#than i SHOULD just kill myself right? there are worse problems in the world and if i react like thsi to these then i csnt handle anything

[critterchitters-closedcaptions]

trying to decipher if the overwhelming dread & Thoughts are cause of the state of the world or cause i need a shower.

vent post in the tags. idk. do whatever 👍

[georgiapeach30513]

With Your Touch, Part 1

Summary: You were supposed to be living a normal life. Perfect boyfriend, just graduated college, and ready to start your new life. Until you met him. Brooding and imposing unless his daughter is around. You knew nothing about babies, but he knew less. Tension builds, feelings flare up, but are they just because he looks extremely sexy when he's soft? Could it be because you are falling for this princess of a baby girl before him? Is it because when he's in town you're too close? The money is good, and yet his attention is better.

Pairings: Lloyd Hansen X Reader

Rating: mild

Warnings:  language, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 4.1K

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

Lloyd scowls as he watches the scene in front of him. The crease between his brows is extra deep. He hates working in the field almost as much as he hates watching it. Idiots. He was surrounded by incompetent idiots.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” His fist slams on the table. How many shots have to be fired before they secure their target. “He’s right fucking there! Shoot his ass!”

“Lloyd,” a timid man says behind him, and Lloyd’s eyes never leave the monitors. “Mr. Hansen?”

“I don’t want to do this myself, but I fucking will! Levinson, get ready to go!” More rounds of bullets, and still the target was missed. “What the fuck is this?”

“Lloyd!”

His body goes rigid as he turns to look at the small man who is shivering. Eyes downcast to the floor so he doesn’t look at the towering man. “Why the hell are you addressing me?”

“We have a problem.”

“No, shit, Sherlock. I have two teams of mercenaries after one target, and he’s not been shot. What the fuck else could be wrong?” He leans over a bit looking at the man. “Well?”

“Who the hell brought a baby?” Ari asks, staring down at a pitiful little carrier. An envelope beside the small bundle, and her bright green eyes stare up at the large man. “This isn’t bring your daughter to work day,” her face cracks a moment as she searches his face. Lips puckering out before a scream radiates through the makeshift office. “Make it stop!”

“Where the fuck did a baby come from?” Lloyd snaps a finger at another man to take over the original issue at hand. He just needs the target killed, and he can go home for a bit. “What is this?”

Ari’s hands slap on the side of his head covering his ears, but his foot tilts the carrier to rock it a bit, but still she wails. Seeing how no one attempts to help out, or get the baby to stop, Lloyd assumes this is something he’s going to have to take care of. What else was new? Rolling his eyes in annoyance, he leans down to grab up the letter. Crumpling it up before looking down at the baby. “Mother fucker.”

Your fingers run over the empty shelves in your dorm room. Graduation has finally happened, and now it is time to leave your mark on the world. Your father didn’t bother to show up for your graduation because why would he? He never showed up personally in your life. Not really. He always made sure that everything was paid for though. It could be worse, right?

You try not to complain about your father, or your family. You had more than most and should be grateful. But then some people had attention. Sighing, you grab up your bag, and look towards the door.

“Chase,” whispering, you walk over to him, and lay your head on his chest. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I don’t know why you feel so attached to this dorm room, honey.”

“Because it was my home,” you’re sure he didn’t fully understand, which was okay, you never bothered to explain. You kept your family dynamics quiet. He never asked why you were so quick to visit with his family for the holiday, just enjoyed you being there.

His warm arms wrap around you, and he holds you in a tight embrace. He wasn’t quite comfort, but he is sweet. He means well, and did what he could for the information that you provided to him. But this dorm room was the closet you had to a home. You had good memories here. Friends that were more like family, and now it’s gone.

You groan when the stupid sound of your absent father’s ringtone sounds off. Maybe he is actually calling to congratulate you for wasting his money on a degree that he deemed pointless. He. It probably wouldn’t matter what you did, it’d never be good enough for him.

“You gonna get that?”

“Do I have to?” You complain looking up at Chase. His mouth lifts to the side, and he nods his head. He is right. You should talk to him and quit hiding. You didn’t know what he was going to say or do. “I’ll be waiting in the car.”

“So the kid is yours?” Ari looks down at the car seat, watching the little baby cry, no one attempting to soothe or comfort her. Lloyd squats down and rubs his thumb over her cheek, and she struggles to breathe from her tears. “Are you going to hold it?”

“Can you stop referring to my daughter like she’s a thing?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Ari answers sarcastically. “Then pick her up. What is her name?”

“Clara told me to name her. She didn’t bother naming her. What…what do I do?” He looks up at his friend, showing the tiniest bit of emotion. “I don’t know anything about babies.”

“Start by holding her.”

“You hold her,” Lloyd is a lot of things but nurturing is far from one of them. He was a man that didn’t make mistakes, but clearly, he messed up somewhere. Of all the women he had been with only one was he stupid enough to knock up. But the way Lloyd is staring at her would suggest he almost wanted a baby.

“This is so fuck…this is so stupid. Clean up your mouth. She isn’t old enough to talk yet, but she will be,” Ari gets down to his knees, starting to remove the straps over her body. “She’s a pitiful little thing. Shh, girlie, you’re scaring your daddy before he’s properly got to look at you. There ya go,” he coos, holding the tiny girl up against his chest. Her cries soften a bit. He wonders when the last time she felt loved, because her body moves around feeling more of him.

“What’s wrong with her?” Both Ari and Lloyd’s noes turn up in disgust as they smell her. “She’s not been bathed?”

“That’s poop, Lloyd. We can’t have a baby here,” that is something Ari is certain of. Not only was this not a place for babies, he didn’t want to have to smell the baby smells.

“I didn’t ask for the baby. She was dropped on the mother fucking steps. Clara. I’ll kill that dumb trollop. Never trust desperate women. She doesn’t want money. She just didn’t want the baby. And I need her to have a name, so I’m not just calling her the baby. Ari, name her.”

“I’m not naming your spawn. She’s born of you, you name her. And my god, you gotta change this diaper, and figure out what you’re going to do in order for us to not have to deal with a baby like this. What the hell do you want?”

Lloyd turns to look at one of the analysts standing in the doorway. His thick rimmed glasses, and quiet demeanor made him one of Lloyd’s favorites. He was trustworthy, and smart. Quick. One of the few people Lloyd didn’t want to strangle. “Roman, what do you need? We’re dealing with someone.”

“You need an au pair.”

“What the hell is that?”

“It…it’s someone that will live in your home, and care for the child. They could teach them another language, and…”

“Sounds like a wife. Do I get to fuck them? Does she talk back to me?” Roman shakes his head no, wanting to say more, but doesn’t want to risk his job. He had the perfect person to help Lloyd with his little problem. “Where does one find an au pair?”

“I know someone that just recently graduated, and she speaks French. She has a degree in art history, and…”

“I need her at my house immediately,” Roman acts as if he’s about to say something until Lloyd cocks up a brow, “I will pay her handsomely.”

“You’re keeping the baby?” Ari’s answer comes in the form of Lloyd reaching towards the baby. Turning up his nose at the stench, but he holds her gently. Tenderly. He gives her a quick peck on her head. “He’s keeping the baby. Roman, call whoever. Sounds like the amount of money is not an issue.”

Staring up at the posh apartment buildings, and squeezing Chase’s hand, you wonder how you even got here. Your father didn’t do anything but give you money. You didn’t even know him. Didn’t know what he even did to make the money. And now you are taking orders from him. Allowed him to make you feel like shit for your education.

“You don’t have to listen to him,” Chase says calmly. Slipping his hand out of yours, he turns to look directly at you. “You’re a grown woman, you don’t have to listen to what daddy says.”

“Don’t call him that,” your father didn’t earn that name. That’s exactly what you called him, father. “I mean look at it, there could be worse places to live.”

“Yeah, and you’re caring for a child that isn’t yours. And where’s her parents? How often will you have this child?”

“I’m going to live with them.”

“That’s another thing, I don’t exactly like the idea that you live with them. Who are them?”

“It’s a need to know basis,” you mumble. Finally finding your footing you take a step forward. It was now or never and it seemed like it was going to be now. What did you actually have to lose? This was a guaranteed job. It’s not like you had to stay. The pay was great. And how hard could one baby be?

You were going into this job with a house, great pay, and it seemed somewhat cushy. “You’re just going to be giving another child a life without their parents.”

“And just think where I would have been without my nanny,” you spit out, feeling a bit more protective of a child that you haven't met. It wasn’t her fault anymore than it was yours. Children should be loved and taken care of, and that’s what you are going to do.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know you didn’t. You don’t have to go with me if you don’t approve,” sighing, Chase follows you as you walk into the building. Following the exact instructions you were given from your father. You didn’t know what you were walking into. It was just a job after all.

Neither you or Chase say another thing. He definitely could feel your irritation at the need to insert what he thought he knew about your life. Your life wasn’t horrible. You just didn’t have your parents. Especially not your father. He had a business. And whatever he did afforded you a charmed life.

Seems like this child was getting the same treatment. And if you could give her the life that your amazing nanny gave you, then you feel like you’re giving it back. You didn’t see yourself as a teacher, but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. And it was just one small baby. Eventually she would be going to school, and that’s if you even stayed that long.

Attention was everything when it came to children. If you said no, and this was apparently an emergency, what would happen to this child? Every child deserves a good life.

You don’t fully bother knocking on the door. Just punch in the code to the apartment, and Chase tugs at your arm. He isn’t as comfortable with this as you are. Your father gave you the code, Lloyd didn’t want you to knock, he wants you to make yourself comfortable. Your eyes go wide as you look around.

You could see the house at one point was pristine, but now it’s chaotic. Empty boxes are everywhere, but all of them seem to be items for the child. Your father told you she was a baby, but not how new she was. Tiptoeing deeper into the apartment, Chase pulls you back into him.

“Announce yourself. This is weird.”

“Mr. Hansen?” The sweetest little baby gurgle comes from the next room, and you look up at Chase. “That’s a real baby, handsome. Can I go meet my employer now?”

“I’m right here. Scream if you need me.”

“Mr. Hansen?” You ask again, looking into the first room. It is an even bigger disaster. Stuff was everywhere. The room has so much potential, but why does everything seem new? “Mr. Hansen, do you need help?”

He needs a lot of help. Could barely tend to his own child. His movements seem very rigid and unsure of himself. “Yeah, I think she peed. She has on the diapers that change color when wet, but…I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“I babysat a few times,” it’s a bit of a stretch. They weren’t babies. But you’ve seen some movies. Read some things, “Let me see. Hey there, cutie,” she looks like she could break hearts. She is angelic. Chubby little legs, and the biggest dimples in her cheeks. Completely toothless with the prettiest bright green eyes and long lashes. “I think you’ve overwhelmed your daddy. Did you recently just get custody?”

There had to be a reason for this mess. But he went and spent a ton of money trying to give his daughter everything she needed and could ever want. “I just recently found out about her,” that took an unexpected turn. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t have the time to really devote to her, but I don’t want her to do without, and…I’m in over my head.”

So he was a bit like your father. But he seems to currently be more hands on than your father was. It was cute, in a completely not weird way at all. Lloyd was older than you. A full grown man while you had only just graduated college. “I’m not an interior designer, but I know some. The apartment is a mess, I’m aware. Lyla needs so much, and this place was just here. I never took the time to do anything. So me and my partner ordered everything we could think of. I don’t think she needs everything we got, but she could. She has her bed, and her diapers, and there’s a box of formula and food in the kitchen. Her food should be there, right? I don’t think she plays with toys yet, but there’s some somewhere.”

“Is this a Dior stroller?”

“I was told it was a pram,” you stare at him, trying not to giggle. The fact that it was Dior was the more silly part. “I can’t do what I do and have her there it’s dangerous.”

“What do you do?”

“Don’t ask,” the look he gives you makes you take a step back, gawking up at him when you realize his size. He is tall. Arms that are thick and hard as steel. His shoulders are wider than your entire body, “Lyla will be provided for, and because of that so will you. Whatever you need. I’ll leave a card for you. I won’t be able to personally get all your…well, all your needs. So this seems like the best option.”

“My needs? Like food?”

“Uh, I know that you women have things you need,” he’s an idiot. “I’ll give you a check, so this looks legit, but I can provide all your special woman needs,” huge idiot.

“Yeah, I can get my ‘womanly needs’ with my paycheck. Do…how often are you going to be here if I’m living here?”

He puffs out a bit of air, and he fully gives you attention. His daughter now has a changed diaper, and he cradles her sweetly. Some stupid expensive silver teething toy in her mouth, and his eyes roam over your entire body. He’s a bit too handsome to be a father, and one that just so happened to be your employer. His eyes are too blue, and his arms look too thick, and you gulp, clenching your thighs together. What the fuck was this witchcraft?

“Every night if possible. I typically work remotely, but sometimes I do have to go out of the country, and that leads to a few days to a week without me coming home to you and Lyla,” is he smirking? You shouldn’t feel so small and taken aback, but your stomach erupts with annoying butterflies with how hard he’s staring at you.

“Would you like to see your room? It’s next to the baby’s. My bedroom is in the front of the apartment, just off the living room. So I’ll be the first to the door. Absolutely no one in this apartment. I don’t trust people. Especially not around my child, and I guess now you come into my protection. If you need to know the apartment is in another name. I have a tendency to create a lot of enemies, and I try to keep things here as safe as possible.”

Lloyd freezes when he hears Chase sneeze. Handing you the baby, he covers you and her with his body in such a quick motion it takes your breath away. Your loss of breathing had nothing to do with his weight digging into your skin, and you surely don’t let out an odd sound that has him giving you a quick wink.

“That would be my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend? Roman didn’t say anything about a boyfriend.”

“Roman doesn’t even know when my birthday is. Do you have a problem with Chase being here?”

“What kind of name is Chase?” With your free hand, you shove him off you. You didn’t need him that close to you. “Honestly, what kind of name is that? And I said nobody visits.”

“You just told me that. He traveled here with me because he didn’t trust that I was coming to some apartment with some weird man that lured me here under false pretense just so he could murder me.”

“I don’t lure women here. This is a safe space for my daughter. I need you to make him leave,” Lloyd didn’t need to lure women. When he wanted a woman he could have one. And wanting a woman led to him becoming a father.

“But I don’t want to be here alone with a baby that can’t talk,” his eyes narrow at you. It is like you and Lloyd are playing a tit for tat game. Going back and forth of why Chase shouldn’t be here, and why you need him here. “He has a job. He works at an IT firm. Would you really want me here alone and by myself? What if someone comes here to attack me? Then Lyla is left all alone.”

“I’ve taken precautions that this would never happen. When you’re on the clock, Lyla is your only priority,” that made you feel slightly uneasy. You had to make a note to check the neighbors. Getting a feeling that someone was tasked with watching and listening to you and Lyla.

“When am I off the clock?”

“When I am here. Unless,” he gives you that eat shit grin again, shaking his head. Is he actually flirting with you, “I shouldn’t say that, sunshine. So what should Lyla call you? Nanny seems a bit too old and mature for someone sweet like you.”

“Why not my name?” He contemplates that for a moment, looking down at his little baby who stares up at you. If babies could talk, you wonder what she is thinking of.

“Dolly.”

“What?”

“I want her to call you, Dolly. Her Dolly. Ooh, yes, I like that. Let’s see what I should do about this boyfriend,” spinning on his heels Lloyd walks down the hallway, stopping the moment he sees Chase. Your boyfriend stands up immediately, holding out his hand for Lloyd to shake.

“I don’t like you.”

“I’m sorry?” Chase looks towards you holding the baby, and takes a quick gulp. Lloyd’s eyes go between the two of you before sidestepping in front of you. His wide body blocking Chase from looking in your direction. “What is this?”

“Chase, let's get something straight, when I’m not here, Dolly is on the clock.”

“Her name isn’t Dolly.”

“When I’m here, I’ll allow her to come and go as she pleases, but just like Miss Dolly, I need to get a background check on you. I don’t want just anybody to have access to my daughter, and her au pair. And absolutely under no circumstance will you be sleeping under my roof. This is my home, and my daughter’s, and I don’t need stupid boys coming in here and tainting that,” he turns to look at you. Giving you no time at all to process exactly what he is saying. He couldn’t be serious.

“Remember, I own your father. I also own you. I’m offering you money that you can’t refuse because he just cut you off, and you’re used to a certain lifestyle. I’m providing that for you. And I don’t want limp dicks in my home. Have I made myself clear?”

“You can’t do that.”

“I can do whatever I want, Dolly. I’m Lloyd fucking Hansen. If I want to cut every single finger off your father’s hands, I will. You can either have me as your employer or your enemy. And if you walk out that door with that boy, you will be my enemy. I’m not saying you can’t date him, I’m saying I don’t want him in my house or around my daughter. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes,” his head tilts forward, and his piercing blue eyes give you a look. A look you can’t exactly explain, but it makes you feel things. Makes you ready to do whatever it is he told you to do. “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl. Get rid of the boyfriend.”

“But you’re here.”

“And so are you. There’s no need for him to linger around, while you move in. This is just an introduction, sweetheart. I need to walk you through all the boring stuff about your job. I’ll pay you extra if you get Lyla’s bedroom situated. This place is a complete disaster, and I can’t stand it. Get rid of him,” reaching towards Lyla, he walks back down the hallway to her room, and you give Chase an awkward smile.

“Come on, he can find someone else to be the au pair.”

“I need to see this through, Chase,” he tries interrupting you. Like he usually does, but you shake your head. You did need this job. None of the other places you applied at have called you back. “I need this job. It won’t be forever. And once I get settled in, and have my first day off, I’ll spend it with you.”

“You’re really going to let him talk to you like you’re his property?”

“No, I’m not. But I see myself in that little baby, and she needs me. He doesn’t know what to do.”

“Do you?” Nope. You had no idea about babies. You didn’t even have siblings. But your bags that were in Chase’s cars had a few books with some ideas on what to do. You’d figure it out along the way. Plus, you had this odd desire to understand your dad’s job, and also what exactly Lloyd did. How did a man that instilled so much fear in you also have a soft spot for his daughter?

“You’ll call if you want to leave? No questions asked, I’ll come and get you?”

“No questions asked,” you promise, kissing his lips softly. His hands cup your ass, and Lloyd glares at him down the hallway. How did Roman allow you to grow up and be disrespected in a stranger’s home? You allowed him to kiss down your neck, and neither of you even knew he was watching.

Lloyd would never let Lyla be treated like that. He wished he could make her not get any bigger. He liked the idea of having a woman in his home. Even if it wasn’t the way that a traditional family had it, who knew what the future held. You wanted to please him. Even told Chase it was time for him to leave. He still had it.

Chase pulls off your neck, and notices Lloyd watching you. His hands slip into your back pockets, and he gives your ass a bit of a squeeze, “Who’s girl are you?”

“I’m yours, Chase. Now go on, I’ll call you later,” his eyes flick over to Lloyd, who ventures into Lyla’s room. Going to lay her down for her nap as he tries to think of ways to get rid of Chase. He is an asshole. A cocky one at that. Unfortunately he reminded Lloyd of himself. And there is only enough room in your life for one asshole.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @floral-recs @pandaxnienke @theinheriteddutchess @rainydayandmondays @buckybarnesisdaddy @patzammit @xoxo-ls @rebeccapineapple @slutforchrisjamalevans @marvel-wifey-86 @jesevans @ughdontbeboring @infantasywonderland @vampy-doll @i-like-to-read-13 @missacidburn928 @charmed-asylum @honeyhoneylovelylove

[themissingnumbers]

[ @pkmn-monochrome - interaction thing i can't send as an ask bc long and images]

The dark of the Pokemon tower is never something that has bothered Red. Never something that would, certainly not after seeing much worse and being much older.

At this point, really, it's a kind of eeriness he'd come to miss. It reminds him of simpler times- days when a young boy only had to fear things like ghost stories, and shadows that lurked in the dark.

He knows very well that this place is not the Pokemon Tower he knew, of course. He's not stupid. This place was only built in its image, the miserable ending of a game dyed in grey and built out of spite.

He runs a hand along the wall of the staircase he descends, feeling the cold stone, yet also the intangible data, dull static and code under the fingertips. Watches in quiet fascination as the textures distort and corrupt under deliberate contact, the broken foundations of Generation 1 reacting to him, (same as always,) but a touch more stable from the fusion of the bastard remakes keeping it grounded.

Any damage caused is meaningless, the existence of it debatable as a whole, as he passes through a loading zone. Half of him watches everything fade to black, the other half just continues down the steps that are as tangible as anything else here is to someone within the game. Everything is right- just as it should be.

Either way, it's not like it's his game to break. That would be plain rude, especially with the risk of killing someone!

Intrigue in this world, curious as it may be, isn't why he's here.

Nah. He's more interested in something else.

Or, someone, to be more precise.

Having finally found who he'd looking for, Red steps off the stairs and into another layer of this endless graveyard, whistling as he finally lays eyes on a certain monochromatic individual.

"Y'know..." he chides from across the room, "A graveyard's a pretty cliche place to spend eternity, don't you think?"

He snorts at his own remark. "Course, I guess it's not like you had a choice. The sadsack that made this game could've picked something a little more outside the box, is all I'm saying. Do you think they'd bury bodies in the Viridian Forest, maybe? Or swimming offa Route 20, try a little watery grave... Oh, Champion's Road could be pretty morbid!"

He sighs and folds his arms, shaking his head at himself.

"... Nah, I'm joking. I can see the vision. I could give less of a shit about this place, anyways..."

His eyes gleam, and a menacing smile spreads across his face.

"I'm more interested in you. A glorified reskin of Pokemon Tower ain't shit compared to you. A little bug told me about some sentient Red-Leaf kinda amalgamation with the memories of a real person, and I just had to look into it and come to see for myself. Lo and behold..."

He spreads his arms out in some kind of almost-mocking grand gesture.

"Here you are! Cody, right? In the flesh, or... I suppose your problem is the lack thereof, heh."

He begins to approach, moving slowly and never once looking away. He stalks forward, every step careful and deliberate, teeth bared in a grin that holds no happiness but oozes with amusement.

"I've got so many questions, I don't even know where to begin. You're really something special... One of a kind, fully aware of everything. Knowing what life both here, and out there, is really like. I've seen players that would kill to even get a chance to stand where we do, but... You want out more than anything."

Scratching his chin, the man walks around them at a slight distance. Red gets the thought that Cody wouldn't want something like him anywhere near them. At least he can respect that.

"Suppose the courteous thing would be to ask a question- that's the tradition around these parts, right? Constantly interrogating you so you don't have to sit here, alone with your..."

His eyes flicker to the two GHOSTs at Cody's side.

"... Thoughts. And the like."

He hops onto a grave nearby, sitting with his ankles crossed. Respect towards the dead be damned, every tomb in places like this were about as sacred as Halloween decorations.

"Here's what I'd like to know, Cody."

His smile widens further- for a brief moment, the glitches on his body seem to spread to the air around him, cutting through the gray with burning streaks of red, white, and yellow.

"You have your hacker's memories. Some of them. ANY of them. It's enough. You'd know what it was like to be them. You know what it was like to be human. You know both worlds."

"What is it like? To be real? To be something more than code. How different is it from this?"

"What was it like to be HUMAN?"

He jabs a finger forward, pointing at them as the static that flared up around him quickly subsides, clearing the air back into the typical oppressive atmosphere of the endless graveyard.

"I want to hear it from you," he finishes cooly, "someone who has been on both sides of the screen. You could tell me better than anyone."

[amazingmsme]

Keeping Secrets

AN: More epic fluff! This time with Elpenor & Ody! Think it’s safe to say that we’re all in dire need for some cute goofy shenanigans after thunder saga, & I already had an idea for this. If anyone has any Eurylochus prompts please send em my way, cause he’s next!

“Ow!”

Elpenor yanked his hand away from the oar, inspecting his palm while the men around him continued rowing in unison.

"You okay?" Polites asked, turning around in his seat to check on the younger man.

"Yeah, it's just a splinter," he shrugged it off, picking at the skin around it in the hopes of working it from his palm. But his nails were short, and the splinter was deep, and it proved to be too difficult a task. He went back to rowing, ignoring the nagging pain in his hand.

That was a week ago.

Now, the skin around the splinter was red and puffy, and far too tender for him to do intense labor with that hand. He avoided rowing, as if the very act would kill him, opting for quite literally any other job.

He was slowly peeling carrots, the work tedious, yet easy on his hand. The cool carrot actually felt good against his inflamed palm. But he missed the camaraderie that came with the more difficult jobs, and people were starting to get suspicious.

Eurylochus marched through the kitchen doors, arms folded across his expansive chest as he stared down at him.

"Uh, d-did I do something wrong?" he asked, sitting up straight as the second in command walked in.

"Not exactly."

When Eurylochus didn't elaborate, Elpenor filled the silence. "So... why are you looking at me like that?"

"Why are you nursing your right hand?" he countered, catching Elpenor off guard.

He sputtered in shock as he answered, "Wha- I- no I'm not!"

"Oh, so you normally peel with your left hand?" he asked, arching a brow quizzically. Elpenor glared at him before he sighed in defeat. His shoulders sagged as he looked away.

"No... Hey! Let go!" Elpenor was wrenched to his feet when Eurylochus snatched him by the wrist, inspecting his injured hand.

"Mhm, you let it get infected," Eurylochus confirmed upon inspection. He snatched his hand back and clutched it close to his chest.

"I didn't let it do anything! I just couldn't get it out!" he snapped defensively.

"Well did you ask anyone for help?" Eurylochus asked in an even tone. Elpenor continued to glare.

"No..."

"Then you didn't try very hard," he reasoned, holding up a hand to silence Elpenor when he opened his mouth to argue. "It's alright. Just follow me." He walked to the door, holding it open for both of them.

"So where are we going?" he asked as he trailed behind.

"Odysseus has some tweezers. He should be able to get that splinter out no problem," he answered. Elpenor froze in place.

"The captain doesn't really need to know about this," he rushed out. Eurylochus turned to look at him, smirking when he took in his fearful expression.

"He already knows."

"Wha-"

"Polites told us."

Elpenor scoffed and crossed his arms, rolling his eyes as he spoke. "Of course he did."

"Hey, you should be grateful. Would you rather loose your hand because of a little splinter?" Eurylochus teased.

"Oh please, I wouldn't loose my hand-"

"No, because we're taking care of it right now," Eurylochus said matter of factly. Elpenor silently mocked him from behind, stopping immediately when he turned to check if he was coming. He begrudgingly trailed behind, complaining the whole way.

"Elpenor, relax. He just wants to talk to you and patch you up. It's not the end of the world."

"But this is stupid, can't I just take the tweezers and do it myself?" he tried to reason. Eurylochus shook his head, his expression shifting towards amusement when he saw his hesitation and worry.

"His bark is worse than his bite, I assure you."

"Hey, I'm not afraid of him!"

"You're sure acting like it," Eurylochus countered.

"He's gonna chew me out, I know that," Elpenor grumbled. He flinched when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Like I said. His bark's worse than his bite."

Elpenor heaved a dramatic sigh before following the rest of the way. Eurylochus ruffled his hair as he wished him luck, and he swatted him away before knocking.

The door opened and the captain welcomed him with a warm smile.

"Hey there. Come on in, have a seat," he greeted, pulling a chair away from his desk as he rifled through his things. Elpenor hesitantly walked in, taking in his surrounding as he sat down. The captain's room was messy yet organized, with eclectic decor and trinkets lining the walls and shelves.

Odysseus returned with a small pair of forceps, sitting on the edge of his bed in front of Elpenor. He noticed him staring at a large set of jaws hanging across the room and grinned.

"Polites and I reeled it in off the coast back home," he explained. Elpenor perked up.

"Really?"

"Yup. It was one hell of a fight too," Odysseus reminisced. "What about you? Do you enjoy fishing?" he asked conversationally. Elpenor thought for a moment before nodding.

"Yeah, I guess I like it," he agreed.

"Well it'll be a lot harder if you only have one hand," he chastised, though he kept his tone light enough. Elpenor looked at the floor, his head hung in shame.

"Yeah, well, it didn't come to that, so..." Elpenor trailed off, still refusing to meet the captain's gaze. Odysseus took notice and placed his hands on his hips.

"Oh come on, I was just teasing!" When Elpenor didn't crack a smile, he rolled his eyes and smacked him on the knee. "Lighten up!"

Elpenor chanced a glance at him, brows furrowed in confusion. "Aren't you gonna... I don't know, yell at me?"

"I can get my point across without yelling," he said, holding out his hand expectantly. Elpenor hesitated before placing his hand in his, palm up. "But you really shouldn't let any injury go unchecked, especially on a ship. You've scrubbed the deck, you know how filthy these things are," he chuckled at his own joke. Elpenor didn't find it nearly as amusing.

"I mean, even the smallest cut could get infected, and if you let it go long enough, next thing you know, you lost your hand. Or foot. Or whatever," he scolded, pointing an accusatory finger in Elpenor's face.

"Okay, I get it. I'll get help next time," Elpenor snapped.

"Hey, I'm your captain, don't you dare speak to me like that," Odysseus barked as soon as his tone shifted. Elpenor shrunk back.

"Yes sir. Sorry."

Odysseus sighed. "I care about the well being of every man on this ship. Okay? So whether you get stabbed, or you get a splinter, or anything in between, you fucking let someone know. Understood?" Elpenor nodded.

"Understood?"

Elpenor nodded more vigorously. "Yes sir."

Odysseus perked up, a cheery smile replacing the stern look. "Good! Now let's get you taken care of." He pressed his thumb against the inflamed skin, making Elpenor wince slightly.

"Sorry, it's kinda tender," he apologized.

"It's alright," Odysseus said, tongue poking out the side of his mouth as he concentrated. He massaged around the area, trying to work the splinter back to the surface. "Wouldn't hurt if you'd just done this to begin with-"

"Okay!"

Odysseus gave him a pointed look and he shut up. "That's what I thought." Despite his words and outward demeanor, Odysseus was actually hoping for a little bit of that classic defiance that everyone had come to associate with the youngest among their ranks. To see him so quiet and obedient felt... wrong.

Was Elpenor afraid of him?

Gods, he hoped not. He didn't want his men to fear him, he just wanted their respect. And Odysseus was wise enough to know the difference.

"Relax, this isn't gonna hurt."

Elpenor scoffed, "I know that."

"Really? 'Cause you're kinda acting like I'm gonna bite your hand off," he teased.

"Lots of talk about me losing my hand today," Elpenor quipped. "You and Eurylochus planning something?"

Odysseus couldn't help but bark out a laugh and shake his head. "Just concerned for you, is all."

Elpenor narrowed his eyes skeptically. "Uh huh." He watched as Odysseus worked the splinter closer to the surface before grabbing the tweezers.

"Alright, I think I can get it now." He pinched the tweezers twice just for show before he got to work pulling the splinter out. Elpenor watched as he slowly tugged the invasive piece of wood free from his palm. It was longer than he expected, and had been nestled right near his thumb, preventing adequate mobility. The relief he felt when it was finally pulled free was immense.

"See? That wasn't so bad," Odysseus said once he finished. Elpenor nodded in agreement, glancing up at him in thanks.

"No sir. Uh, thank you." Elpenor made to stand, but Odysseus yanked him right back down.

"We're not quite done yet. Sit," he demanded, despite already forcing him to do so.

"Oh, uh, okay," Elpenor said nervously, watching every movement he made.

Odysseus walked over to a bucket in the corner and carried it back, sloshing precariously along the way.

"Hold out your hand," Odysseus ordered, and he listened. He held the bucket up and poured a generous amount of saltwater over the inflamed skin. He offered a towel to dry off before rummaging around his room once more. He returned with a golden jar and some loose bandages. Elpenor studied his movements with curiosity.

"So what's all this for?" he questioned.

"Well," Odysseus began as he unscrewed the jar and dipped his finger inside. "The saltwater was to clean the wound-"

"I wouldn't exactly call it a wound-"

"Shh, the captain's talking," he playfully shushed him, but Elpenor's mouth snapped shut regardless. "And the honey and bandages are to make sure it heals," he explained as he dabbed the honey onto his palm.

He was practically stiff as a board. Odysseus wasn't even sure he was breathing.

"You okay there?"

Elpenor snapped himself out of it and nodded. "Yup! Never better!"

"Uh huh," Odysseus said skeptically. He continued to spread the honey across his palm, this time watching Elpenor's reactions carefully. Strangely enough, he seemed to react more than when he actually removed the splinter. His shoulders were tense, lips pressed in a thin line as he avoided the captain's gaze. Odysseus traced the long crease of his hand, and his arm instinctively pulled back, fingers twitching with the urge to form a fist.

"Is there something you're not telling me?"

To Elpenor, the question came out of nowhere. He looked up in a panic, locking eyes with Odysseus. "What?"

"I know this doesn't hurt half as much as you're acting like it does. So what gives? You got another splinter you're not telling me about?" His questions were sensible and valid, and Elpenor hated just how genuine he sounded.

"No!"

"Then what is it?"

"It's nothing!"

Odysseus didn't believe him. He squinted, looking Elpenor up and down. He leaned forward, on the cusp of invading his personal space. "Then act like it's nothing." He then continued to apply the honey in a thin, sticky layer.

And Elpenor flinched once more, biting his bottom lip.

Odysseus let out a small noise in frustration, letting go of his hand and fixing him with a look. "What's really going on?" he demanded.

"Noth-"

Odysseus held up a hand to silence him. "Don't lie to me." Elpenor went quiet, fixing him with a glare of his own.

"I'm not lying! It really is nothing."

"Yeah, because flinching at every touch is normal," Odysseus countered.

Elpenor hung his head, refusing to look at the captain for what seemed like the millionth time. "It's stupid," he mumbled, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks, not quite visible to Odysseus.

"Try me." When Elpenor didn't quite get the hint, he continued. "Oh come on, it can't be that bad," he encouraged. When that still didn't work, he added, "Tell me, or you'll be swabbing the deck for a week." That got his attention.

"Oh come on!" he whined. Odysseus grinned.

"I can make it two," he playfully threatened.

Elpenor wrenched his hand free from his gasp as he threw his arms up in the air out of frustration. "Zeus, you're insufferable! It just tickled a little, okay? Happy?" he snapped.

Odysseus tried to keep it together, he really did. But his smile stretched wider across his face, showing off all his teeth, and a chuckle slipped out that he tried to mask as a cough.

"Don't laugh at me!"

"Sorry, sorry. I just- wasn't expecting that," he admitted, looking Elpenor up and down. "You could've just told me, I would've been more careful."

He scoffed and crossed his arms. "Yeah right."

Odysseus cocked his head, eyebrows shooting up quizzically. "Oh? You don't trust me?" he challenged.

"Not with that information, no," he admitted, keeping a suitable distance between them.  Odysseus tossed his head back with a hearty laugh.

"Well at least you're honest. Let's get you bandaged up." He smirked when Elpenor didn't move. "I promise I won't do anything," he said, hiding crossed fingers behind his back.

He hesitantly sat back down, allowing Odysseus to wrap his hand. A long silence stretched between them before Odysseus spoke. "So palms, huh?"

Elpenor groaned and hid his face in his free hand. "Please stop talking."

"No no, I think it's cute," he teased, making sure the bandage was tight enough, but not too tight before tying it in a knot.

"I'm never gonna live this down, am I?" he mumbled.

"Not likely," Odysseus said smugly, not even bothering to hide his proud smirk. Elpenor groaned in embarrassment.

"Oh don't be like that. There are worse things." He patted his knee to signal that he was done, and Elpenor heaved a sigh of relief. When he made to stand, Odysseus stopped him.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Elpenor felt his stomach drop. "Uh, b-back to work?"

"In a minute, I gotta check the other one."

Elpenor clutched his hands to his chest, staring at him in bewilderment. "Why?"

"Gotta make sure that one's not hurt. Can't really take your word for it now, can we?" he teased.

"It's fine!" he squeaked out.

"Relax, it'll only take a second," he assured, snatching his other wrist. He yanked him down so he was sitting beside him on the bed, wasting no time before getting to work.

"Captain! What're you doING?" Elpenor's protest turned squeaky towards the end before clamping his mouth shut. Odysseus scribbled against his palm, smiling innocently

"Checking for splinters," he said, feigning innocence. Elpenor shook his head, stomping his feet a little, anything to keep from laughing. "What else would I be doing?" Odysseus asked, as if he didn't already know.

"You're t-tickling mehehe!" Elpenor cried out before bubbly giggles took over his voice.

"Really? Wow, I would've never guessed," he mused nonchalantly, tracing the lines on Elpenor's palm.

"Liahahar! You fucking knew!" he accused, so Odysseus decided to scratch blunt nails along his inner wrist. He snorted and tugged on his trapped arm, but the captain's grip held firm.

"I didn't know they'd be this bad. But hey, I'm not complaining," he taunted, chuckling when Elpenor whined through his giggles and tried shoving him away with his wrapped hand.

"Ihihi ahahaham!" Elpenor argued, trying to sound angry, but the giggles severely diminished the effect. Odysseus scoffed and waved him off.

"No you're not, you're laugh," he justified, flashing him a cheeky grin. He began tracing circles on the center of his palm, and Elpenor squealed, tugging on his arm with all his might. Odysseus barely bit back a smirk, letting him go so that he flew back into the mass pillows on the bed.

Odysseus didn't bother to hide his laughter when Elpenor hit the pillows and only laughed harder when he glared up at him.

"What kind of captain are you?" he asked incredulously, sitting up among the mountain of pillows.

"A really fun one," he bragged. Elpenor rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

"You're crazy..."

"Thank you," Odysseus said mock sincerely, placing a hand over his heart.

"That wasn't a compliment!"

"It is to me."

"Whatever," Elpenor scoffed and waved him off. His cheeks were sporting a bright blush, brows furrowed, nostrils flared: oh, so he got angry when he was embarrassed. This just kept getting better and better.

He waited until Elpenor was almost standing to strike. He lunged forward, grabbing him in a headlock from behind and yanking him back down.

"NO! MOTHERFUCKER, LET ME GOOO!" he screamed, thrashing in his hold as much as he could.

"Hey! Don't talk to your captain like that!" Odysseus scolded, wasting no time before clawing at his belly.

"THEN AHAHACT LIHIKE ONE!" Elpenor squealed through his growing hysterics, prying his arm away, only for it to latch onto his hip and squeeze.  Odysseus gasped in mock offense, drilling his thumb against the bone.

"You undermining my authority?" he challenged in a threatening tone.

"N-nohoho! Please, thihihis ihis torture!" Elpenor shrieked when he felt that wretched hand scribble across his stomach up to his ribs.

Odysseus snorted in amusement. "Yeah- tickle torture!" As he spoke, he sped up his movements, digging in ever so slightly. Elpenor cackled and thrashed even more.

"You're nohohot funny!"

"Actually, I'm hilarious!" Odysseus insisted. "Oh, I got a good one for you! How many tickles does it take to make a kraken laugh?" Somehow, Elpenor managed to let out an annoyed groan through a fit of giggles. "Ten tickles!"

"Thehehey only hahave eight legs!" he argued. Odysseus glared down at him and shoved his hands under his arms, making his scream with laughter.

"You smartass! I know they only have eight tentacles, it's called a play on words!"

"Stihihill not funny!"

"Oh now you're asking for it," he growled as he scribbled down his ribs to his sides to his hips.

"Ihihi ahaham NOHOHOT!" Elpenor shrieked when he felt hands relentlessly squeeze his hips.

"That's exactly what someone who's asking for it would say," Odysseus taunted with a shit eating grin. "But since I'm feeling nice, I'll offer you a deal: promise to actually tell someone if you're hurt, and- are you even listening?" he asked, drilling circles against the bones with his thumbs. Elpenor bucked and snorted, nodding in agreement.

"Yehehes, just gehehet ohohon with it!" he cried out through his laughter. Odysseus chuckled along and continued.

"Okay bossy. But if you promise to be more careful and look after yourself, I'll let you go," he bargained. Elpenor leapt at the opportunity for mercy.

"Yehehes, fine! Whatehehever you wahant, just stop!"

True to his word, Odysseus pulled away, allowing him to catch his breath. He chanced a glance towards the captain, instant regret taking hold as he saw him leaning against the headboard, arms folded across his chest smugly, and he was sporting the biggest shit eating grin Elpenor had ever seen. He turned away with a huff, mumbling under his breath as he stood.

Odysseus watched him go, snickering quietly behind his hand. He shut up as soon as Elpenor whipped around, trying to catch him in the act. But there he sat, the picture of feigned innocence.

Elpenor scoffed, still reeling from the strange interaction with their superior.

"You're a fucking monster," he spat, but the insult held no heat. In fact, it only made Odysseus smile wider.

"Yeah, a tickle monster," he chimed in, not even bothering to hide his amusement. Elpenor blushed, eyes wide and mouth agape as he struggled to find a smart retort. Odysseus cocked his head. He glared at him.

"Shut up." He grabbed the doorknob, flinching when he heard Odysseus's voice speak up.

"You're dismissed," came the smug call, and Elpenor could just kill him.

"I was already leaving," he sassed back, opening the door and leaving. He slammed the door behind him, cutting off deep, rumbling chuckles. He turned down the hall, nearly running into Eurylochus.

"Wha- Eurylochus! Uh, h-how long have you, uh, been standing there?" he studdered, not quite meeting his gaze. Eirylochus smirked.

"Just wanted to make sure you'd made it out alive," he teased.

"Yeah, whatever," he brushed him off, getting all but two steps before it dawned on him, and he spun on his heels to face him. "Wait- YOU FUCKING KNEW?!"

Eurylochus couldn't help but break out in a large, playful grin. He shrugged sheepishly.

"Asshole!" he shoved at his chest, as unmoving as a wall. "Why didn't you warn me?"

"And ruin the surprise?"

Elpenor let out a high pitched, indignant sound that made Eurylochus bark out a laugh. He threw an arm around his sounders and guided him down the hall.

Elpenor was still reeling from what had just happened. At the beginning of the day, he had a nagging splinter in his hand, and by the end, the splinter was gone, and in its place was a completely new perception of the man he called captain.

Maybe he wasn't so bad...

And then Polites bounded up to him, eyes shining and smile bright. "I didn't know you were ticklish!"

Or not.

[screamingcrows]

Chase - Dottore x reader

Note: Same reader as Tomorrow and Settling in. All of this is just stuff that will never make it into my long fic because those guys don't get to have the happiness these two will get. Keep this out of character ai bots or I'm spreading Pseudomonas aeruginosa in your garden.

Tags: fem reader, reader from Fontaine, she works under him, anger, talk of murder, weapon, angst?

MINORS, AGELESS, BLANK BLOGS DNI

"Doctor? I need to ask you a question," her voice was a far cry from the usual sharpness.

Dottore laid his pen down before taking in her face. It was uncanny how easily her voice could halt his thoughts. Faint traces of salt lingered along her cheeks, but worse still were her eyes. He motioned for her to continue, unwilling to break the delicate silence.

"Why do you pursue knowledge?"

That caused him to pause. She should know, by all means, it was a fact well known throughout the Fatui. But if she needed to hear, there was no harm repeating himself. It was a quiet day after all.

"As you know, there is a discrepancy between what information we, as inhabitants of this world, are allowed to possess and-"

"That wasn't my question," she hadn't snapped at him like that before.

He couldn't help but scrunch his nose in distaste as he briefly considered reprimanding her. The way her flame had wavered during the last month hadn't been lost on him.

Too many nights she would stay long past what was necessary, his segments conveying that they'd found her collapsed atop her desk, freezing cold and difficult to rouse.

"Pose your question better."

"What drives you? What do you want to see at the end of this? I guess," her words faltered when she finally arrived at the right question. "What do you feel when you achieve a goal?"

"A sense of satisfaction from unraveling a mystery, from solving a problem, accompanied of course by a barrage of new objectives to pursue"

His eyes flickered up to her and he found his hand reaching for the mask, diverting the movement to run his fingers through his hair instead. At the first sound of her quiet sniffles he turned his head away, crossing one leg over the other. Something so foreign and so desperately familiar was taking root.

"I feel.. I feel nothing. Like some pitiful ghost that can't move on. And I hate myself for it. Because it means they were right," her voice grew more frantic along with her sobs.

She'd begun pacing back and forth in front of the desk, the force of her steps making his pens rattle in their cup. Dottore felt it in his bones.

"I killed all those people, and it felt so good while they clawed out their eyes. So why is it so empty now? I proved myself, proved that I could, my idea worked a-and they're all dead for doubting me!"

Her frantic laughter rang through the room, making his hands tighten around the armrests. There was nothing he would say to console her, knowing there were only two options from here. It was not something to be driven by another's hand.

"It's not fair!"

The worn desk creaked with the force of her fists bearing down upon it. When he looked upon her again tears adorned her cheeks, and for a moment there was an itch to reach out and brush them away. Run a finger along her bottom lip, swollen from how she'd been chewing on it. Like so much else, it never became more than a simple fantasy.

"Did you expect to bury your troubles along with their bodies?"

"I-.. Well, yes. Obviously."

He had to bite back a chuckle, the hesitation in her voice confirmed his suspicion. She did know better than that. Taking a life out of vengeance was one thing, but living with the consequences was an entirely different issue.

With a small sigh, Dottore reached forward towards where she was leaning over the table, head hanging in defeat. He caught the longing in her eyes when she noticed the approaching hand. It was difficult not to wince when the look was replaced with disappointment when his gloved hand pulled a few things back from the edge.

"You knew it wouldn't make me feel any better," venom laced your words, unsurprising but still unpleasant to hear.

"Yes."

At least her crying had ceased, reduced to nothing but faint sniffles while she rubbed at her eyes. Her voice had risen in pitch, the sound uncomfortably invasive.

"You let me work myself to near-death knowing it was for nothing?"

"We now have a terrifying new weapon in our arsenal, and I'm sure you can improve upon it. I'll get one of the segments working on something to more efficiently deliver it, perhaps we should-"

Dottore tilted his head to the side, narrowly avoiding the pen she'd thrown at him. For a moment, everything stood still as he awaited her next action. There was nothing but the faint sound of his heel repeatedly hitting the ground. Had he misjudged her?

"You absolute bastard, you.. you.."

It was difficult to remain a spectator when the realization became comically clear in her expression. Oh he hadn't misjudged her at all. She knew. What had transpired was entirely by her own choice.

A small curse passed his lips when she threw a mug onto the floor, porcelain shattering alongside her resolve. There was barely time to stop her when she stormed out of the laboratory. Perhaps a segment could check on her later.

[snowblack-charcoalwhite]

I think that the misandry by the writers , especially Hess, is something that isn't discussed much. It's much deeper and dare I say, more sinister than just 'men bad women good' because the way she wrote the last episode shows that she wants to convey how Alicent's actions are commendable in a sense that her male children don't deserve her devotion and unconditional love anyway, while her only female child and grandchild do. It's framed as her liberation because she sells her own sons to another woman who is their enemy, but you know, it is good because Rhaenicent and reasons. As a woman, I'm appalled by this. What's worse is that I've seen takes here and on x like "Alicent regained her agency by ditching her sons for the woman she loves, her betrayal is understandable, go girl, you have my support" (and this one is tame compared to some others). Believe me, I'm not exaggerating. And I must be from mars because in my book that's not acceptable, understandable or commendable in any way, just the opposite. The problem, however, lies in the fact that the narrative and the writers' agenda support these vile and delusional takes. You don't even have to be a parent to see how evil and nonsensical this idea is, you just have to be able to understand basic human emotions and family dynamic. The writers and a big chunk of the fandom apparently don't.

Hello!

Thank you for this, really. The writers' (Hess' specifically) misandric agenda is absolutely crazy - and IMO crazy evident as well, so seeing so many people fall for it is baffling, sad and infuriating at the same time.

Don't they see that in HotD the women are the ones to blaim for something only when they side with men in one way or another? Don't they understand how forced, unsubtle and - because of that - cringe all the "you are a woman so you can't rule", "they don't respect me because I'm a woman" and "women suffer while men fight" are? House of the Dragon is one of the most force-feeding shows I've ever watched - and for some reason GA and even some people in the fandom believe it's alright. Media literacy is dead for real.

And the parent-children aspect of misandry you brought up is indeed one of the most atrocious things about the whole debacle. I am not a mother myself - but I have one, just as, I think, the majority of the viewers do. I refuse to believe that everyone who cheers for Alicent to abandon her sons has their own familial relationships so screwed that they are unable to understand the outlandishness of the opinion they are choosing to uphold.

Not to mention that in their quest for showing just how terrible Alicent's sons (minus Daeron - at least for now) are, HotD writers completely destroyed Helaena's personality, even the sparks of it she had in season 1. Now she is all about three things: bugs, clairvoyance and suffering (and I can't believe that the first point has been handled the best development-wise). Helaena is supposed to be good and kind: but what good and kind things have we seen her do? Taking care (kind of) of her crickets, offering a necklace in exchange for the life of her son (oh wow) and saying that she shouldn't really grieve for her child that much because the commoners' kids are dying all the time (how relatable for anyone who actually lost a child, right?). For most part she is just there, staring into the distance and saying something prophetic (or, again, suffering).

Just imagine a real mother saying to her son "You know, sonny, I love you, but you forgot to thank me for the pudding I made for your birthday plus you called my bestie an old cow - so I invited your school bullies to our house so that they could beat the shit out of you, you ungrateful jerk. They are in the backyard, go on, don't make your mommy wait".

Just imagine a real woman whose son has just been brutally killed say "You know what, there are so many children starving to death in the world. Why should I cry over mine?"

Honestly, I am beginning to think that people are steadily losing the ability to connect the things happening on screen to actual human emotional experience - as if the characters (in HotD in this case) are aliens to whom basic concepts that have been holding humanity together for millenia do not apply.

[dearasteria]

Major Gale romance SPOILERS below, so please DO NOT read and watch if you don't want to get spoiled.

I was REALLY worried about how romance with Gale would go, especially after talking to him right after he gets Karsas' book. My Tav wanted to believe and trust him, but something didn't feel right. At the end of Act II, when Tav tries to convince him not blow himself up for his ex's forgivness/to save Faerûn, it can be summed up with that one gif from Grey's Anatomy: "So pick me. Choose me. Love me" 🤡. Honestly, she asks not only to choose her, but also not to kill her and the rest of the team. Gale is so easily swayed and tells Tav that he loves her, even more than Mystra. Tav should be happy, right? But I'm like WAIT A DAMN MINUTE, it was faaar too easy, I mean, no protests from him, I didn't even have to use persuasion to convince him. At that point, after the trauma that Bioware had caused us with Anders and Solas, I'm getting paranoid. Gale doesn't love Tav, he's definitely hiding something. But I'm thinking to myself, "Okay, calm down, he just doesn't want to die, super understable. Maybe he really loves her and he needed to hear it? He needed reassurance that he has something to live for? Yes, it must be it". But then I go to the quest journal and see this:

DAMMIT GALE, you snake 🐍 My poor baby Tav (especially since the romance scene in Waterdeep was so warm and tender). She's so in love in him. Now I'm convinced that he will definetly betrey us, stubs us right in the heart.

At the beginning of Act III, he becomes obsessed with a book called The Annals of Karsus that may help him learn more about the crown. He becomes obsessed with how powerful he can become. When Tav gives him the book and says, "We already know the crown's dangerougs. Wouldn't that make things worse?" he replies:

"Worse? It could be the best thing that ever happened to me. To us."

After all this, Gale tries to convince Tav to help him reconstruct the crown. We have this beautiful scene on the boat and when I tell you my jaw dropped. HE CHOOSES TAV, listens to her concerns and simply chooses her.

The way he says it, the way he corrects himself… damn. For Tav, it's like a bucket of cold water. And I'm like, "Here we go again" 🤡

Furthermore, when we visit the Stormshore Tabernacle in Baldur's Gate and interact with Mystra's statue, he seems to feel so uncomfortable, he doesn't want to be there. Tav starts to think he's definitely hiding something. She would like to hear Mystra's version of what happened between her and Gale (I hope we can talk to her at some point in the game, it would be very interesting).

My Tav, however, disagreed, and Gale replies, "I hope you're right. I truly do. Godly power, perhaps I can live without, but you? You're everything". Has the curse of dating mages that leave players heartbroken been broken?

But I have to admit, when he said: "With you, I forget my goddess. I love you. Tell me you feel the same way. Tell me you want what I want. Please" - OH GODS 😳. I was so close to agreeing to this madness. The VA did an amazing job (side note: so many talented VAs in this game, it's mind blowing), the writing is amazing, the music is incredible, I was blown away, really.

Next day, after the boat scene, he's so adorable and full of love for Tav. Then I remembered his gratest flaw (for me it's more like his biggest fear) from the scene with Zethino in the circus: "He thinks he, and the world, might be better off if he were dead". At the time I thought he was lying, manipulating Zethino and his answers. My distrust of mages in games… Yes, I have a problem 😅

I haven't finished the game, but I have high hopes for a happy ending. No spoilers please, thanks :)

What a rollecoster of emotions, I love it, I love Gale. It felt like I was playing Dragon Age: Origins for the first time, way back when I was a teenager. It's really insane how this game makes me feel, how much I care about its characters and story.

EDIT: Okay, so we have an audience with Mystra, I mean only Gale, but we see the whole conversation between them. My only complain is that Gale doesn't mention Tav when Mystra asks him why he defied her 💔 The outcomes are different depending on whether you do it before or after the boat scene. Personally, I think doing the boat scene before meeting Mystra is much better. I get the impression that Gale is abandoning the plan to reconstruct the crown solely for Tav and his love for her. And the drama 👌🏻 it gives me life.

[sophieinwonderland]

The Plurality of... Blue Beetle! (Movie)

Plurality: A state of multiple self-conscious agents, or "headmates," sharing a single body.

Oh, this one is going to be a little rough!

If you know the Blue Beetle, it shouldn't be surprising that they're a plural character. We've never read Blue Beetle comics, but my host was pretty familiar with Blue Beetle from Young Justice, where Jaime had a pretty big role in season 2.

I went into Blue Beetle with high hopes and, if I'm honest, ended up a little disappointed.

But before we can get into why I felt that way, let's first talk about their plurality!

Spoilers for the Blue Beetle movie ahead:

Jaime Reyes and Khaji-Da as plural characters

In the movie, Khaji-Da, often referred to as just "The Scarab," is a world-destroying weapon that found its way to Earth.

It bonds with Jaime Reyes when he touches it, fusing to his flesh and turning him into the Blue Beetle in an elaborate body horror sequence.

Khaji is established as a sentient being, and is able to communicate with Jaime mentally. Now, it's not actually clear if Jaime can communicate back mentally like many real headmates can. Every time he talks to Khaji is aloud, which I think was also how it was in Young Justice too. It's possible that while the Scarab can send messages to Jaime's mind, it can't read it. But that seems kind of a strange limitation when the movie shows it gaining access to a person's full memory after connecting with them, and is at least able to figure out Jaime's name through their connection.

It would seem weird to me if talking out loud to Khaji was necessary to be heard, but that's how the movie presents it. (This could be a comfort thing too. As part of a plural system, I'll admit we'll often talk out loud through the body when nobody is around to hear us. Words can be clearer than pure thoughts.)

A small part of the movie is dedicated to the two learning to get along, with there being some conflict around Khaji wanting to kill an enemy, and Jaime saying that they aren't killers.

This leads to an important moment later in the movie where Jaime is enraged, believing he's lost multiple family members, and is going to execute the villain.

The word "execute" is important here, because while other good characters have no problem killing (their nana took great joy in it, in fact), it's always against active combatants. Not someone who was disarmed. The movie doesn't make this distinction directly, but I think it's an important one.

It's one thing for superheroes to kill to protect themselves and others, most heroes are willing to these days, but it's another for them to kill someone who isn't actively a threat anymore.

Kahji takes just enough control to hold Jaime back from doing something he would regret, repeating back that they aren't killers, showing itself capable of learning from Jaime.

It's a cool moment, and I appreciated this little character growth.

Despite Khaji being sentient and capable of learning though...

Khaji isn't treated as a character

This was my disappointment with the movie.

Blue Beetle should have been more of a plural story, but Khaji is hardly ever treated as a character by the narrative or the other characters.

Yes, Khaji gets some funny lines here and there, ("Host overreacting" being a favorite of mine) but doesn't seem to have any real motivation, interests or really anything going for it.

And what's worse... there's not even a REAL CONVERSATION between Jaime and Khaji. Even when they really should be discussing things.

Like...

The Rooftop Scene

At one point, the bad guys have found Jaime's family. Jaime tried to activate his powers. They don't work. What's a Beetle to do?

Well, Jaime decided that since the Scarab will try to protect him, the best bet will be to JUMP OFF THE ROOF!

And while this is sorta well-reasoned, I found myself internally screaming this entire to time to just ask it to change.

Like, Khaji can talk. They literally said in the scene right before that Khaji was sentient.

And while jumping off the roof made for a dramatic scene, it eliminated what could have been a great moment with Jaime explaining the importance of his family and his need to protect them to Khaji.

It forced Khaji to help, when Kahji may have been perfectly willing to help if Jaime just talked to it, instead of trying to make Kahji to do what he wanted.

And you might wonder, does Khaji get offended at Jaime risking his life to force Khaji into doing what he wants? I wonder that too, because this moment is never mentioned again in the movie.

For a film so much about family, Khaji is never part of that

Blue Beetle is a movie centered around family.

It's about Jaime's relationship with his family who is very close, almost suffocating but in a good way. Jaime is driven to protect and fight for his family at every turn, and his family will do anything to protect him.

This is contrasted with the Kord family which is dysfunctional and broken, and Carapax who lost his family and sees familial love as a weakness.

These themes are intricately woven into the narrative.

So it is so disappointing how utterly divorced from that theme Khaji-Da ended up.

There is a great story to be told about this extraterrestrial machine that crashes to Earth, never having a family of its own or a concept of what family means, only to be bonded to Jaime and go from being treated as something to be gotten rid of to be welcomed as another member of Jaime's family.

That would be really cool. And they seemed willing to tell a similar story with Jenny Kord, being brought into the family group hug after everything was over.

But Khaji is treated less like a valued member of the family and more like an accessory. And even when Jaime fully bonds with Khaji, it's not about agreeing to integrate and share a mind so much as it's accepting his heroic destiny.

This feels like a huge missed opportunity for the type of story they were telling, and a betrayal of that story's central themes.

Jaime's Mother Addressing Khaji

This is the one exception where a character who wasn't Jaime actually treated Khaji as a person.

She first asks what Khaji's name was. Then says...

I know you can hear me, Khaji-Da. I want you both to get it together. Find your strength, mijito. Use the pain we’re feeling and turn it into power. I want you to go back in there… And kick their asses!

I love this so much. I love the mother's character for thinking to acknowledge Khaji as its own person and talk to it directly, giving her pep talk to both of them at once.

It's a fantastic scene. An incredible moment.

But it's also still treating Khaji as a weapon. The one and only time a character who isn't Jaime talks to Khaji, it's telling Khaji to go fight people.

I'm glad to have gotten this. But I feel they could have done so much more.

Khaji's feelings are never explored

We're told that the Scarab is a planet-destroying super weapon. How does Khaji feel about that?

We don't know. It never comes up.

Does Khaji have memories of worlds it's destroyed?

Does it know why it was created or who created it?

If it doesn't know those things, does the lack of awareness scare it?

Can it feel fear, and if Jaime asked if it was scared, would it understand the emotion?

The fact that these things weren't explored at all leaves me with one important and sad conclusion.

The writers weren't interested in writing a plural character

Blue Beetle's plurality is an afterthought.

The Scarab was sentient and Blue Beetle would use "we" pronouns occasionally because Khaji is sentient in the comics. But the relationship between the two wasn't a priority of the writers.

And in my opinion, the film suffered for it. Not just from a plural perspective but from a writing perspective. The film would have been so much better had Khaji been treated more like a character rather than just a weapon and plot device.

Khaji stopping Jaime from killing needed more build-up, and Khaji needed and deserved to be better integrated with the story's central themes of family.

Conclusion

All in all, I feel that Blue Beetle was a good movie. But I also feel its treatment of Khaji held it back from being a great movie.

I hope I don't come off as too hard on this particular movie. There's a lot of media that, when less explicitly plural, I might be more forgiving of. I once wrote a whole post about why I thought Kronk was plural based on his angel and demon Kronks who never get any sort of character arcs. But those aren't intended to be sentient people by the writers. Instead, they're plural by happenstance, simply by being more developed than other shoulder angels and demons in cartoons.

Meanwhile, Khaji Da is supposed to be a full character, I went in expecting a lot, and I feel Khaji just didn't live up to its potential in this movie.

I look forward to seeing what DC does with the character in the future, and if Khaji can get more development.

And I'm sad that, given the box office, it's probably not going to get a sequel of its own. I'm sure the planned Reach story would have given Khaji some much needed character development.

For more of me rambling about the plurality of DC superheroes, see: The Plurality of... Batman (Failsafe).

[emcapi-gaming]

"So you're here to try and save the world?" She gives a single, bitter laugh. "Bit late for that. I mean, I appreciate the thought, but it's not worth it. This place is too far gone. You're just gonna get yourself killed - or worse."

"I've come this far, haven't I? I have to try."

"…Just what this place needs, another stubborn heroic dumbass." She shakes her head. "There's no arguing with you, is there."

"You've got that much right."

"Well. If you don't mind the extra company, I might as well follow you around and yell at you when you're about to do something particularly stupid. Sure could have used that, myself. Besides, it sounds more interesting than moping my way across every square ilm of Norvrandt like I've been doing."

Ardbert chuckles. "I've seen some pretty strange things, but I think being yelled at by a ghost would be a new one. Sure. Why not? Although I'll have to try and explain you to my friends, lest they assume I've started talking to myself."

(fun facts/notes/lore under cut as usual!)

Originally this was supposed to be part of a poly week prompt (combination of role/outfit swap + alternate universe) but I never got around to the other part with Zero. Ah well! I'm still happy with how this turned out.

I think the most interesting part of this shot + bonus drabble was thinking about some of the ways they're different! They have, frankly, an absurd amount of things in common - most of which were unintentional! - but I like exploring how they differ as individuals also.

In this case: Ardbert is way more of a (justifiably) grumpy little shit here in canon, lol. Between the two of them, he definitely has more of a temper and is more likely to default to anger as a reaction. Ardwin will absolutely snap if pushed, but outside of battle, she is, by comparison, a little more patient and willing to laugh things off or pretend they don't bother her. (Although her tendency to bottle things up comes with its own issues.)

Some of that difference is just down to different hormonal systems. (I have it on good authority from my husband that going on T shifted his default emotional response when upset from being sad/crying to getting angry.) However, some of it is just that: a personal difference!

Thinking about it a little more, maybe Ardwin would be a bit more expressive in this AU. I think that Heavensward, in particular, amplified her pre-existing tendency to repress her shit and Not Talk About It, because Alphinaud and Tataru were really relying on her to be their anchor. She absolutely did not wanna burden them with her own problems. (Let alone the whole, uh, "a smile better suits a hero" bit, which, come to think of it, also absolutely did not help.)

In this AU, though, Ardwin would have been running around with Ardbert's friends. This means she no longer would have been the only Warrior of Light, or the only one being relied on to be The Strong One (given that between Branden, Cylva, and Ard___, the First WoLs have 3 tanks lmao). She definitely would still feel like she should be the stoic leader, but they would probably successfully (lovingly) bully her into talking about her feelings every so often, so she doesn't end up with the Pit of Emotional Repression in the same way.

[pastanest]

if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post. I was able to retrieve this thanks to @rosieathena - thanks so much!! ♡

Spencer Reid x she/her reader

Reid x Youtuber/Streamer Girlfriend

- Spencer Reid has a somewhat boomer knowledge of social media platforms, he doesnt really understand them, but he knows from his job that they cause a lot of problems, so generally he steered clear of them in his personal life

- that was, until he met you

- the two of you very quickly became good friends soon after you joined the team, and it wasnt long before you both realised that the connection you had was not one between friends

- you went on a date, and things have only gone up from there

- during a conversation Spencer remembers very well, you casually mentioned your side-job as a youtuber and twitch streamer

- Spencer didnt even know what twitch was, and assumed you meant you live streamed yourself twitching and got paid for it

- you slowly introduced him to the world of youtube and livestreaming, and he was fascinated

- at first, he would sit out of frame while you streamed, just listening to you commentate over various video games you played and observing the way you communicated with the people in the stream chat as if they were your friends

- by no means did you earn a lot through this hobby, but it was something you enjoyed, and Spencer would support any harmless hobby that brought you so much joy

- but then he discovered it wasnt harmless

- you had been very fortunate to have Spencer sit in on streams in which you received very little abuse in chat, and because he wasnt reading the chat you could simply ignore any hateful messages there and he would be none the wiser

- however, on the first stream that he decided to join, things were a little different

- Spencer was sitting beside you, the two of you playing a multiplayer video game, both of you visible to the thousands of people watching

- and he, being the genius capable of doing a million things at once, was able to glance into the chat and read what people were saying as he played, curious to any tips or tricks they may lend him to help him be a better player in the game

- what he saw was anything but helpful

“jesus christ, how the fuck did she manage to trick him to date her”

“this guy makes her look even worse than she already does”

“he could do SO much better”

“I’d rather kill myself than be seen anywhere with her”

“maybe (Y/N) should be the one killing herself since she clearly doesnt deserve him”

“yeah haha u right u right”

- those messages were among more pleasant ones, but Spencer couldnt see those

- in fact, he couldnt even see the game anymore because he was staring at the chat log, and as a result his character died

“Spence? Everything alright?”

“How often do you see messages like that directed at you?”

- you knew what he was referring to without having to look in chat, you had really hoped you could hide the negative side of streaming for just a little longer

“Trust me, it’s alright. People behind a screen think they can be assholes without any comeuppance, and most of the time they’re right. Repercussions for them are minimal. Im lucky to get very few negative messages on my streams, Im used to that and I can cope.”

- Spencer shook his head, he was not happy with this

“You shouldnt have to get used to something like this.”

- with that, he stood up and grabbed his phone, the fans in your stream confused as to what was going on

- “Spencer, what are you-“

“Hey, Garcia, can you do me a favour? The scum of the internet are in (Y/N)’s stream chat, could you- oh, you already see them? Great. Yeah, I know, they’re disgusting.”

he walked back over to you and leaned over to look at your computer, scrolling back through chat to find the usernames.

“Scroll back to where user jnjmemes sent a crying laughing emoticon, you see the string of messages after that? Could you send every single one of those users a nasty virus? Thanks Garcia!”

- your jaw was hanging open, you stared at Spencer with wide eyes, completely lost for words while your fans in the chat were screaming over Spencer’s protectiveness of you

“Oh, one last thing Garcia, is it possible to set up a programme that automatically sends a virus to anyone who leaves a message of a similar nature? Of course you can do that, I should’ve known, thanks again!”

- he hung up and sat back down beside you

“There’s a lesson for all of you in this: dont say hurtful things to people online. But there’s a lesson even more important than that, which I hope you’ve all paid attention to.”

“What’s that?” You asked.

“Dont fuck with a woman in the FBI.”

[saras-devotionals]

Quiet Time 4/18

What am I feeling today?

A little overwhelmed and frustrated. I’m having a hard time balancing my spiritual life as well as other aspects (school, work, practice, etc.). I want to exceed in all but I just have no motivation to keep going

The Prideful Soul’s Guide to Humility

Pride is so wasteful. So much time is wasted because of pride. So much money and energy is wasted because of it. Those of us in the kingdom of God have a divine mission, and we have limited amounts of time, money and energy to carry it out. But how many of these valuable resources are wasted simply because of how stubborn, resistant and prideful we can be.

Think of all the time wasted when disciples could have been using an evening to find someone new to bring to Christ. Instead, those hours were spent trying to get some brother or sister who knew better to let go of their pride and just let God work. There is really no way to estimate how many hours could have been used for fresh impact on a waiting world that were instead spent trying to convince a prideful Christian of something that humility would have grasped in a moment

Pride is a nasty thing. Pride is as wicked as it gets. Pride hurts. Pride wastes. Ultimately, pride kills.

Reflection:

I think my problem is being honest with myself on the reality of it all. I always knew that I was a stubborn person that liked things my way (as I believe most people are) but I never saw myself as prideful. I never thought of it as an issue for me.

Looking through this book, I can see that I am prideful. I take pride in my academics and my looks. Actually I used to be very prideful of how smart I was when I was young but that took a crushing blow when I went on to middle school. Even in high school, I did even worse, getting Cs and Ds and actually wondering if a university would take me or if I’d have to end up going to community college. Even my freshman year of college was brutal and I failed a class. Tbh, I think that helped in knocking down my pride. I’m doing much better in school now by God’s grace because I really don’t know how else I could’ve continued going through nursing school if I didn’t have Him to rely on.

I know I began taking pride in my looks around middle school or early high school because that’s when I finally started getting attention from guys. I thought myself better than so many others and I’d go all out every day, wishing to outshine everyone with pretty outfits and showing off. In hindsight, it was kinda ridiculous but I took pride in it. Freshman year of college also brought me back down again - I had to get rid of more than half my clothes, I broke out terribly - my skin was the worst it’s ever been, I gained close to 30lbs and was the biggest I’d ever been. All of that really ruined my confidence and any pride I had in my looks.

Thinking back now, maybe this was God’s way of humbling me. Take things away I was prideful in as an attempt to break me down to a point where I would be willing to go to Him. Or maybe not, because when I did start studying the Bible was the period in my life where everything had turned around, I felt on top of the world and then I became a disciple and I do have this fear that if I enjoy too much what I have right now, God will just take it all away again.

I should clarify, I’m still prideful in my heart. Because I do still take pride in my looks and academics but I wonder where’s the line? Am I not supposed to be happy of my grades? Should I not feel good that I like the way I look? At what point does it become pride and how do I prevent myself from going there?

Additionally, I need to take it more seriously. I always saw pride as an annoying trait in other people but never really sinful. But after reading how God views it, how do I have that message move from my head to my heart that pride is truly deadly and I need to cut it from my life completely.

[ryanslaura]

the quarry - aftermath CHAPTER TWO

in my opinion, this story keeps on getting better😁😌

You and me, we're not the same I am a sinner, you are a saint When we get to the pearly gates You'll get the green light, I'll get the old door in the face Doo-doo-doo, I'm a loser, a disgrace -Problems Song by: Mother Mother

LAURA

I frantically pad the bed around me, searching for something.

My eye? No, I’m definitely seeing out of both of them right now. It’s something else…Someone else.

Max!

In my mind's eye he’s still in that cage at the Hackett’s jail, sneering at me right before he lashed out. But I’m not in the cell next to him, I’m laying in this bed, this large bed and when I sit up I can see the studio apartment littered with all my stuff; clothes all over the floor, piled up textbooks past their library due date, even that box of half eaten pineapple pizza from three days ago that made the whole apartment smell.

The studio apartment we used to share.

This time I sneer at myself for forgetting the last month. The moment of heartbreak that still hasn’t sunken in.

“I just can’t do it anymore Laura.” He’d said to me. “I’ve tried, but you’re…you’re a black hole and I’m sinking.”

A black hole huh…Well excuse me for having trauma from a traumatic event. I laugh with no humor at the memory. We both knew the horrific situation at Hacketts Quarry wasn’t all he referred to.

It was the moments that led up to that; Breaking into the storm cellar…Failing to confirm ahead of time if someone would be there…Staying when he said we should go…He was right…Only a black hole would drag her boyfriend into a camp massacre based on a wim.I throw the covers off and place my feet on the cold floor to feel something other than all the sweat pooling under my arms but I can’t escape the reminders of why Max left.

It only got worse after everything that happened. We hadn't even been back a week before I - hyped up on the idea that maybe I could change things in the real world like I did at camp - called his college to give them a piece of my mind. Not only did they block my number, but they blocked his application to their sister schools, too. Somehow, wind of it got to my nursing program and I was let go from that as well. At the time I wasn't phased; it didn't feel like the wrong thing to do; still doesn't. In my head it's simple - there was a problem: Max being rejected from school - so I provided a solution. They were the idiots for not seeing it that way.

Yeah right, Laura Black Hole Kearney.

I finally stand up, raising my arms above my head to get the kink out of my neck, and end up stretching out the rest of my limbs, continuing to ignore the alarm that's been going off since I woke up.

A feeling that there's something stuck in my throat reminds me of my plan; today I promised myself I would go to a job fair and try to find something fitting of the feelings that had taken everything from me. If I was going to be a black hole I may as well be one for the greater good. It's what Max would want, not that what he'd want should even be on my mind anymore.

But the sheer thought of leaving my room makes me want to throw the covers over my head and never leave. Ugh.

Oh no. I can feel my mind going to that dark place it often did in times like these, times where I felt alone and trapped and–

I wish I was back in Hacketts Quarry.

This time, I didn't push the thought away, instead I let it wash over me, along with that feeling I hadn't felt since; the feeling of being needed, of my impulsive decisions being essential to uncover the mystery of Hacketts Quarry and end it once and for all.

What I wouldn't give for one more; One more adventure, one more werewolf to kill, one more stubborn boy to fight with-

Ring RING. Not the same sound as my alarm. That can only mean…My heart jumps into my throat and I snatch the phone off the bed, my breaths coming in short bursts as I look at the caller ID which reads Unknown Number.

Squeezing the phone, I contemplate throwing it across the room, but then a sliver of hope peaks through the disappointment. What if this is still Max but with a new phone number?I have to hear it for myself. I swipe to answer the call.

“Thank God one of you answered, I've been trying to have a conversation with you both for months. Please, don't hang up.”

My hope fizzles into nothing; it's not Max. But the voice is still familiar. Distinctly familiar…

Something about the backwoods accent, the demanding tone mixed with obvious desperation. I audibly gasp.

“Travis Hackett?” I'm honestly expecting this to be a prank call from some idiot who heard about the camp case and wants to rub in how horrible it was, but only Travis would have the nerve to contact me again after all he put me through.

“I'm sorry for contacting you out of the blue, but there's something going on and I thought you should know; correction, you need to know.”

Why am I not hanging up the phone and why don't I want to? It's like those dark thoughts have created Travis and brought back the whole experience. Did I do this? Has my wish come true?

“What's been going on?” I asked, my heart starting to race again.

“The werewolves…Turns out we're not the only ones who've seen them…after the case was put on TV, I got calls from everywhere, people claiming to have similar experiences- countless people dead in one place, wolf-like creatures almost rammed on roads. These people were looking for help and I realized what was going on - we still haven't eradicated them.”

My eyes have only gotten wider with each word and my mouth feels dry as I ask,

“And where do I fit into this?”

“You've fought them before…you know what they're like; how to beat them. Why else would I be contacting you?”

“And why do you think I'd help you?” Anger flares along with my excitement. “What makes you think I'm even interested?”

“I don't. In fact, I expect that you'll hang up this phone and go on with your life. But if you choose this job you won't just be doing me a favor, you'll be helping people who can't help themselves, turning the tragedy into something better.” He pauses and I lean closer to the phone. “I know that's important to me, after everything.”

I can’t believe it, I’m actually considering this - I had to be to even let him talk.

And then I am back in Hacketts Quarry, in that jailcell, wishing I were either dead or had some large bomb to obliterate the camp and every decision that brought me there. I was there with Travis hearing all of his condescending statements and demands wondering whether he would be the last face I’d see.

Either he or Max’s.

Max’s!

It may have been my fault that we went into that storm cellar and even my fault that we ended up at Hacketts Quarry, but it was Travis and his wretched family that hired us in the first place knowing there were wolves roaming around. It was their wayward kids who got infected and his irresponsible brother who bit Max.

That was all his doing.

“Go figure it out yourself, better yet, why don’t you go join up with those wolves; It'll be a nice family reunion. Maybe then they'll leave everyone else alone.”

After slamming my thumb down on the End Call button, I drop my phone immediately, my hand shaking so hard along with my pounding heart that I almost don't hear the screen crack the moment it makes impact with the floor.

“Ughh!!” This day just keeps on getting worse. Tomorrow’s problem. I shake my head and step over the broken phone, beginning the trudge through my closet to find something for the job fair. I'll make sure I'm never desperate enough to consider a proposition from Travis again.

And besides, there has to be something at this job fair that beats jumping back into battle right?

Right?

[epic-dragon-hell-99]

going to start posting again maybe i just feel like ass. like why tf am i alive that shits not fair to other people bro. i heard mom complain abt gas prices spiking and if the us still gets most of its petroleum from where i think it does i have some ideas why and i kind of hope it gets worse. cant say that irl though cause it would suck for us but i think things should suck a bit more for us really. my dad makes good money but hes resigned to never retiring so im going to need to get a job after i finish college and that shit probably wont even be relevant to fuck all if i can get one to begin with and im probably not even gonna get beyond a bachelors degree ever and thats more than most people but it mightve been the worlds most expensive waste. i wish i didnt choose a college that sucks ass cause i was ill-informed and classist abt it at like 19. convenience is nice but im not sure it was worth it. although i think why i have fuckall irls is i just have a problem trusting people in general maybe. and idfk how to make the first move or have regular small talk or benefit people other than shoving money at em cause i never know what to say and i don't wanna make ppl drive me places. i can't drive fuuuuuuck. back to gas prices! none of that shit is important to anyone but my dumb ass but i hope the usa explodes forever or something goddamn I hate this shitass country in this hellhole society for real every day people are dying and for what. fuck. if they ever reinstate the draft you guys are welcome to come to my house so we can all break each others legs n shit. also i wish we didn't have to use gas in general but electric vehicles are like what. a tesla??? ew. and there's still a bunch of shitass minerals that kill people to get and that goes for like everything i wish we knew how to at least recycle this stuff. better. also me personally my parents live ~30min out from the major cities in either direction idfk why they did this gotta deal with a hoa and shit despite being damn near in the middle of fuckall. the Scary Woods is fun to dick around in i guess but i think if i described the size of my house + yard it would be obvious why i could probably use having a shittier life like goddamn i feel like it cause i get so scared of everything and hate myself abt it. cant even attempt to be a better person right cause everything feels like a chore and i already do bare minimum or less of those. so basically things could theoretically get a little better for me but i would really prioritize people who are getting killed and dying and shit. what if someone got the president and all members of congress in a hammer car explosion would that be scary or what [lying]

[sorcerous-caress]

Sol’s no truly good ending feels a lot like Karlach’s as Karlach also has to give in and go back to avernus in the good ending and even Astarion’s to a lesser extent all three of them sacrifice some degree of power or freedom and being trapped without powers I’m sure feels a lot like being with out sunlight or in avernus for sol. The unfairness even in good ending aligns well with the tome of the game.

Ah this isn't what their good ending was supposed to convey.

Astarion was turned against his will, Karlach had her heart stolen from her. Both were complete people before their life turned around.

Sol was born with this, it's not something that happened to them. It is them, part of themselves. They never lost anything to begin with while the other two did lose something.

Karlach can leave avernus eventually and Astarion can find a cure to walk into the sun maybe. What I'm saying is both of these endings are temporary, they can be changed eventually. Their sacrifice is temporary.

Sol's is permanent. They are cutting off a limb that will never grow back, killing a part of themselves because the world wouldn't accommodate it. Because it was consuming them.

And it is still a happy ending despite it all, because they end up happy. The part of them alive is still happy since how can someone who's died be sad? Astarion can mourn the sun, Karlach can miss the surface.

Sol is the one hurting themselves, they are their own main struggle. There is no cazador for them, no Gortash to blame. Their family was shitty yeah but they did just want to keep them alive, Sol was the person being a danger to themselves and everyone around them.

Karlach and Astarion already lost a part of themselves against their will. While Sol needs to make the choice to do that in order to be happy, to willingly lose a part of themselves.

Because as much as everyone says to always be yourself, what if the person you are isn't loveable? What if you don't have empathy or what if you hurt everyone around you without realising it? What if being yourself was the problem? You were the problem.

I said before that I made them to deal with my struggles with bpd and it still holds true. A lot of their bad traits are exaggerations of my own past ones. I too had to learn not to be myself, to manage my anger, resentment and to develop empathy.

Because the world can't accommodate you sometimes, but the need to belong, the urge to be loved and a part of something will always be stronger than the urge to be yourself.

In a perfect world, Sol wouldn't have had to change or kill a part of themselves. But it isn't a perfect world, and they are still human who craves happiness, a beautiful lie rather than the harsh truth of them truly being a greedy red dragon.

In their bad endings, they grow wings. Actual dragon wings instead of using magic to fly or float. It's to resemble freedom, that they are unloved yes but finally free and their true self no matter how ugly they've become.

In their good ending, they will mourn the ability to fly. They will miss having scales that let them get away with wearing whatever they want and how they need to wear armour now. They are less free, more shackled to the ground.

But they are a part of a community, accepted by humans, not scaring animals and not settling things on fire. They're happy, because loneliness is a much worse fate in their opinion.

Tho the message is definitely not "lol don't be your true self you should just try to fit in" that's just stupid.

The message is "some people can't be their true selves because others will always deem them unsettling or demonize them."

That sometimes being your true self will hurt you, sometimes your own brain and body is your worst enemy and you need outside interference to learn to manage it.

That some people will choose community and love over individuality, even if that choice is wrong.

Sol is chaotic neutral, they only care about their own happiness not what's right and what's wrong.

Their bad ending is technically the morally correct one, but to them it's the bad one for not resulting in their happiness.

Their good ending is the morally wrong one for them choosing to cut parts of themselves in order to live rather than die free. But it made them happy and that's all that matters.

It is unfair yeah like Astarion and Karlach. But for completely different reasons. Their birth itself was unfair rather than their life going in the wrong direction. If anything they had a lucky life for surviving themselves this long.

Their family would've set them free after making sure they're in full control, they had good intentions but took their ways and teachings to the extreme.

Sol's both good and bad ending is opting out of that cycle, refusing to play by the rules, refusing to preform or control themselves.

They either die free or kill the part of them keeping them behind. Evolve or die. No more middle grounds or hiding or treating themselves like a soon erupting volcano.

[they-are-a-prolife-autist]

I am literally also autistic, formerly impoverished, grew up in an abusive home, and a survivor of incestuous abuse. If I wind up pregnant one way or another (which would have to be against my will because I am NOT fucking no men) I am either aborting or killing myself. I'd rather die than be pregnant or give birth, I'm terrified and disgusted by it SPECIFICALLY BECAUSE OF MY TRAUMA.

Your background doesn't change the fact that other survivors can have completely different needs and feelings. If you advocate to take away peoples right to abort you ARE hurting other survivors whether you want to admit it or not. Based on a look through your blog we actually agree on a lot. For example I agree abortion CAN be a tool used by abusers/the patriarchy/etc, but it doesnt change the fact that if someone (especially assault victims) doesnt want to give birth, you are hurting them by forcing them to go through with it.

I saw a post from you where you said something about how once abortion is banned, we can address the root problems that causes people to need it. Ok. And until then? You just want to remove one of the only other options women in that situation have? How long do you seriously think it'll take before we reach a point where nobody needs abortion - I mean hello? You do know there are women and girls who are actually affected by these bans right

Hi! Looks like we have a lot in common. I do feel I need to clarify that I don’t use my background to try to speak over or silence others though. My autism and my upbringing have a lot of influence on my worldview and I talk about them not because they make the only authority on abortion, but because so many people talk about us as the worse case scenario “what if”a to justify abortion. I for one do not appreciate this and choose to tell my story my way, and with my own message of life. Not death.

Additionally I am very sorry to hear that your trauma would make you consider taking your life or your babies life should you ever become pregnant. Both of those instances would be tragedies to my thinking, as no human life is disposable. This is one of the reasons I advocate for accessible sterilization. No one who doesn’t want to become a parent should have to risk pregnancy, but once a pregnancy has occurred, there is a vulnerable dependent involved, who has a right to life, and it would be morally wrong to destroy them.

Lastly, yes. I would remove the option to kill because it is not a moral option. Yes it seems to make things easier, more “just” for those who suffer an unwanted pregnancy, but the slaughter cannot be justified. There ARE better ways; they DO require work. There is no perfect world where no one ever gets pregnancy unexpectedly. But we can choose to change the way we deal with it. First, we must prioritize human life and dignity. That means ending legal abortion.

[actress4him]

Whumptober 2023 - Day 15 - The Shadow and The Brute

This is the latest Brumaria AU, a Hero/Villain story! Bruno aka The Brute belongs to Izzy, and bits of his dialogue in this were written by her.

Taglist: @painful-pooch , @sssunshinebreeze

The Shadow of Death Masterlist

No. 15: “I don't need you to help me I can handle things myself.” | Suppressed Suffering

Contains: lady whump, touch aversion, strangulation, referenced whipping, referenced stress position, corporal punishment, hidden injuries

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Kamaria doesn’t feel like being here. Not that there’s anything new about that, being in good physical condition is a foreign concept and most of her missions aren’t anything she’s personally invested in, anyway. There are often a hundred other places she’d rather be than where she’s sent, in bed usually being one of them. 

But today is particularly bad. She usually at least gets a night to recover after a punishment before she’s sent out again, but no, Roderick had to get ticked at her for whatever reason this morning. And absolutely nobody cares that she has fresh whip marks on her back, chafing underneath her clothes, and they definitely don’t care that her throat is so bruised she can barely even speak. They only care about her taking out some low-level criminal that’s interfering with their plans for the city.

Which she’d be doing, no problem, except that The Brute showed up. Nothing new about that, either, and normally an encounter with him doesn’t exactly dampen her mood. But today, she really wishes that for once, he wouldn’t be so annoyingly good at his job. Why can’t he just leave her alone today? She just wants to kill the stupid criminal and go back to headquarters to lick her wounds in private, but she’s stuck here in one of their half-hearted fights, listening to his one-sided banter. 

“Looks like somebody didn’t get enough sleep last night.” Brute dodges yet another of her knife swipes easily, returning it with a punch that she just barely manages to miss herself. “You’re slow today.”

Usually she’d throw a barb right back at him, but just the thought of speaking makes her throat burn. She throws a knife, instead, which sticks in the brick wall just beside his ear.

“Ooh, not enough sleep makes you grumpy, too, I guess. Or should I say…even grumpier than usual? Going for the ‘silent and deadly’ style today.” He yanks the small knife out of the mortar and inspects it. “Doesn’t really bode well for me.”

Yes, she’s grumpy. She’d like to growl at him to shut up, she’s not in the right headspace to make light of this situation. Their fights barely qualify as such, since neither of them really want to harm the other, a fact that she absolutely refuses to examine and adamantly pretends isn’t true. She even sometimes enjoys getting to battle it out with the hero, even on days when her pain level is worse than usual. 

Maybe it’s because she can’t snark back at him and get into the mood of the fight. For whatever reason, she just wants to get this over with, but unfortunately just because he seems to kind of like her doesn’t mean he’s willing to back off and let her do her job. She’s going to have to somehow give him the slip if she wants to avoid even more punishment when she gets back.

“Seriously? Nothing to say at all?”

I have plenty to say. I’d like to say go away. Leave me alone. I need to do this so I don’t get beaten to a pulp tonight. 

I’d kind of like to ask how the only gentleman I’ve ever met ended up fighting on the side of the people I hate the most. Or why you seem to give a flip about me, a villain, at all.

I’d like to tell you that it feels like someone lit my back on fire, because I get the feeling you’d be the only person in the world that somehow actually cared.

She swings at him again, just nicking his arm with the tip of the blade. He doesn’t seem to notice, pushing closer and grabbing onto that wrist. Anyone else, she’d bring her left hand up and stab them directly in the chest. But it’s Brute. She can’t kill him, no matter how aggravated she might be with him. So she allows him to get close and doesn’t fight back yet, unaware of just how uncomfortable it’s going to be until he grabs her other arm, too, and spins her around to press her back into the bricks.

Her breath hitches in her throat, but her mind is only partially on the pain coursing through her back. He’s never pinned her before, she doesn’t usually let him. Being pinned means being hurt. 

But this is Brute. He never hurts her, not badly, at least. 

But he is hurting her. 

But he doesn’t mean to. 

Still, no matter how logical she tries to force herself to be about it, her instincts and memories are stronger. She struggles against him, face carefully blank but heart pounding too fast. 

Let go let go let go let go 

“Hey, calm down, Shadow. I’m not gonna hurt you!” He doesn’t let up, his grip strong but not bruising. “What is your deal today? Are you mad at me or something?”

Again, if he was anyone else, she’d be using the little bit of movement she has in her left arm to reach for another knife. Instead, she kicks at his shins, hoping to dissuade him. 

“Ow.” He still doesn’t let go. She might have to go for the knife after all. The longer she’s trapped, the less she’s able to think straight to see the problem with just stabbing him. 

“Shadow. Look, I’ll let you go in a second, but can you just tell me what’s -” He cuts off abruptly, leaning his face in closer. “Crap. What happened to you?”

She realizes suddenly that this close, he can see the bruises peeking out from underneath her hood. That’s not what she wanted at all, now he’ll start asking questions and she’ll have to try to explain, if not now then some other day because he’s Brute and he doesn’t give up. Forget not hurting him or her own split-open skin, she needs to get away. She shoves hard and kicks out again, reaching for the knife at the same time.

Thankfully, he lets her go this time, backing away with his hands spread in front of him. She still bolts away from the wall, adjusting her grip on the handle and holding out the blade as if he’ll attack.

“Who did that to you?”

Her back is even worse than before, thanks to scraping it up against the bricks. Now she needs to use her voice, too. “Doesn’t matter.” It sounds exactly as horrendous as she imagined it would, and feels like she’s swallowing nails. 

“Yes, it does.” He sounds so deadly serious about it. Is he offended that she’s faced off against someone besides him? If he knew it was her own handler he wouldn’t be. He’d probably laugh in her face about how pathetic she is.

“We’re in the same line of work. You know these things happen.”

Brute sighs, shaking his head. “I can barely get a hit on you…most days other than today. I know there’s more to this, Shadow.”

Kamaria forces a smirk. “Maybe you’re just not as good as the other heroes.” 

He rolls his eyes. ���Or maybe there’s a villain that’s been picking a fight with you.” Crossing his arms, he looks her up and down. “So who is it? Asking for a friend.”

“Can’t stand for someone else to be the one beating me up?” He needs to drop the subject so that she can stop talking. Maybe she can pretend to lose her voice altogether.

“I don’t think that counts as beating you up.”

“Not everyone is as reluctant to dirty their hands as you are.”

“Are you sure it was their hands they were dirtying?” He’s walking closer again, and she resists the urge to skitter backwards until he reaches out like he’s going to lift her chin with his fingers and inspect the bruises again. His hands go back up in surrender when she jerks away before he can touch. “I’m sorry! I won’t touch. But Shadow…” He sucks in a deep breath, jaw clenching and unclenching. “Is that a boot print?”

She can feel it almost as clearly as if it’s happening right now and not a few hours ago. Her lying on the floor where she’d been struck down, Roderick looming over her. The tread of his boot pressing, pressing, pressing into her throat. The delighted smile on his face. Her body jerking without her permission, desperate to get away even as her mind tells her she’s not allowed to fight back. Realizing with sudden dread that he may actually completely crush her throat, either killing her or taking away her voice for good. The darkness slowly taking over her vision as her oxygen supply dwindles.

Kamaria inhales sharply as if to prove to herself that she still can and focuses back in on Brute’s face. “I still think you’re jealous.”

“No, I’m not jealous because I have no desire to do such a thing to you.” He sighs again, running a hand through his hair. “You’re just as stubborn as always. Would you actually tell me if something was wrong?”

No. “Nothing’s wrong.” She smiles a little, trying to reassure him. Nothing’s wrong, this is just how my life is.

He grumbles a little under his breath. “Fine. Can we at least call this done and go home, since you clearly don’t feel like being here? You can just nod, you don’t have to speak.”

Grateful but trying to seem nonchalant, she gives a distinct nod. 

“Good. I’ll see you around, Shadow. Take care of yourself.”

He turns to leave, and Kamaria begins walking in the direction she was heading before, toward the criminal’s place of work. 

“Excuse me, I’m fairly certain that’s not the way you should be going right now.” Brute is glaring at her, arms crossed. Again, being annoyingly good at his job when she really needs him to just let her be.

She gives him her best innocent stare, but he just points toward where she came from. “I won this fight. That means you go home and don’t cause any more trouble today.”

Giving up any pretense, she glares daggers at him and turns on her heel, marching away. She can hear him chuckling behind her, completely oblivious to the trouble he is causing for her. She won’t give up yet, though. Being late on a mission still means punishment - and a longer time until she can properly care for her wounds - but it’s far worse to fail the mission altogether. She’ll bide her time, take the long way around, and try her best to take out her mark without any of the heroes catching her this time. Maybe she’ll get lucky for the first time today and only get stress positions instead of a beating or another whipping.