#like this also happened with wicked where it came out So much later here and with movies i can still kinda understand

[lyxchen]

I JUST WANT TO WATCH SEASON 2 OF SCHOOL SPIRITS DAMN IT!!!!!

[meowzfordayz]

caught with them (; — hashira men

Author’s Note: mostly humorous, but ~a lil steamy. 😉 Update: some are def steamier than others. 😅

caught with them (; — hashira men

Himejima Gyomei x Reader, Iguro Obanai x Reader, Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader, Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader, Tomioka Giyuu x Reader, Uzui Tengen x Reader

Word Count: ~1,500

CW: 18+NSFW, accidental v!yeurism, cream!pie, dark humor, degrading language, explicit language, Fem!Reader

Emergency Request Fulfilled: Hi T! May I please request an emergency request (I'm  getting surgery on Thursday and I'm a bit stressed) can you please write funny nsfw headcanons where all the male hashira ( except Muichiro) making love to their fem s/o and all of a sudden she calls out ,"Daddy!", And the guys think she's being kinky and they were getting so into it but then with her serious demeanor they stopped and turned to find out it was actually their s/O's Dad who came in to visit? Please and thank you.

~faqs~

“Daddy!”

Initially confused

Gyomei didn’t realize you were into that 😏

And he was too invested in how perfectly your pussy suffocated his dick to hear approaching footsteps 💀

“G-gyomei,” you gasp, burning w/ embarrassment, legs wrapped around his waist as you sit full and sweaty on his lap, nose pressed into his shoulder, suddenly grateful it’s his back facing the living room doorway

“Hm?” he murmurs lowly, blissfully unaware, nearing his orgasm as he continues guiding your hips w/ strong, broad palms

“Mydad’shere,” you manage to explain, nearly choking on the feeling of his tip grazing your cervix

😳😱😵

#Gyomei is no longer confused

“Oh dear,” he mutters, mortification clear in his voice

Even as his eyebrows furrow, cock twitching in your heat as he finally cums

Meanwhile, your poor dad’s like: 🫠🫠🫠

“Well don’t just stand there!” you shriek, “Go make yourself tea or something!”

Best believe your dad immediately disappears to make himself something much stronger than tea 😭

“Daddy!”

And that’s when Obanai remembers 😳

“Please tell me what’s happening isn’t what I think is happening.”😖

—You thought you knew what his desperation sounded like

—Especially after cockwarming him for hrs, clenching and gently grinding every so often to keep him on edge, computer screen bright w/ half finished work, swivel chair squeaking whenever you decide to roll your hips

—But this definitely takes the cake 🥴

“Unfortunately, my dad is here for our scheduled luncheon that we completely forgot about, but fortunately he is also going to wait in his car,” you grit out, glaring harshly at your equally distraught parent, “We’ll be ready shortly.”

Newsflash: your dad could care less about when you’ll be ready for lunch

In fact, he’d much prefer to cancel lunch altogether

Who needs lunch when their appetite’s just been ruined by an emotionally scarring event?

As soon as your dad leaves, you clamber off of Obanai’s lap, his cock slick and swollen as he slips from your heat, needy whine shiny on his lips

“We’ll revisit this later,” you promise, “With the door closed.”

Despite the waves of embarrassment still crashing through him, he can’t resist cracking a wicked smile, drinking in the sight of your naked form as you bend over to hand him his shirt, previously discarded on the floor

“Dessert? Sounds good to me.” 😎

“Daddy!”

Kyojuro pauses mid thrust, expression eager, chest pink from exertion, longer hairs tickling your collarbones as he haunches over you, “Daddy? Would you like to call me daddy?”

“Kyo-” 😭

Yk when yk what you should say, but you can’t seem to say it? 😬

Ofc that would occur at the least opportune moment 😃

“Sweetheart, there is nothing wrong with liking what you like!” lips grazing your throat, one palm pushing at your thigh, the other splayed on an overhead cabinet to steady himself, “If you want to call me daddy, then I am perfectly happy to be your daddy,” sucking lightly at your jaw, growling at the satisfying thud of your body against the countertop’s edge as he completes his thrust, balls sticky when they tap your skin

“Kyyyo-” 😭😭😭

“Call me daddy sweetheart, let daddy make you feel go-”

“So uh,” finally your dad sputters, “How about you guys text me when you’re finished?”

Kyojuro’s eyes = wider than saucers 😳

“I AM SO SORRY, I HAD NO IDEA.” <— 0.02 secs after your dad slams the front door shut

“That was hot,” you giggle breathlessly, shock still radiating, “Maybe I do have a daddy kink? You had me at a lost for words.” 😇

“Clearly!” he nearly whines, uncharacteristically bashful as he tucks his face into your shoulder, “I would have stopped immediately had I known!”

“I’m sorry, I short circuited.” 😅

“I hope he forgives us.” 😓

You snort, already recovering from the ordeal, “He’ll survive.” 😆

Pouting, Kyojuro clings to you, cock slowly softening in your pussy, “But I may not.” 🥺

“Oh hush,” you pat his head reassuringly, smiling as he nuzzles closer, “Let’s shower and get dressed. My poor dad’s patiently waiting.”

“Daddy!”

“Who’re you calling daddy?” Sanemi murmurs, body draped over you, grip warm and steady around your waist, your own hands clutching the edge of the sink, “Listen to your sloppy cunt, so pliant and needy, bent over in the bathroom like a cheap whore.”

“Sanemi,” you squeak, eyes glued to the retreating figure reflected in the mirror

“I asked you a question,” he growls roughly, nipping at the side of your neck, balls tapping your clit as his pace quickens, “Who’re you calling daddy? Who’s fucking your slutty hole? Who’s bringing you closer and closer to your climax?”

“Iwascallingmydad, daddy,” you blurt, diction hurried by the stretch and intensity of Sanemi’s thrusts

He shudders to a halt, dangerous stare meeting yours as he looks up into the mirror

“You WHAT?!!!”

You inhale deeply, enunciation precise and drawn out, “We invited my dad over for dinner. You got me horny. He let himself in… and then let promptly let himself out. We made eye contact in the mirror, I swear he nearly fainted, and I called him daddy because apparently that’s what I do when I panic!”

“Oh so this is MY fault?” 😒

“The fuck?” 😐

“That’s what I’m saying! You got me horny, bitch, you’re always horny! Sorry I enjoy pleasuring my woman!” 🙄

“Well don’t apologize for that!”

“Fine! I’m not sorry!” 😤

“So do I get to cum, or…?” 🙃

“You’re fucking weird. You still wanna cum? Now?”

“I mean dinner’s obviously off the table, so-”

“Fuck’s sake! Okay! I’ll make you cum!” 🤬

“Good!”

“Great! Better brace yourself princess,” Sanemi snarls, slipping his fingers between your legs to flick at your clit, “Because you’re my cocksleeve for tonight.”

—Don’t even ask 😃

—Porn isn’t realistic

—So why should my fanfiction be? 😂

“Daddy!”

#riperoni Tomioka Giyuu

“Uh huh baby, baby, fuck, f-fuck, FUCK,” he groans loudly, mouth parting slightly, couch pillow propping his head up to provide the perfect view of your perfect tits as you perfectly ride him

“GiyuuGiyuuGiyuu-”

Disclaimer: you’re panicking — not cumming 💀

#unlike someone #that someone being Giyuu

“Shit, you’re incredible,” he murmurs, eyes barely open, thumbs soft and greedy as they dig into your waist, satisfaction welling in his stomach as his cum fills you, warm and viscous, tip swollen and twitching, “Feels good, hm? When daddy cums in your gorgeous pussy?”

#riperoni Tomioka Giyuu x 1,398,742

You clear your throat, blinking awkwardly, “Dad, how about I call you in ten minutes?”

Indescribable dread flickers across Giyuu’s face

⚠️ESCAPE⚠️RETREAT⚠️WITHDRAW⚠️

But he can’t move 😭, bc he just came inside of you 😭, and apparently there’s an audience 😭

#talk about a mess #pun intended

“You do that honey!” *your dad frantically nods* “You do whatever you need to do!” *your dad frantically flees*

…

…

“Murder or suicide?” Giyuu asks quietly

“What?” 🧐

“One of us is a dead man,” he answers solemnly, “But I’ll let you decide who.”

*big sigh* “Neither you nor my dad has to die.”

“I disagree.” 😔

“Daddy!”

“The fuck?” 🤨 “Is your dad here?” 🤨 “Are you into that?” 🤨

The fact that Tengen hasn’t stopped thrusting does not help your ability to articulate 💀

“Well?” he grunts, biceps straining as he keeps you pinned to the wall, hands full of your ass, “Which one is it?”

“The fact that you don’t seem concerned in the slightest that it could be the second one is mildly concerning,” you mutter

Meanwhile, you’re frantically shooing your dad away, unable to do much more in your current ~position

“The fact that you only consider that mildly concerning is also concerning,” he retorts, “And quit fidgeting,” tongue licking along the curve of your jaw as he murmurs lowly, “Less wriggling, more cumming.”

The sound of the front door opening and closing barely registers to Tengen 😃

Is he that pussydrunk?

Nah

#he just doesn’t give af

#well

#sort of

“Tengen.”

“Hm?” he smirks, gaze glinting smugly at the feeling of your pussy sucking him in deeper, “You gonna cum for me?”

“You do know my dad was here?” breaking off to a whimper as his pubic bone grinds against your clit, “R-right?”

“I know,” he replies simply, fixated on your building orgasm, determinedly repeating his motions, spurred on by your ragged gasps and staccato moans, “I was certainly surprised,” tone amused and patient, “But I figured he’d leave as soon as he realized what he walked in on,” nonchalant as ever, “No point in ruining our pleasure for a brief interruption.”

—I’m not usually suuuper into Tengen, but damn 🤠😂

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Hiii!

I love your writing, especially Mirror, Mirror! Are you still taking request? I‘ve been thinking about Ascended Astarion and female Tav/Reader attending a ball for the politicians and nobles of Baldur’s Gate, getting all dressed up and socializing, dancing and Astarion flirting with her all night long. Astarion obviously wouldn’t waste a chance to be alone with Tav/Reader, takes her on a romantic stroll in the gardens and has his wicked way with her somewhere in a dark corner 👀

I can not make Ascnedant Astarion not dark I am SORRY but I can't help myself. The intro to this is sad bad, but honestly it gets pretty fun later down the line. Gotta set up that Stockholm syndrome. You gots it here.

Tw: Murder, Violence, not much but it is there, graphic smut, 18+ sweet dark fluff. I do consider this Stockholm on your end. Very inspired by the in-game quote of locking you away for a decade. Also, never write shit only in tumblr post editor, I lost half of this right before I was going to post last and it almost killed me

~

Astarion was.... aware that you'd been having a hard time as of late. If anyone could empathize with the complications of being a vampire spawn, it was certainly him. Even though his circumstance were obviously much, much worse than yours ever could be.

He was no Cazador. Astarion was different, he loved you. He knew what was best for you. All that needed to happen now was for you to accept it.

And in your defense, you were trying. It had taken a long time for you to finally come to terms with the full extent of power he had over you as his spawn. He would always know where you were through sensation alone. Always ready and willing to drag you back home if need be. He could compel you to his side at any moment, though he did have a bad habit of going out to find you during your little tantrums. It seemed to work better to put you in your place, especially since he had very little self-control when it came to who you associated with. Many a possible friend had died at his hand, in front of your eyes. A waste, really, one that wouldn't be necessary if you would just listen.

But the demonstrations had been useful. Slowly but surely you were learning that the option of secrets between the two of you had died the second he sunk his fangs into your wrist. He had personally put an official stop to all of your extracurricular activities. The things you used to do in your spare time were silly and dangerous, always going out of your way to help the undeserving. But now he had the control to stop you, to sequester you at the estate where you were safe.

You had nowhere to be besides his side and you were finally starting to understand that. Things were so much easier when you gave in and listened, happier and more fun.

Lately, it had almost felt like another honeymoon phase, with your sudden predilection for extreme loyalty. It helped that he could still see into your mind through the new connection, fully aware that your love remained real and pure, if not a bit melancholic. It was silly really, the guilt you felt towards him for letting him ascend. Never mind the thousands he sacrificed, you were too concerned with how power had chanced him.

It was cute. Stupid, but cute. Because obviously it had changed him for the better. How else would he be where he was now? With his hands already in nearly every major part of Baldur's Gate's governance? He had made wide, sweeping moves to gain control in the past year, banking on your dual hero status to deflect from his more... unsavory attributes. But it was working, and in a few years time this city would belong to him. Then the two of you would be on to the next major conquest. A future that you were just now coming to terms with.

And Astarion wanted to reward you for that acceptance. He had been a bit paranoid of late, paranoid enough to not let you out of the house for a solid fortnight. But for good reason. The last of the Gur had come out of the woodwork recently, looking for revenge for their children and fallen comrades. With a specific interest in you. It had made sense, in a way. You were his greatest weakness after all. So of course he had to take it upon himself to personally hunt the last of them down to tear them limb from limb.

But now they were officially gone, and he was finally feeling comfortable with letting you out into the world again. Just not out of his sight. And tonight was the perfect opportunity. He had a mandatory soirée to attend, populated by neighboring nobles and a few powerful foreigners. One that would be so much more entertaining with you willingly by his side. Or forced, if need be. Depending on if you decided to be in one of your moods, though they were a rarity nowadays.

But no, you turned out to be too excited at the prospect of leaving the house to even attempt being a brat. Astarion watched you with a smile as you appeared at the top of the staircase, dressed to the nines. He whistled as he watched you descend, beyond pleased with how you looked. He met you at the bottom of the landing, easily wrapping an arm around your waist before setting a quick kiss to your temple, "You look beautiful pet. Absolutely stunning."

You truly did. A navy satin gown that matched your skin tone perfectly, fitted with delicate straps and a low bodice. Perhaps the slit in the leg was a little high, revealing too much of your perfect thigh for the rest of the world. But you looked too good for him to complain.

You really were so gorgeous, could he be blamed for wanting to dress you up?

You rolled your eyes, but Astarion didn't miss the tiny smile dancing on your lips, "You're the one who picked it out."

"And you wear it perfectly," Astarion praised, already leading you out the door. He kept you close to his side during the short journey, his eyes darting around your surroundings every few moments. His paranoia had been quelled, but it hadn't completely died out. But he had already made the decision that he was going to be on his best behavior tonight, and that included not indulging in his protective nature. You deserved nothing less.

But that didn't stop Astarion from taking some mental notes on those who stared at you too brazenly when you arrived. Part of him couldn't blame them, not when he could understand your thrall better than any one else. But the other, more fun part of himself was too busy imagining ripping them apart for the audacious, lustful stares.

But he didn't drag the two of you out for strictly fun, a fact that he was quickly reminded of when you were approached by the main host, "Lord Ancunín! I'm so pleased that you could make it."

Astarion vaguely remembered who he was, though he was much more interested in his friends than the man himself. The man turned his attention toward you, brow raised, "And who is this beautiful creature?"

Astarion could feel his brow twitch at the insolence. How dare he not know who you were? The Hero of Baldur's Gate, his consort, the love of his life, how could someone of his breeding be so ignorant? You had to many titles to choose from for introductions, so Astarion decided on the most important, "This is the future Lady Ancunín, my fiancé."

He could feel you tense at his side, staring up at him with wide eyes like what he said was surprising. Which was odd. He had been extremely clear about his intentions since the day he ascended, marriage was the obvious next step for the two of you.

"Well it's lovely to meet you," The noble said with a smile, his attention going straight back to Astarion, "Now if you'll excuse us, I have a few matters to discuss with your future husband."

Astarion was startlingly close to hurting this man. What on earth made him feel as though he had the right to dismiss you? He tightened the arm he had around your waist, sneering at him, "There is nothing that you can say that she won't eventually know. Don't waste our time."

Then he proceeded to do just that, wasting Astarion's time with useless information and worthless attempts at allyships. It seemed to be an unfortunate trend as the night progressed, just reinforcing how utterly useless the gentry could really be. Not to mention their constant passive dismissal of you. He really was going to need to start letting you out more often, though he had to wonder if they were even worthy of your presence. He would have been a bit more forceful regarding his own displeasure at their arrogance if you weren’t so distracting.

It was hard to hold onto his own indignation when you seemed so content. You were leaning into him the whole night, smiling softly through all of his inane conversations. Never failing to be adorably pleased at your introduction. It made Astarion want to fawn over you, alternating between whispering sweet nothings in your ear and sweeping you onto the dance floor. All of your pleased laughs and giggles music to his ears.

He kept you close all evening, never allowing you to wander past his sight. His arm stayed firmly around your waist, never quite shaken off after your first waltz together. But you didn't seem to mind. If anything you were glowing under the attention, happy in a way he hadn't seen for a long time. Too long. Beautiful enough for him to have the overly romantic thought that he never wanted the night to end.

Even after he had done his rounds, engaged with all whom he had planned on, he wasn't quite ready to leave. They had all been dreadfully dull, but at least a few conversations would prove useful in the future at the very least.

He started to steer you towards the back garden doors, whispering in your ear, "Take a walk with me?"

You followed him easily, happy to leave the bustle of the ballroom and step into the coolness of the night. You both started walking, hand and hand in a comfortable silence. It was a pretty enough garden, hedges and ivy lining the walkways, a white slightly weathered gazebo placed in the center.

"You know," You said eventually, as the two of you went up the gazebo steps. You leaned against the railing, looking at him with a coy smile, "I don't recall you ever proposing."

Astarion barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes as he crowded around you. It was an unnecessary question, considering how you would have no choice in the matter. But he was playing nice tonight. Astarion grinned at you, bracing his hands on the railing to cage you in his arms, "If you want a proposal, I'm more than happy to oblige."

"I do," You were playing with the lapel of his jacket, looking up at him through your lashes, "Sooner than later if you don't mind."

"Your wish is my command," Astarion murmured, shameless as he started to kiss along the line of your throat, "I'm proud of you pet. You've been an angel all night."

"You haven't given me much to complain about," You said with a small laugh, your breath hitching when his fangs scraped against your delicate skin, hard enough to make pinpricks of blood bubble to the surface.

"You know..." Astarion started, pulling back to look you in the eye. His voice gentle but serious, "It could always be like this. If you let it."

"I... I know," You admitted, biting on your lower lip as you struggled for the words, "I-I want that. I want you. Even if... it's like this."

Astarion would take offense at the subtle dig if it was anyone else. But with you? He was just happy that you were finally coming around, at long last willing to accept the fate he'd set for you.

"You have it," Astarion promised, tilting your chin up to press a light kiss to your lips, "For as long as I breathe my love, you're mine. And I'm yours-"

You kissed him before he could finish, wrapping your arms around his neck, forceful in a way that he had desperately missed. But you were pulling back too soon, your mouth swollen and your lipstick slightly smeared, smiling at him like the precious thing you were.

How could he resist?

"I think you deserve a reward for tonight my pet," Astarion said, leaning in to softly kiss along your jaw, "For being such a sweetheart."

His hands were wandering, already moving to pluck at the delicate straps of your dress, slowly teasing them to drop down your shoulders.

You made no moves to stop him as your eyes darted around the empty space, "H-Here? But what if someone sees?"

"Then I'll tear their eyes out and feed them back to anyone who stumbles on us," Astarion said simply, smiling at the way it made you laugh softly.

"Violence isn't always the answer you know," You said, your breath hitching as he lightly bit your neck. Your dress still slinking down all the while, "I thought we talked about that?"

"Perhaps," Astarion murmured, "But it seems to usually work in my favor."

He had already managed to slip the straps down enough to ease the way, brazenly tugging the fabric until your breasts spilled from the top. He leaned back in, taking the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth as you gasped; mewling when he began touching you, shamelessly pinching your nipples just to hear you whine.

He adored all your little noises, so easy to coax out of your mouth. He could feel his own cock pulsing in the confines of his trousers, the feeling getting worse and worse as you started to whimper.

Astarion let one of his hands travel further down, right through the slit in your gown. He traced the seam of your pussy through delicate lace, smiling into the kiss from how the simple touch had your hips pitching forward. He could feel you getting wet, already seeping through the fabric of your panties, your needy cunt already begging for his touch. And Astarion was more than happy to oblige.

He tore them from your hips, letting the tattered pieces fall unceremoniously to the ground before he started to rub his palm against your clit, more slick gushing out as you moaned.

You were clutching at his shoulders, panting into his mouth as he played with you. Your thighs tightened around his hand, your cunt wet enough to fill the air with messy, indecent sounds.

Whatever trepidation you had before was quickly dissolving, a small chant escaping your lips as you two kissed, Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.

Astarion was more than happy to oblige.

"Hold onto me darling," Astarion ordered, giving you a split second to tighten your grip around his neck before he was lifting you in the air, settling you on top of the thick railing with your legs spread wide. He made quick work of taking his weeping cock out, rubbing it along the seam of your cunt as you moaned. And then he was pushing inside, the slide soaked and easy.

You felt so tight around him, tight and sopping wet as he started to fuck into you. He bent his head down, popping one of your hard nipples into your mouth as you cried out, your nails clawing into his shoulders. You wrapped your legs around his hips, trying to pull him in even closer, despite the fact that he was pressed deeply inside of you. Hitting all of your sensitive places.

He could tell that you were close, your whining getting more and more high-pitched by the second, your sweet cunt pulsing around his cock. Astarion started to rub at your clit again, at the perfect angle to make you tense up and cry out. And just like that you were squirting against his hand, breathing heavy as your orgasm ravaged through you.

Astarion grinned, popping off your breast to kiss your slack mouth. Naughty thing that you were, making a mess all over your fancy dress. He pulled back to look at you, debauched and panting, your pupils dilated at you stared up at him. You looked gorgeous, fucked out and perfect.

He started to fuck you harder, the erotic image was too much for his mind to handle. You where whining with each thrust, no doubt oversensitive as he roughly slammed into you. But you were a good girl, taking it without a single complaint as you held on for dear life, tears springing to the corners of your eyes. But lucky enough for you, you didn't have to wait long.

Astarion spilled inside of you with a drawn out moan, grinding circles into your cunt as you quivered. You pulled him in for another kiss, messily sliding your lips together as he filled you up. The two of you stayed like that for awhile, lazily kissing as he softened inside of you. It felt good, it felt right, the perfect end to a great night.

Astarion pulled out slowly, cooing at you as you gasped at the feeling. Your legs were still trembling as he set you back on the ground, bad enough for Astarion to wonder if he should just pick you up before you crumpled on the floor.

But first...

Astarion dropped to his knees, ignoring your surprised gasp as he spread your legs back apart.

"Hush darling," Astarion ordered as he pushed your dress back up, "Let me have a look at you."

Astarion was aware that he had gotten a little rough near the end there. It wouldn't be the first time he made you bleed during sex, nor the last. But he would hate to do so accidently. But no, your pussy looked perfectly healthy, if not a little swollen. Flushed and pink, your hole still twitching the slightest bit. The sight of your pussy all slick and red was nearly enough to make his mouth water.

"Spread your legs a little further pet," Astarion murmured, looking just to look. He gently added pressure to your shaking thighs until you complied, "That's it. Good girl."

His cum was already starting to leak out of you, the smallest bit of white making it's first appearance amongst your wet folds. No doubt it would be sliding down your legs soon enough. He could do something about that. But then again... the alternative sounded like too much fun.

Astarion stood back up with a smile, patting your pussy once before letting your dress fall back down, "Try to hold it in darling. We wouldn't want to make another mess, would we?"

You nodded slowly, still looking half out of it. A sweet, hazy look still plastered onto your face. You were already leaning in for another kiss, naturally desperate for more contact. Contact that Astarion was more than happy to give. He pulled you closer, kissing you deeply; your fingers tangling in his hair to pull him even closer. He wrapped his arms around your back, dipping his tongue between your lips as you dreamily sighed.

You pulled away first, to his displeasure, but you didn't go far. You rested your forehead against his, smiling softly with loving eyes, "Hi."

Astarion couldn't help but smile back, taking the time to tuck a wild piece of hair behind your ear, "Hello my treasure. Did you have fun tonight?"

"I think you know the answer to that," You giggled softly, "I'm not even sure I can walk."

That he did. And there would be many more nights like it. Though for now, he'd prefer to get you home. He felt a bit reluctant to parade you back out there for the masses eyes, so obviously debauched by his hands. No, the sight of you happy and flushed was for his eyes only. Your night would be ending here.

You squeaked as he swept you up in his arms, already muttering the magic for a portal under his breath. And just like that the two of you were gone, completely uncaring to give any good byes.

The two of you popped right into the entry hall of the estate, sudden enough to nearly scare a maid half to death. Astarion paid them no mind, too busy with carrying you upstairs to the sanctuary of your quarters.

You cuddled into his chest, looking up at him with a nervous look, "Did... Did I do good tonight?"

"Of course you did," Astarion cooed as he kicked the door to the bedroom open, trying to softly drop you on the bed, "Perfect creature that you are, what else could have possibly happened?"

But you didn't let go when he tried to pull back, clinging hard enough for Astarion to simply follow you. But he didn't mind, no he preferred you like this. Needy, wanting, and his. He twisted the two of your around, settling only when he had you laying on top of him. He would set a bath for the two of you later, but for now he was more than happy to lay here, watching as your tired to stay conscious. You always got so tired after sex, just one more silly thing that he was endeared by.

"I love you," You mumbled, your eyes falling closed, "Thank you for taking me tonight. For trusting me. I... thank you."

"I love you too darling," Astarion murmured back, kissing your forehead, "You get better by the day. I really am proud of you."

It was true. You were learning, adjusting. Give him a decade and you'd be completely immersed in your new life, all thoughts of useless things like "freedom" forgotten.

You were his. Until the end of time, you'd be together.

He'd make sure of that.

[atouchofireland]

PR Perception & Consequences: Luke Newton

[This analysis is from the perspective of a lover of story with a Masters in Publishing & Writing, with ties to a publicist with 20+ years experience.]

I didn't watch Bridgerton until a while after s2 came out. Partly because I hesitate with new shows and mainly because I hate waiting years between seasons.

I LOVE Derry Girls because it clicks with my mainly Irish family. So, I knew who Nicola was as Clare before watching Bridgerton, but nothing else.

That leads into the LN assumptions.

From what I can tell as a general viewer of the show and Social Media, he came from musical theater and Disney stuff in the UK before landing the Colin role in his mid 20's.

During this time, aka 2019/2020-2023, LN had a gf named Jade for that whole time.

Media reported that they'd broken up some time at the end of filming in June 2023. Then, there is some reports saying he got with his current partner, mere months later in at least 8/23 if not sooner. (Nic is known for keeping her even longterm relationships a secret, but Luke's previous gf would post a few pics and vids here and there.)

This is where PR should've started to protect his image before the first premiere and press tour even happened.

At this point, late 2023, Luke has not posted even a hint of his supposed app gf anywhere. Then he leaves for a 6-month world tour with his friend, of 5 years that he has easy chemistry with, but now they both are not with longtime partners.

LN leaned into the romantic press interviews with his friend because he was comfortable with her and it promoted the show.

Here's where his friends as PR shows dumbass judgment.

I believe I saw something about the app gf attending the 1st premier in London, before the tour, but it wasn't paparazzi-d. Whereas, after the WT, the 1st LN news was pap photos with this girl at the after party 2nd half premier. Basically, PURPOSEFULLY taking the romance illusion away from the couple that the actors built for the months leading up to this.

Bad PR leads off from here: self-described introvert Luke goes to Milan with 'gf',' fair enough it's fashion week. But, THEN he's BACK in Italy on "holiday." Getting paparazzi pics of him they didn't even get on his World Press Tour. Then possibly in Greece, continuing some vacation? So much of this shit makes zero sense both PR-wise and normal person-wise.

For example of good PR capitalizing on lead roles: Nicola is on a movie rn, she's part of A-list representation, she's possibly a future bond girl. Johnny Bailey was shooting a drama, Wicked, and his Bridgerton cameos at the same time. Simone is starring in a motion picture out soon.

The rumors of LN's friend Rory running his socials is horrible because: 1) Rory seems like a douchebag who wants more shirtless pictures of himself on his non-famous account than of his gf. 2) He puts Luke's skinny "similar to his gf" wannabe influencer gf on his instagram without hyping up any on Luke's actual work and projects.

This all gives off the vibe of this friend being resentful, taking advantage of Luke breaking up with his longterm gf and deciding to get more built for the show, and convincing him he needs the "hot rebound" for himself and image. As always, that gross straight man is wrong. All his friends say he's so sweet and quiet and genuine.

How I perceive him from his own press: Had a supportive, longterm gf who was also an aspiring actor as they were both coming up in their early 20's. LN started working out so much to get lean & abs to feel on-par with the other Bridgerton guys. Him and his gf grew apart, maybe even felt resentment, while LN was shooting so long for BS3. Shooting raps.

This is the overall perception that makes me and I think many others so mad: Luke had a sweet, curvy, talented gf for 4 years. And he was a thicker tall guy, not fat, not skinny, not ripped but amazingly curvy in the male way that's rare. He got all built for Bridgerton when Nic refused cuz it isn't necessary for the characters. And after all this real-life and on-screen romance with a mid-size woman, after becoming a "muscly man," he shows up with a stick-figure wanna be dance influencer.

His actions of allowing his pr/friend to paint him as if he gets "hot women" now that he's "desirable" is what makes me fucking sick about the perception of him and I think this is why so many Bridgerton fans in the SM sphere got the ick.

[male-body-swap-lover]

Time Travel Christmas Part 2

Christmas 2023. I can’t believe I’ve managed to live this long. Once my wife, or I mean my grandmother, but really my wife died, I didn’t think I had the will to go on. But here I am. What a life I have led. Once I was transported back in time into my grandfather’s body, I was so worried. How would I make it through. However, it all seemed to work out. I got my grandfather’s memories and knowledge as well as I retained my own. My body could run on autopilot. It was quite amazing. The things I have seen. The moments in history that I have experienced, I will never forget. Quite frankly, I barely remember that I am supposed to be Roger Braddock the 3rd. I am Roger Braddock the 1st.

I was also worried about the butterfly effect. I was afraid I would change the future if things did play out perfectly how they happened originally. Would I even be born the same in the future. Turns out, nothing much changed. I did use some knowledge and, in this life, my family was a bit wealthier. It helped to know when certain stocks were going to grow. Nothing unethical about that. Now it’s Christmas 2023 and I am over at my son’s house. We are waiting for everyone else to show up. I am browsing his library and came across this photo.

I remember when this was taken. God the 1970’ were so much fun. He is probably 14 in this photo. I could never kick that smoking habit, but luckily, I never developed cancer. Just a wicked cough. I wish I could be young again, even my 40’s when this photo was taken. Go back to those fun fashions. As a formerly gay man, I certainly had fun with that. But in this life, I was straight. I followed what my body wanted. At least I have those memories. I let my son know that I was tired and am going to go lie down and wait for everyone to show up. I get so sleepy so easily these days. However, I suppose when one is in their 90’s, life is tiring.

Damn, what time is it. I slept so well. God, I feel so refreshed and lighter. It’s like I’ve lost weight. As I looked around the room, I realized I wasn’t where I fell asleep. This room was familiar. It’s what my son’s room had looked like in the 1970’s. Wait a minute; this is my son’s room, in my old house. How could that be the case. We remodeled this room and we sold this house years ago. I look down and see that my stomach is gone and I am wearing an outfit straight out of the 1970’s. Oh my god! Not again. I jumped up and looked in the mirror.

Holy Shit! I’m my son, well also my dad depending on the way you look at it. I must be about 18. How can this have happened again. It must be because I wished to be young again, but I also meant to be a younger Roger Braddock the 1st, or back to my original body. Now this means I am going to be living the life of Roger Braddock the 2nd. I wonder which world I will be living in. The one where my grandfather was my grandfather, or the one where I was Roger Braddock the 1st. What a story this would make, if only anyone would believe it. I kind of forgot how sexy my son was. He was so athletic and never lacked for a girlfriend. This could actually be really fun.

“Roger, the family is arriving. Come downstairs and greet them!”

That’s my mother. I look over at a calendar and realize that it is Christmas 1977. So, I am a senior in high school and am 18. Guess it’s time to open my presents. See some people that have passed on. Relieve these memories again. This is kind of fun. I get to live another life. I wonder how long I will be Roger Braddock the 2nd? I quickly change out of this colorful shirt and put on a Christmas sweater. I brush my hair and go downstairs. Well, this is groovy. Maybe I’ll go out to a disco later. The world is my oyster yet again.

[sibyllinebooks]

this came to me in a vision at 4am and then i went to the er a couple hours later so here:

a wicked!teen wolf au where stiles is fiyero i have a DREAM so i’m word vomiting this out

hear me out: lydia is glinda ( duh ). allison is shenshen. liam is pfannee. scott i’m so sorry but in this instance you are boq. reader takes the place of elphaba. the plot line is a little different bc obviously lydia wanting stiles initially did not happen in teen wolf and scott did not like lydia ( they did make out but irrelevant to this ). sorry but can you just IMAGINE stiles with the confidence of fiyero tigelaar. imagine stiles doing dancing through life and as long as you’re mine. sorry but i’d lose my damn mind. instead of the lion cub it’s a wolf pup to keep an homage to source material. i just think stiles being a prince makes sense and also i have been thinking about both of these things for an ungodly amount so have this mash-up.

this can also double as a lydia x reader fic if you’re a gelphie truther bc i’m telling you right now lydia was sapphic but the writers were cowards. i know she’s kissed a girl before and i think popular is very much lydia vibes. like?? seen as dumb but using her attractiveness to her advantage to get what she wants and is actually very smart? lydia martin is that you are you a glinda variant.

[miriani-lavellan]

Final Thoughts

Well, I beat the game. Some thoughts:

The Very Good

Combat (for mages, haven't played the rest) was a massive improvement over DA:I. It got a little repetitive after I learn the button combos, but this was solved by respeccing and doing something different. Fights felt pretty satisfying, and I didn't feel like I was getting interrupted during side quests/exploration as much as DA:I. And FINALLY, finally, I had to think a little tactically again. Not as much as in Origins, but definitely more than DA:I. It turned out not being able to take control of my companions directly didn't matter as much - you do command and direct them when you tab.

It looks fkn great. And I mean, amazing. The marketing really didn't do it justice - it made it seem super stylised for some reason. It's honestly just like a massively upgraded DA:I - they clearly saw they were doing it right that game and chose to develop it further. Everywhere we went, I felt like I was properly in Thedas again, and I super super wanted to dive into the screen and have a little ocean swim at some points.

Sidequests were all excellent. No more wasting time with busy work, every side quest felt like it was worth the effort, either for a little satisfying side content, or puzzle solving. And they matter more in the outcome of the area, too.

Your decisions have outcomes later in the game, and the game makes it explicitly clear this is happening because you did this. As someone with limited time on their hands, I didn't want to save scum or end up irritated because I didn't realise I was making a key decision.

I thought the companions were an amazing bunch, and I enjoyed getting to know all of them. The quests did an amazing job of making me feel like I was a leader trying to get to know the people they were trusting with so many lives - I felt like I was putting effort into my relationships and being rewarded for it.

The ending quests were fantastic. I bawled my eyes out at The Reveals.

The CULTURAL differences!! We are NOT in the south any longer, and also decades have passed since the attitudes and actions of some key characters in the series. I love that Rook's outlook on spirits, mages, and other things seems to be different from our past heroes. I love that things are different here. The vice grip of the Andrastian chantry is not present here, and that was a culture shock for me. We've been hearing this whole time from characters with different 'unusual' outlooks on life, usually because they came from the places we visit in this game. Now we really get to see it.

The sorta 'key' NPCs, Isabela, Teia & Viago, Antoine & Evka, the Viper and Tarquin, Irilen and Strife were all amazing.

The Good

The music was lovely. I missed Trevor Morris - I feel like he captured Thedas best, and there were no moments where the soundtrack hit me like In Hushed Whispers and Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts - but the music was definitely great.

We got a LOT of closure on big, big questions. I'm sure the lore people will point out some inconsistencies or whatever, but for me it answered and satisfied all of my questions in a big big way. Felt pretty good to have guessed correctly on some things too!

I love that you got some input in the Inquisitor's actions, instead of it being determined by only your 'past choices' selection. In the light of what were uncovering, that was extremely appreciated. I'm still not sure I made the right decision, but what happened and what can happen definitely felt like proper closure on the Solavellan era that tied me up SO bad for a while.

The romances (and I've seen them all, if only played Lucanis) were fulfilling, although I agree with some comments they might have been paced better. Lucanis' lock-in scene was particularly confusing - how it goes down makes perfect sense for the character don't get me wrong, but some follow up would have been nice.

I love the companion relationships that blossom when you have your romance locked in. There was a little set-up that made me jealous between Neve and Lucanis early on though. :)

What I Sorta Wished were Different

The pacing of the whole story felt quite... idk. It seemed all piled towards the end, in a way. The main quests definitely didn't seem to tell a continuous thread like the DA:I quests did - there was a kind of theming and stuff with those that DA:V doesn't seem to have. That being said, there was nothing about the main story I didn't enjoy as such.

I wished we could hear a little more about our decisions from past games. Even a few codices would have been nice.

The Well of Sorrows should have mattered.

It would have been nice to get more variation in armour. There were lots in DAI that seemed to fit my character thematically, I didn't really find any for Rook I really loved. I thought some of the companion armours were a little gaudy looking too.

[lime-bloods]

Not an Enigma, and Certainly Not a Curse: the "Ultimate Self" in Hussie's Own Words

I've found myself, lately, in several conversations in a row where the other guy and myself weren't on the same page about what the Ultimate Self meant; and though I welcome the opportunity for discussion, explaining my position over and over again has cost me minutes of my screen life that I simply won't win back. So this post is a departure from my usual fare in that it's more for my own benefit than that of anybody else.

I've been over Davepeta's "superceding bodyless and timeless persona that crosses the boundaries of paradox space" enough already, so if you're interested in the Ultimate Self as it is in Homestuck, I recommend you read "Homestuck's Gnosticism: The Conflict", and then, if that piques your attention, you continue with the follow-up "The World/The Wheel". For the purposes of this post, though, I want to keep analysis, interpretation and hypothesising to a minimum. As the title indicates, this is the Ultimate Self not as I describe it, or as characters describe it, but - so to speak - straight from the horse's mouth.

In Andrew Hussie's commentary on Homestuck: Book 6, p. 312:

Oftentimes, when characters lose certain qualities that came to define them, there's this sense of liberation they seem to experience. They become a happier, more relieved, easier-going version of themselves. When Aradia ditches a defining quality we came to know her by (being dead), she becomes a much happier and self-actualized Aradia. Sollux also seems to be chilling out now that his defining properties (bifurcation, etc.) have been KO'd. He had a mouth full of gnarly teeth that gave him a wicked lisp (gone), eyes full of nasty laser beams (gone, along with his eyesight), and a brain full of doomsday visions and bipolar disorder (also gone—well, maybe not the bipolar thing, because that's probably not how that works, but whatever). You get more of this kind of thing in even higher degrees with some of the fusion stuff that happens later (Arquius, Davepeta), where characters become almost euphoric versions of themselves for having been completely liberated from certain self-limitations which previously defined them. The concept of an "ultimate self," which appears much later, probably has its roots way back to stuff like this, which got the ball rolling on the idea that a more complete or fulfilled self is one that becomes free from mortal limitations, or the idiosyncrasies which comprise a specific instance of one version of yourself. Hence an ultimate self is an aggregate of someone's full potential. It's not just doing away with negative traits, but summing up all iterations of yourself, including ones without those traits, allowing you to move beyond them. Or maybe more accurately, to view them as insignificant in the grand totality of what a person really is.

Importantly, what Hussie does here is draw the conceptual line from the themes of Acts 1-5 to what are often interpreted by some as radically different, even left-field themes through Act 6. Think of this as an extension of one of Homestuck's meta-themes, where the comic undergoes a series of escalations that take simple conflicts to their logical extremes: we start the story worried about a Reckoning which might destroy the Earth, then end up with the more pressing concern that a Rapture is about to end reality as we know it. The Ultimate Self is the end result of the exact same kind of escalation; where the God Tiers are a method of becoming a better version of oneself by merging with one's "ideal" dream body, the Ultimate Self is the logical conclusion that one can become the best version by unifying with every body.

To draw my own conceptual line back to Homestuck: Book 5, page 409:

This connects to the basic question of whether to embrace the regimentation of a heroic path conveniently laid out for you (the expectation), or to reject it as the shallow and rigid confinement of personal destiny (the deviation). These issues are expressed through the fundamental language of platonic idealism: perfect ideas of things, and then specific, imperfect instances of those ideas, or varied permutations, evolutions, or hacks of those ideas through alchemy. The way Sburb "should" go is an ideal (expectation), but the disastrous, chaotic way it actually goes is an imperfect instance (deviation). An "idea" of a person, such as Rose, along with her regimented heroic quest for growth, and all the great things she might imagine herself to become if she followed it, is an ideal (expectation). The messy, flawed, yet more genuinely human individual she does become resulting from her errant choices and rejection of formalism, is an imperfect instance of an ideal (deviation). What's the bottom line here? This is a lot. I know it's a lot. Homestuck is, in fact, a lot.

I've added some of my own emphasis there again, but that whole extract is worth reading. The reason I bolded that part is because this "Platonic idealism" is something Hussie talks about a lot in his commentary, and I think that commentary is essential reading for anyone who wants to even get their foot in the door on this topic. Again, this is something I've blogged about extensively already, so there's more than just Hussie's word to take for it if you're really interested; but for the sake of this post, I'll finish off with, again, what Hussie himself has to say on the matter, all the way back in Homestuck: Book 1, page 123:

With things like Athenums and Perfectly Generic Objects locked and loaded, Sburb architecture seems to be circling widely around a game abstraction-based systemization of Platonic idealism. Homestuck deals with what I am going to roughly characterize as THEMES.

[kevinsreviewcatalogue]

Review: The Crow (1994)

A remake of The Crow just came out last weekend. I heard it sucked, so I decided to go back and watch the original instead.

The Crow (1994)

Rated R for a great amount of strong violence and language, and for drug use and some sexuality

<Originally posted at https://kevinsreviewcatalogue.blogspot.com/2024/08/review-crow-1994.html>

Score: 4 out of 5

Stop me if you've heard this one: exactly one year after they did something horrible, a group of hoodlums are stalked and murdered by a ruthless, seemingly supernatural killer who happens to look a lot like the man whose death they were responsible for. It's a setup for a slasher movie in the vein of Prom Night or I Know What You Did Last Summer, a mood that this film definitely tilts towards in how it frames its killer, but make no mistake: The Crow is not a slasher movie, and the killer is not a villain. Rather, Eric Draven is framed as a gothic superhero, somebody who makes Batman look like Superman, a fact that, together with its stunning style, an outstanding performance from Brandon Lee that would've made him a star under better circumstances, and the real-life on-set tragedy that made its production notorious, has made this film an enduring classic among generations of goth kids, horror fans, and superhero fans. It's a movie that's pure style over substance, but one where that style is so much fun to watch, and the substance just enough to hold it up, that I barely noticed the thinly-written supporting cast or the many moments where it was clear that they were working around Lee's death trying to get the film in a releasable state. Thirty years later, The Crow is a film that's simultaneously of its time but also timeless, and simply a rock-solid action thriller on top of it.

Set in Detroit, where the weak are killed and eaten (the film barely mentions the setting, but the comic it's based on makes it explicit), the film starts on Devil's Night where a young couple, the musician Eric Draven and his fiancé Shelly Webster, are brutally murdered in their apartment by a gang of criminals, who we later learn targeted them because Shelly was involved in community activism to prevent evictions in a neighborhood controlled by the ruthless crime lord Top Dollar. However, according to legend, the souls of the dead are taken to the afterlife by a crow, and if somebody died in an especially tragic way that they didn't deserve, then that crow can resurrect them to give them a chance to set things right. This is what happens to Eric exactly one year later, causing him to set out to take his revenge on his and Shelly's killers and protect those who they continue to menace.

A huge component of this film's mystique to this day revolves around Brandon Lee, and how it was intended as his big star vehicle that likely would've been his ticket to the A-list if not the fact that, thanks to its chaotic production and the crew's lackadaisical attitude towards safety, he wound up suffering a fatal accident on set with a prop gun that turned out to have not been as safe as the crew thought it was. (Chad Stahelski, who went on to direct the John Wick movies, was one of Lee's stunt doubles here, and now you know why production on the John Wick movies never uses real guns on set.) The tragedy alone would've given Lee an aura comparable to River Phoenix (who was also considered for the part), Heath Ledger, Paul Walker, or Chadwick Boseman, especially given how his father, martial arts legend Bruce Lee, also died young, but the truth is, watching him as Eric Draven, this really was the kind of star-in-the-making performance that makes you mourn the lost potential almost as much as the man himself. Lee walks a fine line here between playing an unstoppable killer who's framed as almost a horror monster on one hand and still making him sympathetic, charismatic, and attractive on the other, the result feeling like a man with a hole in his heart fueled by rage at what he lost who seems to be straight-up enjoying his revenge at times, especially with some of his one-liners. Had he lived, I could easily imagine Lee having had the career as an action hero that Keanu Reeves ultimately did, such was the strength of his performance in this one film. He kicks as much ass as you'd expect, especially given that he also handled much of the fight choreography and took every opportunity in the action scenes to show off how he was very much Bruce Lee's son, but he also brings a strange warmth to the character such that I didn't just wanna see him kick ass and take names, I wanted to see him win.

That strange warmth is ultimately the film's secret weapon. Its dark aesthetics and tone and grisly violence go hand-in-hand with a story about loving life, because this is the one life we have to live and it could easily be taken away from us. Gothic it may be, but nihilistic it is not. Eric may look like a horror movie monster, but he is still a hero, a man who goes out of his way to help and protect the innocent and redirect those who are on the wrong path just as he goes after the unrepentant bastards who bring misery to the community. He felt more like a proper superhero than a lot of examples from movies in the last ten years, which seem more interested in the "super" part of the equation and the awesome fight scenes it enables than the "hero" part. There's a reason the tagline on the poster is "Believe in Angels," and not "Vengeance is Coming" or something along those lines. At its core, this is a movie about getting a second chance to set things right, one in which the things that have to be set right just so happen to involve a lot of righteous violence, and by the time the credits rolled, I felt oddly uplifted having seen it. Not exactly the feeling you expect to have when you watch a film with this one's reputation!

The villains here are mostly one-note caricatures, working largely in the context of the film as a whole and because of the actors playing them. Top Dollar is a cartoonish, if charismatic, madman who wants to burn down the city just for the hell of it, his half-sister/incestuous lover Myca is a sadistic vamp who cuts out women's eyes, and his assorted goons all constantly behave in ghoulish ways so that you don't feel bad when Eric kills them. Ernie Hudson's character, the police officer Albrecht, exists largely to serve as a stand-in for the audience learning who and what Eric is. They work less as characters than as part of the fabric of the world that this movie builds, a version of Detroit that resembles a mix of Gotham City out of Tim Burton's Batman and something close to a post-apocalyptic wasteland. It's a city where the streets are winding, decrepit, shrouded in darkness, and all too often devoid of people, as though everybody moved out to the suburbs a long time ago, with the only centers of activity being nightclubs, bars, and pawn shops that are all run by gangsters. Between this and Dark City, it definitely feels like director Alex Proyas has a thing for this style of urban noir setting taken all the way into the realm of the utterly fantastical, and he makes the city feel... well, "alive" isn't the right word given that it's depicted as a place that's falling to pieces, but definitely a character in its own right. He does a lot to build this film's mood, staging much of it like a horror movie whether it's in the scenes of Eric stalking his prey or the action scenes where an unstoppable supernatural killer shrugs off everything that gets thrown at him like Jason Voorhees, and it works wonders in making for a very unique take on the superhero genre, especially thirty years later when the genre has come to be associated with blockbuster action. The soundtrack, too, does wonders to set the mood, loaded with '80s goth rock and '90s alternative that pairs well with Eric Draven's backstory as a rock star (especially when paired with the scenes of him playing guitar on the roof in the dead of night) and which I imagine turned a lot of young Gen-Xers into fans of The Cure. That kind of music might be a cliché today, but there's a reason it endures.

The Bottom Line

Skip the remake and check out the original, which remains a classic for a reason. It's not a perfect film, but it's one that still holds up to this day as not just a monument to a man who died too soon but also as a very well-made action/horror flick that I'm surprised more superhero movies since haven't tried to imitate.

[only-lonely-stars]

Hair As Gold As Straw (Chapter 7 - Only a Taste)

[Prologue] // [Chapter 6 of 9] // [Chapter 7 of 9 - you are here!] // [Chapter 8 of 9] – (FFN) (AO3)

Part of the @ninjago-fairy-tale-au!

Summary:

Once upon a time, Princess Vania of Shintaro lived in an ivory castle in an ivory city. Her father, King Vangelis, kept her safe in her tower, where no one could hurt her and she could not hurt herself... until the day when she ran away. A Colania Snow White retelling.

Chapter summary:

Something isn't quite as it seems in Shintaro. No one will be resting easily tonight...

Not unlike the previous few nights, Cole's dreams were haunted by the image of Vania. Again and again his mind repeated the scene from the night before, etching it ever deeper into his memory. In his dreams, it was as clear as the moment it happened; the princess' kiss, her love and affection, and the underlying faith it revealed. Not once would he have stirred that night if he were left undisturbed, his dreams more comfort than anything else in recent memory.

However, such was not to be.

In the early hours of the morning, Cole awoke, his entire being on edge. He sat up, his sleep-dulled eyes surveying his room, yet finding nothing. All his senses cried for him to notice what was out of place, but he simply could not find it, until the moon's pale light reflected off a silver blade.

Slowly, the knight got out of bed and retrieved the knife. It was undecorated, not gilded nor inset with gems, nor etched, but its handle was made of mother of pearl and its hilt was gold, like the armor of the Shintaran guards. The blade guard was similarly gold, and the blade was silver, long and curved, sharpened to a wicked edge.

Cole turned it over in his hands. This blade falling was what had awoken him; he was convinced of that fact. Thus was the question; who had entered his room?

For a long time, he pondered that fact. He did not find an answer, but eventually fell asleep again, his dreams shifting to the image of Princess Vania, who held the knife in her hands. Repeatedly she turned it over, offering it to him. If he took it, she would vanish; if he did not, she would leave. Every time, he reached out, but never reached her.

When the sun's light eventually shone upon him, he woke easily. He mourned the loss of his dreams, but resolved not to let them trouble him. A look into his mirror was all he needed to clear his mind. In the image it presented, the princess slept peacefully with her dragon beside her, her hair splayed out onto her pillow as if its golden sections were reaching for the sun. The knight smiled, knowing he would see her later that day, and decided not to worry. Perhaps the king would know what had occurred that night.

-----

Not much later, Cole came into the grand dining room in the palace, refreshed and clean for the first time since he entered the mountain. Inside the room, the Upply waited for him, situated in their seats around the head of the table. Cole was given the place of honor, to the right of the head, with the place to the left kept for the princess. He took his place without much fanfare, greeting his companions. Shortly thereafter, the king entered, and they all stood to greet him.

"Good morning, my most honored guests!" the king said. "Please, sit. You are the ones to be honored today."

The four of them sat, at which point the king did also.

"Your highness, may I be so bold as to ask where the princess is?" Cole asked.

"There is no need for such humility, Sir Cole," the king immediately responded, his voice soothing and smooth as honey. "She will be here shortly. After such a harrowing experience below, I am sure she needed her rest."

"Of course," Cole affirmed. "By all means, she should have it."

"It is just as well for us," the king said. "I mean to ask you something, Sir Cole, if you would allow me, before she arrives."

"You need only call me Cole, Your Majesty."

"Very well, Cole." The king smiled, charming. "You recall our conversation from before you descended, yes?"

"I do," Cole replied. "Your offer was most gracious."

"I am glad you think so. Perhaps you would be willing to discuss it with me again; an adventurer like yourself should be rewarded handsomely for such a noble deed."

Cole shook his head. "Your highness–"

Just as he was about to speak, the doors to the dining room were opened, and all heads turned. Through the doors strode Princess Vania, resplendent in her morning gown, blue and silver cascading from her form in waves. The king beamed.

"Ah, Vania! Good morning, my priceless daughter." He stood and embraced her.

"Good morning, Father." She kissed his cheek and sat in her place at the table. When her eyes finally met Cole's, she smiled. Her eyes twinkled with unspoken happiness. "Good morning, Sir Cole."

"Good morning, your highness," he said, unable to say any more.

She smiled, and through it seemed to shine with joy. She looked to the Upply. "Good morning to you as well, sirs."

The Upply smiled back at her, each greeting her in their own way.

The king put his hands together. "Now that you have joined us, let us have our morning meal." He beckoned servants forward, and they laid down a plate for each person, laden with all sorts of lovely foods– crepes, fruit with cream, fine sausage, perfectly cooked eggs, and more. Each of them began to eat in their own measure.

As they ate, Cole could not help but look up at Vania, who likewise glanced at him. Every time their eyes met, he had to smile, and likewise hers never fell. However, the connection was broken by the king, who eventually turned to Cole.

"I have been a poor host, Cole. I meant to ask how your stay has been. I trust my staff has been hospitable to you?"

"Yes, of course," Cole said. "They have treated me well."

"I do hope you have rested well, then. Tonight will be an evening to remember." The king's eye twinkled knowingly.

Cole gathered his courage. "I did, your highness, if it were not for the fact that I was wakened abruptly last night. I do not know by whose hand, but I found a dagger on the floor of my room."

Vania gasped quietly, the picture of concern, but when the king looked at her in displeasure, she immediately schooled her features. The king, to his credit, seemed concerned.

"That is a serious matter," he said. "Pray tell, what did the dagger look like?"

"It was a silver dagger with a curved blade. It had a golden hilt and blade guard, with a mother of pearl grip. I have it with me, if you would like to see it."

"I would."

Cole took it from its sheath on his belt and offered it to the king. The king examined it carefully. "This is the knife of a Shintaran guard, but it is missing its identification. I do not know how this could possibly have been in your room."

"I do not either, but it was. It fell to the floor and woke me up."

The king placed it on the table, pointing it toward the foot of the table. "This is a serious accusation. I will have my guardsmen searched most carefully to find the perpetrator. Trespassing is not welcomed in my kingdom."

"I do not think it was simply trespassing, your majesty." Cole gestured to it. "It was something more sinister in nature."

"Why do you suspect so?" the king asked, scrutinizing him.

Cole raised his chin ever so slightly. "One does not enter a sleeping person's room with a knife in one's hand if harm is not meant to be dealt."

"Nonsense. It must have fallen from a sheath," the king dismissed.

"I believe you," Vania said, interrupting their conversation. "It would be too coincidental to be anything but an attempt on your life." Every fiber of her being exuded intelligence, as if she was being challenged to be wrong.

"It is not possible," the king dismissed again. "Your reasoning, while sturdy, cannot possibly be the explanation." He looked at Vania with a scrutinizing power, as if to measure her defiance.

She raised her chin. "It cannot be disregarded, either. I will not have my savior's complaint go unchecked."

"I have already pledged to have the guardsmen searched, daughter. When the suspect is found, a full investigation will begin."

"What will you do if he is not?" Cole asked.

"I will search the barracks next," the king replied. "Your concerns will be met, Sir Cole, as will my daughter's." He looked severely displeased. "As for you, my daughter, you would be wise to watch your tongue. A woman's place is not in talk of combat."

"Of course," she said, conceding. She returned to her meal, defiance only visible in the way she stabbed at her food with her fork. Cole watched her for a moment.

"Thank you for hearing me, your highness."

"Of course. It is the least I can do for the man who rescued my daughter." Again the image of grace, the king finished his meal and stood. "If you will excuse me, I must continue the preparations for this evening. You may roam the palace and the gardens to your heart's content. Please, enjoy your day." With that, he left.

When the door shut, Vania looked up from her plate.

"Remember my warning," she whispered to Cole. He nodded, and she rose from her seat. A servant came to take away her plate. "I look forward to seeing you all tonight at the feast," she said.

"You as well, Princess," Cole responded. With that, she left.

-----

Vania smiled as she walked through the halls of the palace, Chompy running at her feet. She hummed a quiet melody as she walked. It was late afternoon, and she had just spent the day outside in the gardens with Chompy. Now that it was later, she had to go prepare for the feast that evening. However, that was hardly the only reason why she was smiling.

Despite all her misgivings, so far her father had proven all her concerns wrong. It was concerning, as was his behavior that morning. However, she resolved to keep her positivity, no matter what her father did. In such a way of thinking, it did nothing to dampen her high spirits. In fact, it only served to sweeten the joy she felt when she thought about what had come to pass the night before.

Simply thinking about those events again made the princess smile. She had taken Cole away to her secret hiding place, which no one knew about, and warned him about her father in no uncertain terms. That man, in all his sweetness, had promised to protect her, even if it cost his life. He had pledged to protect her– that could not be anything but love, surely.

In her mind's eye, she could envision his face before her in crystal clarity. It was creased with care, eyes sparkling with sincerity in the shadows of the alcove. Her hands still felt like they did when he held them, his rough ones enveloping hers with more gentleness than she could have imagined. He had looked at her as if she was more than just a treasure to him– no, she was a woman in his eyes, and one he cared for.

Was there really anything to wonder about? She had kissed him, sweet and warm in the darkness. He had not responded in kind, but she knew with clarity that she had only caught him off-guard. Next time, he would not be so still.

Eventually, she reached the door to her rooms and entered, ignoring the guards stationed outside. Once the door latched, she smiled widely and went to her armoire, pulling out her favorite dress as she pushed away her previous thoughts. The dress was gold and black silk, with white detailing and a full skirt that swirled out when she spun in it. She turned to Chompy and held it up.

"It's finally time to wear this dress. What do you think?"

The dragon chirped happily.

"That's what I thought!" She laughed and went to her wash room, dressing quickly with her petticoats and stays and dress. In the front under her dress, she tied her stays. Then she closed the dress, the laces criss-crossed all the way down her bodice and fastened at the bottom with white silk ties. When she was finished, she twirled around and went to show Chompy.

"What do you think?" she asked, enjoying the creature's reaction. "Tonight will be wonderful, Chompy. I'm sorry you can't come with."

A servant knocked at the door. "Your Highness?"

"Come in!" she called, cheerfully turning to see the servant enter. In her hands was a basket of apples.

"Your father sent you a treat, Princess, for before you go." She placed it on the vanity. "Shall we do your hair?"

"Yes, we shall!" Vania said. "What do you think would go best with the dress?"

"One can never go wrong with curls," the servant said. Vania sat at the vanity and she began going about doing her hair. A short time later, the princess' hair was curled to perfection, contrasting with her lovely dress. With a choice of jewelry, her preparations were complete.

Vania got up and spun around, letting her skirt flare out. She looked in the mirror and beamed. "It looks perfect!"

"You look beautiful, Princess. Are you dressing up for our guests?" the servant asked, smiling with a knowing twinkle in her eye.

"Perhaps I am," Vania admitted, flushing pink.

"Which guest would that be, then?"

"Sir Cole. Is that foolish?"

"Certainly not." The servant seemed to be amused. "Have a lovely time tonight."

"Thank you!" Vania called as the other woman slipped out the door. She spun one last time and sighed happily. "At least this is one good thing about being home."

Chompy chirped happily and went to grab an apple. He brought it to Vania, who had sat on the edge of her bed, and she patted him.

"Do you think I should whet my appetite?" she asked, to which Chompy nodded. "Okay, then, I'll try Father's gift, but only a taste." She looked at the apple, perfect in every way, and took a bite. It was delicious, perfectly sweet. Despite her earlier words, she took another bite, only to be cut off from trying more due to a deep yawn that seized her. When it passed, she laughed to herself. "Try some of this, Chompy."

The dragon took a bite and ate it happily. Vania yawned again.

"There's a little bit of time yet before I have to go." She looked toward the door. "Perhaps I will lay down for a few minutes…"

Vania laid down on her bed, not caring whether the covers were laid across her. Mere moments later, she was fast asleep, with her dragon joining her in the realm of unconsciousness.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Wayne Jackson x Sweet!Shy!Reader || Drabble

Plot: The scene with the cop stopping them in the road. You reach a hand between the seats and stop Wayne from doing something stupid. You also kinda reflect on your relationship with him 😅

Warnings: Attempted murder references and maybe a couple sexual ones too.

You're so uncomfortable around cops, these days. Before you met these men (before you met Wayne, particularly), you were very normal! Cops made you a little nervous even if you didn't do anything-- but now it was so much worse. Because you have done things... and you don't always know the everything you've done. You try to trust Lyle that you wont get too mixed up in all of this, but thats a hard thing to do. So you try to trust Norman... but thats hard, too.

So when the cop stopped your car on the side of the highway, you slumped in your seat behind the passenger seat, chewing on your thumbnail. Dale nudges you; Gives you a 'be fucking cool' look, but you s u c k at that. The only reason you're here is because of Wayne- you're not meant for this life!!

But still, you take a deep breath through your nose and flash the Officer a sweet grin when he peers into the back seats past Norman and Wayne. You even give a little, curt waive.

He nods, and keeps talking to Norman.

You can hear the blood pumping in your ears as you score your memory for any reason the Officer could arrest you right now, but your heads so jumbled you can barely think. you're so stuck in your own thoughts you miss out on what Dale said- it sounds to you like you're underwater.

But you do notice when, a few minutes later, the cop starts coming back to the car from his and Wayne (in front of you), pulls out his gun. Eyes widening immediately, your heartbeat speeding up awfully in your chest; hammering against your collar. Norman tells him to put it away, but he doesn't.

Before you can even think, you're reaching carefully past the back of Wayne's seat and taking hold of his arm. Numb fingers squeeze him there comfortingly as the cop strolls over. "Wayne." You whisper, desperate and hopeful. He'll listen to you, you're very well aware of the unlikely effect you have on him. You don't know how, or why, but he listens to you-- when you need him to. When you're scared.

The cop is getting closer, and you watch him with baited breath as you feel Wayne stop, taking in a tense breath, then lower his arm again. Letting out an unbelievably relieved breath, you slide your nervous gaze from the cop to the car's side mirror; in which Wayne's already looking at you.

Thank you, you mouth. You try to take your hand away, but as the Cop's leaning down to talk to Norman again through the drivers side window Wayne lifts his hand to holds yours where it is; giving you a little squeeze as his jaw tenses tighter, holding himself together.

... okay. You think, nervously. Now you're basically holding hands. Its nice. Fuck- you're never going to get over this. How s o f t this terrible man is with you, how you're actually with someone like him. You never in a million years expected that you, the shyest person ever, ended up with a criminal more than/double your age. You've seen how terrible he can really be; you should have run away the first time you did. The time he almost killed someone because that someone hit on you.

You remember the scene vividly. How you didn't really realise what happened, why your butt stung for a few moments- but Wayne had; yanking you behind him and pulling out the gun always tucked in the front of his jeans. How you had to b e g him, not to shoot the guy. Even though you were mortified. Then the blood on the floor when he didn't listen to you. Your frantic 911 call. The cops-

... but you didn't run away, for some reason that you still don't quite understand.

You remember how Wayne was smiling when the cops came; a wicked proud smile that told you he wasn't sorry at all. He grinned like that even with the cuffs on and when he was behind the iron bars, flirting with you through them like this wasn't a big deal.

... or maybe you completely understand it, you do, and you just don't want to admit it. Because admitting you like that part of him- at least when its defending you-- is terrifying.

You especially remember the gentle way he touched you before the cops and the ambulance came, cupping your jaw in one hand and telling it was worth it sweetheart. sorry. we're gonna be apart for a lil while, now, but you'll wait for me wont ya?

As Norman starts up the engine again and peels away from the Officer, Wayne's familiar voice breaks you out of your thoughts; causing your eyes to lift up to his in the side mirror again.

"'T's lucky my little sunflower was here to rein me in there, huh?" He gives you a wink.

"Yeah, lucky." Norman rolls his eyes, focused on the road.

"... Sunflower??" Dale snorts. What? You think, knitting your brows together. You like that! "More like rider. Right??" He chuckles, mortifying you with the dirty innuendo. Your eyes widen in surprise, before you hide your face in your hands, as the teasing for the rest of the ride back to Lyle begins.

[andthebubbles]

im back!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

so this shall be my full rambly review of wicked, as influenced by the very uncomfy seat, my 3.5ish hours of sleep, and the fact that i've only eaten three small things since i woke up... 7 hours ago........... (i started writing this at 8.30pm) (two mini choc chip biscuits (the arnott's ones) and a salmon cake (is that what it's called? i can't remember. it's the frozen one that you just chuck in the microwave for 1.5 mins))

FIYEROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO aghhh jb made me like him. like i said in my first post, WOW I WANTED HIM, WTF @ SELF. THE CHARM WAS JUST THAT GOOD. RUDE. (ofc if he had taken his clothes/shirt off, i would've stopped wanting him............. or WOULD I. HMM ONLY ONE WAY TO FIND OUT hmmm part 2?? haha)

i love that his horse talked. it works well for making it make sense re why he goes to elphaba later... or at least i hope it will. (because that made fuck-all sense in the musical lol.) it made excellent sense for the lion cub!! but i thought he should've cared a bit more about dillamond; however i can also see it working the way i did. so... no real complaints

i like their alternate meeting in the forest, heh. i wanna watch that again!!!

ETA: i also liked that he didn't care that she was green skfjgnkfg

ETA ETA: i also liked that they changed it from the musical; he was a bit mean there ("maybe the driver saw green and thought it meant go"); like, for fiyeraba who basically speedran their dating (they didn't date lmfao), ... yeah, fiyero had to be nicer AND perfect from the start. and intrigued by her. not sure what elphaba sees in him though.................. then again if she's like the rest of us............................. lmaoooo

i need fic about fiyero and his horse. talking to his horse. the horse ofc talking back

i NEEEEEED gliyeraba!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I DID NOT FEEL THIS AFTER WATCHING THE MUSICAL, BUT I REALLY DO FEEL IT AFTER WATCHING THE MOVIE. UMMMM JUST kjsnkjfgnfg the three of them lounging about on glinda's bed, and fiyero is just soooo happy with all of them being together, and basking in the attention, but also basking in THEM, and just happy to be with them. and glinda is like 'yayyyyy' *kicking her feet* and elphie is like, <33333333333 she has proper friends for the first time in her life!!! and they have lots of threesomes. WHERE'S MY OT3

i always need gelphie, ofc. lmao glinda was coming off as real jealous on the train platform when fiyero was simping for elphie, and glinda was like, excuse me?????????????? (glinda being jealous that she was losing elphie to fiyero, ofc, skjfngkjfn)

ETA: i would also like a fix-it fic. MOREEE FIX-IT FICS SO I CAN HAVE MY OT3 LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER ... TOGETHER

still not a fan of fiyeraba. the lion cub scene, yeah that was nice, but then there was face touching and m/f things happening and HGHRHGH can we not

i said this in the other post but omg jb just fucking lit up the screen; SCREEN PRESENCE ON POINT, dancing skjfngkfjg SOOOO good, i loved seeing his flexibility, AND, i loved seeing it HERE where he should be flexible/you can see he DANCES. when you see it with e.g. anthony, lmaoooo it's like 'why can this viscount bend his back so far backwards' skjnfgkgjffgk

also his singing was just pure sex

his stupid lil wave to elphie

i really wanna watch their first meeting scene again

i really wanna watch the whole of Dancing through life again. it was so amazing

another person i thought had really good screen presence was madame morrible. i didn't expect to like her!! she was great. every time she came on screen, mannn

the girls sing realllyyyy well. i like elphie. but, i'm not sure if it's because i'm already a jb fan, but i did feel like he was lighting up the screen as much as he was. that's probably just because i'm a jb fan skjfgnfkjgk

i just smiledddddddd through his bits in Dancing through life!!! man. i know there's a version out there atm on the interwebs, i'm considering getting it just to rewatch certain bits............... the quality is a bit meh though. idk if it's worth it

i LOVED the Wizard and I. that was so lovely. made me smile. Popular was good too, and What is this feeling. actually, the bits in between sometimes were a bit, eeehhh... like i was just waiting for the next song

all the songs were really good haha. the biggest improvement from musical to film was probably Something bad?? that was actually so good now in the film. Sentimental man is still eeehhhh.

the bit with the monkeys and the pain of the transformation is iirc a LOT clearer than what it was on stage. but i think that's understandable because you don't get close-ups there

so, haha, why were there no flying monkeys when elphie and glinda were up on the balcony thing after the hot air balloon had gone down

the hot air balloon and its fiery demise was a very good excuse to continue singing and not have the viewer/me being like, ahhh hellooo? are you not being chased??

Defying gravity, the end part....................................... i mean. i think if i'd never seen the musical, i would've been fine with it. i'm pretty fine with it. i think it's fine. sometimes i think i have too good a memory of the musical, so i start comparing the two, to the film's somewhat!detriment

One short day is even more amazing in the film version. and i liked the og cameos

No one mourns the wicked was good too. i feel like all the songs improved from the musical lol........................ apart from maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaybe Defying gravity. i just like the seamless ending part, not the gaps in it...

fiyero flirting with everyone is EVERYTHING. pan!fiyero!!! <3

anyway if i think off more to add i will eta it here~

ETA: it was so lovely to see jb on the big screen!!!! HE HAS SUCH PRESENCE, i am genuinely considering going to see jurassic world when it comes out now lol

ETA: i LOVE the mood change from One short day to when they go into the wizard's... tower thing... and all the locking doors! ominoussss

the costumes were great btw. highlights were glinda's pink dress (the first one), the costumes that chenoweth and menzel wore, and fiyero's blue outfit with the gold (bronze?) patterns and the boots. aaaaaaaaaaaaagh

ETA: naturally with my hearing (audio processing lmao) i missed everything the horse said... where is the transcript! haha

ETA: i LOVED nessarose and boq's dance!

ETA: ohh!! why did they miss glinda's joke with the wand where she smacks it on her hand and is like "is this thing on??"

ETA: im so sorry why is the last part of the lion cub scene so funny skjfgkjfgkkg pls "you're bleeding" "am i" and then sfgfjgk why does he flinch (that could be a fic!) and then he chickens out from(?) kissing her and just runs off into the fucking woods, halp, where exactly is he taking that cub to safety???? ksjkggk does he know the secret Animal hideout; oh well maybe his horse does!!!

btw shiz is a really nice uni, architecture-wise? and the location. and the water!! and the random dried up ocean (?) out the back lmao

[romana-after-dark]

Ghost of You: Chapter 3

Ellie Miller & Joel Miller

ft. Tommy Miller, Lorenzo and Zach Aleverano

Summary: 16 years after her mom and dad's death, Ellie is finding her place in Jackson, being raised by her Uncle Tommy with the help of her uncle's Lorenzo and Zach. She loves them, but can't help but feel stifled. Soon, she finds out her suspicions were true, and her uncles have been lying to her. Will Ellie learn the truth? Can she trust anyone in this situation?

Takes place after The Wrong Way, but if you havn't read that series (too dark for you, too long, etc) you can read this. Since it's through Ellie's perspective, you can discover the truth alongside her.

DARK FIC! This is a dark!Joel, with canon typical violence and extra on the Joel. Anything discussed or shown in TWW is liable to be discussed here. There will be violence, but no shown sexual violence. Although this Joel is very dark, he is NOT DARK TO ELLIE. None of the things that happened to Ellie's mom are applicable to Ellie, but will be discussed.

Content warnings for entire series, not chapter by chapter unless more is added.

Talk/mentions/discussions of post rape, molestation, torture, violence, branding, forced breeding, major age gap (early 20's to later 40's), death. Child endangerment, major character death, murder, homophobic remarks, minor hate crime, manipulation, identity crisis.

This is longer than I meant it to be (4.5k words), but I needed these three scenes in there and I didn't want to rush. It's hard balancing showing you Ellie's relations with all 3 uncles AND Joel developed and change and shift.

Extra warning for homophobia, and Joel being Joel.

Also some lines/back and forth are directly from the game. I've been watching scenes a lot on youtube to really get the Jackson vibes. Remember, this isn't exactly Ellie we know. She's lead a different life than show/game Ellie, and she's16 so between ages of the games. I did my best to keep Ellie Ellie, but also how might Ellie be different growing up more sheltered.

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

“So I was thinking, if you think you can get away from Tommy for a few hour, I could meet up with my horse this time, bring you to where I live, if you’d like?”

Joel and Ellie were fishing in their usual spot, a secluded area that Ellie was pretty sure no one was going to outside of patrols; and this was her section.

“Really?” She looked up at Joel from where they both sat, his kind eyes looking down at her, awaiting an answer.

“If you aren’t ready, of course, we don’t gotta. I know it’s kinda a big step but-”

“I’d love to! If I’m gonna take over, I better start learning the land outside of Jackson, huh?”

He smiled at her fondly. “Yeah, it’ll be like bring your daughter to work day.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind, pre-outbreak joke. You can meet some of the guys if you want. If not I’ll tell ‘em to clear out while we’re there.”

Ellie’s eyes lit up. “Really?! Wicked!” 

“Careful.” He chuckled. “You’re starting to sound like you’re uncle Lorenzo.”

Two months ago, that would’ve been a compliment.

It took a few weeks to plan, but Ellie managed to trade some thing Joel brought her to Jesse in order for him to take her farming shift for the day. Jesse’s parents didn’t care where he was. After Ellie accidently cut Tommy’s hand, Maria thought it was only fair Ellie pick up the slack for what Tommy was unable to do. Well, unable wasn’t the right word. He had, in fact, tried to go to work as usual but got sent some when his dried wound broke open and bleed all over him. The news, of course, got to Maria who came to see him and found out the extent of the injury. Tommy refused to let Maria make Ellie do his work, not wanting her up on roofs or around heavy machinery, so Lorenzo swapped in for Tommy and Ellie was in charge of Lorenzo’s work for a few weeks while Tommy’s hand healed. He still helped as much as he could, but was frequently sent home with Maria telling him the point of a commun was everyone pitched in to help each other. Ellie found she liked the work, and even after Tommy got permission to work again she began doing agriculture in addition to patrol. It was summer, and she figured she needed to start doing more for the community. If she was going to take over for Joel, the more skills she had the better. She planned on earning her role, not just inheriting it.

Ellie stood at the porch, nervous. Not of Joel, no. She trusted him. Not nervous of the men inside, no. Joel wouldn’t let them do anything to her. No, this is the house. The house. The one she was conceived in, the one Joel took her mom to when he rescued her from Ellie’s grandpa, the one Joel and Uncle Tommy lived in for years before her mom, the one where her mom met Uncle Tommy and Uncle Lorenzo… This is the house she was born in, the house her mom died in. Joel had told her he and the men were gone when it happened, when the infected came. Tommy had found them, Tommy having come to the house for a reason he wouldn’t tell Joel… but he was the one that found the two of them before Joel came home and saw what happened.

“Do you wanna see her first?”

Behind the house is where her mom was buried.

“Please?”

Ellie stared at the grave, a headstone that read her first and middle name followed by Miller. Wife, mother, friend. ‘For they say you are taking the sunshine’ was inscribed on it, song lyrics Ellie knew right away. In the front, near patches of grass and a well worn area for sitting, there were flowers at varying stages of decomposition at the base… Joel brought them a lot, it seems. “Red River Valley” Ellie muttered about the lyrics, choking back tears. She will not cry, she told herself. “That’s uncle Zach’s favorite.”

Joel nodded in understanding. “Your moms too. Learned it on guitar just for her.”

Walking in the house, her chest felt tight, feeling like she may have another panic moment like she did when she first met Joel… all eyes were on her as she walked in, Joel telling them to ‘show some goddamn respect’ to shut them up. Walking in the dining room, however… her worry dissipated. Joel had set up a meal for her. “Figured you’d be hungry. I’m not the best cook, but…”

Thing was, it was good, vegetables and all. Joel even muttered manners after she ripped a large belch at the table. Afterwards, Joel asked if she wanted to see the room. Ellie knew which one.

It was strange, seeing the room she was born in, the room her mom died in. The window had been boarded up, a shitty mattress on the floor, a piano to the right and a few boxes of random things here and there.

“This is where your mom lived when she first came to live with us, before we were married. These are her things. You can look if you want.”

And look she did. Ellie flipped through the items, taking them out and holding them, smelling the clothes, boxes of pretty dresses, a few baby items that they had gotten preparing for her birth, a well-worn deck of cards… With Joel’s permission to explore and a heartsick eye watching her, she touched the things her mom touched, slowly getting a sense of who she was, dust-collected memories strewn about the room as Ellie took in everything she could: comic books that read Star Wars on the cover, a book called Jurassic Park, eventually landing on the piano.

She stood up from the floor of memories she never got to have, approaching the small piano with care and wonder. Zach taught her to appreciate instruments; they were rare, Lorenzo working extra hard and drawing in all his connections to bring Uncle Zach the one he had.

Tentatively, Ellie plucked out a few cords, drawing Joel over to where she stood.

“You play, Ellie June?”

Ellie nodded. “A little. Zach taught me some. I’m not good, but… I know Red River Valley.”

A soft smile spread across his sad face. “I’d love to hear you play, baby girl”

“I’m not singing. Fuck that shit.” She was quick to warn, making Joel chuckle and assure her he could handle that part.

With hesitant hands, she began playing the cords, and to her delight, Joel leaned over the piano as he began singing. He stared at her, intense and seemingly lost in thought. Ellie pulled her eyes away from his to concentrate on the keys. She couldn’t play when he looked at her with such pain…

“From this valley they say you are going…”

When concluded, the tears that glistened in Joel’s eyes were evident; a sharp agony pierced his so deep Ellie wondered how he made it through all these years without them. 

“I loved her” His voice croaked.

“I know”

“No, I just…” Joel closed his eyes and shook his head. “I know you know.” When he looked at her again, she was greeted with a soft smile, the kind of smile that warmed her front he sadness that ached for her mom, for him… “I love you both, Ellie June. Very much. Death don’t stop me from loving her.”

Ellie nodded, but was uncomfortable with emotions like that, so she abruptly changed the subject, looking over the box of clothes. “She had a lot of dresses.”

There was that smile again, that fond, wistful smile. “Yeah, it was impractical, really, but she looked so pretty… I brought her back everything I could find, she could usually sew them up to fit.”

She couldn’t remember the last time she wore a dress; Uncle Tommy stopped putting her in them when he realized how much Ellie did not like wearing them, never pressed the issue. Now she was regretting not having anything, just a tad.

“There’s a town dance coming up… I don’t even got a sundress or nothing.”

Joel immediately jumped at the opportunity, striding over to the closet and flipping past them. “You can look through these! They might not be your style, their awfully girlie-” he quickly turned around. “Not that you’re not girlie!”

“I’m not.” She chuckled, and Joel chuckled back. “But won’t uncle Tommy recognize them?”

“Most of them are from after Tommy left- here, what about this one, it’s simple.”

Joel pulled out a dress that would rest right at Ellie’s knees, a collarbone neckline and ¾ sleeves. Simple, not showy.

“It’s really fucking purple” She said, hesitant.

His smile faltered a bit, the excitement in his voice fleeting out as he went to hang it back up. “You’re right, you’re right, maybe there’s something black in here? Or, depending how far away it is I can see what I can get my hands on for you?”

Ellie realized he was trying to connect, trying to make an effort, trying to do dad things with Ellie the way he never could before. She jumped up, quickly grabbing the dress. “It’ll be fun!” She assured. “I don’t really wear dresses anyway, so I’ll be trying all kinds of new stuff.”

Joel’s face lit up with so much bright excitement, she thought he looked 10 years younger. “You tryna impress someone, Ellie June?”

Heat crept up her neck and onto her face. She was, kinda. Dina had made a comment a few weeks ago how pretty another girl, Jess, looked in a dress and Ellie thought about it non-stop for a week. It wasn’t that she was trying to impress Dina, no! That would be silly! But… did she want Dina to think she was pretty too? She wasn’t sure. She had only just learned the truth of her existence. One identity crisis at a time.

Instead of telling her she can’t have a boyfriend, hounding her on who, giving her a talk, Joel simply smiles. “Good. Love is a beautiful thing.” He wanders over to the boxes of items. “You like to read?”

She nodded. “Yeah, when something catches my interest.”

Sifting through the books, Joel found what he was looking for. The book was hefty, nearly the size of a brick, the cover reading ‘Jurassic Park’. He tossed it to her. “Thought you might like this one. Lots of action. The leading lady is named Ellie, I think that’s where your mom got your name.”

Ellie looked at the book. She imagined her mom reading it, flipping through the pages while pregnant with her, as Joel worked long hours to protect his community and have everything Ellie and her mom needed… “What if Uncle Tommy see’s it?”

The bright look on Joel’s face darkened just a bit. “You’re awfully worried about him. He good to you? He take care of you?” 

“I mean… yeah.” Although her and Tommy weren’t on speaking terms, she would never say he didn’t take care of her. Hell, every single day there was a plate or a bowl for dinner made up for her in the fridge with a note saying to eat her vegetables. That was all the communication she had other than Ellie shouting the newest lie of where she’d be.

“He don’t hurt you, does he?” Joel’s voice was calm and steady, but there was a deadliness behind it.

Ellie burst out laughing at that, cackling for a while before she looked up at Joel’s confused face. “Sorry” She said through laughs. “I know you’re trying to be protective but-” A few more laughs. “Tommy’s never so much as frowned at me. He couldn't hurt me if he tried.” 

“You have no idea what Tommy is capable of.” The warning in his tone was clear. ‘You don’t want to know the things he’s done’ but Ellie just laughed at Joel’s serious act.

“No, no I know,” She giggled. “I’m well aware. He was a raider, and Tommy’s told me he wasn't proud of himself before he came to Jackson” Slowly, Ellie’s laughs settled, but her smile reminded as Jel watched her intently. “But Tommy would never hurt me.” Thinking back on the last 16 years, the years she remembered anyway, thinking about Tommy… the gentle father who showered her in nothing but kindness, understanding, care… Maybe she had judged him too harshly…

Joel’s body language changed, he loosened up again. “Few weeks before I kicked Tommy out, I found bruises on your mom.” He began walking around the room, pacing, avoiding Ellie’s eyes again. 

“...What?” The life was sucked out of the room.

“She had some excuse or another, I questioned her if it was Lorenzo, Jack, any of the men… I didn’t even asking if it was Tommy. Never thought he could either.” Joel continued talking as Ellie listened intently, mouth slightly open agap. “When he left, she finally told me. Broke down sob’n about it, broke my damn heart, seeing her like that. Told me Tommy had come onto her.”

Ellie stood in shock at the revelation. All this time, Tommy spoke about her mom with such wonder, such reverence, tere had been times she wondered if he had feelings for her… but Renzo and Zach spoke similarly. She was an innocent, good person who died a tragic death, it was no wonder they held her in high esteem… but love? Or is it lust… What exactly was it he had done?

“Did he… did he tried to…” She couldn’t get the words out. She couldn’t fathom Tommy raping someone… but she was beginning to wonder if the Tommy she knew wasn’t really Tommy at all.

“No” Joel assured before clarifying. “Not that… but… he wanted her to choose him over me.” A slight blush, a shuffle of feet, the smallest sad smile… “This was early on, we were still figure’n things out, you know? I think she might’ve had a crush on him. I wouldn’t blame her if she did. I was gone long hours, leaving her alone with Tommy to protect her, it’s only natural. But she wouldn’t leave me. She said he took her arm, tried to pull her, get her to run away together ‘n shit. She wouldn’t go. She was loyal like that…” There it was again, that wash of sadness, that unbearable pain that Ellie had no idea how he stomached. “He gripped her hard enough she bruised for days…” When his eyes met hers again, there was a flash of anger, something she had yet to see from him. “I’m not say’n he’d hurt you either, I’m just say’n if he does, or he scares you, or you just want to leave for any reason… you have a home here. I’ll take care of you, Ellie June.”

Ellie’s eyes watered, but more importantly, she was focused on her stomach not spilling over in disgust. This was the nail in the coffin. Not only was her entire life a lie, but the man she had loved most in this world was no longer a safe person, no longer a good person, no longer her dad.

The dance was a week later, Ellie stepping out of her room in a dress to see Tommy turn around, mouth agape at the sight of his niece in a dress for the first time in… what? A decade? But Ellie ignored him.

“You look nice” Tommy tried to tell her as she stormed through the hall in the purple dress (a light jean jacket on to offset the purple) “Be safe. I’ll be there in a bit if you want to-” but she was gone before he could finish. Ellie and Tommy always danced together, starting with little Ellie in his arms, then standing on his feet, then slowly learning moves as Tommy swung her around. A year back, Ellie asked why he always danced with her, why he taught her all these fancy moves, and he said it was so Ellie wasn't impressed by “some no good Johnny sidestepping to a slow song. If he loves you, he'll learn how to do the pretzel.”

Ellie had no intention of dancing with Tommy tonight. He joined the town hall as promised a little bit after her carrying the moonshine he was famous for. He used to allow her and Dina some sips here and there if they swore to be responsible… but Ellie was not going to ask. Maybe she could get Jesse to get a cup for them, Tommy wouldn’t know how old Jesse was, right? Ellie couldn’t stand looking at Tommy any more… Over the last week, she had mauled over what Joel had revealed: Tommy taking her, Tommy, Zach and Lorenzo lying, Tommy hurting her mom, trying to take her away from Joel… she was disgusted. The man she knew didn’t exist.

The offer to move in with Joel was on the table, and Ellie was considering it… Only thing is, even if she was furious at Tommy, she was still going to miss her other uncles and her aunts. Jackson was all she knew. Of course, she’d need to move in with Joel eventually if she was going to take over, and sooner is better than later, but besides the obvious of leaving her hometown, there was a huge, glaring reason why Ellie was hesitant to leave, and she was dancing in Ellie’s arms right now.

Dina.

Ellie spoke softly to her friend as they slowly danced… it was that basic side to side that Tommy warned her about, but Dina wasn’t a man. Dina was Dina, just a friend… “Every guy in this room is staring at you right now.”

“Maybe they're staring at you.”

She nodded, but didn’t believe her. Ellie never thought of herself as much to look at. It wasn’t that she was self deprecating, to her, it was just a fact.  But That’s okay, she didn’t need to be pretty… well, except to Dina. “They're not.”

“Maybe they're jealous of you.”

“I'm... just a girl. Not a threat.”

“Oh Ellie... I think they should be terrified of you.”

To Ellie’s surprise, Dina went in for a kiss… and to Ellie’s bigger surprise, she reciprocated it. It felt good, so, so good to finally let out that tension, that desire for her friend she’s had for so long… until she felt a strong grip on her shoulder, and she let go of Dina.

“Hey, this is a family event.”

Turning to see Seth, Ellie wanted to back away, to apoligize and leave it alone… but if she was going to lead a group of raiders in protecting a community, she needed to be strong, to be brave, she needed to be the kind of woman Joel thought she was. Although only 5’1, Ellie stood up as tall as she could get and faced off with the old man in front of her. “We weren’t doing anything, Seth.”

Seth glared down at her. “Yeah, you were. We don’t need another goddamn dyke in this town.”

Before Ellie could respond, Seth was ripped off of her, Ellie wobbling forwards as Seth’s grip on her shoulder was yanked away.

“Get your goddamn hands off my daughter!” Tommy shouts, shoving him back and away from Ellie. Zach jumps in, something about ‘Did you fucking hurt her?’ and predictably, Lorenzo isn’t far. Seth has some choice words to say to Renzo and Zach and Ellie knows a few of them are slurs, but in the chaos of the four men and the shock entering her system, she can’t make out much. Maria appears, telling Tommy to settle it, and Tommy calls her uncles away, telling Seth that if he finds him near his ‘child’ ever again, he’s a dead a man, earning a glare from Maria as she ushered Seth away.

Tommy turned to her, attempting to put his hands on her face but Ellie stumbled back in fear. She didn’t trust Tommy anymore.

“Fuck off!” She shouted at the man who had only ever been loving to her, watching his heart shatter in his dark eyes. Lorenzo and Zach’s voices are heard interchangeably trying to calm her down, but Ellie had tunned them out.

“Ellie, I’m sorry” Tommy began. “He had no right-”

“And you do?” She shouted back.

“Elles, what-”

“YOUR LYING TO ME!” It was all but a scream now, echoing off the walls of the dance hall that had now silenced at the scene unfolding before them. “You’re all fucking lying to me!” She referenced her married uncles watching them. “Fuck you!” Running away from them, running past Dina, Ellie took off into Jackson as Lorenzo’s voice called for her, his footsteps keeping after hers for a short while before he stopped. Uncle Renzo had been shot in his torso before she was born, and the old wound showed up in his limited ability to do cardio.

By the time Ellie had made it home, both hers and her uncles houses looked like the had gone to step. Ellie almost made it up the stairs to the porch when she heard Zach’s voice over from his. “Is that what you’ve been hiding?”

Ellie wiped her head around to see him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Zach didn’t move to get up, simple sat in his chair, watching her. He didn’t look made, worried, sad… he just looked like Zach.

“Dina. You guys seeing each other?”

A blush crept up Ellie’s face. “I- I don’t- that was nothing we just-”

“30 years ago, Ren and I wouldn’t have been able to get married, you know that?”

Ellie nodded. She did know that before, men weren’t allowed to marry men, and women weren’t allowed to marry women. 

Zach continued, soft and calm as he always was. “You have a blessing here. I ain’t saying you need to fall in love and marry her, but… she treat you right?”

The teared welled up again. Yes, yes Dina absolutely did. “Y-yeah.”

He nodded again. “That’s all I need to know about that, Ellie Bellie. I need you to understand something. What we are- or rather, what me, Ren, June and Maura are… you don’t need to label anything right now. What we are, for thousands of years was something that meant we could be legally killed for and was something people continued to beat and kill us for up until the outbreak. It was only a few years before when a boy in this very state was killed for being gay; just a teenager, about your age. Hell, it happens still, I know, but I think there are so much bigger issues at hand, most people just… begrudgingly accept it. Some people, like Seth, say a few things but he wouldn’t beat you, wouldn’t torture you, wouldn’t see the things I’ve seen…” Zach closed his eyes and shook his head before opening them. He didn’t say a thing about the tears that had finally fallen from Ellie’s face. “I ain’t tryna scare ya, or guilt trip ya. I’m just saying… it’s a beautiful thing to be living somewhere that we don’t gotta hide anymore. And if you are gay, I just… I need you to know, you don’t have to be afraid or ashamed. I love you, very much, so do Lorenzo, June and Maura. And even though you aren’t talking, Tommy would die for your right to love who you love.”

Ellie couldn’t talk. She could betray how much she had been crying in the light of the moon, how much Zach’s words had touched her, how much she was scared of her future. But Zach knew.

He nodded one final time. “Slam the door when you get in so Tommy knows you’re safe.”

It wasn’t long after the dance that things escalated for Ellie. Joel had been walking with her, showing her the rounds as he usually did when he asked if she’d like to take things a step further, if she wanted to see what he really did, the hard parts.

Of course she did. “What do you mean?”

Joel nudged her off their regular path that Ellie was getting to know, and explained. “Got a man, justice that needs to be served. You okay with seeing that?”

Ellie didn’t need to know what kind of justice it was. She trusted Joel, and if he thought the man needed to die, then he needed to die. Soon, she was standing in front of a man with a black bad over his head who was tied up to a tree. By the sounds of his muffled whimpers and cried, he must have been gagged by something. He was afraid, desperately trying to get out of the ties that bound him to the rough trunk that left bleeding scratches on his arms and hands.

Suddenly face to face with the concept, Ellie’s resolve wavered around her. “Joel, I don’t know…” The man paused for a second, listening to her it seemed.

Joel turned to her, his face open but firm. “This is part of the job. You can’t just have others doing the dirty work, we gotta be able to do as we tell others, Ellie June.” When Jole emphasized her name, the man began screaming in hysterics, writhing and thrashing against the tree which only served to disturb Ellie more.

The leaves and sticks beneath her crackled and she shifted her weight to the other foot. “I dunno… do I have to watch?”

His face was grave and serious. “Ellie June, if you don’t think you can do this, you can tell me now. You’ll always be my daughter and I’ll love you and take care of you. You don’t have to take over-”

“No!” Ellie jumped in, trying to ignore the frantic pleas from the man in front of her. “Just… he deserves it, right?”

“Absolutely. I don’t hurt people who don’t deserve it.” Joel talked over the wailing that was growing increasingly hard to ignore. “We don’t tolerate rapists here.”

Ellie gave her consent, and Joel, inturn, gave her earplugs. “Don’t wanna end up deaf like your old man.”

Stepping up to the man, Joel placed the gun up to his bag-covered forehead and fired. To Ellie’s shame, she mostly felt relief that the man stopped screaming, even though it was because the life left his body, head hanging down low as his body slumped forward. Shock was probably the best way to describe her feelings, she was unable to process witnessing her first death… but he deserved it, right? This was good. The man was a rapist. Rapists deserve death, and Joel didn’t tolerate rapists in his communities. This was a good thing. This was a good thing. Joel was a good guy. Joel protected women. Tommy had hurt her mom. Joel protected her mom. This was a good thing. 

“What are you doing?” Ellie asked, shaking like a leaf- when did she start shaking? Was she scared? There was no reason to be scared, not of Joel. This was a good thing.

Joel was bent over the man, lifting up his sleeve and doing something Ellie couldn’t see.

“Always take credit for what you do, Ellie June. Never hide in the shadows.”

This was a good thing.

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

Ellie's name comes from Jurassic Park bc i fucking said so. I love Jurassic Park, so sue me.

Anway! Lots happening here

Fun fact I was already planning on having Tommy defend Ellie against someone being homophobic and I'm talking to Maura about it, and she, who loves the games and played the second one, goes "you'll never beleive this" turns out theres a scene in the game XD so hey!

All the stuff in little ones rooms made me emo esp the playing cards ;-;

and the irony of Joel saying he doesnt tollerate rapists SIDE EYE

@maura-honey @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @the-fox-den @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @koshkaj-blog @primosworld @miraclesabound @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

[addisonrottmnt]

Sonic prime

Shadow the hedgehog x fem hedgehog reader

First meet

Y/N was walking in green hills in then she something was falling down from the sky

Y/N: what the what is that

Sonic: Y/N look out !

Y/N: woo

Sonic: What was that

Y/N walks towards where crashed

And she see a black hedgehog

Y/N: black hedgehog

Sonic: hm well we should probably not wack it up also I should get back to my friends and you should come back to so meet you there

Sonic runs back to his friends you look at the black hedgehog and you thought maybe I should wack him up you walk towards him and he starts to wake up you help him up

Shadow: uh were am I

Y/N: um you’re at green hills

Shadow: Maria

Y/N : uh my name is Y/N

Shadow: Hu your not Maria

Y/N: who’s Maria

Shadow: if you even care about

Y/N : I do care about it

you saw the black hedgehog had tears in his Eyes

Y/N: are you okay

Shadow: why do you care about me

Y/N: because it hurts me to see you sad also looks like you need hug

Shadow: why are being so nice to me

Y/N: because I care about you even if I don’t know you or your name

Shadow: sigh my name shadow shadow the hedgehog and yes and you’re right I do need hug

You and shadow hug each other

Y/N: everything is going be okay

Shadow: thanks be nice to me

Y/N: no problem I should probably get back to my friends and sonic also the sun is almost setting so I guess I will seeing you around by Shadow nice seeing you

When you are back to your friends shadow was watching you run and he smiled because he has someone who cares about him five years later

Sonic: come on shadow can just leave me alone

Shadow: I don’t think so

Sonic: why are you always so angry all time

Shadow: it’s none of your business

They both did a spin dash and kept running around green hills and fighting each other until shadow ran to you and tails

Shadow: Y/N

Shadow stops and tails was protecting you

Tails : leave Y/N alone

Sonic: don’t you dare touch her shadow

Y/N : guys it’s okay I know him

Sonic and Tails: you know him

Y/N: yeah sonic do you remember on happen on the day when he crash here

Sonic: yeah wait you wack him up

Shadow: actually I wicked up on my own when I wack up I didn’t know I was at but I actually glad she was there because she new I needed comfort and she came me hug it made me so much better that’s when we became friends we been friends for five years

Sonic and Tails: what!

Sonic: wait you been friends with him ever since we first found him and you never told us

Y/N : yeah because didn’t know what your reaction will be if you know

Shadow: nice to see you again Y/N

Y/N: it’s nice to see you to

You and shadow hugged each other Sonic and Tails eyes were wide

Sonic: why are you guys friends he’s been fighting me for two years

Shadow: It’s not my fault

Sonic: yes is

Shadow: no it’s not

Tails: are guys ever going to get along

Sonic and shadow: No

Loud explosion came from behind you and one of Egg-mans robots got you in a cage shadow eyes widened and his Eyes had tears in his eyes he had know you for five years and he see you getting kidnapped right in front of him

Shadow: Y/N LET Her Go Egg-man

Egg-man: I don’t think so because you’re friend has something very important

Shadow: what is so important about her

Egg-man: because she has a connection to the prism

You were about to have a panic attack when Shadow sines you having panic attacks shadow all ways been there for you

Shadow: oh No she’s having panic attack

Sonic: that’s not good let her Egg-head

Tails: yeah let her go

You tried to calm down because you never got kidnapped before but you realize there’s was like a rainbow glow from you

Y/N: what is this why am I glowing

Egg-man : cannot believe

Y/N: what do you want Egg-man

Egg-man : HaHaHa

Shadow: Egg-man let her go NOW!

Y/N: Egg-man let me out of this cage now

Egg-man : haha l don’t think so

Then Egg-man flew away and with you to you reach your hand out of the cage and called out to shadow you see shadow had tears running down his face

Sonic: shadow are you

Shadow: Y/N

Shadow ran to were Egg-Man was heading

Tails: man shadow must really care about her

Sonic: yeah didn’t know she was that important to shadow

Shadow: hang on Y/N on my way

Be counted

[gossipsnake]

TIMING: Shortly after their return from Ireland LOCATION: Downtown, Wicked's Rest PARTIES: Anita (@gossipsnake) and Wynne (@ohwynne) SUMMARY: Anita and Wynne run into one another in town after playing their respective roles in Fae Court, surprised to learn that neither of them knew what they were doing. CONTENT WARNINGS: n/a

When Anita had boarded the flight to Ireland she had little idea, little expectation, about what the trip would entail. Siobhan’s invitation was vague but slightly suggestive. Some time away in a foreign country with family, coworkers, and former lovers seemed like it would just be a simple week or so of drinking mixed with exploration of the Irish countryside. Things had gone sideways immediately, not a single plan had come to fruition. Instead, Anita had taken part in a very strange cultural exchange and she was still working to make sense of all that she had observed, all that she had taken part in. 

Given the family she had come from, Anita was never one to judge where others came from or the unique customs of their people. After all, if she invited a group of strangers into a lamia den she could only imagine the impressions they might walk away with. But it wasn’t just strangers that had walked away - Siobhan returned back to Wicked’s Rest, too. She was wrapped up in thought about the trip when she spotted a familiar face out of the corner of her eye. For a second, since the face seemed to be out of place, Anita thought her rumination about the trip was causing her to see things. But after a quick double take, she confirmed that her eyes were not playing tricks on her. 

“You’re that judge,” she said rather bluntly as she turned on her heels, abruptly changing her direction from heading towards the common to heading down the side street where she spotted the familiar face. “What are you doing here?” As Anita approached the other person there was a strange feeling that grabbed hold of her stomach, squeezing it just enough to make her feel discomfort. What was that? Was it concern? And if so, concern for who? 

_ 

When they walked it felt like they floated sometimes. Like their body disconnected from their mind and it was something else making their legs move. Wynne had felt like this before — at the trial, for example, but also back at home. At the barn. When Ariadne had gone missing. There was a common link for this symptom, but there was no part of them that took any action. They just floated. It was nicer, to not feel their feet hitting the pavement as hard. To not feel as much.

They were on their way to campus to see Ariadne. To maybe try and figure something out there, too — to see if there were booklets lying around that they could take home to quietly wonder about their options. Even if they didn’t feel at home in their body at this moment, they wanted to move on. It was supposed to be a day rooted in Wicked’s Rest. The local greenery. Their girlfriend. Their looking ahead to a future they’d made for themself. But in stead there was a voice cutting through their normalcy. A voice they’d heard once before, belonging to a face that they’d seen before.

It was the lawyer. It was Siobhan’s lawyer. It was tibia or fibula, it was Regan’s wings to be removed (and later, truly removed). It was Siobhan acquitted of all charges. They were blinking. They were letting their mouth sink open. “I am —” They gulped for air, forgetting to breathe. “Not a judge. Just … once.” And not because they had wanted to be. Wynne didn’t want to make decisions like that. They didn’t want to be looked at like that. “I live here.” It was as if their legs were made out of something else than bones (among which tibia and fibula) and flesh, rather something more akin to frogspawn. They tried to shift their weight. “I live here. Not in this … just, you know. In this town.” 

_ 

Anita wasn’t quite sure what she expected would happen when she confronted this judge. This was definitely not it, though. They seemed shocked, maybe even scared? Of all the people in this world who may have valid reason to look at Anita and feel scared, this person didn’t seem to obviously fall into that category. As they spoke it was rather obvious that they were not Irish, or at least that they did not speak with an Irish accent. That didn’t make Anita trust them though. That wasn’t something she gave out freely even before all of this banshee bullshit. 

“I live here too.” Anita said with some hesitance, “Obviously also not right here, but, in town.” Had they moved here after the trial? Regan had suggested that people from over there had come to town. Maybe they would be coming again after everything that went down. She felt fairly confident that if this person was going to do her any harm they would have done it immediately, so Anita decided to just try and figure things out before she jumped to conclusions. After all, she listened to facts before issuing judgments. “How long have you lived in town?” 

_ 

They felt very small, even if the other was shorter than them. Wynne just wasn’t sure how to exist and breathe around the fact that someone from Ireland was here. Of course, there were others here too, like Regan, Elias and Nora, but they had made work of getting them home. They were all tied together with red thread and they all existed here now, because this was where they should be. But this was Siobhan’s lawyer, presumably another banshee who bore witness to their judgment. To them saying tibia. 

“Oh. Oh. Okay.” It made little sense. Was she here to come get Regan? Regan had to stay in Saol Eile for a hundred years, after all, and she wasn’t. “Um, for about … more than a year, now! I moved from Worm Row to another neighborhood since, though, because of all the goo, but yes it’s been more than a year.” They nodded. It felt important to note that they had been here for some time, because they were wondering the same about the other. “And you? Just recently or also longer? I – are you –” They shook their head. “Local?” She sure didn’t sound Irish.

_ 

“You aren’t one of them?” The question was, perhaps, more antagonistic than Anita intended it to be. On one hand it might not have been so surprising that someone else, another random outsider, was involved in the trial. But Anita was just a fake lawyer, for a friend, she had not been tasked with issuing judgment. (Not formally, anyway. She always issued some informal judgments). “Yes, the goo was… quite as problem. Still is, I suppose. An ongoing recovery.” 

The next question was rather unexpected. Nobody had ever thought she was a local, to this country let alone to this city. “Longer, but I’m not a local. I’ve lived here for just over four years. I’m out near The Pines.” Anita recalled that Regan mentioned a handful of people who had traveled with her to Ireland, but it seemed antithetical to have a friend of Regan’s to be the judge in that trial. Little else made sense in context, however. Which, also based on her conversation with Regan, it seemed like maybe Anita was searching for logic in a space where logic was not welcome. “Why were you there? Why were you…?” Anita paused herself, took a quick deep breath, trying to recollect her thoughts which felt scrambled. Everything felt disconnected after getting back home. “I’ve just been trying to understand. I’m a bit tired of being told that what happened is beyond understanding.” 

_ 

They shook their head without doubt. “No,” Wynne said, before repeating the word twice more. “No, I’m not, no.” They were human, fully and without an asterisk to make clear that there was something extra about their humanness. Just human, not in the way Van or Emilio or Teddy were — and certainly not appearing as a human. Wynne found that complicated enough. They looked at the woman across from them and wondered what she could be then, if she’d been here for four years. If that was true – and maybe it wasn’t, as people were proven liars – then why had she been in Ireland?

It seemed the other was wondering the same. They breathed in, holding their breath for a moment as they pondered their words, having an internal battle between the truth or an attempt at dishonesty. “I — well, at the — I was a judge because they made me,” they said, which was something they still didn’t understand. “I don’t know why. But — I was in Ireland because of …” Wynne lifted their shoulders. “I went for my friend. Why were you there? Why — do you know Siobhan?” Siobhan, who had separated Regan from her wings. Who was now proven dangerous. Was she back, too? They shifted their weight, feeling something press down on their chest.

_ 

Anita studied the body language of the other person intently, wondering if its movements might provide more answers than their words did. They seemed more uncomfortable than she did with the circumstance, which Anita found to be curious. But without anything to compare their demeanor to, it didn't really give her much more to go on - she had no knowledge as to whether they were a naturally awkward person or if the awkwardness was born out of, or perhaps heightened by,  this particular interaction. 

“They made you,” she repeated, as if saying the words herself would help her understand. Their shoulders raised up, curious. Anita knew that this person was not part of Siobhan’s Ireland crew, and if she had been from here and gone over for a friend, well, that really only left one other option. But she did not say Regan’s name, she only mentioned Siobhan. The shoulder’s were not some newfound confidence but perhaps posturing out of concern. “I do know Siobhan. We both teach at UMWR.” Antia wasn’t actually sure if Siobahn would be back next semester, but that didn’t seem worthy of noting at the moment. “But I also know others who were in Ireland.” 

Maybe it was because Anita and this other person had both played an actual, literal, role in the trial that she felt compelled to say more. “I feel more than a bit foolish to admit it aloud, but I didn’t quite grasp the weight of everything when I agreed to take part in the show. And I certainly did not realize Regan was going to be in Ireland, let alone on trial herself.” 

_ 

They did not want to be reminded of what had happened in Ireland. There was too much there, too many metaphorical sore spots on their body. There was the corpse that had appeared in the clinic, Elias’ pale skin, the ruling that they had somehow had a hand it even if they hadn’t wanted to. Wynne wondered if the other thought them a cruel judge, because in a way they had been — even if they hadn’t meant to be one. There was no logic to tibia.

“I don’t know … why. Maybe because they were mad I was there. And because …” They shrugged. “They’re cruel. But – I am not like them.” They took in the other woman and figured it made sense that she was a professor, as she did seem very professional. Not very wise, right now, but that was okay. Wynne was also confused when it came to all of this. “She removed out her wings,” they stated dumbly. “I mean, I know her from work … from making coffee for her.” 

They were not sure what they were even saying. Wynne wanted to press their face into a pillow and scream. “I went for Regan. And another friend, too. I … never thought — I never expected that they would do that. To their own. I tried to – we should have left earlier!” 

_ 

It was, ultimately, rather disappointing to learn that this other participant knew just as little as Anita did about these banshees, about their customs, about their punishments. It didn’t seem as though there would be much useful information to come from this conversation, so she wondered if it could at least become entertaining. “Mad because you are human?” She had no way of knowing if they were human, but Anita recalled mentions of Regan bringing humans into their community and the other banshees seemed greatly upset by that. 

“I went because I was told it was going to be an Irish vacation. I didn’t learn about trials or leprechauns until I was already there.” Anita hoped the leprechaun comment wasn’t addressed further, as she wasn’t entirely sure why she had mentioned it. They hadn’t been part of the trial, though they were apparently intended to be. “It is interesting, isn’t it? How they claimed themselves to be superior to humans, yet, at the end of the day they did just what the humans do to punish their own. Different physical action but the same intention. I certainly would have thought them to be more civilized.” 

_ 

“I … I guess.” Wynne wasn’t sure if it was because they were human, that the banshees were mad. They were also mad at Nora, and she wasn’t human. “I think they were mad because I’m not a banshee. And because I knew how to get there. I guess they are secretive.” For good reason, it seemed. The things they did at Saol Eile were not acceptable in the world outside of it, just as the things done at the Protherian estate hadn’t been acceptable. “I don’t know. They aren’t rational.” That statement they could make with complete confidence. Using bones to judge someone was irrational.

They frowned a little, not recalling any leprechauns … but that was because Siobhan had failed to bring one. “So she brought you there under false pretenses?” That was really messed up of the banshee. Not as messed up as taking off someone’s wings, though. “Are you a lawyer?” Wynne wasn’t a judge, so who knew? “I don’t think anyone is better than anyone. But they certainly are just cruel and senseless. They just make no sense. They are so into murder and hurting. I don’t think most humans are like that, to be fair. But they have other ways to be cruel. It’s all so stupid. Everyone should just be kinder and start making sense.”

_ 

“No, they are not rational. They isolate themselves from the world, seemingly both because they fear persecution and because they wish to be left to their own devices, unimpeded by having to deal with others.  I did not personally spend much time within their secretive walls. The time I did spend there showed me that they are no better than humans - putting one another on trial, the banishing, the mutilation.” Anita tried not to draw the parallels too closely. She tried not to think about her own effective banishment from her family. She tried to ignore the pieces of information that disproved her hypothesis, shoving them into different boxes even if they didn’t fit quite right. 

“Yes, as a matter of fact she did.” The unfulfilled promise of breasts seemed unnecessary to discuss with Wynne, but that didn’t change how false the pretenses were. “No, I am most certainly not a lawyer. I know I dressed the part and did an exceptional job, but I’m just a scientist. Like I mentioned, I know Siobhan because we both teach at the university here in town. Entomology and ecology. I guess you could say I teach certain laws of the natural world, but not stuffy legal laws.” 

Anita thought that many different people were better than other people. She had heard people make the same statement at Wynne had, numerous times throughout her life, but it always came across as them saying what they felt they should say opposed to what they intended. “There are more humans in this world than banshees. If you put all the humans and all the banshees in one room, regardless of who seems to be more “into” murder and hurting, which species do you think would come out on top?” Surely, for a human, it must be easy to think that banshees or other species are abnormal for their focus on violence and death. It must be easy to think that way when you have strength in numbers. “But I agree with you, everyone should start making more sense. Fae seem to really thrive on things not making much sense. Sometimes I question if, through all the chaos, they even know what’s going on.” 

–

The notion that isolation from the rest of the world was a bad thing was met with an immediate reflex to disagree from Wynne, but they caught themself before verbalizing it. They agreed with the other, after all: such isolation was bad. It was what allowed their former commune to do what they did. The knee jerk reaction was still within them, though, to defend what they had once known. “They might be worse than humans, actually. I’m pretty sure they are.” Even though humans were bad, too, what they had seen at the aos sí was forever instilled in their brain. Not even at home had they been so cruel to rulebreakers. 

Wynne blinked at the woman as she explained that she was a professor, mostly because they had no idea what entomology was. It was something with nature, though, which they liked. “You were a good lawyer, yes,” they said, even if they weren’t sure if she had been — Anita had been the first and only lawyer they had ever met, and she hadn’t even been one as it turned out, “That sounds very nice. Teaching about natural laws. I understand those better than those in the rea— in the world, or in that place. What is entomology?” 

The question Anita posed was sure to give Wynne a headache and so it would, as they would think for it for much longer than this mere conversation. “There would not be a room big enough for that,” they answered after a while, “And I don’t even know how many banshees there are on the planet. But maybe they’d all scream and everyone would be dead. That would not be great. And then they would have no one to sacrifice any more, so that would be bad for them.” They weren’t sure what they were saying. It was a nonsensical hypothetical that they couldn’t solve with a clear answer and yet they wanted to, just as they wanted to know what species the other thought would come out on top. “The ones I’ve met seem confused, sometimes. But the ones in there mostly certain.” They shrugged. “It is … over, at least. For us.”

_ 

Were they worse than humans? Anita wasn’t sure that was something she could agree with - mostly because she wasn’t sure that she and Wynne were using the same definition of worse. But they didn’t need to see eye to eye on that to agree that the fae were bad, that much was apparent. “Entomology is the scientific study of insects.” The seeming slip of the tongue, as if they were about to distinguish the real world from something else entirely, was quite curious. For two people who were talking of banshees and fae with such openness, Anita wondered what would have caused such hesitance. 

There was something almost beautiful about how they tried to rationalize a response to an impossible question. Anita couldn’t help but see a reflection of a past self in how they worked through their answer in real time - evaluating the competing nature of the two species that had been hypothetically pit against one another. Had she become too cynical to see the nuisance anymore? No, no; she shook the thought away. “Those who seem certain are often not asking enough questions. Or aren’t capable of comprehending a reality where what they think might be wrong.” 

The conversation hadn’t been what Anita expected. She didn’t expect that this judge was nothing but a child, looking at the world through a curiously warped lens. “I’ve gotta run, but” digging around in her purse for a moment, she pulled out a bent business card that had clearly been tumbling around in there for a while and extended it towards Wynne, “If you ever want to talk more about the natural laws.” 

[influencermagazineuk]

Reflection on his brief exit from Black Sabbath Being a few weeks away from his relief period, Geezer Butler mentioned that being fired from the band Black Sabbath in 1977 turned out to be an unexpected relief, just for a couple of weeks. At the time, the band was in chaos, struggling with substance abuse and growing distrust of their management. Frontman Ozzy Osbourne had just left the band, only to return shortly thereafter. In a recent conversation with LifeMinute, Butler revisited this chaotic period and shared what unfolded when his dismissal came. "Everybody was totally out of their brains all the time," Butler explained. "We'd sold millions and millions of albums and sold out thousands of gigs around the world. We still hardly had any money to show for it, and we'd sort of realized that we were being ripped off by the management." Tilly antoine, CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0, via Wikimedia Commons According to Butler, the atmosphere was tense, and finger-pointing became inevitable. “I think people just wanted a scapegoat for the whole thing – it just happened to be me at the time. Bill Ward came to the house and said, ‘Oh, by the way, you’re fired.’ ‘Oh, thanks very much. Why?’ ‘You don’t seem into it anymore.’” A Surprisingly Peaceful Interlude Now he looks back, Butler can only laugh about his short-term sacking. "I was actually relieved because we were under so much pressure at the time. probably the best two weeks that I'd had for years! I could just relax and not think about the business, or getting albums together, or anything like that." However, this interlude was short-lived. Two weeks later, Ward rang Butler again. "Bill calls me up and says, 'Where are you?' I said, 'What do you mean?' He said, 'We're here, rehearsing!'" I said, 'I thought I was fired… You told me I was fired from the band!' He said, 'Oh, yeah – forgot about that.' So I went down to rehearsal, nobody said anything about it, just carried on as normal." Life in the Fast Lane This anecdote really paints a picture of the chaotic lifestyle that Black Sabbath was living at the time, involving whirlwinds of grueling schedules, creative tensions, and constant pressure to maintain success. Despite groundbreaking achievements, the band found it hard to reconcile their fame with personal and financial stability. Their frenetic lifestyle is also evident in their live performances, as recorded in collections such as Past Lives. This two-disc set contains material from some of the most celebrated performances, including Brussels in 1970 and Asbury Park in 1975. Although the album captures the raw energy of their live shows, the poor quality of the sound and rambling delivery reflect the intensity—and the imperfection—of life in Black Sabbath. Such songs as "Megalomania," "Symptom of the Universe," and the behemoth 19-minute "Wicked World" jam capture the band's ferocious spirit, even as they teetered on the edge of collapse. But for fans, Past Lives is a rare glimpse into the unfiltered power of their Ozzy-fronted lineup. A part of the story of how briefly Geezer Butler was fired shows a great portion of the tumultuous life that one of rock's most influential bands led, with hard living, even harder working, and somehow surviving despite it all. From his side, Butler shows up here as funny, resourceful, and in tune with how he lived, which included coping with fame, unpredictable band dynamics, and pressure from everywhere. For fans of Black Sabbath, these moments—both on and off stage—cement the band’s legendary status. They weren’t just musicians; they were a force of nature navigating the storm of their own making. Read the full article