't see this.)

Uh, before I start our little performance, I have a few lil things I'd like to say reaaal quick. The first is thaaaat... *brp bada brp brp brp boooo (that was a trumpet noise if you couldn't tell)* I have a tag for the fic now! I tagged all the chapters under the title "Where the Stars Don't Shine", so if you type it into my lil thing, it should come up! I'll probably pin a post with a the chapters linked eventually, I just keep forgetting to do it. And the second thing is slightly less important, but thought I might put it here anyways. Guys, I post polls sometimes that help me make decisions on things regarding the chapters. Nothing major, of course, just small tidbits and whatnot, but I'd really appreciate it if more people could vote on those. It's cool though, I don't mind.

Anyways, that's all for now, I guess! Soooo...

On with the show!

Word Count: 1,514

The day thankfully passes by without much issue, though truthfully you were in a daze for most of it. All you remember is the lights being unusually bright (you thought nothing of it) and a puppet show. Sun hadn’t spoken to you since your wake-up, which was a bit of a relief.

Cleaning had been a bit slower on your end. You think Sun had mentioned it at some point, though you could be mistaken. You know for a fact that he told you not to bring your pills to work on account of the kids getting access to them after you took one to ease the sharp throbbing in your head that had not let up after your nap. Strangely, you felt worse afterwards. You were sorely tempted to put in your earbuds, if only to block out that awful buzzing. You refrained, however; you really didn’t need Sun chastising you for the third time today.

You said good night, getting no response, and left. You don’t remember getting home, but you do remember trying to find something to eat in your nearly bare pantry. You found some eggs and semi-decent bread, made french toast, and passed out.

The pounding is not evaded today, either. Your head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton, and it takes effort to keep your eyes open. You splash some water  on your face as a temporary fix, drink a bit of cough medicine to fight back your sore throat, and head to work.

You head straight for the desk, not bothering to say good morning to the animatronic in charge this time. Your bag hits the floor with a hard thunk, and you open it. You hope you thought to pack a lunch earlier, though you seriously doubt it with your frazzled state. 

Evidently, the source of the noise is actually a brick. You’re not even sure how you managed it, but it does explain why it felt so heavy to lug around. You assume it’s Moon’s work and think little else of it, placing it off to the side before Sun spots it and accuses you of vandalism or burglary or something. 

From the things you actually packed, most are your typical. Laptop, two books instead of one, earbuds, keys, your phone, and a second set of clothes. No lunch, though you weren’t expecting that one. You do find a granola bar instead, and tuck it in your pocket for safekeeping. Maybe you could eat it on the break you never used.

 You interest yourself in the books you brought. You’d already read (book) from cover to cover a dozen times over, but one more couldn’t hurt. The other was one of your additions for the children, and something you were hoping Moon would approve of as well. You hadn’t seen a copy of Brambly Hedge anywhere, but you’d love’d it when you were growing up. They’d liked the Peter Rabbit copy you’d put in, so with any luck, this one would garner a similar reaction.

You remind yourself to bring something for your coworker some other time. Moon may be a prick, but he seemed to get pretty bored when the children fell asleep. Perhaps something to keep him occupied would help, and maybe even get him off your back when the lights cut. What kind of books would he like, though? He’d stolen one of your Sherlock Holmes novels in your first month of work, and you’d caught him peeking over your shoulder on several different occasions when you’d brought your gothic horrors and dystopians, which also tended to mysteriously disappear. You couldn’t just walk up to him and ask, though. Asking either of them for something hardly ever went well.

You brush off the thought and remind yourself to actually request some funding for an idea you’d gotten some time back. The Daycare, action packed and entertaining as it was, didn’t really have much reading material outside of little kiddie books featuring corporate’s mascots, and while you weren’t opposed to donating your old children’s books, some newer ones would probably be more appealing. You’d noticed that Moon also seemed to enjoy the greater variety. He tended to gravitate towards classics and fables for naptime, though you made sure to only plant a few at a time do as not to arouse suspicion. You were pretty sure they thought it was the higher-ups’ doing, and you weren’t going to be the one to correct them. 

You whip around, scanning the Daycare for any sign of the animatronic before taking off with the book in hand, shelving it among the other books you’d brought. You walk back to the desk, feeling almost proud of yourself, until a voice pipes up behind you. “Friieeend, what are you dooing?” 

For the record, despite what the security cameras captured, you did not screech and trip over nothing. 

You flip over and jump back up onto your feet, hastily responding to fend off any conclusion he’d make about this. “Who’s doing something? Me? No, I’m not doing anything, nothing at all.”

Yeah, that didn’t sound suspicious at aaaall, nice going.

Sun’s faceplate turns, static grin growing wider with each click. “Reeeally now? Because it seems to me like you were trying to sneak something from the shelf.”

Great. Now he thinks you’re a thief.

You shake your head frantically, crossing your arms to further prove a point. “No, no I’m not, promise.” Yeah, that’ll help, Y/N, way to seem like a criminal.

His face reverts to its normal position, and you think you’re in the clear (until) he speaks up again. “Glad to be wrong then! Still, I think I’d rather be safe than sorry. You wouldn’t mind if I checked, would you?”

This smug little- You shoot him a strained smile and a thumbs-up that does not display your panic in any way. “Nnnnnnope, go right ahead!”

His own smile stretches. He stoops down to your height and surveys the shelf, default smile forming an unreadable expression that you’re not sure you want to uncover the meaning of. He speaks after a few moments. “This wasn’t here earlier.” He taps the spine of the newly added Brambly Hedge on the shelf for emphasis.

You swallow, arms locked at your sides. You question whether you’d prefer him accusing you of thievery or stupidity. 

He pulls it out and flips through the pages, gaze snapping back to you quizzically.

“How did it get here?” He muses out loud, putting you on the spot with a look that makes you freeze.

Your brain races to find an acceptable response other than the actual truth, and lying will only get you in more trouble. 

You pause. Moon can’t know. 

“Is Moon listening?” you probe.

He pauses, rays doing a half-spin before he responds, “Not at the moment.”

You seriously doubt that, but it’ll have to do. 

You’re so screwed. 

You fiddle with the hem of your shirt, rushing what you want to say at speeds that leave your lungs gasping as you stumble over your words. “I noticed the older kidsandsometimesMoon get bored so I thought I could bring some booksforthemfromhome but I haven’t asked management forper-permissionyetIwasgonnadothatintoday’sreportsorryandthekidsreallylikedperterrabbitsoithoughtmaybethey’dlikethisonetoopleasedon’ttellmoonormanagementIcan’tlosethisjob.” 

Your eyes are tightly screwed shut by the end of your tirade, hands clenched into fists. You peek an eye open to find Sun not in front of you, but on the other side of the room.

Yep, you are so dead when naptime rolls around.

—---------------------------------

Sun was at a sort of standstill with this new information. You were the one responsible for those books mysteriously piling up on their shelves, out of your own pocket, and you hadn’t thought to ask management? 

He hadn’t been lying when he told you Moon was absent: his brother was never active when Sun was out, preferring to stay offline unless called upon. 

He should tell Moon. This was probably something he’d want to know, something that could possibly get you fired. 

He paused. Would it get you fired? On one hand, you were required to report everything, including any changes you requested. On the other, you were the one paying for said changes, which meant the company didn’t have to do it themselves. If anything, they’d probably just issue you off with a warning and make you pay for everything.

Besides, while the Daycare was practically perfect in his humble opinion, he did have to admit he appreciated the new additions, and he wasn’t going to refuse the benefits, even if they were from you. 

Sun had a feeling his brother wouldn’t agree.

Another lightbulb flickered on in his head. You’d bought the books. He wondered what else you’d brought under the guise of management. 

He sighed, conflicted. You were right, the kids did like Peter Rabbit, along with every other book you’d brought in.

He supposed he could keep this little revelation to himself. Not for you, he reasoned, but for the kids. And speaking of the kids, a handful of them were already entering through the doors now, signaling the start of the day.

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

Aaaaand that's a wrap! Hope that was up to standard :) Y/N seems to be getting a little worse, hehehe...and I suuure hope Moon doesn't find out about all this, that would make for an interesting confrontation...But yeah, the Assistant's basically been funding most of the stuff for the Daycare at this point. They buy groceries when Management forgets to, restocks for emergency supplies and cleaning stuff, and buys new things for the kids sometimes.

[pommunist]

Yes, it's the same penguin anon from earlier haha (obviously signing anonymous asks doesn't really mean anything because anyone could use the same signature, but I don't know why anyone would bother. I just did it so if i ever need to refer to a previous ask it's gonna be way easier)

Anyway, something I keep coming back to is how while I obviously don't know anything about Q's thought process, the fact that his immediate reaction seemed to be to treat his lower level workers as if they were enemy spies (whether it was intentional or not! That's just how it came off!) is just a good example of how not to be a good leader and how not to de-escalate

That's where this all really went wrong for him, right? Sure, the whole thing becoming public was the inciting incident for the controversy, but it could still have been salvaged at that point because Q himself wasn't being accused of anything and public opinion was still largely positive towards him. They could have negotiated a solution, or at least a path to a solution, or at least agreed to negotiate at a later date after he'd had a chance to seek legal counsel if he wanted to be extra careful

I guess it might be too late now so it's kinda pointless to talk about it, but maybe pointing this out will help someone else avoid the same mistake in the future

If you treat someone like an enemy, they're more likely to become hostile, and if you treat someone like a spy, they're gonna get more determined to find out what you're hiding

(Obviously that doesn't justify the other side crossing the line and escalating further, but it shouldn't come as a surprise either, especially if it's the only thing you ever respond to)

- 🐧

Well that worked bc I recognised you hehe ! I also find it super cute that people sign with their favorite emoji I should start doing that 🧐

Thinking about the alternate universe in which, after Q’s first stream about it, he and the admins in charge would have contacted the victims, listened to their demands and solved things amicably. Would’ve been way better for the admins, Qstudios and the server as well but, alas 🥲

I mean there’s still a chance for them to do so, if legal procedures haven’t started (and in case of french law, even if they have, cause legal process would start with negotiations) but who is to say they’re gonna take it now.

And about seeing the victims as enemies yeah…. We have to remember that while we talk about how some things can be difficult to say because of legalities, at some point you have to ask yourself what the priority between genuinely wanting to fix your wrongs and trying to avoid a lawsuit at all cost. And of course tensions are gonna rise when you treat your victims as if they were haters coming for your project instead of trying to mend the bridge between you and them 😵‍💫😵‍💫

(Btw whenever I talk about legal issues its always in the context of admins vs Qstudios and never about Q vs that one higher up who allegedly is the root of all problems)

[abysskeeper]

"Small ideas" I tell myself. Needed to get something out of my system, so have an atheistic wizard/cleric and a former God's Chosen two wizards duking it out and making out about godhood and relationship insecurities. Spoilers for Act 3...it happens sometime early there I guess.

While I love Fiona and Wyll dearly, Nox'ani is my second Tav playthrough and she and Gale are just...something else. This is rough and messy, but maybe I'll clean it up in full one day soonish. I just gotta get the writing flowing again.

******************************************

The moment he set his eyes on it, Nox should’ve known it would come to this. Well, perhaps that was a touch unfair to expect from herself. She was more concerned with everything else going on in the chamber to have noticed or really considered what the Crown was at the time. So really, the moment Gale sat her down and explained to her what it was and what he hoped to accomplish with it, she should have known it would come to this.

“Alright…let us imagine you manage to acquire the Crown. What then, hm?” Nox asked, crossing her arms against the chill of the nighttime breeze that swept through the glade they found themselves in. That would be her excuse in any case, though she knew it was a common gesture she performed against her own, rising frustrations.

“You wish to battle with Mystra?” she pressed, and then rolled her eyes with a derisive snort, “As if we have no idea how that would go. This is the goddess’s third incarnation, and Toril has tired to tear itself apart each time she died. Even if you won against her, there is no telling how the Weave would react, nor no telling how Toril would react to the Karsite Weave if it came to it. Or—”

Her face fell as the darker thought crossed her mind. It was one she had no desire to entertain, one she knew logically made no sense in the grander scheme they were painting, but then much of Gale’s remaining feelings regarding Mystra likely defied logic. Understandably so, all things considered. “—Or do you still wish to return it to her? To return to her? Do you wish to kowtow to her again in hopes she will finally see your worth and return you to her side?”

For his part, Gale had afforded her neutrality and respect as she spoke against his desires. His face quickly soured at this accusation though, his eyes narrowed and his mouth pulled into a frown. “You are more than aware that is as unfair as it is untrue,” he refuted curtly.

“Fine,” she agreed quickly, because she was aware that it was unfair to ask, and she figured it was untrue by now. As she knew, logically it made sense, but a part of her still doubted. Likely, a part of her would always doubt whether he was truly over Mystra. A part of her would always doubt she was enough to sideline a goddess. But that was her burden to bear and it was her insecurity to trouble over and puzzle out, not his. Especially not now.

“That still does not answer any of my prior questions,” she pointed out quietly.

“Your prior questions…” Gale trailed off and let out a heavy sigh, “Your prior questions are worthy of consideration, undeniably, but they are still hypothetical—and they are hypothetical because you are correct. We do not know how Toril would react, it could be as you expect, or it could be as I expect. Or it could be anywhere in between, and that is part of the risk,” he acquiesced. His eyes fixed on her, imploring her to understand, “But is it not worth the risk, Nox? All it would take is but a moment, and then I…and then we…”

“And what of we?!”

She grimaced as she interrupted him and he stopped, stepping back in surprise at her outburst. But was it really so unexpected? This was the second time he had slipped in his explanations, the second time he had put himself first and considered her and them together second. It was unintentional, she would allow him that grace because she knew it. It was born from years of fending only for himself, of having to only consider himself and what he needed. It was born of relying solely on himself, and knowing he would be the one to complete this plan of his. She knew it was no slight against her, but it still bore questioning because she worried it was the crux of the issue.

Selfishly, it was the crux of her issues. Frightfully, she worried it was the driving force behind his decisions. What of them together?

“Then what of us?!” Nox demanded, and she could feel her throat starting to burn, “What of me?!” Her feet carried her back a step of their own accord, and she looked up at him with hot, blurry eyes. “Or do you not realize this is a plan for one? What would you wish of me when I am no longer able to stand at your side as an equal?” she demanded. “Would you have me kneel at your feet as a subordinate? Is that what you desire?”

Her jaw clenched at the very thought, but to prove her point she slowly lowered herself to her knees before him and then bowed her head as if in prayer. She felt a tremble pass through her—frustrated, yes, but also enraged…fully aware of just how many times she had held this exact position to no avail—before she ground out, “Is a worshipper what you seek? A single soul to praise the Great Lord of Magic?”

She needn’t look up to feel the shift in the air around them, the weight of anger extinguishing like the flame on a wick being snuffed and transforming into something altogether…different. Slowly, she raised her head and met his stare with her own. His brown eyes were dark, nearly black, and the charge that surged through their locked gazes made her mouth run dry as the rest of her words died on her tongue. The thought struck her, briefly, that if he wanted her on her knees all he had to do was ask…which was a surprising revelation in itself because a month ago that wasn’t the case.

Though a month ago, Nox supposed, she had yet to admit she had fallen for this frustratingly incredible wizard who refused to see the worth he contained in his own, mortal self.

Not that it mattered either, because that wasn’t what this was. It wasn’t just what this was, anyways. A desire sparked in his dark eyes, the kind she still had trouble recognizing and accepting being directed at her, but it was also nothing in comparison to the flare of concern shining there. It was a burning sympathy, a warm, aching understanding of what she had been through, and if she were honest, she should have expected nothing less. They hadn’t suffered in exactly the same ways, but they ran parallel to one another. He had no need to use words, nor to even use the connection of their tadpoles. The very question—the very recognition she just made towards the act of kneeling pulsed through the Weave that surrounded them, the magic they delighted in sharing with one another.

How many times?

The urge to turn away, to avert herself from his knowing stare and the vulnerability it caused, disintegrated the moment Gale started moving towards her. Nox stilled completely, her breath catching in her throat as he lowered himself onto one knee beside her and placed his hands on her arms. Gently, he assisted her back up to her feet and lightly caressed up and down her arms a few times before he refused to waste another moment. A warm hand cupped her cheek, and he leaned forward to press a sweet kiss to her mouth.

Any lingering negativity twisting in her gut vanished as she sighed into him. He took the opportunity, his hand sliding back to tangle in her hair and his tongue tracing over her lips in wordless question. Nox answered immediately, a small moan escaping her while her hands came up to grasp at the fabric of his shirt. Gale wrapped his free arms round her waist and pulled her closer, eagerly deepening the kiss…and she was gone. She melted into him, her legs nearly giving way while he explored her mouth and snuck his hand under the hem of her tunic to lightly trace down her spine.

It was easy to get lost in him, especially in these moments. No matter how passionate or sweet the kiss, his were always tinged with an almost desperate devotion, a burning, devouring need for her to see, to feel, to know just how far he would go for her. And no matter how insignificant or insecure she felt, no matter how exhausted she was or how hard she questioned herself…it always worked.

His adoration was unquestionable, occasionally she simply needed a reminder.

The need for air finally broke them apart, but he barely moved away from her. Still cradling the back of her head, his forehead rested on hers, his lips only a hair’s breadth away from her own. “I would have answered you in Elturel,” he spoke into the infinitesimal space between them, voice low and rough with laden emotion.

Before she could even consider his admittance, Gale kissed her again. She felt the weight of the words he just spoke still hanging heavily on his lips as they brushed over hers. “I would have answered you in Avernus,” he continued, speaking the words against her. His voice was still a low hum, rough and weighted and hushed as if he was speaking world-shattering secrets only she was to know.

Perhaps, in a way, he was.

Finally, Nox opened her eyes to look up at him, her surprise and wonder met with the most smoldering sincerity. “I would have answered you every time you asked during your travels of Candlekeep and Waterdeep and Baldur’s Gate,” he said, “I would have ensured you knew I was always at your side with every step you took. I would have ensured you never, never felt the need to question your own worth. I would have venerated you—”

His hand moved forward, cupping her cheek again, as a soft, adoring smile slipped onto his face and warmth pooled into his eyes. “—And when the time came…when the time may still come, I would make you my equal, you have never been anything less,” Gale decided easily, as if he was discussing meal options and not apotheosis. “We would stand side by side as we reshaped all that we know, all that we love, into something worthy of its potential,” he added, “We would finally make things better for mortals—for those who know our struggles intimately well.”

Nox let out a low, long breath, and she leaned forward to rest her head against his chest. Her eyes slowly closed again as she listened to the steady thrum of his heart beating and felt the mystical buzz of the Orb—the Karsite Weave—against her cheek, and truly considered his words. It was not a difficult task, given how many of her own words were entangled in the spaces of all he said and all he meant. How many times had she lamented the Gods’ obvious lack of care to much of mortal suffering during their journey? How many times had she besmirched the Gods for withholding their divine power from man? How many times had she claimed mortals would be better off without the divine?

And yet…the worst part was knowing that it was possible. Claiming the crown from the Absolute and reshaping the world into something they believed in would not be simple tasks by any means, but they were not impossible feats. In fact, they were hurtling towards both options being well within their grasps. But…she was not so sure it was a goal she desired anymore.

She was not so sure it was ever a goal she desired to begin with.

Attaining godhood had never been the option she considered when lodging her complaints. If anything, she wanted to see mortals free from the divine, not grasp the power herself. And now…she still had questions. She still took issue regarding many things, but Moonrise forced much of her perspective to shift. Hearing Selûne’s call again, watching Shadowheart turn away from all she knew in pursuit of something better with another deity, meeting Dame Aylin and witnessing what divine power…divine justice could do for a land so plagued by malice for so long…it complicated matters considerably. If nothing else, it altered her thoughts drastically and left her with an even more complex web to untangle in her mind regarding her emotions towards divinity.

That, however, was not necessarily the facet she needed to address. Not now at least…not yet. She still had time to weave her way through her tangled thoughts when there was another, far easier matter—far easier for her, at least—to discuss first. It was something she only understood recently they both struggled deeply with, how they both found that clawing insecurity lodged in their hearts when faced with each other, but now that she knew it existed in him just as readily as her, it was easy for her to read between the lines of how he spoke to her. How he spoke about her and all he wished he could do for her.

All things considered, it was really rather ironic.

“And I know you would have done all of that for me had you been around, regardless of godhood,” Nox finally murmured into his chest, “In spite of it, even.”

She paused, letting her words hang around them and waiting to see if he would respond to her. When he did not, she shifted enough to peer one eye up at him. The smile was gone from his face, but Gale was still watching her with an aching tenderness and now with an added look of curiosity.

“I have been…wondering, of late,” she admitted quietly, spurred on by his inquisitive gaze, “…I would swear apotheosis lays claim to what little may remain of a mortal before being deified. The Gods may wield their divine power, and I have lamented more than enough about all they keep from us, but I have often failed to consider what we have in their place.”

She cast her eyes downward as she considered and continued her thought, “There may be hundreds of worlds out there, but even the one at our fingertips is vast in its beauty. We are vast and beautiful in our capacity. We know and experience more than the divine could ever conceive. We are the ones who dream, who believe, who stop and wonder at the world around us. Hells, even our faith in the divine is something precious and beautiful they will never experience.”

Nox paused, smiling to herself as a blush tinted her pale cheeks. “And most importantly, what I have discovered most recently, is that we love.” She pulled away from him, just enough to view him and his shining eyes clearly. After a moment, she reached up with one hand to press it against his cheek. “All of that to say, I don’t need a god, Gale. I’ve never needed a god,” she whispered, “All I need is you.”

Her fingers settled over the veins curling up his cheek and delicately started tracing down the path towards the Orb in his chest. She pushed the cloth collar of his shirt out of the way and traced over the ring of the Orb itself before her hand settled, the tips of her fingers over the Karsite Weave and her palm over his heart. “I need the mortal man in front of me,” she confessed breathlessly, “The one with passion in his veins and devotion in his heart.”

Gale released a shuddering sigh, his eyes closing for a moment before one of his hands came up to rest over her own against his heart. “I could give you worlds, and you tell me this is enough,” he sighed, “You grace me with such words, such brilliant, exceptional joys…and most days, the mortal man before you does not feel worthy of you,” he admitted.

His tone was joking, his voice light and the small smile he gave her was playful, but she could see the lingering sadness masked in his eyes. The concern and the doubt he wasn’t enough, the fear that it would one day drive her away like it had before. They were surely the same emotions he had seen so readily reflected in her gaze countless times before. The same ones he assuaged with gentle reminders and light kisses.

She could return those easily.

“Then he needs to stop concerning himself with matters that are not his decide,” Nox said, her voice teasing to match his tone, but every word carrying nothing but sincerity. Her free hand snaked around his neck and she pulled him down for another kiss. His surprised breath fanned over her lips, and she smiled against him for a few moments before she pulled away.

“I alone determine what I am worth,” she breathed, “And I have decided that you, my dear Wizard of Waterdeep, are more than what even my wildest fantasies could ever bring to me, and are thus worth more than every last bit I could possibly give.”

She caught a flash of his beaming grin just before Gale wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, burying his face in her hair and murmuring, “And how I will wonder for the rest of my mortal time why fate decided to grant me such fortune.”

[sashaisready]

Chapter Twelve

Lee Bodecker (The Devil All The Time) x Femme Reader

A year after the sudden death of your husband you find yourself at a loose end, unsure what to do next. You're also learning about your sexuality - your hidden desires and fantasies creeping out now you're no longer playing the role of the good wife. A certain Sheriff in town could be the one to awaken something in you.

Series Masterlist

Chapter 13

Warnings: smut, references to sexual assault/murder, rough sexual activity, drinking

Back at home that evening, Lee was exhausted as you fixed him a plate for dinner. He’d confirmed it was Davey as suspected, another deputy had identified the body as they didn’t want his wife to see him like this. It was a grisly sight, apparently. It had been a few weeks and he'd been in the water the whole time. But she had insisted. 

Of course it had been horrible, a doctor had to give her a sedative to calm down and she was being kept in hospital overnight so they could check up on her. The press were sniffing around, the town were baying for blood now that there was a cop killer on the streets, and everyone was looking to Lee to find the answers.

He took another gulp of whiskey and you stared him down from across the table. He'd had nearly half the bottle already.

“What?” he asked. “I earned this today” he said, slamming the bottle onto the table. You could see he was slightly intoxicated.

Your eyes hardened.

“Did you do it, Lee?” you asked him calmly.

Lee met your gaze, sneering as he took a mouthful of food. “What?”

“You know what” you fired back.

You stared at each other for what seemed like hours. Lee sat back in his chair, crossing his arms.

“What exactly are you accusing me of?” he asked sternly. “I’d tread careful if I were you”.

“Just funny timing isn’t it?”

“What is?” he replied, not giving anything away.

“I tell you what Davey did, and that very night is the last time anyone sees him alive. He’s shot in the head in the middle of nowhere, no reason to be out there. Didn’t even fire his gun or try defend himself”.

Lee wouldn’t drop his gaze. You’re not even sure he was blinking anymore. His mouth curled into a snarl and he took another sip of whiskey.

“Yeah. That is funny” he countered, his tone defiant.

“See I’ve been thinking about it” you said casually, getting up from your chair and pulling it forward so it was right by him, then sitting down again. “Davey must’ve been meeting someone out there at that time of night. Wherever he was, exactly. He isn’t gonna be wandering around the creek or river for no reason is he?”

“I guess not” said Lee, deadpan.

“Exactly. But then, if he was meeting a pimp, or some bad guy he was caught up in a nefarious deal with, he’d have his gun drawn and ready wouldn’t he? Just in case, I mean. The police are trained to be ready, right?"

“Sure, but you can always be caught off guard” shrugged Lee.

“Of course. Or maybe…here’s an idea. He was meeting someone he knew, someone he trusted. That’s why he didn’t have his gun ready, because he never thought he needed it”.

You leaned up close to Lee’s face, inches from him now, adrenaline coursing through you.

“Maybe someone who had just found out he’d done something terrible. Someone who lured him out to the creek and shot him. Even if that someone had never been asked to do that”.

Lee’s nostrils flared as he clenched his jaw. He smiled at you. The smile chilled your bones.

“Maybe”, he said, the rage barely concealed. “…Maybe that someone was helpin’ someone else out. Maybe that someone else should be grateful it was fixed for her, so that she never had to worry about Davey again”.

You slapped hard Lee across the face, enraged. Before the realisation of what you’d done sunk in, you went to hit him again. He caught your arm this time, his fingers pressing tightly into your flesh. You shook him off.

“I would think very carefully about your next move” he warned, his eyes dark.

“How dare you!” you shouted, pointing a finger in his face. “I never asked for this!! I never wanted this! You’re a murderer!” Your words were laced with venom, practically spitting at him.

“You should be thankin’ me” Lee snapped, squaring up to you. “I got rid of him for you. You didn’t want to face him in town, did you? Seein’ his face every day? You didn’t wanna go to trial and have them drag you through the mud goin’ through every detail, did ya? I’ve seen those trials. I’ve been in those trials. The girls rarely win, sweetheart. Life ain't fair that way. This way, my way, justice was served”.

You were breathing heavily now, trembling.

“You KILLED him, Lee. You’re a cop!! The SHERIFF for god’s sakes! What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking about YOU” he yelled. “About what he did to you. How he hurt you. How he turned you into a nervous wreck. How he turned sex, which you love, into this awful fuckin’ trauma for you!” he looked deeply into your face. “You know what? I’d do it again”.

Tears stung in your eyes. “You’re a murderer” you whispered.

“I killed a rapist” he barked. “Even if he hadn’t done it before you, and I’m sure he probably had 'cos he was cocky, he would’ve done it again. And he would walk free every single time”.

The worst part was, you knew he was right. But you were horrified. Disgusted by his actions. Devastated that he would use your agony as a weapon and an excuse for violence. This version of Lee was so at odds with the soft, gentle man who washed your hair for you that first week because your arms and shoulders were so bruised and painful that you could barely lift them.

“What about Julie?” you asked through gritted teeth.

He softened slightly. “That is my only regret. But she’s still young. She’ll meet someone else and be okay. And the police pension and life insurance policy is decent, so she’ll be alright”.

“I never wanted this” you exclaimed.

“I know” he sighed. “And you were never meant to know. But you turned out to be a pretty good lil’ detective. Once again, I underestimated you” he chuckled.

“How can you make jokes at a time like this?” you scolded.

He shrugged. “Like I said. He was a rapist. And he hurt my girl” he was deadpan, no emotion in his voice.

“And how are you so confident I’m not gonna tell everyone about this? O-or tell the police in the nearby towns? Or the feds?” you ask, your slightly wobbly voice betraying your nerves.

Lee sighed, a small smile breaking out on his face. “Because” he told you calmly, leaning closer to you. “Despite how angry you are right now. And I get it, it’s reasonable” he leant over to your ear, “I know you love me. And I know you, and deep down, you are delighted that I did this for you”.

You gasped. You feel real hatred, pure contempt for him in this moment. Every bad feeling you had about him, every gut instinct you had from those early days after the Event, you were right. He was bad.

And yet.

Deep down, in a tiny recess of your brain. There was something. Something unexplainable. Something primal and desperate. Where you believed he had fixed it for you. He had removed the problem. He had saved you from a trial, and an inevitable legal loss, and eventual reputation as a liar trying to smear a good man. He had saved you from a potential lifetime of seeing your rapist on the streets, in church, smiling at you and mocking you. You were glad he was dead.

And Lee was right. You did love him. You hadn’t told him, but you did. And he knew it.

You’d never felt as confused as you had in that moment. You hated him so desperately, you were horrified by what he’d done. But you were also grateful. You felt protected, avenged. He did it for his girl.

You glared at him. And then you watched his chest heaving, the tension across his face, the fire in his eyes. The thick tension between the both of you. You were transported back to the cruiser with him on that fateful day, handcuffed and furious. 

It was as if something snapped within you.

Suddenly you were on top of him on the kitchen table. Your tongue was in his mouth and you were clawing at his shirt, ripping off a few buttons as it came undone. He kissed you back and tried to wrestle his hands around your face but you pried them off. You began tearing at his belt and threw his trousers and underwear down to his ankles. You scrambled desperately to move your panties aside and clumsily sat down on his hard length, your hand fumbling to guide him into your entrance. It was sloppy, ungainly. You moaned as you felt him bottom out inside of you and you heard him groan too. It had been a few weeks since you’d had sex and it stung, but in a satisfying way. You began to wildly thrust on top of him, throwing your head back and riding him roughly.

You were amazed the table was supporting your combined weight but it somehow did. The legs crashed loudly against the kitchen tiles with each thrust and at one point you heard Lee’s whiskey bottle fall off and smash below but neither of you were bothered. You were too far gone, feral, animalistic. You knew the angle and sheer force would mean the table was agony on his back but you didn’t care. Neither did he, by the sound of his pathetic whines.

“How fucking dare you” you sneered as you bucked ruthlessly. “How fucking dare you do that in my name” you told him between heavy breaths.

He tried to respond but you covered his mouth with your hand. “No. Shut up. I don’t want to hear it”.

His eyes widened, framed by your fingers as they peeked over your hand. You could see he was in ecstasy. You both hated him and loved him at that second in time, but mainly you were furious.

“You just wanted to show him who I belong to, didn’t you?” you scolded. “I bet you got off on it. Showing him who’s boss. Telling him that I only fuck you and nobody else. That only you get my pussy”.

Lee’s eyes were hooded and low now and you knew he was close. You knew his body and cues well enough by now.

“Oh no you don’t” you mocked.

You removed your hand and pulled yourself off of him. He moaned pathetically at the loss as his cock slapped harshly back against his belly. You shimmied along his torso, the slick from your folds leaving a trail from his tummy to his chest. Before he had a chance to react you planted yourself onto his face with your full weight, your pussy hard against his mouth and your thighs tight over his ears. You began to gyrate as he lapped you up greedily.

“You’re not getting up until I’ve come all over your face. So get to work” you demanded.

He obliged, his tongue unleashed. You were seeing stars already. You’d never sat on a man’s face like this and the angle and control meant the feeling was otherworldly. You were also aroused by the sheer decadence of it, being in total control, you had complete power over him – and how uncomfortable he must be. You thought about him roughly taking your mouth that first day in the woods, tickled by the symmetry of then and now, but with the roles reversed.

He was grabbing at your buttocks, his hands frenzied.

“You did it for me, didn’t you?” you gasped between whimpers. Somewhere beneath your legs you could hear Lee’s muffled moans.

“He didn’t stand a chance, did he?” you mewled as you ground down against him. He gripped your thighs tighter and tighter, his nails digging into you.

“My Sheriff is the law, and he got justice for me”.

You didn’t even know what you were saying at this point, but Lee must’ve liked it as he was squirming beneath you, desperately reaching for his cock but you batted his hands away. He didn’t deserve it.

You had never taken control quite like this with him before. Of course you’d been on top, you’d been forceful, but never like this. You hated Lee and wanted to punish him. Hurt him. Wanted to prove to him that you weren’t a meek princess in a tower he needed to play knight for. But you also wanted him. You hadn’t had sex in weeks, not since all that happened, and you needed release. You were using Lee like a sex aid rather than a partner. A glorified masturbation session.

You needed to reframe sex in your mind as pleasurable and something you wanted, that you controlled.

And you certainly did.

Your climax finally boomed from inside you and you very nearly passed out. It hit you like a ton of bricks, every nerve ending jolting and surging as you writhed on top of Lee. Your moan was deep, guttural, it didn’t even sound like it came from you. Your hips stuttered as you neared the end and the aftershocks faded.

You slid off Lee, although you were surprised you even had the strength to. Your legs quivered as you inelegantly moved off the table, pulling your dress back down and sitting back down in a kitchen chair, panting.

You looked back at Lee who was a mess on the table. His face was drenched in your moisture and his chest was rising and falling rapidly as he caught his breath. You noticed he’d finished too, his spend messily dripping over his tummy and thighs. Through your haze you were impressed that you’d manage to make him come when you hadn’t even touched him.

Lee was a wreck, his back completely demolished by the unforgiving wood of the table. But God, what a rush. He had always thought he liked to be in control but you had proved him wrong. He had been so aroused by your forceful actions and dirty talk that he’d blown his load without either of you even laying a finger on his cock.

He sat up slowly, his hand cradling his aching back.

“That was…”

But you cut him off, launching a wet dishrag at his chest.

“Clean yourself up, Lee. We’re done” you told him.

[ekdarnellbooks]

Jury Duty: Part 3 of 7

A spicy sci fi romance novelette in seven parts.

TW/CW: non-graphic descriptions of a court case where someone described as a "young boy" was tortured and murdered, graphic description of another murder, double penetration, double vaginal penetration, alien MMC, human FMC, tentacle smut.

MASTERPOST

PREVIOUS PART

NEXT PART

Eleanor slept poorly, nightmares of the young boy flooding her dreamscape, the dead eyes of the murderer haunting her. At least the bed was comfortable. And she had a bathroom. All in all, the accommodations could be worse.

For a long while she lay in bed, replacing the gruesome images with well, less gruesome ones. Enzi’s hands at her waist, those strange tentacles caressing her back, brushing over her ass. The red eyes, compound and glimmering.

After she’d calmed down last night, he’d led her back to her room, depositing her at the door without another word.

Now, a knock, and Eleanor quickly dressed before a tentative, “Come in!”

Enzi ambled in, a tray in his hands, tentacles undulating gently against his body. Since there was no table in the bare room, he set it on her bed, still mussed from sleep.

“What are you doing here?” Eleanor asked, immediately suspicious. Did the chief exterminator provide breakfast service for all his little guests?

“I am bringing you food. Are you not hungry?”

Well, sure, she was, now that she thought about it. Her stomach grumbled; when was the last time she’d eaten? She moved back to the bed, examining what lay on the tray.

“What is it?” Eleanor asked, lounging as best as she could with the tight skirt constricting her movement. Definitely should have worn pants to court.

“Foods from my world; nutrient dense and edible to humans. And some water.”

A light herbal aroma wafted up to her nose as she picked up what looked like some sort of root vegetable and brought it to her mouth. It was almost colorless and warm to the touch, the shape of a small potato. Enzi scrutinized her the entire time, his eyes not leaving hers as she chewed the food. Not much flavor, but yes, she already felt better. A big glug of water and she dug into the food in earnest.

“You don’t eat any meat?” Eleanor asked when she’d had her fill, finishing the large jug of water.

“No, we do not consume flesh.”

That was… reassuring… she guessed. Though that didn’t explain why his species had such large teeth and claws. Definitely not what one would expect of an herbivore.

Another rapid knock, and Nathan entered her room without waiting for a response. His eyes widened as he saw Enzi, who grabbed the empty tray and nodded at Eleanor before leaving.

“What was he doing here?” Nathan asked when the Khureno had left, wide eyes exchanged for a glare directed at Eleanor.

“He brought me food. Did you eat?”

Eleanor scooted off the bed, fixing her skirt before walking over to him.

“Yeah, but I didn’t have a sweet little breakfast date like you did,” Nathan said as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“It wasn’t a date. I think Enzi is just curious about us.” Eleanor didn’t know why she felt so defensive, but did not appreciate the weird accusations.

“You. He’s curious about you, not us.” Nathan paced the room, looking at the blank walls as if there was something to be ascertained from them. Warmth flooded her cheeks, not understanding why he was acting so strange.

“So, do you think anyone will try to vote to exterminate humanity?” he asked.

What a question.

“I don’t know. I can’t read minds.”

Nathan stopped his pacing, turning to glare right at her. Where was this hostility coming from?

“Are you going to vote to exterminate humanity?”

Eleanor inhaled a sharp breath, returning his glare before responding. “Of course not. Why would you think that?”

“You seem awfully cozy with Enzi the Exterminator.”

“You know, he has a point. Humans are awful. You saw the trial photos, you saw what that monster did to that poor boy. I can’t fucking sleep at night; I’m not sure I ever will again…” Eleanor trailed off as Nathan shook his head at her. “Oh, c’mon, that doesn’t mean I’m voting against us. I’m just saying he has a point. That’s all.” Now she crossed her arms over her chest, mimicking his pose.

“Just because one guy murders some kid doesn’t mean we all deserve to die,” Nathan spat, and the vitriol of his words shocked her.

The boy wasn’t just ‘some kid’. He was a living, breathing person, a child who had his whole life ahead of him, a child who survived unspeakable things before his death. Tears burned at her eyes at the callousness of his words. The casual snark, as if that boy’s life didn’t matter.

“I didn’t say that,” Eleanor said, her voice low as her discomfort grew.

Why didn’t he just leave already? He was clearly upset with her for some reason he’d made up in his head.

“Whatever you do, you can’t vote against us,” Nathan growled, a finger pointed at her before he stormed out of her room.

Who the fuck said she was going to do that?

*

Over the course of the day, all the jurors wandered back to the meeting room, because where else was there to go?

Some conversations were light, as if making small talk would magically transport them back to Earth, but eventually, it turned to the task at hand. Their duty.

“Surely, we don’t need to discuss this. We’re all voting to save humanity,” Isabelle said, an older woman who had been one of the few who had resisted a ‘guilty’ vote for the Earthly trial.

Eleanor glared at her, and didn’t miss as Lorenzo did the same.

“I would hope so, but I’m not so sure of some people,” Nathan replied, a pointed scowl directed at Eleanor.

Just a day ago, he was holding her hand, acting like he was trying to protect her. How quickly things have changed. And all because the head alien seemed to have taken a liking to her. As if she could control that.

Eleanor couldn’t help but wonder if some psychologist had done an experiment like this back on Earth. You know, put twelve people in one room, make them vote on something terrible, just one vote will destroy the world. Sounded worse than the Stanford prison experiment.

This would definitely descend into suspicion and fights… it clearly already had. Eleanor had said nothing about voting against humanity, and yet Nathan was accusing her as if she did. This was going to be a long week.

[peggycatrerr]

i know this is the sort of statement that people would absolutely take in bad faith and crucify me for if it blew up but the way some people online talk about communication and the way they feel their neurodivergence impacts it is just plain selfish. like, yeah, of course you should be able to be your most authentic self without being judged or looked down upon, but guess what? that’s not always what people are doing to you when they express discomfort or frustration with the way you went about something. i think people have gotten so caught up in the idea that actually, the real problem is the neurotypical expectations of society, that they’ve circled around to a good ol’ “you don’t owe anyone kindness! you don’t owe anyone anything!” style approach. and as a result, they’ve become convinced that anyone who doesn’t get along with them must just judging them for having visible symptoms.

but here’s the thing:

communication is a two-way street.

maybe you tend to interrupt people a lot. it’s not coming from a place of being inconsiderate, it’s purely automatic. and maybe you got made to feel bad about that when you were a little kid and you never figured out how to let go of that bad feeling, and then you saw a tiktok telling you that this was about impulse control, that the interruptions came from hyperactivity. and now, maybe, you feel absolved. now when someone feels like you’re not listening to them when you interrupt them, you just tell yourself that that person’s ableist and needs to learn how to tolerate you. except... more often than not? that’s not the case at all. in fact, maybe, that person is also neurodivergent, and knows exactly what causes the urge to interrupt, and maybe that’s why they feel like they can comfortably say “hey man, you interrupt me a lot and it makes me feel like you don’t value what i have to say” without you accusing them of ableism, to their face or otherwise. and when you say “well this is just what i’m like, get used to it or leave”, do you know which of those options they’re more likely to pick?

or maybe your go-to way to try to connect with people is to tell them about something similar that you’ve experienced. and maybe it’s the same thing where once you learned what caused this, you came to the conclusion that you should be allowed to do it whenever you felt the urge and that everyone else needed to learn how to understand, like, “neurodivergent communication styles” or something. but maybe you do it every single time someone tells you something. maybe you do it in really inappropriate situations. maybe you go into way too much detail when you do it, to the point where you’ve actually swung the conversation around to being about your thing instead. i’ve known people who would do that last one and then, when i tried to gently redirect things back to the original topic without being rude to them, they would ignore me and keep talking about themselves, only to use their neurodivergence as an excuse if i brought it up more directly. do you know why? it’s because they only cared about their own experience in the conversation. they could not comprehend the fact that the way they spoke to me had an effect on me.

and look, nobody, regardless of neurotype, is perfect. nobody is ever going to go through life without ever hurting someone else’s feelings in a perfectly preventable situation. but... if you can minimise how often you hurt people’s feelings, wouldn’t you? who you are is not a fixed thing. no, not even your symptoms. if you seem to constantly be hurting people’s feelings, then you need to accept that you’re the common denominator, and that you are capable of working on that. will it be uncomfortable? yeah, of course! does that mean it’s actually just masking and that these people are ableist pricks who are forcing you to be inauthentic to meet their standards? NO. it means that learning and growing takes time and effort, and that the time and effort required from you will probably be greater than the time and effort required of a neurotypical person who is doing similar things for different reasons, but that doesn’t mean it’s impossible for you.

and the process of breaking those habits is going to look different for everybody. maybe you’d fare best learning how to recognise the weight of the situation you’re in and consciously thinking “would this be an appropriate time to tell my own story”. maybe you’d fare best learning how to decrease the length of that relatable story so it really is just a related anecdote and not a diversion of topic from the other person’s problems to yours. maybe you just can’t suppress the urge to interrupt so you find coping mechanisms instead, like jotting down the thing you want to say and saying “hey can we circle back to this thing when you’re done” so that way you don’t forget the thought you had but you don’t have to sacrifice paying attention to remember it. it could be literally anything, and it could start out small too, if you’re not someone who finds it easy to develop new habits.

and the thing is, none of those require you to “seem neurotypical” or to “act like  a neurotypical” or to mask. you do not have to try to never interrupt or never express your understanding of a situation through the fact that you’ve been through something similar or whatever else it is you may do that has caused other people to feel devalued. there are plenty of neurodivergent people in this world who are able to be their authentic selves and be considerate to the person they’re talking to.

but if you’re doing something so constantly that it feels like everyone in your life has asked you to be more considerate, then please, try your best to remember that they’re as sentient as you are and that everyone has the ability to impact others for better or worse and that your intentions don’t negate that impact, and that everyone has the ability to try to be a little bit nicer. even just a little, if that’s all you can manage.

[dreamofbecoming]

this isn't a breakup, dearheart, it's a season finale

guess who wrote yet another thing that isn't the next chapter of sleep now she pleads? what up demons it's me ya boi

anyway i saw this reddit post and immediately started foaming at the mouth so this happened

enjoy!

geraskier/yentriss (yenralt but not really)

rating: t

wc: 6.3k

ao3

“How dare you ask me that? How can you accuse me of something so low! I have never been unfaithful to Triss, and I never will!”

The world tilted alarmingly. Metaphorically, of course, but Geralt had never understood quite how apt a metaphor it was until just this moment.

“Triss? But you—we—what about us?”

The look of bewilderment that melted the incandescent rage off of Yen’s lovely face might have been gratifying in a less fraught circumstance.

“Wh—us? What do you mean us? We’re fine, aren’t we? I thought you liked Triss!”

“I—but—I thought—” Flustered, and correspondingly out of words, Geralt gave up and fumbled through his pockets, pulling out the little velvet box he’d been carting around all week and thrusting it out in front him, imploring Yen to put the pieces together for herself.

Yennefer, for her part, had gone very still, violet eyes wide and fixed on the ring box in Geralt’s hand. She stared for a long moment, then abruptly nodded her head once and turned on her heel towards the kitchen.

“Right. Wine. I don’t know exactly what’s happening right now, but whatever it is, we need wine. A lot of wine. Maybe all the wine you have.”

That might be excessive, given that they were having this discussion in Geralt’s living room at Corvo Bianco, but under the circumstances, he was inclined to agree with her.

This wasn’t how today was supposed to go. This wasn’t how this whole week was supposed to go, frankly.

Things had started to deteriorate not long after he finally caved and bought the ring Yen had been hinting at for months. He hadn’t yet worked out the right time to ask, so he had taken to carrying it around in case of spontaneous inspiration, until The Party.

The Party hadn’t been something he expected to earn Capital Letter Incident status when his girlfriend of six years first mentioned that her new boss was having a cookout for her team and she had been given a plus one. It had hardly registered as meaningful at all, beyond the stress of having to drag himself out of his quarterly reports to—horror of horrors—socialize. With strangers, no less.

(Perhaps Geralt should have considered it a red flag that he had never met most of Yennefer’s coworkers, but the truth was that despite their longterm and—Geralt would have insisted until about five minutes ago—very amicable relationship, they led separate lives in many ways. That was just how they both liked it. They were both dedicated to their careers, and they had very different ideas on things like home décor and family planning and how close to the nearest 24-hour grocery store a house should be and...alright maybe he could see how they weren’t quite as compatible as he had been telling himself they were for the last six years, but he did love her, alright? She was his best friend, and it wasn’t like he was ever going to find anything better than what they had, was it? He wasn’t settling, he was just being...realistic.)

The first issue arose when, upon arriving to Yen’s boss’s home, he was introduced to their hostess as “my cousin, Geralt Rivia.” He had been too startled to correct her; verbal confrontation had never been Geralt’s strong suit, and he was so taken aback that his voice nearly fled him entirely, so he let it go and resolved to ask her as soon as they were alone.

Maybe she wanted Tissaia to think she was single? Lawyers were a notoriously cutthroat bunch, maybe the implication of having someone to come home to might call Yennefer’s dedication to the firm into question. Geralt though that was ridiculous, but he didn’t pretend to understand the ins and outs of office politics. There’s a reason he owned his own business, so he never had to answer to anyone, and if any of his workers or vendors started causing problems he could just stop working with them.

Then again, maybe it was just a joke. Geralt didn’t always understand jokes on the first pass, although Yen had known him long enough to know when to explain something to him ahead of time, usually. Still, when she had continued to introduce him as her cousin to all the lawyers and legal aides scattered around Tissaia’s back garden, he had decided it must be a joke, because what else could it be? He would just have to mention to her once they left that it wasn’t something he understood or was comfortable with, and ask her to please correct the record on Monday. It wouldn’t be the first time they had had a similar chat, having known each other since their university days, and Yen was always gracious and accommodating about Geralt’s social limitations, in her own blunt, sarcastic way. In fact, she was usually the one encouraging him to set boundaries with people, and she was always pleased and proud when he put her lessons into practice, even with her. It was part of what made him love her so much.

So he had bitten his tongue (not difficult, when that was his default state anyway) and suffered through excruciating small talk with most of Yen’s coworkers. (Admittedly he did have a very pleasant conversation with Renfri Creyden from Acquisitions, who, as it turns out, was more than happy to spend a half hour trading insults about Irion Stregobor. The board chair was one of the only people from Yen’s work who Geralt knew personally, having taken his class junior year and nearly been expelled on trumped up charges after calling him out in public for sexually harassing the female students. Apparently he was as universally hated among the staff at the firm as he had been as a professor, which was gratifying.)

In the car on the way back to Geralt’s place, he had tentatively brought up his discomfort, looking for an explanation, and was surprised and concerned to be met with a terse “I didn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea,” and a refusal to discuss it further. Her mood had seemed to sour the more he had pushed for a clarification about what exactly “the wrong idea” would have been, and eventually he had given up, troubled and anxious.

He hadn’t seriously considered the possibility of an affair until Eskel brought it up. He had called his brother that same night, unable to sleep out of fear that he had somehow fucked up his relationship without realizing it and needing Eskel’s outside perspective and steady reassurance. Instead, he had been met with reluctant pity, Eskel asking him if he was absolutely sure she wasn’t cheating? Maybe with a colleague, since that would explain her insistence that no one at work be aware of their relationship?

The possibility had occurred to Geralt only very briefly, and since he had called his big brother in the hopes of being told that he was being crazy and he had nothing to worry about, the resignation in Eskel’s voice was a gut punch. He had been cheated on before—part of him wondered sometimes if it was inevitable, being an asexual person in a relationship with someone allosexual. Unfortunately, Yen was usually the one insisting he put those thoughts out of his head, that he deserved to be loved for who he was, by someone who wouldn’t need him to change to be “enough.” The thought that she might not have meant any of those things was shockingly painful.

He knew his family weren’t huge fans of Yen, but then, they’d only met her a handful of times, and never since they’d been dating. Yen’s past made her closed-off and suspicious of strangers, especially family, since her own had been the source of so much pain and betrayal. She often came off aloof and selfish, but Geralt was one of the few allowed beneath the chitinous armor she wore in the face of the outside world, and he knew that she was one of the fiercest, kindest people alive. He would take a bullet for her, and she for him, he was sure. He wished his father and his brothers could see her for who he knew her to be, but he didn’t begrudge them their caution. They lived so far away that they were rarely able to come visit. Geralt usually went home to Kaedwen a few times a year to see them, though Yen had never made the trip with him, despite multiple invitations. They had only met her twice, once at graduation, and again when the whole family—Vesemir and Guxart, Eskel, Lambert, and Aiden—, had all driven down to help Geralt pack up his Novigrad apartment and get everything shipped to the vineyard he’d just purchased in Toussaint. She had been fairly standoffish to them both times—not impolite, just distant, but the impression had been made regardless.

He wished things were different, and admittedly he had hoped maybe a wedding could be another chance to bring them together, but for now he accepted the slightly frosty status quo. If he had the words to communicate his understanding of either party to the other, he might be able to fix it, but as it was, the nuances of their dynamic eluded him. He knew the animosity on both sides was a result of their love for him, which is why he believed the whole thing was more than a bit silly, but since all involved were willing to hold the tentative peace, he decided it was more trouble to wade into the quagmire than it was to just ignore the tension.

This did mean, however, that Eskel was immediately suspicious of Yen’s behavior, and at his urging, Geralt had called his girlfriend over to ask her directly about her fidelity before he popped the question.

Which brought them to now, both of them well past tipsy, sprawled on the couch as they each tried to reconcile reality with the lives they believed they had been leading until today.

“I jus’—the thing is, Geralt, the thing I don’t get is, the thing is this. Ooh, gimme that,” Yen slurred, making grabby hands at the tub of mocha chip he had fished from the freezer a few minutes ago. Geralt handed it over obligingly, nudging her with his socked foot when she didn’t continue immediately.

“The thing is?”

“Right!” She gestured wildly with her heaping spoonful, barely noticing when Geralt lunged forward to hold a napkin underneath with a wobbly hand in an attempt to protect her expensive satin trousers. “The thing! The thing is, I don’ get it! We never even, Geralt, we never even kissed! How’d you think we were dating when we never kissed even once? You love kissing!”

“I mean, we did kiss, t’be fair. ‘M not a total idiot.”

“We kissed in college, sure, but we gave up on that after, like, a week! That was years ago! And I know you’re not an idiot, don’t talk about my best friend like that, shithead.” This last was punctuated with a jab to his kidney from a remarkably sharp knee.

Geralt took another swig of his wine. He was thankfully past the worst of the embarrassment of this evening, but there was still no easy way to be told that the woman you were supposed to have been seriously dating for the better part of a decade had apparently never noticed you were together, or thought of you as more than a friend. Still, he didn’t think all of the responsibility for this colossal miscommunication could be laid at his feet. That hardly seemed fair, considering.

“No, I mean we kissed again. Six years ago, when we were still in Novigrad. ‘S when we—ugh. When I thought we got together.”

Yen tilted her head quizzically, an impressive feat given that she was also attempting to simultaneously fit her ice cream spoon and her wine glass in her mouth. Despite the revelations of today, Geralt was grateful he was still allowed to have this, to be the person trusted to see Yennefer Vengerberg, terror of the Continent, at her least dignified.

“You had that. You know, the thing. That dinner thing. For your job. And Istredd was supposed to take you, but—”

“Oh shit! I forgot about that!”

“Blocked it out, more like. Still think you should have let me hit him.”

“He had moved out of the country, Geralt, I wasn’t gonna let you fly to Nilfgaard just to punch my ex-boyfriend who ghosted me for a job and stood me up for my celebratory promotion dinner.” The well-worn tracks of the familiar argument soothed Geralt’s lingering anxiety, and he rolled his eyes fondly.

“Spoilsport. Anyway, don’t you remember? We went out after? We were at Zoltan’s til last call, you got so fuckin’ pissed that night. You didn’t want to go home with all of Istredd’s stuff gone, so I brought you back to mine, and you. Uh. You kissed me. Nothin’ else happened, obviously, and I guess...now that I think about it, we didn’t talk about it in the morning, but you kissed my cheek again when I dropped you off home, and after that, I thought...you really didn’t notice? I kept taking you out to dinner and things? We had that picnic by the beach, and I asked you to come home to Kaedwen with me for the holidays? I was bummed when you said no, but I jus’ figured you were busy with the promotion. And I didn’t blame you after that year because I could never convince Vesemir you didn’t mean anything by it, I didn’t want you to have to deal with him bein’ a dick. Ah, fuck, everything makes so much more sense now. I’m so stupid!”

Geralt groaned, burying his face in his hands, the embarrassment returning full force. This was the most humiliating thing that had ever happened to him. Maybe to anyone. Fuck, he was going to have to tell his family about this. Lambert was never going to let it go, ever. Maybe he should just leave. Fake his death, move somewhere remote. Poviss, maybe? Nobody would look for him in Poviss.

“Oy! You’re thinking bad thoughts in there, I can tell! Stop it!”

“Augh!” Geralt flailed right off the couch when something cold and wet jabbed him in the ear.

Yen was staring wide-eyed from the couch when he managed to get his bearings, holding the offending ice cream spoon in one manicured hand.

Geralt blinked owlishly at her from the floor. She snorted inelegantly, just once, clearly holding back a giggle. The silence stretched a moment longer.

They burst into hysterical laughter at the same time, leaning forward as they howled until they smacked their foreheads together, which only made them laugh harder. Every time they started to come down, they would catch each other’s eye again and the whole thing would start again from the beginning.

When they could finally breathe again, they were both on their backs on the carpet, heads beside each other and feet pointed at opposite walls, panting as they caught their breaths.

“I meant it about the kissing, though, Geralt. I know you, remember? I know you still want that kind of closeness with your partner. You’re the cuddliest bastard I know, you dick. How could you think I would let you dangle for six years in a relationship where you weren’t fulfilled? That I would do that to you?”

For the first time in this whole convoluted mess, Geralt felt shame. Not embarrassment for having made a fool of himself, but shame for having doubted the ferocity of Yen’s love for him. After fifteen years, he should know better. He turned his head to face the coffee table so he wouldn’t have to look her in the eye.

“I just...I figured it was like before. With the others. That kissing if it wasn’t going to lead to sex wasn’t...fair to you. So you didn’t want to. And I figured, if you don’t want to, no one will. And you’re my best friend anyway, so if no one is ever going to be better, being with you is the best thing I could hope for.” Yen made an affronted noise behind him, and he turned back to her, hurrying to correct himself. “I don’t mean—it wasn’t like I wanted to be with you because I didn’t think I could do better! No one could do better than you, Yen. You’re my favorite person. I just meant, a life without kisses or cuddling would be ok, if it was with you.”

The righteous anger hadn’t left her expression despite the tears glistening in her eyes, but Geralt had known her long enough to recognize her “Geralt is being belittled by someone (including, but not limited to, himself) and I’m going to do some violence about it” face.

“Listen, fuckface, you’re my favorite person too, and that’s why you should shut the fuck up,” Yen snarled, propping herself up on one elbow and punctuating each word with a jab of her finger to Geralt’s sternum. “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a hundred times, you’re worth more than that. Those bitches at school were wrong, plain and simple. They shouldn’t have treated you that way, and one of the greatest regrets of my life is that all I did was put Nair in Sabrina’s conditioner after you broke up, and I didn’t make them all regret ever being born to cross my path.” She glowered at the memory, before her expression changed abruptly, cycling rapidly through concern into alarm.

“Oh, Geralt, shit. I’m so sorry. This is—this is a breakup for you, isn’t it? You’re going through a breakup and I’m being an asshole. Fuck. What—uh. Shit. What can I do? What do you need?”

Despite himself, Geralt laughed. “Sorry, sorry, I’m not laughing at you. Ok, I’m laughing at you a little. But only because, weirdly, I think I’m sort of...relieved?” He paused, trying to sort through his feelings and match them to the right words. The process was easier with Yen, and easier still with alcohol in his system, but it was still painstaking and slow. Yen waited patiently, more than used to Geralt’s need for time and stillness to come up with his words by now. “You know I love you, more than anybody, but now that I’m looking back over the whole thing, I think it felt sort of...forced? Like I wanted so badly to be in love with you that I thought if I just believed it hard enough, it would be true? I think...I think I tried to convince myself that this is what romantic love is supposed to feel like, and even though I knew deep down it isn’t, I told myself it didn’t matter because it was still better than anything else I would ever get, so I should just make the best of it. That’s why—” He waved vaguely in the direction of the ring box, abandoned on one of the end tables somewhere around bottle number three.

“Yeah, why did you get a ring? I mean, why now?”

“You kept talking about marriage and weddings and proposing, and I saw you looking at that one when you came with me to get that watch for Guxart’s Midwinter gift. I thought you were dropping hints.”

One flawless eyebrow arches, her face incredulous. “You thought I was asking you for something by dropping subtle, indirect hints? And it worked? I don’t know if I’m offended or proud, honestly.” Geralt laughed again, because alright, that was fair. She was right, asking indirectly was a terrible way to get Geralt’s attention about anything, and apparently the only reason it worked this time was because she hadn’t actually been dropping anything at all, he was just scavenging for discarded social cues on the side of the road like a raccoon. He tried, and mostly failed, to hold back a giggle at the image.

“Wait! You got the ring I was looking at?”

“...Yes?”

“Shit, I was planning to buy that for Triss!” Well, that certainly explained all the wedding talk. “Fuck, do you think they’ll have another one at the store?”

Now it was Geralt’s turn to lift a brow. “Why would you need another one?”

“For Triss, Geralt, keep up!” She was getting more and more frantic, hands digging into her hair in distress.

“Yen. Look at me.” Panicked eyes met his. “You don’t need another ring. The one you wanted is right there.” He pointed at the box.

Yen’s gaze followed his fingers, and after a moment she seemed to deflate. She looked back at him, somewhat sheepish. “’M drunker’n I thought, I think.” Geralt snorted another laugh.

“You think? Dork.” She whacked him in the chest indignantly, making him chuckle. “Mean it, though. ‘S yours. Bought it for you, after all. Ah fuck, I’m gonna have to apologize to Triss, aren’t I? I bet I’ve been an asshole without noticing, somehow.”

He cringed at the prospect. Maybe he would wait until after Yen proposed. She’d be in a good mood, that way, and would definitely feel secure in the relationship, so that would be better, right? When was the best time to apologize to your best friend’s fiancée for mistakenly believing you were the one dating their partner for the entire time you’ve known each other?

In fairness, Geralt wasn’t sure he could blame the autism for this one; this didn’t seem like the kind of situation a neurotypical person would know how to navigate either.

There was another undignified snort from Yen’s direction. “Maybe not to Triss, but definitely to Jaskier.”

“Who?”

She raised an eyebrow at him from where she’d shifted to prop her back against the leg of the sofa. “Jaskier? The guy Triss and I tried to set you up with, who was devastated when you blew him off completely and never called? Although—oh, shit, that makes sense now! I was so sure you’d like him, I couldn’t figure out what the problem was!”

Geralt had to struggle a little through the wine-haze to figure out what she was talking about. Eventually a foggy memory surfaced of a dinner he and Yen had gone to several months previous. A double-date, she’d called it. Which—oh. Ah. He had assumed that he and Yen were on a date with another couple, but now...well, fuck. That explained why “Triss’s boyfriend” had been so flirty and handsy with him all night, and why he had seemed so disappointed when Geralt insisted on bidding him a firm goodnight outside the restaurant and going home alone. Yen had gone home with Triss, which made a lot of sense in hindsight, but at the time he had written off as women best friends doing women best friends things.

Being flirted with overtly enough for him to notice had made Geralt tremendously uncomfortable, especially from someone who was supposed to be on a date with someone else, right in front of both of their partners. He remembered thinking the man was very attractive, but must be a special kind of sleezy to behave so shamelessly in full view of both of their dates, and wondering why a sweetheart like Triss was with someone like that in the first place.

With the fresh eyes of new information, that night took on a whole new sheen. Jaskier had, evidently, not been sleezy in the slightest, but instead very gratifyingly interested in his date, who spent all night brushing him off and paying attention to another woman, in front of her rightful partner. Fuck, Geralt was the sleeze, wasn’t he?

“Oh, gods, why did you let me act like such a prick? He probably thinks terribly of me now,” Geralt groaned, flopping backwards and focusing intently on the underside of the coffee table. The far corner could use another pass with the sander, probably. He should take it into the workshop soon. Not tomorrow, though. Tomorrow was for lying in the bathtub cursing his decision-making.

Yen let out a thoughtful hum. “I wouldn’t be so sure, actually. Triss said he really liked you, and was disappointed he never heard from you. I don’t know him that well, but I bet if you called him and explained the misunderstanding, he’d probably think it was funny. If you’re interested, that is…?”

He glared at her from his place under the table. She knew damn well what kind of person he was attracted to.

She rolled her eyes in response, their ability to have silent conversations apparently not affected by the radical rearranging of their relationship over the last few hours. “Don’t give me that look, I know he’s your type, that’s why I set you up in the first place. I’m never wrong. I only meant that, for you, you’re getting out of a serious, long-term relationship. Are you sure you want to jump right back in? I might not know him very well, but Triss does, and she adores him—he doesn’t deserve to just be a rebound for you, you know.”

Chagrined, he hauled himself up to sit beside her. He snagged the discarded wine bottle and poured them both another glass.

“I don’t—Hm. I don’t know how to explain it without sounding rude.”

“Like that ever stopped you before, you brute. Out with it.”

“I feel...I feel like this is the biggest, most significant breakup of my life, and also like it isn’t that at all.”

A pause. “You’re right, that’s not a very good explanation.”

He flicked her in the ear, and dodged her retaliating pinching fingernails.

“Shut up, you know I’m bad at this. I just mean—I’m not sure what I mean. But it feels ok. It’s weird that I’ve apparently been single for...Melitele, eight years, but I feel like I want to try something real again, not mourn what I never had.”

“That was damn near poetic, that was.”

“Shut up, Yen.”

“Yes, dear.”

-----

Jaskier, uncharacteristically, was silent for a long moment. He sipped from the glass of (admittedly delicious) rosé Geralt had thrust into his hand practically the moment he walked through the door, apparently a personal favorite of his host.

Jaskier had not expected to ever hear from Geralt Rivia again after the most disappointingly mediocre date of his life. (He wouldn’t dare call it the worst date, not after the time Valdo set his favorite jacket on fire “by accident” after Jaskier won the composition scholarship they had both been gunning for, on their first last date (of, regrettably, several last dates, every time Jaskier got bored enough or lonely enough to give him another shot).)

Despite being incredibly charming in an obviously unintentional way, the absolutely stunning vintner (Vintner! That was his actual job! Owning and operating a vineyard!) had all but ignored him all night, despite Jaskier’s very best attempts at flirting (which he knew from experience were at least 95% effective), and had, instead, been oddly invested in Triss’s girlfriend Yennefer all night. Not in a creepy way, really, but just in a way that felt very much like he didn’t have strong opinions one way or the other about anyone else at the table, and wasn’t interested in forming them. Triss had mentioned that Geralt and Yen had been best friends since college, so he hadn’t thought it was that weird that they were obviously close, necessarily, except that it felt like Yennefer was actually on a date with both of them and no one had bothered to tell poor Jaskier.

Which, given the stumbling but genuinely contrite apology and explanation he had been treated to over the last half hour or so, made a lot of sense, given that apparently Geralt and Triss were both on a date with Yennefer, but apparently only Geralt knew that.

Truth be told, if he had heard this story from any other date, he would have called bullshit immediately and left without looking back. But not only had he really, really wanted to go out with Geralt again (it wasn’t just that he was stupid gorgeous, although Triss had showed him Geralt’s Facebook before the date and Melitele be good no one should look that sexy in overalls, but he also had a sneaky, dry humor that contrasted with Jaskier’s perfectly, and his eyes lit up beautifully when he talked about his brothers or his grapes or his horse (who apparently lives in the?! Stables?!? Behind the farmhouse????) and basically everything about him was perfectly tailored to suit Jaskier’s fantasy of the perfect man), Triss had also promised that while the story wasn’t hers to tell, she swore on the one working printer in the office that it had been a misunderstanding and he should, at the very least, listen to Geralt’s explanation.

Whatever he had expected when he texted Geralt back, agreeing to hear him out, it hadn’t been this.

“So, just so I’m totally clear on the details, you thought you were in a relationship with Yennefer this whole time?”

“Yeah. Since before we moved here from Novigrad.”

“And...forgive me if this is a rude question, but—”

“How did I believe that for so long when it wasn’t true?”

“Yes. That.”

Geralt sighed, looking more sheepish than offended, thankfully. He swirled his own wine glass thoughtfully. “I don’t know if Yen mentioned when she set us up, but I’m asexual. So a lot of the time, a romantic relationship doesn’t look that much different from a strong friendship for me, and when Yen broke up with her ex and kissed me while she was drunk, I guess I just...got my wires crossed. And even though she’s my best friend, our circles don’t really cross that much, so no one realized until now.”

That raised several questions for Jaskier, and he wasn’t sure which one to ask first. He decided to cross his T’s as Triss’s best friend, to get it out of the way. “Do you kiss Yennefer a lot, still? In the last couple years, I mean?”

The wry smile on Geralt’s face told him he hadn’t succeeded at all in being subtle, but that was fine. “You mean since Yen started seeing Triss? Don’t worry, I’m glad she has a friend like you looking out for her. And no, we haven’t kissed again since that first drunken night six years ago, actually. It’s...it’s one of the reasons she was mad at me, to start with.”

“Why on earth would she be mad at you for not kissing her if you weren’t together?”

“She was more upset that I was willing to settle for a relationship without it, and that I never brought it up with her. I guess that would have solved the problem a lot sooner, probably, but I didn’t want to rock the boat. She hates when I don’t stand up for myself.”

Mollified somewhat, Jaskier hummed into his drink. “So you do prefer some level of physical intimacy in a relationship, then?”

To Jaskier’s unmitigated delight, Geralt blushed at this. He mumbled something unintelligible into his wine.

Utterly charmed, Jaskier grinned at him across the coffee table. “Sorry, what was that, darling?”

If anything, Geralt blushed even deeper before replying in a flat voice, “I like cuddling, and pretty much anything that ends with everyone’s pants still on. But mostly kissing.”

Jaskier’s grin grew, and he leaned forward on the couch with his flirtiest expression. “Well, I can work with that, darling, that’s no problem at all.”

Surprisingly, Geralt’s expression became pensive. “Are you sure?”

Taken aback, Jaskier sat back up. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

Geralt’s fingers worked anxiously at the stem of his wine glass. “It has been before, is all. A problem, I mean.”

“How could it possibly be a problem to be allowed to hold and kiss someone as lovely as you?”

“It wouldn’t be...unfair to you? To spend time making out and get you worked up, and make you stop every time?”

“Geralt, can you look at me?” Jaskier’s heart broke as Geralt shook his head, staring intently at his wine where it rested on his knee. “Alright, that’s ok. But listen to me, alright? You don’t owe me sex. You don’t owe anyone sex. You don’t owe anyone an orgasm just because you kissed them and they got turned on. That’s a them problem. If anyone has ever told you that them being turned on by you means you owe them something, they’re a prick and I hope they get hit by a truck.”

This, at least, got a startled snort out of Geralt, who looked up tentatively. Jaskier fought the urge to reach for him, so beautiful and so vulnerable, and hold him close. “I guess it’s one of those things that’s easier to know than it is to believe. There are...a number of women I dated in college that Yen still thinks about tracking down and maiming every now and then. It’s still hard to believe her sometimes.”

“Well, if she needs a getaway driver, tell her to call me,” he exclaimed cheerfully, grateful for the opportunity to dispel the somber mood that had descended. “You know, this is not the conversation I thought I’d be having when I promised Triss I’d hear you out.”

Geralt barked a laugh, and smiled a little shyly. It should be illegal for him to make expressions like that, honestly. “You’re easy to talk to. It’s hard, with most people. Can talk with Yen, and my family, but that’s usually it. ‘s nice.”

Jaskier reined in the impulse to squeal into one of the throw pillows on the couch. “That’s one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me, dearheart. Even if this is certainly not my usual fare for a second date!”

Geralt lifted one lovely silver eyebrow. “This is our second date?”

“Well, just because you didn’t know we were on the first one, doesn’t mean I shouldn’t get to count it, don’t you think? That’s hardly fair,” Jaskier joked back, before a thought occurred to him and he sobered again. “Geralt, are you—is this what you want? I mean, you just ended what was, for all intents and purposes, a relationship that lasted the better part of a decade, and nearly became an engagement—what exactly are you looking for? Because I should warn you, I’ve done the casual thing, and I’m interested in something more serious, but the last thing I want is to take advantage of you.”

There was that wry little smile again. Jaskier wanted to kiss it off his face so much.

“Yen said the same. She threatened me if I used you as a rebound, which is pretty much as good as a declaration of everlasting friendship from her. I promise, this isn’t that. I talked to my therapist and everything before I texted you. I’m still not sure why you would want to date someone like me, but Yen and Triss were very insistent that I apologize and ask for another chance if I wanted one, and I do, so…”

Goodness, there was a lot to unpack in there. Jaskier had no idea he’d made such a favorable impression on Triss’s terrifying fiancée, but that was nice to know, at least. And he was glad Geralt had a therapist already, or he would have asked Borch for a recommendation at his appointment next week to pass along. But the rest...well, that just wouldn’t do. That wouldn’t do at all.

“Someone like you? You mean gorgeous and funny and interesting and successful? Someone like that? Because I can’t think of anyone I’d like to date more, to be honest with you.” Oh, there was that lovely blush again. Excellent.

“I meant more autistic, asexual, and enough of an idiot not to notice I was single for six years, actually.”

“Other than the part where you called yourself an idiot, which is obviously a lie, I don’t see a single red flag in that sentence. What about me? I’m a washed-up musician with ADHD who talks too much and has fucked too many people, getting paid barely minimum wage, living in a shitty flat in a city I moved to to escape my toxic ex. Am I not worth dating?”

The look of horrified outrage on Geralt’s face was flattering, at least. “No! Of course not! You’re beautiful, and funny, and kind, and you do amazing work helping refugee families, and your music is incredible! Anyone would be lucky to have you!”

Well, fuck, now it was Jaskier’s turn to blush. “You’ve heard my music?”

The obvious embarrassment on Geralt’s face was, frankly, unfairly endearing. “Yen showed me your Youtube before the double date. It’s. Nice,” he mumbled into his wine glass. Jaskier was absolutely sure he had cartoon hearts floating around his head by now.

“Alright, up.”

“What?”

“Up! Come on! Take my hands, darling.” Jaskier rose from the couch and bounced over to Geralt’s seat in the armchair, holding out his hands and making grabbing motions. Geralt stood more slowly, looking bemused, but grasped Jaskier’s hands gently in his own larger ones without complaint.

“Geralt Bartholomew Rivia, will you go on a romantic date, which will hopefully lead to a romantic relationship, with me, Julian Alfred Pankratz, called Jaskier?”

Geralt laughed, despite his obvious confusion. “My middle name isn’t Bartholomew.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes. “Immaterial. Answer the question, Geralt. I want to make sure there is absolutely no confusion, and we are both on the same page.”

Geralt’s lovely eyes twinkled like firelight and he smiled, small and genuine and gorgeous. “Yes, Jaskier, I will go on a romantic date with you.”

Jaskier grinned back, rocking forward to plant a kiss on the lovely blush still staining Geralt’s cheeks. “I’m thrilled to hear it, dearheart.”

[felixcloud6288]

Higurashi: Curse Killing Chapter 12

Nice little tie-in to that poem from chapter 8. I guess Teppei (or what Satoko thought was Teppei) told her she stinks and has to take super long baths.

Now that he's in a calmer state of mind, Keiichi has realized that casually declaring a death curse on people is not a wise thing to do. It's definitely understandable he'd regret killing Irie because he declared his curse in a heated moment, but it's also surprising he regrets he killed Ooishi. They've been nothing but hostile to each other.

Nice transition from Keiichi's headspace back to the real world. Keiichi's been hearing footsteps and thinking they're from whatever is giving him the curse power. So you might think the hand is also the hand of the curse. Then it turns out the steps and hand were just Satoko.

That conversation Keiichi and Satoko have as they take the long walk up the shrine proves how killing Teppei wouldn't make Satoko happy. He admits to everything, starting with how he wasn't at the festival, then how he wish Takano, Irie, and Ooishi dead, and finally how he murdered Satoko's uncle.

Satoko doesn't want to be around a murderer. Especially one wearing her friend's face.

The scene would have been more on the nose if we saw that mural from chapter 1. Give a subtle hint to what Keiichi should have done instead.

We learned from earlier this arc that Satoko's birthday is a few days after the festival. There is a possibility this chapter is on her birthday. There is also a possibility that Keiichi murdered Mion and Rena on her birthday in Abducted by Demons. And Mion may have kidnapped and murdered her on her birthday in Cotton Drifting.

So, happy birthday Satoko.

The anime handled the scene with Rika far better than the manga did. In the anime, Keiichi pulled out the hatchet he was carrying and swung it at the crows. At one point he dropped it and it got covered in blood. Then Satoko sees Keiichi swinging madly with a blood-soaked weapon, standing over her friend's disemboweled corpse.

Here, he just finds the body and screams. Then Satoko sees it and just accuses him of killing Rika for no reason. I mean c'mon Satoko, this is Higurashi, not Ace Attorney.

Of course, it's not as if Satoko is in a right state of mind. She's concluded that Keiichi isn't actually the same Keiichi she knows. And Keiichi kind of agrees with that. After what his friends said last chapter, he believes his memories and perception is what's wrong and that there is some other Keiichi living a happy life.

And yeah, Satoko genuinely thinks she deserves every bad thing that's happened to her. She damaged the statue of Oyashiro some years ago and let Rika take the blame for it. And now she thinks every bad thing that happens to her is Oyashiro-sama punishing her for it.

It made me double check the last arc and I don't see any damage to the statue. Maybe Rika's parents fixed it, or it could just be an accidental inconsistency due to the arcs having different artists.

And for the third arc in a row, Keiichi is wondering how everything fell apart like it did. How did these happy days end so horribly? At the end of Abducted by Demons and Cotton Drifting, Keiichi wished that the truth be exposed and the case be solved.

But here, almost as if frustrated by his constant failures, Keiichi instead wished for the death of Hinamizawa.

back

[kapten425]

Chapter 4 Part 1 "First Impressions"

The Eternal Council was at a disarray. The incident had shook them to their very core, after it's description. A student of the Academy was attacked by a Nokstelian citizen, and worst of all by the apprentice of one of the Nokstelian Master Craftsmans. Luckily Seluvis was alive and breathing. But he was unconscious and unable to answer questions. The Academy was waiting for his recovery in order to find out what really happened. Despite initial reports from the guards, telling that Seluvis said that Elias was the one who attacked him, Master Enouch and Lusat were adamant that Elias would never hurt Seluvis. Master Enouch's words holded little power since they could be considered an attempt to cover up his apprentice's fault, but Lusat's testimony was truly turning things upside down. This was a mess. The Council gathered at the throne room along with the King of the Eternal Cities, King Gallamir, to deside Elias's fate. The fact he was an orphan, and from the albinauric village, made things rather easy in the king's head. Elias was better dead than alive. After the final statements it was time to vote. The king rose from his throne.

"Now that the situation has been addressed, and everyone has expressed their own opinion on the matter. We can......"

Before he could finish finish he was stopped by one of the council members.

"Your Highness, what about Master Enouch's statement on the matter. As a long serving member of the council he must be allowed to express his opinion."

The King looked annoyed at the comment.

"I disagree. Master Enouch, though an important member of this council, has ties to the accused. For that reason I ordered him to distance himself from this meeting, so that the final verdict would be as unaffected by personal feelings as it can."

The member sat once again, having his question answered. Gallamir rose from his throne.

"So are we ready to render judgement?"

All 16 council members nodded to one another in agreement. The King, seeing that they were ready he continued.

"Very well, All finding the accused Elias guilty, raise your hand."

After a brief look between them, out of the 16 members, 8 raised their hands. The King, seeing the situation sighted as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I see. So it falls to me to decide his fate."

He fixed his posture.

"In that case I decree that........"

His words were interrupted by the opening of the throne room doors. The Knights at the door stood at attention, announcing the visitor.

"Her Majesty Queen Merida of the Eternal Cities has arrived."

With that a female figure entered the throne room. The council members rose and bow at the entrance of their Queen. Her entrance had quite the impact on them. Her black dress waved as she walked to the center of the throne room. Nobody could see her face due to the black veil covering it. But anyone could guess that she was angry. As she reached the center she bowed gracefully at the council members.

"Honoured Members of the Eternal Council, I greet each and every one of you. But assist me as I try to understand the reason behind this meeting. As I recall the Council is to be summoned in case of an event that would cause serious problems to the Cities. So what could be so important."

The King huffed in disapproval. She had completely bypass him.

"I was the one that summoned them my Queen, the King of the Eternal Cities, as you recall."

The Queen's hand tighten.

"I do recall your Highness. But you should also remember who put that crown on your head."

The King was visibly angry with that statement. The Queen turned to the council, showing her back to the King.

"I leave for 3 days to attend a ceremony at the city of Nokron, only to be informed about the summoning of the Council here. You have to expect my immediate return. And as I returned I was informed about the incident."

She started pacing the center of the throne room.

"A citizen of Nokstela is accused of attacking and wounding gravely a student of the Academy of Raya Lucaria. The accused has been arrested and locked in prison, while the student was returned to the Academy for treatment. As of now he has yet to recover, and he is in no place to explain what happened...."

Her pacing became more intense causing everyone to be on high alert.

"Of course the Academy will request some action on our part to show our respect and IF we don't deliver then we are locked in a route of direct conflict with the Carian Royal Family......"

Gallamir tried to stop her.

"I wouldn't go that far my Queen."

Ignoring him she continued without a pause.

"Which will result in an all-out war between them and us ultimately leading to the interference of the Golden Order and the Capital......... Is that it?"

The King hastily answered the question.

"Of course not, this is preposterous."

Merida stopped in place.

"Right. Then please enlighten me, My Wise and Illustrious King of the City of Nokstela. If non of those actions would lead to war."

She instantly turned to face Gallamir, with her hands crossed to her chest.

"WHY....WAS.... THE COUNCIL.... SUMMONED..."

Her booming voice spooked the entire throne room. Even the King himself was stricken with fear. But it was to be expected from the Queen of Destined Death. They were many words that could describe Merida's rule. Decisive,Cold, Draconic. But one word could never be used. Unjust. From the moment she stepped on the throne she ruled with an iron fist. Everything was done according to her judgement and command. Despite that though she was willing to listen to anyone who had showed his or her resolve. And always in the end she would choose the best for the Eternal Cities. The King trying to compose himself, and even more furious than before, started to talk.

"And what would you expect from us my Queen. To simply sit idle while you were away. The situation had to be resolved."

Merida sighted at her "husbands"idiotic comment.

"If you were so willing to assist, then you should have started with a more thorough investigation of both the incident and the people involved."

"What do you mean?"

"I have asked for information regarding the two persons in question. The Nokstelian citizen, Elias I believe his name was, is considered by many around the city as a calm, intelligent and well-mannered individual. Also a promising apprentice of Master Enouch, who by the way was NOT allowed to defend his pupil."

Merida started walking towards Gallamir. Coming closer and closer.

"Seluvis is considered the same in terms of sorcery, but with one big exception. He is self-centred, egotistical, cunning and ruthless. Even his Master, the Honoured Lusat, considers him responsible for the incident."

Merida was now face to face with Gallamir. Despite the veil Gallamir could sense her piercing gaze, locking him in place. Merida continued.

"Even one of those statements could earn Elias the benefit of the doubt. And yet you choose to avoid them all. It's clear to me what you are trying to accomplish."

She came close to his ear.

"Elias would be dead not because he was guilty, but because you decided he was. A small show of power. And Elias a martyr of that power......... isn't that right."

The King sighted in frustration. By decree of Queen Marika, Ruler of the Golden Capital and the Lands Between and Creator of the Golden Order , the decision regarding the life or death of a citizen in the Lands Between falls to the jurisdiction of the Queen of Destined Death, Queen Merida. Although in rare occasions in the Eternal Cities the King can decide the fate of a citizen on his own, only if the Queen is occupied by means that separate her from the Eternal Capital, the City of Nokstela. But for the King to do so he needs the approval of the Eternal Council or at least the majority vote. Gallamir's plan to assert some control had backfired. The King tried to explain only to be stopped by Merida's hand. Merida continued her speech, this time addressing to the council.

"At any rate, given the fact that I stand before you now and that by the end you have not reached a decision. By my decree as Queen of the Eternal Cities. I decide that the reason for the meeting is non existent and any decision taken or about to be taken is revoked. As for the matter of the incident I would be the one personally to deliver judgement to the accused when and how I find it necessary. Any objections;"

The Council member looked at each other and after some deliberation the Council Representative rose from his seat.

"This Council abides to the decision taken by its Queen and would like to apologize for this mess."

The Queen smiled under the veil. They got the message. With a bow she replied.

"Thank you Councilor Eradoth, as well as the entirety of the council. Then I declare that this meeting is adjourned. May the stars shine bright above us."

The Council responded in unison.

"MAY THE STARS SHINE BRIGHT ABOVE US."

And with that the council members began to withdraw. King Gallamir tried to approach Queen Merida, but before he could get near the Queen already passed through the throne room gate. Before the gate closed he noticed to people approaching her, propably her agents. He was furious. How did she find out so fast about his plan. Now not only was he stopped by her, she also made him look like a fool. As he withdraw to his chambers several profanities and curses could be heard from the throne room.

Outside of the Throne room Queen Merida could finally take a breath. The truth was that everything she said didn't come from her agents, but from a letter written by Enouch and Lusat, that was delivered by a crow. If this was not the reason for this meeting her plan could have backfired tremendously. Still she was thankfull that her idiotic husband fell for it. He was so absorbed in his attempt to cover his plan that he didn't realize her trembling under her veil. As she exited the room Enouch and Lusat approached her. Enouch, visually anxious asked immediately.

"My Queen, how did it go. Is Elias going to be....."

Merida raised her hand in a dismissive way.

"Don't worry. Everything went well. Elias is not getting executed for the time being."

Enouch breathed in relief. He had gone far and beyond to save his apprentice, his son as many view it. He didn't mind the comments by the other council members, in fact he always looked at Elias as something more than his apprentice. To him Elias was truly his legacy, his continuation, the son he never had. Lusat was also relieved, once Seluvis was up he was gonna lecture him severe for what happened. He was sure Seluvis was responsible for that incident, and he would have a lot to apologize for. Lusat turned to Merida to ask her.

"What do we do now? How do we deal with this situation."

Merida came closer to the two man.

"I have a plan, but before I tell you I need to know something. Enouch do you trust Elias, to do the right thing."

Enouch, without skipping a beat answered.

"Yes my Queen."

"Then here is what we are gonna do."

And with that they started walking towards a more secluded area to discuss their plan. Elias's freedom.

[reverend-dog]

Murmur

“Our top story tonight is a new twist on a story that’s become all too painfully familiar in our city.” The newscaster fixed a suitably grave expression on her face. “The supervillain group calling themselves Death March were found dead in their hideout early this morning. Preliminary reports indicate the members of the group – Ebon Razor, Feralis, Mega-Smash, and Aunt Arctic – got into an argument with each other, which escalated into a deadly fight. Police are still investigating,” the newscaster paused, “but if I may make a personal observation: at least the city can breathe a little easier now. The villains did for themselves what police and our superheroes could not.”

The doorbell chimed for attention from the front door. The woman groaned as she rose from the kitchen table, and shuffled in slippered feet toward the sound. She snorted in recognition as she peered through the spyhole, then unlocked and opened the door. “Hello, Vera.”

“Morning, Glory,” responded the woman from the front step. “Got a few minutes?”

Glory took a drag from her joint, then stepped back and beckoned Vera in. “Guess if I don’t,” she observed, “you’d just come back with a warrant.”

Vera smiled and shook her head. “On what grounds? You’re a law-abiding citizen who’s never been accused of anything, aren’t you?”

Glory led the way to the kitchen. “Coffee?”

“Please,” Vera accepted, and claimed a chair at the table. She glanced at the television perched on the nearby counter. The news had moved on from local to national affairs. “I take it you heard about Death March.”

Glory set a steaming mug on the table near Vera. “Punks,” she grunted as she resumed her own seat. She pushed a stray lock of iron-colored hair back into place. “Only good thing they ever did, saving the city the cost of a trial and prison.”

Vera sipped her coffee, and smiled as she set the mug down. “Sweetened with honey,” she commented. “You remembered.” She sat forward in her chair, face suddenly intent. “Officially, it’s being treated as a slam dunk. Like you said, no honor among thieves, good riddance. But here’s the thing: Ebon Razor and Aunt Arctic were siblings, so were Feralis and Mega-Smash. They were intermarried, too – Ebon Razor to Feralis, Aunt Arctic to Mega-Smash. They were about as close as a group could be.” She shook her head. “Weird for them to fall out so badly.”

“Most violent deaths happen at the hands of family and friends,” Glory pointed out. “You should know that, better than most.”

“Point taken,” Vera conceded. “And we have no idea what their relationships were actually like, just what they showed during their capers.” She sipped more coffee, and licked her lips in appreciation. “I’m sure Metroguard is relieved about it. They got their asses kicked up and down the block, the last few times they went up against Death March. People were even calling for their charter to be revoked.” She heaved a sigh, and gazed out Glory’s back door to a compact, immaculate garden. “And with the evidence we’ve found in their hideout, the department can close files on quite a few cases.”

“So why aren’t you happy?” Glory pressed. “You don’t buy that they turned on each other?”

Vera shrugged. “It’s very neat,” she commented. “So few things in my line of work are neat.” She drained her mug, then stood up. “Well, I should get going. Just wanted to stop in and say hi, neighbor.”

“Any time, Vera,” Glory invited. “You know that.” She stood as well, and led the way to the front door. Fresh sunlight poured in as she opened the door to let her visitor out.

Vera paused on the front step, and turned. “We’re about the same age, Glory,” she pointed out. “Remember about fifteen years ago, a villain went by the handle Murmur?”

Glory considered. “Right,” she said after a few moments. “Weird sort. Think they were supposed to have some kind of mental powers? Nobody seemed really sure about it, so far as I heard.”

“That’s the one,” Vera nodded. “You hear what happened to her?”

Glory tilted her head. “Don’t recall,” she admitted. “They dropped off the radar after a while, most people figured they’d gotten killed or sent up. I guess you’re going to tell me different?”

Vera shrugged. “She was never arrested, here or anywhere else. Interpol and CIPHER have no records on her since then.” She regarded Glory. “Want to hear my theory?”

“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me whether I want to or not,” Glory grumbled.

“I think she retired,” Vera offered. “Maybe she got what every villain seems to want, one last big score, and hung up the cape and cowl. Or maybe you’re right, and she got vanished by another villain, or a vigilante.” She pursed her lips, and gazed toward the street. Trees dotted the sidewalk, and children colored on the sidewalk on the far side. “But there’s a case, cold now. Murmur walks up to an armored truck making its delivery. The crew just get out, and stand by while she takes the truck and drives off.” She shook her head. “The crew were bonded and experienced, spotless records all. Even though the company couldn’t prove them dirty, they still lost their jobs, never worked security again. One committed suicide.”

Glory shook her head. “Rough. But why are you telling me this?”

“Well,” Vera mused, “Murmur was always local. And she was picky about her targets. Always went after marks that were corporate, insured. So if she did retire, makes sense to me she’d stick around familiar ground. And you know Death March’s record, they lived up to their name.”

“You trying to tell me,” Glory let skepticism drip from her voice, “that an old supervillain came out of retirement to exterminate a group of slugs the police and heroes couldn’t catch, because they were messing up her city?”

“I know!” Vera admitted. “It’s silly. And like you said, spouses and siblings attack each other all the time.” She grinned and shrugged, and stepped off Glory’s front porch toward the sidewalk. “Take care, Glory.”

“You too, Vera,” Glory returned. She watched her neighbor stroll to her car, then shut the door. Alone, she sagged against the door and blasted a breath.

“Could she know?”

[strider-rambles]

avoidant attachment sucks balls

i keep feeling the urge to spill my guts but i'm so used to keeping everything behind tight lips and grimaces that its almost impossible for me to really put it into words now. i have so much to say and i have so many feelings its just not. happening and i keep wanting to sit my friends down and have heart to hearts and everything else but i think i might've managed to completely convince myself that they don't want to hear it.

and i miss having in depth, intellectual conversation, i guess. i wish i could sit down and have that side of me satiated because its its kind of a comfort i was raised on debates, and beyond that, the wholehearted sharing of experience

but i was also raised to be deeply isolationist. i avoid everyone i love because i get uncomfortable with the idea of intimacy the idea that someones expecting, begging for a reply i get so fucking uncomfortable and yet i crave that closeness to no end

and if i can control it, its fine if i can control every aspect of conversation; when, where, what, etc. i am okay if i can control every aspect of interaction; touch, time, location, i am fine

but that's fucked up. its fucked up. because they have feelings too and they might need more interaction than i can give them comfortably and i wish i wasn't like this i wish i wasn't so scared of the idea of being known, being loved, having expectations placed upon me but i don't know how to fix it so here i am rambling on tumblr, instead of being like. a normal dude, and talking to people, because its gotten to the point where im not comfortable talking to people about these sorts of things BECAUSE i'm so isolated everyones at an arms length away i am trapped in my own prison of fear and boy do i not know what to do about it like you'd think i'd have some idea of how to fix it but i don't and i i kind of don't WANT to fix it. because this is comfortable. yes its lonely but its comfortable as soon as someone starts showing interest i almost just avoid them ive gotten through it a lot of the time and there are special cases where i just don't find the person to be someone i could really get down and dirty in conversation with but a lot of the time its just my own fear that brings me here alone, and sad, and so so so exhausted

i dread it when my friends dm me. like its that bad and i don't want to dread it i want to be excited and everything else but im getting worse. im getting so much fucking worse i just want to be stuck in my own little hole and reach out when i want to but that's unfair to them and it doesn't help anyone not me, but fuck. its just so comfortable and i cant. find any reason to not do it and i fuck

its so unfair to them but i want it so bad i want that control at this point i'm gonna get accused of being a dirk LMAO i am my fathers son, something something fuck, i wish i were normal like its such a pain in the fucking ass to be like this i just god and part of me wishes those friends would find this blog because itd be so much easier than looking them in the eye and explaining this because fuck, man its embarrassing. hey, just so you know, i wasn't allowed to have friends as a kid so im super weird about having friends now and also uh never contact me ever until i reach out to you because i- like shut the fuck up dude

its like i want to punish people for liking me for wanting to hang out with me self hatred is CRAZY dave you should be over that arc i guess its just mild self dissatisfaction because like ugh. i'm totally trying to punish people for liking me and also punishing myself by never letting myself be normal

but heres the problem as well its like god i don't WANT to be honest with people because they get emotional and then that just makes me uncomfortable all over again and like god i just feel the need for control so so so fucking bad. i don't even know why its not that i don't want to get close its just that i don't like when someone RECIPROCATES. fuck more thoughts coming soon maybe i don't know.

[down-for-tea]

I’m pissed.

This shit is so unfair. If I did the same exact thing, I’d be accused and condemned as doing it on purpose.

So why isn’t it the same for him?

Why doesn’t he have to play by the rules? Why does he get to get away with everything? Why do I always have to be the bigger person? Why do I always get the short end of the stick?

Now I have to bottle it in and keep tabs on every injustice for the next 3 months so I can build a case against both of them. One for favoritism and one for stealing my work and therefore my money.

I’m tired of those two being bosom buddies and the manager acting like I’m the crazy bitch and my stupid coworker pretending he’s all innocent.

Fuck both of them.

I can’t believe I was willing to give the manager another chance. I should have known better. He’s been showing his cards as against me the whole time.

I’m so mad and upset and tired. What do I do? I can’t fix anything. Nothing will change.

I don’t want to change roles again because I don’t want a pay cut, but also I think I need to start considering I’d be a lot happier not in this role.

I’ll give it one last go here to see if I can keep my mouth shut about everything that’s fucked up and unfair for long enough to load my metaphorical gun with enough evidence.

Like everything else in my life, I hang on too long to things that are killing me because I like them, not because they’re good for me. Same goes for this role.

Idk I’m just so resigned but also want to fight? I’m the definition of insanity because I keep doing the same thing expecting different results trying to make this whole situation fair to me.

But I guess I was never meant to win, and I’m not even the main character in my own life.

Can anyone give me a reason to keep going? I just want everything to stop hurting.

[truckreincarnation]

Truthful Girl... || 19 || Trial 1.6 || RE: Accusations Again

So much being said, so many voices accusing and defending, she was at her breaking point after only moments, she didn’t want to keep doing this and no matter what she did she was going to be the centre of this conversation one way or another. And what would even happen if she did manage to push the accusations to somebody else. She’d just have to watch somebody die no matter what. This was horrible, a terrible situation that she didn’t want to be in. She didn’t want to talk anymore, and she wouldn’t have… but the next person to speak was Miles… and she had made him a promise that no matter what, even if she lied to everybody else, she wouldn’t do so towards him.

“Um… thank you Miles for defending me… I really really am being honest despite what the princess is saying… I can’t read clocks very good and it takes me a while, but… again… that doesn’t mean I didn’t try.” She takes a breath. “I was checking the clocks most the night and doing my best to read them cause I wanted to get better at it, so I… think I have a pretty good understanding of what time I… I left.” She takes a breath, looking him in the eyes, a little smile now. “Ah but… I guess I should answer your question. 11 wasn’t a mistake, it was just a lie, I didn’t get back to the room until 11:35. That’s the truth for you Miles, l’ll also confess that I really didn’t check out the swords or the gun, both of those were Francis… I know because I saw her do it, watched her even.”

She took a deep breath. She decided for the sake of the the trial ignoring Theophania was for the best, everything she had said was wrong anyways, and she could dispute it by simply acknowledging the claims that others had made. With a somewhat empty expression, though still smiling, 19 continues.

“Bian is actually pretty spot on… it’s really impressive really how you got that idea since I didn’t think there was any way to figure that out… but yeah, Francis came to me while I was in the Training Room and asked me to help with her trap. But… can you all stop assuming I’m some cold hearted killer that jumped at the opportunity for murder? That like,isn’t the case… I didn’t catch Francis off guard or turn her trap on her or do anything like that… I didn’t even know the trap was supposed to be used to kill somebody until… it was too late.”

She was shaking a little, holding her arms across her waist, despite addressing so many others' claims, her gaze was mostly fixed on Miles, he was the only person she really wanted to explain herself to. She was close with others, she appreciated Manami’s defences, but he was the one she confided in during the investigation.

“I… she told me she wanted to practice making traps for fighting monsters… she said that we were gonna build one in the practice dungeon and lure some slimes into it… that was what I thought we were doing until the very end… I helped her build it and set it up, I climbed up and tied the vine around the crevices and weakened the bigger vine… Francis mostly just helped with direction…” She looks to the side. “Even if the trap was built by her though, in the end it had to be like um… triggered by somebody… by me.”

She seemed like she was on the verge of tears but she resisted that urge, it wasn’t very pretty to cry right now.

“Francis told me she was going to go chase a slime around the corner, to get ready to pull the vine and set the trap off at the next sign of movement around the turn… I don’t… I don’t know why she rushed around the turn instead… I just reacted, just like she asked me to… and well… the trap worked.”

She pouts a little bit, sinking in on herself as she says this, a cold look to the ground as she admits to her own stupidity. She tightens the grip she had around her stomach as she forces herself to continue.

“I… I tried to save her… I pulled the swords out thinking it’d help but she just bled more and more… it made it so much worse… so I just ran away…” A pause. “After I had time to clear my head a little, I realized she had… tricked me… that she had probably planned to lure somebody into the trap, where I would have reacted like I did, and she would have finished them off with the gun so she got the credit for it… and if all else failed well… I guess she could have just shot me.”

She takes a soft breath, finally looking back up, her eyes meeting with the gaze of those around her before she finally looks at Miles again. A pathetic expression on her face as she tilts her head and lets out a little laugh.

“Man I really am dumb aren’t I? I like, super should have realized I was being used huh?”  She sighs. “Well it doesn’t really matter now… I killed Francis… even if I didn’t mean to.”