#he has done nothing wrong in his life ever

[josephquinnswhore]

the consequence of us

dbf! joel miller x female reader

summary: joel broke off your affair two weeks ago, and now he realises he’s made a grave mistake.

word count: 3.4K

content warning: age gap, joel is old enough to be her dad, reader is mid twenties but unspecified. Reader has cellulite, mentions of power play, Joel’s a bit of a creep lmao, possessive, obsessive behaviour, use of baby girl & daddy dynamic. Collaring, male masterbation, p in v, raw fucking, creampie, sorta rough sex, public sex, submission. (no outbreak)

Everyone has felt the eerie sensation once in their lifetime, the paranoid feeling of being stared at; only this time, you know you're being stared at. Everytime you bend down to pick up a discarded beer can off your fathers perfectly mowed lawn, with each soft handed gesture on one of your fathers older friends arms, every laugh that seemed a little too real.

But it was your intention, for him to notice you. Perhaps to show him that you could indeed live without him, despite the fact that two weeks ago, on his front porch you'd been weeping, grasping onto him as you beg him not to break things off with you.

The shameful memory of snot and tears mingling as you sobbed on your knees for another chance, like you’d even done anything wrong. Clinging onto the small silver chain he'd gifted you - a subtle everyday collar, one he’d promised with the intention of making you his, properly.

That someday he would make you his girl officially.

This evening, it seemed as though that girl had never existed, maybe it was all a figment of his imagination, of how he saw you, and wanted you to be. A sweet little girl dependent on him.

Joel had managed with teeth scraping against his bottom lip that this was for the best, that a sweet girl like you didn't need him invading your personal life, or that this was wrong, for a man twenty years older than you–let alone the fact that he was your fathers best friend.

Now as he watches you standing next to your fathers friends, with a middle aged woman on his arm, he feels sick to his stomach. You should be doing this with him, the shameless flirting, touching and sneakily bending over for him when no one else seemed to notice. It's like now, you didn't care who saw. Any attention was yours for the taking, and that repulsed joel.

The sweet girl he knew wasn't some attention starved daddies girl dying to fuck every single one of his colleagues and friends, Joel was special, had been.

What was this then, revenge? An attempt to outshine the woman he had on his arm that was closer to sixty than he was. No doubt, his date–Sue. She was beautiful, but she was too outgoing, too loud, too chatty. She drank too many glasses of wine and clung onto joel like he was some kind of prized show dog. Much like that mangy purse mutt she had at her house. Joel didn't belong with Sue, in her middle class house and aggressive teacup chihuahua.

The only place he had ever felt himself belong was with you, a subservient, submissive and sweet girl, did anything Joel had ever asked, found pleasure in being submissive. Maybe he did ruin you, turned you into some kind of modern day sexually aware woman that knew that she was too good for him anymore.

Once again, you're bending over to reach into the large cooler in your fathers shed not bothering to pull down your dress, Joel's eyes were drawn to the sight like a hound. He felt himself growing stiff at the sight of your asscheeks barely covered by the tight dress, each curve, hill and cellulite dimple could be seen leaving nothing to the imagination besides one thing.

What colour panties were you wearing?

“Excuse me a moment, won't you?” He utters to sue under his breath, prying her clinging arm off of his own and approaching you across the lawn, swerving between guests. Before he could reach you, you've left the shed, three cans of drink in hand as you hand them out to your father and two of his friends.

Joel scowls, snatching a cold can out of the cooler and watching you shamelessly across the front yard. He couldn't stop staring at you, your legs, the way your hips swing with every step. It was a fucking nightmare knowing that he had done this, created this confident vixen hell bent on torturing him. He couldn't grab at you, swiftly text you to steal you away for a few minutes for a quickie in the bathroom.

He had ended this, told you it was for good, for real this time.

You know he hasn't been able to take his eyes off of you, and finding your stomach, you approach his date later on in the evening after she's had a few drinks and is standing by her lonesome. “Hi, we haven't met, have we? You're Susan?”

The older woman greets you with a look of complete indifference, a non subtle judging stare in her olden glassy eyes as she gives you a look up and down. “Sue, actually, and you are?”

You reply with your name, giving her a sickly sweet and fake smile, standing tall and rolling your shoulders backwards, ready to cause some strife for the old hag. “So.. you're Joel’s.. what exactly..?”

The disbelief in your tone had the woman feeling insulted, and the stiff look of her face gave that away. She seemed incredibly insecure, you noticed the way she had clung onto Joel since they got here. “We’ve been talking for a while, I’ve heard he's going to ask me to be his girlfriend soon.”

A small snort escapes your nose, and before the woman could drill into you about your reaction..

“Oh you know.. He's just not that good with relationships you know? Totally a ladies man, he likes ‘em young–or younger than you, anyway. So don't hope too much that Joel even likes you at all..anyway, it was so lovely meeting you.”

You hear the woman huff loudly as you abruptly turn and walk away, knowing that you caused an absolute shit fire for Joel to deal with tonight, but you didn't expect Sue to start screaming at Joel the moment you walked away from her.

He sends a glare to you, across the yard, his eyes dark and furious. You were the cause of this, he knew it. As Sue screams at him, he drags her away, down the street.

It's a while before Joel returns, but he comes back alone, explaining to your father what happened. “She's having a moment, probably menopause or something.”

That was hilarious to you, and Joel catches you laughing, beelining straight to you. He grabs your hand, which you shake off, and he doesn't attempt to make another effort to grab you.

“The hell was that? Are you gonna start causing issues for me now?”

With a faux innocent tilt of your head you shrug your shoulders. “I'm sorry, I was just being honest with her, is honesty a problem now, Mr Miller?”

He shouldn't have gotten hard over such a minor thing, being called Mr Miller instead of Joel, that doe-ish look in your eyes as you look up at him, he cant help the stiffness in his jeans return again. Of course you notice the tension, the way he becomes uncomfortable, but you don't dignify him by looking at the thick bulge in his pants, not bothering to show any interest at all.

That.. is what bothers Joel the most. Your disinterest.

His eyes are glued to your every step as you walk away, he subtly palms himself through his jeans and makes his way inside of the house with the intent to wash his face and try to calm down the raging hardness of his cock, but when he smells your perfume in the bathroom.. He loses any sense of control he thought he had.

It was the same perfume you'd spritzed onto your skin before sneaking out to see him all those times, the floral scent lingering on your warm velvety neck. He locks the bathroom door behind him, looking at himself in the mirror. “Get a grip, Miller. She's done with you, you're done with her.”

He quickly contradicts his hollow whisper as he picks up a pair of used black panties on the top of the laundry basket, ones he knew were yours, the soft lace g-string, with a silver love heart on the front, covered in small diamonds, ones he had pulled to the side more times to fuck your hole than he could remember.

It's a desperate and shameful act, he knows, but doesn’t care. He desperately unzips his jeans and pulls out his thick, weeping cock from his jeans, stroking desperately. The other hand holds your panties and he looks at himself as he brings the lace material to his nose and smells it. They're used, and he pulls his cock faster as he shoves the material further into his face, a wet patch on your panties is all he can feel.

The smell of you has him groaning into the lace, desperately fisting his cock faster than he ever had. His knees buckle and he whimpers quietly as he starts sucking on the delicious soaking crotch of your panties as he doubles over the sink and spills a thick load, shooting across the basin.

Joel's sweating, taking one last inhale of your panties, before tossing them back into the laundry hamper, stuffing his softening cock into his jeans before turning on the tap to wash away any evidence of the violating act. He cups his hands under the running water and splashes some onto his face.

As he swings the bathroom door open, you're standing there with a shit eating grin. “All good in there?”

“Fine,” he utters, wondering if you knew, he couldn't meet your gaze after what he’d just done.

Fuck, you were evil for making him like this.

By midnight, everyone had gone home, stumbled off down the cul de sac to their houses, but you don't see Joel leave, which is strange. With your father inside of the house, and the lights shut off, you sneak out of the yard with your phone in hand, texting your friend with the intention of going to her house to drink, walking down the pathway down the street to where your car is parked.

Oblivious, you reach your car and are shocked to see Joel, leaning against the driver's side door. “Where do you think you’re going?” The growl sends a shiver up your spine, a feeling you miss.

“Out,” Joel towers over you as he stands upright, no longer leaning against your car.

“Like hell you are.” There's an edge of possessiveness to his tone, and the way he stands over you. “You need to explain yourself, all that shit you've been doing tonight.”

“I don't have to explain shit–” he cuts you off, his hand shoots out quickly to grab onto your hand. But you react without thinking and slap him.

His eyes snap shut from the force of your hand on his cheek, your hand now stinging from the contact. When he opens his eyes, his gaze is darker than before. He wraps his arms around your waist, grabbing a hold of you as he shoves you roughly against the side of your car door, you wince as your back makes contact with the cold metal. He stands flush against you, whispering in your ear as he cranes his neck downward.

“Careful. You shouldn't start something’ you can't finish baby girl.”

“I’m not your baby girl.”

God-if only you knew how much that struck a nerve within him. “Don't start that.” His voice is harsh, fingers digging tighter into the soft flesh of your chin.

“You're nothing to me.” You insist.

He bit back, his temper flailing. “Yeah? You really tryin’ to convince me that I ain't anythin’ to you, baby girl? That you don't care no more?” His thumb grips your chin harshly, jolting your neck up to look into his eyes.

There's a challenging look in your eyes, defiance, no sign of the devotion or submission he's so used to with you, he really has ruined you.

“Move Joel.”

He knew if he could just manage to get a peep out of you, a small whine or a moan out of you, that he could draw you back into him. His hand trails downward to your nipples, pinching softly, he knew it was such a sensitive area for you, which usually had your back arching.

You should have reacted, whimpered and squirmed or let out a small whine from those pretty lips that he was so used to hearing when he touched you like this. But you gave him nothing, no reaction at all, how did he let this happen? “Why the hell are you bein’ like this? Why are you fightin’’ me so hard?”

“Because I realised something, Joel.” Stepping forward, you bring your hand down to his belt, grabbing onto the buckle.

“And what is it that you think you have figured out?”

“It’s you who needs me.”

He couldn't even deny it, how his stomach felt sick at the thought of you knowing. That somehow you knew that this went beyond physical for him too. When he's silent, you roughly shove him away by the buckle of his belt. Stumbling a few feet back, he hated how weak he felt right now.

“You’re old, Joel. You love how it feels to have someone so much younger to pine over you, that's why things won't last with that old cunt, sue. Part of you needs me, joel, that why you were so fucking insistent on pushing me away.”

He freezes at your observation, words that are sharp, and true. Gritting his teeth, with his chest rising and falling, all he could do was breathe heavily.

“But me? I have options, time too. To find someone who would be proud to show me off. But you won't, you’re scared Joel, and it's because you're insecure.”

He feared this, thinking about you with men your own age, how they threw themselves at you, fit and capable of taking you out and giving you everything you ever wanted. Joel was selfish for wanting you all to himself, for craving you, obsessing and unable to let you move on. Because as long as even a part of you still wanted him, he was worth something. The grey hairs didn't matter, nor did his softening belly or the developing ache in his worn knees.

He hated how much he needed you.

You grip his chin, the salt and pepper scruff tickles your palm. Forcing him to look at you. “Say it Joel.”

His entire body tenses as you try to force the admission out of him, try to cut him open and deflower his tightly wound emotions. “Stop it.” He growls weakly, voice strained.

“Admit it!” You shout at him.

Every part of him begged for him to let go of this stubborn defiance and tell you how he felt, that he felt afraid, even though all he'd known was keeping you at arm's length. “Stop!”

With another harsh shove, you growl. “Just admit it!”

“Admit what? That I'm insecure, that I’m afraid of losing you? That every moment all I can think about is you, how much I fucking love you? What are you tryin’ to get out of me, huh?”

As his chest heaves, he can't help spilling out how he felt now, you broke the dam. “I worry that you'll find some other man to love you, touch you. That you'll come to your senses and realise you need someone your own age who is better able to take care of you.”

“So you broke my heart? That's how you face those fears?”

“The hell was I supposed to do?” With a defensive snap, he hated the weakness he felt now that you’d expelled the truth.

When you don't have an answer Joel is becoming more desperate for you to feel something for him, to let him know that there's still some space in your heart for him after all hed done.”Baby girl..” he whimpers, voice cracking with emotion..

“Don’t,” you protest weakly.

Joel realises that you don’t need him like this, all self doubting, you need your daddy.

He cages your body between his own and the car. “Too damn bad, because I’m touchin you, you ain’t rejectin’ me, you ain't gonna ignore me.” He leans his head down to your level. “And you sure as shit aint ever fucking leavin’ me.”

As he slams his hips against yours, finally a pathetically small whimper leaves your lips.

There it was, you were giving into him, that pretty sound he hadn't heard from you in weeks. “There's my pretty girl,” he whispers against the soft flesh of your neck.

“Don't fight me baby girl..” his lips on your neck have your back arching away from the car, leaning flush against Joel’s chest, but he doesn't want you to have any semblance of control. Roughly, he spins you around and shoves your body against the car, his chest flush against your back.

His hands unzip his jeans, pulling out his thick cock for a second time this evening, lifting your dress up to find you weren't wearing any panties at all, his eyes barely able to process the sight of your bare sopping cunt under the haphazard dim street light. “You knew what you were doin’ to me baby, wearing this tight dress and no panties.”

The palm of his hand smacks your wet lips, using the slick to coat his cock as he pumps it a few times.

His cock is thicker than you remember and you whine at the protrusion, forcing his cock inside of you as he forces you against the side of your car. A yelp leaves your lips and he quickly covers your mouth with his large hand. “Shh baby girl.. Daddy is gonna take you in the middle of the street, as a punishment for your actions. Don't want nobody to hear, do we?”

Frantically, you shake your head no, and he shakily praises you. “That's a good girl.”

Without any warning at all, he slams his cock into you, pushing your face into the car as he rams into you ferociously, fucking into you so deep that your eyesight starts to blur. “Think you can leave me? No body ain’t ever gonna fuck you like I do, baby girl.”

You squeal into his hand as he fucks you harder than he ever had, proving to you and himself that he was worthy of you. As your legs begin to tremble, Joel brings his other hand to pinch your nipple, and the orgasm crashes over you in waves, the feeling is intense and your body is limp between Joel and the car. Tears leave your eyes as your cunt clenches around Joel.

Joel's muttering under his breath. “That's it baby.. Make daddy feel so good. I'll kill anyone if they ever try to take you away.”

His thick cock pushes so deep inside of you for a final time as the tip twitches and he cums inside of you. Growling into your ear as his forehead rests on your shoulder.

Hesitant to pull out, he thrusts a few more times into you, making sure most of his cum stays inside you.

Pulling your dress down, he stuffs his cock back into his jeans and turns you around, wiping the steady tears off your cheeks. “Now go on back inside, alright? We’re going on a date tomorrow, a real one. Take you to a fancy place where we’ll sit down an’ eat. Just us. Daddy ain’t gonna leave you again, so that means you start wearin’ your collar again.”

Numbly, you nod, unable to form coherent words after the encounter. Pleased, he kisses your forehead, then gives your ass a light pat to send you on your way back inside your house. He stalks you down the street, making sure you get home safely, before retreating into his own house.

He watches you from his bedroom window as you turn on the dim lamp, and put on your silver collar just as he’d asked. He had his baby back, hell would freeze over before anything came between you, if your father found out.. Joel would handle him when it came to that.

No matter what that entails.

[dragons-stories-hoard]

Okay but I don't think it should be day one of Merlin being in Camelot, cause then frankly nothing is stopping Morgana from going all game of thrones on Uther and Arther.

Might I suggest, they come back when they're kids? Hear me out. Morgana may have been messed up and evil but even she wasn't going around killing squishy baby-faced ten year Olds. So she's going to hesitate at trying to kill Arthur because he's a child, and vice versa for Arthur and co seeing Morgana. Plus none of them have the strength (in body or magic) to start challenging Uther for the throne so they can instigate chamge, but theres time where they cant change much but they can think and plan for the future. So they have time to deal with their feelings at seeing old enemies again but they're friends still. (None realize they aren't the only one who time traveled). Maybe it's soon after Morgana moved to Camelot, so her sudden anger at Uther and temper can be attributed to a grieving child.

Arthur and Gwen both know how Morgana turns evil so they're looking out for signs of her magic and hey look at that she's being given sleeping draughts even as a young child. And they realize Uther would still kill this baby-faced Morgana if he knew, and they know how her fear of him turned her to hate everyone. They see their friend as a scared grieving child and want to change her fate. So they start trying to assure her without directly letting her know about the magic. Meanwhile Morgana is seeing Arthur stand up to his father on her behalf, and promising her he will protect her even from Uther if he has to. And she can't remember if he'd done that before, thinks maybe she forgot in all her fear and anger. And she has time to realize she may have had reason to fear but she never did give Gwen and Arthur a chance to be good. She was the one who turned on them first.

MEANWHILE Merlin has much better control of his magic because he already has so much knowledge of the old religion and it's language from the previous life. He works harder on controlling and improving his magic and skills from a young age. He is determined to fight fate and save everyone so he needs to be better stronger more knowledgeable. He starts taking trips to the druids under the guise of "taking goods from the village to trade" (he does trade but keeps the fact that it's with druids to himself and maybe Will since he'd want to come with his friend sometimes). He learns from books and people he had no chance to learn from before, building on his knowledge. He looks into death magic and high priestesses, knowing Nimueh will eventually target him and Arthur and Gaius and his mother. He thinks ahead to ways to keep Lancelots sacrifice from happening or even ways to bring someone back from the veil without tearing it if he must. He thinks of Elyan and looks into ways to heal unhealable wounds, thinks of Morgana and plans to kill Morgause before she can put the spell on the kingdom and use Morgana as the center. He looks up obscure poisons and remedies, looks for Protective enchantments and healing spells he can layer into the knights armor and clothes the second he sees them again. He takes time to hunt down traffickers and cage fighting rings to destroy them before Lancelot or Gwaine ever have a chance to be forced into fights to the death again. He looks for rumors of the last dragonlord so he can free Kilgarrah and hatch Aithusa without Leon ever having to be revived from the flames.

Due to his frequent travels, whichever of the wandering knights try to find their young friend early think they got the wrong village whenever they arrive in Ealdor. (Gwen Arthur and Morgana are the only ones who went before amd they don't exactly have a reasonable excuse to go there to see their friend now. They have to wait).

I bet Elyan was first to try to find Merlin early. He was closest and he started his travels pretty early, thinks he can suggest Merlin start the apprenticeship sooner but he can't seem to find Merlins village (he found it but Merlin was away learning death magic or whatever). However this time on his travels Elyan stays in touch with his family, returns occasionally to help with the forge, tries to talk his sister out of getting a job at the castle to her confusion (she's stubborn and by then is determined to stop Morgana from turning evil due to fear so she does not take this well).

Leon sees Uthers reign, remembers Arthur's and how much better it was amd how much happier he had been with all of Arthur's changes, and he starts subtly backing Arthur more. Talking Arthur's suggestions up to Uther, giving Arthur support earlier. He's Arthur's knight before Uthers this time around and he is disgusted by some of Uthers choices having seen the consequences. Having seen a better way of living.

Percival keeps hearing rumors of the fabled Emrys being alive, making moves, accessing powerful magics. He lives near and was partially raised by druids, so he hears these whispers and with future insight is able to piece together Arthur is the OAFK. He starts training.

Lancelot honestly knows the least of them (he died first man) so he's just gonna show up to Camelot earlier than before and do his best to support his friends and keep Arthur and Merlin alive.

Gwaine saw the sorcerer saving Camelots troops in that final battle, and he never had strong opinions about magic before but now he thinks about it and realizes if they allowed magic it would save so many lives. Hell, it would remove so many enemies. And he's always had a rather pushy relationship with Arthur so he can manage to nudge him towards being okay with magic without crossing the line and making Arthur think he's gonna commit treason. Plus he'd love to see young awkward child Merlin (sadly he also arrives in Ealdor while Merlin is away, probably learning to shape-shift or smt).

So when Merlin finally realizes it's time to head to Camelot, he tells his mother he wishes to apprentice with his uncle to learn medicine (she felt he was able to hide his gifts this time and didn't feel the need to send him away to protect him). He arrives amd when all the knights of the round table end up arriving much sooner than before he assumes it's ripple effects of all the stuff he'd been doing with the druids and his self imposed quests. Leon, Gwen, Arthur and Morgana just assume they did something to affect some policy of Uthers so they shrug off any changes as well. I think Lancelot is the only one who's really confused/concerned with all the shifts because it's making it harder for him to help Merlin dammit.

I think Gwaine, Percival, Leon and Elyan never got the chance to find out about Merlins magic but the others did so everyone is working off different levels of knowledge and it's chaos cause they all assume they know more than everyone else.

Merlin is so used to working alone he's hiding his magic from everyone and he's losing so much sleep trying to deal with threats before they come near his people but the others are GOING NEAR THE THREATS ITS FINE. At least they're more prone to believe him this time and less fond of >insert villain of the week<

The others are remembering almost these threats like "Jesus Christ how did this get solved last time?" Everyone is trying to keep Merlin from drinking the poisoned chalice, Leon is ready to go searching for the flower himself or go with Arthur or hell, even ready to sneak into the dungeons to talk to Arthur to get the flower for Merlin himself (everyone is a lot angrier at Uther for his refusal to allow anyone to get the flower to save Merlin despite him not knowing its anything but a simple task, even Morgana who is hesitant/still kinda mad at Merlin is pissed) (this makes her think on Merlins POV more because frankly if she was scared to reveal her magic, of course Merlin would be. He had even less protections, Uther was okay with allowing him to die when he thought Merlin had saved his son AGAIN.) So maybe she is a bit sympathetic to the man who killed her. Who was once her friend. Because she's seeing how much bullshit he had to deal with in keeping Arthur alive and now she knows he has magic she's realizing he was the one protecting her and Arthur and the kingdom long before she knew about her own magic. Because how else did these things get solved when it wasn't Arthur or herself (she is the first to put together just how much Merlin did for all of them tbh).

One of them walks in on Edwin (idk if that was his name the cure all ills guy) attacking Merlin and helps dispatch him while Merlin is unconscious and it scares the hell out of Merlin that they fought a sorcerer when he was out of commission, while whoever came in wad terrified at seeing/hearing Merlin Crack his skull on the wall from Edwin throwing him and seeing him lying there. They see how much danger Merlin was/is putting himself in to protect them and it scares them.

Merlin is definitely losing sleep trying to stay ahead of all the threats and his friends who keep HEADIMG TOWARDS DANGER so like. He's exhausted and his friends are seeing how tired amd clumsy he is with new eyes once they know he's the one dispatching threats when they're not looking.

Also frankly all of them are hit hard with seeing their friends so young, seeing them before everything happened. And they're all definitely way more emotional about it and I feel like as the youngest they're all so protective of this baby faced Merlin because gods above he was so small and youthful and energetic how was he ever this skinny? (It's jarring for Percival especially he didn't meet Merlin until he'd been a fighting magical threats to Camelot for a few years, and if he thought Merlin was small before he's downright concerned now). (Doesn't help Merlin is worse at taking care of himself this time) (Merlin is as cheery as he was in early seasons because hey this is when shit was easy, and the moral dilemmas were way less intense and he gets to see all his friends and Morgana isn't evil and he can protect them all this is great! He loves spending time with them when hes not working or protecting them and he will make the most of this time). (The rest of them are like wtf because they are comparing baby Merlin to end season Merlin and realizing somewhere along the way he lost that cheer and enthusiasm and they're like we gotta protect the small and they are all working themselves into protective flurries over Merlin and being so nice to him).

Not gonna write a full fic but had to get my thoughts out. This is a fun au and it would be fascinating to keep track of who knows what amd when people come back and how everyone tries to deal with threat of the week or when they each even realize "oh shit that person tried to kill me!" Cause I guarantee they didn't realize some of the threats were threats the first time around.

I think it would be insanely funny if after Arthur’s death everyone returns back in time to the place they were the day Merlin arrived in Camelot. But like, everyone thinks they are the only ones who has returned. We see it all from Merlin’s pov, who’s traumatised and wondering why the fuck Arthur is so much sweeter to him this time around and keeps saying ‘thank you’. He wonders why Lancelot shows up earlier, why all of a sudden Gwaine is there three years too early, saying he got hurt in a tavern bawl and needs a physician. He wonders why Leon keeps pretending like he didn’t just accidentally see Merlin do magic. Why Gwen keeps giving him these knowing looks. And why Morgana doesn’t seem as afraid as she used to when she was figuring out that she had magic. Everyone is trying their best to change history for the better, thinking they are alone with this duty... and then one day when uther is dead and they are sitting around the round table, merlin steps forward and is like: ‘I need to confess that I have magic, but also that I have returned from the future.’ And everyone just whips around and is like ‘YOU TOO??!’ And then they realise that they’ve all returned and wasted their time thinking they were alone.

[keferon]

TexAid - Vortex has taken First Aid as his pilot. First Aid claims Vortex as his mech.

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

There's a rumbling in the distance as First Aid crawls out the darkened hatch of Vortex's escape chute.  The hangar is a wreck of collapsed walls, twisted metal pipes, and broken wiring shooting up sparks. 

First Aid pushes himself to his feet, stands back, and uses the flashes of light to take stock of the situation. 

This is…not good. 

He counts a dozen cuts and bruises across his own aching limbs before abandoning the effort.  He is satisfied at least that he is intact, alive, and functional.  All his injuries will heal, given treatment and time. 

Time he may not have.  Because Vortex on the other hand is not so lucky – lights off, systems silent, frame crumpled on the ground.  A slow trickle of oil leaks from the mecha, swirling into one of the many pools of alien ooze scattered around Vortex's frame along with chunks of the aliens' flesh.

The battle had been fierce, Vortex's fighting the fiercest Aid had ever seen against the many enemies.  But for the first time, it hadn't been enough.  The mecha suddenly going dark – collapsing under the strain of overtaxed systems even as the last of the monster's fell.  Leaving First Aid truly alone in that cockpit of horrors for the first time.

Another rumble sounds in the distance, shaking First Aid from his reflection.

He refocuses on the present, pushing himself to his feet and stumbling towards Vortex's head.  He raps his knuckles against the glass of the visor, shouts at the mecha to wake up. 

Nothing.

Vortex has gone dark.

This is not good.  He is dead.  They are dead, if Vortex cannot wake.  Because those distant rumbles are definitely not friendly.

No human has survived fighting the aliens without a mech.  And first Aid is a medic first.  Vortex is the fighter – the killer – of their strange partnership.  First Aid doesn't know what the aliens do to the mecha and pilots that go missing from the battlefield and are never recovered.  And he doesn't intend to find out.

But he does know what the science team will do with Vortex – a billion dollar prototype gone wrong – out of control and now offline.  They will take the mecha apart, dissect him, strip him down to his basest components to find out where it all went wrong.  And when they're done, what's left will be scrap – pieces repurposed into other mecha repairs.

They might build a new prototype top-of-the-line killing machine 2.0.  But is won't be Vortex.

First Aid hates that.  Because he should hate Vortex, after all the other has put him through.  But he doesn't.  Because before all that, Vortex had saved him.  Vortex chose him – kept First Aid alive and safe, even as he's shown countless times just how easily he could destroy Aid.

And Vortex is…was…could be alive – a mecha with a consciousness all his own in a way First Aid had not believed until he experienced it first-hand.

Out of ignorance, out of fear, out of hate, or simply because of the harsh realities of war – the others will kill Vortex (if he isn't already dead; please don't be dead) and never realize what they have done, because they never recognized that he was alive to begin with.  Never saw him as anything more than a glitch, an aberration in their perfect war design.

First Aid has a duty to save lives.  He cannot – will not – let that happen.  Vortex is his.  In death as much as in life.

The rumbling grows closer, close enough First Aid can imagine he hears the slithering of tentacles along walls underneath it. 

He will not let any other – alien or human – take Vortex from him, not while he still lives.

The cables on the ground throw up another flurry of sparks – casting eerie shadows across Vortex's frame.  First Aid's eyes fixate on the light, tracing the path of the wiring from where it snakes across the floor back up to the housing on the wall.  A broken main charging cable for a mech.

Maybe…just maybe…

It's a terrible idea.  So many things could go wrong – electrocution, a gruesome death, ending up a mindless shell on life support for the rest of his days (not so different from how Vortex already is now).  Pharma or Ratchet or any other medic would tell him as much.  They would tell him that there's almost no chance of powering on a mecha once it's gone fully dark, that it isn't worth risking himself too (and particularly not for this mecha).

For anyone else that might be true, but by now First Aid is used to a little risk.  Risk of electrocution and death?  Just another average day on the job.  No different than what Vortex puts him through every time he straps into the pilot seat.  The only thing that's different now is that Aid is choosing to take the risk.

Because there is a chance.  And First Aid is going to take it.

The rubber insulation of the cable is already in his hand when he looks down, his body having carried him to it as his mid was busy shutting out the doubts every other medic would have said.

Something bangs against the collapsed wall blocking entry to the hangar, sending a shower of dust outward.

First Aid hefts the cable over his shoulder, careful to keep the sparking end far in front of him, and begins the trek across the warehouse.  His shoulder burns from the extra weight on an already stressed joint and his legs protest as he forces them to twist and jump to avoid the pools of fluid that would cause instant electrocution if they came into contact with his body and the cable.

The aches don't matter.  He is a medic.  He can carry his own weight and still have the strength to lift up others.  He can do this.  He will do this.

First Aid is gasping for breath by the time he reaches Vortex again.  His sides ache, lungs burning with each breath.  He mentally adds checking for the possibility of bruised ribs to his catalogue of injuries, then shoves the pain aside to focus fully on Vortex's frame.

First Aid eyes the power node at the back of the mecha's neck and before he can think twice, shoves the broken power cable into it.  Sparks fly around the junction and Vortex's frame jolts, lights flickering briefly, then stills.  First Aid pulls the cable away, then hits Vortex again.  And again.  And again.  Lights flicker.  Sparks fly.  Dust showers around First Aid.  Electricity jolts through Vortex's frame.

"Come on," First Aid mutters as Vortex's lights stay on a full second after he pulls the cable away before stuttering out again.

He takes a deep breath and throws the cable directly into the center of Vortex's chest, where the mecha's primary batter is housed.  Sparks fly across Vortex's frame, lights flicker, flash bright white, then stabilize to a dim red glow.

First Aid's momentary relief shatters as Vortex moves and he feels a gust of air from a cold metal blade passing just over his head.  There's a dull thunk, and then fluid is pouring down on First Aid, coating him in a thick sludge of blood from the alien that First Aid reckons was looming just behind him, judging by the bright green eyeball that falls from above to land in a spatter at his feet.

First Aid looks up at Vortex looming over him, gloving red light pouring out from the maw of the cockpit and laughs, shaking hysterically as a hand reaches down to scoop him up from the ground.

They are alive.  He is Vortex's.  Vortex is his.  They are alive.

D-dont. Don't make me even more feral about them than I already am. Don't. I was GOING TO SLEEP BUT NOW MY BRAIN WON'T STOP WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME HOW AM I GONNA PRETEND TO BE NORMAL NOW WH

[lafaiette]

So, the localization file of Veilguard was found thanks to datamining, and it contains Some Stuff about Solas, Solavellan, and some cut ending stuff.

No idea if these lines were cut because of budget/resource reasons, if they are old scraps left of Joplin or if the writers simply changed their minds. Please keep in mind they are in jumbled order/there are different responses, probably due to different choices and the dialogue wheel.

Under the cut because of spoilers.

Solas and Fen'Harel

"I must hold back the blight! My wolf will distract Elgar'nan while you take the dragon!" "Did I see that right? The Dread Wolf is a separate spirit from Solas?" "Nice. Why does he get to be part wolf?" "Yeah. Seems like Fen'Harel is a merging of the two."

It seems like Solas and his wolf self are two separate spirits - perhaps similar to Falon'Din and Dirthamen, who are confirmed to be the same spirit who split into two different aspects.

Final dialogue with Solas (Solavellan edition)

"The blight is its prison. The world is safe." "Until the Veil collapses, and demons kill thousands of people." "If there were another way…" "There [i]is[/i]. Let the Veil stay in place." "The elven people must be restored. They do not deserve what was done to them." "Neither did the Titans." "Neither did Mythal. Either time." "Those are my mistakes. Only I can correct them." "I'm here to help you." "You think you have to do this alone. But you don't." "Every time, it has come down to my choices." "Are you a god?" "I am the furthest thing from it." "Then stop acting like one. Let someone else help you." "Do the right thing." "You want to be a hero? Then save the world. Right now." "The restoration of the world as it was meant to be…" "That's not saving the world, that's saving your pride." "Is that why you think I am doing this?" "I think you're doing this because you think that you have to. But you don't." "You have to forgive yourself." "You know how I got out of the Prison of Regrets? I let it go." "Varric's death was never truly your fault." "And you didn't cause every problem. You tried to fix them." "And every time I failed." "The world's still here. You got some of it right." "I cannot. To stop now would dishonor those I've wronged to come this far." "Even if those you wronged asked you to stop?" "Vhenan. And… Morrigan?" "One appellation among the many I wear, Dread Wolf." "I have been advisor to Orlais, Witch of the Wilds, daughter of Flemeth… and once, long ago, an old friend." "Mythal…" "You never would have left the Fade and taken on that humble form had I not been the one who first convinced you." "The things that I have done…" "Are not for you alone to bear, my friend. The many wrongs we did, we did together." "It is not too late to stop this. Banal nadas. Ar lath ma, vhenan." "My life force now sustains the Veil. With every breath I take, I will protect the innocent from my past failures. " "The Titans' dreams are mad from their imprisonment. I cannot kill the blight, but I can help to soothe its anger." "What I've done, I will atone for." ""But you do not have to go alone." "Thanks to you, I can see the way."

Rook and Solas' final confrontation if Rook tries to convince him to stop was apparently supposed to be much longer, with Solas mentioning the elven people and the Titans, Varric's death, and Rook acknowledging he always did try to save the world.

It seems there was also one more line Solas would say to Lavellan after her "But you do not have to go alone." -> "Thanks to you, I can see the way."

The Inquisitor's happily ever after

"So you have to stop Solas, but not in a way that prevents him from stopping the blight." "Let Solas put the blight into its nice new prison, then we'll put him in there with it." "So with Solas and the elven gods out of the picture, where does that leave us?" "Nothing. He didn't deserve his little happily ever after." "If there's anyone who can reason with the blight, it's him." "The Inquisitor believed in him. [i]She [/i]deserved her happily ever after, even if that's helping Solas fix his mistakes." "And so the Dread Wolf shall spend eternity in the knowledge that he stood at the precipice of disaster and was saved by a mortal's wisdom." "Then why maneuver matters so as to deliver it to him?" "Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain were villains trying to conquer and blight the world." "Solas did terrible things, but he was trying to help. I can understand that." "He was wrong, not evil." "She waited many years for him. You are kind indeed to ensure those years were not in vain." "I am surprised less that he would seize upon such a chance for redemption, and more that you would offer it. " "The Inquisitor earned it." "He's working off his debt. After all, I don't think there's anyone else alive with the power and perspective to try to heal the blight." "Few would react with such compassion to the Dread Wolf's trickery. What merits him a fate fairer than Elgar'nan or Ghilan'nain?" "True. Even had I Mythal's full power, she and I often struggled to mend feelings we might have broken." "'Twould not be the first time he accomplished something Mythal herself thought impossible." "And so the Dread Wolf is stopped by, of all things, love." "Surprised?" "He's fixing his mess."

Lines for the different ways Rook can handle Solas' fate. Rook and Morrigan discuss Lavellan and Solas' chance at happiness, with Rook deciding to help them reunite despite Solas' trickery; Rook deciding to lock Solas away with the Blight; probably a line referencing a friend Inquisitor or Rook themselves ("Solas saved by a mortal's wisdom") and one referencing Lavellan ("Solas saved by love").

Epilogue

"It may mean nothing. Or everything. What matters is that the Solas is content, and we need no longer fear him tearing down the Veil." "So, Rook, what's the plan?" "[i](Sighs)[/i] Damn it." "Thank you." "Then it sounds like you have work to do. I'll leave you to it." "Good luck, Rook. Enjoy the adventures to come. " "I'm sorry, vhenan. If there had been another way..." "And now he'll spend who knows how long trying to heal the blight? What does that even mean?" "I can think of few things he'd have hated more." "He made a cage with bars made out of his worst weaknesses. He's not getting out on his own." "And we're certain there's no way for him to escape?" "Trapped forever in a prison with the blight." "Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain are also both dead. 'Tis no great loss there, the blighted fools." "So, Rook: How does it feel to have saved the world?" "Honestly, I have no idea." "Don't be so shy with your feelings, Morrigan." "We were all young once, were we not? 'Tis from such humble seeds that great things are grown." "Tell that to Mythal." "When the next aspiring deity lays claim to our world, you are the woman who shall remind them that even gods can die." "You are really bad at inspiring speeches." "Despite these rough edges, you forged a team that saved all of Thedas. Precious few can claim that." "I notice you left out one elven god—the only one still here in any capacity." "When the next aspiring deity lays claim to our world, you are the one who shall remind them that even gods can die." "You're leaving me to handle this?" "Were Mythal younger, she might have wished to rule again. Were I younger, I might have agreed with her." "Hey, the world is still here and isn't blighted or covered with demons. I think we did okay." "Says the woman carrying the god who made most of the mess I had to clean up." "And prepare yourself for whatever storm next clouds our skies." "I did save the world." "Who else? Make no mistake, you could do with a finer touch in matters of politics. " "You're not very good at this." "Even with Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain dead, the Venatori remain a threat, as do the Antaam and darkspawn. "

It seems there was supposed to be an additional scene after the ending, with Rook and Morrigan discussing the future. The dialogue would change depending on Solas' fate/Rook's choice about him.

That "Solas is content, and we need no longer fear him tearing down the Veil." probably refers to the ending with Lavellan, while it's not clear if that "I'm sorry, vhenan. If there had been another way..." is supposed to be there (maybe Solas apologizing again for bringing her to what he believes will be a terrible place?) or if it's referring to another scene.

The lines about him being stuck in a prison made out of his worst weaknesses, being unable to get out on his own, and spending a very long time trying to heal the Blight, something he hates, all sound like lines that would fit his bad endings.

One last mission

"Rook gives the team their seventh pep talk after the Finale." "We're sticking together. The gods might be dead, but there's more to do in this world." "We'll find Harding or Davrin. Somehow." "The eighth pep comes after nearly all content has been completed." "Weird shit is going on. What are the clues we have? The Executor, the Devouring Storm - what does it mean?" "We don't actually know. But it sounds bad. So we need each other more than ever." "On return to Rivain Island, defeat the Executor and collect the Memento for Davrin/Harding"

There is a cut scene + mission with Rook talking to their team after the ending and going to Rivain for one last mission. It's pretty much confirmed the cutscene was supposed to take place in the Lighthouse, there are old files and flags for it. If you pay attention after the ending sequence, you will see your Rook appear in the Lighthouse for a millisecond, the only trace left of that scene.

[sammakesart]

In Which the Dread Wolf Is Saved By, of All Things, Love.

The blade slices into his palm, blood seeping from the wound and soaking into the leather of his glove. A thought emerges as she watches him: It is the same hand that once held the mark on her own palm. He squeezes his fist, the blood dripping down onto the stone. 

“My life force now sustains the Veil.”

His eyes find hers, a brief moment as their gazes meet and hold. An eternity, over too soon. 

“With every breath I take, I will protect the innocent from my past failures.”

Her gaze falls to his fist, and her heart aches. It is done.

“The Titan’s dreams are mad from their imprisonment. I cannot kill the blight, but I can help soothe its anger.”

She watches as he looks down to the dagger, then extends it to Rook.

“I will go,” he says. His eyes meet hers once more as he speaks his last words. To her. For her. “And seek atonement.”

He tears his gaze away, and she watches as he turns, his steps sure and steady as he walks toward the tear in the sky.

They are running out of time.

It is then she makes her decision, though it was no decision at all. She knew—she has always known—what she would do given this choice. 

“But you do not have to go alone.”

He had stopped before she spoke, perhaps hearing the fall of her steps, perhaps in the hope of one final goodbye. He turns as she finishes her declaration, his lips parted in surprise, but he clasps her hands as she stretches them towards him. His grip trembles ever so slightly. She notices the shine in his eyes as tears well, but he does not deny her. He only offers her a warning. It is the only thing he can offer her. 

“Where I am going is terrible.”

She smiles, shakes her shake. 

“It won’t be terrible if you’re with me. We make this journey together. Always.”

The words are reminiscent of the last verse of Dalish wedding vows. She wonders if he catches the significance, but by the way his grip tightens, she suspects he understands. 

She leans in, but then stops, waiting for him to close the last stretch of space between them. His lips meet hers without hesitation, cracked and bloody as they are. She doesn’t care. He tastes of iron and ash, and yet still of him. 

His mouth moves against hers, and she wishes to wrap her arms around him, to pull him close, but she fears causing him any further pain. She has seen the wounds on his face, saw him clutching at his right side as he ascended the steps before she crossed the threshold. She can only imagine the wounds hidden beneath his battered armor. She had glimpsed the state of his dread wolf as it tore the throat out of Elgar’nan’s archdemon. 

There will be time for such things later, after he has rested and healed. Time will never be something they are in want of now.

***

He savors her for as long as he dares, then presses his lips firmly against hers before pulling away. His mouth curves into a soft smile. Just for her. 

There is no force—divine or otherwise—that can part him from her now. Not unless she wishes it.

He holds her gaze for one more moment, the burn of tears still threatening to spill sting his eyes. But he blinks them away quickly, and glances back at Rook. 

“Thank you, Rook.”

Then his eyes fall back to her. He cannot get enough. 

He is not unaware that Rook had to have had a part to play in this once-thought impossible reunion. 

There will never be words or action enough to show his gratitude, especially to someone he has so gravely wronged. And yet, they still have orchestrated the return of his heart to him. A gift he knows he does not deserve, but he will endeavor to earn. 

He squeezes her hands once more—one flesh, one formed—and turns, walking towards the last remaining tear in the Veil. He crosses his hands before him to keep from reaching out, reaching back to hold her to him. She must make this choice freely. 

He doesn’t even dare look, afraid if he does, he will find no one and nothing. That these last few minutes have all been a dream conjured by his addled mind and his bone-deep exhaustion—for what else could it be but a dream? That, after all this time, after everything he’s done, she would seek him out once more. That she would forgive him. Love him still. Choose to be with him, despite where he must go. 

There is a moment where he fears she has changed her mind, or he was correct in his first assumption that she was never here at all. His chest tightens… and then releases as he feels her hand rest upon his shoulder. She is here. She is real. 

With the last ounce of strength he has, he wraps them in his magic and spirits them into the Fade, leaving her world behind. Perhaps for good. 

He took away her ability to choose once, many years ago, when she first asked to join him while standing in the Crossroads. It had torn him in two to deny her, but he knew then that he could not allow her to follow the path he had to tread. Could not allow it to twist her hope into despair, like his own purpose had been twisted long ago. 

For so long, his life has only been duty and destruction. He is unsure of how to be anything else.

When he finds himself once again in the prison of his own making, his knees give out from under him. The weight of the last few hours, few weeks, few years, dragging him to the hard unforgiving stone of his regrets. But this time, he is not alone. 

She kneels before him, carefully cradling his face in her palm, her skin so warm against his. “Vhenan,” she whispers as her thumb strokes lightly over his cheek, and it takes him a moment to realize he is crying, truly crying. The tears that had threatened to fall when he first took her hands in his have now been set free. He crumples into her lap, his forehead pressed the against her stomach as she gently strokes his head and down his back, offering words of comfort, her voice thick with her own tears. She has saved him. He has doomed her. 

The weight of that realization is enough to crush him to dust. He pulls back, eyes searching hers. His hands shake as he reaches up to hold her face. Perhaps there is still time…

“These are my burdens to bare,” he rasps. “I cannot ask you to carry them with me.” 

“You do not have to, vhenan.” She holds his hand to her cheek. “I chose this. Freely. Just as I chose you.”

She presses a kiss to the heel of his hand, the one still wet with his blood. “Being with you is no burden, Solas, not to me. It is a joy.”

Their foreheads meet, pressed together as they once again take each other’s hands.

She is here. She is real. He still cannot believe it.

“Ar lath ma, vhenan.”

Then he says the words she had gifted him, a vow he will hold sacred for as long as they both shall live. 

“Vir shiral malasa. Bellanaris.”

[wutheringheightsfilm]

@stxalq

i'm waiting like how is any of what i said misinformation? what about this is misinformation? There are many articles that detail the individual stories of women who have died due to lack of abortion care due to state legislature after Roe v Wade was overturned, and to act like there isn't a history of anti-abortion Democrats and purposefully stonewalling codifying Roe into federal in the first place is incorrect. For decades, Democrats have not only purposefully prevented the codifying of Roe into law, but many of them didn't and still don't.

Obama said that the first thing he would do as president was codify Roe v Wade into law, and guess what? He didn't, and of course said it wasn't his highest legislative priority. For literal decades now this has been the Democrat playbook: they will dangle abortion and healthcare rights in your face and never fucking deliver. And guess what no one was fucking campaigning for abortion rights as much as they were under Trump because they just assumed because a Democrat was in office everything would be fine until it wasn't. Because that's what liberals do. They forget about every problem that exists unless a Republican is in office.

But again, oh of course you're so right! I forgot the Democrats are powerless little puppies who always get kicked by mean evil Republicans and have never ever done anything wrong in their entire life and nothing is ever their fault! And actually despite the fact that Joe Biden can put out an executive order tomorrow and turn things around means nothing! Democrats are actually always powerless and can never do anything as politicians! But right, only Trump could do stuff like that because he was Mean and Evil and he's the only bad president to ever exist!

it actually really grinds my gears that for the last like what few years after roe v wade was overturned and people have already been dying due to lack of abortion access and gynecological care that wasn't enough to spur anyone into action but the minute the evil cartoon president gets reelected NOW all of a sudden everyone is like "oh no my abortion rights!" girl they're already gone! joe biden and the DNC saw to that! they're gone! and now this past year like every year they dangled it like a carrot in front of a horse in your face to try and get you to vote for them and it didn't work because they're not only doing nothing to protect healthcare for anybody but they're taking their time instead to sponsor and commit genocide. but no it's only donald trump who's evil and no one else in the world and once he's gone everything will be the perfect utopia it once was right? 🙄

[stiffyck]

So sorry to anyone who followed me for literally anything else and then got hit by me putting a murder clown on your dash every day

[endofbeginings]

[qpjianghu]

Mysterious Lotus Casebook ~ ep. 1

What a coincidence, Doctor Li. I thought it would take a long time to find you.

[crtter]

Why, that’s my main man Louis XVI! We all know him. You know, married Marie Antoinette, helped with the American Revolution War, lost his head during the French Revolution… Louisville in Kentucky is named after him! I like this portrait. It has him wearing his coronation robes. Very snazzy. It wasn’t painted at the time of his coronation though. He was 19 when he ascended to the throne after his grandfather, Louis XV, died from smallpox. He got a different portrait of him painted then. This is a later piece, from the 1780s, if I’m not mistaken. I think he’s in his mid-thirties here.

Anyway, his non-king name was Louis Auguste, he was born in August 23, 1754 and he has never caught a single break in his life. I mean, don’t get me wrong, in the greater scheme of things the French Revolution was a net positive for the world. Like, my country could still be a colony to this day if Napoleon hadn’t ascended to the throne and scared the king of Portugal into going hiding in Brazil. But you can’t help but feel a little sorry for the guy. Nothing ever went his way!

To start off, he was never meant to be king at all and, in his heart, he’d probably would rather have been anything else. His father was the next in the line of succession, and after him, it would be his older brother, who his family like, HEAVILY favored over him and didn’t even try to hide it. This meant he didn’t get nearly as good of an education as his brother did, getting stuck with an elderly, very conservative tutor who mostly only taught him religion and morals. But his brother would die at only nine years old (Louis was six then) from a bone infection after a bad fall from being pushed a little too hard while roughhousing with his friends. Then his father would die as well, of tuberculosis, when he was eleven, and his mother would follow a bit over a year later, having fallen into a deep depression after her husband’s death. So most of his immediate family drops dead and Louis becomes heir to the throne. Turns out he couldn’t have done so in worst circumstances: he inherited a lot of debt from his predecessors, had to deal with the repercussions of an unusually harsh winter that destroyed crops all over France and he just didn’t have a single authoritarian bone in his body.

It’s not like he was unintelligent. Much to the contrary, actually: he taught himself how to speak Italian, Spanish and English (the latter, reportedly, because he loved ships and navigation and he wanted to read Captain James Cook’s memoirs and Robinson Crusoe in the language they were originally written), had his own personal library, mastered advanced calculus and was and passionate about cartography, clockmaking and locksmithing. He was far from a tyrant or out of touch with his people either. He liked to secretly visits poor families in person and give them money that had been reserved for his own personal expenses, often took decisions that were the opposite of what was advised to him because, in his own words, “it might not be what’s best for the country but it’s what the people want and I want people to like me”, and held progressive values for a man of his time, passing or at least attempting to pass laws prohibiting the persecution of religious minorities, abolishing torture, serfdom and the death penalty.

So, why did Louis XVI die in the way he did? There were a lot of factors, of course. One of them is just because he was a symbol of the monarchy that had been plunging the country into more and more debt for the past 100 years, but a key one was that he was just awfully indecisive. It was it hard for him to make important decisions as quickly as he should and easy for him to be persuaded by other people of what he should do, which made for some pretty inconsistent, often poor results. He also hated attracting attention to himself so he refused getting statues and paintings made to celebrate his accomplishments, which made the public largely unaware of the good things he did while VERY aware of his shortcomings, real and imagined, because political cartoon artists had a field day with him and his wife. His contemporaries also thought of him as kind of uncouth and not very bright due to the fact he was shy and awkward. He was a bad public speaker, prone to going into uncomfortable silences mid-conversation and had a hard time looking people in the eye, which gave him an uncharismatic reputation. But, most importantly, Louis just… didn’t fight back. He was chronically insecure. Eager for approval. He could’ve easily thwarted the initial revolts with his personal army but he felt like raising weapons against his own people was as unforgivable as doing so against his own children. So he made a point to forbid his men from attacking the revolutionaries and to try and talk it out with them and give in to their demands, eventually even letting himself and his family to be taken into house arrest to Paris.

More things happen after that, but the gist of it is, even though Louis was technically in decent terms with the revolutionaries and on board with being stripped of all his power and becoming a constitutional monarch, even writing to his brothers to demand that they do not try anything counterrevolutionary and that he didn’t need their help, he felt like a prisoner and that his children were being mistreated. So he and Marie Antoinette decided to take a leap of faith and flee Paris to cross the Austrian border. The thing is, Louis genuinely thought that the revolutionary efforts were concentrated in Paris and that people elsewhere still liked him and would support his decision to escape. He was VERY wrong about that. They were eventually recognized and apprehended because, well. Louis’ face was literally on the money and someone eventually went “Wait a minute… don’t I know this guy from somewhere?”. The people were shocked by his betrayal and secret plotting with foreigners to escape given that he had previously seemed so cooperative. So he and his family are put in an actual prison this time, and he’s eventually tried for high treason and crimes against the state. By then he knows he’s cooked and that he’s going to be killed but he seems oddly resigned to it. I guess he just gave up.

Later on when his lawyer and former minister goes to tell him, in tears, that he has indeed, been convicted to death he just thanks him for his hard work and tells him that “We’ll meet again in a happier life!” One of the last things he said at all, on the way to the scaffold, was asking if there have been any news of the La Pérouse expedition lately. which was this version of the Captain Cook expeditions of his he had organized a few years before it all went to shit. Funny little man, he was. He was scared of cats because he got a nasty scratch on the butt from his grandfather’s cat as a child, but he dutifully took care of this very cat until the day it died after his grandfather’s passing. He liked to stealthily make his way out of windows and climb on the roofs of the palace of Versailles at night to hunt for nocturnal animals. His favorite horses were named Escargot and Desiré.

I can do this trick with some other VERY random subjects too. Someone look up “French king”, get the first picture you see out of Google Images and show it to me on this post. Don’t give me a name. Just the picture or a link to the picture. I’m going to either awe you or creep you out. No middle ground.

[mongo-the-liensis]

Daniel: How do you want your coffee?

Carl, after beating some guy to death but not before the guy pleaded, saying he has a family at home: Black, like my soul.

Daniel:

Daniel: Carl, your soul is a latte.

[elysianstars]

After completing Chapter 24 of Engage, I now understand Lumera perfectly. I, too, feel that Alear is my precious child who I would kill or die for. Poor sweet Pepsi-kun, stop being mean to him.

[violetfairydust]

i just want to say i love derek hale

[pebblestar]

Oh my god- with transformers getting rebooted does this mean they'll bring Ratchet back??

[guardianspirits13]

Ekko my son,,, we miss you please come home safe 😭😭😭

[beanghostprincess]

He's so cute so adorable so perfect so beautiful he deserves the whole world