#my humblest apologies everyone

[proxythe]

made ya smile !! 😸

[viennacherries]

Prompt suggestion <3 Rolan/Tav NSFW. Tav really likes it when Rolan speaks to her in infernal. She doesn’t understand it, but it doesn’t change the fact that it turns her on. He starts to notice her subtle reactions to when he curses or something in infernal. Which leads to bedroom shenanigans lol. My username is the same on A03 ^^

this has taken me a minute, mostly because i had to spend some time literally making up the infernal language for the purpose of this fic LMAO. if you're interested in my process it's in the end notes on ao3.

i changed the prompt a little though; rolan doesnt notice because he's very silly and keeps failing the perception check. lia notices immediently.

NSFW read on ao3 here

~~~

The first time Tav hears Rolan speak infernal, she doesn't even register it as a word. It slips past his tongue and it's all consonants and noises that she's not sure she could emulate properly with her non-tiefling tongue.

"Zurgan." He mutters it under his breath as he drops a pile of books.

Her quill stops midair where she's busy writing up an inventory of magical items they've found. With everyone else busy or gone from the city, she offered to help Rolan with organising the tower. It's been a nightmare, frankly. The previous tower master (she wont do him the privilege of speaking his name, the bastard) had apparently spent the last who-knows-how-many years stuffing things into random shelves and boxes.

She frowns as she tries to repeat the word, "Zu- Zurgan? What's that mean?"

Rolan jumps, clearly having forgotten she's in the room, "not zurgan, zurgan. It means- well, I don't know if it translates literally to common. It's... an expletive, I suppose ."

She laughs, "so it means 'fuck'?"

He huffs, and rolls his eyes, "I suppose that's a close enough approximation, yes."

"I don't think I've ever heard you swear before."

"Well," his brow is furrowed as he thinks, "I suppose I try not to, really. It's not becoming."

Tav snorts at that, "Gods, how old are you, 150? Besides, how is swearing in tiefling any different?"

"The language is called infernal, you uncultured swine. I'm a tiefling, I speak infernal."

"You speak something alright. Usually a crock of shi-"

"What did I say about it not being becoming, hm?"

She rolls her eyes at him, "so sorry, Master Rolan, please accept my humblest of apologies for disgracing your presence in such a regard."

He rolls his eyes at her, but she hears him snort and sees the quirk of his lip. "I suppose as far as apologies go, that one will suffice."

~~~

Several weeks later, Cal shouts through the door to the study where they're cataloguing evocation books, "Rolan! Lia and I are heading to the market, do you want us to pick up more of the wine you like?"

He laughs, which is rare enough in itself, and leans out the door to reply.

"Fazit drakon'ziz orum?!"

She hears Cal's responding cackle from down the hallway. "alright, alright, little drakon'ziz. I'll get 2 bottles, 'cos I love you."

When Rolan comes back in, chuckling to himself, Tav doesn't say anything. She wants to ask what it means, but she's... distracted.

Something about the way the words sound when he says them is... enticing. She's not sure if she could repeat them without butchering them, but even if she could she's sure they wouldn't sound as delicious as when they come from him. It's something about the rich tone to his voice, which she's always liked, coupled with the harsher edge it takes on when he speaks the foreign language.

Gods, she's been spending far too much time with him,

She clears her throat, "drakon'ziz?"

Rolan turns to her, still smiling, " drakon'ziz , but close. It means dragon."

His lopsided smile, aimed at her, coupled with the gruffness of the unknown word, is a little bit intoxicating.

"What about the rest of what you said? Fa- Fazit something?"

"'Fazit drakon'ziz orum?' It means 'does a dragon want gold?' It's a tiefling saying, basically means 'yes, obviously.' It just sounds better in infernal."

Tav agrees. It sounds rather lovely in infernal, in fact.

When Tav doesn't reply, he raises an eyebrow, "I could try and teach you some? Infernal, that is. If you'd be interested. Tell me something you want to be able to say, I'll try and teach you how to say it."

She thinks for a moment.

"What if I want to call someone a shit-head?"

He barks out a laugh as he rolls his eyes, "of course you'd just want to know how to insult people. I think the closest translation would be uzterku'zereb.  That means 'shit-for-brains'."

Despite the small jolt her stomach gives as he utters the phrase, she starts cackling. "That's even better!"

~~~

It's been about a month and a half since they started cataloguing everything in the tower, and it's basically become a nightly occurrence that Tav stays for dinner with them. Rolan has finally sat down at the dining table, after bringing all the dishes and cutlery through, and right as he hits the chair there's a sheepish voice from beside him.

"... Rolan~" It's Lia, in a singsong voice, and he huffs.

"What do you want?" It's a question, but it sounds more like an admonishment.

"How could you?! Assuming I want something from you. My beloved big brother. I look up to you so much. Also I left my drink in the sitting room."

You and Callum both laugh, and he makes a very dramatic show of pushing his chair back out with a huge sigh.

"You're such a..." He flails for a moment, as if the word in common has escaped him, "an uztanatez. Next time, you're getting it yourself."

She laughs, "My dear brother, I would fall on my sword for you."

"Mhm." He grumbles, " gladiz zurzum kuluz ..."

Cal nearly falls out of his chair laughing as Rolan trudges from the room, and Lia has a grin on her face from successfully riling him up and getting what she wanted.

Tav is blushing.

"What did he say?" She feels hesitant to bring attention to herself when she knows she's bright red, but she's also too nosy for her own good.

Lia looks at her and opens her mouth to answer, but pauses as she takes in Tav's face. Cal, blissfully, doesn't notice.

"Well the first bit was him calling her a suck up," he laughs through his explanation, "and the second bit was him telling her exactly where she could shove her sword."

She laughs, and thanks him for telling her. Lia is still looking at her. Her face warms more.

"What?"

"Hm." Lia smiles in a way that looks slightly threatening; the way Tav imagines a shark would smile at a seal before taking a huge chunk out of it. "Nothing, really. Only, you weren't that flushed before Rolan spoke in infernal. Got a thing for the devil's tongue, have you Tav?"

Cal furrows his eyebrows in confusion, before his eyes widen and his mouth drops in an 'o' of understanding.

She's about to deny it but she can feel that she's even redder now, so instead she buries her face in her hands. "Don't you dare! Don't you dare say anything!"

"Say anything about what?" Of course Rolan would walk back in now. He places Lia's cup in front of her and turns to Tav expectantly, but Lia speaks before she can.

"Tav is just embarrassed because she didn't understand what you said, she felt left out."

His face breaks into a look of confusion, "You shouldn't be embarrassed by that, Tav, you don't speak the language. Uztanatez-" Tav sucks in a breath, and Lia snorts, "means 'bootlicker'. Gladiz zurzum kuluz means... well... 'shove your sword up your rear'."

Cal and Lia are both sporting shit eating grins. Tav thinks now is a good time to pick a God and pray.

~~~

" Pulch'zer."

He says it as she walks through the door to the study one morning.

"Sorry, repeat that?"

His eyes widen, and his face flushes a deep crimson colour. She's never seen him blush before, or at least she's never noticed because of his skin's natural shade.

"Sorry I was just..." He averts his gaze, looking back at the paperwork he's working on, "I was just thinking out loud..."

She chuckles lightly. "Ah, that text will be kicking your ass then. Pulch'zer. What does it mean?"

He looks up at her again. His eyes lock with hers.

"You're close, it's not pulch'zer, it's pulch'zer . You have to put more emphasis on the 'Z' sound."

Gods, she needs to stop asking. He always ends up correcting her, and she always ends up going bright pink. He pronounces the words more precisely when he's teaching her how to say them, it drives her insane.

"Pulch- Pulch? Pulch'zer."

He chuckles, stands and walks over to her. "You're close, but now you're putting too much emphasis on it." He's only an arms length away from her now. " Pulch'zer ."

She gulps. He needs to stop repeating it.

"P- Pulch'zer." She can't tear her eyes away from him, she stares right into his gaze as she repeats it. He sucks a small breath in, so small it's barely noticeable.

"Yes. Very good."

There's a pause.

"So. What does it mean?"

He's flushing again. "It... Well. It..."

She raises an eyebrow, "that bad huh?"

"... it means 'beautiful'."

Tav's face twists in confusion. "What about your book is beaut-"

Rolan surges forward and plants his lips on hers. She gasps into it, the rest of her words swallowed by her inhale and his tongue. She sinks into it. His hands fall onto her waist, and he uses them to drag her closer, pulling the whole length of his body against hers. When he pulls away it feels far too soon, but in his defence he's breathless. He only leans his chest away, his hips still against hers.

"I wasn't talking about the book."

The look in his eyes is vulnerable in a way she's never seen him before. As though he desperately wants her to understand, and yet is terrified that she will. Like he's scared to fracture whatever comfortable thing they've fallen into together.

"Well..." She takes a deep breath, rests a hand on his chest. "Then I'd like you to know that I think you're very pulch'zer."

He sucks in through his teeth and lets out a single disbelieving laugh. "That sounds ridiculously good when you say it, you know."

She snorts, dismissive, "please, it's far better when you say it. I love when you speak infernal."

He stares at her.

She feels her eyes bug out of her head as what she said hits her. "I mean! Not that- I don't mean that like-"

"You love it? What does that mean?"

She can feel the heat in her face. Suddenly everywhere he's touching her is too much, she needs to fall through the floor to a new realm and start her life over with a fake name.

"I don't- I didn't mean-"

As she fumbles over her words, Rolan's face starts to lift into an understanding smirk. "Oh. I see. You love it."

He leans forward towards her, and his lips brush her ear.

"Tibiz plazet link'zon mezoq ?"

She shudders, "Rolan, I have no idea what you're saying."

He chuckles lowly against the shell of her ear. " Zedzit'n, nul'umne? Zede illizquit diko ."

Gods, it's torturous. He's dropped his voice an octave, giving the already heavy words an even more gravelled tone. Her breath is coming out in pants and she whines. The way it's affecting her is ridiculous.

He doesn't stop, " morentez me'zam? Notzo'illi ."

"Rolan, please."

He grins against her, and she feels his length pressing against her body through his robes. " Quid plaket, dilekt'miz ?"

" Rolan , common tongue, please . I want to know what you're saying."

"I said 'please what?'"

Tav huffs in irritation, "I don't know."

He brings his lips up to brush hers, smiling against her as she tries to pull him closer.

"Do you want me to kiss you again?"

She swallows hard around the lump in her throat and nods.

"Mhm. Ask me nicely."

The noise she lets out is embarrassing, a high pitched whine that she couldn't stop if she tried, but she feels his breath against her lips as he exhales in excitement.

"Kiss me, Rolan. Please."

His smile is wide against her, "as you wish, pulch'zer."

When he kisses her, his lips are gentle against hers. Soft and pliant, eager but restrained. When he parts them slowly, she responds in kind and finds his tongue with hers, and he rewards her with a deep, sensual moan from low in his throat. His lips are warm and soft, his mouth tastes of spearmint, his breath flows through her. She feels her small-clothes growing damp.

As he deepens the kiss his movements grow more insistent, more intense, and he squeezes her hips as he grinds her into him. She moans in response and the noise flips a switch in him. All of a sudden his lips are frantic, the kiss turning messy and needy, and his hands are running up and down her body as thought they don't know where to settle.

He pulls back enough to speak, his breath dancing along her lips, his voice barely above a whisper. " Nezkiz quid'mih fakiaz. Volui'illi tamd'umne ."

Tav moans, long and slow as the words rush over her skin, "Gods, Rolan. I wish I knew what you were saying. Fuck ."

He chuckles quietly, "perhaps I'll teach you Comprehend Languages. Then again... Forzit adv'illi."

She groans. "Rolan, please ."

He grins, grinding his length against her, "please, what?"

The huff she lets out is impatient, "you know what."

His mouth traces the shell of her ear again and she shivers. "Perhaps. But tell me anyway."

She groans, "please fuck me, Rolan."

He needs no further invitation. Rolan undresses them both rapidly, swift and efficient just as he treats his work, and they're both bare before each-other in a few moments.

When he looks over her, sweeping his eyes across her form, he lets out a low noise of appreciation. "Hells, Tav, you're beautiful."

She feels nervous, all of a sudden, bare before him, but she smiles despite it. "So are you."

He's back on her, trailing his lips along her throat and collarbone, leaving teasing bites and grazes with his canines. She's a whimpering, writhing mess beneath him but she doesn't care. She can feel his length pressed against her stomach, can feel the grooves of the door on her back, and she's absolutely aching with need.

"Is this okay? Are you comfortable?" His questions make her chest ache with a different kind of need to the one pulsing through her core.

"Yes, Rolan. Please, for the love of- fuck me against this door."

His moan in response to her words is loud and wanton. " Hells , Tav. Lift your leg for me."

She does, and he grabs under her knee, lifting it up so it wraps around his hip, the heel of her foot against the base of his tail while her other foot stays planted against the floor. His other hand comes between them, grips the base of his cock and rubs it against her folds. She throws her head back as she keens, and at the same time he lets out a groan closer to a growl.

"Fuck, you're so wet. Is- This is still okay? You want this?" His voice wavers with lust.

Hearing him curse is almost as incredible as hearing him speak infernal. "Yes , Gods if you don't-"

He's sliding himself into her before she can finish her threat, and the rest of her words fizzle out into a high pitched moan as she throws her head back. His length is ridged and she can feel every notch as it slides into her. He works his way into her slowly, thrusting only an inch at a time until his pelvis comes to rest against hers, and he folds over to rest his forehead against her shoulder.

His first half of his sentence is muttered, the second half directed at her, "Tam strikta , fuck. Ita infek'tum strikta. Tell me when you're ready, dilekt'miz."

"I'm ready, please, fuck me."

He silences his own moan by clamping his mouth over the meat between her neck and shoulder, and begins thrusting shallowly. The slide of him inside her, the ridges on his shaft dragging against her walls, has her tightening her leg around his waist and dragging him closer. He grunts through his mouthful of her skin and starts to pick up his pace, until he's thrusting hard and fast into her.

She's a mess, and she knows it, but it doesn't matter. She's digging her heel into his ass and arching her hips away from the door to get closer to him, head thrown back and eyes wrenched shut. It's too much, but it's not enough. She grabs his hand that isn't holding her knee up and places it round the back of her other thigh. He's a quick study as always, taking a firm hold on the back of her leg and hoisting her other leg up around him, so she's held up against the door by just his weight against her and his bruising grip. It changes the angle, he drives deeper into her, and they both moan in tandem.

He's speaking again, infernal dialect spilling from him freely into her skin, " Nezkiz. Nezkiz quam di'tez vellem. Quamdiu korpuz tuum'kontraz petivi. Vid'tez habzeq. Miz'tib animez'umne ." He speaks the words with a reverence that that has her keening, clenching around him.

"Rolan, I'm so close, fuck don't stop."

He shakes his head, thrusts into her harder, "Hells, I won't, Tav. I won't, I won't, adv'illi, adv'illi -"

The utterance of more quiet infernal words against her tips her over the edge, and she finds her release around him. His movements become stuttered, desperate, " Tez amorez. Tez amorez taz'multo. Perfik'miz. Amaz, amaz, num'quam latuz dezeraz. Morent'illi anim defendam."

He follows her over the precipice and empties himself inside her. She tightens her hold on him with her legs and kisses his neck as his hips twitch through his release, and as he stills they both try to find breath against each-other's skin.

"Gods, Tav." His voice is hoarse, "you- that was- I-"

She chuckles, which makes her walls clench and his hips stutter as he gasps at the feeling. "That was amazing, Rolan. What... Um. What were you saying?"

She pulls away to look at him, and his face is incredibly red. His freckles are barely visible through the violent blush. "Oh, um. Nothing- Nothing, really. Nothing important. Just... babbling. You know."

She laughs, slowly lowering her legs to the ground, both shuddering as he pulls himself from her. He mutters a quick incantation and they're both clean.

"You're going to have to teach me Comprehend Languages, now. I'm far too nosy to leave it at that."

"Hm. We'll see."

~~~

Translations:

"Tibiz plazet link'zon mezoq?" ("You like when I speak to you in my native tongue?")

"Zedzit'n, nul'umne? Zede illizquit diko." ("But you don't care, do you? It's not about what I say.")

"Morentez me'zam? Notzo'illi." ("Moaning for me already? Aren't I lucky.")

Quid plaket, dilekt'miz?" ("Please what, my beloved?")(he lies and tells her it means "please what?")

"Nezkiz quid'mih fakiaz. Volui'illi tamd'umne." ("You have no idea what you do to me. I have wanted you for so long.")

"Then again... Forzit adv'illi." ("Then again... Perhaps I won't.")

"Tam strikta, fuck. Ita infek'tum strikta. Tell me when you're ready, dilekt'miz." ("So wet, fuck. So tight and wet. Tell me when you're ready, my beloved.")

"Nezkiz. Nezkiz quam di'tez vellem. Quamdiu korpuz tuum'kontraz petivi. Vid'tez habzeq. Miz'tib animez'umne." ("You have no idea. You have no idea how long I've wanted you. How long I've craved your body against mine. I have dreamt of having you like this. My soul burns for you.")

"adv'illi" ("I won't.")

"Tez amorez. Tez amorez taz'multo. Perfik'miz. Amaz, amaz, num'quam latuz dezeraz. Morent'illi anim defendam." ("I love you. I love you so much. You complete me. Please, please never leave my side. I would protect you to my dying breath.")

[hyacinthoideshispanica]

In the final episode, Vox and the other Vees don't realize that Alastor came back. They think they have or will have free reign of Hell.

So, I would love for season two to begin with the Vees calling a meeting of the overlords and declaring that, in the wake of such chaos and violence, they will happily take charge of things and in the middle of their speech, Alastor just waltzes in, apologizes for being late then makes direct, smug eye contact with Vox as he sits down and Vox is so enraged his system crashes and Velvette and Valentino have to carry him out of the room.

The Vees: .... and we are more than happy to take charge of any district from any overlord currently overwhelmed or missing and-

Everything stops as the doors open, and Alastor strides in.

Alastor: My humblest apologies for being late! The princess required my assistance this morning.

Valentino and Velvette immediately turn to Vox, whose face glitches in enraged shock. Alastor stares directly at Vox with a smug smile as he takes his seat and then looks around at all the other overlords.

Alastor, while gesturing towards the Vees: How kind of you all to stall the meeting with trivial matters until everyone was present! Well, I am here now. So, shall we get started?

Velvette: We already have started, you pric-

Vox shoves Velvette aside to get as close to Alastor as he can.

Vox, his entire face a furious shade of red: FU-

His scream is cut off abruptly, and his screen goes black. His body tenses for a moment, then goes limp and falls back.

The other Vees rush to catch him, and Velvette ends up holding him up under the arms, and Valentino holds his legs.

Velvette: What did you do to him, you outdated prick?

Alastor chuckles: Why, I didn't do anything! It must have been stress. You know, technology can be so sensitive these days!

The Vees begin carrying Vox out of the room.

Valentino: Fuck you, Alastor!

Alastor, cheerfully waving goodbye: No, thank you!

The Vees manage to get Vox back to their place and are waiting for his system to reboot.

Valentino, while pouring himself a drink: So, I can't cause a scene when Angel leaves me for Lucifer's little brat, but he can crash his entire system in front of everyone over Alastor of all people?!

Velvette: Oh, shut up, Val!

Suddenly, Vox's screen goes bright, and he bolts into a sitting position.

Vox: FUCK YOU, ALASTOR!

Velvette sighs and pours herself a drink.

Velvette: Well, I hope you're proud of yourself, Vox. You humiliated all of us for the sake of your weird little crush!

Vox looks around, realizes where he is, collapses into a fetal position, and begins sobbing.

Vox: Why won't he just die!

[grunklefordpines]

sorry friends!

there’s a LOT of asks in my inbox! a lot of them are serious questions that require me to use my head——so my humblest apologies for making everyone wait so long!

you’re all so creative with questions i am trying my darnedest to keep up!

much love ^_^ !!

[tragedybunny]

Dance With Me Under the Diamonds, See Me Like Breath in the Cold Part 2- Astarion x F!Reader

Part 1 here

Hello lovelies! It's part two of the wedding fic I published some time back! I love these two and I'm excited to share the next steps on their journey.

Reader and Astarion have a conversation the morning after their wedding that lays bare some secrets of the past.

The unexpected scent of bacon wakes you, and you roll over to sit up. You cringe, feeling a bit of soreness, well everywhere, but especially between your legs from the activities between you and your new husband last night. 

Husband. That brings you back to bacon. Neither of you were all that competent in the kitchen, and you found your curiosity piqued. Your eyes spot a nightgown you'd left draped across a chair, as though you'd ever had any chance of wearing it last night. 

You're just slipping it over your head to go investigate when the bedroom door opens and your aforementioned husband enters, a tray of bacon, eggs, fruit, and warm tea in his hands, and warmth dancing in his crimson eyes.  

“So you can walk this morning,” he gives you a toothy grin, the tips of his fangs adorably peaking out from between his lips. 

“What a lewd way to greet your wife,” you feign irritation and settle back on the bed.

“My humblest apologies,” he delivers the tray to your waiting lap and makes himself comfortable at your side, “my love.”

“I suppose that's acceptable,” you turn and catch his lips in a quick kiss before setting your attention on the tray before you: perfectly crispy bacon, fried eggs with the yolk still slightly soft, buttered toast, your favorite red berries in a small bowl, and a warm mug of strong tea. It’s he perfect breakfast you'd order at any inn when the two of you traveled. “How did you manage all this?” You ask, bacon already halfway to your mouth. 

“What? Are my abilities in the kitchen in question?” He puffs and you stare him down, the playful rhythm you two know so well. “Fine. I have been listening when Gale goes on about cooking. And practicing when I get a chance here and there. The love of my life deserves the best.”

You take a sip of tea, the perfect amount of honey sweetens it. “I already have the best. I have you, Astarion. And I love you so very much.”

“I love you too, but do try not to make me cry again this morning, darling. I already did that enough in front of everyone last night.” 

Snuggled into your side, head resting on your shoulder, he doesn't make eating easy, but that hardly matters. Fingers idly trace your thighs, hip, and stomach, while you chat   about your wedding last night. You can tell there's a cloud hanging over you both now, though, and there are things that need to be brought out into the open. Finally, when you finish, you set the tray on the bedside table and let Astarion wrap himself around you, resting his head on your chest. “About what you were able to see last night,” no use delaying it. 

He makes a soft hum against your skin, a noise you know means he’s thinking about what exactly to say. Fingers stroke through his curls as you give him a moment, there’s no rush, Today is just for the two of you. “You know, Cazador used to pass us off as either servants or distant relatives, usually he’d wait a few years, then we would switch parts. It made it easy to spy on the other nobles. Of course, I usually got stuck playing servant as a punishment. He’d loan us out to other houses to assist with their large events. He sent me to spy on a girl, some noble's daughter, at her sister’s wedding. Lucky thing married the only cousin left of the Vanthampur’s. When the dear old Duke and her offspring met their end, she inherited everything, and her husband is more prisoner than spouse, they say.”

The night of your Samara’s wedding is burned into your mind, it was the night you first heard of your own nuptial fate, your sentence for the crime of being born into your family. You thought nearly every detail blazed with clarity, but the faces of the endless horde of temporary help elude you. A reply forms on your lips but Astarion continues on from where he lays, hand entwining with yours, lips idly brushing your neck. “She seemed ordinary, if a bit withdrawn. Pretty enough little thing, I might add.” 

That earns a weary laugh from you. “I didn’t expect to see her again, but I did, months later. The last party Cazador hosted before everything, she was there. By that time rumor had gone around that Cazador was going to take on some sort of consort as part of an alliance. I think Gortash’s rapid ascent was unsettling for some of the old families. The poor thing, she looked terrified, she knew something was wrong in that house. And…,” his voice breaks. Unconsciously, you pull him tighter, he’s not the only one reliving that night. 

Drowning in a dress of purple and black, you were hauled to Szarr manor on pain of death. Not that it mattered, nothing mattered with Ophelia gone. Your first love, the tiefling that tended the gardens of your home, the only place you were allowed to move around freely outside the house. She’d disappeared right after your sister’s wedding, your Mother’s work no doubt. At the time, you had no idea Cazador was a vampire, but the whole manor was full of an air of hungry malice, and fear sprouted in all the shadows. Even the servants had an unearthly quality to them. “...we laughed at her. Well, Petras, Violet, and I, the most. Because we knew what awaited her when she became the center of Cazador’s attention. And it would be a relief to have someone else around that he could torture. She was so scared, but we didn’t have any empathy left in us, so we mocked her future suffering. I’m so sorry, my love.” 

Since the first time he’d mentioned Cazador, you’d wanted to tell him, to empathize with him. But doing so would've broken your pact, taken away the shroud that hid you from your family. In your more introspective moments, you wondered if fate had somehow bound the two of you. You’d passed like ships in the night, you not even noticing him as a servant among the Szarr retinue, and reason would say you should have never met again. Yet he, of all the populace of Baldur’s Gate, was swept up by the Mindflayers, and lived to fall to that beach. You leave a comforting kiss on his forehead. “We left the past behind, remember, don’t worry yourself over it.” While it does sting to know there was a time he would’ve enjoyed your suffering, you know it will pass, inconsequential as the flower petals that used to litter the garden paths. 

Even if it wasn’t fate, your love had grown out of the most amazing circumstances and it had given you courage to keep traveling the new path you’d laid out for yourself, even when you’d nearly stumbled at the beginning. Astarion sits up and you find his eyes watery, but he cups your cheek and brushes a thumb over it tenderly. “If you say so. It’s not like anyone else was getting a better version of me at the time I suppose.” He studies you for a moment, thinking again, before speaking. “Can you tell me about yourself now? Is it safe?” 

Why Titania has granted you this reprieve, you’re not really sure, but you’re grateful that there’s no longer any forced secrets between you. “I believe so.” You try to gather your disparate thoughts, but a thousand little bits of darkness begin to tug at you, threatening to pull you down until ice water fills your lungs as you sink into a black ocean. “I…”

It’s not the pact that keeps you from talking, but years of entrenched dread. “You don’t have to, love, not if you’re not ready.” Astarion recognizes it too, hand now gently squeezing yours. 

Shaking your head, you dispel the ghosts of that dark house, your life is full of love and light now. “No, I want to try.” A thought strikes you, a fitting place to start. “Can I tell you about Ophelia? I-I loved her, and I haven’t been able to even say her name since.” 

Silence hangs between you and your breath is stilled, you hadn’t thought about how Astarion might feel, hearing about your first love. “I would be honored,” he presses his lips to yours. “And I can’t wait to learn everything else about my darling wife as well.” 

Tag List:

@micropoe10  @writingmysanity @mxxny-lupin @azu21

 @tallymonster  @dependsonthedream @sunfire-ancunin 

@bambamwolf87 @fayeriess @lumienyx @lisrelly

@elora-the-slutty-songstress @bhaalbaaby @spacebarbarianweird

@satanicspinosaurus @darlingxdragon

[fayes-fics]

The Best Laid Plans...

So, with a heavy heart, I have to apologise that it now looks unlikely I will be able to post any more fics in 2023.

I had hoped to write and post three other holiday fics and a birthday fic next week. That seems very unlikely to happen now. I don't foresee having any writing time. I will of course try my very best.

Unfortunately, there has been a death in my workplace, which means my workload between now and Christmas has doubled. I will be working LONG hours and have barely any time to do anything but sleep between now and the end of next week.

So apologies to everyone, especially the person whose birthday fic deadline I will miss. You know who you are. My humblest apologies my dear. 🫶

Sorry, I'm sure no one was waiting with bated breath or anything, but still, I hate to break a promise. 🫣🧡🧡

[throwaway-yandere]

!!!Yandere Genshin/Reader 2.5k Follows Mini-Event: Secret Penpals (Masterlist)!!!

cw: contains yandere themes, including stalking, possessive behavior, etc. do not engage if you’re sensitive to the topics mentioned. prioritize your mental health first, you matter.   

Time remaining: █ days, █ hours, █ minutes (closed!!! please wait until Thoma delivers all the letters &lt;3)

✧ Inazuma is currently holding another Irodori Festival and the Yashiro Commission and Yae Publishing House has a secret pen pal service going on... Perhaps you should write a letter and hand it over to Ms. Hina! Who knows, maybe you'll find another Paimon!

Possible Rewards: A new friend : )

“How is the list, Gorou?”

“Well, I got the names of some of the penpals. We got Always-So-Busy Sakabashira, Widower Momiji, A Headless Knight, Calx, and a couple more weird and whimsical names… There’s like… around 10 or something.”

“Ah, I see, Sakabashira is █████ isn’t it– wait, even Calx is joining? Isn’t he a Mondstadter?”

“Aren’t you one too? Now that you mention it, there’s a couple of foreigners joining this event– we even got someone from Snezhnaya.” 

“Haha, where do you think Blue Eyes White Dragon could be from? Betting on Liyue.”

“Hmm… I have a hunch that they’re from Fontaine...”

“But what if they’re yokai, though?”

...

“... Do yokais play TCG?”

"... I know Itto does…"

[match-up event guidelines under the cut]

—-------

SALUTATIONS! Mx. Ansy here– thank you so much for the 2k follows! I don’t celebrate White Days so this will be the reason why this event exists. No clue why that happened, but for the celebration’s sake, here’s a mini event as my thanks!!! (Even though it’s long overdue since I’m at 2.5k hahahaha…) 

Thank you to everyone that followed, liked, left comments (omg), reblogged, etc. ILYSM!!!! <3 (Don’t worry, I’m still working on the idol au ehe. I need you all to know about music composer!Tighnari’s mental fatigue.)

Here are the event guidelines and an example of how this works provided by “Ms. Hina” and “Fixer”!

Event Guidelines ✥:

NO NSFW MESSAGES. (Please remember someone is writing behind all this lmao. I’m asexual so my humblest apologies.)

Feel free to go nuts with your pen pal's name! No need to use the word “anon”. As long as you kept your identity a secret, you’re safe! There’s no real rule, just make sure it’s not longer than 6 words. 

Why is six words the maximum? Well… My best friend, Fried Tofu With All The Frills, “suggested” that it’s better that way…

Remember who runs this event behind the screen. Expect stalkers, monsters, etc. to respond to your letter.

You don't know who your pen pal is. Don't name who the receiver of your letter is. This is luck-based, and if I'm feeling like a gremlin I might just send your letter to Reckless Pallad if you do this lol. 

As the event name suggests: some might get villain NPCs & non-yandere character/s. Welcome back to another round of RNG if you aren’t already fricking tired from artifact grinding.

Only one penpal per person. No repeats. Every time I do an event, the yanderes are loyal.

Are you reading the guidelines? Good. Take note of this specific instruction or else I won’t add your letter to the event registration: greet your pen pal with a “Happy Irodori Festival!” or anything similar. That’s how I’ll know you’ve read everything.

Your letter could be around 200 words max but don’t feel forced to hit that threshold haha. Talk about whatever you want then send it in this blog’s ask box! I’ll pass it on to Ms. Hina or Fixer ♡

The response you’ll receive varies, but expect a minimum word count of at least 100 (some characters just won't write long). Hard to fit things with a single letter. Maybe your pen pal would be desperate enough to write 2 pages on their first reply. But don’t count on it. I’m trying my best to give out short replies to this event. The last idol event had 2k-6k word counts (when my plan was 1.8k max). This is me trying my best to exercise self-control lolololol.

Every letter is made on Canva. Huge shoutout to that website for carrying my SHS career and this event because I have S-tier garbage handwriting.

Also, a huge shoutout to @/watatsumiis! General inspired me to do this event, so please check his works if you want to read fluffy fics that’ll make you giggle! He provides such amazing brain rots, I swear. Unlike this gremlin right here, he’s wonderful and wholesome both as a writer and a person.

Well then, time for an example! Please copy Ms. Hina’s lead when you write your letter &lt;3

Tutorial/Example ✥:

“Dear Secret Penpal,

Happy Irodori festival! My name is Miss Hina, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I know that festivals tend to make everyone exhausted, so whoever this letter is addressed to, I hope you’re taking care of yourself. Remember to eat and drink water regularly! Even when to be honest, I already know who you are. I’m not great at talking about myself, but if anything is troubling you, don’t keep it all muzzled up inside.

- Ms. Hina”

The “penpal”’s reply (example only!!!):

Hmm, wonder who that could be? /s

Have fun!!! Happy Irodori Festival!!! (even though it’s windblume rn. I just can’t think of a book-based genshin event so lol here’s an advanced irodori patch for everyone.)

List of penpals/Masterlist:

SOME ARE CURRENTLY A SECRET

Don't get too cocky, though. Some of them aren't who you think they are ehe

"Calx" - Luthien

"Deshret" - Lisa

"Blue Eyes White Dragon" - ????

"Always-So-Busy Sakabashira" - Second Hand Of Time

"A Headless Knight" - Choco Found In Puppy's Tummy

"Widower Momiji" - Starlight

"Big Ears" - Honey On A Stick

"Fixer" - Tofu

"Fratello" - ????

No name - Vermiculis Creatio

No name - ????

[katies-anonymous-post-box]

sorry for the third ask, but this is cognate anon again!

just, when you responded to my last ask you used "her" and I use they/them pronouns for now (ughghghgh gender crisisssss).

sorry for the random ask

SORRY

I see you are the latest victim of AFBK (assigned female by Katie), the awful disease I have where I default to she/her for everyone, sometimes even cis males, sometimes even when I fully know the person’s pronouns, and most notably three times for Keefe Sencen.

My humblest apologies 🙏💞

[chibi-celesti]

Twisted Tonelico (A Twisted wonderland x Ar Tonelico AU) part 3

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4(End of Book 00)

Book Prologue: Zenva ryushe tes gyas gyenel ciel (pt.3)

Previously: Meryu continued with correcting her senior. “It’s actually Ms., Mr. Crowley. You see…I’m a girl.”

The room was quiet for a moment at the response, until…

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!?!?!?!”

~Twisted Tonelico~

“A-a GIRL?! The Dark Carriage brought not just a mage with potential not fitting into any dorm in this school, but A GIRL!?”

Confusion painted over the crowd one again, as well as anger at the revelation. A girl in Night Raven College is taboo AND VERY MUCH UNALLOWED. And for it to happen this year felt like a stung to the student body’s pride. Especially considering what the Dark Mirror read of her soul.

‘A girl with supposed ‘Otherworldly magic!’ ‘What is she, some type of freak?!’ ‘Bet you she’s freakier than THAT guy!’ came from the crowd.

The headmage, too, was beside himself, mumbling how something like this has never happened in the years he was Headmage for the school. How he needs to correct this issue right away. With haste, he ushered Meryu to the mirror on the podium.

“My humblest apologies, Ms. Melenas. I am unsure of how you were brought here, but allow me to graciously help you back home.”

The girl was caught off by the eccentric man’s actions. She did not expect to be dragged so quickly to the odd relic again, but here she is. “U-um. What am I supposed to-?”

“Just look into the mirror, and imagine your home.” Crowley stated matter-of-factly. “The mirror will be able to return you to where you came from. Farewell, Ms. Melenas. I do apologize for the problems that occurred this evening.”

He called upon the mirror’s powers, summoning the strange to appear once again. “O Magic Mirror, I call upon thee. Return this child from once she came.”

The mirror was silent.

The masked man cleared his throat, and tried again. “O-o Magic Mirror-”

“There is no home for her.”

That response froze the brunette on the spot. “Huh? What do you mean?!”

“The place she belongs to is nowhere in this world. It does not exist.”

She almost fell to her knees. Ar Tonelico…doesn’t exist… That can’t be true!! The girl drowned out Dire's words, honing on what the mirror before her just said. ‘Ar Tonelico DOES exist! It has to!’ Maybe the mirror needs a clue of what her home looks like. Correction: maybe if it knows what her world is and sounds like, then maybe she’ll be able to go home.

“Mr. Crowley!” Meryu shouted.

Said man halted his complaints, facing the girl. “Yes?”

Shoulders squared, she said to him: “Is it ok if I sing to the mirror?”

He was dumbfounded, processing what he heard correctly. “S-sing? You want to sing to the mirror?” The girl nodded.

“You see, my song could maybe give the mirror a clue about what my world is like. A lot better than just a mental image.”

…

The room busted out with laughter at her declaration.

“Sing! Seriously!” “This girl’s jokin, right!?” “Ain’t no way she’s serious about singing!” “Girly must think she’s a princess, or a Royal Sword brat!”

Meryu puffed her cheek in annoyance. It’s one thing if these boys are laughing at her, but it’s another to see even the Headmage laughing at her idea, too. And that ticked her off even more. “I AM serious!!”

Riddle mocked the poor girl. “Sure you are, Ms. I’m sure the mirror will adore hearing you waste your breath and everyone’s time on singing.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t put us all to sleep,” Azul added.

The older man cleared his throat and tried to recompose himself. “Ah. Y-yes, of course. My dearest apologizes, my dear. You may sing to it if you wish. It might not do much to the mirror, so this should be amusing to see.”

She was close to popping a blood vessel, but the girl kept her composure.Last thing she needed was to let off another ‘Boom!’ spell. Facing the mirror once again, Meryu took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and began to sing a familiar melody.

Rrha ki ra tie yor ini en nha Wee ki ra parge yor ar ciel Was yea ra chs mea yor en fwal Ma ki ga ks maya yor syec

In an instant, the room went dead silent. All eyes were on her in shock. She is singing true to her word but….none of what she’s saying sounded like any song they heard!

Was yea ra Wee yea ra Chs hymmne Chs frawr Chs yor En chs ar ciel ya! Wee yea ra ene foul enrer Wee yea ra ene hymmne syec mea Was yea ra hymmne mea ks maya gyen yeal Inna ar hopb syec mea ya YA!

Everyone is baffled. They cannot make heads or tails of what this weird girl is singing. She’s singing with such conviction; They’re unsure whether to be impressed or concerned.

And somehow, from where the two composed students and headmage stand, the Dark Mirror is reacting to her song!

Amakami wo kakemau Tama sasayaki yueba Kammuribi furimichite Nanihito yuki orinase

“NOW SHE’S SINGING OUR LANGUAGE?!” the collective students exclaimed. Even with their shouting, this did not deter Meryu from singing.

Samidare no aimi o tada  Nagaruru koe wa Utsuroi sakanagi oborogena Furusato no ne

Soon, as if listening to the girl’s pleas, the Dark Mirror joined in her song.

Kanade narifuku Gaia sora ni Hibiki ainaseba Habataku inori no uta matoite (Was yea ra chs hymmnos yor en chs fwal fwal yor exec drone hymmnos enter yor Ma num ra flip 0x1011001001 yor enter ar hymmnos ar ciel Exec enter AR_TONELICO)*

Both the artifact and the young woman sung in harmony.  They sang as if they were old friends talking to each other. The hypnotizing song reverberated off the walls, echoing throughout the entire building and across the whole campus. This has never happened before in Night Raven College- nigh- in the History of Twisted Wonderland itself! The Dire, too, had no clue as to what to make of such a discovery!

Yasuragi no oka namida no  Garasu kioku no hako omoi no hi Hitoe ikue no utsurou kiito  Tamashii no ne musubitsunagu Tayutau mu no umi Shourei no kazaiki Tokeyuu mandara ni utai no miko are (Wee yea ra ene foul enrer hymme syec mea Wee yea ra ene foul enrer pomb yor en yor. Was num ra haf ar ciel sara, dorn, fhyu, hymma En hymmne leat mea en ciel harmon en mea Was yea ra chs hymmnos mea)

As the song reached the climax, the air crackled with bizarre magic. The weight of such power felt crushing, but also rejuvenating in an odd way. To most, it felt almost like a certain someone’s, but not as ominous or scary. In fact, it felt comforting, warm even. Not a single soul knows as to why, but they couldn’t help but embrace this odd feeling and power.

Once the last notes were sung, the girl began to open her eyes, and she prayed that her song gave the mirror a clue. That the mirror had found her home, had found Ar Tonelico. A moment passed, and then another…

…Until everything went dark once again. The last thing Meryu heard before losing consciousness altogether was a message from the Mirror:

-Rrha ki erra chs diasee yorr sos ciel-**

~Phase 00: Tes Biron~

Hymmnos Key(Loose Translation):

*Rrha ki erra chs diasee yorr sos ciel:

I christen you as the Divine Child of this world(Twisted Wonderland).

Additional Note:

The song sung by Meryu and the Dark Mirror is the Singing Hill: Eolia. The first intro song for the first Ar Tonelico series.

Bolded text in the song: Dark Mirror singing

(Parenthesised Text) in song: Meryu singing

[bxldrsdraumar]

The Dog That Sleeps Beneath the Eaves

When Sigurd had first began to regain his consciousness, he had heard talk of the city beneath the monastery. 'Abyss', it was called, and spoken of only in hushed tones - if it was spoken by name at all. Often it was merely hinted at, sotto voce, when his caretakers assumed he was still too delirious to hear or understand.

They were right, but it didn't stop them from continuing to gossip after he had become more hale, moving about the upper levels of the monastery's main keep in his convalescence. And it certainly did not stop those on the ground level from whispering about it, when he was well enough to visit the training hall, cathedral, verandas.

A place for outcasts, it was said. For atonement. For hiding.

From what, it was unclear, though it seemed to Sigurd if everyone spoke of it, it must not be a very good hiding place. Indeed, it only took a little curiosity from him, the barest mention of interest, and he was able to find the location of its entrance.

A man, armed and in brigandine and furs, eyed him warily, and his hesitance only increased when he spied the Church of Seiros patch embroidered on Sigurd's tunic, a symbol of his place in the knights. "Listen, we have no need of trouble down here, this lot's seen enough."

"Just as well," he said, "for I've none to give. I…merely came to see for myself."

It seemed natural in his duties as a noble to see how those less fortunate suffered, to take in the status his home with the good and the bad, but for all that he meant it kindly the gatekeeper seemed to  take insult with the notion, bowing sarcastically. "Oh, well, then by all means. Take in the sights. Tourists," he snorted.

Regardless, he took this to mean that he was permitted entry, and did just that: he took everything in, walking slowly about the market street, peering into the labyrinthine sewer pathways, even stopping into the ramshackle pub for half a moment.

"By the Crusaders," he murmured. His heart ached to see such a place, to imagine the dire straits that these people must have suffered to feel the need to scurry about underneath the earth. Was the Church doing nothing for these people? He had half a mind to ask.

He spun on his heel abruptly, intent on moving out of what appeared to be their library, colliding solidly with the man that appeared to be trying to enter.

"Oh, my goodness!" Sigurd's hand lashed out on instinct, gripping the man's arm to steady him. "I was lost in thought. I am Sigurd, of…of the Knights of Seiros. Please accept my humblest apologies, my lord…?" He trailed off, prompting the man for his name.

@anankelotus

[4pp13-ju1c3]

Bio work doodle dump (again) 🔥🔥

Ok really, my humblest apologies for not posting anything full (let alone anything at all) but i haven’t really had time so my bad guys

ALSO!! a wip that i have yet to touch for a good couple of weeks

(update for the whole ‘setting up account’ thing: i’m going to be changing my user @ to something else that’s just easier for everyone and i’m currently making a carrd to link all my other platforms and stuff to help you guys and myself so get ready and buckle up 😈) [original user: @xxwhippedcreamxx]

[liviavanrouge]

Finding Angels Home pt 11

Livia: *Walks with Rollo, Kalim, Sebek, Leona and Ruggie* Here's The Dark Fields..

Rollo: Tread lightly! Me and Livia are the only ones they won't attack

???: *Roars startling them*

Livia and Rollo: HERE COMES BARBATOS!

Ruggie: WHO'S BARBATOS??!

Kalim: I'M GUESSING HE'S THAT GIANT DRAGON COMING THIS WAY! *Points towards the black and gray dragon flying their way*

Barbatos: *Lands and snarls at Kalim, Sebek, Leona and Ruggie*

Leona: *Stares in alarm* ...it's huge...

Livia: BARBATOS! DOWN BOY!

Barbatos: *Snarls advancing on the four boys, purple flames coming from his mouth*

???: INCOMING!

Livia: *Sighs in relief*

???: *Lands on the dragons back and grabs the reins, pulling Barbatos back*

Kalim: WOAH!

???: Down Barbs! Down boy!

Barbatos: *Growls and huffs, stepping back*

Rollo: *Nods in greeting* Dynia...

Dynia: Heyo!

???: Mom!

Dynia: Ghost! Everyone! Look who's here!

Ghost: *Beams* LIVIA!

Livia: *Laughs, Ghost throwing his arms around her waist* Hey Ghost!

Ghost: I'm so happy to see you!

Livia: Likewise!

Ruggie: Who're these guys?

Livia: Everyone meet the Southern Natives, this is Dynia, she's the chief and her son here is, Ghost!

Dynia: *Waves smiling, a hand on Livia's shoulder*

Livia: These are the rest of the tribe members! Klelk, Carbon, Nara, Miranda, Bringer, Harpy, Greek, and West!

Livia: Everyone meet my fellow students! Leona, Ruggie and Kalim! You guys know Sebek and Rollo!

Southern Tribe: *Bows their heads and kneels* We greet thee Garden Guardians guests!!

Leona: They seem to be very disciplined...

Dynia: *Stands up* We swore loyalty to Princess Livia after she helped me a short while back

Ruggie: She must've did something big, I heard the Southern Tribe are Beast Tamers that don't listen to anyone....

Ghost: She reunited me with my Mom!

Dynia: Livia came to me one day and proposed a deal, Me and my people crash a nobles party and she rescues my son

Ruggie: EH!!??

Leona: Crashed a nobles party?!

Kalim: Why crash a party?!

Livia: I was rescuing lost children and returning them home or sending them to an orphanage I had created near the Draconia Castle so I can raise them myself, the orphanage is called Sapphire Mansion, a few kids reside here now

Ruggie: Aha, can I apologize for calling you a pampered brat upon first meet?

Rollo: YOU CALLED HER WHAT??!

Sebek: Y-YOU INSULTED HER LADYSHIP!!!

Livia: Consider it forgiven Ruggie

Rollo: NO WAY! WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN!!

Sebek: HOW DARE YOU INSULT LADY LIVIA!!

Livia: When I was ten, I left with Aural to do some charity work and I met Ruggie, he said a pampered noble girl brat like me wouldn't give two cares about those below them unless I had something to gain...

Ruggie: *Laughs nervously, looking apologetic*

Rollo: I SHOULD FRY YOU OVER A PIT FLAME!

Sebek: MY LADY IS THE HUMBLEST, MOST KIND AND COMPASSIONATE LADY THERE IS!! YOU QUESTIONED HER GOOD WILL, YOU RUFFIAN!

Ruggie: I'M SORRY, OKAY! MY BAD BUT IT WAS SUS THAT SHE CAME OUT OF NOWHERE BACK THEN!

Livia: *Narrows her eyes, her eyes glowing* Enough.

Leona: *Smirks* Here comes PRINCESS Livia~

Livia: *Straightens her back, her eyes half lidded, a regal aura coming from her* We do not have time for arguing, I came here for the Southern Natives help..

Dynia: *Bows her head* We are at your disposal princess

Livia: Dynia, I want you to send half of your tribe north and the other half south, there are three other worldly beings in the garden, Gantu and two others that Rollo saw

Dynia: Very well!

Livia: *Turns to Ghost* Ghost, mind asking your spiritual friends to aid us?

Ghost: Yes! The Garden spirits say they're eager to help!

Livia: Good

Sebek: *Smiles smugly at Ruggie's surprised expression* Witness the greatness of her highness, Crowned Princess Livia Garcia Vanrouge!

Livia: *Turns away, Dynia splitting her people into two groups* Sebek, I'm gonna need your Unique Magic

Sebek: Right!

Livia: Kalim, Rollo, I need yours as well

Kalim: Happy to help!

Rollo: What's your plan?

Livia: I saw green fire balls being fired into the air this morning, I plan on bringing two of the intruders to us...

Rollo: Won't this attract Gantu as well?

Leona: No it won't.

Ruggie and Kalim: Huh?

Sebek: Gantu's main objective is Angel, he doesn't care about the rest of us because he no doubt knows that we split up

Rollo: He saw that Angel wasn't with us, and he took off a few seconds before you all arrived but he was no doubt still around

Livia: Golden and Jade didn't come, Gantu is searching for them and as much as I hate it, those two aliens that attacked the Sacred Tree need to be put first or the whole Secret Garden will be in danger

Ruggie: Danger?

Kalim: What kind of danger?

Rollo, Livia and Sebek: Poachers

[late-to-the-fandom]

An unpleasant rumour prompts a painful admission from Renathal and a promise from the Maw Walker. Rated M for non-graphic smut. Read here on Ao3 for triggers and tags

Takes place after 'Eternity', before the imprisonment of Denathrius

It was the first time since the Ember Court was instituted that the Maw Walker was not in attendance, a disappointment Renathal had accepted with what he considered supernatural good grace. What he could not forgive her were the guests she had saddled him with in her absence.

"Well, at least it's lighter up here, I suppose. But how is it still no warmer?"

The Sin'Dorei whom Renathal now knew was not a healer but a member of the Kirin Tor wrapped both gloved hands around a steaming cup of Theotar's strongest brew. He shivered elegantly, much to the appreciation of several Venthyr socialites who had taken to following the tow-headed mortal around. Renathal's legendary self-control just managed to keep his eye roll in check.

"Our Maw Walker has thoughtfully provided the Ember Court with an excessive number of candles," he told the elf patiently. "Something will inevitably catch on fire."

For some reason, the Sin'Dorei did not find this a comfort, and began expressing himself accordingly. Renathal wondered how badly it would affect their prospects against Denathrius if what caught fire this court were the elf's purple robes.

After all, more and more mortals arrived every day.  Surely, offending this one would not disrupt their entire plan? Sinfall - and the Ember Court - were stretched to capacity with a greater variety of creatures than either had ever seen. The gathered forces were preparing to move on Castle Nathria within a fortnight. Less, if the Maw Walker could wrap up her missions in the other realms.

Renathal's fingernails clicked impatiently against his teacup, and he reminded himself sternly not to feel bitter toward his champion. The Maw Walker did not belong to him exclusively, and he knew firsthand how indispensable she was to the plans of every realm. Still, he was having trouble adjusting to her increased absences. He could not stop his eyes flicking around the courtyard, compulsively seeking the purple light he knew he would not find. 

In spite of the unprecedented number of mortal beings, without the Maw Walker, the Ember Court was missing its life.

As far as Renathal was concerned, if she was not here, there was no reason to have court at all, and he wondered if enough time had yet passed to conceivably bring this session to a close. He turned with the intention of finding and asking Temel, and bumped his shins on the being behind him.

"Hey, watch it!"

"My humblest apologies," said Renathal.

He stooped to offer assistance to the creature he had knocked over but was beaten to it by a long-fingered green hand; a hand he recognised. The Maw Walker's self-appointed goblin manager and quasi-friend yanked the other creature, also a goblin, back to its feet.

"How ya doin', Ren?" cried the goblin Renathal knew - though not nearly well enough to warrant such a jarring nickname. "Meet the gang! Everyone - this here's the Venthyr Prince, Renathal."

The "gang" consisted entirely of goblins as far as Renathal could tell, their skin and hair running a spectrum of different colourful shades. He nodded politely at the scrum of small beings, and they blinked up at him in varying levels of open interest.

"This is the Prince?” cried the one Renathal had knocked over. “The guy the champion’s banging?”

Behind Renathal, the Sin'Dorei snorted unbecomingly into his cup, and several of his Venthyr admirers tutted in disapproval. The Maw Walker's goblin scowled at the catcaller and boxed its ragged ear.

"What, like it's a secret?" continued the goblin unabashed. "No one in the inn talks about anything else!”

Saving everyone involved from further embarrassment, Renathal offered the brash being a gracious smile. 

"I am aware of those particular rumours, yes, but I fear they are highly sensationalised.”

He spoke as though this was a distasteful topic he had to bear with nobly. In reality, Renathal derived a small frisson of pleasure every time he heard it mentioned. His affair with the Maw Walker was secret by necessity - just the thought of what Denathrius would do with the information made him shudder - but if their upcoming raid was successful…if the Sire was safely out of the way...

“Eh, don’t worry about it." The Maw Walker's goblin bumped Renathal's leg in another gesture of familiarity he was not sure was merited. “There's always rumours like that about our champion, wherever she goes."

Renathal nodded absently, still considering pleasant post-Nathrian possibilities. Then he frowned as the goblin's words caught up to him.

“What do you mean?”

“Huh?”

“What sort of rumours follow her around?"

“Oh, ya know."

When Renathal’s expression made it clear he did not, the goblin waved a hand as if the explanation hung obviously in the air.

"That’s she hookin’ up with this or that head of whatever city or land or order. Hazard of the trade. Spend enough time rubbin’ shoulders with world leaders, people are bound to talk.”

“So … she is typically close with the leaders of the different worlds she assists?” asked Renathal as casually as he could manage around the sudden churning in his stomach.

“Oh, for sure!” confirmed the goblin. “And here in the Shadowlands too. It‘s not just you. There’s a rumour like that in every realm. Really, it don’t mean nothin’.”

Renathal lifted his cup to his lips and downed its scalding contents in one, wishing, uncharacteristically, it contained something stronger than tea. While most of the Venthyr - and their Master himself - were considerably fond of anima wine, Renathal had never been one to overindulge in alcohol. Usually, he preferred to be in control of himself at all times. Just now, however, he thought he could use assistance in taking the edge off his growing consternation.

Obviously, Renathal knew he was not the Maw Walker's only sexual partner. But he had assumed he was her only current one.

Wracking his brain for the reason he had believed this so unassailably, Renathal was only distantly aware of the goblin's grating voice. Surely the Maw Walker had said something to allow him to form this conclusion? But ... except for a few ambiguous remarks - most made while in the throes of ecstasy - he could not remember her ever confirming this assumption explicitly.

A sudden lingering silence distracted Renathal from his unhappy reverie. The goblin was blinking expectantly, clearly anticipating some sort of response. Renathal gave a mysterious tilt of his head that might have meant anything or nothing at all, and the goblin launched into another long-winded babble that Renathal, once more, ignored.

Probably, the idea that he was special to the Maw Walker had sprung from the fact that she most certainly was to him. His mortal Nightborne lover was like nothing he had ever encountered, and their relationship - whatever it was - was wholly different than anything he had experienced before. It was comforting and titillating, safe and sensational all at once. Never had one being offered the answer to his every need, both open and unvoiced. The idea that he might not be as singular to her distressed Renathal greatly, and he ground his fangs as the goblin again butchered his name.

"So whattaya say, Ren? You in?"

"No," said Renathal shortly, without any idea what he was declining. "And I am afraid I must insist on a more respectful form of address in future. Do excuse me."

And he strode off in search of Temel, and an end to this torturous court.

The announcement that the Ember Court was abruptly adjourned was not a popular one. The courtyard was full of the disgruntled mutterings of Venthyr and mortals alike as they abandoned their cups and plates and reluctantly retreated into the depths of Sinfall. Renathal could not bring himself to care. At the moment, his mind was entirely consumed with the implications of this new and unpleasant rumour.

It bothered him. And it bothered him that it bothered him.

Because it was not true, first of all, those salacious sorts of rumours never were. Except, Renathal was forced to admit, the ones about himself and the Maw Walker. And if those rumours were accurate, who was to say others were not?

Renathal grappled with this discomfiting idea as he glided through the nearly silent courtyard, assisting the dredgers and Venthyr staff in the after-court tidying up. He had not participated in such menial chores since the early days of the rebellion, but he did not relish returning to his rooms with only his thoughts for company. Not to mention, he needed something to do with his hands besides wringing the neck of the unwitting goblin that had inspired this unnecessary stress.

Stalking between the refreshment tables, Renathal set himself to the task of gathering up the used dishes with haughty distaste. Why were most mortals such heathens? he wondered savagely, piling dirty plates onto a tray. Why did they insist on inflicting such wanton mess on the other realms of reality? And why could they not write their rumours down on paper like civilised beings, so he could find this one and burn it and end his pointless torment?

Because even if it was true, thought Renathal, carelessly dropping cups onto the tray, it did not matter. The Maw Walker was perfectly within her rights to have as many lovers as she wanted. Neither of them had drawn up formal terms for their affair, and exclusivity was not a concept in Venthyr romance, anyway. The Master had always nipped that sort of thing quickly in the bud, and Renathal was reminded why with each furious step he took.

Jealousy. It was a feeling he knew all too well. Like the ground had fallen from under him and he had nowhere safe to stand. That gut twisting, soul burning, merciless ache of realising he was not good enough to have what he wanted, that someone else had it instead. Besides curiousity, it was his greatest prevailing vice. And in spite of the Sire's extensive efforts, the Dark Prince had never learned to overcome it.

The memories of that most hated of lessons sprang unbidden into his mind, and Renathal tripped on the uneven stone, nearly dropping his overladen tray. Fortunately, a nearby dredger quickly divested him of his burden, leaving Renathal to wrap shadows hastily around himself and escape to the privacy of his rooms.

His temper had not improved hours later when the Maw Walker finally deigned to arrive.

She swept into Renathal’s chamber with an enervated groan, and a faint shimmer of her fading purple shield that, for once, failed to cheer him. Renathal refused to stand as she entered, and only hummed in response to her greeting. He knew better than to think this would go unnoticed, but he was long past pretending he was anything but morose.

Except the Maw Walker only raised an eyebrow at him as she crossed the room heavily and collapsed onto the chaise.

"What's happened now?" she asked in weary bemusement.

She was not looking at Renathal as she spoke, but down at her own hands, tugging off her heavy gloves. She stretched her fingers as if relieving a cramp, then rubbed the back of her neck and rotated it slowly to each side. Renathal watched the Maw Walker soothe her own aches in growing petulance. He wondered - with a particularly vicious pang of jealousy - if it was work that had exhausted her or someone else.

"Nothing of importance," he answered moodily.

Which was technically true. As much as the rumour plagued him, Renathal grudgingly conceded it did not quite compare to the trials burdening the rest of the Shadowlands. But his half-hearted rapprochement did not fool the Maw Walker for a moment.

"Did court not go smoothly?" she asked, with a hint of amusement. She drew one foot onto the chaise and unlaced her knotted boot. "I did warn Temel who the problem guests were, who to keep away from whom, all that, but ... I had a feeling there might be chaos."

"Then why did you not make a point of attending?" snapped Renathal.

The Maw Walker dropped her shoe.

"What happened?" she asked again, more seriously this time. She reached down to fetch her boot where it had fallen under the chaise, but at least she was looking at him now.

"It ... was nothing. Truly," admitted Renathal, inspecting the table in front of him to avoid her blank stare. He had spent the intervening hours wondering how to casually broach the subject, but had still not determined the best, most inoffensive course. "Just ... more rumours to contend with," he finally ventured.

"What? About us? I thought you would be used to those by now."

Renathal said nothing. His claw-like nails tapped a brittle rhythm against the stone tabletop. He could simply present the story as a joke, something entirely unworrisome to him. They would have a laugh about the rumour's ridiculousness, and the whole thing would be forgotten.

Unless, of course, it turned out to be true.

Renathal had not decided what it would mean for them if it was. If the Maw Walker did not consider him particularly special ... if he was simply one of many, her preferred distraction while in Revendreth ... It would hurt, that much was certain; jealousy was already eating a hole in his stomach lining at the mere possibility. But would it change anything between them? Would he want her less?

The Maw Walker sighed, and Renathal was surprised at the annoyance in the sound. He glanced up just in time to see her roll her eyes, as she dragged her other boot up the chaise.

"Could we please just ... skip this part tonight?" she asked, struggling to untangle her knotted laces. "Clearly, something is weighing on your mind that I cannot fathom, and I'd prefer to just have it out so I can deal with it and go to bed because I've been stuck in the Maw for a day at least and Bastion before that and I've the most awful headache."

Her obvious irritation, and her reluctance to acknowledge his own, sparked a bitter friction in Renathal that fanned his ire into true flame.

"So, you do not have an arrangement like this in Bastion, then?" 

"An arrangement like what?"

In spite of the venom in his voice, the Maw Walker still refused Renathal her full attention. Clearly, she considered the removal of her shoe to be the more important task.

"An arrangement like ours?" Renathal began, but was interrupted by a satisfied "Ha!" as the Maw Walker succeeded in undoing the knot and fumbled the boot from her foot. The last of Renathal's self-control splintered. "An arrangement that finds you the consort of various leaders throughout the Shadowlands?"

The Maw Walker dropped her shoe again. This time, she left it where it fell. 

"Excuse me?"

"That is the rumour I was told," Renathal explained to the table. He could not quite bring himself to look at her now he had said the words aloud.

"You were given a rumour," repeated the Maw Walker slowly and carefully, "that I am the consort of various Shadowlands leaders, and you are asking me if that is true?"

There was no inflection to her words at all. She might have been reciting out of a rather dull textbook. Renathal heard the familiar shift of the velvet chaise as the Maw Walker leaned back against it.

After a moment's pause, she said, "Well, of course," and Renathal's heart stopped beating. He lifted his gaze to hers and found her pale eyes sparkling. "It's part of my strategy for brokering peace and cooperation between the realms. Seduce a significant leader in each, ensure they properly support the Horde."

In spite of the Maw Walker's best efforts, her mask had cracked before her first sentence ended, and by the time she had finished her whole speech, laughter was bubbling around each word.

"Actually, Drakka's my favourite," she choked between giggles. "But you run a close second."

Renathal would usually go to great lengths to make the Maw Walker laugh this richly. Now, the sound stung him like a breath of icy wind. The words were obviously meant in jest, but hearing her say them out loud was tantamount to a nightmare. He endured the noise for several painful moments, until the Maw Walker caught sight of his face.

"It's a joke ... I'm joking," she said. When Renathal maintained his stony silence, she added, "Please acknowledge that you understand I am joking."

"Perhaps just this once," said Renathal stiffly, "you might answer a question directly instead of deflecting with a joke."

The Maw Walker blinked. Her face reverted to its usual cool composure. She rose from the chaise, not bothering to replace her shoes, and padded gingerly across the roughhewn stone, around the table to Renathal's chair. Without a word, she swung her leg across his and deposited herself in his lap. She took his face gingerly in both hands, finding his eyes and holding them intently.

"No, Renathal. The answer to your question is no. Ours is my only arrangement of any kind I have. In the Shadowlands or anywhere else. And actually, it's been ..." Her eyes flicked briefly upwards. "Hundreds of years since I last had an arrangement like this with anyone. No matter what rumours the Ember Court might enjoy, I ... don't do this very much."

Renathal watched her face as she spoke, the slight twist of her lips, the faint tinge in her cheeks; earnestness leaked through her flat dispassion, and he knew the Maw Walker was telling the truth. His heart resumed its affected beat, and he exhaled gently.

"Why is that?"

"Ren, I'm so busy, I barely have time for you."

This shortening of his name sounded very different from the Maw Walker than it had from her goblin acquaintance. It was familiar, comforting. It eased some of the tension from Renathal's limbs, and he relaxed more fully underneath her.

"And," she continued, resting her hands against his chest, "I have always been very ... choosy about who I spend my free time with."

Renathal's mouth twitched in the ghost of a smile. He let his hands frame the Maw Walker's waist, holding her more securely to him.

"And ... why did you choose me?" he asked archly.

"What, you want me to list everything about you I find attractive?"

"I would enjoy that very much, yes."

The Maw Walker laughed again, and this time Renathal could appreciate the sound, not to mention the way she rocked pleasantly against him. 

"I worry what it would do to your ego," she said wryly.

Renathal caught her chin in one hand and stared, a wordless request in his glowing amber gaze. The Maw Walker's smile faded as her own eyes traveled his face, studying each part of it as though admiring an intricate painting.

"I don't usually ... indulge myself like this," she said, more thoughtfully. "But ... I've never met anyone like you." She traced his jaw fondly with the back of her fingers. "You are ... an extremely rare find, Renathal, and ... very hard to resist."

Renathal could not be bothered to walk the short distance to the nearby chamber where he slept. He simply stood, clutching the Maw Walker tightly to him and melted though the shadows to his bed, anima expenditure be damned. But he did not know a magic to remove their layers as quickly, and the intensity with which he craved her skin made his fingers rough and clumsy. Fortunately, the Maw Walker was well up to the task. All sign of her earlier fatigue gone, her hands flew over his buttons, forgoing further witty flirtation in favour of stretching up to find his lips as each part of him was freed. Renathal abandoned his attempts to help for the pleasure of watching her undress him. And when she guided him back to the bed, he could summon no argument.

The Maw Walker followed him slowly, eyes drinking in the sight of his bare body as if she had never seen it before.

“What are you looking at?” he asked, his voice thick and low. Much like the Maw Walker’s own as she replied, "You." Her warm hands followed the outline of his jutting ribs, stroked longingly over his chest, his shoulders, traced the muscles of his arms, before she found her tongue again. "You are ... beautiful, Renathal."

Venthyr did not blush. They lacked the ability. So it must be the glow of lust-filled anima burning behind his eyes that made Renathal's face feel flushed and feverish. He knew he was nothing compared to Denathrius, but she was not comparing him to Denathrius. She never had. His Master had no place here. The Maw Walker had chosen him.

Her words still rang like a bell in his ears as she slid down his body, determined to leave no part of Renathal untouched or unattended. He wanted to hear her say those words again, but her mouth was engaged in a different form of praise, rendering him helpless to do anything but receive. He could feel the reverence in her lips and tongue, and he would not interrupt the Maw Walker's worship for anything in reality.

When she finally crawled back up to find Renathal's face, her eyes glittered with a dark, fervent light.

“You ... are ... perfect,” she murmured between full, heated kisses, and it was lucky Renathal had no actual need for air because he could not remember how to breathe as she mounted him.

The Maw Walker maintained a steady stream of accolades, decreasing in coherence as she increased her speed. And, for once, Renathal was more than content to lay back and allow her the lead. He let her praise wash over him, let her guide his hands where she wanted them, let her set the pace she needed as she rode him to completion. He had never imagined how good it could feel to be so thoroughly used and enjoyed. But as blissful as it was to watch the Maw Walker take what she desired from him, what only his body could give her, Renathal's own need was a furious hunger, and to sate it required domination.

When she collapsed against his chest with a final, frenetic cry, Renathal gripped her legs and rolled with her, trapping her underneath him. He angled himself until he found that deep resistance that made the Maw Walker's voice break, and lost his mind in her feel and her sound until he could think of nothing else. His lips curled as they formed her name again and again, relishing his release, and she echoed back his own name in equally radiant delight.

The last of his ill mood had evaporated when Renathal fell back against the bed. He let his eyes drift closed, exhausted and spent - more from the day's worries than anything strenuous in their sex - and was surprised to feel the Maw Walker's head settle against his chest. Her forehead rubbed rhythmically across his skin, and it was a moment before he understood she was shaking her head.

“I cannot believe you really thought I was fucking every being in the Shadowlands!"

Her words were muffled, but scandalised, and Renathal supposed she had a right. Now his tension was properly eased, it felt ridiculous to have given the rumour any credence.

"Well, to be fair," he said, wrapping his arms around her. "There are certain other rumours about you that are true."

Vibrations tingled his skin. The Maw Walker shook in his arms. She was laughing, and, at last, Renathal could join her; a self-deprecating chuckle filled with as much relief as amusement.

“I had no idea you were the jealous type,” she continued as her mirth ebbed. “Surely that's not allowed in a Harvester?"

"It is more of a vice than an actual sin, but Denathrius does ... did frown on it. Which is why these sorts of affairs are not permitted."

The answer escaped Renathal before he could think twice about it. He was slightly stunned by his own confession, and the Maw Walker, too, lifted her head in surprise.

"What do you mean?"

Renathal wet his lips, then repeated the words he knew by rote.

"Jealousy may be merely a vice, but it opens the gates to sins of a much greater degree. And relationships, particularly of an exclusive sort, are a field ripe with jealousy."

"So ... Denathrius forbid them?" the Maw Walker asked, cocking her head curiously.

"Not precisely. But he ensured they did not last long."

"How?"

Now that it was she pressing him for a history he was reluctant to relay, Renathal had a bit more sympathy for the Maw Walker's usual reticence. He wondered if she also felt this bulky obstruction in her throat, as though the painful memories were both stuck and fighting for freedom. But, if Renathal wanted more answers from her, he supposed he had to lead by example. Not to mention, he owed her an explanation for his earlier ill-temper.

"It was rare such a thing should happen, but ... if the Master thought I - or any harvester was at risk of becoming attached to another Venthyr, he made it a point to ... take that Venthyr for himself." Renathal's grip on the Maw Walker tightened convulsively. "Not exclusively, you understand. I - that is the Harvester in question would be invited to ... participate. But when someone is enjoying Denathrius, no one else can hope to compare. During the act or ... ever again."

As he spoke, long-forgotten faces swam across Renathal's field of vision. The promising Venthyr male with the beautiful smile of which he had been so desperately fond, the female in the Chalice district with the red hair and quick wit. And older souls he had not thought of in epochs, whose features he no could no longer recall. All he remembered was the way each had gazed in rapture at Denathrius' more satisfactory form, the ecstasy the Master bestowed on them that Renathal never could. He wondered once again, as he used to often, what became of them after Denathrius tired of teaching the Prince his lesson. Renathal had never asked. He was not sure he could bear the answer.

The hateful memories dissipated as though chased away by the Maw Walker squirming against him. She struggled to extricate herself from Renathal's claws and propped her head on her arm.

"Denathrius seduced anyone a Harvester cared about to keep them apart?"

"He taught a lesson in humility," Renathal clarified half-heartedly. "If a Harvester could not share willingly with the Lord of the realm, clearly they were an easy victim for jealousy and the many sins it births."

"Do you really believe that?"

The question lacked any obvious inflection, but Renathal still could not meet the Maw Walker's eye. He stared just over her shoulder.

"I never had a reason not to believe it, before Denathrius showed his true colours. Now ... I concede it may have been the Master's way of ensuring no alliances were formed that did not center around himself."

"Did he ever try that on the Accuser and the Curator?" asked the Maw Walker, a smile in her voice. And even Renathal's mouth twitched slightly at the thought.

"As far as I know, they are the only two Venthyr ever to successfully keep their love a secret. The Accuser is young, but the Curator knew of this lesson. They hid themselves from Denathrius to avoid it..."

He trailed away, unwilling to speak his sudden, disturbing thought: if Denathrius had known and simply never cared. If the only Venthyr he inflicted this lesson upon was Renathal himself.

"Did Denathrius try this on you?" asked the Maw Walker, gently combing back his hair.

"Many times," Renathal confirmed darkly. "The Master was ... tireless in his attempt to rid me of this particular vice. Though, his efforts were never successful. Recently, in the last few thousand years or so, I have taking to avoiding intimate contact of any kind. I appreciated Denathrius' attempts to reform me, but ... I did not enjoy this particular lesson."

Above him, the Maw Walker shifted, angling herself more fully over his face.

"Renathal," she said, but the way she pronounced his name was strange. Her lips twitched, and a muscle worked in her cheek, and Renathal realised with a jolt she was fighting back a smile. "I do not make promises, as a rule. They're too easy to accidentally break. But I feel very safe in promising you will never have to worry about that with me."

Renathal did his best to match her irrepressible humour.

"Oh, one never knows, Denathrius can be quite charming. If you had arrived at a different time in Revendreth's history, you might have found it hard to-"

The Maw Walker pressed two fingers to his lips, effectively ending his nervous prattle.

"Very. Safe."

She replaced her fingers with her mouth, a solemn seal on her promise, then withdrew just enough to meet Renathal's eyes as she continued, her voice now free of mirth.

"You don't have to share me with anyone, Renathal. I am just yours. For as long as you want me ... as long as I'm here ... I'm yours."

Her words echoed in Renathal's head like a song, ringing in his anima, vibrating his very bones. No one had ever belonged just to him. Every single being Renathal had ever cared for, ever known at all, had belonged to Denathrius first and foremost. 

In one frantically pulsing heartbeat, Renathal pinned the Maw Walker back against the bed. His long hair framed her startled face as he loomed over her.

"Say that again."

The command was a growl, throbbing with power, and the Maw Walker arched underneath him. She reached for his face to pull him closer to her.

"I'm yours," she whispered against his lips.

The words wrung an almost tortured moan from Renathal, and the Maw Walker whimpered as he positioned himself against her.

"Again."

"I'm yours," and it ended in a cry as he thrust forward.

"Again. Say it again," Renathal demanded, claiming her in time with her increasingly desperate replies.

"I'm yours, Renathal, I'm all yours. Just yours."

It was a sensation of power he had never before experienced. Even his medallion could not compare. To be the best one, the only one, the one chosen over everyone else ... If it truly was a sin, Renathal no longer cared. Whatever reasons his Sire had for keeping this from him were wrong. He had never been more perfectly at peace with reality and his place within it than he did now, joined to the one being that was utterly, singularly his.

Desire, unbridled and possessive, blazed a path through his veins to his core, spurring Renathal to a speed that made the Maw Walker's eyes roll back. But he would not allow her to retreat into herself, not this time. He wanted to watch her climax, wanted to go there with her. She was his, and he would have all of her.

Renathal called her name, and the urgency in it demanded the Maw Walker's full attention.

"Look at me, dearest. Look at me."

It was an unbroachable command. Her face contorted as she fought to obey, did her best to keep her eyes on his. Renathal found her hand and pressed it over her head, his fingers twining with hers; such a gentle counterpoint to the intensity with which he took her. The dueling sensations drew a glorious moan from the Maw Walker beneath him. Adoration shone in her obediently open eyes, a light so bright it burned, and Renathal had never relished any sort of pain but this he would break himself on. The evidence, unassailable, that the Maw Walker was his. Just his. No matter what happened in Nathria, Denathrius would never have her. 

“Stay here," Renathal murmured into her hair, when he had collapsed against her for the second time. "Tonight," he amended, though it was not what he meant.

The Maw Walker shifted slightly underneath him, mouth searching for his ear. And he wondered if she could somehow read his thoughts as she whispered, "I'm not going anywhere."

Read Part 18: Perfect: A Maw Walker Perspective | Visit the Masterpost

[mayra-quijotescx]

Saw that post going around on another of the three wild animal enclosures I regularly pace around in that was like "hey you know how everyone has that one short story assigned in your english class in like the tenth grade that still has you fucked up decades later"* and I immediately knee-jerk went "GOD, yes, 'The Lottery' by Shirley Jackson, what the fuck, man"

and then I stopped

and then I went "y'know what, it's been like 16 years, and thanks to how those 16 years have gone, my brain has been squeezed and twisted like playdough in the hands of an angry child more than once in the intervening time. let me make sure I am not being unfair to something I read once in my relatively halcyon youth and may not properly remember."

so I pull up the wikipedia page and yeah, no, I remembered the core details, the kids gathering stones in play, every household drawing a piece of paper, the sweetest old lady in the village eagerly grabbing a rock that she has to lift two-handed from how heavy it is, Tessie Hutchinson going screaming to her death not opposed to the system, but opposed to her household being directly affected by it, so it goes...

...but what I did not recall, or may indeed have not learned, was that when The New Yorker published this in 1948, readers got so fucking outraged by it that they pulled subscriptions and collectively hurled reams of letters in a volume previously unheard of to the magazine, which then forwarded them to Jackson. The letters ranged in tone from dismissive to threatening, with many people demanding Jackson explain herself and her story, to the tune of 10-12 letters per day for the rest of the summer. Her own mother scolded her in one such letter for not writing something cheerful instead. Several people wrote in thinking it was a true story and requesting details on where they could go to watch one.

Kinda feels ironic, IDK.

*****

*OP, if this somehow makes it to you, please accept my humblest apologies for mangling your post, like so many innocent fingers in the machinery that led to the company paying off the family in "The Monkey's Paw", which my school read in the eighth grade for some reason, what the fuck, what the fuck

[masterofd1saster]

CJ free speech - fantastic essay by Matt Taibbi

is one of the best essays I've ever seen on free speech.

Saying no is very American. From “Don’t Tread on Me!” to “Nuts” to “You Cannot Be Serious!,” defiance is in our DNA. Now disagreement is seen as a threat, and according to John Kerry, must be “hammered out of existence.” The former presidential candidate just complained at a World Economic Forum meeting that “it’s really hard to govern” and “our First Amendment stands as a major block” to the important work of hammering out unhealthy choices. In the open he said this! I was telling Tim Pool about this backstage, and he asked, “Was black ooze coming out of his mouth?” Kerry added that it’s “really hard to build consensus,” and told forum members they need to “win the right to govern” and “be free to implement change.” What do they need to be free of? The First Amendment, yes, but more importantly: us. Complainers. That’s our shared experience. We are obstacles to consensus.

***

Let me pause to say something about America’s current intellectual class, from which the “anti-disinformation” complex comes. By the way: There are no working-class censors, poor censors, hungry censors. The dirty secret of “content moderation” everywhere is that it’s a tiny sliver of the educated rich correcting everyone else. It’s telling people what fork to use, but you can get a degree in it. America has the most useless aristocrats in history. Even the French dandies marched to the razor by the Jacobins were towering specimens of humanity compared to the Michael Haydens, John Brennans, James Clappers, Mike McFauls, and Rick Stengels who make up America’s self-appointed behavior police. In prerevolutionary France, even the most drunken, depraved, debauched libertine had to be prepared to back up an insolent act with a sword duel to the death. Our aristocrats pee themselves at the sight of mean tweets. They have no honor, no belief, no poetry, art, or humor, no patriotism, no loyalty, no dreams, and no accomplishments. They’re simultaneously illiterate and pretentious, which is very hard to pull off.

***

Thomas Paine’s central message was that the humblest farmer was a towering moral giant compared to the invertebrate scum who wore crowns and lived in British castles. Common Sense told us to stand up straight. Never bow, especially not to a politician, because as Paine explained—I want you to think of Kerry and Hayden and Cheney here—“Men who look upon themselves as born to reign, and others to obey. . . are frequently the most ignorant and unfit of any throughout the dominions.” Oscar Wilde noted ours was the only country in the world where being a kook was respectable. Every other country shunned the tinkerer or mad inventor and cheerfully donated them to us, turbocharging our American experiment. We welcomed crazy, and the world has light bulbs, the telephone, movies, airplanes, submarines, the internet, false teeth, the Colt .45, rock and roll, hip-hop, and monster dunks as a result. 

***

To all those snoops and nosy parkers sitting in their Homeland Security–funded “Centers of Excellence,” telling us day after day we must think as they say and vote as they say or else we’re traitorous Putin-loving fascists and enablers of “dangerous” disinformation: Motherfucker, I’m an American. That shit does not work on me. And how can you impugn my patriotism, when you’re sitting in Klaus Schwab’s lap, apologizing for the First Amendment to a crowd of Europeans? Look in the mirror.  I’m not the problem. We’re not the problem. You’re the problem.  You suck. Thank you.

Get on your feet and give Matt a standing ovation.

[myastrouniverse]

August/2024🌒♋️The ROOT of Harmony is Humbleness🌱+💖=🌻

♀️ 🔺 ♇︎ The Celtic Order of The Golden Dawn is truly a fascinating esoteric system. The members are quite a nefarious group. I found many of the tools in that order to be extremely effective in grounding energies and communicating with the nature realms. I did not accept or complete any initiations in that order. I made the choice because I understood the path. Had I completed those initiations I would have gone to the fairy realms. No one comes back from the realms of fae if you accept the invitation. I’m sure it might be possible to negotiate with them if you are very polite. You must show the fae respect, they are older than time itself. They always were and always will be.

🌞 Λ ☊ I want to forgive, if some of you narcissistic psychopaths have the courage to not only apologize, but to explain your motives and what you have learned from your destructive behaviors. Do any of you psycho fucks understand that VIOLENCE against another human being, isn’t going to make YOUR life better? Why not FOCUS ON YOUR OWN FUCKING LIFE, YOU FUCKING APE CUNTS. Then I deserve compensation, for the suffering I have endured for DECADES, over the egos of pathetic fucking MONSTERS.

🌒 < 🎸 You may only go as high as you can go low. The problem with most of the human population, is that they confuse humble with excessive.

🌒 <♅︎ Low, means to have CONTROL over your ego, so you can HUMBLE YOURSELF; with the humblest of creatures. The dark ones are supposed to be GUARDIANS.

🌒🔺 ♄︎ Unfortunately some of you believe ‘low’ is a person bound to addictions and codependencies. This person has NO CONTROL over their EGO because they are constantly getting HIGH. People who are always ‘positive’ maybe blinding themselves with their own light (Ego.) and they must humble themselves if they want to understand their surroundings. The point of LIFE is to LEARN something NEW which stimulates growth and awareness.

🌒 < 🦺 It’s EXTREMELY IMPORTANT to maintain and align your chakras. The positive force of being centered within your own body, repels negative attachments. Work on root and move up. Try working on one chakra over and over again, that you feel most disconnected to. Personally, I need lots of heart chakra work.

🌒 < 🌞 I believe we ALL have the ability to manifest a much more peaceful and abundant future for EVERYONE. If you are nice me, I can be nice to you. If you want to be friends with me, I will be friends with you. If you show me love, we could be lovers.

🌒▪️🚑 Why would I want to be in a relationship with someone who doesn’t respect me? I don’t know why you keep expecting me to lose my human form to a quantum created false dimension. Again, I am so tired of being disrespected by people who refuse to let go of their own ego issues.

Tears for Fears - Sowing The Seeds of Love

Lovers" from "Latvian Tarot" by Arthur Berzinsh

Don’t disrespect me with YOUR APE CUNT and HER PSYCHO KIDS.

I want NOTHING to do with the filth of you or your fucking past.

You made it perfectly clear, you are an ape cunt fucker.

Please continue…

Stay the fuck away from me with your psycho 🤡💩

I don’t nag people. I respect other people’s space.

Try treating me in the same manner.

I absolutely will not tolerate VERBAL ABUSE from fuckheads who TORTURED ME over their own fucktarded imagination land🌈🤡💩