#go pursue your siblings in rage my boy

[patch-ov-rosez]

Thinking about Cal's fire magic tbh. I think if he got mad enough he could literally just combust and go rage mode for a bit There isn't really a physical body ? just Fire. If you were to like, extinguish him... he would probably collapse back in his normal form like "i'm too tired for this shit all of a sudden."

TIO, though it doesn't happen in my au, would probably be very similar! But also worse and much more powerful. The other Heroes miiiight have forms of their own like this. But they have different elements

[fatescrosscd]

Daemon's naked ambition had long been a source of anxiety for Rhaella. The way he relentlessly pursued any notion of a challenge to Targaryen power, one would think he was the heir to the Iron Throne instead of his wife. Rhaenyra's leniency toward such behaviour, even as it undermined her own authority, instilled little confidence that anything would change once she was crowned. Truth be told, she feared what might happen should her father become the power behind the Iron Throne.

"The Gods were kind enough to give me my grandsire, for a time." She smiled fondly, though her eyes were mournful. "The late Lord Gylland allowed my mother to raise me at Giantsfall, and oversaw my upbringing as diligently as if I had been a trueborn granddaughter. He was my father, in every way that mattered." Even after four years she missed him; missed the Vale. Missed the life she once had.

Training with the spear was one of the few ways she could still feel like a Gylland rather than a Dragonseed, if only for a few minutes. It seemed that Aemond found a similar comfort in the activity. "I cannot fault your preference for the sword, highness. I can handle a blade well enough, but my size puts me at something of a disadvantage in close combat against most opponents. I have had to work to adapt for the imbalance." Despite her skill, Rhaella knew her weaknesses and admitted to them; her grandfather had once said that was the mark of a true warrior. "Ser Corbyn is suited enough as Master-at-arms, and dedicated to teaching the Princes. The boys have progressed fairly under his tutelage, and Jacaerys has become a proficient swordsman as befits his rank." Proficient, but hardly anything remarkable, in her opinion. "But Ser Corbyn is no Ser Criston Cole - you are fortunate, to have been taught by him."

She knew little of what had occured between Ser Criston and Princess Rhaenyra; only that something had occured, and that the name of Queen Alicent's sworn protector was as good as a curse to her Father. Still, his reputation as a warrior was undeniable.

"I agree that merely being wife to a Lord or King is a poor consolation, but it does guarantee them some power and security in the years to come." Which was more than she could say of her own future. "I'm sure my sisters would be grateful to hear you speak so highly of them after so many years." She nodded attentively as Aemond spoke of his own siblings. "I'm told that Princess Helaena recently delivered twins - a boy and a girl, if I remember correctly."

Not that she could easily forget the rage Daemon flew into when the news of the birth reached Dragonstone. Rhaella had never seen the true depth of his contempt for the Queen and her family until she heard him seething venom that with a single birth, 'the whelp of that Hightower whore has gotten himself an heir and a womb to marry it to'. Her effort at a pleasant smile was still there, but tightened at the memory. "If I am given the opportunity, I should like to congratulate her for such a grueling feat." She spoke truthfully - the few times she had seen Princess Helaena, she had seemed to be a gentle, if reclusive, young woman. To go through the horrors of childbirth at only a few years older than Rhaella must have been terrifying.

"Survival is what I am best at, your highness."

'His pride will be his downfall'

"On that much we agree. It will doom us all, if we are not careful." She admitted softly. Rhaella had never been so open with her feelings toward her father before - but if anyone could understand her situation, it would be the prince who had suffered a lifelong injury for the sake of 'preserving' the Targaryen line. "It seems that fathers are a frequent disappointment in this family. As for beheading--" her smile widened to a sardonic tilt of the mouth, "I cannot say exactly what would cause it, but I shall inform you immediately if such an occasion arises."

Rhaella was not violent by nature, but there were times when her anger got the better of her. She hated the person she became in those moments.

Despite her musings, she did not miss how Aemond's gaze traversed the weapons the way an artisan might look upon his tools. This opportunity to learn more of the infamous Aemond One-Eye was too intriguing to pass up. "Training was my intention," She confirmed. "I was taught to use a spear almost as soon as I was tall enough to hold one, at my grandfather's insistence. A family tradition, I suppose." Rhaella shrugged a braid of dark red hair from her shoulder. "The Master-at-Arms on Dragonstone has always favored a sword however, and I expect I'm sorely out of practice with only him and the young princes for opponents." The tacit invitation lingered in the air. She wanted to get the measure of this man and see if he was truly as good as they said. That, and she was desperate for a real challenge.

In the name of diplomacy, she ignored whatever slanders he voiced against Rhaenyra and Lucerys, and the way she rankled at hearing her mother described as just another place for Daemon to 'wet his cock.' Instead, she tried to focus on the positives to be found in the exchange. . .

Her sisters! There, at least, was a subject she felt no fear for being honest. Her grin was open and affectionate. "Baela is fierce, and intelligent. Rhaena is just as clever, with a sweetness that is quite disarming ; I am proud to call them my sisters. Both will make fine liege ladies, I am certain." Legitimacy aside, he was right - Baela was the eldest child of the eldest child - Driftmark should have been hers from birth. "I understand you have three siblings of your own? I haven't yet had the privilege to speak with them."

His droll apology earned another laugh. "You are forgiven - barely." She teased. "I daresay I would not have survived a week amongst the Targaryens had timidity been a weakness. Any confidence is a practiced facade, I assure you."

[bestdadkars]

Wait so if you have requests open can I request a Dom Gyro x shy fem reader who hasn't even had their first kiss sense they aren't all that well liked, maybe Diego or johnny could be over protective brothers or whatever:P

school kicks my ass but i live long enough to type this out

gyro x johnny and diego's sibling

»»————-　♡　————-««

with johnny

johnny is gonna have the least amount of reservations over the relationship, obviously due to him already knowing gyro pretty well

being a somewhat honorable man, gyro definitely came to johnny before he decided to seriously pursue your affections, kinda asking for his blessings to make sure he doesn’t get pummeled by tusk later on 

despite this he’s very well aware of how flirty and coy gyro is, so he’ll keep reminding you to not look at him through rose-colored glasses and whatnot

i imagine gyro to be the kind who likes to give gifts during a relationship, like jewelry if you wear it or taking you out to eat; johnny might become a little skeptical of it depending on the frequency the gifts come in. as much as he trusts gyro the pessimistic part of him is afraid of you possibly being manipulated or led on, and he’ll talk to you about it if its really on his mind

naturally being your older brother he’s a good mix of overprotective and teasing, and he’ll poke fun at you if you happen to come home trying to hide a hickey or bringing another present to your room

overall he’s happy to see you and gyro together; even johnny’s cynical self would be over the moon to see his two favorite people getting along so well

with diego

ooooooh boy both you have to be ready to fight tooth and nail for diego to even be 1% comfortable with you guys spending time together

between their very obvious and strong rivalry diego’s sense of pride also extends to his attitude towards you, so he’s gonna go on monologues on how you could find someone better, gryo’s [censored] and a [censored] and so much more

there’s two ways this could go: 1. if you’re a bit more on the emotional side, i recommend turning on the waterworks. diego’s an ass but if something is important enough that his younger sibling is crying about it, he’ll be more open and receptive to what you have to say

2. propose the relationship like a ted talk: a lot better than arguing over it, which would solidify his ‘this is never gonna happen’ stance, so it’ll work out in your favor to just voice your feelings in a solid way. diego won’t suddenly be helping to plan you and gyro’s wedding, but at the very least the first date will happen now

remind gyro to be on his very best behavior when diego is around, if he tries to extend your curfew at all, he’s just gonna get rocks shot at him 

it’ll take long enough but eventually he’ll get to the point where you and gyro staying out later won’t instantly send him into a rage or want to strangle your boyfriend any chance he’s exposed, but at the end of the day diego is just very protective and wants to see you happy :)

[sokkagatekeeper]

what do you mean when you say that zuko is a pessimistic idealist and sokka is a pessimistic realist? i love your analyses and i’d love to hear more of your thoughts on that!!! (also love how you say sokka and zuko are perfect for each other because they’re both grumps lol)

i do not remember saying that however it does sound like something i would say lmao. i think what i (would) mean with the statement “zuko is a pessimistic idealist” is that he grew up... idk if unappreciated is the exact word, but in the militaristic hypermasculine society that valued traits that he did not have in comparison to azula, zuko was always at a disadvantage and he had to run for it, sometimes make rash decisions as they were the better/only decisions he could make at all in order to be appreciated and most times it did not pay off which resulted in the entire mess that is zuko’s personality. for all of this, zuko has a tendency to see the worst part of the situation he’s in (coming to mind atm ‘it blew up in my face — like everything always does!’ ‘this city is a prison’ more or less?), so in other words he’s grumpy and kinda sour as hell, all the time.

but at the same time, zuko has a certain... idea of the world, a kind and caring heart, a strong sense of justice, an overall vision for a world that’s good. when zuko comes to understand the fire nation is actually actively pushing back this vision, and he practically immediately turns away from its ideals and pursues a philosophy and a group that actually fit his ideas of what’s better for the world. zuko spent three years at sea looking for a myth, in hopes that finding it would finally put an end to his suffering, making him and katara the only people in the world who truly believed the avatar was still out there. zuko is always expecting everything to blow up in his face like it often did throughout his childhood, and he sees the worst part of the situation before anything else but he always pushes back to make it better, or to what he believes would be making it better.

my favorite example of this is during the blue spirit after zuko finds out zhao got the avatar before him, and he gives iroh a speech about how all hope is lost for him and he will never ever have love honor or happiness ever again, and about five hours later he’s behind a theatre mask with two swords against the world rescuing the avatar just so he can capture this avatar himself in the future, while also letting him go afterwards because it’s not honorable to take him in the easy manner he could take him at that precise moment(???) and that was just nuts. therefore pessimistic idealist.

on the other hand there’s sokka.

sokka is a pessimist through and through, a serial complainer, a paranoid neurotic strategist. sokka grew up in disadvantage to the rest of the world and overshadowed by a his little sister — not because katara was a bender and sokka was not, but because katara was the last bender they had left. i’ve talked about this before but basically it’s no wonder katara is a solid optimistic idealist with all the hope and faith and determination in the world while sokka is a pessimistic realist and pragmatic depressed cynical bastard. presumably his village but also sokka put himself at disadvantage. it is safe to assume sokka sacrificed his own uhh. hope? naivetè? innocence? for katara to keep hers and in order to protect her better — after all katara is the last southern waterbender, their collective hero, and you can’t have a hero with no hope, you can’t have a dead hero. and also sokka is an eldest sibling, it’s instinctual.

now don’t get me wrong, sokka has a huge heart full of love and devotion and wonder. he is an inventor, an artist, a scientist. sokka is filled with ideas, but he is always waiting for the lowest blow, he is always waiting for a disaster to happen (and with a good reason!). sokka believes optimists are liars, he thinks destiny and fate is more or less bullshit, he has a pragmatic and careful approach to almost every situation he’s presented with and even though he has a clear sense of morality, he is willing to make certain sacrifices as are the demands of war – where zuko is willing to save zhao without hesitation, who tried to kill him multiple times and whom he had been fighting not one minute ago, for example.

sokka wants the world to be a better place, and at the same time he has little trouble turning away from people who aren’t in any immediate danger even if they are suffering because he has more pressing matters at hand (the painted lady), he obviously would want the avatar to come back and save them, but aang being a complete stranger signaling to a fire nation ship is most definitely a valid justification for sokka to banish him (the boy in the iceberg/the avatar returns i don't remember lol). among many many many other situations in which sokka is technically right, even if it doesn’t fit other characters’ idealistic views or it doesn’t make for a good story, sokka is the realist they all need in order to survive.

also i admit ‘perfect for each other’ can be kind of a stretch and i believe that it being because they’re both grumpy is kinda reductive since that can also be the basis of mai and zuko’s relationship and we all know what i think of those two aksjaks (this is NOT mai slander. # mai deserves better 2k21). however i do think sokka and zuko fit together because they have different types of emotional constipation and they actively push each other to be more balanced in order to reach to the other. sokka wants to believe deep down, and the fact that he is in a story even if he doesn’t really believe it plays its cards sometimes which translates into the universe’s obsession with sokka, and zuko is destiny fan #1 so he can give sokka an overemotional speech once in a while that sokka will ruthlessly dismiss and dismantle verbally but that at the same time will warm his heart and help him loosen up on his scheduled cerebral to a default existence on the long-run; zuko needs grounding once in a while which he usually got from iroh or at the very least iroh made an attempt to get through him, and sokka is intellectually crude enough to give zuko a reality check while making himself understood and because of their shared wavelength he can do this without crushing all of zuko’s hopes and dreams in the process.

they are also two eldest siblings one with depression the other filled with rage and they are the only real ‘pessimists’ in the gaang, so while yes, zuko will take action to solve problems he will also complain about it forever more and he can do that with sokka. together they can yell at god, complain about jocks, complain about prescriptivists, bond over their very niche taste in art that nobody ever understands, and absolutely tear apart everything that doesn’t fit their competence standard (it’s a very high fucking standard, those are two grumpy neurodivergent people) among many other grump-activities that seem to make them miserable but that actually serve both of them to validate their annoyed kind of love for the world and it makes both of them really happy :)

[dastardlydandelion]

medium luci

ao3 link

content warnings: homophobia, comphet, child abuse, abusive relationships

It’s rare that Susan and Neil have the same weekday off. Neil typically works five days a week and she three or four, depending who’s on staff, being that she’s only part-time. But he’d had a dentist appointment midmorning so he’d taken today off and decided to make his hours up by volunteering for a double next week.

Susan doesn’t typically care to spend any extra time alone with her husband. They have so little to talk about these days, now that he doesn’t try to butter her up or feed her honey sweet lies as much as he used to. Now that Neil doesn’t care to talk much at all unless ranting or complaining about the various things he doesn’t like, his son’s style of dress, women who sit with their legs open, cab drivers who don’t speak English. Susan doesn’t even remember the last time Neil had to take a cab but he has strong opinions on them nonetheless, and the list goes on and on.

He thankfully hasn’t done much of that today, however. He’d parked himself in front of the television after coming home from his appointment and simply nodded when Susan announced she was going out to garden. She only comes inside when she hears the phone ring and by the time she’s walking up the back steps, Neil’s already answered it.

She watches his expression change as he converses with whomever’s on the other end, nervousness fluttering in her chest as his eyes widen, then harden.

“I’ll be right there,” Neil concludes as he hangs up, turning those hard eyes onto Susan. “That was the school.”

“Oh dear…what’s Billy done this time?”

“Not Billy.” Neil shakes his head and Susan’s heart drops with the realization her husband isn’t just irritated but seething, knuckles blanched as his hands ball into tight fists. “Maxine. Did you know the Sinclairs have a girl around her age?”

“N-No, I didn’t. I’m not very familiar with them, Neil.” Susan never had much luck getting close to anyone anymore, not in the least because of Neil himself.

“Apparently Maxine is,” he declares icily. “A teacher caught her and the Sinclair girl fornicating under the bleachers.”

Susan’s heart turns to stone and sinks into her stomach.

No.

Please, no.

Neil has very strong opinions about sexuality in general and homosexual conduct in particular, and Susan can practically feel the outrage radiating from him. It crackles in the air like the promise of a lightning storm. Neil’s fists are still clenched and his posture goes taut like it always does before he explodes.

“W-Well,” Susan begins, swallowing past the lump in her throat.

She hates herself for what she is going to say. She says it anyway.

“Well, you know where she learned that kind of b-behavior from, don’t you?”

Because if Neil is going to explode, Susan can’t stop him. But she hopes she can at least encourage the worst of it away from Max. She watches Neil’s eyes flicker and knows they’re both remembering the day they came home early from the short vacation they’d taken for their fifth anniversary, a girl and a boy sneaking out of Billy’s bedroom window, neither particularly clothed. She watches the angry bulge of the vein pulsing in his neck and knows they’re both thinking of that short young fellow with the skateboard who worked at the used car lot during the day and spent his time with Billy during the night.

“Yes, I know exactly where she learned it from. I’m picking both of them up and we’re all going to have a family discussion.”

“I should come with you.”

“No.” Neil holds up his hand. “Stay here, Susan. We’ll be back soon enough.”

Neil has gun powder in his gaze and she dares not argue. She lowers her head and steps aside when he walks past to fetch the truck keys from the hook. He stomps down the steps and slams the backdoor shut behind him.

Susan watches through the window as he gets into the truck and pulls out of the driveway, feeling dreadfully ill. She doesn’t mean what she’d said, of course. There are a number of behaviors that Max has picked up from Billy, but that isn’t one of them. If anyone is to blame, Susan supposes it’s herself for passing it along intrinsically.

She has her own secret desires locked away within the chambers of her heart. Desire she dares not confront for her own sanity, for her own safety. She’s never acted on her wants, always chose to play private games of hide and seek with them in her head instead, those insidiously innocent wishes of hers. Never spoken aloud let alone pursued those urges that flush hot beneath her skin when she finds her eyes drawn to other women’s lips, hips, breasts.  

Susan gave it to Max and unlike her, Max is brash and bold and brave. God save her, Max does what she wants to do and doesn’t care what other people think. Susan would admire her for it if it didn’t scare her to death.

Because Neil does care what other people think. He cares very much. And Susan’s seen him annoyed with Max in the past. She’s seen him frustrated with Max, displeased, exasperated. But never has she seen the silent stirring of a reign of rage to come where Max is concerned, never has she known that particular look in Neil’s eye to be directed Max’s way. She can only hope—

Oh, it’s such a despicable thing to hope for. Susan has poison in her soul, she swears she must. But Billy isn’t remotely hers and Max very much is.

* * * 

Susan doesn’t know if it was actually her remark that spurred Neil to turn the blame on Billy or if this was the conclusion he would’ve come to anyway. Neil often blames Max’s mishaps and mischiefs on Billy. Billy being the older sibling meant to lead by example. Billy being the older brother, meant to keep his younger sister out of trouble to begin with.

Her remark or Neil’s default thought process, in any case, it’s Billy he’s glaring at in the living room. Angrily dictates that Billy take off his shirt, belt in hand. Susan grabs a very pale Max’s shoulders and begins to usher her down the hall.

“Where are you taking Maxine?”

Susan freezes, mouth going dry.

Neil’s looking their way now, brow arched, stern and skeptical.

“I-I—“

“She isn’t going to learn if she doesn’t watch, Susan,” he declares with no room for argument. “Bring her back.”

Susan swallows, hands tightening on Max’s shoulders. Something dies inside her when she turns her daughter around. She buries it silently as she’s buried so many other pieces before and avoids Max’s eyes boring into her as she marches her back to the living room. Neil motions for them to sit on the couch, sunlight glinting off the metal buckle. Billy doesn’t bother to disguise his disdain, glaring murder, nostrils flaring like an ornery bovine. Susan suspects he’ll pay for this too.

“Your behavior today was beyond inappropriate, Maxine,” Neil tells her coldly. “Unnatural, disgusting, absolutely unacceptable.”

Max squirms next to Susan, hands tucking under her thighs. She is stone faced but this close, Susan can feel her shaking.

“Now, I know it’s not all your fault. Big Brother here’s taught you—“

“I didn’t teach her shit!” Billy cuts him off, sharp and acidic. “I told her to steer clear from Sinclair, this isn’t on me!”

Neil punches his son in the stomach with all the affect of swatting a fly, once, twice. Susan flinches. Billy’s gasping, breath knocked out of him. He staggers and Neil viciously shoves him to the floor.

“She saw you with that faggot’s tongue down your throat, don’t think I don’t know! I know you, I know the kind of shit you think you can get away with behind my back!” Neil roars like thunder. “Well, now it’s my turn to teach her a thing or two! Pay attention, Maxine!”

Max stiffens beside her. She opens her mouth to protest and Susan grabs her arm, sinking her nails in. Startled, Max's eyes dart to her. Susan gives a tiny shake of the head, urging her not to speak. Max bends her elbow like a chicken wing and jerks her arm out of Susan’s grasp. Ire flares in her gaze but she holds her tongue. She does not challenge Neil as he begins beating Billy with the belt.

Susan can’t watch. She lowers her eyes to the floor. She can see the movement in the shadows, Neil’s rapid whipping of the improvised weapon and Billy’s form jolting with the blows. Susan shuts her eyes to the shadows but she can still hear it, thick, hard leather striking bare flesh.

“Don’t turn away, Maxine,” Neil barks at some point between the sounds of violence.

Billy doesn’t cry out. Eventually it’s over. Susan raises her head and cannot bear more than a glance at her stepson braced on his hands and knee. The belt now rests at Neil’s side and still, her stomach is churning.

“If there is ever a repeat of the conduct you displayed today, there will be consequences. Is that understood, Maxine?”

Max looks to Susan. Her eyes are wavering. Then they glean whatever it is they were searching for from Susan’s and harden.

“Yes,” she mumbles.

“Yes, what?”

Max clears her throat.

“Yes, sir,” she corrects, louder and clearer.

“Both of you to your rooms,” he commands. “I want both of you to reflect on your actions until it’s time for dinner.”

“Yes, sir,” Billy answers this time, climbing to his feet in the corner of Susan’s eye. She remains on the couch as her daughter rises and plods down the hall, cheeks as red as the cherry atop a sundae. Flushed as red as the welts on Billy’s back that have Susan’s stomach in ropes even though she only spares a brief glance.

Neil sets the belt aside and plops down in his armchair. “Can you get me a beer, Susan?”

She nods and rises, quietly fetching one. Pops the tab and then passes it to him before she excuses herself. In times like this, Susan wants to leave more than anything. She wants to grab Max and take her far, far away. But she can’t imagine they would get anywhere, truly.

Neil controls the finances. Susan makes less money than he does and every cent she does earn inevitably winds up under Neil’s attentive purview. In a distant, ostensible kind of way Susan understands there are shelters for women in her situation. Shelters out there, somewhere…aren’t there? For her situation?

Neil hasn’t actually put his hands on her. Not yet. Not like what he just did to Billy. Hasn’t actually done so to Max, although the threat of that unfolded in the living room in a way that could not be more crystal clear. The threat alone feels like a fist to Susan, invisible fist clenched tight around her insides and squeezing so hard she's nauseous.  

Is the threat enough? Would Susan and Max be accepted on the basis of threats alone?

Provided she could ever find such a place to begin with. Susan doesn’t have the faintest clue of where to look for what feels more like a nebulous fantasy of a sanctuary than a tangible reality. A shimmering oasis in the desert. Even if she were to locate such a place, what if it were at full capacity?

What if she and Max got turned away?

That would mean choosing between being homeless or going back to Neil. Going back to Neil after a failed escape would certainly mean him making good on all those threats of his, the ones verbal and non. The examples explicit in his words and implicit in his actions. Above all, any failed escape would certainly ensure there would be no second escape.

Susan isn’t going anywhere. And neither is Max. The very notion is abstract and distorted, floating just out of reach in a gaussian blur of a wish. Their home isn’t a good home. But it is the home they have and so, Susan will simply have to do her best to make sure Max never does anything like this again. That Max never does anything to get Neil’s attention like that, nothing to stoke the coals always smoldering in his choleric soul. That as painful as it's sure to be, Max learns to keep certain parts of herself under lock and key.

When dinner is in the oven and Neil is engrossed in his program, Susan slips off to Max’s bedroom. She knocks quietly and lets herself in. Her throat knots up at the tear tracks on her daughter’s cheeks, far more gutting than the way she bristles as Susan steps closer, the sheer hurt in her eyes.

“What do you want?”

The same things as you, Susan thinks irresistibly. And I’d go after them too, if I didn’t know better.

“I’m sorry, Max.”

Max huffs and turns away. “Whatever.”

“I am.”

“No you’re not. You’re just like Neil, you think I’m disgusting,” Max spits, hiking her legs up on the bed and hugging her knees to her chest. “You think Billy’s disgusting too, you couldn’t even look at him.”

“No, I don’t…oh, Max.” Susan swallows and lowers herself to a sit beside her on the bed, gently placing a hand on her knee. She swallows her heartbreak when Max’s eyes flash as though the touch scalds her. “Neil and I disagree about many things. This is one of them.”

“Then why didn’t you say that?” The blaze in Max’s eyes dies down, voice softening to cinders. “Why didn’t you stop him?”

“Oh, he’s so much bigger than me, Max.” Susan sags with familiar defeat. “And I— I don’t think it’s wrong, you and this girl.”

“Lucy.”

“I’m sure Lucy is lovely,” leaves Susan’s lips, this fragile whisper she dares not tempt fate to speak above. “I could never think that you’re disgusting. But I’m just me, Max, and Neil is bigger, and the world…the world too, is so much bigger than I am. You can’t— never, ever in public.”

Max’s eyes widen. Susan shifts on the bed and moves her hands, finds both of Max’s and squeezes tight.

“You cannot be open with feelings like that. You can’t take girls to your school dances, you can’t kiss them where other people could see.”

Max lets out an angry growl even as her eyes well up.

“It’s not fair!”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“That’s not good enough!”

“I know.” She knows, oh, she knows, she’s never not choking on it.

Max chews her lip, scarlet and fuming. Susan halfway expects her daughter to headbutt her or holler right in her ear until she deafens. But after a moment it’s almost as if Max can decode all the things she cannot say because her hands twist under Susan’s and intertwine their fingers.

[sunriseseance]

i really liked your analysis on Fanon! Klaus and Fanon! Ben, i’d love to hear your thoughts on the fanon versions of the other tua characters if you have any

BOY DO I

Luther: in canon, a failure of a leader due to his loyalty and indecisiveness. His entire life has told him he has to be This Thing that he simply is not capable of, and moreover that's WHY Reg chose Luther for leadership. He is at his core a sweetheart, but makes some bad, violent choices because he was raised to be violent by a bad man. He's also stupid as hell and a COMPLETE dork. "I'm just gonna sit here, finish my beer, and get my... Buzz on." HELLO??? How can you not be charmed by that??? Also he is very autism coded AND he's disfigured and disabled.

In fanon he is not someone trying his best and failing, he's actively malicious and cruel. He's portrayed as stubborn, deliberately evil, and conniving. I've seen people portray him as homophobic, or racist, or both. I think this comes from am inherent desire for non-complexity. If Klaus and Vanya are pure good, then the people they clash with must be pure evil, right? I also think this is tied to his autism coding and his disfigurement and disability.

Diego: In canon, Diego is so fucking weird and dorky and ridiculous. He desperately portrays this badass Batman figure that is just rage and edge and coolness. But he… Isn't cool. He's also not that, like, smart? His plans consist of Jump Through Door and hope for the best. HOWEVER this act is to cover the beautiful, sweet, kind soul that lives underneath. He cares SO MUCH about EVERYTHING he is absolutely soaked in love. He cries all the time, she shares exactly how he's feeling whenever possible. He gets arrested to make sure Allison can go rescue Vanya.

In fanon, he's just… Sort of a nothing. He cares about Klaus in a pretty bot-like way, rescuing him and chastising him and letting him sleep on the bed while Diego takes the couch. He's exasperated and mature and cold. He's a good leader and a badass vigilante. I find this one annoying, because Diego shouldn't exist for a white character, but also sorta funny cause this is how Diego wants to be seen. He doesn't fool anyone else, but he's fooled fandom.

Allison: in canon, Allison is tirelessly, graciously trying to be a better person while drowning in guilt. She is light whenever she can be, she checks in on people, she seeks unity and communication and sharing, she is always apologizing and learning and growing. She is sweet, and often silly (chocolate! Covered! Raisins!), and smart, and humble, and charismatic. She has a MASSIVE tendency to go way too far, to pursue things until she can't anymore and then pursue further. She is not good at giving space or time because she is focused on making things better, now. She is a hero, and a good person, and an excellent character.

In fanon, when she exists at all, she's literally unrecognizable. She's manipulative, and jealous, and catty, and cruel, and egotistical. She never apologizes, she hurts people on purpose. She refuses to take accountability. This is FUCKING BUCK WILD for a character DEFINED by her guilt. This is racism. It's making the Black woman evil so that it isn't bad when other people aren't good to her. It's making it so that Vanya slashing her throat and calling her names and digging into her guilt deliberately is a Fine Action, Actually. It's fucked up.

I've talked about Klaus, Five, and Ben elsewhere, so I'm gonna just move on to Vanya

Vanya: in canon, Vanya is caring, and smart, and outspoken but shy, and interesting. She is checking in on people, and defending her points, and living her life. She has chocolate colored raisins on her counter. She is also, though, flawed. She has a weird superiority-inferiority complex where she thinks she KNOWS she's as good as, if not better than, the others, but she knows nobody will believe her, and it drives her bananas. She often interprets situations in ways that make her the victim when she… Just isn't, like when Allison refuses to say that Vanya shouldn't have come down when she heard gunfire. This is due to a lifetime of being forgotten, and it feels natural and elegantly written. This also isn't to say she's NEVER a victim, because she often is! The sibs fuck up a lot w her and hurt her. Reginald stole YEARS of her life from her. Also Leonard.

In fanon, she just… Is that victim. She is perfect and being hurt by evil people for no reason. She is constantly suffering real blows, and then getting apologized to, and fawned over. Every narrative she believes about herself is true. The book was fine, and the siblings all apologize to her for how Mean they were. She really was being left out in s1e6/7. It's bizarre. Vanya is a much more interesting character, to me, if she is sometimes hurting for real, and some times wallowing in a learned hurt, and so lonely and unaccustomed to feeling that she can't really tell the difference. It's not just the others that push Vanya to breaking point, it's Vanya herself, too. It's a disservice not just to Vanya, but to EVERYONE, to ignore her flaws in my opinion (this is true of all of them).

[mrsgreenworld]

Son Yaz Season 2, Episode 22

"Adaletin Bu Mu Dünya" ("Is This the World of Justice?") aka Barren Land

So a new season came in like a wrecking ball. I've missed watching something that gets this level of emotional response from me. That's the beauty of this show - it played on my emotional strings from the very start. It is a different type of show now, however. In season 1 Son Yaz was pretty much a show about family, with all the mafia stuff being just a background noise. It may have seemed that it was Akgün's story and his found family. And in a way it was. But it was never just Akgün's story. It's the story of the Kara family as much as it was Akgün's. This estranged family comes together when this hurt and abandoned kid lands in their lives. The gift of family and love was something that Akgün not only got but also gave in return. That's why in season 1 intro we saw the blurry image of the Kara family, all four of them, and Akgün who was standing a bit to the side, like an outsider. And he was, at the beginning. Throughout the season we saw him close this distance, both literally and figuratively.

If we look at season 2 intro, it is something else entirely. The intro music theme is still the same but it's a reworked version, it sounds lower and more intense. The blurry image of this new intro is of Selim and Akgün, just the two of them, standing next to each other, at the dusk of the day. And I feel that's what this season is going to be about - the story of these two men and either their redemption or their further downfall.

But there is another pillar the story lies upon - Yağmur. These three are going to be the focus of this review. Let's get down to it.

Yağmur

I've decided to discuss Yağmur first because she's the first one we see three years later. I also believe that she's the one who had the strongest connection with Canan. Sure Canan was loved just as much by Altay, she was and always will be the love of Selim's life. But there's usually one person among our loved ones who we share a very special connection with. And I believe that for Canan that person was Yağmur and vice versa. That's why Yağmur is the one keeping Canan's memory alive. She dresses similarly, she keeps the key to the restaurant (that's named after Canan) under a flower pot which looks remarkably similar to the one in Çeşme. I even suspect it's the same pot. Yağmur has flowers in the restaurant that she takes care of first thing in the morning. In season 1 there were scenes of Canan watering the flowers.

It might look as if Yağmur has everything under control. She seems put together, almost like her old self. But it is the calm before the storm. It only lasts as long as she doesn't stop. Yağmur said it herself: if she stops, she'll start thinking about what happened, she'll have to face it and just the possibility is making her lose her mind. But this madness won't just go away, it's brewing just beneath the surface and it showed its face in the scene where Yağmur finally saw Akgün. She was absolutely unhinged. It's like after having been in denial for three years she was catapulted into anger within the first seconds of seeing him. That's the sort of maddening rage that stems from denying yourself a chance to grieve and truly experience loss. Yağmur's drawn-out denial is going to take its toll. She's clearly suffering from PTSD and from a glimpse of her in episode 23 fragman it's clear that it's starting to affect her physically.

I don't know what the writers have in store for Yağmur but right now it seems to me that she will have to go through all of the stages of grief and in the end find acceptance and peace.

Selim

And next we see Selim who lives alone in a secluded house in Rize. He walked away from his children and his old life. He left behind his vocation. He's no longer a prosecutor. I find it interesting that Selim repeated it several times throughout the episode: "I'm not a prosecutor". We saw in season 1 how much Selim's job meant to him, how something that he had initially pursued just to be closer to Canan had become his calling and a part of him. And now with Canan gone it's like that part of Selim is gone too. Or maybe he just killed that part of himself when he took his revenge on Halil Sadi. And the way it happened is the reason why Selim decided to stay away from his children. It was gruesome and savage and Selim understood clearly how that would taint a person. That's why he tried to convince Akgün to leave him alone to take care of it and that's exactly why he kept his distance from Yağmur and Altay so as not to taint them with his darkness. Selim owns his darkness and his sins. Selim Kara is not a good man. And he knows it. Now that I think about it, he was never a good person. Back in season 1 we saw what a shitty husband and father he was. Yes, they tried to redeem him and give him a second chance. He took this chance and, I think, he really tried to be the kind of a man who deserved his family. But the bitter truth is that he never deserved Canan or his children. And I think that Selim is painfully aware of this. That's why I'm not angry with him for leaving Yağmur and Altay. I don't love or even like him but I understand him. I'm also not angry that he involved Akgün into that nightmare. Selim gave Akgün an out, in the end it was Akgün's choice to stay. I'm definitely not gonna blame Selim for the choices Akgün made.

I've already mentioned that this season can turn into either a redemption story or even further downfall for both Selim and Akgün. But I feel that no matter which way Selim chooses to go - up or down - we won't see a happy ending waiting for him. It's clear now what's waiting for him. I believe that if we don't see Selim pulling that trigger again, it will be someone else's bullet that sends him to Canan.

Akgün

Or my sweet, sweet boy... He is a boy no more 😢

Killing his own brother, going to prison, giving up the love of his life, living on the run for three years - all of that took its toll and changed Akgün irrevocably. But most of all it was that horrid night and the choice he made that turned his hopeful and blossoming future into a barren land.

He's always been hot-headed, doing-first-thinking-never. Always ready to sacrifice himself for the ones he loves. And the way he loves is fierce and maybe even a bit suffocating. And all of that hasn't changed. But now Akgün seems torn between being resigned and suicidal. He's resigned when it comes to Yağmur and the future he wanted to have with her. He's suicidal when it comes to saving his father and helping Selim.

I know that it's been pointed out in the show a number of times that Selim and Akgün are very much alike. And it may seem that what they did to Halil Sadi brought them closer together and made them even more similar. While that night definitely tied them together in a very special way that only the two of them will ever be able to comprehend, I also saw how in fact different Selim and Akgün are. And the ultimate difference lies here: Akgün is a good person. I just hope that he'll get a chance to become a good husband and a good father. The kind of a husband and father Selim never was and I don't think could ever be.

A few honourable mentions

🖤 Eray is the sweetest, most precious cupcake on this planet and he makes my heart burst with love and gratitude. He was so loving and affectionate with Akgün. From the way he hugged him and he called him "Canım benim" to the way he sent Akgün updates on Yağmur and how he comforted Akgün after the disastrous reunion.

🖤 I already said while I was live blogging that I really like the siblings role reversal they've got going on. Give me all the bitter moody teenage Altay who also has a picture of himself and Akgün from Canan and Selim's wedding.

🖤 Soner and Naz are cute and all but they're also incredibly dumb. Especially Soner who comes from a mafia family and has to marry a girl from another mafia clan. Her father is a mafia boss who's giving away his only daughter. And to make things even worse Soner had to drop the ILY at the dinner. For fucks sake... Where's your only brain cell? On the run with Akgün?🤦

And... That's pretty much it. I have to stop before it gets completely out of hand. Until next episode. I'm sure we're in for a wild ride.

[nikibogwater]

The Norse Trainwreck: Chapter Three–In which Everything Goes Spectacularly Wrong

Tripe and Gustav were a little more open to getting assistance from me, though I was still forbidden from offering advice (which, y’know what? That’s fair). We got everyone kitted up with Leather Armor and Wooden Shields, and then decided it was time to take on the first boss, Eikthyr (I’d fought him once before in my single-player world, so I was fairly confident in our ability to take him out).

Contrary to what one might expect, everything went remarkably smoothly. Nobody was killed, and Tripe and Gustav now had their own pickaxes so they could stop asking me to break rocks for them. 

Don’t worry, the rest of the play session was an absolute disaster. 

With all three of us ready to fully pursue the Bronze Age, we made preparations to set out for the Black Forest. The one Gustav had discovered earlier turned out to be pitifully tiny and completely devoid of mining deposits, so we (very stupidly) decided to take the raft across the sea to a much bigger forest.

We arrived in one piece (miraculously) and started hunting through some Burial Chambers for Surtling Cores. In case you don’t know, Burial Chambers are absolutely crawling with Skeletons, and those things hit hard and are resistant to Piercing weapons (which, as it turns out, is what all three of us preferred to use).

Fortunately, thanks to my obsessive research and single-player experience, I had enough foresight to carry my Stagbreaker Hammer with me. What I did not have the foresight to do was tell Gustav and Tripe that I had it.

Tripe and Gustav: *desperately trying to fight off a pack of skeletons with nothing but pointy sticks*

Niki: *PULLS A MASSIVE SPIKY HAMMER OUT OF NOWHERE AND CRUSHES ALL OF THEM IN A BLAZE OF PROTECTIVE SISTERLY RAGE*

Tripe and Gustav: 😐😐

Emboldened by the knowledge that I had a means of dealing with Skeletons, Gustav skipped merrily into the next room and immediately had his face bashed in by more Skeletons. As previously stated, we were on the other side of the ocean from home, with our only means of sea transportation parked outside the Burial Chamber. Which meant that if Gustav were to have any hope of getting his items back, Tripe and I would have to carry them for him.

Being the good siblings we are, we each took as much of the load as we could, but we were running short on inventory space all the same and had to leave behind the less valuable items.

Tripe: Okay, we got the important stuff. I don’t think we lost anything that can’t be easily replaced. Gustav: What about me? *Pause* Tripe: ...Easily replaced.  Gustav: HEY! Niki: *WHEEZE!*

Tripe and I ferried Gustav’s items back to him and then, because we’re all painfully slow learners, we turned the boat around and went straight back to the Black Forest. But this time we had a plan of setting up a temporary base with beds in it so that future deaths would be less catastrophic. 

We landed and fought off some Greydwarves. I immediately began working on a temporary base, being the one who was most familiar with the building mechanics. 

A few minutes of peaceful foundation-laying later, Gustav and Tripe alerted me to the fact that they had found a “very cool tower” and that I could “stop building a house, we’re going to live here now.” 

I’m not entirely sure why, but something about using the broken-down abandoned tower as a base seemed…unwise to me. I continued to build the house, but after much peer pressure from the other two, I finally gave up and joined them at the tower. 

I don’t even think I can fully communicate how many things went wrong at this point, so here’s just a rapid-fire list:

The tower wasn’t counting as a shelter because it had no roof and we were unable to build one

There was a Greydwarf spawner not a stone’s throw away and we kept being bombarded by a pack of them every few minutes--Gustav died again

There was a hecking TROLL stomping around about 12 feet away and what with trying to fend off all of the Greydwarves, none of us were in a good place to fight it

The expedition came to a very inglorious end when Tripe and I turned tail and sprinted back to the raft without even bothering to pick up Gustav’s items (again).

We arrived home, very subdued, and collapsed into our beds. Gustav had to sleep in his underwear because we hadn’t saved his armor. 

At this point, yours truly was in desperate need of some supper, so I left the boys to sort themselves out for a while. When I came back, Gustav had retrieved his items yet again and the plan to expand across the ocean had been effectively dropped altogether. 

Tripe was muttering about structural integrity under his breath when I came back, and when I asked what was going on, Gustav answered with “We are building a tower and angering God.” 

Niki: ...Well alright then. 

A moment of silence later and I ventured to say “Listen, I know you guys don’t like it when I give advice, but I think it’d be best if we found a Black Forest that we didn’t have to sail to and set up a base a little ways outside of it.”

Tripe: ...No actually you should give us common sense like that because we’re stupid. Also yeah, that sounds like a better idea. 

To bring this long story to a close, we now have a functioning house set up just outside a Black Forest that we do not have to cross an ocean to reach. Only time will tell if we actually learned anything from this whole experience, or are just doomed to more similar failures. (And by the way, Tripe’s tower project failed and God was not angered. Rip). 

[secretadventuresociety]

Episode 27 Recap

What’s up SASholes?! I’m Bren; resident SAStorian and note-taker extraordinaire. Welcome to Episode 27: Under New Management.

The Xarus Problem

We last left off with Kess staring down her jilted ‘lover’ (I mean, if you can call an arranged husband a lover), Xarus, who had just revealed he now owns her childhood home. Well, I say home. I guess childhood MANSION is technically more correct. Anyway, as this red-headed scum delights in Kess’ confusion, a flock of guards file in behind him all dressed in black; anticipating an attack. True to form, Pearce leans over to Kess and asks if he should shoot him, and she waves him away, blowing the whole thing off as a joke. Turns out that ole Xarus lost his humor in a tragic Born-Without-A-Soul accident, so he stares back flatly and invites the group to dinner; suggesting the trio clean up beforehand.

Kess loudly announces that her mother (Norse), Zev, Kü, and Pearce are going to… help… brush her hair? And Xarus just accepts it?? So the definitely-not-suspect group file up to Kess’ bedroom, led by Norse. The party takes in their spotless lavish surroundings in a mixture of disgust and disbelief-- and then they find their destination. The room might as well be adorned with a neon sign reading ‘Messy Kessy’. The colors inside are dark and earthy, with flora and drawings of fauna littering the walls, lit by a majestic bay window. In an awkward silence, Kü compares the living space to the shit-covered walls of his cavern home, then switches gears to ask if all fathers come with so much tension.

Norse gently explains that Xarus isn’t Kess’ father, but was her husband-to-be, who recently took over the house and the super-secret ‘family business’. Surprise-- Kess’ family is a band of merry Robin Hoods who keep Mardosta eating with silver spoons. Despite being there the whole time— Norse doesn’t quite understand how the boring, ginger-haired square of a man grew the balls to overthrow their reign of thievery; but she momentarily morphs into fantasy Vin Diesel (not actually, I know it’s a little weird ‘cause technically she’s a changeling and very much COULD do that) and tells Kess they can handle it As A Family.

An Iris by Any Other Name

After assuring The Nobodies aren’t going to kill Xarus in his sleep, Mama Shadowmore pulls Kess aside and leads her to the family greenhouse. It smells overwhelmingly like smoke, and as they enter, Kess sees hundreds of her black and white flowers. You know the ones. Norse then tells her how they tried to cover Kess’ absence, the way she would go into the greenhouse to just sit somewhere that smelled like her daughter (OUCH, dude), and all about the first night she saw one of the Irises appear. From that night on, Norse and Kess’ father Arthur would sit and wait for a flower to bloom; knowing somehow it was connected to their daughter’s safety. Now, if you thought your teeth were rotting out from the sweetness already-- that’s when Kess hugs her mom for the first time in years, and sometime during the embrace, Norse drops her high elf facade and embraces her daughter in all her changeling glory before Kess grows a flower just for her. Touching stuff. You crying yet? No? Just me?

Dry those eyes, though, because now we’re on to some shenanigans. As Kess and her mom are off repairing their relationship, Pearce and Kü attempt to make themselves at home. After grabbing a drink with Zev, the pair stake out a guest bedroom with an adjoining bathroom. Pearce ushers Kü inside and offers to guard the door as he showers, which the kobold has CERTAINLY done before. Tons of times. In his underground home. Despite this setback, Kü figures out the tub quickly, but the challenge becomes when he needs to drain the water. He finds a bucket, remembers that the toilet gets rid of its own fluid, and scoops up the grimy bathwater like a scaly Mickey Mouse. But that’s not all. Getting to the bottom of the tub, he notices a chain floating in the dregs and hauls out a crowbar to liberate it.

Pearce, hearing a sudden thump and fearing a sneak attack, manhandles his way into the bathroom and finds a wet Kü who laments about the ‘necklace’ at the bottom of the tub. The gunslinger quickly realizes it’s a chain for the drain (heh, a rhyme) and shoves Kü out. He then takes a pile of Zev’s clothes he found and dresses, appalled at the deep-v tunic and skin tight leather pants he is now sporting. Being his only choice, he chastely covers his bare chest and spikes his hair, coming out of the bathroom to help Kü shine his helmet. Yes, that helmet. Pearce is making Mother’s skull GLEAM. Kess, after realizing she could just change her form in lieu of ACTUALLY bathing, brings Kü a long silk tunic to replace his dress and steals a white button-up from her dad for Pearce. Now they’re Awkward Dinner Party ready!

Evil Exes, Amirite?

In case you’ve forgotten, Kess has a Brady-Bunch-worthy family. She runs into her dad, and later all three of her brothers: Zev, his twin Voss, and Rook. However, these aren’t all of the introductions the party is subjected to. As they enter the dining room in what I can only imagine is Oh My God They’re So Hot Slow Motion (with Kess donning her owl, Tibbins, for intimidation), they lay eyes on an unfamiliar and unimpressed elven woman who Xarus introduces as Sienna-- his current fiance. Well, he sure did move on fast. Between Sienna’s eye rolls, Kü’s harried feasting, and EVERYONE’S overwhelming discomfort, Xarus describes how he grew suspicious when Kess disappeared. After a little digging, he found out about the family’s arrangement with the city’s mayor, Vendreth; how he caught her criminal parents and promised them protection if they used their forces to help his failing city thrive.

Kess doesn’t see any issue, but Xarus laments that the townspeople have no idea who is running the show. It’s a clear threat, as Kess realizes the denizens would run them out of Mardosta if they knew the truth. Happy with himself and his mind games, Xarus invites his elven mistress to retire to their chambers with him…. if you know what I mean. She emotionlessly agrees, and the two leave the family alone. The Nobodies excitedly chatter about their exploits; no adventure going untold. Kü even introduces his mother, Marrow, and spends a moment praising Norse for being a good mother too. Pearce changes the subject to their treasure map, showing it briefly to Voss. He has no idea what the X’s could mean, but implores them to keep him updated. Norse then asks how long the party is staying-- enticing them with an upcoming festival that is SURE to have stickmeat. Kess proposes they stay for a while, saying they could make use of the family library and also figure out what the X closest to Mardosta hides.

Pearce not-so-subtly asks about the family’s trading habits, mostly trying to gauge if they have any dealings with his absent father. Turns out this ain’t an arms race, it’s a goddamn scene, and with routes halted in Larsham and Evercrest, the business has slowed down to a trickle. Kess breaks the business talk with a proposal for her companions and her siblings to go out on the town, and so they all prepare for a night in Mardosta. Pearce grabs his gun, Kess raids Rook’s training room for daggers (noticing a hefty potion collection), and everyone bundles up for the biting weather as they walk to the docks.

The Return of Nice Ghost

Kü spots a stationary boat in the water, with a rumpled dragonborn climbing out of it. Sus. As they get closer, they notice that it’s not a boat at all, but a disguised opening to a meeting spot called ‘The Underfrost’. Kess leads them down the cavernous tunnel lined with torches until they reach the bottom. Once there, they feast their eyes on merchants, a bar, and an imposing fighting pit-- all teeming with figures of all races. Kü jumps on the chance to, as he so eloquently describes it, ‘fuck shit up’; racing off with Voss and Zev in tow to sign up to battle. Kess instructs Pearce to place bets for the both of them as she grabs drinks… which turns out to be a monumentally bad idea. Pearce throws down 500 gold on Kü for himself but-- without express instructions from the druid-- dumps out her bag and wagers all of her 1,275 pieces of gold.

It turns out Kü is the next challenger to face… get this… Dickius Muscular. Is it his fantasy God-given name or a stage moniker? The world may never know. In any case, fervent hands push him toward the pit-- one attempting to remove his helmet. In retribution, Kü bites the tip of the offending person’s pinkie off, keeping his adornment as he summons a flood of shadows from it to cover him in armor. Thus the fight begins, and the massive goliath Dick...ius attacks our boy Kücifer with a mace in a blinding rage. Kü retaliates with his Bonemerang-- and when that does less damage that he expected, he summons Nice Ghost to keep him company. The spectral being chases after the goliath relentlessly; booping him any time he can come close. Dickius flees from the spectre, pursuing Kü-- who wreaths himself in shadow and disappears. Out of the darkness comes two fireballs, liberated from the kobold’s dwindling necklace.

Amazingly, this blast does not take his opponent out-- so Kü chugs a health potion as his vision suddenly goes green. He smells smoke and hears Mother in his head, asking to take a turn. He can do nothing but stare at Dickius as the shadows leave Kü to snake around the goliath and squeeze. Though deeply in pain, Dickius breaks free and heaves one last attack at Kü-- rendering him unconscious and sending Nice Ghost back into oblivion. With that, Kess rushes in to heal her friend, momentarily pissed at Pearce for losing all her money. Back on his feet, Kü shakily requests to be taken to bed, and the gunslinger scoops him up like a child and carries him; only to be repaid with a flow of vomit down his back as the kobold recovers slowly from his trauma. Still, Pearce keeps his composure and reassures Kü that he fought well, but begs him to try to sleep.

The Scream Heard ‘Round the Mansion

The group groggily returns to the family home and branches off to their respective rooms. Pearce gently lays Kü down and tucks him into bed before searching for a piece of paper and a writing utensil to pen a short note. He slips 200 gold into it and scrawls ‘I’m sorry’ onto the page. He slips out of the guest room to try and find Kess’ door-- and the one he picks, unbeknownst to him, is her parents’. However, our boy tried his best, so he returns to Kü; watching him as he sleeps. This dad-like worry Pearce has got going on makes me SOFT, y’all. I need MORE.

Kess, however, forgoes sleep for a time and instead grabs a bottle of wine from the kitchen. She takes it to the greenhouse and attempts to grow her second flower of the day-- which she has never done before. It takes a little more effort, but it does sprout, and she pleadingly asks to speak with the friend she grows them for. She waits, but no answer comes. Kess finishes the wine and stumbles up to her room, leaving the window open for good measure. She and Kü are sleeping soundly while Pearce fitfully wakes up from his perch on the sleeper sofa every so often to watch Kü’s chest rise and fall (PASS ME THE TISSUES). During one of his half-awake moments, Pearce watches the candle in the room extinguish and simultaneously hears a scream coming from downstairs.

Leaving the passed out kobold, Pearce takes off, only to be intercepted by Kess, who we all know has the passive perception of a dog waiting for you to drop that pepperoni on your pizza, Karen. She pulls him into the stairwell and they end up at the opening of Xarus’ chambers-- Sienna standing speechless in the doorway. When she ends up being less than helpful, the duo slip into the room, immediately laying eyes on the lifeless body of Kess’ failed groom. I wish I could say I was at all upset about this revelation, but I would be lying to you, dear readers. However, we now have a murder mystery on our hands! WHODUNNIT?!

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TL;DR

Our heroes attended a dinner party more uncomfortable than all of my family reunions put together. Talk about second-hand anxiety!

Kü is the Underfrost Fighting Pit Champion in my heart and I hope he gets a rematch against… *checks notes* the Goliath’s dick.

RIP, Xarus— ex-fiancé and stick in the mud. See you in hell.

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Kess’ed Be and catch the next session over at twitch.tv/lochness on July 21st at 7:30CST/8:30EST! AND if you’d like to watch THIS episode, you can find it at the link below: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xyi5JkW-SNY

[pmfry]

here are my (reposted, but also somewhat revamped) headcanons for poppy’s immediate family.  got her older sister up top and both of her parents below the cut.   complete with fcs,  hogwarts houses,  occupations,  deaths,  and a whole bunch more information because i love the pomfreys !   even if they all died and left poppy alone !

name: philipa “pippa” pomfrey --- poppy’s only sibling, four years poppy’s elder. faceclaim:  anastasia griffith. hogwarts house:  gryffindor. occupation:  barmaid.  at the time of her death,  was working at the three broomsticks.   strengths: charismatic,  attentive,  extroverted,  with that certain something about her that helps everyone around her feel at ease weaknesses:   messy,  chronically late,  emotionally distant when shit really hits the fan,    commitment-phobe to the max,   yet dangerously forgiving aesthetic: “can we pretend”  by pink    /    that friend who always manages to get a presale code for your favorite artist’s concerts    /    sunrise over the hillside    /    the bar after hours,   the roaring laughter of those precious few regulars allowed to dawdle several rounds past last call influence: pippa and poppy,  poppy and pippa . . . while the two ran with different crowds at hogwarts during the school terms (due to differences in age,  house sortings,  and interests),  during the summers,  they were inseparable.  some of poppy’s happiest memories of childhood involve her sister,  a broomstick,  and a sunny day out in the fields.   this was a friendship that continued into adulthood.  poppy’s longtime boyfriend-turned-fiancé max and ippa were the only two people in the world,  it seemed,  capable of encouraging poppy to take time off.   on her brief breaks,  they were liable to convince poppy to leave the hospital wing to the other healers and go to hogsmeade for dinner and drinks with max,  pippa,  and whatever woman pippa might have been seeing at the time  pippa held all of poppy’s secrets and poppy held all of pippa’s grudges.   they were best friends,  the very best friends. death:  pippa was killed during the first wizarding war during a death eater strike in hogsmeade village.   at age 38,  she was hardly the youngest life lost in the war or in that specific act of terror,  but her loss was the single most devastating to poppy personally.

name:  ernest pomfrey --- halfblood; the second of five siblings, the fourth of whom was a squib. faceclaim:  peter capaldi.  hogwarts house:  hufflepuff.  this surprised his family when he was young,  but the reasons for it became more apparent as he grew older.  although his outward actions and attitudes scream gryffindor, his internal motivations and values aligned more closely with hufflepuff.  his fellow badgers challenged him in ways others perhaps would not have,  and his adult self might have been all the more erratic and untempered were it not for their influence. occupation:  minor ministry official;  to this day, poppy is bit unsure of precisely what he did. strengths:  hardworking, passionate,  team player,  diligent,  socially aware,  morally sound weaknesses:  careless, moody, temperamental,  restless,  insatiable aesthetic:  “soul“ by matchbox twenty   /   a grandfather clock echoing in teh dead of night   /   the little boy at the petting zoo,  feeding the llama no matter how often it spits on him   /   day break over town hall,  a political rally in its infancy    /    a vegetable garden planted with best intentions but never watered to life influence:   when poppy was growing up,  her father stood as a perfect example of the dangers of motivation without self - reflection.   ernest was a hard worker,  deeply driven to pursue justice and progress whensoever he could.    however,   he also possessed the very shortest of fuses and utterly lacked patience for the finer details of his job,   which prevented him from progressing very far in the ministry,  despite what had appeared to be a promising career out of  hogwarts.   despite his tendency to  bite off well more than he was capable of chewing in the pursuit of all his passions,  he was a devoted husband and loving father.    his wife and daughters were his WORLD,  as were the wide circle of coworkers and friends he deemed his family ;   in their time of need,  he would do anything to be by their side.  this included him allowing his career to stall on several occasions that he could help evelyn in her ailing health. death:  ernest would come to outlive both his wife and eldest daughter,  dying of natural causes in the summer of 1994.

name:  evelyn pomfrey (formerly chapman) --- the youngest of four siblings and the only magical in the lot. faceclaim:  caroline goodall. hogwarts house:  gryffindor. occupation:  homemaker. strengths:  loyal,  headstrong,  direct,  self-reliant,  highly resilient weaknesses:   clumsy,  reckless in her youth,  forgetful,  sickly aesthetic:  “more heart,  less attack”  by needtobreathe    /    a lioness keeping vigil over her cub,   her kingdom    /    the pit - pat of an iv drip    /    creaky floor boards    /    a rainstorm,  a rocking chair  a front porch,  a shawl draped over thin shoulders influence:  to this day, poppy’s definition of true bravery comes from evelyn’s example: quiet, strong, and consistent in the face of horrible circumstance. a housewife for the vast majority of her life, she showed great adaptability in her day - to - day life. she was able to calm ernest in his most passionate of rages but was unafraid of escalating to his level if such fortitude was needed to bring him down. she taught poppy everything she knew, from the domestics of cooking and cleaning to her limited knowledge of wizarding politics and history, and filled their home with laughter and love. she nurtured her daughters, but did not coddle them;  she made no effort to hide her disappointment when poppy’s o.w.l’s rendered more E’s than O’s, pushing poppy to spent more time on revision in her final two years in order to gain the n.e.w.t’s required for an immediate placement with st. mungo’s. despondency and self - pity were never options for evelyn, remarkable when one considers that she would have had a multitude of valid reasons for feeling both. soon after marrying ernest, evelyn’s health took a sharp decline;  she was plagued by numerous ailments of both muggle and wizarding nature for the entirety of her life. but evelyn’s mind was strong where her body wavered.   death:  in her last few years, evelyn required near - constant care.   in 1978,  after a painful final few months,  she passed away peacefully in the pomfrey home with her husband and poppy on either side.

[babycapell]

new york’s very own baby capell was spotted on broadway street , with a striking semblance to courtney eaton ! you may know them as @capellbabyy or hitting the front page of tmz as natasha fox, suspected con-artist infamously identified as baby, unanimously declared innocent on charges faced in california . according to tmz , you just had your twenty-fourth birthday bash . while living in nyc , you’ve been labeled as being heartless , but also ambitious . things that would paint a better picture of you would be a cluster of designer shopping bags, tan limbs tangled in silk sheets, a heart shaped sucker dangling between glossed lips. ( cisfemale + she/her  ) +  (  saxon , twenty-six , she/her , cst )

Out Of Character

Guess who’s back again? Honestly I don't know how this is going to go because this is a very new character and quite different from anything I’ve played but I’m incredibly excited to bring her to life! As always, we stay very open to connection ideas and plotting so please do not hesitate to hit me up because me and my child are here for the chaos and drama! <3

Basic Information

Full Name: Natasha Wren Campbell-Fox. Baby Capell.

Nickname(s): Nat. Baby.

Birthday: January 6th.

Orientation: Pansexual.

Language(s) Spoken: English, French, Mandarin Chinese, Spanish.

Background

TW: cancer.

At just eighteen years old, Lucia Campbell left New Zealand and moved to England in hopes of pursuing a career in ballet only to unexpectedly end up pregnant just months later, putting a pause on both her dreams and her future. 

Unfortunately, unbeknownst to her at the time of conception, the child’s father was a married member of the British Royal family - albeit fifteenth in line for the throne, the fact that he had stepped out on his wife and had a bastard child was scandal that could not be afforded.

Although the man tried repeatedly to coerce Lucia into getting an abortion, assuring it was what was best for both of them, Natasha Wren Campbell arrived in the world Jaunary sixth, nineteen-ninety six. 

In order to keep the situation under wraps, her father stopped by once a month to ‘check in’. For Natasha and her mother, these events felt less like visits with family and more like important interviews where their every move was under harsh scrutiny, the check he gave them at the end of his visit enough to make sure they were able to get by, money that assured that his secrets were kept safe. 

Every memory Natasha held of the woman who raised her was a beautiful one, a woman she considered so good and ethereal that it almost made sense that she didn’t get to stay in their world for too long.

When Natasha was just fourteen, her mother began experiencing fatigue and pain too serious to brush off, diagnosed within a week with stage four pancreatic cancer, the illness seemed to arise out of nowhere and progressed rapidly, leaving her unable to work and therefore unable to provide for them. 

Natasha waited desperately for her father’s next visit, asking for help with growing bills and the hopes of finding a better doctor but he refused, deeming such beyond his concern and leaving them with the same check he had in every visit prior. 

With no way to make money to care for her herself or her mother, Natasha turned to the only thing she could think of, thievery. What started as sneaking into restaurants and fancy events in order to steal food soon became grabbing expensive items left sitting on tables, selling them for cash that would keep the lights or the heat on even a month longer. 

Still, within eight months, her mother was gone and Natasha was alone - without a job or a place to go. 

The teenager adapted the only way she knew how, using the same tricks that she had before but this time in order to get into hotels. She used her father’s name and position in order to get their attention and if asked, used the pet name her mother had used for her when asked in order to avoid being caught, Baby. 

Soon, she realized that showing fearlessness and confidence could get her almost anything - whatever hotel she could manage soon became the most lavish she could find and just having a bed to lay in at night became enjoying the high class service and catering offered to her.

One night, while enjoying dinner in the hotel restaurant, she was approached by an arrogant teenage boy who was clearly eager to flaunt the wealth his parents held. Rage flooded her but instead of lashing out, her mind pulled her on a different route. She played into his every word until he was obsessed with her and then she used it, doe eyes and sweet voice pleading for what his money had to offer her for three whole months. His interest - or rather his family’s interest in finance and technology was his ultimate downfall, giving her every bit of information she needed to drain his bank account and disappear.

Natasha quickly became aware of just what kind of power she held and she planned on using it, starting with the man whom she deemed, in some way, responsible for the loss of her mother. 

The teenager arrived on her father’s doorstep and played every bit of the confused and mortified girl finding out that her father had a whole life that she and her mother had been unaware of. It was while his wife asked her to wait upstairs as they fought in the living room that she found his study, making quick work of getting every ounce of information she could in order to ruin him financially later. 

Unexpectedly, however, she found an account that was depositing the same amount that he had been paying out to her and her mother monthly. She followed the lead in hopes to meet her possible half-sibling and found a true family instead. A half-sister, Tali Fox (who reminded her greatly of her own mother) and her mother who all too happily took her in and adopted her as if she had always belonged.

Still, the world of lavish living and conning men whom she felt deserved it had piqued her interest in a way she couldn’t explain and she wasn’t ready to give up. She became a chameleon of sorts; spending nights going out to special venues, catching the eye of a rich male and playing the role of their dream girl - she’d use them for months, allowed them to shower her in precious gifts until she grew bored, draining their accounts and disappearing from their lives.

Six months ago she was arrested in California on multiple charges of larceny, fraud and forgery and had been awaiting a trial that finally began at the end of August and concluded just last week with a unanimous verdict of innocence, due to both a lack of evidence and witnesses. (aka; this little b*tch is good at what she does, no evidence and most dudes won’t even come out to say anything against her because they’re either still in love and/or don’t want to admit they got played by this angel face)

Now that she is out, she has arrived in New York to spend some quality time with her sister and perhaps, lay low for a while. 

Personality

Look, there’s no way to sugarcoat it, this girl is the sugar baby supreme okay? She wants your attention and your love and your money and that’s it. She doesn't feel nothing for you anyway, but she feels even less if you don’t adore her, dammit. 

She’s not a bad person, she’s really not - she pry donates all her clothes to the women’s shelter once she’s worn them even once and donates more than half of the money she steals to charity but like...she’s just very very angry and hurt and thinks all rich men deserve to suffer for being the type of man her father was which like - are you going to tell her she’s wrong? And she’s in too deep now, she just can’t stop. 

A true personality unknown though, tbh? She basically has been playing chameleon for so long, she doesn’t know who she is or how to be? Just adjusts to make you happy. Literally the fakest. 

Also she’s totally pansexual but like...way too focused on scamming men because they’re dumb and shit so like, definitely pry fucks around with females/nonbinaries from time to time but always finds herself going back to the hustle.

Desired Connections

A childhood friend who knew Natasha before the loss of her mother who hasn’t seen her since before that happened?

A childhood friend who’s known Natasha the whole time and maybe worries about her and her mental health?

The child of someone she conned? Honestly give me someone who’s dad Natasha hustled and they either hate her for it or just seriously respect her because they didn’t like him anyway? Or maybe even a sibling or an ex that she conned? 

For males? Past scams? Current scams? Future scams? Let this bitch play you, please. We can decide details as to how long or how serious it got, they could hate her or be secretly still obsessed/in love with her or both at once? Literally anything, okay! If you want someone to fuck up your guy in the past or future - this is your girl!

For females or nonbinaries? Give me someone who was maybe genuinely interested in her? Someone who wanted/tried to have a relationship and she was just like nah and it fucked them up a little bit maybe? Honestly maybe even a female/nonbinary she conned because even though she usually doesn’t, she thought they were an ass and deserved it?  

Someone who perhaps she actually started falling for a little, realized she wasn’t actually scamming them, that she was just chilling and she was like excuse??? And left without even scamming them? Or did just to prove to herself that she didn’t actually care about them? Kslflaks;sa I don’t know, she’s messy as hell, y’all.

[theinsanecrayonbox]

Digging your tabletop pride icons! I like the filter effect they have! :-) Do you by any chance have a textpost of the characters and their sexual orientations/gender identities? I recognise some of your characters, but not all of them, and there are pride flags I've never seen before, so I'd like to learn more. :-)

well thank you. it was just a bit of photoshop work.

i do not have a list of that made up yet...so lets do that now lol

let me preface this though with two points.; 1) i am 1 of 2 females who play regularly in my dnd group of 6 (sometimes 7) people, the other is Dixon. so i am usually the only female in the party itself. i have only ever played 2 (and a half) male characters in the 6/7 years i’ve been playing; every other male character i do in my tabletop group arts are story characters, not player characters. i am also 1 of 2 (sometimes 3) people in the group under 40. romance isn’t really a big part of our storytelling...no matter how hard i try to put it back in there ^^; 2) i identify as quoisexual myself, so all my characters have that to some degree in them just because i’m the player and you bleed into your characters that way. i also use goggle as a helpful tool to learn about all the different identities, so my knowledge and interpretation is fallible.

ok so list now;

Paige-Cupioromantic, meaning does not feel attraction, but desires that type of relationship i went with this, because Paige....well...is Paige lol. as one player once said “it feels wrong trying to date her, because she acts so young and innocent” and to be fair, she isn’t really out here looking at people as romantic partners. she wants friends, she loves her friends. also you know, mortal embodiment of an eldritch horror terror, so...

Cizma-Fraysexual, meaning has strong attraction until a relationship is formed and then the attraction fades she’s the opposite of Paige, and this is mostly based on her “relationship” with InkShade honestly; she believes she’s madly in love with him, but he refuses her, so she pursues him more. i think if he gave into hr advances and reciprocated, she’d realized her feelings weren’t what she thought they were. i admit, this one’s new to me so my interpretation could be very wrong, but that’s how i feel it fits Cizma.

Ada-Quoisexual, meaning has trouble distinguishing between romantic and sexual attraction as i said above, my default is this, so if i don’t know a character’s leanings it’s their too (yes jelena is my icon and is this too fyi). BUT in fairness, it suits Ada because of how she was raised; she has very little idea how to properly people here. and she is developing some sort of a relationship with Til. also, her first dice bag was my pride bag with this flag.

Gauzra-Lithoromantic, meaning has desires of attraction, but does not want them reciprocated again, kind of supposed to be in opposite to Ada, and seeing as i still don’t know Gauzra’s personality this could change...but from my interpretation of her right now, this feels right. plus the flag goes with her color scheme.

Rosalba-Demisexual, meaning does not feel attraction until a strong bond is formed at the time i was playing Ro, this was how i identified primarily, but it still suits her i think. if you met Rico after meeting her, you would never know WHY they were a couple, but those two kinda fought against two life times to be together (three if you count the accent into godhood). Ro’s also never been good at getting close to people, but once she did, you’re stuck with her.

K’nessan-Nonbinary, meaning does not identify with a binary gender scale; Marsic, meaning is attracted to masculine qualities ok, ok, *technically* since Ness is a hermaphrodite they should be inter-sexed BUT they do prefer the gender neutral pronouns (followed by the masc; never use “it/that’ or you will die)...and their color scheme matches the flag, so... ^^; i also included in the list the Marsic because Ness does have a preference for male partners

Nemo-Asexual, meaning has no desires for attraction Nemo is nothing but a hero, so that pretty much screamed ace to me...plus it matched her color scheme

Mekala-Aromantic, meaning has no desire for attraction i wasn’t really sure about her, since you know 2 failed campaigns in a row didn’t give her much room to grow, but i could see this working. she’s not really looking for anything, more searching her past. 

Jass-Bisexual, meaning attracted to both males and females Jass is my sabretooth, so my sabretooth headcanons are canon for her lol. we only saw her have a relationship with fantasy!Deadpool in the game she was played, but hey

Tesla-Electio Aroace, meaning has no desire for attraction, whether sexual, romantic, or tertiary  i admit, this one is completely new to me, so my interpretation could be very wrong, but the idea that this is one that is uninterested in any form of attraction suits my viral android very well. again, she has gone on record saying that “the biological imperative for emotions is distractive” (more or less) which is especially funny since she was played in a valentines game where the goal was to let Cupid infect a town with horniness to make babies; Tesla was the only one unaffected and actively trying to stop that. so yeah.

Theo-Pansexual, meaning is attracted to any gender yeah, Theo’s just out there doing and being anything

Sean-Bisexual, meaning attracted to both males and females; he however has a stronger male preference i admit, one reason why Sean is bi and not just gay is for the “half and half” joke...but yeah, he started the game with a boyfriend, he would kill everyone for his boyfriend, he woudl die for his boyfriend.

Vitanya-Gynosexual, meaning attracted to feminine qualities still learning new things as we do this, but since Vita has had little development (but will be getting more) i’m kinda aiming to have her be a bit more into girls...we’ll see how that pans out

Lokaj-Androsexual, meaning attracted to masculine qualities originally i had him as something else, but when i saw that description i liked it better, since he ended up with Arkos and all

Arkos-Transgender, meaning identifies with a different physical gender than the one assigned at birth; Gay, meaning attracted to men going more off the latest version here than my previous one for this. but yeah, he’s just straight up trans here, not intersexed, and his tribe is cool with it. plus being a tribe means not enough money to get magic to physically change anything...but he’s ok with that. in his tribe it’s less what you have and more how to act.

Rikkar-Bisexual, meaning attracted to both males and females mainly because he did have a fiance...even though they weren’t super into the idea, they weren’t against it either...but he’s far more into Ark

Tarn-Lesbian, meaning attracted to women she has been a loud raging lesbian since day one, and nothing will ever change that. not even one continuity having her in a forced, bested in trial by combat, marriage to Starlord basically. she will only go for a dude if he’s a dragon...and he’s gotta be a hot dragon...and even then it win’t lasting dude.

Reyzah-Abrosexual, meaning one’s attraction is constantly changing or fluid Reyzah started as a knock-off tarn honestly and never got to thrive too much. but compared to her siblings, she was always the one learning and trying to figure herself out, so this fits well.

Margus-gay, meaning attracted to men Margus, similarly to his sister, started off as quiet nervous gay, and by the end of the adventure he had himself a doppleganger husband and confidence to boot, so yeah, my baby boy grew up good. admittedly a lot of his self-confidence issues were more from his half-orc heritage, BUT that fed into the “no one would wanna date me cause i suck” mentality. so yeah.

Nikkos-Asexual, meaning feels no desire for attraction he’s Margus’ twins, and was always intended to be some sort of ace. the joke being the Ironbrood kids are a full set; likes girls, likes guys, figuring things out, likes doughnuts. i waffled over making him a more defined type though...but since i’ve only played him for like one session as a background character, i’m not sure where he’s at. so general ace is fine. he loves and supports his siblings, and is best uncle to Margus’ kids anyways, so s’all good.

Jelena-Quoisexual, meaning has trouble distinguishing between romantic and sexual attraction i know i said up in Ada’s that Jelena was this too, but here i am saying it again since she’s my actual icon and not in the reffed to image set. i haven’t played her, so this could change...but i’m very self projecting on her during quarantine to begin with, so yeah she’s quoi until proven otherwise ^^;

so hope you found this informative...and that my information isn’t too terribly off ^^;;;

[sakumosowainthirst]

I’m running on 4 hours of sleep and coffee; let’s make a controversial post! Today’s topic: Fates/Awakening ships I hate!  :D

Preface: I’m not hating on anyone who ships these.  I’m also not saying you can’t/shouldn’t ship these.  I’m merely voicing why I dislike them, because I usually keep it all to myself and just feel like screaming into the void today.  So all of this is just my opinion, and you don’t have to take it seriously, okay? C:  Also, I don’t want to have to type “to me” after every opinion, so just take it as implied.

Now then, let’s begin.

Lonliss/Lon’qu-Lissa

Easily my biggest dislike on the list.  I will never, ever, ever understand why this is Owain’s most popular parentage.  Their supports weren’t all that great, and they are just so different from each other in ways that I think they would just clash.  I’ve seen people who ship it say, “He would be so supportive of Owain’s banter!  He would encourage his playfulness!”  And all I can think is, “Are we thinking of the same Lon’qu?  The one who’s stoic, doesn’t talk much, is very serious and grumpy?  That Lon’qu?”  He’s the token tsundere, sure, but I really don’t see him accepting Owain; I actually see the opposite.  I feel like Lissa and Owain’s upbeat personalities would grate on his nerves, to the point he’d find them both unbearably embarrassing.  Lissa and Lon’qu also just have MUCH BETTER ships/supports with other characters, and tbh, they both deserve better.  Lissa and Owain deserve someone who gels with their sunshine energy, and Lon’qu deserves a more reserved partner.  Of all Owain’s dad ships, Lonliss is the only one I truly cannot, “see,” and no explanation has made me able to, “see,” it as they both are in canon, and probably never will, tbh.  Every other Lissa ship, I can find some sort of merit, even if I don’t ship it, but when I look at Lonliss, there is just none.  No chemistry, no commonality, no anything that makes them a good couple.  Not in canon, anyway.  I’ve heard a ton of headcanons for it (I’m an Owain stan and this is quite literally his most popular dad, it’s very common), and fanon is fine and dandy, but when it bends canon too much, it just doesn’t sit well with me, and Lon’qu being any sort of okay with Lissa and Owain just bends canon too much, to me.  They’re too hyper, he’s too reserved.  As a final thought, I’m admittedly not a fan of any ship that takes Lissa and Owain away from Ylisstol, and Lon’qu (along with Donnel) does.  Their ending states they live in Ferox, and I just don’t like that.  I like Owain growing up alongside Lucina.  Also, Cynthia and probably Morgan would be in Ylisstol, and Owain canon has the Justice Cabal with them in his youth, so that’s kind of contradictory if he’s born and raised in Ferox.  (I also personally headcanon both Lissa and Owain hating the cold, tbh.  Odin has a line about hating the cold in Anna’s DLC in Fates, and I think Lissa mentions hating snow at some point, too, though I could be wrong.)

Owainigo/Laslodin/Owain-Brady

Grouping these together because I’m equally meh on both.  I can definitely see them, but I don’t like them.  Owain and Inigo do become bros, but I kind of feel like they would still squabble like petty children like their Awakening supports.  It’s more in a brotherly way, though; they start off teasing each other and end up in a slap-hands fight.  I like them as a friendship, just not a romantic ship.

Owain/Brady I have more trouble seeing because their only commonality is their mothers, and their supports make them seem like casual friends at best.  I feel like their mothers is a big part of why they’re shipped, tbh, which is just kind of :T for me.  I can see them if I squint, but it’s not a ship I care for.

The saddest thing is, look up anything spicy for Owain, you’re going to find one of these two in it.  Either these two or...

Odiniles/Leodin/Leotrio Threesome

Oh boy, here we go, SakuMo disliking another popular pairing(s).  Odin and Niles canonically bicker.  Like, they are nasty to each other.  Odin says as much in their A rank.  He says they should try to get along more, but I’m not really sure how well that would turn out.  To be honest, the only thing they really have in common is their loyalty to Leo.  Lacking that, they’re two wildly different people.  I’m not saying that different people can’t work as a couple--it happens all the time--but if you lack at least some common ground, it makes it really hard for a relationship to work.  Devotion to your master isn’t really much common ground.  Given their canon history, dramatically different personalities, and lack of common interests, I just don’t see them being compatible.  Every Odiniles fic I’ve ever read had Niles uncharacteristically understanding of Odin, to the point it didn’t even feel like Niles at all/he was very OOC.  One again, fanon is fine--you do you!--but bending canon too much and/or in ways that don’t make sense to the character is just not my scene.

Leodin is one that I can kind of see, definitely more than Odiniles, which in no way works in my head, but I’m just not a fan of it, generally.  My dislike isn’t as strong as with Odiniles, but it’s still there.  And I’ll just say that I am not into poly, don’t like OT3s, threesomes, etc., so that should sum up my feelings on the Leotrio as an OT3.

Odilise, Lazura, Selbaki, a.k.a. “The Oedipus Complex Ships”

Don’t make the Trio marry their moms, fam.  Odilise is the most egregious one, tbh, because Elise is so much like Lissa and it’s so, so creepy to ship her with Odin.  Never mind that canon Elise is supposed to be like...14-15 (I reject this canon and substitute my own hc of 18, but I digress), and though we don’t know how long the Trio is in Nohr before the start of Fates, we can assume anywhere from six months to a year or two considering they are well-established as retainers, so Odin is probably in his early 20s, at youngest maybe 20-21.  (Granted, using the canon ages makes a lot of ships suspect, especially with the younger characters, but I digress.)  I get that Elise is a good stat mom for Ophelia and gives the “canon” hair, but the ship itself is just problematic on a lot of fronts.  She’s basically his mom, their supports are playful but it def feels brotherly-sisterly (granted most of Elise’s supports do) and throws in the romance literally out of left field in the S rank, and they just look kind of suspect together, fam.  I have unfortunately in my travels across the internet for Owain content seen Odin/Elise porn, and the fact it makes me uncomfortable in a, “this looks really illegal,” way speaks volumes.  And again, yes, I know the same would be true for other ships with Elise, and it’s why there are few I actually like with her.  But Odin/Elise just in particular bothers me because like Lonliss, I see it the most, and it’s made me irrationally bitter toward it.  This one and Lonliss are my two, “hair-trigger rage,” ships.  I see either, I get really annoyed.  I don’t voice this, mind--I keep on scrolling and ignore the content--but it does make me grumpy, lol.  They’re the two I can honestly say I hate instead of just saying I dislike.

Selbaki is a bit lesser, but it basically makes Severa her own grandma, don’t do that. xD  Severa already has a complex with trying to be perfect like her mom, so making her feel the same not only for her husband but also her daughter is just cruel to her.  Give Severa a break, y’all.

Lazura is the least similar, admittedly, but it’s still in the same vein.  Performer marrying a performer.  Of the three, I can tolerate it the most, but it’s still not great for me.

Corrin/Any sibling, including Azura

Look, I get it.  Corrin is, by technicality, not blood-related to any of them, with the exception of Azura, who is their blood-related cousin.  H O W E V E R, just because they find out that they aren’t blood-related to the Nohr siblings doesn’t mean the familial bonds just go POOF.  The Nohr siblings would definitely not be like, “I guess we can bang Corrin now.”  If this were the case, adopted families would never “truly” bond because they aren’t related by blood.  Corrin growing up in Nohr means that they would most likely always see the Nohr siblings as family, and vice-versa.

Hoshido, on the other hand, is a bit trickier.  While it’s true they aren’t blood-related, I want to say Ryoma is the only one who knows?  Like, I think he’s the only one who brings it up in the S Support?  But lacking that, Corrin and the rest of the Hoshido siblings do think they’re blood-related.  Hidden Truths states that Corrin never learned the truth about their real father, nor that Lilith is their sister.  All 3 routes play out with the assumption that Sumeragi was Corrin’s father, and if it’s stated otherwise, it’s maybe only in the beginning as a throwaway line during the Mikoto section.  You could make a plausible argument that the Trio could tell Corrin the truth, since all 3 of them have heart-rank lines where they reveal their real names and that they’re from another world, but that’s leading into possible canon rather than actual canon (and is also why I hc it).  But for all intents and purposes, Corrin thinks they are blood-siblings with the Hoshido fam, so that would make them less likely to pursue them romantically.  And even if they knew, they still all all each other brother/sister.

Azurrin is the trickiest.  It’s only in Revelation that the connection between Arete, Azura’s mother, and Mikoto, Corrin’s mother, is made, afaicr, so in Birthright and Conquest, Corrin technically wouldn’t know they are cousins.  However, Azura would.  Azura always knew everything, because her mother told her about Valla and taught her the traditional song and such.  She most likely knew Mikoto was her aunt.  Even on the off chance she didn’t know, it would still be an awkward down the line thing when they find out they’re cousins.  I know Japan is more lenient on the whole cousin-marriage thing, but...don’t have Shigure and Kana coming out looking like the Habsburgs, please, I beg you, lol.

My rule of thumb: if two characters refer to each other as, “brother,” or, “sister,” at any point, don’t let them fuck.  xD

Kana/Any Romantic/Sexual Ship

Kana is a child.  Stop it.  Stop it right now.  They are a baby.  I’VE SEEN FICS, I KNOW IT EXISTS, YOU SICK FUCKS.  Even aged up feels a little awkward, but I can be a little bit more lenient on that.  I just never will.  Kana is asexual and aromantic in my eyes, lol.

That’s all I can really think of right now; coffee is wearing off, I need a nap, lol.  Once again, please don’t be offended if I dislike a ship you like!  We are all different!  I just wanted to throw this out there on the off chance I do requests again and someone wants one of these written, because I would respectfully decline.  I don’t mean these to be hateful, just sort of venting into the ether in a mildly-exhausted stupor.

Also, you can try to counter me on some of these, but tbh, a few of them, I am stubbornly never going to change my mind, so we’d just go round and round in a circular argument if you tried.  xD  I like what I like and don’t like what I don’t, lol.  I’m not typically a multi-shipper, either, so you’d probably be hard-pressed to get me to shift at all, lol.  I mean that in the most loving way possible, too.

[natsutodoroki]

You’ve always been a late bloomer.

You refused to depart from your mothers womb 3 weeks after you were due to come out. You, young & full of dimples & smiles & whatever else a baby had, refused to talk until you neared 14 months. You found walking a hassle, forgot how to breathe   too caught up in the world of watching your brother of eating your sisters hair. In reality, perhaps these were just little hints to how you were going to become todoroki enjis third failure, or simply the worlds last ounces of kindness to you before things were slipped away. You are always a late bloomer, & this time it doesn’t change. 

You are 3 when you develop your quirk.

It’s cold, it’scoldcoldcold as ice slips through your shaking palms into the world around you, freezing the room down below the average temperature you’re used to. You see your older brother crack something of a smile. Your sisters brows, furrowed together in caution, & the relief. You see the relief in your mothers face. You feel joyous, too, undisclosed but joyous all the same.

“ Is that all you can do? ” Your father asks you. “ No flames? ”

“ I don’t think so. ”

He turns directly to your mother. “ ... Then you’ve raised another failure. ” ( failure, a word that would ring in your minds eye forever, not natsuo, not son, failure   that’s all you’ve ever been. )

It’s the last time your father ever looks you in the eyes.

Todoroki Shouto is born when you are 4.

He’s tiny, but the doctors say he’s pretty average for a baby. One eye matching your mothers & the other just like your fathers. The perfect half & half baby, you’d heard spoken by your father out in the corridor. Touya boops his nose & Fuyumi complains of being the only girl in the family & your mother, dear mother, can only laugh softly. 

When it’s your turn to see him, you offer him a finger, his tiny hand ends up latching onto it instead. 

“ Shou - chan, i’m gonna be the best big brother you ever had! ”

( what a lie that was, you muse 14 years later as he tells you he likes soba the most, most brothers would’ve known this much years ago. )

Shouto learns to walk faster than you, talk faster than you. His hair follows his eyes in a match up of both mother & father & he shines brighter in both their eyes everyday. You, surprisingly, have minimal memories of this time. ( a lot of the information is brought up through fuyumi & mothers talks back in the hospital. ) 

He’s the epitome of Todoroki Enji’s mind, & when his quirk shows up to be perfect, it comes less of a surprise than most. 

It’s only the events that pursue after that alert you that something is truly wrong.

You remember the first day you heard shouto’s crying.

No, correction, mother’s screaming & shouto’s crying. Both together, never one without the other ( until mother had to go, then it was only one. )

You do not remember your first reaction, though, only your responce. 

You were awake before they happened. ( awake, always awake & knowing & there ). You were awake when they began, & continued. You were awake during the footsteps.

You were awake enough to run into Touya.

Touya, Touya with shaking fists & glowering eyes. Armed with a rage to match your fathers own, Touya     who’d spent his whole life insisting that things would be okay soon, that everyone was going to be alright. Touya, who had searched for fathers approval & done his best only to wake up to the truth. 

He blinks at you. 

You blink back.

( it’s funny, how two people reaching for the same outcome can come together to create something different. rei is the mother to the both of you, you are both shoutos older brothers. but touya is touya-nii, & you: tear stained & confused, are still his younger brother too. ) 

He guides you back into your room. Sleeps beside you & covers your ears with his palms.

It’s a routine, until he goes.

After an incident with Shouto, mother leaves.

( You’re upset. )

After a while, Touya leaves too.

( You’re upset. )

Years later, in a blaze of “glory”, you leave too.

( You’re upset. )

You know Todoroki Fuyumi lives in a world of twos.

Two pairs of glasses on her possession at all times. Two black pens on the left hand side of her desk. Two stars for two children in her preschool class. Two of everything she likes a little bit more than the rest of them.

Todoroki Fuyumi had found something lucky in the number two, but with her siblings    that shouldn’t have been it.

“ I’ve been through the same with my two brothers. ” She tells some small time pro in the middle of one of todoroki enji’s parties.

“ Well, being the oldest is the hardest ! “ they reply, & suddenly it hits you.

With the vanishment of the presence leads a vanishment of the name: Todoroki touya is simply a burnt out piece of paper with the memories to boot. ( You shouldn’t be surprised, the numb acceptor in you compromises, it was bound to happen the moment they found him gone. )

You excuse yourself when the hurt finds your face.

“ You look like you’ve seen a ghost. ” remarks a smoker outside the building.

“ I have. ” You say, & throw up all over their shoes.

Just because you are not your father does not mean you do not share similar traits, a tall & broad body, for one, & that unwavering stubbornness to never back down in cases where you maybe should.

Fuyumi, in that sense, takes after mother: the forgive & forget to your resent & remember. Dressed in her work clothes & a smile so sorrowed you’d struggle to not feel bad over whatever she wants to say.

“ Can I come in ? ” she shoves her box of leftovers at you

“ Sure. ” you take them.

“ We need to talk … “ She murmurs in a mouth full of sushi.

“ Yeah, well it was really sunny today Yumi. The news reports state it’s gonna be pretty cold tomorrow, I’m kinda grateful for that lack of heat, y’know – “

“ Natsu…. I didn’t forget Touya. You understand that, right? It’s just, dad mentioned that it would be better &      . ”

“ You’re doing this for dad. ” You parrot, there’s that familiar acidic taste in your mouth. “ Touya can go rot in hell for all we care as long as the man who gave him both physical & metaphorical scars can stay happy & question free, right? ”

“ That’s not what    . ”

“ Well it sure sounds like it! First mum, now touya, I wouldn’t be surprised if shouto’s going through it about me, too! ”

“ No, Shouto misses you, we both do… you didn’t leave us & I don’t believe you plan too, natsuo. I don’t want to lose anyone else in this house, I can’t go through it again… “ there’s hurt in her voice, you can’t understand it.

“ But Touya did & that’s on him, yeah? Its funny, how many times he stuck up for us but now he’s gone we can’t do the same for him, huh? Bullshit, yumi, it feels like no one gives a shit about touya in this household apart from me ! ”

Maybe this is your breaking point, eyes full of tears before you crash into her smaller frame. She, the ever present forgiver, wraps your hair around her fingers & soothes you. just like you’re a young boy again, left behind again, lost again.

You are Todoroki Natsuo & you live by three things. 

1. You are not a failure. ( it’s repeated in the mouth of your therapist, the 5 o’clock notification in your phone & written in random post it notes between stacks of college work. )

2. You don’t have to forgive him. ( fuyumi & mother may do, & you have no right to change their minds, but you do not have to follow the same route. )

3. You are simply yourself, live that way. 

[queenofcats17]

BATIM Inktober 31

Last day and it’s Reborn. I decided to focus on Esther and Joey’s relationship since Esther’s been on my mind lately.

This is three days late, and for that I am sorry. 

Most people who were friends with Esther Klein didn’t know she even had a brother. Her best friend hadn’t even known Esther had a sibling until she’d been invited to the Drew household and had seen the family portraits. She wasn’t surprised, honestly. She’d led most of her life separate from Joey. She was six years older, after all, always too old to be a proper playmate for him. She’d had expectations to meet, responsibilities to perform. By the time he’d run away from home, she’d been up to her ears in work at the law firm. Still, she remembered the day her mother had called her with cold clarity. She’d gotten home from work to find the phone ringing off the hook. She’d answered, expecting it to be a colleague from the firm who had been pursuing her relentlessly. She’d been ready to yell until she heard her mother crying on the other end. Her mother was speaking too fast, her voice clouded with tears.

“Ma, slow down,” Esther said. “I can’t understand what you’re saying.”

“It’s…It’s Joey.” Her mother sobbed. “He’s gone.”

“Gone…? What do you mean gone?”

“He ran away!”

Esther’s heart sank. Looking back, she felt like she should have seen it coming. Her parents had been worried about Joey, telling her about how angry he’d been getting, how he’d been drawing away from them. Looking back, she felt like she should have done something. She hadn’t been able to go back home to comfort her parents, so she tried to assuage their fears on the phone. Her heart was heavy when she hung up. She knew Joey’s mind had been set on art, but their parents had been worried he wouldn’t be able to live comfortably like that. Joey had evidently taken this to mean that they didn’t believe in him. He was always doing things like this. Always acting impulsively without any regard for the consequences. But she couldn’t force herself to be angry with him. She was terrified. She didn’t know where he’d go or what was going to happen. And that was petrifying.

She didn’t see her brother again for almost 20 years. By that point, he’d made quite a name for himself in the animation world. Joey Drew Studios. When the studio had opened, Esther had almost cried from relief. Her brother was safe and alive. And best of all, he was making cartoons like he’d wanted. She allowed herself to believe, for a time, that he was happy. But this only lasted for so long. When the rumors of bankruptcy began to circle, she paid a visit to her brother’s studio. She told no one at the office where she was going, nor did she tell Robert. But her husband knew. He always seemed to know. No one at the studio recognized her, not that she expected them to, especially since she introduced herself as Esther Klein. The employees looked nervous when she said she was a lawyer, but also resigned. She was led down to Joey’s office by a thin man with crooked glasses and dark bags under his eyes who told her he was the accountant, Grant Cohen. He assumed she was there because of the bankruptcy, and she did nothing to tell him otherwise.

“Mr. Drew, there’s someone here to see you,” Grant said when he opened the door.

“Tell them to wait.” Joey snapped. He looked to be buried under a mountain of paperwork.

“I’m not waiting.” Esther’s voice made him freeze. He looked up very slowly. Grant took one look at Joey’s face and got out, leaving the siblings alone.

“What are you doing here?” Joey’s expression was closed and guarded. There was no trace of the bright-eyed boy who had tugged on her sleeves to show her his drawings.

“I came to see you.” She replied. God, he looked so much older. She could see the beginnings of grey at his temples, mixed in with his dark brown hair. There were lines around his mouth, his eyes. He’d filled out a bit since she’d last seen him, stocky like their father. He’d grown a mustache too. It looked good. He looked like an adult. He was an adult. So why did she still think of him as that gangly kid?

“I figured.” Joey narrowed his eyes. “Why did you come to see me?”

“I missed you, Jojo.”

“Don’t call me that!” He stood up abruptly, slamming his hands on the desk. She didn’t flinch. She was used to his outbursts.

“I missed you.” She repeated. “Ma and Pa miss you.”

“It’s been 20 years. If you really missed me that much you would have found me sooner.”

“How?” She could feel her temper beginning to rise. “You ran away, Joey. You didn’t want to be found. You didn’t tell us where you were going, you didn’t tell us where you were staying, you didn’t even tell us you started this studio. Ma and Pa had to find out from the paper that you were even still alive.” She still remembered that news clipping her parents had sent her, the photo of Joey standing side by side with a man she didn’t recognize, looking happier than she’d seen him in years.

Joey grumbled something, sitting down. “What do you want Esther?”

She sighed, pulling out a check from her purse and placing it on the desk. Joey looked at her, then at the check, then back again.

“It’s not going to bite you.” Esther folded her arms. Joey snatched the check up, looking it over. His eyes widened.

“This…This is a lot of money.”

“It is.”

“Are you…giving it to me?”

“I am.”

For a moment, relief seemed to wash over her brother’s face. Then it was gone.

“You think I can’t do this.” He snarled, face transforming into a mask of rage.

“I think you’re having a hard time right now.” She chose her words carefully. “But I believe in you. I just want to give you a little help.” He scowled at her, then at the check.

“You changed your name.” He said. “Did you get married?”

“I did.” She couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Robert.

“Do you have kids?” His anger was ebbing now, curiosity peeking through.

“You have a niece and nephew, Joey.” She pulled out a photo, handing it to him. It was a family photo of her, Robert, and their two children. Rachel scowled at the camera, displeased by the dress she’d had to wear. Isaac dozed in his mother’s arms. He’d never minded getting dressed up as long as he was being held. Joey held the photo gingerly. The children in the picture were so small. The girl looked a lot like Esther, and the boy looked like the man he assumed was Esther’s husband, but with that trademark Drew dark hair.

“What are their names?” He asked quietly.

“The girl is Rachel and the boy is Isaac.” It was hard to miss the pride on Esther’s face. He’d always known she’d make a wonderful mother. Joey felt his stomach begin to twist into knots. She was like Henry. She had a family, a good job. There was no place for him in their perfect lives.

“They’re…They’re beautiful kids.” He handed the photo back to her. Esther tucked the picture back into her purse, studying his face carefully. He looked so sad.

“I’d love for you to meet them.” She said. Joey’s eyes shifted away from her. He pursed his lips, folding his hands on the desk.

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“I just can’t.”

“That’s not an answer, Joey,” Esther said flatly. “Why can’t you come to meet them?”

“There’s no place for me in your perfect life.” Joey shook his head, a touch of bitterness entering his voice. “You’re some big-shot lawyer. I’d be a disgrace if you introduced me to any of your friends.”

“You’re being ridiculous.” She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “As if I’d ever be friends with someone who would think that of you.” The people at the firm who spoke disparagingly about Joey and his cartoons were not the kind of people she liked to associate with. Elitist assholes who looked down on her and the people she was close to.

“You’d eventually become ashamed of me.”

“Joey.”

“You’d throw me out eventually. As soon as I do something you don’t like, you’ll just pretend you’re not related to me.”

“I would never do that to you,” Esther said softly. She was honestly hurt that he thought she’d do something like that to him.

“You will.” Joey looked up at her, his expression hard and his eyes cold. “You’re just like everyone else.” Esther stared at him for a moment before her expression hardened as well.

“You want to wallow in self-pity? Fine.” She said, turning away. “But don’t come crawling back to me when this whole thing blows up in your face.”

“I don’t need your pity!” Joey stood up again, hands on his desk. “You never believed in me anyway! None of you ever did! But I’ll show you!”

“I hope you drown in ink!” She stormed out of the office and up the stairs. The employees whispered as she passed, saying something about how Joey had pissed off another lawyer. Grant shot her an apologetic look as she passed his office. She drove him, going upstairs once she returned and curling up on her bed. Robert came to join her a few minutes later.

“I’m guessing it didn’t go great.” He sat down beside her, rubbing her back.

“I don’t even recognize him anymore.” She muttered. “What happened to my brother?” She felt on the verge of tears. Esther didn’t like crying. When she’d been young, bullies had called her crying a sign of weakness. Unless she trusted someone, she didn’t want to cry in front of anyone.

“It’s going to be okay.” Robert pulled her into his lap, stroking her hair. “We’ll figure this out.”

There were many times in the years following that where Esther wondered what it would have been like if she’d been able to talk Joey down, if her children had been able to grow up with their uncle. Maybe she could have saved his employees from the fates they’d suffered. But she’d been so angry at him after that conversation at his office that she hadn’t gone back for a long time. And when she did…It was too late. Her brother had died a long time ago. In his place, there was only a monster. And Esther felt she’d helped to create that monster.

[samyelbanette]

No Rest For The Wicked: A Thiefshipping Oneshot

So, all the way back in winter 2017, I signed up for @sitabethel‘s Thiefshipping Dirty Santa fanfiction-writing event. And then I promptly forgot about the whole thing, until today, when they reminded me about it. -_- I’m dumb as hell. So, it’s months late, but here’s the fic I wrote for the event!

The prompt I was given was “I’ll let you know all my flaws now, so you could love me better or leave me quicker.” 

The flash of white, amongst all the dark hair and skin of the people of Cairo, caught Marik's eye immediately. 

It was strange to be back in Egypt, after all the time he'd spent travelling the world with Rishid as the leader of the Ghouls. Running from the past, he admitted to himself. That was over now - after the tumultous events in Domino City, Japan, he'd resolved his grudge against the Pharoah, and accepted his role as a Tombkeeper. The Pharaoh - and his vessel, Mutou, should be coming to Egypt soon, Marik considered.  Ishizu foretells that the Ceremonial Duel will soon occur. 

After the Pharoah moved on to the afterlife, what would become of the Ishtars? Marik's clan had been waiting to assist the Pharoah in his journey for thousands of years. Once his destiny was fulfilled - then what? Where did that leave them?

It leaves us to lead normal lives, finally, Rishid had said, earlier today. He seemed to be looking forward to it. Marik wasn't so sure. It wasn't easy to spend years despising a man and plotting to kill him, committing acts of thievery and violence at the head of a criminal gang, and then turn around and be....normal. 

Marik was walking through a quaint open air market - the same one he'd stumbled through as a child, on his first day on the surface world. He still remembered how strange but beautiful it had felt, to feel the sun on his face and the sand under his feet, to see and hear so many people, when he was used to only seeing his family, and the darkness of the tomb. Now a grown man, he had seen many sights more splendid than this. But, his eyes still misted when he thought of how Ishizu had snuck him out, that first time. 

She was always a good sister, he thought to himself. And how did I repay her? By running away, and threatening to do her harm if she pursued me. I have much to atone for. 

He had done harm to young Yugi Mutou's friends, as well. He had kidnapped them, and seized control of their minds. They would surely accompany the Pharoah when he came to Egypt to fulfill his destiny. He could not blame them if they looked at him with eyes of hate. 

He was thinking of all he'd done while in Japan....the games he had played, the  people he had hurt, and the one man, that he had loved. And then suddenly he was there.

That long, white hair. The clearly Japanese features of his host, when everyone else in the crowd was Middle Eastern or African. That beaten up black coat that he always wore. 

"Bakura!" Marik cried, and tore off running, after the man. They'd been allies in Battle City, plotting together to defeat the Pharaoh. At first, Bakura had clearly only coveted Marik's Millennium Rod. But as time went on, their relationship had become....more than that. And on the blimp where the tournament finals were held, in the darkness of Marik's room, before the final battle had commenced, they had become lovers. 

A night so passionate.....Marik refused to believe that it had meant nothing to the Spirit of the Ring. But after that, everything had changed. Marik had discovered that the Pharaoh did not kill his father, as Shaadi had led him to believe. His father's blood was instead on his own hands, and he'd created a whole other personality to conceal that truth from himself. The shock of this revelation had sent Marik reeling. He had done his Tombkeeper duty, and shown the Pharaoh the markings on his back. But, after that, he had returned to Egypt with his siblings, deeply uncertain of his future. 

But, one thing he was certain of: he still yearned for Yami Bakura. His co-conspirator, his equal in dueling, the best lay of his life. What was he doing here?

"Bakura, slown down!" Marik cried, catching up to the pale haired man, and seizing him by the wrist. The Spirit turned to him, and smirked.

"Hello, Marik. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Why have you come here?" Marik demanded. 

"I think, deep down, you know," Bakura said, his red eyes staring into Marik's violet ones. 

For a second, Marik thought, to be with me, but he knew that was wishful thinking. "The Pharaoh is coming to Egypt soon," Marik realized. "You've come here to kill him." 

"You may have abandoned your plot against the Pharaoh," Bakura nodded, "but my goals remain the same as they were the day you met me." 

"To get revenge," Marik guessed. "In Battle City, that was what we both wanted. But, you never really explained to me, what it was that you sought vengeance for. What did the Pharaoh do to you?" 

Bakura wrenched his wrist from Marik's grip, and backed away from him. "I have been carrying this grudge for three thousand years," he confessed. "I won't let some teenage boy who suddenly wants  to be a goody two shoes stand in my way." 

"I didn't say that I was going to stop you," Marik muttered. Perhaps they should be discussing this elsewhere, away from prying eyes. 

"Does that mean," Bakura asked, his lip beginning to curl upwards, "that you're going to help me? I thought you'd switched sides." 

"I'm on my own side," Marik insisted. "I'm not sure yet what I'm going to do, because I'm not sure what you're plotting, or what your reasons are. I want to hear your explanation, before I do anything."

Bakura raised an eyebrow.

"Besides," Marik admitted, "if I said I was going to try and stop you, you would probably kill me." 

"I would hate to have to kill you," Bakura chuckled. "I am rather fond of you, after all." Marik blushed, in spite of himself. "Can we go somewhere more quiet, so we can talk this over?" 

"I think I know just the place," Bakura said, and began walking off into the distance, towards the desert. "Follow me." %%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%% They wandered past the outskirts of the city, towards the Pyramids, and the tombs where Marik had grown up. They traversed over sandy dunes in umcomfortable silence for what seemed like hours. 

"Where are we going?" Marik asked finally. "Are you sure you're not lost?"

"I was born here, just like you," Bakura reminded. "A very long time ago." 

"In the days when the Pharaoh, and the first owner of my Rod, walked the earth," Marik nodded. 

"He was a right bastard," Bakura huffed.

"Who?" Marik blinked. "Set, the Pharoah's high priest," Bakura explained.

"That was the original Rod wielder's name?" Marik blinked. 

"Didn't your clan teach you the Millennium Items' history?" Bakura questioned.

"I was always a poor student," Marik confessed. He'd rather be running through the torch lit hallways with Rishid, playing games. Father always scolded him for neglecting his studies. 

"What exactly did they tell you, about where the Items came from?" Bakura demanded, a strange look on his face. 

"The Pharaoh and his priests wielded the Millennium Items to protect the kingdom," Marik recalled from his lessons. 

"Protect it from whom?" Bakura questioned. 

"From evildoers," Marik shrugged. "Father always said he would tell me the whole story when I came of age. But he.....met his end when I was still a child." 

"The enemy the Millennium Item holders were fighting against," Bakura confessed, "was me." 

Marik stopped in his tracks, almost slamming into Bakura, who was walking in front of him. It tripped him out, truthfully, that the man who had ridden on the back of his motorcycle, kissed him on an airship, played cutting edge holographic card games with him, was a three thousand year old spirit, who had lived and died while the Pyramids were still being built. 

"I killed them," Bakura continued, his tone cold and unrepentant. "I was responsible for the death of Karim, who wielded the Millennium Scales, and Shada, who wielded the Millennium Key. And, of course, Mahad, the original owner of this Ring." He looked down at the glittering gold of the Millennium Item around his neck. 

"The Tombkeepers watched over the Scales and the Key all my life," Marik recalled. He didn't like to think about his childhood this much. "The Ring....I remember we had it in our possession, when I was young. One day, Father was spitting with rage. He said some treasure hunter - a foreigner - had stolen it." 

"My host's father," Bakura nodded. "Bakura Rokuro." 

Marik was not sure it had truly hit him, until this moment, that the face and body before his eyes, which he had kissed and touched not so long ago, did not really belong to the spirit he was speaking to. His real body must be buried, mummified, under these sands somewhere. 

"Bakura is not even your real name," Marik realized. "But the name of your host."  

"Yes, Bakura Ryou is simply my vessel," the Spirit of the Ring nodded. "When all this is over...he will wake up confused. He won't know where he is, or who you are. Try to ensure that he makes it back to Domino City in one piece." 

"Does that mean that 'when all this is over'....you won't be coming back?" Marik frowned. 

"Once my thirst for revenge has been slaked, at last," Bakura replied, "my spirit will be at peace, and then, I suppose I can rest."

"In the afterlife?" Marik guessed. 

"Where else would a ghost go?" Bakura chuckled. 

"Aren't you worried what will happen when your heart is weighed against the feather of Ma'at?" Marik worried. "Don't you fear judgement for your sins?"

"Do you fear judgement for yours?" Bakura asked. The question pierced Marik like a knife. 

"I can't judge you for your crimes," Marik sighed. "In Battle City....I wouldn't have cared if Katsuya had drowned, or that safe had fallen on Mazaki and crushed her. Or if Pandora's legs had been sliced off by that saw. Or if Hikari no Kamen and Yami no Kamen had fallen off that building to their deaths....."

"Thankfully," Bakura chuckled, "the Pharaoh helped all your foolish pawns escape with their lives." 

"What did the Pharaoh do to you?" Marik asked again. "I've realized...I don't anything about you at all. Bakura isn't even your real name. What did they call you, in your mortal life?" 

"Most knew me as the Thief King," the Spirit of the Ring revealed.

"That's not a name," Marik pointed out. "That's a title." 

"My true name doesn't matter," Bakura shrugged. "I will not exist in this modern world much longer anyway, after my plan is complete."

"What are you planning?" Marik demanded, his voice raising. "Why did you come back to me, just to leave me again?" 

"I want you to know the truth about who I was," Bakura explained. "There is no soul left in this world who remembers the Thief King. The Pharaoh is the only person I once knew who still walk this earth - and he has no memory of who I am, or why I despise him. When he regains his memories, his time on this plane will end. They say you only live as long as people remember you. And you, Marik Ishtar, are perhaps the only person on Earth who will remember me with fondness." 

"I'll miss you," Marik admitted. "I was hoping you and I could be together again." 

"I wish that could be," Bakura said, his voice full of passion as he looked into Marik's eyes. "I wish I could be your lover, like I was before." He leaned in close, and his lips touched Marik's. Desire coursed through the Tombkeeper's body, and soon his hands were in the Spirit's long hair, pulling him closer, desperate.

Reluctantly, Bakura pulled away. "But, this cannot be," he sighed. "I do not belong in the land of the living. My spirit lingers here for one purpose - my vengeance." 

Marik understood this. He had desired vengeance against the Pharaoh for many years, and that  misguided goal had driven all of his actions. Now, he felt adrift, without the mission that had motivated him for so long. 

"You wielded the power of the Millennium Rod, when you sought your vengeance," Bakura recalled. "But, do you know where the power of the Millennium Items comes from?" 

"Dark magic," Marik guessed.

"The darkest kind," Bakura agreed. "The kind that comes from the most evil and heinous of rituals." 

Marik blinked in the bright desert sun, confused. He and his clan had been watching over the Millennium Items for centuries, waiting for the Pharaoh's return. But, in all his studies, he was never taught how the Items had been created. 

"Human sacrifice," Bakura revealed, staring down at the Ring around his neck. "The blood and bones and souls of an entire village were melted down with the gold, imbuing them with cursed power." 

Marik gasped, horrified. He realized then where Bakura had brought him. They were standing on the ruins of an ancient city. Broken columns and shells of buildings, half-buried in the sand, were all that remained of the once-populous village. 

"This is all that's left of Kul Elna," Bakura explained, gesturing at the remnants. They looked like an archeological site. "The village that was massacred by the Pharaoh to create the Millennium Items. My village."

Marik's hand went to his mouth. He had endured horrors in his lifetime - hieroglyphics carved painfully into his unwilling back. An evil alter ego arising from the trauma of patricide. Horrible things - but none quite as horrible as witnessing a genocide. 

"I'm so sorry, Thief King," he said, putting an arm around his lover.

Bakura backed away from his touch. "I don't need your shoulder to cry on," he laughed. "I only need the Pharoah's suffering and death, as retribution for the suffering and death of my family." 

Marik's eyes widened, unsure of what to say. He, too, had once wished "suffering and death" upon the Pharaoh. But, now he regretted his actions. 

"I am not some victim, who deserves your sympathy," Bakura confessed. "I am a thief, and a stealer of souls. I killed the masters of the Ring, Key, and Scales, and I felt no remorse. I am responsible for the death of Isis, as well, who wielded the Millennium Necklace. Her soul seems to have returned in this century, as your sister. No wonder she despises me." 

"Why are you tellling me this?" Marik asked, feeling uneasy.

"I'm letting you know all my flaws now," Bakura explained, "so you could love me better, or leave me quicker."

"You want my love?" Marik said, confused. "I thought you only wanted your revenge." 

"I want to be with you, one last time, before my soul rests," Bakura said, looking desperately into Marik's eyes. "One more night in your beautiful arms, before I condemn myself to Hell. Is that too much to ask?" 

Marik reddened. He wanted this man, that much was true. He'd yearned for another taste of his touch since he left Domino City. And yet....

"But you're on the side of the angels now," Bakura chuckled. "Or at least, men who think they are angels. They assume that theirs is the just side. You and your family promised to help them, right? The Pharaoh, and his vessel, Yugi Mutou, and his friends." 

"Yes," Marik admitted. "When they come to Egypt, Ishizu and I are supposed to help them restore the Pharaoh's name and memories, and commence the Ceremonial Duel."

"When they come to Egypt," Bakura said plainly, "I am going to play a Shadow Game with the Pharaoh, and I am going to make him pay. I will be doing my best to prevent him from recovering his name - the task you say you plan to help him with. And I do not care whatsoever if the Pharaoh's friends - who now seem to consider you their ally  - are caught in the crossfire." 

"Why reveal your plan to me?" Marik asked. "Why not lie?"

"I want to know if you will leave me, knowing what kind of  man I am," Bakura confided. "I want to know if you will try and stop me. Will you warn young Mutou-san that I'm after his so-called yami? Will you try and protect the Pharaoh, who, as a Tombkeeper, you're sworn to serve?" 

"I don't hate the Pharaoh anymore," Marik said, uncertainly. "But, I do still love you, even knowing your true nature. I cannot stop my heart from loving you, or my body from wanting you, regardless of the flaws you confess to me. I will not 'leave you quicker'. I want to stay with you until the end." 

"You can stay with me all night long," Bakura whispered seductively. "One last, blissful night- but, come morning, the Pharaoh's plane will arrive in Cairo, and I will do what I have waited to do for three millennia."

"I won't stop you," Marik decided. "I will send the Pharoah to the place he is destined to go, fulfilling my role as a Tombkeeper. Once he gets there.....whether he wins your game, or you do....that is up to the Gods." 

"You wielded the power of the Gods once," Bakura recalled.

"Yes," Marik sighed. "But, I have long since surrendered my Winged Dragon of Ra to the Pharaoh."

"He will use it against me in our duel," Bakura predicted. "You have made my coming battle much harder to win." 

"My other self used Ra to defeat you in Battle City," Marik remembered. 

"Well, that's your other self," Bakura shrugged. "I carry a grudge against him, not you." "He's gone now," Marik said seriously. "For good this time." 

"I wanted you to regain control of your body," Bakura confessed. "Not simply because I wanted your Millennium Rod, but because I wanted what was best for you."

"You tried to help me win control of myself back," Marik nodded. "I will always be grateful to you for that, Thief King." 

"I have spent millennia haunting this Ring, waiting for my final faceoff with the Pharaoh," Bakura said thoughtfully. "And tomorrow, I will have it. But, I never expected that I would find someone who I cared for. It is, at last, my time to settle the score, and  leave this plane - but I wish I did not have to leave you, Marik.”

"I won't leave you until I have to," Marik promised. "I'll give you my love, and I'll give you tonight, and I won't regret it." 

"Even though, when morning light comes, I'll set off to kill your king?" 

"I wish you could stay," Marik sighed. "I wish you could be mine forever. But, perhaps, when I die, our souls will be reunited, on the other side of the Du'at."

"Then may Osiris have mercy on our wicked souls," Bakura laughed, and kissed Marik again. For now, his soul still resided in Bakura Ryou's body - and that body would know no sleep tonight.