#she gives a different answer to different people

[lingthusiasm]

101 places to get enthusiastic about linguistics

In honour of Lingthusiasm's 100th episodiversary, we've compiled this list of 101 public-facing places where linguists and linguistics nerds hang out and learn things! 

17 podcasts about linguistics

Lingthusiasm — A podcast that's enthusiastic about linguistics! 

The Vocal Fries — Language discrimination and how to fight it

The History of English — From Proto-Indo-European to Shakespeare in 180 episodes (and still running!)

A Language I Love Is — Guests (some linguists, some not) talk about languages they love and why

En Clair — Forensic linguistics and literary detection

Because Language — New guests every episode discuss their linguistic interests

The Allusionist — Stories about language and the people who use it 

Subtitle — A podcast about languages and the people who speak them

Field Notes — Five seasons on linguistic fieldwork 

Tomayto Tomahto — Language meets cog sci, politics, history, law, anthropology, and more

Word of Mouth — A long-running and wide-ranging linguistics program on BBC 4.

Words Unravelled - A new and very well edited etymology podcast with popular creators RobWords and Jess Zafarris

Something Rhymes with Purple — Learn the background behind another word or phrase each episode

Lexitecture — A classic etymology podcast with a huge back catalogue

A Way with Words — A "lively and upbeat" public radio call-in show about language and culture

Språket — A radio program in Swedish answering listener questions about language. We don't speak Swedish, but this was the most-mentioned non-English content in our listener survey!

Living Voices — A podcast in Spanish about endangered languages of the Amazon

12 nonfiction books about linguistics

Because Internet: Understanding the New Rules of Language by Gretchen McCulloch (Amazon; Bookshop) — A linguist shows how the internet is transforming the way we communicate

How Language Works: How Babies Babble, Words Change Meaning and Languages Live or Die (Amazon; Bookshop) by David Crystal — A journey through the different subsystems of language 

That's Not What I Meant!: How Conversational Style Makes or Breaks Relationships by  Deborah Tannen (Amazon; Bookshop) — A pioneering researcher on conversations gives advice on how they can go wrong

Memory Speaks: On Losing and Reclaiming Language and Self by Julie Sedivy (Amazon; Bookshop) — Scientific and personal reflections on nostalgia, forgetting, and language loss

The Art of Language Invention: From Horse-Lords to Dark Elves to Sand Worms, the Words Behind World-Building by David J Peterson (Amazon; Bookshop) — an accessible guide to making your own conlang 

Highly Irregular: Why Tough, Through, and Dough Don't Rhyme—And Other Oddities of the English Language by Arika Okrent (Amazon; Bookshop) — The history behind English's many oddities

Wordslut: A Feminist Guide to Taking Back the English Language by Amanda Montell (Amazon; Bookshop) — A well-researched pushback on sexist language ideology

Word by Word: The Secret Life of Dictionaries by Kory Stamper (Amazon; Bookshop) — A lifelong lexicographer discusses the job and the things she's learned along the way 

Lingo: Around Europe in Sixty Languages by Gaston Dorren (Amazon; Bookshop) — A quick, funny tour of the quirks of 60 European languages

Bina: First Nations Languages, Old and New by Felicity Meakins, Gari Tudor-Smith, and Paul Williams (Amazon; Bookshop) — The story of Australian indigenous languages' resistance and survival

Says Who?: A Kinder, Funner Usage Guide for Everyone Who Cares About Words by Anne Curzan (Amazon; Bookshop) — A writers' style and grammar guide focused on real usage, not made-up rules

The Language Lover's Puzzle Book: A World Tour of Languages and Alphabets in 100 Amazing Puzzles by Alex Bellos (Amazon; Bookshop) — Solve puzzles about writing, grammar, and meaning drawn from real and fictional languages

Poems from the Edge of Extinction: An Anthology of Poetry in Endangered Languages (Amazon; Bookshop) — An anthology of poems in endangered languages, with commentary

6 linguistically-inspired novels

Babel: Or the Necessity of Violence: An Arcane History of the Oxford Translators' Revolution by R.F. Kuang (Amazon; Bookshop) — Imagine a world where linguistics was as vital — and as ethically compromised — as engineering is in ours

True Biz by Sara Nović (Amazon; Bookshop) — Love, friendship, and struggle at a residential high school for the Deaf

Ella Minnow Pea: A Novel in Letters by by Mark Dunn (Amazon; Bookshop) — "A progressively lipogrammatic epistolary fable" full of wordplay and weirdness

Semiosis by Sue Burke (Amazon; Bookshop) — Human space colonists communicate with sentient plants

Translation State by Ann Leckie (Amazon; Bookshop) — What does life look like for a perfectly genetically engineered alien–human translator? (Spoiler: weird, that's what.)

Stories of your Life and Others by Ted Chiang (Amazon; Bookshop) — Includes the long short story that became Arrival, plus other reflections on humanity and change

13 linguistics youtube channels

Crash Course Linguistics — A whole linguistics course in 16 videos

Tom Scott's Language Files — Pithy language facts explained quickly and clearly

NativLang — Language reconstruction and the history of writing

Geoff Lindsay — Facts (and some scholarly opinions) about regional English pronunciation

The Ling Space — An educational channel all about linguistics

langfocus — A language factoid channel that digs deeper than many

K Klein — Language quirks, spelling reform, and a little conlanging

biblaridion — Teaching about conlanging and worldbuilding, with lots of linguistics along the way

RobWords — "A channel for lovers and learners of English"

Otherwords — "the fascinating, thought-provoking, and funny stories behind the words and sounds we take for granted"

LingoLizard — Widely spoken languages and their quirks, comparisons, and history

linguriosa — Spanish linguistics (in Spanish), including learning tips and linguistic history

human1011 — Quick accessible facts about linguistics (and sometimes other things) 

Simon Roper — Language evolution and historical English pronunciation

10 shortform video channels about linguistics (tiktok/reels)

etymologynerd — Internet speak, etymologies and more! (reels)

linguisticdiscovery — Writing systems, language families, and more (reels)

jesszafaris — Fun facts about words, etymologies, and more (reels)

cmfvoices — An audiobook director talks about the linguistics of voice acting (eels)

mixedlinguist — A linguistics professor comments on the language of place, identity, politics, technology, and more (reels)

landontalks — Linguistic quirks of the US South (reels)

sunnmcheaux — Language and culture from Harvard's first and only professor of Gullah (reels)

dexter.mp4 — Talks about many branches of science, but loves linguistics enough to have a linguisticsy tattoo (reels)

danniesbrain — Linguistics and psychology from a researcher who studies both (reels)

wordsatwork — Quick facts on languages, families, and linguistic concepts (reels)

the_language — The Ojibwe language — plus food, dancing, and more

[biancadoes1]

FAVE ANON HERE 🩶

I would like to start by saying how amazing it was to see Lukey Newts out and about last night looking 🔥 and rocking those emotional support curls 🥵. To be honest it was more than enough to make me look past anything else. Oh the curls 😍

But I do know that last night was a shock to the system for many. We went from not seeing Luke and Antonia interact with each other at all since the end of July to ALOT last night. They were popping everywhere. I saw so many extreme reactions and to be honest, we gotta be better guys. This is why I think it’s important to take a step back and look at everything as a big picture and use a few different lenses I listed below (and make sure you stick around for #4 because it’s the most important):

1. Seeing them last night doesnt negate everything that happened the last 7 months. Where have they been? Why hasn’t she posted him? Why did they spend the holidays apart? Why did he clean his SEO? So many questions with answers that don’t add up to a serious relationship.

2. This was not a relationship hard launch. If there was a launch plan, I 100% believe he would’ve “soft launched” in a way with pap pics getting caught on a date and in a natural setting. Or even something subtle on social media. They know how the fans perceive her and their “relationship” and they would not have just dropped a bombshell on eveyone. To top it off, out of all his SM posts today - none of them include any sight or mention of her. So what was the point of HL-ing?

3. I wanna start this one by saying I don’t think anyone in this situation should receive any hate for how we decided to perceive and accept things BUT I’m ngl I’m gonna have a lot of thoughts if L&A are together and those thoughts aren’t just aimed at Luke. Everyone has been complicit in the narrative that brought us here - Luke, Nic, Shondaland, Ryan, etc. They know what discussed online and they knew back in August how people were interpreting things so they’ve had months to set the record straight and launch any relationships. Polin is the B-ton moneymaker and that’s because of the fans. I refuse to believe all these people would be complicit in stringing along and alienating the fans. (And for the record - no matter how this plays out I will remain a fan of both because I love them both and I love Polin.)

4. MOST IMPORTANTLY:

Why are we so quick to jump to this relationship but we denounce Nic and Jake? You can say because Jake is gay (yes I believe this) but truly we have NO PROOF of that. He hasn’t said it. She hasn’t said it. We’re going fully off context clues. For all we know he could be bi, pan, or as straight as they come and they could be in the most blissfully happy relationship in the world. (Not true IMO but my point is that we don’t know anything beyond what is shown to us.) So let’s review the following:

Nic & Jake: have been to non professional events together and posted online with friends, have posted each other on Instagram, comment on each others posts, attend professional events together, and have been papped on “dates”

Luke & Antonia: caught kissing over a year ago, attended some professional events together, haven’t been seen together in 7 months, and like all insta posts in a suspiciously fast and consistent manner.

If you were to ask me I’d say Nic and Jake are the ones in a real relationship (if i knew nothing about the outside factors). So if we are willing to sit here and give Nic and Jake the benefit of the doubt and say it’s not real and wait it out then we should be able to do the same now with Luke and Antonia until we get more concrete evidence. Because truly last night was nothing different than what has been presented to us by Nic and Jake. The only difference is the internalized feelings and people have surrounding Antonia and her existence.

I stand by what I’ve always said - until Nic or Luke (or an official source on their behalf) say “boyfriend” or “girlfriend,” those terms do not apply.

What this fandom has taught me is that if I’m ever wrongfully accused of a crime, I do not want 95% of you on my jury because you all jump to conclusions so fast and don’t do any critical thinking.

Next time something happens and you find yourself about to spiral, take a tip from a wise friend of mine and give it 24 hours because I PROMISE you things will become clearer. 😉

And also congrats to Bridgerton S3 for being the Top Streamed Show of 2024. Nic and Luke did that and I’m so proud. 💛

And also - Luke and those curls man. 🥵🥵🥵

Fave anon has blessed us with her words once more.

Please take note.

[ch0llies]

REVIVAL | CHRISTOPHER STURNIOLO.

A story in which a messy breakup lands you in your best friend's Boston apartment a year after high school, and you find yourself face-to-face again with Christopher Sturniolo-your first love. As your paths cross again, the bitterness of how you left him still lingers, fueling every hated glance. But with your best friend dating his brother, you know is there's no escaping Chris- or the tension that refuses to die. Is this revival destined to reignite, or will it crumble under the weight of your unresolved past?

story warning: this story includes very toxic and abusive behavior. none of the actions or words in this series are justified and are written exclusively for entertainment purposes only. under no circumstances are they personally associated with chris other than just using him as the main character. read at your own discretion. now that that is cleared up, there will be filthy smut, angst, swearing, underage drinking, underage drug use, abusive behavior, morally skewed choices, toxic relationships, and overall mature themes. if any of this upsets you... don't read!

word count: 6k

CHAPTER SEVEN:

Chris drove like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t just almost killed you both. Like he hadn’t just kissed you while you were still crying. Like he hadn’t just decided for you that you were going to his parents’ house and pretending to be his girlfriend.

The silence was deafening, but you couldn’t speak. You were still too shaken, too rattled, too fucking confused to process any of it.

Chris, on the other hand, was completely normal. One hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on your thigh, his grip firm but not forceful- like it belonged there. Like you belonged to him.

His knuckles were still bleeding from when he hit the steering wheel, the red smeared across his fingers, staining his skin. But he didn’t even seem to notice.

Your phone kept buzzing in your lap, Ava’s name lighting up the screen over and over again. You already knew what she was saying. Where the fuck are you? Why aren’t you answering? I’m about to pull up and shoot this motherfucker if you don’t text me back.

Your hands were shaking as you turned off your location for Ava and Matt.

Chris glanced at you briefly but didn’t say anything.

You swallowed hard, your voice barely steady. “Give me your phone.”

Chris’s fingers flexed slightly on your thigh before he lifted his hand and handed it over without hesitation.

Your heart pounded as you tried his old password- the one from high school. The one he had set up using number coordinates with your name.

Your fingers trembled as you typed it in.

It still worked.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you turned to look at him, but he didn’t meet your eyes.

He just kept driving.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and went straight into his settings, turning off location sharing for Matt, Nick, and anyone else who could track him down. You were about to lock the phone when something caught your eye- his messages.

There were so many.

And not just casual conversations. Not just the group chat with his brothers.

Girls.

Everywhere.

You scrolled, your stomach twisting as you opened his texts, then his DMs.

Sexting.

Nudes.

Flirty voice notes.

Your heart started pounding for a completely different reason now, your fingers gripping the phone tighter.

Chris glanced over, immediately sensing the shift in your energy. “What?”

You turned the phone toward him, your grip like iron. “Who the fuck are these sluts?”

His jaw ticked, and before you could react, he reached over to snatch the phone out of your hands.

But you were quicker. You yanked it away, holding it close to your chest. “No.” Your voice came out low and sharp. “Who are these people, Chris?”

Chris let out a humorless laugh, gripping the wheel tighter. “Don’t fucking play with me,” he warned, his voice dark. “Give me the phone.”

You ignored him, scrolling further. The messages just kept coming. So many of them. So many girls. Some messages from today.

Your stomach burned.

“You think I’m just gonna let this slide?” you said, your voice rising. “You have a fucking harem in your DMs, but I can’t even kiss someone at a party without you throwing a fucking fit?”

Chris clenched his jaw. “Y/N-”

You cut him off, reading one of his messages out loud.

“Since you want it so bad, why don’t you come and get it?” Your voice was dripping with venom. “Wow, Chris. That’s real fucking sweet. That to one of your little whores?”

Chris snapped.

His hand shot out, grabbing your wrist in a bruising grip, his other hand still gripping the wheel.

“Shut the fuck up.” His voice was dangerously low, his knuckles white from how hard he was holding onto the steering wheel now.

“Why?” you seethed, yanking your wrist back. “You can dish it, but you can’t take it? What’s wrong, Chris? You don’t like the double standard when I’m the one pointing it out?”

Chris growled, actually growled, and you could see the rage bubbling in his chest, his breathing ragged, his control slipping.

The car sped up.

Your heart lurched.

“Chris,” you said sharply. “Slow the fuck down.”

But he didn’t.

He pressed harder on the gas, his fingers gripping the wheel so tight his already-bleeding knuckles looked worse now.

“You want to talk about double standards, Y/N?” he said, his voice eerily calm despite how fast he was going. “How about the fact that you fucked off for years, ghosted me like I was nothing, and then come back acting like you’re the one with a right to be mad?”

You shook with rage. “I ALREADY APOLOGIZED FOR THAT!”

Chris laughed. “And you think that fucking fixes it?”

The car swerved, and you grabbed the dashboard, your stomach twisting in fear.

“Chris, fucking stop-”

He yanked the wheel, narrowly dodging a parked car. “Nah, let’s talk, sweetheart,” he said darkly. “Let’s fucking talk.”

“Chris, slow the fuck down!” you shouted, gripping the side of your seat as he cut through a red light, barely missing a car that honked violently behind you. Your heart pounded as he weaved recklessly through Boston traffic, taking sharp turns, slipping through lanes, barely braking in time to avoid slamming into the cars ahead.

He let out a humorless chuckle, his grip on the wheel tight as hell, his already-bleeding knuckles looking even worse. “Nah,” he said, voice smooth but full of rage. “You wanted to talk. So what the fuck do you wanna say?”

He gunned it, swerving past a truck, slipping into the narrowest opening between two cars like he was playing a video game, the tires screeching as he sped onto the highway toward Somerville.

Your stomach twisted with panic, and for a second, real fear overtook your anger. “Chris, fucking stop! You’re gonna get us killed!”

But he wasn’t listening.

He kept driving, too fast, too reckless, dodging in and out of traffic, cutting people off without a second thought. A car swerved out of the way, blaring its horn, and Chris barely reacted.

Something snapped inside you.

Fine.

Fuck it.

If he wanted to drive like a maniac, he was gonna fucking deal with the consequences.

Before he could react, you unbuckled your seatbelt, your fingers gripping the door handle. You rolled down the window and, without hesitation, leaned halfway out of the car, your upper body hanging out into the rushing wind.

“HEY, WHAT THE FUCK?!” Chris roared, reaching for you.

You turned your head, your hair whipping around your face, your voice dripping with venom. “You wanna drive like this?! Then you’ll carry the fucking responsibility when you KILL ME, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!”

Chris yanked you back into the car so fast you barely registered the motion before you were slammed back into your seat. His hand gripped your wrist bruisingly tight, his other hand gripping the wheel as he finally started to slow down, breathing ragged, jaw clenched so tight you thought his teeth might crack.

His eyes flashed wildly between the road and you. “Put your fucking seatbelt back on. Now.”

You shook your head, yanking at his grip. “Tell me who they are first.”

His jaw ticked. “Y/N, put the fucking seatbelt on. I’m not playing with you.”

You reached for the window again.

“FINE!” he snapped, yanking the wheel, pulling onto the shoulder so fast the car jerked violently. His hands shook as he slammed the car into park, the engine humming loudly between you both.

His chest heaved, his breath sharp, his fucking eyes burning into yours. “They’re just- ” He exhaled sharply, running a bloody hand through his hair. “They’re just random girls in my DMs. Some I met at parties. Some are fans. A few models who saw our videos and wanted me. That what you wanna hear?”

You seethed, rage pulsing through you like a heartbeat. Your fists trembled, your whole body heating with something you refused to name.

“FUCK YOU.”

Chris’s lips parted, his smirk flickering between real amusement and pure rage. “Excuse me?”

You laughed- a dark, humorless laugh- as you turned your body toward him. “That’s not fair,” you spat. “That’s so not fucking fair, Chris. You can have all these bitches slobbering over you, but the second I even breathe near another guy, you lose your fucking mind?”

Chris didn’t blink, didn’t move.

Just watched you.

Waiting.

Daring.

“You know what?” you said, your voice steady, your expression set. “Fuck it. You wanna act like this? Then let’s play your fucking game.”

Chris’s head tilted slightly, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. “What game?”

You smirked, venom in your eyes, in your tone, in your fucking bones.

“Tomorrow, I’m going to a frat party,” you said slowly, your voice like ice. “And I’m gonna fuck every single guy in the frat house. And while they’re all cumming on me, I’m gonna record it and send it to you. Then I’ll see how you feel, you piece of shit.”

The second the words left your mouth, Chris lunged.

His hand flew to your jaw, gripping it hard, forcing your face toward him. His breath was ragged, his eyes wild, his lips parted like he wanted to say something- but couldn’t.

For a split second, the entire world stilled.

Then, in a voice so low and dangerous it sent a shiver down your spine, Chris muttered:

“I fucking dare you.”

Chris’s grip on your jaw tightened, his fingers pressing into your skin as he studied you, his blue eyes flicking between yours, searching, reading you. You didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. His anger was palpable, vibrating through every inch of his body, but it wasn’t just anger- it was something deeper, something unspoken.

For a full minute, he just held you there, his thumb brushing against the curve of your cheek, his fingers gripping your chin, forcing you to look at him like he was daring you to fight back.

Then, his lips parted, and his voice came out low, smooth, almost hypnotic.

“You look so pretty like this,” he murmured, his grip shifting just slightly, his thumb tracing over your lower lip. “So obedient. When you’re not running that fucking mouth of yours.”

A shudder ran down your spine.

Chris smirked, his gaze roaming over your face, soaking in the way you were still caught in his hold, unable to do anything but breathe him in. “No one else deserves to see you like this.”

His words sent a slow, sick twist through your stomach, and something in you snapped back into reality.

“And you do?” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

Chris’s smirk didn’t falter. He just tilted his head, his thumb pressing against your lip again. Then, in a voice so quiet it sent a pulse of heat through your chest, he said,

“I’ve waited my whole life for you.”

Your breath hitched, your whole body freezing.

His eyes darkened. “I deserve you more than anyone.”

Your mouth opened- then closed.

For the first time in this entire fucking war between you, he stunned you into silence.

Chris took in the way you looked at him- like you wanted to argue but couldn’t- and then, just as smoothly as he’d stopped the car, he let go of your face and shifted back into drive, pulling back onto the road.

The rest of the ride was silent.

You stared out the window, trying to process everything, trying to breathe normally again, but your pulse was still erratic, your skin burning where his hands had been.

The houses and streetlights blurred past as Chris drove, calmly now, as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t just said the most insane fucking thing to you.

But then your eyes flicked toward his hands, still gripping the wheel- and you noticed his knuckles.

Still bleeding.

Still raw.

Still split from when he hit the steering wheel.

Your stomach twisted.

You clenched your jaw, forcing yourself to ignore it, to not care, but before you could stop yourself, your hands moved on their own.

You reached into your glovebox, pulled out the small first-aid kit you kept there, and grabbed the antiseptic wipes and bandages.

Chris didn’t say anything as you turned toward him, grabbing his wrist roughly. He didn’t look at you. Didn’t protest.

He just let you do it.

You unwrapped the wipe and ran it over his knuckles, watching as the blood smeared before fading into the white cloth. His fingers twitched slightly under your touch, but he still didn’t say a word.

You didn’t, either.

Once the blood was cleaned, you carefully placed a bandage over the deepest cut, pressing down to make sure it stuck.

Chris let out a slow breath.

Then, before you could pull away, his hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around your wrist.

Your eyes snapped up to his face, your lips parting slightly, but before you could react, he pulled your hand to his mouth and pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to your knuckles.

The warmth of his lips sent a shiver through you.

Your breath caught in your throat.

And then, just as quickly, he let go- his hands moving back to the wheel, his eyes still trained on the road like nothing had happened.

Like he hadn’t just done that.

Like he wasn’t breaking you apart piece by fucking piece.

The car rolled to a slow stop in front of the familiar house, the driveway illuminated by the dim streetlights. Your breath was still unsteady, your body still trembling from the insanity of the last thirty minutes.

Chris shifted into park, but before you could even process that you had arrived, his hand shot out again, wrapping around the back of your head and pulling you toward him.

You gasped slightly, but he wasn’t kissing you. His fingers cupped your face, tilting it toward the dim light inside the car as his thumbs brushed under your eyes, wiping at the smudged mascara streaks that had run down your cheeks from the wind, from the tears, from him.

His touch was unnervingly gentle- almost careful, as if he were fixing something he cared about. His fingers traced your jaw, smoothing back the strands of hair that had gotten tangled from when you’d stuck your head out the window like a maniac.

You didn’t speak. You didn’t move.

You just let him do it.

Because you were so fucking tired.

Once he was satisfied with how you looked, he pulled his visor down, flipping open the mirror and adjusting his own hair, fixing the mess he’d made when he ran his bloody fingers through it earlier.

Then, he snapped the visor shut, exhaled, and turned back to you.

“You ready, my love?”

Your entire body flinched at the name, your breath hitching as your chest tightened painfully.

Chris noticed.

But he didn’t say anything about it. He just smirked faintly, reached for the door handle, and stepped out of the car like nothing had happened.

You sat there, stunned, frozen, unable to move as he started walking toward the house.

This was too much. This was whiplash.

This was fucking insane.

Chris made it halfway to the front steps before realizing you hadn’t gotten out yet. He stopped, turned back, and tilted his head, waiting.

Then, without a word, he lifted his fingers and motioned you over.

And like a fucking dog, you reached for the door handle, opened it, and stepped out, your legs shaky, your stomach twisting as you followed him up the steps.

He held the door open for you as you stepped inside, the warm scent of home-cooked meals and lavender candles immediately filling your senses, so painfully familiar it nearly made you cry.

Chris shut the door behind you, then, like nothing had happened, he called out, his voice light, normal, friendly.

“Hey, Mom!”

You blinked at him, your throat closing up.

His voice wasn’t sharp. Wasn’t mocking. Wasn’t filled with venom or manipulation or anything he usually used against you.

It was soft. It was the voice he used before- before everything, before the war between you, before the push and pull and chaos.

You nearly fucking cried right then and there.

Chris glanced at you and noticed the way your eyes immediately glossed over, and before you could even react, he reached out and wiped them again, his fingers brushing under your eyes, his touch still gentle- but this time, his voice was not.

“You better cut that shit out now,” he muttered under his breath, his tone a warning, his fingers digging into your jaw for a split second before he let go and stepped back.

Footsteps from upstairs interrupted your haze, and then-

“Hello, Chrissy!” Mary Lou’s voice was light, warm, so unbelievably kind it made you feel like you didn’t deserve to be standing here. The way she could recognize him simply from his voice made you heart hurt, because you knew that you could too. She turned the corner and nearly gasped when she saw you standing beside him.

“Y/N!” she beamed, her hands clasping together in pure joy. “How are you? It’s been so long!”

You forced a smile, nodding slightly. “Hi, Mary Lou. I- I’m good. How are you?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” she said, coming closer and reaching for your hands, holding them in hers. “Better now that you’re here! It has been years! I always wondered if you’d ever come back into our lives! We’ve all missed you!”

You swallowed thickly, unsure of what to say, your stomach twisting violently.

And then- Chris, smooth as ever, dropped the bomb.

“Yeah,” he said, wrapping an arm casually around your waist, pulling you flush against his side like this was normal. “We’ve actually been back together for a little while now.”

Your entire body went rigid.

Mary Lou gasped, genuinely elated, her eyes shining as she looked between you both. “Oh my goodness! Finally! I always thought it would be in high school, but-” She let out a soft laugh. “Good things take time, huh?”

You couldn’t breathe.

Chris’s fingers tightened slightly on your waist, a silent reminder, a command to play along.

Your mouth felt dry, your chest was aching, but somehow, you found the strength to nod.

“Yeah,” you murmured, forcing another smile. “Good things take time.”

Chris smirked, looking down at you like he knew he had you in checkmate.

“Yeah,” he echoed smoothly, “we’ve been happier than ever.”

And as Mary Lou clasped her hands in delight, gushing about how excited she was, how she knew this would happen eventually- you realized just how deep you had fallen into Chris’s world.

And you weren’t sure you were ever getting out.

The rest of the night was exhausting.

Chris played his role perfectly- so well that for a few fleeting moments, you almost believed it too.

Mary Lou had gushed over you, talking a mile a minute about how happy she was that you and Chris had finally figured things out, how she always knew you two would end up together. She asked about your life, what you’d been up to, what you planned on doing next, all while Chris sat beside you with his arm firmly around your waist, his thumb brushing absentmindedly against your hip as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

And then Jimmy came downstairs, stretching and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The moment he saw you, he perked up, his face lighting with recognition.

“No way,” he said, shaking his head with a grin. “Y/N L/N in my house again? Hell must’ve frozen over.”

Chris laughed, squeezing your side. “Told you she’d come back eventually, Dad.”

You forced a smile, your stomach twisting as Jimmy pulled you into a quick hug, patting your back in that friendly, fatherly way that almost made you feel normal.

“Damn, kid,” Jimmy said, stepping back and shaking his head. “It’s been what, almost two years? Thought we’d lost you for good.”

Chris looked down at you, his lips tugging into a small, knowing smirk. “She found her way back.”

You wanted to scream.

Every time you tried to hold yourself together, Chris would touch you, his hands grazing over your arms, his fingers lacing with yours, his lips brushing against your hair whenever Mary Lou or Jimmy weren’t looking. And worse- his voice. The way he spoke to you, about you, was so loving, so gentle, so full of warmth that it felt real.

You almost believed it.

Almost.

But then you’d catch the glint in his eye, the one that told you he knew exactly what he was doing. The one that reminded you that this was all for his entertainment.

And you hated how easy it was for him.

After what felt like an eternity, Chris finally squeezed your hand and gave his mom a sheepish smile. “As much as we’d love to stay, I gotta drive my lady home. Her and Ava live together in an apartment in Boston, actually! I’m not sure if Matt has mentioned it but…” he said smoothly. “We used her car, so we can’t stay overnight.”

Mary Lou’s face fell. “Oh, but I was hoping we could all have breakfast in the morning! But tell Ava I said hi and that I miss her!”

Chris chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your temple- so convincing it made your heart clench. “Another time, I promise.”

Mary Lou sighed but nodded, pulling you into another hug. “You better come back, Y/N. Don’t let this one keep you all to himself.”

You gave a weak laugh, nodding. “Of course.”

Jimmy clapped Chris on the back, giving him a knowing look. “Don’t fuck this up,” he said gruffly, his eyes flicking to you. “She’s a keeper.”

Chris smirked. “I wouldn't dream of it.”

And just like that, you were back in the car. You didn’t breathe. You didn’t move.

You just sat there, your hands curled into fists on your lap, your body stiff as Chris started the car. He threw his arm over the passenger seat as checked for people before reversing, his fingers grazing the headrest behind you, the scent of his cologne thick in the air.

A sob ripped out of your throat so suddenly that you barely registered the sound of it. Your hands flew to your face, your body curling in on itself as the weight of the entire night collapsed onto you.

As soon as the first sob ripped out of your throat, Chris’s head snapped toward you. His entire body shifted as he reached for you, his hands cupping your cheeks, pulling you toward him, his voice dropping into something soft, something gentle.

“Aww, my love,” he murmured, his thumb brushing against your damp cheek, his grip warm, steady, comforting. “I’m sorry. Don’t cry.”

His voice was so soothing, so convincing that for a second, for just a second, it worked. His touch anchored you, his fingers smoothing over your cheekbones, his thumb wiping away the tears that wouldn’t stop coming. He held you so carefully, his eyes studying you like he actually cared, like he actually felt bad for everything that had just happened.

For a fleeting, fragile moment, you let yourself believe it.

And then his lips brushed your forehead, his breath steady as he exhaled against your skin. And when he spoke again, his voice was low, cold.

“You can’t cry when you did this to yourself.”

It was like a knife straight through your chest.

You snapped. The grief, the exhaustion, the overwhelming suffocation of the night collapsed into fury.

“Fuck you!” you screamed, thrashing against the seatbelt, against him. Your hands shoved at his chest, your nails scraping at his arms, your whole body writhing with the need to hurt him back.

Chris barely moved.

Your fists collided with him again, your sobs turning into frustrated, broken gasps as you fought against the seatbelt that locked you in place.

“Fuck you, Chris! Fuck you! I hate you!”

Chris grabbed your wrists, his grip tight, unyielding.

“In front of my parents’ house?” he murmured, his voice so eerily calm that it sent a shiver down your spine. “You know better.”

The words struck something deep inside you.

You froze.

Your chest was still heaving, your entire body trembling, but you stopped.

Chris waited. His grip loosened just slightly, his eyes scanning your face like he was making sure you had finally gotten it.

Then, satisfied, he let go of you entirely and leaned back, one hand gripping the wheel as he put the car into reverse.

And then, without another word, he backed out of the driveway and started the drive back to your place.

The ride was silent.

You stared out the window, your mind spinning, your body still shaking with leftover rage and humiliation.

Chris didn’t say anything.

But the smirk on his face, the way his fingers drummed against the wheel, told you everything you needed to know. He had won. And you had let him.

The ride home was completely silent. And Chris looked… calm. Like the past hour of screaming and fighting had never even happened.

As he pulled into your apartment parking lot, he put the car in park and let out a soft exhale, like he was coming down from a long day. He turned to you, and just like that, the mask slipped into place.

“Hey, baby,” he murmured, his voice so soft, so apologetic, like he actually cared. His hand reached over, cupping your thigh gently, his thumb rubbing slow circles against your skin. “You know I don’t mean it, right? I just… I can’t help but react when you do these things.”

Your stomach twisted violently, but you stayed quiet.

Chris sighed, leaning in closer, his voice dropping lower- so gentle, so coaxing. “Let me make it better for you, okay?” His lips brushed against your temple, his breath warm against your skin. “Let me come inside with you. I’ll make it all better. I’ll stay the night and make you feel real good, baby.”

You hated how fucking good he was at this.

How well he knew you.

How easily he could pull you back in.

And you let him.

You let him guide you out of the car, let him place a hand on your lower back as you walked into the apartment together, let yourself fall for it again.

For a moment, everything felt… calm. Forced, but calm. You weren’t dumb- you knew better- but the alternative was too exhausting to face right now.

So you walked inside, fully prepared to just sneak upstairs, let the night be over, maybe breathe for a second-

But the moment you opened the door, your stomach dropped.

Ava and Matt were sitting on the couch, waiting.

Like fucking parents catching their kid sneaking a boy in after curfew.

Matt was leaned back, arms resting along the couch, completely unbothered.

But Ava?

She was too calm.

Too at peace.

And that’s when you knew.

Something was about to go down.

Chris paused beside you, his hand still on your back as he assessed the situation. You swallowed thickly, stepping forward slightly. “Chris, go up to my room,” you murmured quickly. “I’ll talk to them.”

Chris smirked slightly, pressing a slow kiss to the side of your head before stepping forward, moving to walk past Ava.

She stood up.

Casually. Quietly. Without a word.

And blocked his path.

Chris raised an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly before flashing her a smug smile. “Excuse me,” he said smoothly, like he was politely asking someone to move out of his way in a grocery store.

Ava let out a short, almost innocent laugh-

Then cranked her right hand back and sent the nastiest fucking right hook to his face.

The slap of skin on skin echoed through the apartment, so fucking loud that it made your stomach lurch.

Chris hit the floor, landing hard on his side, his hand immediately flying to his jaw as he let out a low groan.

Then, everything exploded.

“FUCK YOU!” Ava screamed, her voice shaking with rage as she towered over him. “WHAT THE FUCK MAKES YOU THINK IT’S OKAY TO TREAT HER LIKE THAT, YOU FUCKING CUNT?! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!”

Chris rolled onto his back, groaning slightly as he blinked up at her, but Ava was already stepping forward, going off.

“YOU ARE SO FUCKING LUCKY I DON’T OWN A FUCKING GUN RIGHT NOW BECAUSE I WOULD SHOOT YOU UNTIL YOU’RE NOTHING BUT FUCKING COMPOST, YOU UGLY, WORTHLESS, WASTE OF SPACE!” She was shaking, her voice cracking, feral with rage. “HOW FUCKING DARE YOU?!”

Chris exhaled sharply, still gripping his face, but the worst part?

The smirk was still there.

Ava saw it.

And she lost it.

Without hesitation, she kicked him hard, right in the fucking balls.

Chris let out a strangled grunt, immediately curling inward, finally reacting, his body tensing in pain.

But Ava wasn’t done.

She spat on him.

And that was when the room went silent.

You stood there, frozen, still trying to process the absolute chaos of what just happened.

Chris was still on the ground, his body tense, his head tilted slightly like he was waiting for the next hit, his jaw clenched so fucking tight you swore you could hear his teeth grinding.

Ava turned to you.

Her face was dead fucking serious.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” she said coldly. “Go to fuck to bed.”

You swallowed thickly, your throat dry.

Then, she turned to Chris, her eyes burning with a warning, before she motioned to Matt.

Matt finally moved, standing up slowly, raising his eyebrows at you in a look that said you knew better than this.

Then, without another word, he followed Ava up the stairs, leaving you standing there, your ears ringing, your heart pounding-

And Chris, still on the floor, letting out a slow, uneven breath.

You didn’t move.

Not until you heard Ava’s door slam upstairs.

Only then did something click inside you. Only then did your body unfreeze, your legs moving on instinct as you stepped forward and crouched down beside Chris, your hands hovering slightly over his arms like you weren’t sure what you were even doing.

“Are you… okay?” you asked, your voice softer than you expected.

Chris let out a breath, then- laughed. A small, breathy chuckle that made your stomach twist in a way it shouldn’t.

“For someone who’s, what, five-three?” he muttered, groaning as he pressed a hand against his jaw. “She sure has a pretty lethal punch.”

Despite everything, you laughed too.

“Yeah,” you muttered, shaking your head. “She’s fucking crazy.”

Chris sat up slowly, cupping both his balls and his jaw at the same time, groaning again. “Yeah, I can see that.”

You exhaled, running a hand through your hair before standing. “Come on,” you murmured, holding out a hand. “Let me get you some ice.”

Chris hesitated, blinking up at you. Then, with a smirk just barely tugging at his lips, he took your hand. You helped him up, his movements slow, stiff, still clearly in pain.

You led him to the kitchen, grabbing a bag of frozen peas from the freezer and pressing it firmly against the side of his jaw.

Chris let out a soft hiss before exhaling. “You know,” he murmured, his tone dipping into something suggestive, “it’d feel better if you grabbed something else that got hurt…”

You glared at him.

Chris grinned. “Okay, okay, okay,” he muttered, holding up a hand in surrender. But when he shifted again, he groaned, his jaw tensing as he clenched his teeth.

You rolled your eyes. “Jesus Christ,” you muttered, shaking your head.

Without thinking, you lifted yourself onto the counter, your knees parting slightly to make space as you reached up to properly press the peas against his jaw.

Chris stepped forward, pushing between your legs- not sexually, not even intentionally, just fitting himself there like it was second nature.

The space between you felt small, your body instinctively reacting to his presence in a way you hated, in a way that made your stomach twist and your heart pound.

And then, for a moment- just a moment- you caught a glimpse of him from before.

Before the fighting, before the resentment, before the anger that had turned him into this twisted version of himself.

Chris was just… there.

Standing between your legs, his breath still uneven, his body still stiff from Ava’s hits, his hands resting lightly on your thighs. His face was soft, his eyes scanning yours, searching for something.

You didn’t know what.

Then, without warning, he leaned forward and rested his forehead against your shoulder.

You froze.

Your hand, still holding the bag of frozen peas against his jaw, stilled.

His fingers curled slightly against your thighs, his breath shaky, his body leaning into you in a way that made your chest ache.

And then, just as your mind started spinning with what the fuck is happening right now, he dropped the fucking bomb.

“You know I love you, right?”

Your breath hitched.

Your body locked up.

Your heart stopped beating.

The words hit like a slow-motion car crash, your entire world flipping upside down, your stomach lurching in ways that made you want to run, to scream, to cry-

And yet.

Despite everything.

Despite every fucking thing he had done.

Despite all the pain, all the manipulation, all the shit-

You still let yourself fall for it.

“I know.”

MASTERLIST

tags: @mattsobvimyfav @ilovejohnnieguilbertsblog @mattsturnii @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @watercolorskyy @strangecatpeach @katie1002 @1ovesiick @slut4christopherr @mattgirl4eva @mayalovesturn @chriss-slutt @violetstxrniolo777 @urfungi @jxst-Ixving-bxt-wxerd @chrispycremedonut @ranwaOy @princesspinkkk23 @madisonnxtdoor22 @sturniolohohoho @theboredknightcat-blog @hi-people-who-are-alive @middlepartmatt

[thydungeongal]

An earnest question in regards to D&D not being queer (side note, I agree): short of having queer mascots/main characters or being called something outright queer with its title, what would an example of a queer TTRPG look like? Like, your characters being queer has a mechanical impact? The themes of the game being more in line with a queer experience? Something else I'm missing? All of that and more?

All of that and more. It's better I explain through examples:

Monsterhearts is an RPG written by trans woman with an explicitly queer perspective. The genre of Monsterhearts is urban fantasy, specifically young adult urban fantasy featuring teenage monsters in school settings. Its themes are growing up, adolescence, and queerness, and it uses monsters to explore this theme. It is thematically thus openly queer, but the queerness is also present in the mechanics, in both the Skins (the game's playable classes and archetypes) and in the core mechanics.

Dungeon Bitches (by site user @cavegirlpoems) is less coded and more explicit and it is explicitly a game inspired by D&D's genre of dungeon-crawling fantasy: it starts by accepting D&D's premise of dungeon crawling as an occupation in a medieval fantasy world and then asks who actually would end up doing that sort of thing. And the answer it comes up with is marginalized people, especially queer women, and Dungeon Bitches is about playing disaster lesbians in dungeons. The queerness is front and center and the game gives mechanical weight to the fact that the characters are outcast women living outside of polite society, and the mechanics support the bitches getting fucked up, falling in love, and other such cool dungeon activities.

Thirsty Sword Lesbians is probably the biggest name queer RPG on the market and I feel it deserves mention despite my own personal issues with it. It operates in the nebulous genre space of She-Ra and Revolutionary Girl Utena and is very much about lesbians crossing swords and flirting while doing swashbuckling adventures. It gives mechanical weight to flirting and romance as well as combat, and while I think it's quite simplistic in how it touches on queer themes, it is still engaging with queerness on some level.

And like, those three games bring the queerness to the table explicitly as part of the game text, the rules, and the buy-in. Unlike in D&D, where sometimes there's a gay elf, there really is no way to play any of the above games without a queer lens, because at that point you would be playing a fundamentally different game. In D&D the queer lens is optional and has to be brought by the players

[alexanderwales]

The Hour of Truth

The spell made people tell the truth.

It was expensive, but not so expensive it didn't find its use. The intelligence services spent enormous amounts of money on it, it was part of every serious interview, and the legal system relied on it.

This isn't a story about one of those. It's a story about Michael and Sarah, in their dining room with a ReadySpell, engaged to be married but without a date set. It was a gift they were giving to themselves, something that would reassure them, a chance to explore each other. Michael was cheery about the whole thing, but Sarah was decidedly less so.

She unrolled the parchment onto the table they'd assembled from a kit three months prior. She read the instructions on the card, which were dead simple, then placed her fingers on two corners of the parchment, with Michael doing the same. The complex lines in the center glowed, a circle burst into flames for half a second, and then it went still and dull.

"That's it then?" Michael asked. He withdrew his fingers. "That's the whole thing? I somehow thought it would be ... more."

"We're supposed to test it," she said, withdrawing her own fingers and picking up the card. "Say something false. There are test phrases."

"Two plus two is ... hrm. Four." He frowned. "I could feel a resistance. What an odd feeling."

"My head ... no, can't do it," Sarah said, reading the first part from the card. "It says, 'my head exploded today'. I can't finish the sentence."

"Well then," Michael said. He spread his hands, palms up. "Here we are."

"One hour," Sarah said with a nod. She placed the instruction card down and flipped the small hourglass that had come with the kit.

"Do you love me?" Michael asked.

"I do," Sarah replied. She said it solemnly. "Do you love me?"

"Of course," Michael replied. "Well, it would have been extremely embarrassing if we hadn't answered those correctly." He tapped his fingers on the table for a moment. "How many children do you want?"

"Two, or maybe three," said Sarah.

"I want two, but could go for a third," said Michael.

They had talked about it before. You didn't get engaged after four years of dating without having had those conversations at some point.

"It's interesting, isn't it?" asked Michael. "We know each other, but I suppose there's always at least a little doubt until you're under the spell. A difference between knowing and knowing."

"We only have an hour," said Sarah. "Rapid fire?"

"Sure," said Michael with a nod.

"Do you want to spend the rest of your life with me?" asked Sarah.

"Yes," said Michael. "You?"

"Yes. Will you stay faithful to me?"

"Yes. You?"

"Yes. Do you have unresolved feelings for anyone?"

"No. You?"

"No." Sarah paused. "How often do you need to have sex?"

"Need?" asked Michael. "I'm not sure I even agree with that question. But I can answer want, which is what I've told you before, maybe two or three times a week."

"How often does it end up being that we have sex?" asked Sarah.

"Less than that," said Michael. He frowned at her. "Can you do that, ask questions you know the answer to? I suppose so."

"It's two point one times a week," said Sarah.

"How can you be that precise?" asked Michael.

"I've been tracking it," said Sarah. She folded her hands in front of her. "You know I like data. And I'll need to track it when we're trying for children."

"Is that the only reason you've been tracking it?" asked Michael. He had leaned back in his chair slightly.

"I was worried that it might come up," said Sarah with a slight sigh. "I was worried that we might get in an argument and you would say that we weren't having sex enough, and I wanted pre-emptive ammunition."

The spell did not actually compel her to say all that, but he could have poked and prodded and gotten around vague answers, so it was best to just tell him. She wasn't proud of it.

"How many times a week would be the right number for you?" asked Michael.

"Once a week," Sarah replied, which was what she'd told him before. "In an ideal world, I suppose."

"And you're saying that it's two?" asked Michael.

"Two point one," said Sarah.

"Is this ... a problem?" asked Michael. "I mean, it should be a compromise between us."

"It is a compromise," said Sarah. "And it's one that I'm fine with." She was coming off as defensive, she knew, but it was the truth, the spell still had plenty of time left.

It seemed to take him a moment to recognize that.

"You don't resent me?" asked Michael.

"No," said Sarah. She let a beat pass, to give him a chance to ask another question, then reached down to her purse and pulled out her notebook.

"Is that a notebook?" asked Michael.

"I had a few things prepared," said Sarah.

"Ah," said Michael. "Well, I'm an open book." He smiled at her.

Sarah looked down at the notebook. "Where were you last Thursday?"

"I ... need to think about that," said Michael. "I was working late, preparing for the pitch. I sent you a message, didn't I?"

"You did," said Sarah. "What happened after the pitch?"

"I came home," said Michael.

"Did you do anything else between finishing work and coming home?" she asked.

"No," he said.

She looked down at her notebook again. "Last June you went on a work trip, what did you do together?"

Michael looked at her for a moment. "We went out to dinner," he said, and anticipating the follow-up questions, he continued, "Afterward, on the second night we were there, the guys wanted to go to a strip club, and they did, but instead of doing that, I went back to my hotel room and sat there alone, because I knew you wouldn't understand that it's just ... a thing men do. But I didn't go to the strip club, I didn't see naked women, I just sat there watching a movie."

"Are you annoyed with me?" Sarah asked.

"Yes," Michael replied. "You don't trust me, and it's important, if we're getting married, for you to trust me."

"You cheated on me," Sarah said.

Michael pursed his lips. "Does it do us any good to have this conversation again with the spell active?"

"Probably, yes," Sarah said. "It would let me know you were honest."

Michael nodded. "It was one time. I had been drinking. There was something electric in the air, I don't know, this raw attraction that I had never felt, and I thought about you, and the thought seemed to just slide right off my brain. And then afterward, I felt so much guilt, like I had destroyed my entire life, and we'd only been dating for six months, so it felt like it was a sign, like I had revealed, too late, what you meant to me."

"When you went to bed with her, you thought that it was casual," Sarah said. "You thought that you would get away with it."

"Now hold on," Michael said, leaning forward slightly. "I was the one who told you. No one outed me, no one found anything out, it was my own conscience."

"A month late," said Sarah.

Michael nodded. "A month late. I wish that it had never happened. If it did have to happen, then I wish that I had told you right away. I was an asshole. But I've been faithful to you since then, I haven't done anything else, I ... I love you."

"Do you still think about her?" asked Sarah.

"Every now and then," said Michael. "Every month or two, she comes to mind. Mostly in a negative way."

"Mostly?" asked Sarah.

"Please," said Michael. "I don't want to hurt you. I don't think it's good that you keep dwelling on this, that you won't let this go." He looked down at the scroll, which had curled up slightly. "Is this why you wanted to do this?"

"Yes," said Sarah. "You said 'mostly', what does that mean? Mostly a negative way, which means that sometimes it's a positive way. Explain how."

Michael grit his teeth. "I am telling you, from the bottom of my heart, with a truth spell active, that it's not going to be good for either of us if we go down this path."

"I'm not marrying you unless you answer," Sarah said.

"That's the truth?" asked Michael. "I mean, you could have told me that before, you could have said that without the spell."

"You would have thought I was being manipulative," she replied.

"I think you're being manipulative now," Michael said. "You love me? You forgive me? You want to marry me?"

"Yes, yes, yes," said Sarah. "We're pulling out a rotten tooth, as I see it. I would have pulled it out on my own, if I could have, but I need you, and I need truth."

Michael took a breath. "I love you so much. You mean the world to me. I am so thankful to be marrying you, if that still happens." He took another breath. "The only thing I think, the only positive thought I have about her, is that she was more enthusiastic in bed. But I love you, Sarah, you are the only one I want to be with, it's not something that weighs on me, it's a consideration but it pales in comparison to everything else, you're smart, you're funny, you make me want to be a better man, these past four years I've become a better man."

"There have been times when you think to yourself that she was better in bed than I am?" asked Sarah. She had gone very still. She was swallowing the idea, in the same way that someone might swallow a caltrop.

"No," said Michael. "She wasn't 'better', she just ... wanted it in a way that you didn't. Don't. She was hungry for me in a way that you never are."

Sarah began to cry.

"I'm so sorry," said Michael. "But it doesn't mean anything to me, I told you that, it's an idle thought, it's got nothing to do with marriage, with partnership."

"I think I might be gay," said Sarah.

Michael stared at her. "What?" he asked. "What ... what does that mean?" He looked at the timer, which was still running down. "You said that once a week was what you'd prefer, did you mean with women?"

"No, I ..." she was sniffling, and went to her purse for a tissue, which she used to blot away her tears and wipe liquified snot from where it had gathered on her upper lip. "I enjoy having sex with you, I like the feeling of it. I do. That's true." She said it as though it was almost a revelation to hear it said under the truth spell, as though she wasn't certain that it would pass muster.

"Then what do you mean?" asked Michael. "Do you mean you might be ... bisexual?"

"I felt that heat for a woman," Sarah said. "For several women." She let out a breath. "I never did anything with them, I never even knew if it's what they would have wanted, but ... I don't know. It's confusing."

"But you still want to marry me," said Michael. "Even with that."

"I do," said Sarah. "I love you."

"I love you too," said Michael. He watched her face, as though he could read something there. He looked down at the timer. "Do you think this marriage is a good idea?"

"Yes," she replied. "Yes enough that I didn't have to add qualifications, I guess." She gave a nervous laugh. "Do you?"

"Yes," said Michael.

But as soon as he said it, he wasn't sure that it was true. Did the spell work like that? Could you say something that was untrue after you said it? There was a rising panic inside him, a feeling of being trapped with her that he'd never felt before, not before the affair or after.

"Let's set this aside," she said. "Let's be done with it. Okay?"

Michael nodded. He had wanted to say 'okay', but it wasn't.

[gracie-eilish]

Hii!💓

I saw your post about the Taylor Billie crossover and that’s such a cute idea!!!! I thought maybe you could write a fic inspired by seven. (smth about homophobic parents and reader goes to live with Billie. Like the bridge)

Please don’t feel pressured to write this xx

i think you should come live with me… and we could be pirates ✨🌿🌙🤍🪐

warnings: mention of homophobic parents, i tried to keep it as light and fluffy as i could!!it’s kinda long as well! i didn’t wanna break it into two parts lol!

an: thank you for the request!! i’m so sorry it took so long to get out😭😭 this song means a lot to me and my friends as i’m sure it does to a lot of people so i wanted it to be good!! i hope you like it!🫣🤞☺️

an: two fics in one day!! woo!! i’m working my way through requests and tryinggg to finish up some other long fics (my peachy babies i see you and it’s happening i promise!!) thank you as always for ur patience. also just wanted to say thanks for the love this last month!! it’s been almost a month since i started posting and i love it here:) anywhosies!! here’s seven.

august 13th, 6:57pm, Coopersburg, PA.

the babble of the creek beneath you, the squeaking of the tire swing, and the birds chirping created a melody, sweeter than any song billie had written before. and mixed with the sound of your sweet giggles, billie was sure she was in heaven.

the sun was starting to drift under the horizon giving the sky a gorgeous coral hue, mixed with a hint of violet and navy, but not too dark yet. the air was warm, like a fluffy blanket straight out of the dryer.

“billie!! you’re going too high!! i’m too scared to jump!!” you squealed, giggling furiously. your braids billie had done for you earlier flew behind you as billie pushed the swing again, sending you higher, making you feel like you were flying amongst the trees.

billie grabbed the rope, slowing down the swing so she could be level with you again. you looked over at her before grabbing her arm and pulling her closer, before sealing the gap between you with a kiss. billie wrapped her arms around your waist, melting into your arms, only pulling away when you both smiled into the kiss. you tasted like the sweet tea you had been drinking, your mason jar now sat forgotten on a rock nearby.

“hi mama,” she whispered onto her lips, making you blush furiously and scrunch your nose. she pecked your nose before maneuvering you on the swing so she could sit too, pulling you onto her lap. one arm draped around your waist and the other holding the swings rope.

“baby can i talk to you about something?” billie started, a nervous edge to her voice. you turned your head, a curious yet concerned look in your eye, nodding for her to continue.

“how umm… how are your parents lately?” she held her breath waiting for you to answer.

your parents. how you loved them dearly.. until they stopped loving you. they said they still did, but their words and actions and beliefs said differently.

a few years back you had innocently asked your mom about how she knew she liked boys. your mom just looked at you funny, saying that every girl likes boys… there’s no question about it. that’s how god made girls. girls grow up and fall in love with boys, and become wives, and mothers, and that’s how it goes.

sensing her edge you backed off, retreating to your room that night feeling more confused than ever. if you weren’t supposed to like girls… then why did you feel this way?? why did your heart beat faster around them, and why do your hands get so sweaty near them, and why do you get nauseous thinking about being a man’s wife one day, but melt into a puddle thinking about being a woman’s wife one day….

falling in love with a woman, sleeping next to a woman, holding her, touching her, kissing her, making love to her…. walking down the aisle to her, holding her hand while bringing your babies into the world with her, raising those children with her, growing old with her…

as you got older it became harder to hide. it was obvious to anyone with eyes. especially after you met billie. i mean who wouldn’t fall in love with her?

you’re parents found out about you and billie when they caught you kissing one night out back. you had told them that you two were gonna go look at stars, and planets, and you did… just the ones in her eyes instead of the sky.

because they “still had love for you,” they sent billie home and had a long talk with you about your choices. and though you don’t try to recall them, you’ll never forget the things your parents said to you that night. you hid in your room and called billie panicking. you didn’t want to love anyone else, you couldn’t…

so you and billie continued dating in secret. only meeting up in secret locations and having perfect alibis if your parents caught on. while you still lived at home, and luckily your parents didn’t suspect a thing, you cried every night. you wanted so badly to escape, to be free from them. to be free…

“umm.. they’re good i guess. getting older sooo you know. they’re getting weird with me growing up and all that i guess. i’m looking forwards to moving out one day though.” billie nodded and gave your waist a squeeze before setting her chin on your shoulder.

you let out a watery laugh, “my mom keeps trying to set me up with all the church guys. even if i wasn’t gay they’re sooo just not cute.” billie raised her eyebrows and laughed with you.

“really? and what do you find cute missy?” billie teased. you played this game a lot. one of you would describe what you wanted in a girlfriend… and it was just you describing the other.

“wellllllll, i love a girl who’s kind and funny, and she would have these big blue eyes, like little sea crystals, and dark hair that compliments her skin so perfectly. and the cutest little button nose you could ever imagine, and it’s decorated with teensy little freckles. and she would have pink pillowy lips that are impossible not to kiss. ooh and if she could have little dimples that would be a great bonus. WAIT omg and she would sing.” you finished with a smile that said “ta da!!” billie smiled back, cheeks flushed before kissing your own cheek.

“mmm i love you to the moon billie eilish pirate baird o’connell,” you sighed, leaning back into her.

“and i love you to saturn y/f/n y/m/n o’connell,” she murmured back, nose grazing your jaw. you sat back up in shock, turning to face her with the biggest smile on your face. you were totally speechless though, trying to get out a thought.

“y/n?”

“yes?”

“i think you should come live with me… and we could be pirates,” she added playfully.

“then you won’t have to cry… or hide in the closet,” she said softly. your smile faltered a bit, not in disappointment but in shock. you knew billie’s family loved you, and you were old enough to be on your own.

“really?” you whispered. billie nodded with a small smile.

“run away with me lovey. pack your jellycats and a sweater. we’ll move you away from there forever.”

you practically pounced onto her, kissing her so fiercely.

“we can’t tell anyone. other than your family of course.”

“cross my heart, won’t tell no other.” billie promised, crossing over her heart with her finger.

your love would last so long…

years later…

august 22nd, 6:48 pm, Los Angeles, CA

you and billie were laid out among the weeds in the grass, billie sat with her hands behind her, while your back was to her front, sitting in between her legs.

“you know, i still remember hiding in that field back in PA. i can still picture you in the trees… high in the sky on that old swing.”

you hummed a small laugh, closing your eyes at the memory. your little hiding spot all those years ago. you now both lay in a similar spot, near your home in LA. after living with Billie’s family for a few years, the two of you moved out together to your own place.

“mama!!” you opened your eyes at the little voice.

“mama look!! im a pirate!!” your little baby boy, not so little anymore, had one of billie bandanas tied on his head and a stick in his hand as his sword. he showed off his best pirate poses making you and billie giggle.

“buddy you are the best pirate out there!!” billie said to him, fixing the much too big bandana on his little head.

“do you think sissy will wanna be a pirate?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

your hand went to your baby bump where “sissy” resided.

“you know buddy, i’m not sure yet. but i’m sure she would love to,” you said, softly caressing his little face. he smiled before running back to his spot, continuing his pirate adventure.

as the two of you watched your little boy play around, billie leaned down to press kisses to your cheek, your eyes closing in total bliss, and she brought her own hand to your growing bump.

“i love you to the moon mrs. o’connell,” she whispered into your ear. the name still making you blush after all this time.

“and i love you to saturn.”

your love would last so long…

✨🌿🌙🤍🪐

[sleepypanda01]

CB theories/Thoughts part 4 (maybe people are not the only ones good at disguising their true nature)

In this part I want to talk about the keys. I find it pretty interesting that Silver was found in a book at the library, while Bronze and Goldie were at the flea market. Why is that? But before we try to answer that question,I would like to bring attention to something else.It is also worth mentioning the state the keys were in when they were found. Silver was cracked but clean, while Goldie and Bronze were covered in dirt. What is more, is that Silver did not have her keyring on,but Goldie and Bronze did.

This implies that Silver was most likely used recently,while Bronze and Goldie haven't been used in a while and went missing before Silver. This supports the theory I suggested in the previous part—Nox and Violet are not forced to work with ex libris. Either ex libris is not active or the old man got hold of the keys. Either way it is very possible that the old man is not actually a member of Ex Libris.

What all of this could possibly mean?

If we take into consideration these little details, they point to the possibility of Silver knowing Nox. In the previous post I mentioned that Nox and Violet were not strictly restricted and they were also awake, which goes against the methods of ex libris. We can assume that Silver was under similar circumstances because of the missing keyring and her clean condition,but of course there's also the possibility of Nox or whoever left Silver in the library removing her keyring.

You know what else is just as interesting as suspicious? All the information that Silver tells Chase once she is fixed. Of course this also serves the narrative as it gives information to the readers,and the information she provided is very important. Thanks to her we know that Ex Libris are the ones that created the keys and the clues she provides help us create an image of the order. 

So what do we know about ex libris and their treatment toward the keys?

We know that the keys were very restricted to the point they were rarely in their person form and they were kept Very securely in the library. 

But it's strange isn't it? What's strange,you may ask? Silver's first reaction to when she gains back her conversational form and how different it is from Bronze and Goldie's reaction.

 Once Silver gets fixed, one of the first things she does is introduce herself and proceed to ask if Chase is an Ex Libris member.I find two things suspicious here. Why would she get into the trouble of introducing herself? Ex libris is her creator and its members would know who she is. Moreover,she said that the keys were always kept in the library and I doubt Chase's room could be mistaken for a library room.

What makes her reaction more suspicious are the reactions of Bronze and Goldie after awakening. Bronze says "They finally let us out for a bit, finally." While Goldie says " what luck, I trust you slept well." Both of their reactions show that they have been asleep for a while and expected to still be at the hands of Ex Libris. Their assumption is that ex libris awoke them as they do once in a while, they didn't feel the need to ask any of the humans in the room whether they are a member of ex Libris. Why? Because it is a given to them, of course they believe they are at the hands of ex libris,because that's where they were the last time they were awake. 

Moreover, Goldie makes a remark about the place and says that Ex Libris has opened some windows. He realised that there was something different about the room and pointed it out, unlike Silver who didn't make any comments about the room. Plus,Goldie says " I am indeed the great hero key, Big Gold." He doesn't exactly introduce himself like Silver did,he rather confirms that he is the hero key because he expects the humans to know who he is.

In short, Silver's reaction makes me think that she could have been somewhere else before meeting Chase and that she knew Chase isn't an ex libris member,while the last place Goldie and Bronze were seems to be indeed the ex libris library. Why do I think that? Let's take another look at the information Silver provided.

-The keys are not aware of time passing because they are asleep due to the keyrings

-The keys were kept locked up tightly

Now let's see. Both Bronze and Goldie had keyrings on them and were under the impression that they were still at Ex Libris headquarters, clearly not aware of either time passing or their surroundings. Plus,they were covered in dirt, implying that they have not been used in a while. Their circumstances match the description of the circumstances Silver provided. Guess who doesn't match that description though. Nox,Violet and Silver. That's who. Both Nox and Violet are keys and not only they don't have keyrings on them,they are free enough to enter books all on their own and make plans. Their conditions do not align with the conditions of keys kept by Ex Libris. As for Silver,she didn't have any keyring on her either when found by Chase, and in dreams by day we see a glimpse of the past involving Violet and some other keys that we see for the first time. It's strange how we don't see Bronze or Goldie but we do see Violet, the one key that is currently with Nox and is awake and not restricted. This could mean that Silver and Violet had not been separated until recently.

Silver said that she and her family have never been apart before,but that doesn't make much sense. Bronze and Goldie's state shows that they have been with Ex Libris before ending up in the market,but Silver was left in the library deliberately and their circumstances are very different.

My theory is the following. Nox is held captive by the old man who took over the former ex libris headquarters and has 8 keys in his disposal while there are 4 keys missing. The reason why I think so is because in dreams by night, we see Nox in a locked coffin which could symbolise his imprisonment. Later we see Nox running away and passing by a door with eight locks similar to the lock in his coffin. Then we see four lines marked in his chest. If we add up the numbers of the lockers and the lines on Nox's chest the final number is 12, just as many keys there are. If the 8 locks represent the keys that the old man has,then the lock in Nox's coffin represents his situation of being a key and the four lines symbolise the keys that need to be replaced. Nox has the number 2 on his back, meaning that he might be the second of the four people replacing one of the missing keys. His moon symbol on his back as a key indicates that he is replacing the villain key because the moon is the opposite of the sun which is the symbol of the hero key.

 From all this we can come to the conclusion that three of the four missing keys are the following:

-Bronze because he was found with a keyring in a market 

-Goldie for the same reason as Bronze 

-the villain key because Nox is replacing him

And the fourth is a key whose identity we don't know yet.

I don't think Silver is the fourth missing key for reasons explained above, but in short it's because she must have been with Nox and Violet until recently and as I said in part 1, I believe they were the ones who put Silver in the library.

Do I think Silver has been lying to Chase? I do think that Silver knows more than she lets on. Just like Nox,she could be misleading Chase by mixing the truth with lies, altering the truth or deliberately leaving out some stuff.

Silver is smarter than she appears,it is easy to underestimate her due to her very kind demeanor, but she is capable of keeping things to herself. Just like the time she didn't mention that Chase needed all the key to make a wish. Why would she do that? She said she was afraid that Chase wouldn't believe her,and this makes me think that she is not as trusting of humans as she appears to be,and it is totally justified considering how the keys have been mistreated all their lives by humans.

My point is that Silver is not as naive as she might seem. The first thing she does when she meets Chase is to apologise for using the narratonin to fix herself. She seemed worried as if she didn't know how Chase would react to that. Maybe she thought he would be angry at her and was afraid of the consequences. Maybe Silver has been wary of Chase just like Bronze was but she didn't express it openly, that could be part of the reasons why she didn't mention that Chase needs all the keys.

In part 2 I mentioned that I have a theory about Violet and Nox's goal. I can't imagine exactly what their final goal might be, but in general I assume that it must be to stop the old man and free themselves. But how? First they need Nox to turn into a human again,but he would need narratonin and the keys for that and oopsie—he is a key now so he can't gather narratonin and 4 keys are missing. How will they overcome those obstacles?

By leaving Silver in the library for someone to take her,earn narratonin for Nox and find the keys for them. Silver was found with a paper that had instructions but maybe giving guidance to the key holder was not the only purpose it served. Doesn't the key pictured in the page Chase have look like the key stuck in the page that Nox came out of? 

Silver said that it shouldn't be possible for Nox to follow Chase into books,but there could be a spell developed that allows it. Maybe whoever touched the paper and used Silver to enter a book activated some sort of spell, allowing Nox to follow them into books. Silver was meant to be tracked in books so Nox could get into the same books as her key holder and steal the narratonin, since he can't earn his own. If Silver is directly involved in Nox and Violet's plans,her job must have been to earn narratonin for Nox and find the missing keys with the help of her key holder—who is Chase.

At this point, I would like to talk about Chase's perspective on villains back in the beach boys arc. Chase shared his opinion of how doing bad things does not necessarily mean that you are a bad person. I think this might not only apply to Nox,but also Silver. 

I think either Silver has been directly involved in the plans of Violet and Nox,or connected the dots and realised who Buddy is and what he is after but kept quiet. This is reinforced by the following clues:

-Bronze is actively trying to identify Buddy and what is the deal with this dude. He doesn't seem to have any idea about who Buddy may be,he is in the dark just like Chase and Deacon.He tests things to find answers and even warns Chase that he should be careful because people can be deceiving and this brings me to my next point.

-As soon as Bronze says that some people are good at disguising their nature,the panel cuts off to Silver writing a letter to Violet. Could this be coincidental, deliberate or Punko trolling us? All choices are possible but if it was foreshadowing then it adds up. Silver decides to write Violet a letter after seeing Chase being really down due to his mom's condition worsening. Why didn't she think of writing a letter sooner? When Bronze was found,for example? Here's what I believe. Whether Silver is involved in Nox and Violet's plans directly or simply keeps things from Chase,she has come to care for Chase and wants to help him save his mom because she can sympathise with the sentiment of wanting your family to be safe, that is why she decided to reach out to Violet now of all times.

 Also, there was a high chance that Nox would be mad at Chase for keeping Goldie's existence a secret.It isn't really the best idea to ask favors from someone who is mad at you,yet Silver didn't seem to fear that her letter wouldn't get to her sister. Maybe because Silver knew Nox would deliver the letter since it is from her? Serving as more proof that she and Nox might know each other.

Also, there's one more thing Bronze could be right about. If Nox was the one who left Silver in the library,then he does know their location. He might not know the exact address but he knows they are in Sugar springs and is indeed biding his time cause currently he is in no place to do anything.

Finally, remember how I said there are two other keys missing? I think one of them was found by someone and that person is behind the flyers that are looking for the keys. I like to think it was Simon. I don't have many clues to back up this theory other than Simon being busy during the day of dance practice and not getting into details. He only says that something came up. Surely,if I were to discover a magical key that allows me to enter books I would also forget everything else I was supposed to do.

Furthermore,If Simon is that black haired guy we saw in episode 46,he seemed a bit interested in the books Chase had.

Plus, remember back in the early Chapters how Chase also had the Idea of putting up flyers offering a reward in order to find the keys?This is why I think it's not Ex Libris behind the flyers,but a normal citizen and most likely a friend of Chase, because we must have been introduced to them for a reason. I like to imagine that Simon is another key holder and that he and Chase are besties who share the same brain cell which is why they both had the same idea about the flyers lol. 

Overall I think Nox and silver are kinda secretive and careful with what they say. For example, back in the beach arc Nox asked Chase if Deacon was there too,but in reality he already knew the answer and not only that, but he also knew his name by that time.

I think Silver's letter will be very important to how things will play out from now on. If we assume that Nox and Silver have been using Chase so far,they certainly have a change of heart now as they have come to care about him.Besides, even if Silver has been keeping things from Chase, I doubt she would be as cruel as to give him false hope of saving his mom.

Bonus detail: When Silver had a nightmare, we see Violet asking about the whereabouts of someone who is implied to have been taken away by force. I assume she was referring to Nox and this must have been the point where the procedure for his key transformation started, which explains why Silver avoided answering Chase’s question.

This turned out VERY LONG, so if you stayed till the end, thank you so much for your time. I seriously might be overthinking and what I said could turn out to be a bunch of nonsense. CB is such an exciting story and I am very curious to see what will happen next. I would love to hear what you all think!

[hotasfahrenheit]

i've had some thoughts rattling around my brain about Keen since episode 9 showed us flashbacks of the boys as kids when they were adopted and then a little older when they started their training for real, and this week's episode just added more fuel to the fire.

i think one of the saddest things that the last couple episodes have really exposed that a lot of people might miss because of the other bombshells that have been dropped is the fact that Keen was set up possibly even worse than Fadel and Bison were in this life. they were adopted together, told they were going to be a family, and then Lily manipulated them all into becoming who they are as adults. she lucked out that Bison and Fadel liked each other so much and bonded so strongly to each other, and she used that bond to isolate and control Keen in a completely different way.

Keen's desperate to be in the field like the other two and to be sent on missions; he doesn't have the same set of skills that they do and wasn't able to develop his talents in the same way, and it's clear that Lilly took the natural aptitude of Fadel and Bison and turned that into what they are now, but she chose to push Keen into the behind the scenes aspect of the business. she's also made it clear from the start which set of talents she values more as is clear from the way she glares at Keen when he can't shoot his bottle in the flashback.

Keen isn't given any kind of reassurance or support for missing his shot, or told to try again; Lily answers Bison's questions about why they need to learn to shoot by telling them that they have to learn to protect themselves, then she gives Keen a few more judgey looks, implying it's something she doesn't expect him to be able to do. the next scene in the flashback is her giving Bison and Fadel their first assignment, and by this point Keen has already been relegated to being the paper guy and having an office job.

these kids all lost their parents and are gathered up by Lily at the same time and told they're going to be a family; they look like they're all roughly the same age. we all know how seriously Fadel and Bison take to the brother relationship, but Keen is pushed to the outside of this by Lily and her priorities. i had figured before episode 10 that they had been trained together for a longer period of time and maybe Keen had just not gotten along with them because he was jealous of their talents, but Fadel telling Style that he doesn't really know anything about Keen besides that they were adopted at the same time says to me that Lilly purposefully kept them apart instead of it being their choice.

Fadel saying they don't care about Keen makes me so sad for him. the fact that he only really knows that Keen was adopted at the same time and does other work for Lilly that's not in the field means they don't care because they don't know him at all. they haven't had the chance to bond with him the way that they did with each other. they weren't pushed together with him; they were pushed to each other, and Keen was pushed off on his own to watch them be the favoured children and struggle by himself.

imagine your parents are murdered in front of you, you're scooped up by this woman who says she's going to take care of you and build a family with you and two other boys your age who have been through the same experience, but then you're not as good as the other two boys at the tasks she sets you, plus the two of them deeply connect to each other and fall into a sibling bond and leave you outside of it. that you're kept so separate from them that despite being a "family" for years, they know basically nothing about you, while your shared mother keeps dangling the things you want right outside of your grasp.

she's driven a wedge between the boys so deep that Keen resents Fadel and Bison enough to WANT try to kill them himself, while they don't have any idea that he would even be willing or able to. he's been kept so far out of their notice while their successes and talents have been constantly waved in front of him as well as being consistently put down by Lilly for his mistakes and inadequacies. she's pushed Keen into a corner and made him think that it's Fadel and Bison's fault for putting him there instead of it being a way for her to control him and keep him under her thumb.

Fadel and Bison have given the impression from the first episode that it's the two of them against the world; brothers bonded so tightly together that nothing can shake that. they have a Mother, but really they only have each other. it's the two of them and it always will be. but there were three of them. there were three boys when this started. and they don't care about Keen. he's alone.

i'm really hoping that the current situation snaps Keen the rest of the way out of Lilly's control. he should have already figured out what his future looks like if he really wants out of the family business like he's promised Thanon, because if he's known the entire time that Fadel's last boyfriend got murdered instead of just leaving, he should be fully aware that they face the same fate if he tries to leave Lilly. with that knowledge plus finding out that Lilly killed his parents along with Fadel's and Bison's, hopefully he turns on her and helps the others take her down. her lack of hesitation to send him or other hired hitmen after the two favoured sons should be a pretty clear signal to him about her willingness to off him as well at the drop of a hat.

fingers crossed that Keen and Thanon get to have a happy life far away from Lilly and that he finally gets to have an actual family that doesn't involve manipulation, abuse, and murder.

[adsagsona]

Thinya told him that it would take time for him to heal and he knew that she didn't mean physically. He was feeling better than he had been in months, even if his leg was still giving him a bit of trouble. And he had the feeling that he could take on more mentally as well... but becoming a king of his people? Maybe he would never be truly ready for that.

"I'm glad I make you happy." Kili answered, even if it was said in a bit of wonder. Just a few short days ago he had been convinced that they were good friends, but nothing more. "You know, we could walk back a different way to Erebor... take the long route. It would take us about two weeks." Kili murmured as he caressed through Thinya's hair. "Perhaps the people here would be willing to help us with some food for along the way."

"It is..." She smiled before remaining quiet. She knew that snow had now a different meaning to Kili, which broke her heart. The thought of seeing their loved ones, Thorin, lying in the snow covered with blood was still making her heart bleed. She though chased it away as soon as she could, only to remember the beautiful memories. She looked at Kili and appreciated his features, his handsomeness, his whole being.

As he reassured her, Thinya smiled and welcomed his kiss on her lips. She caressed his cheek and hummed before resting her forehead against his. "It will take time, Kili. Allow yourself to heal with time. And I will be here. I promise you." She kissed his lips again before hiding into his arms for a warm cuddle. She slowly pulled the covers on top of them to stay warm. "And you make me happy, Kee. You have my heart and love for you, I promise." She smiled and just caressed his chest tenderly, slowly relaxing in his arms. She wanted to enjoy Kili for herself a bit more before they returned to Erebor. Knowing that he would be surrounded by everybody, Thinya appreciated this time alone with him.

[rationalnerd62]

I'm feeling weirdly about C3 ending next week (I guess there's some sadness mixed with other stuff, but me, putting feelings into words? Not in my autism), so instead of thinking too much about those feelings, I want to list random things about Bell's Hells I'd like to get resolved or developed, either in that 8.5h finale or in future BH one-shots (cause they've got to have some one day, right? Right?).

It's in no particular order whatsoever, I'm just putting random thoughts out there (and hoping to see other people's random thoughts too).

Titans' shenanigans! Both Ashton and Fearne absorbed a shard, and got some nice abilities out of it, but is there more to explore here? What does this mean for the elemental life of Exandria? Is this a path to some resurgence of the Titans? Are there other shards elsewhere? Will Ashton ever meet some remains of the cult their parents were in? Is that something they're still interested in knowing more about?

Ludinus! I am hoping this won't get resolved in the finale, because this would give big Trent M9 finale vibes and feel rushed, but that damn elf is still somewhere out there! What are his goals now that Predathos is out / the BH finale deals with the Gods in a way or another? Will he ever come back to haunt our characters?

Laudna! The Matron hinted that there was a possible path to her getting back what got stolen from her (aka her mortality). While I never would want for her to become a "normal human mortal" (she should still be able to get a form of dread and play with shadow and have fun with some of her "monstrous" powers!), I honestly will hate it if my favourite CR couple is *another one* of those couples with wildly different aging speed and one of the member of the couple has to outline the other for decades or centuries. Let Imogen and Laudna grow old together in their little cottage! They deserve it! I could see that being resolved as a "gift" from the Gods (if there's a good outcome with them), but I also wouldn't say no to a post-canon story (one shot, novel, comics, who knows) centered on this. I could see both Imogen and Laudna having made their peace with this, and then maybe in a few years they're starting to talk about kids, and there's this realization that Laudna will also outlive those, and that's when she decides that she needs to do *something*. I don't know whether that's possible, but Matthew! More impossible things have been done in your world!

The Shade Mother! Is she still under Jrusar? It's kinda funny that BH's first main arc ended up with them running away and never finishing there ahaha.

Similarly, will they ever go down to find FCG's coin that Orym had thrown under Jrusar? I know at least some of the cast mentioned being curious about that.

Hey, talking about FCC, will BH Talk with Frida? What about D? Our group really didn't have much time to mourn him, so maybe finding the answers FCG was looking for regarding who he is would be a way for them to process their grief.

(I just had a thought about Ashton going back to Jrusar and Milo without FCG and this broke my heart)

Dorian and his family! He has mentioned them before, and we've met his father, but seeing where he grew up and having him introduce Orym would be nice. And vice versa with Orym introducing Dorian to his family (as his partner instead of his friend). But I'm hopeful this'll get brought up in the finale.

Imodna wedding! Because Laura Bailey deserves to have three weddings one-shot.

More Unseelie stuff! Idk, I feel like there was still more to do wrt Fearne & the Feys.

I'm hoping for a moment with Imogen and her parents in the finale. It's really the end of a big journey for Liliana, but there's another journey to start, about rebuilding (or trying to rebuild) those relationships that got affected by her search for answers. There's a "back from the war" vibe here, and I want to see it.

VM got some pre-campaign comics, M9 got some individual character origins comics, BH also deserves some comics! But what type? I'm not sure how I'd feel if it was exactly as what M9 got, so I'm hoping they'll get some original ideas within the CR crew!

Last (for now) but not least, when is Chetney finally going to die?

[utilitycaster]

Is there a place of no return you wish you could go back to answer say no stop this is a bad idea? For me, it was the 33 - 34. Either Orym should have stayed dead, or Matt should have put his foot down when Liam suggested calling Keyleth. Or why even have Keyleth be Ok with going to whitestone? If it has to be VM related it could have been Juniper. She's a cleric, she can be known by Orym. But yeah everything about Whitestone, C1 VM and how that all happened I would tell them bad idea

I mean, my initial point was that this should have had a session zero. Laudna's concept should have been drastically reworked, it might have been wise to have had Orym a little more detached from Vox Machina (Ashari from a different tribe would have done the trick), and Laura and Ashley should have been told they'd be in a particularly central and decision-heavy role and given an option to turn it down at absolute minimum; I'd also have possibly asked Travis if he'd be willing to play a person with ties to Marquet even if he'd spent time elsewhere and frankly this also might have been a good idea with Laudna. I would also require higher INT scores and that the Marquet-based characters have some understanding of the Apex War, and I'd ask everyone to think about how their character feels about the gods and weave that into their backstory and work with them if it doesn't fit into the worldbuilding.

However, assuming the party we have I agree that probably the biggest misstep was that Matt should have made Keyleth unavailable to answer the call from Orym, forcing the party to use Jiana. This brings them back to Jrusar, removes their early ties to Whitestone, forces the Delilah story into the forefront so it actually has to be dealt with, gives them a reason to get much more involved with both the Vanguard (via Jiana) and spend more time learning about the plot from Eshteross and the Starpoint Conservatory (particularly making it a great opportunity to learn about the Apex War), and even could have put them physically present during Otohan's confrontation with Eshteross. From there I genuinely think Delilah actually being a major problem that they had to deal with would have done a ton of work in terms of character development and dealing with their problems, and the party having much more information about the world around them and having a stronger connection to a place and its people would have done a MOUNTAIN of work for the rest of the campaign. It's even possible Eshteross could have survived with their assistance in a second Otohan fight, which would mean they would have had the airship the whole time as a home base (since they couldn't have crashed it), which would have given them downtime in the form of travel rather than being ferried around by Keyleth due to having no other options, and would have served as bonding time. Matt admitted in a 4SD he didn't expect them to call on Keyleth (which is WILD to me) but literally he should have said no. I don't know for sure if this is how he envisioned the early campaign going but I would not be surprised if it was.

[chiasaaa]

— the night is yours

itoshi sae x f! reader

summary: your niece from belgium visits you in madrid to interview your boyfriend for her academic paper.

warning: english is not my first language. apologies for any grammatical or spelling errors.

— when you told sae to vacate his saturday for you, he expected something planned for both of you is up in play. true enough, there is a plan. it’s just far from what he expected it to be.

he sits on the single recliner in your shared living room, distant eyes staring right through the soul of your poor cowering niece. sae always despised interviews—always viewed it as people trying to dissect the information they want to manipulate for themselves right out of his system. it’s uncanny.

sae already bears with the fame by giving short single responses whenever a match ends and he’s declared the most valuable player of his time (which happens all the time), and he absolutely despises every second of it. it’s every second wasted when he could be celebrating his win with you instead. he had no idea how you managed to convince him to participate in your niece’s little project, yet there he was.

maybe the tea you coaxed him with proved effective, after all. that, and a little something you promised him for when the interview’s finished and you have your home alone for yourselves.

he must love you very much, is what goes on in his mind as he watched your niece scramble through the sheets of paper she had prepared for this day.

“hey,” he called out to her softly, causing her to pause from her anxious squirming. “it’s alright. take your time.”

though it was nothing special, he saw how his assurance helped her relax. she nods by a tad bit, then stacked her papers together neatly. unbeknownst to the two, you’ve been watching through the corner of your eyes as you face them sideways on the counter stool, pretending to work on the designs your team had previously come up with for approval.

your niece isn’t that far from your age, currently 15 years old. a gap of three years has always been quite weird as it stands between ‘we’re old enough to view life differently’ and ‘but we’re young enough to get along well’. for someone like sae, however, it’s a completely different story. he’s like an old man stuck in a young player’s body. people normally find it hard to get along with him. and you know that he gives zero fucks about anyone.

however, one thing you love about him is that he tries. he will always try if it means being closer to your family. quite the awkward fellow he can be, but it becomes a part of his charm at some point. even your father, who had long been against you dating, grew fond of him. now that you see him trying his best to make your niece comfortable with him, you could only quietly fawn over the sight.

he always gives you reasons to fall in love everyday—not like he still has to.

you have already loved him for him.

you have never been so lucky.

“as an athlete, of course it’s important for us to maintain a healthy balanced diet because—“ you snapped out of your own world when sae’s voice penetrated through your ears in a gentle tone. your eyes glided back to his direction, finding him talking through a clipped mic on his shirt. they finally proceeded with the interview proper after fifteen minutes of preparing, and he’s as collected as ever.

though, this is the first time you’ve ever heard him respond to an interview so coherently. as if he made an effort to put his answers together well enough for your niece to extract useful information. and as he was going through with the interview, he caught a glance of you watching.

you smiled, so sweetly and gratefully that it had him pause for a moment as well. sae knew what you were telling him through your honey-dipped eyes. he didn’t need you to tell him, just as much as you didn’t need him to tell you when he sent the faintest smile back.

when the interview was over, you and sae walked your niece out the porch.

“thank you for today, auntie!” she hugged you tight, grateful for making the interview possible in the first place. she was only ever able to pursue the topic she wanted because of you connections, after all.

“no worries, hija. tell you mom to drop you off again same time tomorrow, yeah? sae and i plan to take you around the city before you fly back home.”

“really? thank you!” she then turns to sae. “thank you too, uncle sae! i’ll see you guys tomorrow!”

and so she runs off to the taxi cab where her mother waits, taking them home as soon as she enters. you and sae stay by the porch until they’re out of sight, with sae still stunned that your niece finally called him uncle for the first time in the three years you’ve acquainted them.

“looks like you’re promoted, uncle sae.” you tease, smirking as he closed the door after you entered. “does this call for a congratulations?”

he rolls his eyes. of course, the ever so teasing you will make a big deal out of it. though, he can’t blame you. he has to admit that it had him a little excited to feel part of your family.

“maybe it does,” he comes forward and gently tugged you close by the waist, “don’t act like i forgot about your promise to me, hermosa.”

chuckling, you wrapped your arms loosely around his neck and teased him with a peck on his lips. “oh, i didn’t.” you leaned closer until your lips hovered by his ear. “and you have permission to do what you want with me for the rest of the night, mi guapo.”

that was all he needed to hear, and you’re in for yet another sleepless night filled with blissful memories.

[yesimwriting]

omg irl (personally) i would get so fed up with armand like... nothing's ever straightforward with you... there he goesss with his ulterior motives.

I love how you describe Louis' worry in the latest chapter, because as anon requested, it is the crashout of all crashouts BUT its so sublty written and kept between the lines (big kudos to you) because Louis is not burning and killing 20% of the vampiric population like he did in paris BUT there are hints/implication present that he absolutely would do something much worse to protect and/or avenge bestie reader.

And it really shows during the part after the phonecall when he's thinking to himself. Him repeating Josh's name like a mantra??? Girl his last victim was in the year 2000 but im sure he's willing make sure josh will never use both of his wrists to operate a car ever again lmao. Also, being an english speaking foreigner, i'm usually able to keep my accent at bay but i know damn well that Nola accent was HEARD through that damn phone. This reminds me of that older brother vibe ask of yours you wrote before. We all know he booked a flight arriving after sunset so he can personally drive and pick her up from the airport. Also stand as close as possible by the arrivals so she doesn't need to carry her luggage with a broken wrist.

His worry over the medication that makes her drowsy??? Omg Louis loves her so much its sickening what the hell. I need to see Daniel catching bestie in 4k, casually snoozing peacefully with Louis bc she feels so safe and i need daniel to snap a picture to blackmail louis with it later. (the 70 year old senior is louis younger brother confirmed by jacob anderson himself lmao)

The one hundred thousand over set price for her painting reference???? So Louis doesn't even know, I wonder where armand is keeping the painting. I also wonder what his intentions are with reader. Like... what are his feelings, is his interest romantic, platonic, sexual or something completely different.

Now bestie reader is so gen z and i know for a fact the people in this generation will see bullshit from miles away. (we've been trained by social media) I love the idea of armand being the manipulative gremlin that he is and reader just seeing straight through it. She's a baddie we know damn well she will CLOCK HIM the second he tries to shift the playing field. And I know he'll like it too. Just look at him and Daniel. (rip non book readers, devils minion will give you whiplash)

SIDE NOTE: i love the moment in the show when armand is retelling his story of the trial in paris and Daniel questioning how tf a five hundred year old ancient did not have the ability to stop his own coven. Daniel's smug face and the deadpan "Or what?". Daniel GO GET HIS ASS.

Daniel and reader would get along so well.

side note nr 2: i apologize for the bomb i just dropped in your inbox.

omg what a fun ask <33

i love armand, but in real life i'd be so over the theatrics of it all 😭 like yes you're playing chess and we're all playing checkers we get it!! no one will think you're less mysterious if you just answer the question omg

thank you for mentioning the louis thing! i'm glad you liked how i set it up bc i wanted his worry/frustration to be apparent but i still wanted it to feel in character. ik he's not opposed to greater crash outs (like the paris thing for my girl claudia ✊) but i also think that even when he's upset he understands time and place to an extent. like claudia's very intentional killers deserve worse than a guy who has done something relatively minor to reader on accident. however, it's still important that he very much would do the same if not worse for bestie reader if something actually bad happened to her, so i'm glad you read it that way!!

the josh thing pls 😭 i almost didn't have bestie reader give the guy a name bc she knew how he'd react. also i think that while louis isn't chill with murder, knowing that it'd be so easy to hurt someone who he thinks deserves it isn't an easily dismissible thought. i don't think he's jumping to hurt/kill everyone that's wronged bestie reader, but i do think it's an intrusive thought. the wrist thing 😭 i can see louis reacting like that if he was right there, but i feel like louis would only plan out violence if someone seriously/intentionally hurt reader.

this is going to sound off topic, but bare with me for a second. i haven't delved into this yet, but friendships can be just as complicated as romantic relationships, and while i'm committed to louis and bestie reader always being completely non-toxic, that doesn't mean their dynamic is simple. a major thing that complicates their relationship is the way that they worry over the way the other perceives them.

bestie is worried that louis perceives her as fragile and therefore fleeting and unworthy of long term attention. she's scared of being seen as a hindrance and as a burden. louis is worried that one day everything will click for bestie reader and she'll realize that he's a monster. so he's doing all he can to not demonstrate violence in front of her.

anyways, all this to say that he's not going around attacking people partially bc of his values but also bc he doesn't want her to associate violence with him.

also, total side note but this dynamic is actually what leads to reader and armand bonding. louis loves her so much and the thought of losing her is so distressing that sometimes he censors himself a little too much or treats reader like she's extremely fragile. armand doesn't. yes, this is because it's easier to risk losing someone that isn't the your emotional support human, but also bc he genuinely thinks she's capable of handling it. he'll tell her every (non-incriminating) vampire story ever in full, gory detail and reader is fascinated.

the accent comment is killing me 😭 ik that nola accent was HEAVY over the phone. reader felt those words in her soul.

and yes he’s AT that airport and he’s happy about it too lol.

also yes louis loves her sm 😭. ofc he was worried about her all alone on drowsy medication. that's the light of his life! what's he supposed to do if something happens to her? go back to only talking to his companion and occasionally a journalist accidentally moonlighting as a divorce lawyer??

also omg daniel and reader interactions are a need!! daniel being described as louis's younger brother is so important to me here omg. i love daniel and louis's relationship sm, and i just know daniel is ready for someone else with common sense to be sitting in. daniel looks at bestie reader like that one meme that's like 'you're the only bitch in the house i ever respected'.

the picture concept is so cute 😭 might have to write that into a scene bc i can see daniel seeing louis and reader asleep and at first being like ? and then taking the picture to bring it up later.

YES THE PAINTING REFERENCE i'm so glad you noticed!! i was so excited for it lol. i mentioned this in another post briefly, but i think armand's lowkey disgusted with himself for purchasing the painting bc it's a physical representation of the fact that he finds reader interesting. even before louis, before he knew her, he found something about her interesting, and bc he thinks reader has dismissed him, he wants to pretend that he's never thought about her at all.

i don't want to spoil where the painting is (it's not a major spoiler lol) but armand still has it and it is somewhere secret.

omg armand's intentions with bestie reader 😭!! i'm going to give you a short answer and then a long answer bc his feelings for her evolve slowly.

short answer: he has a really intense hate-crush on her. she's so beloved and perfect and basically the sun personified. he wants to consume her soul, he wants her to not exist, he wants her live forever, he wants her, he wants her to be just as obsessed with him so that he can calm down. she's an affliction. she's a blessing. he's going through it.

long answer: at first, he resents her bc she's taking up all of louis's attention and love. then, he starts to wonder what is so perfect and wonderful about her that has louis absolutely enraptured by her existence. then, he tries to win her over for his pride, and then..well...it spirals.

there's also the underlying benefits of getting reader to care more about him than louis bc then louis can't leave him without losing reader (most delusional and unrealistic part of his thought process tbh).

as far as end goals, he's a little lost bc all of this was an accident <3. it gets to a point where louis and reader are so intertwined, armand thinks he deserves to be with both of them. he's entitled to a matching set.

bestie reader's gen-z-ness being the reason she can see through everything armand says 😭. omg. in my head, she likes louis and armand together so when she realizes something is up she's like oh no. bc she obviously has to tell louis but she's not happy about it. lowkey on a subconscious level she doesn't want to not have armand in her life so she's like :(.

still calls him out tho bc she's loyal and also bc his lies are so egregious it's hard not to. i can picture her being lowkey sneaky when armand mentions saving louis, like feigning confusion and asking something like "just so i'm clear, isn't lestat also technically a powerful vampire? and wasn't he also in the building?" just to start something but also as a way of sending louis subliminal messages to lock in and open his eyes.

also i can see daniel realizing bestie reader knows something is up and looking at louis and being like "come on...i know, armand knows, even the girl that was really happy to be talking two minutes ago and now can't stop staring at the floor knows..." 😭

omg and armand liking being called out. this is for sure when his obsession with reader peaks. also, this hasn't come up yet, but i picture bestie reader as being very perceptive and when she argues with armand over small things she accidentally clocks him with next level reads that she'll never know how accurate they are. i'm talking reads so accurate, louis is immediately stepping in between them bc he thinks it's so over for her just for armand to let it go. (might need to write a drabble featuring this)

armand's love language to reader is not killing or torturing her for calling him out. it gets to a point where louis is like ? girl i've seen you kill people for implying what she just directly said?? if louis ever notices that something is going on with armand in relation to bestie reader it's bc of a suspicious lack of attempts to physically hurt her fr.

(also total side note, but bc you mentioned devil's minion, i just needed to say i love devil's minion era sm.)

omg in response to your side note, i LOVED that moment so much. "or what?" had me gagged. on the GROUND fr.

daniel and reader would get along so well. two divas coming together to maximize their joint slay. they're sitting around the penthouse giggling over the vampire drama like they're the immortal ones 😭.

also,, never apologize for sending me a long ask!! i'm currently very hyperfixated on iwtv and this was so fun for me! if anything, i'm sorry for how long this response was 😭💗

[pineappleliar]

I gotta go crazy talking about the Abnormalities/Distortion dichotomy for a bit, cause its been spinning around in my mind as I make my way through Lob Corp/Limbus. Also I’ve only got like 30 minutes in Ruina so I probably have holes in my knowledge even if I know LoR’s general plot.

Limbus makes two thinks clear about the two; that these entities have a distinct ‘feel’ from each other, and that Abnormalities are the end state for a Distortion. Beyond that we know a few traits exclusive to Abnormalities; namely that they are immortal, and can produce Enkaphalin. As well, both have Carmen as a key element in their creation, although I’m not sure if she is a requirement, or just the most common means available.

you see, before learning that evolution thing in the most recent Intervallo I had assumed the two were parallel creations through cogito, the main difference being the willingness of the individual being changed in the process. Abnormalities are formed from unwilling subjects, and Distortions, for all their turmoil, are choosing to become said creatures. The fact that a Distortion is an earlier state of an Abno changes things, though, as it brings into question something that’s bugged me about Lob Corp for a bit now.

Simply put, too many of the Abnos in the Corporation are clerly reflecting specifically the anxieties of Ayin (and Carmen) to be ignored. The birds are the three parts of the Head, Whitenight is the false prophet nature of the corp if they never actually complete the tree, Bloodbath is here, and my favorite the Black Swan who suspiciously has a backstory where a girl named Elijah becomes sick due to contamination and melts in front of someone. There’s more than that, but the point in these aren’t the concerns of the people who were used as the base for these Abnos; they’re the concerns of the Manager specifically being plastered on top of someone else.

So how does that work?

I think about the Time Ripper distortion here, and how its brought up in the Intervallo. One of the main highlights of its narrative is in how the Distortion itself has begun to contradict its own thesis statement for existing; rather than sharing its time equally, certain parts hog the time and recreate that disparity. And I think that is relevant because it brings up the question of what happens to a Distortion who can’t even fulfill the desire they distorted for?

Well, they become an abnormality.

It provides something akin to an answer to the Lob Corp question, because it gives a means to bypass the Distortion phase entirely by just overwriting said person’s goals out the gate. Alternatively, the absence of a responsive Carmen could be the issue; she does provide a particular sense of direction to those who do Distort, so it could be without her around things were more likely to spiral off into something without any direction. Ugh but how do the Peccatula factor into this…

Anyways really looking forward to playing Library of Ruina and realizing everything I put here is comically wrong.

[getaapologist]

The Tension and the Terror..............Part V

Pairing: Emperor Geta x OFC (extremely loosely, character is named but otherwise not described besides hair length in a later part)

Summary: Geta has concerns. He meets with Macrinus to discuss Letha. Macrinus knows he's going to get what he wants.

Warnings: Suggestions of period-typical treatment of women, 18+ only

Word Count: 2.8k

Part 5 of 13?

[ Part IV ]

Series Masterlist

A/N: This is probably, maybe, the most Macrinus we'll have in a single part. Thank you Denzel for portraying Macrinus as you did. He's just so charming!

“You look horrible,” Caracalla commented. He sat at the long table, picking at the spread of fruits and other things, occasionally tossing something to Dondus.

Upon getting dressed the guard outside Letha’s  door had led her here, to a large dining table containing various fruits and even some bread, a reasonable portion compared to the excess she’d been exposed to over the last few days. It seemed she would be breaking her fast with the Emperors now. She definitely preferred it over the heavy stares of Macrinus’s gladiators as she stood off to the side in their dusty dining hall, munching on a scrap of bread.

“You’ll have to forgive me, your majesty, my head is still spinning,” she confessed, sinking into one of the dining chairs on the opposite side, waiting for her head to catch up with the movement.

Caracalla laughed. “Did my brother give you too much?”

At the mention of his brother, Letha’s cheeks flushed. 

She could still vividly picture the way Geta looked that morning when he’d followed the healer into her room. When he asked her how she felt his voice was a bit lower than usual. He wasn’t all made up yet, and the robe he wore wasn’t as ornate or decorative as anything she’d seen him in before. And startlingly, he lacked the laurels he and his brother wore. He looked tired, but ordinary. Human. The guard must have roused him from sleep. The idea of it made her heartbeat quicken.

“I don’t know that there’s a right amount,” she sighed, her head still pounding.

“Sure there is,” he smiled. He looked up past her and his smile grew wider. “Ah, speaking of people looking horrible, brother,” Caracalla joked, falling into a fit of giggles under Geta’s intense stare.

The chair beside Letha was pulled out and Geta sat, still clad in only a robe, one of his hands holding it closed. A sigh left him as he allowed himself to be still for a moment, the first moment since he’d been roused from sleep. 

“Are you okay?” Letha asked, watching him. His eyes were shut, his head leaned back against the chair. Her eyes trailed down his pale neck as he swallowed, steeling himself before he relaxed, sitting up straighter. His eyes met Letha’s, catching her staring.

“Fine,” he assured her, though his terse tone was far from reassuring. He reached across the table and picked up a shiny apple, staring down at it as if uncertain if he wanted to eat it or not.

“What my brother means to say is no,” Caracalla grinned. Geta’s eyes darted up to stare down his brother. But Caracalla continued, undaunted. “He couldn’t sleep, surely, probably still thinking about the–”

“Brother,” Geta warned. 

“You’re no fun,” Caracalla sighed, backing down. His eyes flitted over to Letha and his smile returned. “I know you got stabbed and all, but you’ll still join us today, right?”

“I-If you want me to, your majesty,” she answered. Caracalla was quite different from his brother. He seemed to be good at reading people. His brother, anyway. Letha wondered how he’d picked up such a skill.

“I do,” Caracalla confirmed, getting to his feet. “You can sit with me,” he grinned, leaving the table before anyone could dissuade him. This was it, this was what Macrinus wanted. But why did it feel so off-putting?

The room grew quiet in the absence of the more chaotic brother. Letha finally allowed herself to pluck a grape from the stem, turning her cheek to Geta as she ate it. Why had he sat so close? She could hear him breathing, it was so quiet. 

“You protected us,” Geta finally acknowledged. The apple sat in front of him on the table, untouched. 

“No one else was doing anything,” she answered, plucking another grape free.

He nodded. “A severe lapse, one I’ve been assured won’t happen again.”

“Good.” She ate the sweet grape, and then another.

“Where did you get a knife from?” he questioned, his ringless fingers moving the apple around on the table top. 

“I kept one in my dress. I had a pocket where I hid it,” she explained.

That seemed to alarm him. “Did you have it that night?” He didn’t have to specify, she knew which night he was referring to. The only other night. So he did remember.

She met his eyes, a cautious smile she couldn’t hide spreading across her face. “Yes.”

“Who are you to Macrinus, really?” He seemed genuinely curious, if not a little suspicious. “You aren’t bedding him, or so you say–”

“—I’m not,” she insisted.

“—and you aren’t a maid, far from it. I’ve seen you fend off a man almost twice your size, and you know exactly where to cut a man to kill him quickly. So, who are you?”

She eyed him warily, unsure of how much or how little to tell him. Something about him gave her the impression that he would appreciate honesty. “My brother taught me how to look after myself,” she explained. He was probably scolding her all the way from Elysium, calling her reckless, furious at the warmth she felt at the sight of a Roman Emperor. 

“And Macrinus bought me from one of your generals.” After they killed my family, she wanted to say. She didn’t have to, the look in his eyes implying that he seemed to understand that much. Her anger and hurt was beginning to return. “He started bringing me out with him, for his safety.”

He seemed concerned, and she couldn’t blame him. But she had defended them from a threat. If she truly wanted them dead, she could argue, she wouldn’t have intervened.

“Well, the city of Rome thanks you, Letha,” he said, getting to his feet. Any familiarity she had experienced with him was gone, it was all formal. “You will be honored once you are feeling better.” The way he kept his eyes off hers, the stiff way he spoke to her now, it ate at her. He was so hot and cold, one moment entirely too comfortable with her, and now he was the Emperor, despite not wearing the crown. She decided immediately that she much preferred the man.

“Thank you, Emperor,” she replied, echoing his formality.

He noticed, his eyes locking in on hers for a moment. “I will send some of our maids to see to your needs. If you require anything further, just ask.”

“I want to speak with Macrinus,” she blurted out, trying to catch Geta before he slipped out of the room.

“I will let him know.” And with that, he was gone.

Macrinus studied the busts adorning the alcoves that were interspersed along the hallway, imagining his own visage chipped out of marble, sitting on a pedestal as proudly as these men, these tyrants. No, he was too good for that. Instead, he would take his time here, some days from now, and slowly tip them over, one by one, and get great satisfaction as the faces splintered and cracked on the floor.

“Macrinus,” Geta greeted, very much the image of a magnanimous god in his elaborate clothes and shining gold jewels. Macrinus could see the youth in his features, could see him for what he truly was. Not a god, nor an Emperor. Just a boy, a boy given the reins to a raging, bloodthirsty empire with one instruction. Grow, spread like a disease. Though it seems the twins were never taught when to cut it off.

Macrinus could see traces of his father in him. It was Severus’s death that put life back into Macrinus’s dreams. A coup against Septimius Severus? It would never be successful. But after his passing, his fledgling offspring given joint-ownership of the throne? Macrinus dared to dream again.

“Emperor,” he greeted. “Thank you for summoning me. I was so worried about Letha. I hope she has behaved herself.”

Geta quirked an eyebrow. “She’s been a perfect guest.” Macrinus could tell the man had a million questions on the tip of his tongue, but he knew better than to show such latent curiosity. “And besides the discomfort, she seems to be just fine.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful news. I was hoping I might speak with her?” Macrinus tried to read Geta's expression. Hesitance. 

“I did want to ask something of you, while you’re here,” Geta sidestepped Macrinus’s request. 

“Sure, Emperor, anything,” Macrinus answered, hoping to sound a bit like Thraex, with his preening and fawning over the twins. 

“My brother, understandably, has been shaken by this… this attempt on his life,” Geta began, turning one of his rings repeatedly. “And I do believe he would feel better if your Letha would stay near, at least for a little while.”

“Emperor Caracalla?” Macrinus questioned, eyes falling to the way Geta’s hands fidgeted. Not just Caracalla.

“Yes,” he confirmed, leaning closer to Macrinus. “But I must confess I have questions I would ask you before I feel comfortable leaving my brother alone with her.”

“Of course, your majesty, I am an open book. What would you like to know?” Macrinus offered, smiling.

“Would you join me in my study?” Geta asked, gesturing behind him.

“I would love to,” Macrinus beamed, clasping his hands together. Geta smiled, abandoning the rings and turning, leading Macrinus through the palatial estate.

Macrinus would be loath to admit it, but he much preferred the Roman style of subterfuge. He would be content to sit back and watch his plans fall into place around him. He yearned for success more than any lover. He hadn’t been searching for his falcon, his shrike, but there she was. Shining brilliantly even under the muck and grime. He paid twice as much as he told himself his limit had been. That certain fury he always sought was swirling in her eyes. The flurry of ideas on how he could wield it made him feel supremely confident that he’d won out on the deal.

The general hadn’t offered her up for sale. As the prisoners were paraded past on the docks, Macrinus noticed the woman being pushed along, her hands bound behind her, looking very much like a ruined princess. A princess that had spent days in the hold of a Roman ship, surely. Her torn dress indicated a comfortable life, but the way her eyes were set in a fixed stare, carved from granite, seemed to speak to her resolve. A quiet sort of anger. 

She was separated and Macrinus suspected he knew why. His suspicions were confirmed when General Plautianus strode past, reaching out to drag her out of line and up past the other men. She fought every step with all she had. The men on the docks were forgotten. She had what Macrinus was looking for.

He followed General Plautianus, soon catching up with him. The princess’s eyes fell on him and he could feel the heat of her revulsion at his gaze. 

“General,” Macrinus greeted. 

“Ah, Macrinus, not waiting for the arena today? We don’t usually see you down here at the docks.” As the General turned to face Macrinus, the woman hidden by his broad shoulders, Macrinus nearly recoiled. There was an angry red line that stretched from the end of his right brow to the back of his head, and where it would’ve intersected his ear, it was gone. The top of the man’s ear was gone. “It’s nothing,” the General spoke, watching Macrinus’s eyes trace over the wound.

“Of course,” Macrinus looked away from the wound, beginning to put two and two together. “You’ve weathered far worse,” he praised, earning a laugh from the General. “A gift?” Macrinus questioned, gesturing to the hidden woman.

“I thought I might tame her for myself, but I’m starting to think she’s more trouble than she’s worth,” the General admitted, gesturing to the wound. 

Interesting, Macrinus mused. 

“I’m wondering if I might be able to take her off your hands, then,” Macrinus suggested. “It would be a nice change of pace.”

“She’s too highborn for fighting,” the General smirked.

“Who said anything about fighting?” Macrinus joked, laughing with the General. 

He could see her fighting the General’s grip, her eyes narrowed at him as if she wanted to kill him. Perfect.

“Name your price,” Macrinus spoke, growing serious.

The General’s smile began to fade. “Gladiatrices have been outlawed,” he warned Macrinus.

“So I am aware,” Macrinus answered. “Name your price.”

“Ten thousand,” the General offered, a challenge.

“What would the Senators say about you kidnapping one of Rome’s new subjects?” Macrinus accused. 

“Eight.”

“There could be charges,” Macrinus insinuated, clasping his hands together.

The General frowned deeply. “Five.”

Macrinus smiled. “Viggo!” he called out. Viggo appeared, confusion on his face. “Please take this poor girl. She will be coming back with us,” Macrinus explained. He drew out a pouch and counted out some coins, dropping them into the palm of the General. “Consider it a down payment. I’ll send someone along with the rest this evening. I don’t usually do my trading at the docks,” he explained.

The General grunted and nodded, pocketing the gold. His grip on the woman lessened, and he seemed truly relieved to be handing her off to Viggo. She would be someone else’s problem now.

“Relax!” Viggo pleaded, gripping her upper arms tightly to keep her from running off. 

“Always a pleasure,” Macrinus nodded. He turned and walked back to their waiting cart, smiling at the sound of Viggo struggling with her. 

“Where is she from?” Geta asked, setting the glass down in front of Macrinus. 

“She was with General Plautianus at the docks, so I’d say it’s safe to assume from wherever you sent him, your majesty.”

“Please, we have no need for formality,” Geta insisted, taking a seat at the table across from Macrinus, his own glass on the table before him.

“Of course,” Macrinus nodded.

“And she is now your… guard?”

Macrinus chuckled. “She is quite good at getting one over on men who underestimate her,” he warned. Geta lifted an eyebrow. “She broke the arm of one of my better prospects,” Macrinus explained. Geta leaned forward, his glass abandoned. “He might have been a bit too handsy,” he excused. “She’s quite observant. And who would guess she was dangerous?” Macrinus grinned. “It seemed like the perfect arrangement to me.”

“She was a prisoner, then? But I thought…”

“Oh, no, she was in the custody of General Plautianus. I guess she injured him and he took special offense to that. I did try to warn him of how it might look.” Macrinus took a sip of the sweet wine, always towing the line, baiting the hook. It’s not like Geta made it hard. Macrinus knew it from the moment he’d stood there in the box, staring down at Letha as if she held all his secrets.

“General Plautianus? She took his ear?” Geta asked, more than a little surprised. 

“That she did,” Macrinus confirmed. “Despite that, she seemed like she could be reasoned with.”

Geta sat back, absorbing the information. 

“I must say, I did not expect her to fend off that assassin,” Macrinus spoke, growing more serious. “I am grateful though, losing either of you would be a very dark day for Rome.”

Geta watched Macrinus, taking a sip from his glass. “I, too, am grateful for her intervention. Tegula has assured me this will not happen again.”

“Wasn’t it one of his men? He wore their armor.”

Geta nodded. “It was. They found a large sum of gold stashed in his home. We do not know yet who paid him, but we expect there will be a reprisal.”

“And you want Letha.”

“I need her with my brother. If she is able to be trusted, I would like her to keep him safe from any other rogue Praetorians. For if there was one, there will likely be another.” Geta downed the rest of the wine, setting the empty glass on the table. “I am no fool, we do not inspire the same degree of loyalty that my father did.”

Macrinus wanted to grin. He didn’t. “It is always difficult, living up to a father’s reputation.”

“I don’t wish to be anything like him,” Geta admitted, meeting Macrinus’s eyes. “He has left us rudderless.”

“Well, Geta, If I may be so bold,” Macrinus spoke, leaning across the table. Geta mirrored him. “I could offer you some guidance. Only if you wanted it, of course,” he smiled.

He could see Geta’s trust in him blossoming. “I would love to hear it.”

“I would first suggest raising the wages of your guards. It might make them think twice before accepting another bribe.”

Geta nodded. “Yes, yes I see how that could benefit us.”

“And you can have Letha, if it would give you peace.” Macrinus chose his words carefully. He watched Geta’s every move, every blink.

A smile threatened to spread across his face but he tamped it down. “I do think it would, Macrinus, thank you.”

“A gift, Geta, to you. A token of our new friendship?”

“Friendship. Yes.” Geta finally allowed himself a smile. “Please, accompany us to the Colosseum today?”

“It would be an honor.” Macrinus mirrored Geta’s smile.

Perfect. Just as planned.

[ Part VI ]

[nalyra-dreaming]

Now I understand why people were saying they should have started with Lestat’s backstory or intertwined Louis’ and Lestat’s stories at the same time.

(Is this because of the confusion for some people as to the truth?)

A while ago there were asks re the show and Christopher's original idea (and script) to start with TVL... this show spent forever in pre-production hell

but I think @cbrownjc put it very succinctly, when she said that it would not have worked structurally:

The thing is - "The Vampire Lestat" is, and always was, an answer to Louis. It just would not have worked in any kind of captivating arc to start there and lay it all out.

And the show does an awesome job!!! They gave both Louis and Armand a lot more depth and details, and incentive already, not flattening them to "liar" only.

But we did not get to see the (whole) truth either, and there were statements on this prior to the show

and yet there are people who just... choose to ignore that, and prefer to hurl accusations instead. *shrugs*