#there is no escape from this cesspit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

falesten-iw · 21 days ago

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On this day last year, my family faced a choice no one should ever have to make: stay in their home in Gaza and risk death or flee south, clinging to the slim hope of finding safety. Spoiler alert: there was no “right” answer. In Gaza, there never is. Families like mine would run from areas labeled dangerous, only to be bombed in so-called ‘humanitarian’ zones. Because in Gaza, no place is truly safe.

Each time they evacuated, they had the same gut-wrenching, desperate conversations on repeat: “Should we stay or go? Where would we even go? Do we send the women and children first, or do we all stick together?” Imagine trying to make life-and-death decisions with bombs falling around you.

One evening, a family friend offered them shelter, hoping the madness would calm down in a few days. My brothers agreed to move everyone there the next morning. But the bombs beat them to it. Just hours after that phone call, Israeli airstrikes hit our friend’s house. Thirty-five people, including children, gone. They never got a chance to move, and instead, they grieved for the lives lost.

They ran to Khan Younis, only for tragedy to follow. In November 2023, Israeli bombs hit my cousin’s house. I lost three cousins, their wives, and their children. It was chaos. Pieces of people scattered everywhere. A small child’s body lay unrecognizable until my cousin realized it was her son, Odi. His head was almost gone, but she knew him. She knew him by the shape of his teeth, his little toes. That’s the kind of loss no mother should ever face.

Since then, my family has moved over 50 times, haunted by the same questions: Where can they go next? How can they afford to survive another evacuation? Will they even manage to set up another flimsy tent?

And speaking of tents, imagine trying to live in one with your children. Picture makeshift cesspits serving as toilets, which fill up in a few weeks, forcing them to dig another. Comfort? Safety? Those words mean nothing. How do you sleep at night when your ‘home’ is a tent and your bathroom is a hole in the ground?

Talking about my family and Gaza breaks me, yet it also brings me a strange comfort. I refuse to let their stories fade. Their memories are beacons in the darkness, bittersweet reminders of joy and sorrow.

My family needs urgent help to survive this ongoing nightmare. Please, donate if you can. Share our story with your friends and family. Help us keep fighting, keep surviving.

Vetted and shared by @90-ghost: Link.

Verified and shared by @el-shab-hussein: Link

Listed as number 282 in "The Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser Spreadsheet" compiled by @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi : Link

Listed on the Butterfly Effect Project, number 957: Link

Additionally, Al Jazeera News has documented apart of my family's case: Link

If, for some reason, you couldn't donate via GoFundMe, you can donate via PayPal instead.

Note: There’s even a raffle for a handmade Palestinian thob if you want to participate : Link

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kafkaesque22girlfriend · 8 months ago

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The Damned P.1

Toji Zenin x fem! reader

Synopsis: forced to get in with the Zenin clan by your parents as a servant, Toji Zenin seemed to damn you more than himself….

Being a servant in the Zenin household was not for the weak-willed or the weak-minded, it took strong foundations of a strong mind to survive within these endless, lavishly adorned walls of the Zenin Compound. One of the three big clans in Jujutsu Society, blossoming the pure, clean bloodline of the strongest sorcerers in the modern and past Jujutsu eras.

Your parents pushed you into being here, young but not ditsy, focused yet polite. The Zenin really didn't care, they just wanted the free labour, but you did get a roof over your head when the Zenin took you in as a servant. Little did you know that your parents literally sent you off to serve strangers and live with them for God knows how long. Your cursed technique was strong and your parents wanted the Zenin to know that and get in with the family, even if you started as a lowly servant. To infiltrate? To gather information? To be married off? To destroy from the inside…? You didn’t know, nor did you care at this point.

The clan leader, Naobito Zenin, sent you off on your way as if he didn't give a single thought, as if he was washing away the dirt on his hands. You were young and inexperienced and you didn't deserve the reward of the bigger duties so you were sent Toji Zenin's way, the black sheep, the damned one in the Zenin clan. You would be the personal servant of Toji Zenin.

Which leads you here now, standing by the foot of his bed, ready to wake him up like you usually do. Late. It was nearing 11 am and the clan needed to be in the training quarters in about half an hour. You glanced at Toji, seeing the drool escape from his mouth, his hair roughed up, and the sheets that barely covered his naked chest. These were the only times you felt Toji not be intimidating. You opened up the curtains and the windows, letting the fresh air ventilate the room. He grunted when the light hit his eyes at the most perfectly uncomfortable angle.

“Get the hell out.” He groaned angrily as he covered his eyes with his bulky forearm.

“Rise and shine, Master Toji.” You say with a faint warmness, anything to keep this civilised and polite knowing he could lash out quickly. The light seeps through the room and bathes it in the sunlight. He looked peaceful lying there, it's shame you had to wake him. He never looked so peaceful while he was awake, and, sadly, we all know the reason why. Toii grumbled and groaned, lifting his arm from his eyes.

“Can't even fuckin' sleep in this damn house.” He opened his eyes and was met by the sight of the sun hitting against your silhouette. He then looked at your face and rolled his eyes, a sour expression filled his face once more. “And do me a favour, and don't call me 'master' if you don't want your teeth punched in.” Toji fucking hated that, fucking hated it all.

You immediately frown. “It's not like I want to call you that, you are my superior. I work for you, I have to refer to you as that.” You explain to Toji as if he didn't already know it clear as day. “Would you like me to bring in a gong and wake you up like that?” You say, a small smile tugging at your lips at the insane hypothetical.

“I don't give a damn if you have to call me that, just drop it.” He growled against his pillow, glaring at you in the process. Toji then sat up from the bed, resting his head on his right hand as he looked at you blankly. He couldn't help but believe that there was some charm to you in how you were so polite. Your expression had an innocence to it that he had never come across in the cesspit that was the Zenin compound. “If you dare bring a gong in here, I'll break it and then your ribs.”

You knew that he was very much capable of doing that, so you didn't push further. But your mouth ran faster than your brain.

“Well then Toji, if you break my ribs...who will be making you breakfast every morning? Speaking of which, if you want food, I'm making some. So get up.” You say a little more firmly this time, you've never been this challenging towards your superiors, part of you wants to take it back, what if the clan deject you for being disrespectful? You frown slightly and leave the room to head back to the kitchen and finish preparing his breakfast.

The first thing he did when you left the room was let out a groan of frustration. It was always like this, you were being too much of a pushover to him. Always too kind. That was what irritated him the most. Maybe he was projecting. He needed to stop thinking that. Toji got dressed into his montsuki and went into the bathroom to brush his teeth and freshen himself up, he hated how every day started the same.

Soon, you heard his footsteps walking towards the kitchen, a few seconds later his hulking figure appeared at the doorway, leaning against the frame as he crossed his arms.

“I can make my own breakfast.” He declared in a low and husky voice.

“No, you can't.” You say politely but your words carry some weight to them that resounded throughout the whole room.

Each clan member had a specific section of the compound to themselves, so you had an entire kitchen to yourself to prepare food for Toji. He couldn't make his breakfast even if he tried, servants were solely assigned that duty.

You glance up at him leaning against the doorway, you finish plating up his Teishoku and serve them, you place it on the kitchen island in front of you. “Coffee sir-? I mean Toji..” You say softly, fumbling over your words but correcting yourself.

Your words irked him like nothing else, you were so nice to him. He loathed it. What made you so kind in the face of someone like him? “Quit this 'sir' bullshit.” He was trying to play it cool, his eyebrows slightly raised as he spoke. Internally he was confused by your ongoing kindness, you were like this from day one. He didn't like the fact that he had to work around your kindness.

“I apologize. Bad habit.” You let out a nervous chuckle, trying to ignore the burning green gaze zeroing in on you. Your expression was trying to hide the fact that you were uncomfortable with his presence. Toji was a little more than impressed by how you were handling him like this still. After all, most people would be scared shitless already.

As you hand him his coffee, Toji notices the band-aids on your fingers. The skin looked red and brittle and it made him raise an eyebrow. “What happened to them? And don't say 'nothing' or 'it's nothing.” Toii muttered under his breath, trying to distance himself but still be curious at the same time.

“Oh, I burned myself by accident, the stove was too hot.” You respond a little curtly, turning your back and starting cleaning up and clearing away. It was clear you didn't want to talk about it, the real reason was rather daunting as Naoya Zenin threatened to break your fingers because you didn't do a task correctly.

Toji watched with intent simmering eyes as you turned your back to him. The first thing was that your reasoning behind it was obvious bullshit. You were lying through your teeth but quite frankly he didn't car enough to pry even further. "You're really clumsy, aren't you?”

Your shoulders relax as you sigh out, thankful he wasn't reading into it. “I am...I am. ..quite clumsy.” You breathe out.

You both know damn well you were the opposite but for now, it'll do. You turn around and take his empty tray once he finishes eating, giving him an agreeable smile. “Your training starts soon.”

Toji raised his eyebrow as an unamused look was engrained on his face. Why was his rudeness not affecting you in any way? Maybe you weren't listening to a thing he said, which made him even more annoyed. So he decided to try another approach. He just...didn't like how you...talked to him. “Can you stop being so polite to me? I never understand why servants are like this to their masters. Just do your job and stop acting like this.” He grunted.

You turn around and glared at him, annoyed that he didn't realize that you’re just doing your job. Anything less than perfection and obedience would be punished. But then again...who the hell were you to argue with a Zenin? “If that's...what you prefer.” You shrug your shoulders. You thought maybe he would appreciate some form of kindness considering the way his family actively despised him.

“Good...because there's no reason to be nice to me when I'm anything but.” He warned me you lowly. Toji was expecting you to break and lash out at him. Yet your reaction and expression left him feeling a little off-put. Why? Why weren't you saying anything? Why aren't you letting him walk all over you? He didn't like those thoughts.

Reluctantly, you nod your head, lips thinning into a straight line, and you try to stay as neutral as possible. If this is what he wanted, who the hell were you to argue? After finishing cleaning the kitchen, you make a move to leave the room. As you made your way to leave, Toji couldn't help but notice that your back was as straight as an arrow. Your body looked so proper and elegant, unlike others. Just your simple back in that tight-fitting kimono was enough to make him stare a few moments longer than necessary. That's when he called out to you and spoke with a neutral expression: “Do you always have to be so proper and respectful?”

Yet his voice was...softer.

You stop in your tracks. “I'm just doing my job.” You reply quietly, trying to get him to grasp that you're just doing what you're supposed to do. You walk away and leave him wordless from the kitchen, letting your words linger in his brain a lot longer than he should have.

pt 2 coming soon, get ready for angst and sexy times in the near future.

#toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji zenin #toji x reader #toji fushigro x reader #toji angst #toji smut #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu toji #toji fluff

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libraryofgage · 1 year ago

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SpiderPool Steddie Part One

So, this is definitely gonna have multiple parts lmao

It's been bouncing around my brain for a while like the Addams Family Steddie AU lol

Anyway, lemme know if you'd like to be tagged for future parts ^_^

----

Sister Margaret's School for Wayward Girls is, at best, a dive bar. At worst, it's a cesspit in which the scummiest people in the city gather to bask in each other's scumminess. To Steve, however, it's the perfect place to collapse after a long patrol, splayed out like a starfish on the roof as the music playing inside vibrates the building itself.

Steve takes a deep breath, setting his bat down next to him before pushing his mask to the bridge of his nose. He then lies down on the roof, wishing not for the first time that the city's light pollution wasn't so bad. Seeing the stars and hunting for constellations would really help him ignore the cracked ribs screaming inside his chest and threatening to break if he even breathes wrong.

All things considered, though, it could be worse. Steve doesn't have any morning classes, Vecna didn't beat him up nearly as bad as he usually does during their fight earlier, and his accelerated healing means Steve will be able to breathe normally by morning. Robin would tell him he has a very low bar when it comes to judging how shitty his life currently is, but she isn't here, so her opinion doesn't matter. Dustin would tell him he should try not getting his ass whooped in the future. Thankfully, he also isn't here, making his opinion as meaningful as Robin's.

Steve closes his eyes, letting his shoulders relax and trying not to think about anything. It sort of works until his entire body suddenly tenses, every nerve on edge and goosebumps shooting across his arms. He shoots up, ignoring the harsh twinge in his ribs as he turns in a crouch and grabs his bat. Steve clenches his jaw, breathing harshly through his nose to keep from groaning in pain, and feels relieved he didn't completely remove his mask completely.

Over by the door leading to a staircase is a guy with ripped jeans, a worn-out shirt with "HELLFIRE CLUB" across the chest, a jean vest covered in patches and pins, and hair pulled back out of his face with a few wavy strands stubbornly escaping his hair tie. He's breathing a little heavily, his face flushed like he's just climbed a few flights of stairs. Actually, he probably has.

"Woah," the guy says, his voice soft enough that Steve would have missed it if not for the enhanced hearing. The guy clears his throat and holds up both hands, showing off a bottle of Jack Daniels in one and a bag with a grease-stained bottom in the other. "Uh, I come in peace. I didn't realize the rooftop was taken."

Steve has no clue what possesses him, but he forces himself to relax and set the bat down. "No, it's okay. I can head out," he says, staying seated despite his words. He's really hoping the guy will insist he doesn't need to; his ribs are still aching like a bitch.

Thankfully, the guy flashes a grin and slowly lowers his hands. "Nah, you're all good. Not every day I get to eat next to a hero. Want some fries?" he asks, walking over and sitting a good two feet away so there's plenty of room between them.

He tears open the bag to create an impromptu plate and puts it between them, the smell of greasy and undoubtedly delicious fries tempting enough that Steve picks up a smaller one and pops it into his mouth. "Thanks. Where are these from?" Steve asks, glancing over as the guy twists the cap of his bottle and takes a swig.

"A burger joint two streets down and one street over. On the corner."

Steve nods, making a mental note of the directions so he can get a burger before swinging home. He's got just enough in his pocket to afford one. "So, got a name?" Steve asks, figuring he's already eating the guy's fries and they're about to spend some time together on this roof. He should know the guy's name.

The guy's grin returns, and he sets the bottle down between them as well. It's tempting, but Steve doesn't trust his alcohol tolerance to hold up while his body is busy fixing his ribs. "Eddie. Do I get to know your name, too?"

Steve snorts and leans away slightly, putting a bit more distance between Eddie and his entirely too-grabbable mask. "Nice try," he says.

"Worth a shot," Eddie says, shrugging as he picks up a few fries. "So, Spider-Man, what brings you to Sister Margaret's? You enjoy the gay metal scene?"

"What's the difference between gay and regular metal?"

"Our hair is better," Eddie explains, dramatically flipping the few strands of hair escaping his tie.

Steve has to hold back a second snort, taking another fry and chewing on it before saying, "I like resting here after patrol. The whole building shakes with the music."

Eddie lights up, his eyes brightening and his back straightening some. "So, you're a fan of Corroded Coffin," he says, taking another swig of the Jack Daniels. It's only now that Steve realizes it's already a quarter of the way gone, and he wonders if Eddie's liver can handle that much alcohol all at once.

"Is that the name of the band?"

"Yep. They play here almost every night."

"I'm guessing you like them, too, then?"

Eddie hums, amusement dancing across his expression now, giving Steve the distinct feeling that there's some secret he simply isn't in on. "They're the best band I've ever heard. Their music is incredible. They really push the boundaries of the genre. And their lyrics? Amazingly layered with at least three meanings per line. I highly recommend actually coming in for a listen one of these days," Eddie says, leaning a little closer to Steve.

A beat of silence passes in which Steve holds Eddie's gaze. Or, he holds the gaze on his end; he's sure Eddie can't actually tell with the mask covering his eyes. "You're in the band," Steve says.

"Lead guitarist and singer, yes. I also write the songs."

"You're incredibly critical of yourself, really grounded in reality."

Eddie barks out a laugh. "I just happen to know my worth incredibly well."

"You have all the confidence of a mediocre white man on a job hunt."

Eddie gasps, placing a hand on his chest as he looks at Steve. "How dare you call me mediocre. I am revolutionary at worst and the second coming at best."

"You know the second coming involves, like, an apocalypse or something, right?"

"I'm Jewish, why would I bother with the fine details?" Well, Steve will give him that. "By the way," Eddie says, gesturing to Steve's bat as he continues, "do those nails actually see any use? Or are they just there to act as a threat?"

Steve looks down at his bat, considering it for a moment before carefully holding the middle and offering the handle to Eddie. Now that he's giving them a few moments of attention, he's realizing the nails embedded in the end are a little rusty and definitely need cleaning. "I try not to be deadly with it, but Vecna's got these lab-grown demon dogs and bats that always manage to break through my webs," Steve explains.

He watches as Eddie takes the bat, weighing it in his hands before shoving his palm into the nails. Steve jerks, a wordless shout escaping his throat as he launches himself over the fries and in front of Eddie. "Are you okay?!" he asks, grabbing Eddie's hand and shakily inspecting the nails sticking through it. Fuck, those are going to be a bitch to get out, and he'll probably have to swing Eddie to the hospital for a tetanus shot.

Being angry doesn't even register in his brain as Eddie laughs. "Don't worry about it, Spidey," he says, pulling his hand off the nails with a slight wince. He wiggles his fingers, letting Steve have a front-row seat to the injuries closing. "See, good as new."

And he's right. The injuries are good as new. In fact, there isn't even any scarring, and Steve almost rips his mask off to take a closer look but stops himself at the last minute. Instead, he grabs Eddie's hand and yanks it closer, turning it over to check his palm, too. "What the fuck?" he asks, looking up at Eddie, still gripping his hand tight.

"Super healing," Eddie explains. "Like, super duper. If I ever get decapitated, just hold my head to my neck, and I'll be right as rain."

"I'd rather not put that claim to the test," Steve says, frowning slightly as he runs his fingers over Eddie's palms, just to make sure the injuries aren't somehow hidden from sight.

"You know, I kissed the last guy who touched my palm like that," Eddie says, leaning in again with that grin.

Suddenly all Steve can think about is how Eddie's lips do look soft. And it has been a while since Steve actually kissed anyone. And he does think Eddie is funny. And he does find himself wondering if his smile will taste like the Jack Daniels and fries. And...and...

And Steve needs to go before he does anything he shouldn't be doing as Spider-Man.

He jerks back, dropping Eddie's hand like it burns, and ignores the ache in his ribs as he grabs his bat and stands. "I, uh, I need to get going. Thanks for the fries, Eddie," he says, hurrying over to the edge of the roof.

"Woah, just gonna eat and run on me, big boy?" Eddie asks, scrambling to his feet and over to where Steve is climbing onto the edge of the roof. "That's not very hero-like of you. You haven't even left me your name or number. How are you gonna pay me back $2.50 for the fries?"

"I had five," Steve says, turning to look at Eddie as he webs his bat to his back and pulls his mask down over his chin.

"The economy sucks, man."

Okay, he's got Steve there. Again. "Nice try, Eddie."

"Can you blame a guy? Your ass looks great in that spandex."

Steve is suddenly relieved his mask is back down, covering the furious blush spreading across his cheeks. He'd think it was just a joke, but the sincere and somewhat goofy smile tugging at Eddie's lips tells him it's more genuine than anything else. "Thanks," Steve says, giving Eddie a two-finger salute before taking a step back off the roof.

He shoots a web at the edge of the building, using the momentum to swing around the corner. His ribs are killing him with the movement, but he still manages to throw a, "See you later, Eds!" over his shoulder before he's completely out of earshot.

Later, Steve will wonder how Eddie got his super healing, if he's that flirtatious with every guy he meets on the roof of Sister Margaret's, and if he'll be there the next time Steve swings by. But that's for later. For now, he's just enjoying the breeze rushing over him and thinking about Eddie's eyes and his smile and his long fingers.

#Steddie #Spiderpool Steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #spiderman steve harrington #deadpool eddie munson #it'll make sense i promise #also Eddie goes back into the bar and immediately starts bragging about flirting with spider-man #everyone immediately knows he's about to become Annoying (TM)#and resign themselves to their fate #Robin does the exact same when Steve gets home and tells her about Eddie #RIP everyone who has to live with these two gushing about each other

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 year ago

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"Oh dear, what an awkward situation."

Awkward indeed… 😅

With this, I’ve completed the “Rollo is tormented by visiting the dorms” series of headcanons 🫶 Hope you enjoyed, Roro-chan 💕 (I still have some Rollo at the Writing Desk interactions to post after this, so technically his torment isn’t over quite yet…)

A Big Diasomnia Welcome to Rollo!

“At last, I have completed my itinerary. There is nothing more for me to see here, nor do, at Night Raven College.” That’s what Rollo tells himself as his stay crawls to its final few days. He has done it—through sheer mental fortitude and hatred he has endured this cesspit and avoided being dragged into Draconia's domain!!

Rollo is returning to his temporary quarters for the night when he notices that the fireflies are out. Glowing orbs flit by him in a slow, showy dance. Strange, he thinks. It’s well into autumn now. They shouldn’t be out past summertime.

... But something is wrong. The fireflies are swarming, coalescing into a single humanoid form. There is a blinding flash, and the glowing orbs are flung outward again, ushering in a new presence. Tall, dark, handsome, and crowned by a distinctive set of devilish horns. Rollo takes a stumbling step backwards. "YOU!!"

Malleus Draconia, in the flesh. The fae prince gives a toothy smile, reaching out a hand to him. "Good evening, Flamme. What an honor it is to be reunited with you. It has been far too long.”

“Not nearly long enough if you ask me,” Rollo snaps. He turns away and briskly walks toward his housing, prepared to slam the door in Malleus’s face—but Malleus has poofed away and reappeared to block his path. “Going so soon? But we’ve yet to have the chance to properly catch up. I was going to extend an invitation to a most extravagant dinner party in Diasomnia."

"I have no interest in such a thing," Rollo declares, weaving around him. "Good-bye." This time, Malleus does not follow. He stands there, eyes intensely bearing into Rollo as he flings open the door to his abode and... "What in the world?!"

Beyond the frame is not the usual foyer, but instead a sinister new scene, morbid stone and diamond-stitched furniture faintly illuminated by eerie green candlelight. An ominous throne waits along the far end and up two mirrored slights of stairs. The Diasomnia lounge.

Rollo whips his head back, glaring at Malleus. "You're responsible for this wicked enchantment, aren't you? You're not giving me any say in this matter." To that, Malleus only darkly chuckles. "It is the duty of any good host to ensure that his guest is comfortable and feels... welcomed. Fufufu, I am playing my part well, wouldn't you agree?"

"Feh! To weaponize your magic for such a trivial, petty thing... I never thought the great and powerful Malleus Draconia would be so low as to stoop to kidnapping," Rollo glowers. "You continue to drop the bar of my expectations for you. I would be impressed if I didn't utterly loathe you and your entire existence. Know this, Draconia: I won’t fall for such an obvious scheme. I would sooner set myself ablaze than play into your hands."

Malleus doesn’t seem to be bothered by the declaration so full of passion and hatred. He grins mysteriously and waves a hand. “Silver, Sebek. You may do as you will with our dear guest.”

A collective “YESSIR!!” sounds from behind Rollo—he turns too late, for the two guards have emerged and reached out from the magical doorway to Diasomnia. Rollo (helplessly struggling like a fly caught in a spider’s web) is seized by the two burly men and hauled through the gate, Malleus casually strolling in and closing the door after himself.

Rollo is (aggressively) seated on (well, more like chucked onto) one of Diasomnia’s couches. His body aches from the impact, his vision swimming from the shock. Sebek and Silver loom over him, preventing his escape.

“Sorry about this,” Silver says apologetically. “Malleus-sama’s orders.” Sebek, on the other hand, is far less forgiving. “Hmph!! Consider yourself fortunate that the young master is as merciful as he is! AND THANK HIM FOR THE INVITATION IN SPITE OF YOUR PREVIOUS TRANSGRESSIONS!!”

“Now, now! Let’s not scare the poor lad, boys,” a deep voice advises them. FWUMP!! A short boy with dark hair and magenta streaks descends from the ceilings, spooking away what is left of Rollo’s soul. “Lilia Vanrouge, vice dorm leader of Diasomnia."

Lilia vigorously grabs and shakes Rollo’s hand. His grip is immense—a contrast to his youthful appearance—practically crushing Rollo’s fingers. Rollo yanks his head back in alarm. "Teehee, did I do that?" Lilia asks innocently. "Silly me, I don't know my own strength!" (... Rollo doesn't believe him.)

"So excited to finally meet you! I’ve heard so many stories—like how you’re the first person to have struck fear into the heart of our Malleus.” Beaming like the sun on a cloudless day, Lilia leans into their guest’s ear and whispers, “There had better not be any of the same stunts you tried to pull the night of the masquerade~ You try any of that funny business again and Lilia-chan will make sure you regret it <3”

Rollo is unnerved by the message—it’s friendly and teasing, but a vaguely threatening tone lies beneath it. When he looks again at the young-looking boy, he sees the darkness radiating off of him, the ancient wisdom in his eyes. A shiver rolls through his spine.

"Kufufu. Juuuust kidding! Let's all be the best of friends, okay?" Lilia says with a cheeky wink. Rollo's not sure if his cheer or his seriousness is more disturbing.

Malleus is so glad that everyone has gotten acquainted! It’s been so long since they’ve had the opportunity to host someone. He looks as jubilant as a kid in a candy store (whereas Rollo looks like a cat on the side of the road that someone splattered with a puddle’s worth of muddy water).

Before the meal, Malleus is eager to show Rollo the dormitory (“You enjoy history, Flamme. Diasomnia has plenty of it to offer. Allow me to show you—”). Rollo is sandwiched between Malleus (who leads the way) and Sebek, Silver, and Lilia in the back and at his sides. (He glares at the back of Malleus’s head and quietly wills for him to meet a fiery and painful end.)

... Likewise, Sebek is glaring and thinking the same of Rollo. He's only keeping his trap shut in the presence of Lilia-sama and Malleus-sama!! (Silver sighs to himself, wondering if this evening will really play out alright.)

Malleus rattles off details the past and the antiques which decorate Diasomnia. (There is of course a segment about gargoyles too.) In any other scenario, Rollo would have found the information fascinating--but darn that Draconia for tainting this experience for him!! (With each fact Malleus provides, Rollo's face increasingly twisted with disgust.)

Every so often, Sebek interjects with loud praise for Malleus's wealth of knowledge. His fanboying is so incessant that it echoes in Rollo's head long after the compliments have already been uttered out loud. Where's the brain bleach when Rollo needs it the most?

He thinks he’s hallucinating things when he sees a stampede of animals heading for him from the other end of the hallway—but as they get bigger and louder, Rollo realizes that no, it’s very much real. The animals surround Silver, who greets them with a soft smile and introduced his friends to Rollo.

“Do you want to pet them, Rollo-senpai?” Silver offers. Rollo calmly replies, “No thank you. I do not make it a habit of handling animals outside of the occasional horse—” Too bad for him though, squirrels and birds are already nesting in his hat and a deer is chewing on the ends of his robes…! Rollo’s eyes twitch in annoyance as he goes about untangling himself from the deer and shooing away the birds and squirrels.

When they arrive at the dorm rooms, Lilia pipes up with an idea: "I know! I'd like to show our guest some things from my room. It'll be just like a sleepover." (Rollo frowns. "... In what way is this like a sleepover? If possible, I would like to avoid it." Sebek agrees, vehemently advising against showing "the enemy" their private quarters.)

Lilia shakes his head and wags at finger at him. "You should be more accepting, Sebek! Yesterday's foes can be today's friends." (Silver and Malleus agree with Lilia, so it's 3 votes to 2.)

"Welcome to Lilia-chan's ultra-cute heart-thumping bedroom <3" ... It's the most cluttered place Rollo has ever laid his eyes on, even worse than Idia's. He strains to hide the disgust on his face. Lilia for his part, is ecstatic. He rushes about the room, collecting armfuls of trinkets and artifacts to show off. Each comes with its own story from a different part of Twisted Wonderland.

Lilia even shows off a massive cleaver he claims he used “back in the day to cut my enemies down~” It launches Sebek into another round of extolling his superior. Meanwhile, Rollo stares blankly at the weapon and wonders how much of what Lilia just said was fact and how much of it was fiction.

"You know, Rollo-kun, there's so much we can learn from other people and cultures," Lilia tells him, holding up a handkerchief of his own. Rollo recognizes it as one from the City of Flowers--the joke items children blow into to release smoke and confetti, startling others. (Hmm? Did Silver purchased an extra one for his vice dorm leader? Hadn’t he just gotten one for his father?) "I hope that you can keep an open mind tonight."

“… Yes, I will try.” (It’s a lie.)

Using his own handkerchief as a makeshift mask, Rollo does his best to not inhale too much of the air of this magic-infested place. Lilia asks him if he's feeling ill (Rollo is tempted to respond, "Yes, I am sick... sick of you lot of fools!"), to which Rollo replies that he's feeling peckish.

“Shall we head into the dining room?” Malelus suggests, but Lilia tells him, Sebek, and Silver to go ahead of him and Rollo. (“You boys run along and make the necessary preparations! We’ll catch up later.”)

When it’s just the two of them, Rollo finds Lilia staring wistfully into a tin. Some withered old acorn bracelet is inside. It’s nothing special, but Lilia looks at it as though it’s the greatest treasure in the entire world. He replaces the lid and regards Rollo and a serious expression.

“… I empathize with you, you know. Losing a loved one is never easy. I don’t wish for anyone—not even my worst enemy—to experience the pain that I did. It hurts, I know—but there is an opportunity to heal, to learn, to grow. That’s why I will do everything in my power to protect that dream, to bring about a world of peace and love, not war and hate. It is my hope that you, too, recognize this. The last thing I would want to do is to obliterate Malleus, Sebek, and Silver’s first friend from Noble Bell College.”

Rollo frowns, disconcerted by the promise of peace and love. No, it’s just not possible in a world where magic exists. “We will have to agree to disagree. I have my convictions as well. I do not intend to waver. And a correction: we are NOT friends.”

Lilia giggles. “What are friends, if not people who spend time together and get on each others’ nerves? You are plenty friends with them, if only you would allow yourself to be.” He prances over to Rollo and taps him in the heart. “Riiight here.“

“Wha…?! G-Get away from me!!” Rollo bats at the ancient fae, who only laughs and runs off with Rollo in hot pursuit. He chases Lilia all the way down the hall, where they’re both stopped by the sight of the dining room.

It’s lovely—an obsidian black tablecloth thrown on a long table, their best china and silverware out, crystal vases of fresh cut roses and candelabras alit with pulsating green flames welcoming them. Platters of succulent food and drink float in the air, suspended by magic.

“Dinner is served,” Malleus announces. With the way of his hand, the dishes slowly settle onto the table. The dorm leader beckons everyone to sit. Silver and Sebek nod and obey. Lilia claps his hands in delight. Rollo wants to vomit in his mouth.

The seating arrangement is deliberate. Malleus at the end of the table, Lilia on one side of him and Rollo on the other. Silver sits next to Lilia, and Sebek next to… Rollo… “Why does HE get the honor of the seat across from Lilia-sama and next to the young master?! THAT SHOULD BE ME!!!” Sebek thunders. (The entire meal, Rollo feels the first year angrily staring at him.)

Rollo forces himself to eat the food that has likely been prepared by magical means. He figures that if his mouth is preoccupied with eating, then he won’t have to engage in whatever stupid conversations Diasomnia brings up.

Sebek talks about a book he has been reading. He visibly puffs up as he recites the details of it, like he’s an eager puppy expecting praise for his memory. Silver mentions that some of his bird friends will migrate south soon, and that he will miss them until their inevitable return in the spring. Lilia tells a story about a raid he went on with his gaming buddy (Gloomy Samurai) and how he dove off the stage during one of his club meetings. (One of these things is not like the other, Rollo thinks.)

At one point in the meal, Silver almost falls asleep in his soup and a flock of birds have to work together to lift his head up and avoid disaster. Rollo cringes at the wild animals being so close to their food—who knows what manner of diseases they carry or where they’ve been?! Thankfully, he manages to keep his mouth shut, as he’s sitting far enough away for his own food to be safe.

Though Rollo keeps avoiding speaking to Malleus, Malleus certainly doesn’t do the same. In fact, he seems to delight in provoking Rollo. Malleus will talk excitedly about gargoyles and then make an aside to ask Rollo, “how do the gargoyles of Noble Bell College fare?” The same trend occurs for other topics as well. It makes Rollo nearly choke on his food or spit up a drink more than once.

He tries to keep his replies short and to the point, but Malleus often presses for elaboration or continues the conversation from Rollo’s response. (Sebek looks on enviously, chewing on his napkin to stave off the anger.)

Lilia declares that he has a surprise for everyone!! He runs off and returns with a dish covered by a silver dome. Silver pales, Malleus is taken aback, and Sebek is suddenly grinning deviously. “Ta-daaaah! I made dessert in advance!! I thought to myself, ‘I can’t let our dear guest walk out without trying some of my world-famous cooking!’”

Lilia whisks the lid off, revealing… a bubbling blob in shades of brown, violet, and murky green. Chicken bones, bits of chopped fruit, and shredded greens peek out from its mushy surface, which appears to have the consistency of a liquid and a solid at the same time. It smells like skunk juice and death. Rollo uses his handkerchief to hold his nose and to keep from being ill.

“Rollo-senpai, I don’t think you should…” (“Come now, human!” Sebek says smugly, interrupting his fellow knight. “Lilia-sama went to the trouble to prepare this treat for you! Do not waste his valiant efforts!!”)

“You think I would sample a dish so obviously dubious?!” Rollo cries, offended at the idea. “How foolish do you think I am?!” (“Oh my, no need to fight over my cooking, boys!” Lilia chirps. “There’s plenty to go around!” But no, Sebek loudly insists that their esteemed guest eat it all up—after all, when will Rollo have the chance to be graced with Lilia’s cooking again?)

As they’re arguing, no one noticed Malleus scooping a spoonful for himself until he has the bite hovering close to his lips. Sebek, horrified, begs his liege to think better of it. Silver, too, warns him. (Lilia cheers him on. “You have such a healthy appetite!”)

“Please, young master!! You know what the consequences are…!!” Sebek pleads with him. Malleus insists he must do this. “It is a show of good faith—and furthermore, a leader is expected to make sacrifices for the good of his people.” (Rollo feels like he’s watching a historical soap opera.)

Malleus brings the spoon to his mouth (Sebek leaps across the table, fully intent on eating that bite just to protect his prince from it) and… collapses onto the floor in a heap. His knights immediately rush over, calling out his name and trying to rouse him. Lilia claps both hands over his mouth.

Rollo rises from his seat too, but not for the reason anyone expects. His expression slowly shifts from neutral to a frenzied excitement. “Hm… hm hm hmm… ha ha hah… HAAAH HAH HAH HAH HAAAAAH!! At last… At long last, Malleus Draconia’s revolting presence has been wiped clean from this world! Slain by the hands of your own retainer…! Betrayed by your trusted ally, done in by your own hubris!! Oh, how ironically delicious!! There could be no better way to conclude what has been an otherwise odious evening!!”

Silver gaped at him in horror. Sebek is consumed by anger and upset. “WHY, YOU NO GOOD—!!” The first year charges, tackling Rollo to the ground. Silver follows, trying to pry the two apart. There’s shouting and laughing, fists flying and fumbling for a magical pen to exact righteous judgment—

Lilia calmly walks over to the body and crouches down. He pokes his fallen dorm leader’s cheek. “… Malleus, don’t you think you’ve scared them for long enough? I’m all for theatrics, but it’s a rather cruel prank to pull on our guest~” He pouts. “Besides, it’s not like my cooking is bad! You’re being overdramatic.”

“HUH?!” The three boy look on (Sebek and Silver in relief, Rollo in horror) as Malleus smoothly rises like a corpse from the grave. He chuckles darkly at their shocked expressions all the same, drinking in their surprise like a monster might relish in fear. Malleus dusts himself off and gives a luminous smile. “Forgive me, I could not help myself.”

A teary Sebek flings himself at Malleus to happily sob at his revival. Silver shakes his head, but he’s smiling too.

Rollo comes down from his high, and embarrassment sets in to replace it. He sits back in his seat to keep from collapsing himself, taking steady and deep breaths through his handkerchief.

They clear up Lilia’s dessert (no one’s in the mood to try any more of it since the prank) and move into the lounge to unwind after dinner. (Rollo tries to leave early, but Malleus isn’t having it.)

Sebek happily volunteers to prepare coffee for everyone! He parades in with a tray of it, passing them to Malleus, Lilia, and Silver—in that order. “… I’ll take mine with a little milk,” Rollo requests, as he’s usually used to a cafe au lait to go with his lunch every day.

Sebek needles him a bit for the request, going on and on about how he can’t believe an adult would still take their coffee with additives and how truly immature Rollo must be if he can’t stomach coffee black. He’s (unintentionally) undercut when Solver bluntly points out that Sebek usually takes his with tons of milk, creamer, and sugar to balance out the bitter edge. This causes Sebek to flush red and stammer out a weak defense, and Rollo smirks. It’s the little victories like this that curb his temper.

Malleus puts on a violin performance for them all. He plays a stringed rendition of the Kindly Bellringer’s song, a wish for a hope-filled future. (Rollo hates to admit it, but Malleus has impressive technical skill as a violinist.)

Sebek is nearly moved to tears just listening. Silver has to stop Lilia from rushing to join in with his electric guitar, offering to dance with his vice dorm leader instead. Their height difference makes for a silly sight as they swing together, but they have a lot of fun doing it.

… Rollo doesn’t understand it. How can this group of misfits be so happy like this? Looking at them, they almost come off like some happy-go-lucky family. Even though they don’t share blood. Even though they’re so different…

It is late. Again, Rollo tries to excuse himself. His mind is fried and worn out from all the excitement and the stress of forced friendship with Diasomnia. Unfortunately for him, Malleus has one more trick up his sleeve. The prince promises, however, that it is the last one. “… Why should I trust you?” Rollo asks, to which he gets no answer. Malleus and Lilia only exchange a knowing look.

The group is led out into the garden. Unlike that of Heartslabyul or even Pomefiore, Diasomnia’s is not lush. Thick plants grow over everything, bearing bramble sharp enough to draw blood and driving onlookers away.

One powerful wave of ice magic is all it takes to convert it into a winter wonderland. Light snowfall drifts down upon an icy road, the thorns turned into abstract works of art encased in glass. Rollo begins to berate Malleus for his lax use of magic for his own pleasure, but Malleus just laughs and tugs Rollo along insisting that they build a snowman together.

Sebek calls after them, asking Malleus to please wait for him too! It’s Lilia who tells Sebek to stay behind and to give those two some space to settle their differences. “B-But Lilia-sama! What if that dastardly man attempts to take the young master’s life again?!” Sebek protests. (“I’m sure our Malleus can handle it!”)

Lilia whips out his cleaver (where was he hiding that on his body this entire time?!) and carves down blocks of ice into shaved ice for everyone! This, he claims, is his dessert redemption arc now that everyone is in good spirits once again.

Sebek helps with fetching bowls, spoons, and an array of flavored syrups for everyone to customize their shaved ice. Silver and his animal friends contribute toppings for them: fresh fruits and nuts!

… Rollo begrudgingly joins Malleus in the snow but males his own snowman instead of collaborating just to spite him. Malleus’s Olaf snowman comes out short and lumpy with a tall head and a carrot nose. Rollo’s is tall and thin, lying on the ground with Xs for eyes and two sticks shoved into its head. “It’s you,” he tells Malleus, pointing to the stick “horns”. (“Oh? I’m flattered.”) “You’ve perished,” Rollo clarifies. To his dismay, his rival barely bats an eye.

Malleus starts to blast alternating water and ice, creating dynamic sculptures—platforms to hop on, odd shapes to climb and to slide down. He easily navigates them (with an angry Rollo struggling to keep up, shouting at him about how he needs to keep “a leash” on his frivolous use of spells).

Malleus lands on the ground again, practically skating on just his feet alone. With a glance at the big moon above, he laughs. It reminds him of the night of the masquerade—and so he turns to Rollo, extending his hand a second time and asking to share a dance.

“Have you lost your MIND, Draconia?!” Rollo huffs. Malleus assures him that he hasn’t, then pulls him onto the ice anyway. They’re set effortlessly gliding, their robes swaying in the wintery wind. Rollo’s not even bothered by the cold now—he’s operating on the hot fury that’s burning within him.

“Are you happy with this evening of tormenting me and having me dance in the palm of your hand? Well? Are you?!” Rollo hisses. Malleus grins, and he looks particularly wicked under a veil of moonlight. “Very. It’s good to know that you are still as amusing as you ever were, Flamme. How goes your repentance, hmm?”

“I don’t have to answer to the likes of you. You and your minions have already out me through quite a bit of distress tonight.” (Malleus doesn’t seem to be bothered by the response. “Fufufu. Looking away so stubbornly has its own charm as well.”)

“I won’t press you further. There will be plenty of time in the future for us to catch up.” Rollo begins to object, but Malleus isn’t listening. He raises one hand to the sky, his volume booming. “Allow me to offer you a parting gift to end this evening… a token of our everlasting friendship between man and monster.”

Who is man and who was monster? a small, doubtful voice in the back of Rollo’s head wonders. He rushes to squash it before those embers turn into an all-consuming wildfire.

A brilliant aurora shoots out and overtakes the night. So many colors crackling and melding into one another, its ribbon-like motions seemingly never ending. From all around Diasomnia, mob students look out of their windows and stare at the sky in pure wonderment. It’s like a dream has come to life before their very eyes, and everyone is dancing under it. Even Rollo is stunned into silence by the beauty of the aurora.

No, he tells himself. This is wrong. It’s a product of magic. It’s not meant to be like this. Magic is ugly and harmful and selfish and…!!

A shooting star streaks the dark, diamond/studded sky. “Make a wish, Flamme,” Malleus encourages.

Rollo looks at him, then takes the deepest breath he possibly can. His shout resonates throughout Diasomnia, rattling antiques and rousing sleepy Silver awake.

“I SWEAR IF IT’S THE LAST THING I DO, I WILL BE THE ONE TO TEAR YOU DOWN ONCE AND FOR ALL, MALLEUS DRACONIAAAAAAAA!!”

#twst #Malleus Draconia #twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland headcanons #Rollo Flamme #Silver #Sebek Zigvolt #Lilia Vanrouge #Diasomnia #disney twisted wonderland #Rollo at the Writing Desk #spoilers

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ashprince-of-bel-air · 2 months ago

Text

The Hellrider's Redemption - Into The Gate

A/N: Zevlor arrived in Baldur's Gate, trying to seek refuge and seek Tav. There is a flash back segment that is shown by using italics.

Previous chapter

The temple stood bustling, full of refugees and those with nowhere else to go. Zevlor was not entirely sure how long he had rested here, the current timeline of his days had all merged into one, a blur of time traumatically smashed together. He sat in the food hall by himself, silent, looking down at the hot bowl of soup the priest had brought him. The priests here were gentle and kind, it was startling for Zevlor at first, to receive such kindness from a human, but he welcomed it with a polite bow nonetheless.

The temple was not the first place Zevlor had approached once he finally reached Baldur’s Gate, it was however the first place that had welcomed him and fed him. The city was not what it once was, before it had been a city where one could arrive with naught but the clothes on their back and still make name for themselves, now it was a cesspit, shunning all those who were different and in need. The tyrant Gortash had sought to that, blaming any issue on the refugees that were coming to it’s gates to safety, no longer were people willing to open their homes or their hearts to those suffering and in need.

The large bowl of soup that was nestled between Zevlor’s hands had remained untouched since he received it, Zevlor knew he would not be able to eat it cleanly, ever since his escape from moonrise and arriving in Baldur’s Gate his hands trembled. It took all his strength to keep them from trembling now, cursing himself knowing that these hands once protected the weak and innocent, bringing justice to those who could not reap it themselves, now they shook with shame and fear, a mighty fall from grace from once a great Paladin. His head slumped as he recalled his journey here to the temple in Baldur’s Gate, a waking dream he would often re-live.

Atop the tower of Moonrise, Zevlor could plot his course, he could see Baldur’s Gate in the distance and made a mental note of it. Descending the tower was a hellscape for him, bodies upon bodies littered the hallways, both Harpers and Cultists alike. The scenes of it all disturbed him, he was a man of battle, a Hellrider, this should not have bothered him. He was not sure if it was his age that changed him or if it was war that had changed, he had never seen such carelessness for the sanctity of life before. Zevlor finally made his way out of moonrise, trying to ignore the massacre along the way, ignore it he would however it would find it’s way into his dreams which would become nightmares.

One he reached the gates of the tower he hesitated, taking a deep breath to steel himself, awaiting the affects of the shadow curse he stepped forward, yet felt nothing. It was like a weight had lifted in the air somehow, giving the aura of hope. Zevlor had no proof but he was sure that this was your doing somehow, you were capable of anything and this had the feel of your saving hands all over it. The walk through the rest of the lands was simple now that it was not cursed, it was the walk into Baldur’s Gate that would prove difficult.

The outer villages of Baldur’s gate were packed with refugee’s seeking asylum from The Absolute, their homes and villages having been destroyed by the cultists. Amongst the refugees Zevlor spotted some of the Teiflings that would have been under his charge in The Grove, quickly he removed himself so they would not gaze upon him, he did not want to feel their scorn and he knew he did not deserve their forgiveness, no matter how much he wanted to be with his kin.

Instead Zevlor took the lower route into the city, making himself feel even lower acting as a criminal to smuggle himself into Baldur’s Gate, it was the criminals route, Zevlor judged himself for this but he promised he would meet you in Baldur’s Gate. That was the excuse he gave himself.

The ground shook violently, shaking Zevlor from his ruminations, it was another quake, these had become commonplace recently, but they didn’t stop people from feeling dread whenever they happened. The politicians could say what they wanted about them, but the local folk knew something was wrong, these were not normal tremors. Each one filed Zevlor with dread, they were a sign of something to come, he could feel it in his infernal bones. Once the tremors died he tried to compose himself, he needed to eat the food before him, a feat he had not managed since he arrived here, his hands too jittery to grasp cutlery or bowl enough to eat. The few days Zevlor had spent as a refugee in the temple were the nicest days he had had in a long while, on one day it felt as if it was all a dream, until the tadpole writhed painfully in his brain, bringing him harshly back to reality.

The Tadpole. His current issue, it was not the cerramorphisis that bothered him, he accepted that as punishment for his failings in the shadow lands and the grove, what he was scared of was time. With each wiggle of the tadpole he felt his days coming to an end, and each day he had not seen You. Time was running out in his mind he wanted to see you again before he changed, he wanted to see you whilst he was still Zevlor, Paladin and protector of the people, not some mind hungry Ilithid with his personality stripped. He looked down at his soup once again, wishing to see you so that he could at least tell you how he feels about you before he changes or relieves himself of the change.

“I see you kept your promise” A soft voice was heard behind Zevlor. He stood up and looked where the voice came from, his eyes wet with tears ready to spill from seeing you. “Tav?” His face was incredulous and his tears were ready to flow, he looked you up and down as if to not believe you were actually here, stood before him.

You rushed forward and hugged Zevlor, wrapping your arms around his body tightly, desperate to feel that he won't disappear. “I knew you would keep your promise” You whispered against his chest, smiling as you held him tightly..

“Of course Tav, Anything for you” Zevlor smiled and kissed the top of your head, gently stroking his fingers through the soft waves of your hair. Zevlor finally felt at peace with you in his arms, the tremors in his hands finally stopped once he held you, not wanting this moment to end.

#zevlor bg3 #bg3 zevlor #baldurs gate zevlor #baldurs gate 3 zevlor #zevlor

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morgana-ren · 11 months ago

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https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGeLsrgX9/

Vamp Lord's issues with consent are so obvious here. It's about being a spawn obviously but it would definitely apply to other things too. And the threat at the end. He's turning Tav regardless, the breakup means nothing. He may pretend he's letting them go, but he's absolutely not.

Denying ascended Astarion something is dangerous territory. He insists that he has everything he could ever want-- but he's lying. Poorly. He loved Tav. That love did not just disappear when they left him. It did not disappear when he turned.

He claims to have everything, except the one thing he truly wanted. And if for absolutely no other reason, he is obsessed with power and control. He will not be able to abide that for long. He won't. His new nature will not abide it.

Right now, he is angry. Just pure seething venom angry and lashing out. Things are just settling down. He is going to have free time soon-- an eternity of it. Soon, he will have time to think. And he will realize that Tav escaping is the largest insult to his power possible. It is an insult to who he is-- who he claims to be.

He cannot abide it.

He will say it is because it is an insult. Because he is teaching an object lesson. Because he must make a point to all who might dare to defy him. That is not why. It is because nothing in this cesspit of a world he plans to conquer will fill the hole that was left in their absence. The obsession will consume him. Thinking of what could have been. How life could have been had they stayed at his side. Wondering why the left, utterly flaying his brain to try and understand why, why why--

Tav walked away from him. Tav delivered the world in his palm, made him the most powerful creature to walk the realms, and then Tav walked away from him. Tav walked away when he was perfected. He doesn't understand. He can't. He was planning on eternity, and Tav violently ripped that dream from him. He will spend eternity alone, with no one by his side. No equal. No love.

The one thing he wants denied, and there isn't a damn thing he can do about it.

Right?

That's what he will have them believe. That he will respect that decision. But he won't. I can promise you that.

He plays it cool when you leave him. Huffs a haughty "fine" and drops it. Maintaining the balance was very important then. There were more pressing matters. No world to conquer if they didn't stick together to defeat that wretched little brain. Then he pretends to respect that decision, even telling you so. He is going through the stages of grief-- except acceptance is no longer a natural part of that cycle.

One day, he is going to decide that no, actually, you don't get to make that decision. He wants, and so he will take. No one can stop him. What use is power if he cannot even have the one thing he craves most? That would shatter his entire view.

So he will use that power, and with the same cruelty that ripped him from his life, he will wield swiftly against Tav. They do not get a choice. They get a master and a will to obey.

He says Tav will regret it, and he means it. But not in the way one might think. He will make them regret not choosing his side willingly. Not nurturing his love and trust. They will be at his side regardless. That is the only option. They will not even be able to die to escape him.

They should have stayed. They will regret not staying. Everything that happens from here on out is their fault.

#morgana and friends #ascended astarion

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elgaladwen · 1 month ago

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Fictober 2024 - Day 2

Prompt: "It's been a long time"

Fandom: The Lord of The Rings Online (OCs)

Warnings: Cursing

Feeling bone-tired, grimy, and altogether like one of the creatures she hunted, rather than her elven self, Nimardril stepped into the common room of the town's inn, making a beeline for the bar to inquire over a hot bath and some food. She had helped to decimate the local láthbear population after taking on a job to cull the matron, who'd been responsible for several grisly deaths, and though she'd been successful, utilizing traps and weapons both, she felt as if she had more of their insides upon her then she had buried in the ground.

The innkeep seemed to pay no mind, taking her coin, and asking her to wait a little until he could spare someone to haul water upstairs. She nearly offered to do it herself, but after cleaning her hands and face with a rag, she felt as if a drink might be just the thing, and tankard in hand, she wandered toward the darker end of the bar to wait.

Nimardril stopped short when she noted a figure already seated there, a pointed ear poking through long dark hair, as slender fingers lifted a glass to lips she could only see in profile, most of the face obscured where his hair fell to hide it.

Her traitorous heart began to beat faster as she immediately thought of Daerhovan, her friend she had fled from when her ill-advised feelings had been too much to bear. What would he be doing drinking in a place like this? He disliked crowded indoor spaces, and could not hold his alcohol.

As her brain caught up to her heart though, she finally took in the fact that what she could see of the face was not his, and the hair was cropped shorter than her friend kept it. But why was he so familiar?

She made to turn away and find elsewhere to sit, not really wishing to talk to what was probably one of the few other elves in town while she looked fit to fall in a cesspit, but just then he turned fully toward her, dark brows raised haughtily over a pale, handsome face, as he looked her over.

“You can sit with me girl, but goodness, did you just have a roll in the mud? I'd have given you a much better time…” He trailed off as recognition dawned in his gaze, shock slipping over his carefully practiced smirk as he set down his glass.

“Nim-ar-dri-el.” He unnecessarily enunciated her name as he drew it out, smug smile settling back into place as he did so, just as quickly as it had gone. “It has been a long time.”

Nimardril felt rooted to the spot, her eyes wide as she watched his judgemental gaze slowly sweep her body again. It was worse than she could have imagined. Of all the people she wished to see, Moradan was near to the bottom, and for him to see her like this?

She had imagined running into him again, perhaps as she saved his pathetic life, or at the very least while dressed in finery at a party, on the arm of someone more beautiful than he, and clearly having a better life without him in it.

She had not imagined meeting him again while filthy, tired, and hoping to find purpose in her life.

Sure, she was not the same broken girl he had left. The girl who had turned to alcohol and rage to forget his sweet promises of love and marriage. To forget the feeling of being wanted and important in someone's life again, a feeling which she had lost when her parents left Middle-earth. Moradan had given her hope again, and had cruelly yanked it away when he'd stopped writing and visiting her, leaving her to worry he'd died, until she found out for himself that he'd simply moved on to other, less damaged ladies.

No, this humiliation was only a ghost of that, and she had grown up enough to understand how naïve and vapid she'd been, and how poor a partner, even if he should have had the decency to say such to her face, but it was hard to escape that memory of loss, for still she yearned to be needed in someone else's life, rather than a fleeting memory.

When she didn't speak, her drink held forgotten in her hand, Moradan rolled his eyes and turned back toward the bar. “I should be the one rendered speechless, if anything. Look at you in this backwater, smelling like shit!”

Sighing, Nimardril attempted to regain her composure, wondering if her flushed face was apparent in the dark, now that she'd wiped the grime off.

“You're here too aren't you?” She snapped. “At least I'm making myself useful. The bears I hunted would have eaten you alive!”

She wished she had as clever of a tongue as Moradan, for she knew she sounded as childish as he likely still thought she was.

He turned partially toward her once more, brow arching again. “Probably. I never liked to sully myself as you do.”

She couldn't tell if it was honesty or a jab, and knowing Moradan it was likely both, but he motioned at the stool beside his, and she sank into it, finally sipping her stout.

“So why are you here anyway?” Nimardril finally asked, after they'd been drinking in silence for a time.

“Oh,” He waved a hand in some vague gesture of nonchalance. “I don't know. Still just roving about until I find a place I fit in, I suppose.” He lowered his voice. “Not here though, I was simply desperate for a drink.”

Nimardril snorted despite herself. “I know the feeling, though in my case it was the promise of a bath.” In an almost wistful tone, she added, “You know, that's why I started wandering too, but I enjoyed it so much that I never ceased.”

Moradan toyed with the rim of his glass, his usual smarminess absent as he uttered in an almost forlorn tone, “Then it seems you have found a place for yourself, hm? A place need not always be physical.”

She considered this, and they both nursed their drinks for a while, contented companionship threatening to creep over them, until the barkeep informed her that her room and bath were ready upstairs, and she jumped up, almost as if her seat had caught fire.

“That eager to be away from me?” Moradan teased.

Nimardril wrinkled her nose. “Even I smell myself now. I’d rather the bath’s company than yours, yes.”

He chuckled softly before lifting his hood and wrapping himself in his dark cloak, clinking some coins down upon the bar, and turning to leave, raising one gloved hand in farewell.

To her surprise, Nimardril found herself wishing she could have spoken to him more as she watched his inky form ebb into the night outside.

Note: I meant to make this longer, and have it go into Nim meeting her girlfriend, but it's barely still today in my time zone, so I decided to wrap it up, as I am sure the lovely Linthilstel will make an appearance in a later fic. ;)

Daerhovan obviously belongs to Loremastering here on Tumblr, and he can drink alone in a bar if he wants, no matter what Nim thinks, though he deserves better than to be confused with Moradan.

#fictober24 #my fics #lotro fic #fictober #lotro oc #fics #lotro #Nimardril #Moradan

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swampgallows · 4 months ago

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i hate covid i hate it so fucking much it keeps threatening my loved ones and nobody else gives a shit. my best friend was exposed AGAIN and im just petrified waiting to see if he managed to escape infection. also less immediate but my favorite VA whose name i will not type out because you all already know who i mean has been very cautious but was on panels at AX last week. i saw the aranet readings out of there it mustve been like the geiger counter crackling to all shit in fallout. even before covid AX has always been a disorganized cesspit from what ive heard about it since i was in like middle school. but AX is undoubtedly where the person who exposed my friend was infected and im just ssoooooo

being covid cautious in 2024 almost feels like atlas taking up the burden of everyone else's precautions they should be taking and don't. they go on their merry way and don't see the people whose lives they're affecting. "i know the risk" no, you really don't, because you're just passing it onto the people who are already at higher risk. every person who doesn't mask is another potential source of infection that renders one way masking less effective.

it's not a seatbelt. it's the headlights in your car. maybe you can see without them but you're endangering everyone around you. and when everyone else on the road has their lights off -- is mask off -- you're much more likely to have a dangerous collision with one of them.

i am so sick of this same shit rattling around in my brain for its 5th consecutive year. it's literally maddening. but what else can i do? am i supposed to just accept that i can be killed just from walking by someone? for entering a poorly ventilated room that someone two hours earlier was breathing covid into and is still hanging in the air? even if covid had a cure by tomorrow so much of my faith in humanity and sense of belonging in my community has been shattered. im supposed to go back to feeling warmth and connection to people who don't care if i die if it means they can go party? people who happily adopted eugenics because it was more comfortable and convenient for them?

i am so sick of thinking about this, having it occupy the bulk of my mind's RAM, taxing so much of my energy in being constantly hypervigilant in survival mode, having to gear up with ppe like im doing asbestos removal just to go outside.

i should be traveling. i should be doing dentistry. i should have a career and a place to live. five fucking years of my 30s spent in my childhood bedroom. but if i give way to nihilism it won't be going mask off, it'll be suicide

#blathering

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baka-bakeneko · 2 years ago

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Everlong - Takemura x Fem!V Reader [NSFW]

tags: quickie, forced orgasm, dominant Takemura, submissive V

word count: 2.8k

synopsis: V barely escaped with her life after Arasaka stormed in after Hanako. She'll get used to being on the run

a/n: literally, why is it so easy to just keep writing off of the story i've already started. what can i say? i love trilogies. maybe even sagas. (first, second)

You jolted awake in your chair, noticing Johnny walk from the corner of your eye to the dining table. Your eyes boggled softly, the notification that your relic was malfunctioning at the top of your sight.

"Think they make these motels especially for fuck-ups like us?" Johnny asked, leaning forward and pretending to peer out of the busted blinds of the room. "AC's busted, dirty needles under the mattress, shitter's clogged..."

You groaned, tilting your head back to look at the ceiling, splattered with water damage and the fan missing an entire wing. It squeaked lowly, going in displaced circles.

You adjusted your grip on your rifle, your hands sweaty from holding onto it for so long.

"No, seriously, who the fuck comes here to sleep? We're a couple miles outside Night City," Johnny sat down heavily on the table, leaning back to look at the window again. "Someone leavin' town just keeps driving. Somebody going there sleeps in the damn city!"

You blinked slowly, only half-listening to Johnny's rambling. "Johnny, please. Shut. Up."

Johnny crossed an arm over his thigh, sitting forward. "You think you just stepped in shit. Actually, you fell headfirst into a cesspit." He looked to the door, then back at you. "Anyone knocks, blast the fucking door. No warning."

You silently agreed, managing to nod at that. A noise rustled from outside your room, causing you to straighten up in your seat.

"Hear that?"

You shot a dead glare to Johnny then pointed your rifle at the door.

"Car," you said, lowering your voice as you stood up from the chair.

"At this hour? In this place? Finger on the trig, V." Johnny ordered from the table.

You carefully took a soft step towards the door, then another until you were a foot behind it. You stared at the approaching shadow that grew under the door, holding the rifle butt to your shoulder.

You glanced at Johnny when he told you not to touch the door, waiting with bated breath until a soft knock rapped at the door.

You furrowed your brows, turning the safety off of the rifle. A second knock.

You loaded the rifle and released a low, shaky breath at the third knock before you stopped. You looked to Johnny slowly, wondering why this person hadn't just burst in until they knocked a fourth time.

With it clicking, you undid everything on your rifle; uncocking the ammo, replacing the safety and slowly dropping its sight to the floor before allowing the door to pneumatically slide open.

"Goro," you gasped, not helping yourself and almost tackling the man to the floor. You felt yourself turn into the sudden bullet vest, strapping your arms around the man's neck and pulling yourself tight to his chest.

The door shut back just as quickly with Goro stepping inside and crossing an arm around your waist. You wanted to batter the man over again, wanting him to know how incredibly stupid it was for him to show up.

"Oh great, now we're really dead." Johnny griped, pulling both feet onto the table and crossing his arms.

You pulled away slightly, running your hand down Goro's chest as if to assess whatever damages he had. Then you started punching at his chest, only hurting your organic knuckles by the sturdiness of him.

"Why would you come here?" You grimaced, punching at him again. "You're putting us both in danger. You're so stupid, so reckless."

Takemura only withstood it, sparing a soft smirk at the corner of his lips. His arm around you tightened comfortingly, turning his face into your neck.

"I could not stay away, not after how I left you," he muttered against your skin, his lips cold and his beard prickling at your collarbone.

You shied away from him, gearing all your strength to punch him again. "Goro, damn you. You're the one that told me we couldn't risk it."

Goro winced lightly at that punch, sparing an amused huff of breath against your skin. "I know what I said, but I also know that I could not stand by after I put you in danger."

You squeezed your eyes shut, fighting the inkling of you that wanted to give in. Goro's body was warm against you, you could smell a bitter sake on his breath wafting over your shoulder.

"You're painting the target bigger, V," Johnny interrupted your thoughts, appearing over Goro's shoulder to sit on the kitchen nook.

This was not an ideal place to meet again. And if Goro could find you, then it was only a matter of time before Arasaka did. Then it'd be the two of you on the silver platter.

"Goro," you tried, your fist softening to wiggle him away.

"I love you, V. Valerie," Goro corrected himself, straightening up to rest his forehead to yours. "I don't want to cause you pain. I'll truly leave if you'd feel safer."

Your breath hitched before him, parting your lips to tell him to go before you lurched and kissed him. You crashed your lips to his top, hungrily taking him in.

"I don't want you to leave, Goro," you whispered, sharing a breath with him as his hold tightened.

Your legs curled around his waist, holding yourself onto him further while fighting to engorge him whole.

Johnny exhaled deeply to the ceiling, rolling his finger in a circle as if to get the ball rolling. "Cue the fucktage. Wake me when your legs stop shaking."

You ignored him as he blipped out of existence, only grabbing at Goro's button-up to tear it from his body.

Goro crossed his other arm under your thighs, adjusting slightly to palm both of them. He squeezed teasingly up your legs, resting his hands on the apple of your ass and groping softly.

You offered a moan into his mouth, nodding your head to the table that Johnny once occupied. Takemura leaned up against it, pulling away from you as you tore his shirt from his chest.

"We should make this quick," Goro whispered against your lips, hoping to catch them in his orbit again. "We can't stay to morning."

You nodded hastily, stopping to savour his physique as if you hadn't in years. Your fingers traced down his metallic neck, eyes entranced on the passionate red that was embedded in him. Your eyes flicked to meet his, noting the silveresque rings in his eyes brighten.

You nudged closer to his waist, parting your thighs further to rest your knees on the table. "Then we'll make it quick," you said, though you both knew the lie.

Goro nodded back, taking your mouth again as his hands clawed at the back of your pants. You smiled against him, reaching back to stop his strong hands from ruining your limited wardrobe.

He growled into you, his hands sliding away from your waist and up under your shirt. His fingers were cold against your stomach, shrugging your shirt further up before he teased at your nipples.

You jerked softly, taking your hands away from Goro's chest to fold them over his hands under your shirt. "Cold," you muttered into his mouth.

Goro smiled in return, pulling away to tug your shirt and jacket from your body in a folded lump. He dropped it behind you, his hands slowly tracing down your shoulders and around your back before pressing you back to him.

He exhaled softly, staring into your eyes before hastily shrugging off his shirt. You climbed off of him and went for your pants, tugging them off before returning on Goro's lap.

"I would've bought you new pants," he said, groping your thighs with a few affectionate squeezed.

You shook your head, going for his belt. "You still haven't made up for the last pair."

Goro hummed, stretching to kiss at your neck then down your shoulder, leaving a sharp and chilling trail of his facial hair and wet lips.

You giggled at the feeling, biting your lip as his hands roamed in circles along your legs and hips. Your hands drifted under his belt, mapping his thick waist with your fingertips before shifting his pants down enough.

His cock bounded from its confines, sliding against your inside thigh almost begging to be let in. You groaned at its warmth, reminding you of the heat between your hips.

Your pussy clenched at the thought, earning attention from Goro's curious hands. His fingers slipped down the inside of your thigh, earning a heightened exhale from you.

You stared down at Goro with an intensity that was mirrored in his dark eyes. You collapsed against him, jerking your hips to tempt his cock to your entrance.

"Please fuck me," you whispered, meeting his lips in a peck.

Goro scoffed, pulling himself to sit upright. "Don't be so crass."

He crossed an arm over your waist, standing up and flipping you to the table. Your hands braced the dirty table, ignoring the sudden flash of headlights in the window.

Your mind short-circuited when Goro sank his cock into you. You reared up on your tiptoes, wanting to take more of him in as his hips came flush to your ass.

You turned your nails into the vinyl of the table, reaching a hand back to touch Goro's hip. He folded over you, his hands taking hold of your hips before pulling his full length out then sinking back in.

Your eyes crossed, releasing a high moan to the window glass. At that, Goro took a hand to cover your mouth, holding his index finger up to one of your nostrils as his thumb roughly caressed your cheek.

Your ankle lashed out, wanting to express how good he was making you feel, but he shifted his hand to press his middle finger between your lips.

"Bite," he ordered, pulling out again slowly before snapping in again.

Your toes curled, trying to hold yourself upright though you were already crumbling in his grasp. You did as you were told, clenching your teeth on his skin and minding your pressure.

Goro started at a fluid stride, pulling your hip further up and angling his cock to hit you deep. You curled up on the table, huffing against his index finger while you began to drool on his middle.

He lifted your knee to brace the table, allowing him to go further. You flattened to the table, turning selfish in the pleasure he was giving.

You tried to meet his thrusts, rolling your hips to collide with him but was forced to stop at his sturdy hold.

You cried out against his finger, your teeth gritting a bit tighter into his skin. Goro grunted softly behind you, hissing against the back of your ear.

Goro's hips stuttered, slowly losing his grip on restraint. His hand circled around your waist, finding your clit and folding two fingers against it.

Your body reacted with another coiling, clenching around Goro's length and causing you to unravel. His fingers flicked softly in a circle, the pressure steady yet tepid.

"Urck," you moaned against Goro's digit, trying to hold your breath even though you were near collapse.

Goro's lips peppered your shoulder, behind your neck and to the opposite side before lapping at your throat. His mouth latched to your skin, suckling tenderly until the combined actions caused you to break down..

"Oro," you groaned out, your body heating up under him while your nipples hardened against the cool vinyl.

You came in an instant, the remaining strength in your standing leg shaking. Goro moaned into your neck, finishing off the love bite with a soft smack.

He pulled his gnawed finger from your lips, turning you to his face. Goro's hand gripped at your chin, taking in your fluster before petting your lips with his thumb.

His hand on your clit started scrubbing, earning an involuntary convulse from your body. Your other hand reached to pull him away, but he chuckled darkly at your effort.

"Come again, V," he instructed with a lustful growl. "You feel so good. Come again."

You whined then, your body only gaining strength back and losing it again. "Goro, please."

Goro ignored your plea, taking your earlobe between his teeth and stuttering with his pace. "Please, come again."

You rested your cheek to the table, let Goro ravish your ear until your eyes rolled back. Suddenly, your body was once again on the precipice before you were suddenly over. Your leveraged foot ached and twitched against the dirty floor, your muscles seizing as your mouth fell open with a loud moan of Goro's name.

He smiled against your skin, slowing his pace and allowing your throbbing pussy to send him over. Goro buried his face in your shoulder, growling and groaning against your skin as he leisurely pumped his seed into you.

Goro slowly slid out of you, allowing your knee to drop from the table. The two of you held onto the table carefully, catching your breath before Takemura raised his head to look out of the window.

His eyes scanned the dark scene of the motel, the sliver of light from the streetlamp streaking over his face. You stared up at him, breathing deeply as his eyes dulled back from the lustful glow to hyperawareness.

Goro lowered himself back down to you, pecking at your prickling skin. "We can't stay like this."

You couldn't come up with any words, so you nodded.

Goro eased off of you, leaving you raw and exposed in his wake. He folded his cock to his thigh and waited for you to gain the strength to stand.

You slowly pulled yourself up, using your arms as leverage. You turned to look at Goro, who was now picking up your pants and folding them over his arm.

You wanted to pause the moment here, savor the intimacy that lingered between you two. It felt almost domestic, how he was picking up your clothes and resting them carefully away from the grimy mattress.

You wanted to suddenly disagree with him, tell him you could stay like you had for a few moments longer. You'd be running away from each other for a short time after this, until he deemed it as safe.

But him being here wasn't safe and he knew it. Yet he still did it.

"Let's go to the Aldecaldos," you suggested, turning against the table and leaning against it, feeling the logy trail of his cum down your inside thigh.

Goro stopped in pulling his pants on to narrow his eyes at you. "Val," he began and that alone shot through you hard enough to rid the thought from your head. "We'd be risking their safety."

You knew that, they were already on Arasaka's radar alone. The thought of Takemura leaving made your throat go dry. Where would he go but the direct opposite from you from now until who knows when?

He noted your worried brow and walked over to caress your cheek, his fingers curling down to your jaw before his thumb flushed to your earlobe.

"I have been selfish with you," Goro said, clearing his throat with a gulp. "I put you through this."

"Aww, the corpo-bot learned regret," Johnny glitched into existence on the edge of the dirty mattress. "Your dynamite pussy has warmed his heart."

Your undereye twitched at Johnny's words, tempting a tear. Goro shifted his thumb to ease the water away from your lashes. "It pains me to part from you, to suddenly be without you."

He leaned in and you shared a soft breath with him. "But I've risked you enough tonight. And we must truly part until further notice."

"This reminds me of a movie," Johnny lounged back on the mattress. "The samurai must part from his normie girl to return to war. Makes my balls ache."

You hid a roll of your eyes at Johnny, wishing he was as easy to disperse with the flick of a switch. Goro's lips ghosted before yours but pulled away at the last second.

His hand roamed up to your temple, then his eyes examined your face closely. "I need you to stay safe...I need you to come back to me, Valerie."

You gulped at the sound of your name on his lips. "Same for you."

Goro smiled dryly, affectionately pinching at your lips with his thumb and index knuckle before letting his hand fall. He pecked your cheek and you shut your eyes, holding back the mangling feeling inside you.

"Don't cry, V." Johnny interjected, shifting on the mattress. "We've got more shit on our plate than your little boyfriend's long goodbye."

You opened your eyes to see that Goro was gone, a wrenching action in itself. Your body lurched at the vacuum of the room, feeling your stomach twist up into your throat while you choked back hot tears.

"I'm not gonna cry," you tried to convince yourself, steeling your resolve with holding your breath. Your chest heaved indirectly, ready to let go the muddied feeling within you.

You pressed your hand to your mouth and folded over yourself, hiding a gagged cry in your palm.

#goro takemura #takemura x reader #v x takemura #cyberpunk takemura #takemura romance #cyberpunk2077 #v cyberpunk #cyberpunk #fanfic #bakeneko

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stitchlingbelle · 2 years ago

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Ok so I’m not done talking about Moira’s Pen and Gen and Irene’s kids.

Because I really don’t think it’s a tragedy that they didn’t end up “A King and his Thief”.

First off, I do not think “Immakuk and Ennikar and the Gates of Heaven” would have been a “story of an old king that ends well” to Gen if he truly had lost both his children and regretted his life and choices regarding them.

Secondly, Gen tried to convince Irene to leave with him, multiple times.

“Relius, he hates being king.”

Do you think Gen and Irene would force their children into lives they would hate?

“You have offered me escape from the cesspit of my family and this court.”

I think Gen especially has always excelled at thinking outside of the available options, and when cornered, has elected to cut the knot rather than give in. He gave Sophos the gun.

He gave Dite his freedom. Why wouldn’t he do the same for his own son?

#eugenides #mwt #queen's thief #Accidental Pirate King Sophos #Accidental Pirate King Hector #bet that kid got into all kinds of trouble #moira's pen

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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 2 years ago

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Doctor Who, but Chronologically: 39

We have finally escaped the time-loop of 1941! Only to land hard in 1947, a year that is notable for two things:

My dad was born

The Partition of India

Only one of those things is relevant to this episode, which is also a banger, because we have reached Demons of the Punjab

We are back with Jodie Whittaker, Yaz, Ryan and Graham, and this is a Yaz Episode! Which is nice because so far she has been very blank. Unfortunately she remains fairly blank because the episode is actually about her Nan, Umbreen - they go back in time to see Umbreen getting married in Lahore in the 50s. Except they miss and land in 1947 on a tiny farm. But that's okay, Nani is getting married! Except it's to the wrong man - rather than the Muslim grandfather Yaz is expecting, she's about to marry Prem, a dashing Hindu stranger.

And Partition happens. Also there are alien demons about.

It's slightly a shame this is not more of a banger, actually, and it would be if the actors were better and the writing was just a bit more thought out. The problem is that they shied away from being too explicit about the issues involved. Which, you know, I get - this is a British show and Britain is a racist cesspit and wouldn't put up with it, ON TOP OF WHICH they were blatantly aiming for allegory about how fascism is universally bad, like. I do get it.

But it does mean that the central tension - two brothers torn apart by Partition and its subsequent creed-based radicalisation - has nowhere near as much weight as it really should have had, because the Nasty Brother just says very vague strawman things to indicate that Hate Is Universal And Always Bad, rather than making meaningful and incisive points about this particular historical atrocity caused by the British Empire. And that means it ends up being a bit too unclear what his fucking problem is, and why he's ready to commit fratricide.

But it's otherwise a GREAT episode, my god. Beautifully shot, the plot is super simple to let the character work take the lead, and Bradley Walsh emerges as the unlikely Best Actor of All to smash it out of the park with sheer poignancy.

(Also like, I cannot stress enough that the vast majority of British people don't know what Partition is. They do not know. This episode introduced a swathe of British society to a vitally important historic event that this country caused and then deliberately forgot about. This means, oddly, that this stupid watch order triumphs again, because two episodes ago we watched Matt Smith attempt to suck off Churchill down to the balls - now, we get a straight up reference to the mass famine Churchill deliberately inflicted on India, plus the twice-stated statistic that a million people died in Partition. This is one of the most socially important episodes of Doctor Who ever made, I think, which I say non-hyperbolically.)

Anyway the alien demons turn out to be a race who used to be assassins, but their planet was destroyed while they were out doing killings and that, so now they go from place to place and mourn people who die alone and unmourned. They "witness". I like this as an idea. They look pretty cool, too. Except this means people keep seeing them standing over recently-deceased corpses looking like they belong to a Finnish heavy metal band before "vanishing" (trans-matting), and so assume they've murdered said recently-deceased corpse, and so they are now experiencing what I shall call the Absol Effect.

Two thirds into the episode, the Doctor discovers this. I will admit, she could have discovered this much sooner if they'd actually said in the first meeting. In that sense this is like the Testimony mirror people again, who could have prevented most of the episode by actually explaining straight away; but eh. Whatevs. It turns out, though, they're here to witness Prem's death; so the main cast now have to go the rest of the episode knowing this man is going to die tomorrow. As I say: Bradley Walsh's acting. That man can do an amazing wibbly lip, turns out. Fair play Brads.

Umbreen and Prem get married in the morning, but the Nasty Brother has called on a mob to come and kill them. Umbreen and her mam escape, but Prem is murdered in cold blood. It's very moving. My husband cried.

After all of that, though, I don't think we have a single new plot thread? NO WAIT - we do! Ish. The Thijarian ex-assassin professional mourners lost their planet. We've seen that before! Maybe it's connected.

“She” (an unknown person) is returning (perhaps River returned as Missy. Maybe Me? Maybe Clara???!)

There is something on Donna’s back

An entire planet, Pyrovilia, just… disappeared, somehow. (Maybe because the TARDIS is exploding??? Saturnine was also lost, and that WAS because of the TARDIS exploding. The lion man’s planet was also lost but he was a bit of a knob about it if I’m honest. NEW INFO: the Thijarian planet was destroyed by some sort of impact)

Amy is maybe dead (she’s not)

The Doctor has been cubed (he’s out, but how?)

River is possibly blown up (unless she’s Missy. Nope: she is definitely not blown up)

The TARDIS has blown up (It’s fine now. Except it’s sort of melting now because it’s corrupted, but it’s fine again)

The universe appears to have ended (the universe is back again)

The Doctor has employed(?) Nardole

(And Nardole was “reassembled???” Nardole had glass nipples and invisible hair?? WHAT THE FUCK IS HE)

There’s a vault in the TARDIS and it contains Missy but we don’t know why (sometimes she knocks for the bants)

There’s an immortal Viking girl now. Her name is Me and she’s now looking after the people the Doctor abandons

Why was Rory entirely unconcerned by the entire world suddenly going silent when that is Not Normal and should have been, at the very least, extremely disconcerting?

What did the Doctor do to Queen Lizzie One?

Why is Amy seeing a one-eyed woman in a vanishing window? (She’s with the Silents, but we don’t know why Amy saw her)

Why is Amy’s pregnancy inconclusive? (Maybe because the baby had Time Lord DNA?)

Who is Sarah-Jane Smith?

How is the Doctor Bill’s teacher and why/where does he have an office?

What is going on with the Cyber War and the Cyberium???

What happened with the Other Cyber War?

What happened with the Third War that deleted the void?

Why does Rose seem particularly important?

What order do these Doctors go in? (Eccleston, Tennant, uncertain, Smith, Capaldi, Whittaker)

Which companion just… forgot the Doctor, and how?

Yaz and Vinder are about to die as Mori/Mwri/Muuri

There is a Lupari shield around Earth.

What’s a Time War?

What’s the Rift?

What’s Bad Wolf?

In which war did the Doctor become a war criminal, and how?

Who is the Master?

Why has Amy forgotten Rory? How did she forget a Dalek invasion?

Is Rory plastic or not?

Why is the Doctor sulking on a cloud?

How exactly does the Doctor have a cloud?

What exactly happened with Strax to, uh, tame him?

Which friend killed Strax?

Which friend brought Strax back?

Where did this lesbian lizard and human couple come from?

What happened with Clara as Souffle Girl and the Daleks?

How does Clara actually join?

Why so many Claras?

Why is Missy apparently in robo-heaven?

Why is probably!Missy pushing Clara and the Doctor together?

What is Trensilor and what happened there?

Who is Handles?

The Doctor is about to be dissolved by a beautiful geode man

The universe is being crushed by the Flux

Will the Doctor open the fobwatch?

Sontarans are invading Earth again

Who is Kate?

Who is Osgood? Another name of Clara’s again?

The fuck is the deal with the Grand Serpent

Does Martha get to go to an ice cream planet with 12-fingered massage aliens?

How did the Doctor forget Clara?

Who is Bill’s puddle girlfriend Heather?

How did Nardole die?

When does Bill get Cyberman-ed and die?

When does the Doctor shrink and enter a Dalek called Rusty?

Whittaker is falling to her death rn

Was that ring relevant?

Does anyone know the Doctor’s name?

When did Yaz talk to Dan about fancying the Doctor?

When did Dan talk to the Doctor about fancying Yaz?

What’s happening with the bees?

What happened with Donna’s ex and a giant spider?

What war wiped out the Daleks, and is it one of the ones already mentioned?

What did the Doctor mean when he said “The (Daleks) always live, while I lose everything?”

If Dalek Caan is the last Dalek left why are there more now?

How did the rest of the Time Lords die?

How and why did Amy melt?

What’s the question that will make silence fall?

Why do the Silents… want silence to fall?

How and why are Silents at war with the Doctor when he… hasn’t even heard of them?

How does Hitler get out of the cupboard?

What’s the significance of fish fingers and custard?

Why does the Doctor feel guilt about Rose, Martha and Donna?

What happened with the space whale?

When does Rory defend Amy for 2000 years?

How does the Doctor survive River

How does he erase himself from history

Did Captain Jack lose his memories to the same people as the Doctor? What did he lose?

When did the Doctor send the Daleks into a void to save the universe?

What’s with the weird crack in the wall and is it affecting memories?

Why do Amy and Rory think the Doctor is dead?

Is Matt Smith’s Doctor a tree racist?

#doctor whom #and yet we are continuing

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apoptoses · 1 year ago

Note

Trying to escape all the Devil’s Minion hate I’ve seen around here and Twitter (apparently Armand never really loved Daniel, he’s only a footnote in his life, didn’t really have an impact on him or his character development, etc.) by coming to your blog and reading your asks. I truly have no idea how/when/how this influx of hate started (was it the sh*w? It was probably the sh*w) but I just want to tell you I’m so glad you’re around posting fantastic Devil’s Minion content constantly, keeping us fed. Dark times lie ahead and we need to remain strong 🤧

So there's a couple things at play, but first off-

We have like 50 pages of them together in total through all the books. Everyone has different reads on characters/events, people are free to interpret stuff how they want.

However there is a strange and very vocal handful of people who seem to have an agenda to push about Armand and Daniel in specific. I don't know why, I don't know what kind of projection is going on, but they like to insist that Daniel secretly hates Armand and Armand was actually an abusive demon 24/7 and there was never any love between them.

Which if that was just their personal read, whatever. But they run around insisting that this is canon, this is fact, this is what Anne intended and anyone who thinks to the contrary is wrong and needs their ass jumped.

But that's just like, their opinion, man. Nobody has to listen to these people. They are not experts on the secret intentions of Anne Rice. They do not have any info which you, anon, would not also have access to.

The facts are that Armand said he loved Daniel, Daniel said he loved Armand, Daniel begged for eternity with Armand. In the end of the series he went hunting with Armand and moved back in at Trinity Gate. They had fights over the blood when Daniel was mortal and Daniel resented Armand at times for not making him a vampire (but wanted to become a vampire in the end to be with him). Daniel was highly concerned as to whether Armand liked him as a vampire, and Armand said he loved the way he turned out and looked upon him with lust. Anne herself said that Armand was a good person with Daniel, and that she loved his affair with Daniel and it was all about exploration. Everything else is just someone's personal read.

Also, twitter is a cesspit and brings out the worst people lol Don't go there for good takes, you will find nothing but anger and brain rot.

Could it possibly be the show? I don't watch it so I don't really know. I know that the producer seems to be setting up an old school love triangle which is probably going to pit Armand against Lestat, and Daniel against Louis. But idk I have no further relevant knowledge there.

But again, the show is so different from the books. If you don't like the show you're not obligated to listen to or interact with its fans, and if you like the show but don't like the books, vice versa. Nobody needs to be sending hate and insisting that people agree with their personal meta or else they're a bad person. These are fictional characters lmao

But thanks, anon. I am always here to bang the gong of "these two love each other" and create romantic content for them. You're safe here ♥

#apoptoses answers #armand/daniel #devil's minion

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pacifymebby · 1 year ago

Text

t r o u b l e / chapter twenty eight

Sylvie

We stood outside Alfie's office in a cold silence. Isaiah refusing to look at me, his eyes burning holes in the wall opposite him. Stubborn, livid but more than anything else disappointed. He was trying to hide it but I could see the hurt he was feeling plain as day on his wounded face. His lips were sullen, his eyes were shadowed. They weren't teary but they were thinking about it.

I wondered what it was that had hurt the most. The way I'd commanded him not to defend me or the way I'd let him stand on the recieving end of Alfie's wrath, not batting an eye when his life was threatened. The way I'd stood calm and still and smirking in the face of my friends imminent death.

I considered reaching for his hand, whispering to him that it was all an act. That I'd been scared too. But I didn't because I didn't want to lie to him.

Ollie stood quietly next to us, his hands resting over one another in front of him. I considered the weapons which would be hidden away under his clothes. I wondered why they hadn't stripped us of ours. Why they'd let us walk into Alfie's office without an amnesty. I could only presume it was because they didn't perceive us as a threat or, that Alfie didn't intend to give us reason to use them.

"You gonna tell me what kind of game you're playing now Sylvie or..." started Isaiah, speaking to me quietly, his voice tight and controlled in such a way that I could tell he was holding on for life.

"Not here Sai..." I sighed looking down at my nails, ears pricked trying to listen through the door to the conversation we'd been shut out of. The one which would decide my sister's fate and mine too.

If Alfie handed us back over to my brother a second chance at escape would be impossible for both me and Sunny.

But when the door finally opened Alfie Solomons was all but doing his best to conceal a smile, a warmer smile than perhaps he should have been letting me see.

"Oh dear little Shelby," he said shaking his head, his eyes dark, a patronising tsk tsk reserved only for me as he passed Isaiah and stood looking down at only me, "he's not happy with you poppet, no he ain't..."

"You needed to call him to reach that conclusion?" I asked plainly, leaning back against the wall like the insolent teenager my brother would expect me to be. An act which didn't seem to wash with Alfie.

His brows tugged together, his eyes flickering over me.

"Come on little dancer stand up straight..." He chided me, taking my chin between his thumb and forefinger adjusting my gaze so that I was stood a little straighter, looking up at him with that stubborn glaze he almost seemed to admire. "No," he said a little softer then, "no I did not need to phone him to know that little gypsy girl..." he mused, a small smirk tugging at him lips momentarily, "what I needed to phone him for yeah... What I needed to phone him for was to let him know that his darlin little sister yeah, that's you by the way poppet, is safe and sound... Safe an sound here in my bakery in good old Camden Town, only place left in this god forsaken, cesspit of a city where there's any good men left yeah?"

"Thats you yeah?" I asked drly, dragging my voice though it was quieter now. It was harder to be fearless now.

He stroked his thumb over my cheek and held my gaze, his fingertips a little rough against my skin as he held my chin in place. I did my best to focus on my teeth in my mouth, ran my tongue along the backs of them and counted so that my mind didn't quiver, so that I could hold the tremble back.

Alfie shook his head.

"Yeah poppet," he said, his words surprising me, "when it comes to you it does mean me right... You should remember that too right, very important... You wanna write it down or somet yeah so you don't go forgettin it..."

He let his hand fall away from my cheek then but I remained looking up at him, remained watching him as he stepped away, walked a small contemplative circle as he dictated to me. Not a thought for Isaiah, all his attention focussed solely on me.

"An I'll say it again for you yeah, make sure it sinks in properly alright.." he said tapping his temple with his finger, turning to me to hold my gaze again. "When it comes to you little Shelby, I am a good man."

I didn't know what to say to him then, bottom lip stuck out as it was in a simmering pout, my eyes sullen and ungrateful for the mercy he was showing me. I should have been on my knees thanking him for having spared Isaiah's life, for having shown me forgiveness, but I wasn't stupid.

I wasn't going to crumble at the first display of kindness, wasn't going to show weakness in the face of a man I knew was still trying to get my measure.

"Now your big brother, belligerent old miser that he is, reckons he's gonna drive all the way down to London tonight to come collect his lost and found - that's you poppet..."

"For fuck sake..." I heard Isaiah breath next to me, the words quiet enough that I hoped he'd get away with them but of course he didn't.

"Oi you uncooth little prick, ain't you supposed be the son of preacher, swearing like that in front of a girl... Fuckin disgusting that is..."

When he caught me smirking I thought there'd be another scathing line saved up for me but instead Alfie let a little wink slip my way and it took everything in me to make sure my smirk didn't grow to a smile.

"I won't go home Mr Solomons," I said finally, so certain in my heart of that fact that I could say it calm enough to leave them both captured quiet. Though Alfie's silence didn't last very long.

"Well yes little Shelby it would appear that you and I already know that wouldn't it..." he said pacing ahead of us, his hands held behind his back, head bowed thoughtfully as he appeared to ruminate on a decision I knew he'd already made, "but I ain't goin to war with your brother just because you'd make a very lovely Odette..."

"That's..." I started stunned when he silenced me, one finger raised, his eyes locked on mine with his wordless command.

"Alright poppet I'm talkin now ain't I.." he said, his voice low, a resonant warning tone which left a shiver run down my spine. I felt Isaiah bristle beside me, saw him suck in on his cheek and bite down anxiously. When his eyes flickered to meet mine I met him with a steely glare wanting to remind him that we weren't supposed to look nervous.

"Now, I ain't an expert on teenage girls alright, in fact I have very little to do with them Sylvia but it seems to me yeah, I reckon I've got your measure... Reckon I actually know you quite well little gypsy... Cause right, I reckon you think you're very clever yeah? Got this shvantz wrapped round your finger haven't you but I'll tell you this for nowt as your big brother Tommy would say right, manipulating a lout like that ain't hard sweetheart, and that don't mean to say you ain't very clever yeah, cause see I think perhaps the apple don't fall far from the tree with you yeah Sylvia, but brains yeah, brains ain't enough to manoeuvre successfully through the society you seem so determined to acquaint yourself with... All that been said however it occurs to me right, and this may be of some interest to you too yeah because it seems to me that for all those wits you've got about you, you ain't deduced this interesting little detail just yet alright... You've come down here right, to ask me to help your sister, but the starlet Sonya Gray is nowhere to be seen... You're the one who came to dance the Dying Swan on my antique rug yeah... You."

"Odette is Sonya's part Alfie I didn't come here for..."

"Now what did I just say?" He snapped suddenly, his eyes burning, teeth gritted as he slammed his fist against the wall to shut me up. I managed to hold back my flinch, managed to remain muted as if I were merely observing the scene and not a part of it. When he simmered I could see the anger behind his irises. "I'm talkin now... You, little gypsy, are listening."

So I swallowed down and kept my mouth shut watching him steadily as he started up again.

"You are very clever yeah Sylvia, but you are very naive, and that's alright yeah? You are very young so that my dear is al-right, it's forgivable, yeah, completely understandable, truly it is forgivable that you ain't realise this already... But you need to realise it now yeah, you are the Gray who stole and deceived her way into my Bakery, to dance the Dying Swan and ask for my protection, so you are the Gray I'm going to offer my protection to... So long as she promises to dance the Dying Swan on that Opera House stage for as long as I'm protecting her..."

I looked back at him blankly, confusion swirling inside me, a sharp kind of sting in my throat as I fought the urge to cry or lash out at him because that wasn't the deal. That wasn't what I'd wanted at all. Hadn't been my intention to betray my sister and yet here he was dangling the only thread of hope in front of me, arrogant enough to know I would take it.

"It's not my part..."

"Ain't hers either whilst she's locked away up north is it Sylvia..." he said stepping closer to me, close enough that he came between Isaiah and myself. Close enough that he cut me off from the rest of the room so that I was forced to look up and see only him.

"With that little display Sylvia my poppet, you really got my hopes up... Now I sincerely hope you ain't about to let me down..."

I tried my best to remain still, trapped between him and the wall, the little space between us knife edge prickling as I held my breath and tried to hide the anger from my eyes.

I opened my mouth to deny him a third time but as though he read my mind, as though he was moving to stop me from doing as he suspected - letting him down - he turned away from me briskly, dropping the expectancy and the subtle threat from his demeanour. Turning the conversation towards killing time instead.

"Now where are my manners eh? You two'll be all but knackered I should imagine... Dead on your feet some might say," he cracked a laugh as he clipped Isaiah round the head lightly. It wasn't hard enough to hurt him but that didn't stop it adding to the emotional wound which had been festering since the day before when I'd first forced the older lads hand.

"Gonna set you up nice and cosy yeah, very generous me yeah, if there's one thing people always say about the terrible Alfie Solomons yeah, it's that he's nothing but generous and hospitable, a real gentleman me right? Now I assume Khamer here ain't gonna let you out of his sight yeah, not even to get your beauty sleep yeah?" He said vaguely gesturing to Isaiah as he clicked his fingers for us to follow him down the hallway towards the back doors and into a garage.

"Yeah reckon we'll keep you safe an snug in the East Wing," he said chuckling to himself as he opened the passenger side of a blacked out four wheel drive. When he gestured for me to step up inside I resisted the urge to look back at Isaiah over my shoulder.

I sat down, leaning back into the plush chair, flickering my gaze over the dashboard as Alfie tried to rile Isaiah even more. I heard him bark something about how the children sit in the back before he came round to the drivers side and shut the door behind him.

"Now then poppet," he said as he started the engine, "time for you to see how real royalty lives..."

And when we pulled up outside his "house" I understood what he meant because although his house might not have been as big as Arrow House, it was certainly worth ten times as much. One of those grand old townhouses on a private road, a mini mansion really.

Behind me Isaiah opened the car door, got out and let it slam. To my right Alfie remained still, drummed his fingers slow and rhythmically on the wheel.

Suddenly I wasn't sure how much of his "east wing" comment had been a joke.

We'd spent the whole drive in silence, the heavy kind but now it seemed Alfie had grown tired of listening to everyone else think. I'd say solemnly, trying not to show my apprehension, trying not to show my distress. The deep cut inside which ached like still open wound, the blade the betrayal Alfie expected of me. I'd thought in ever small circles about Sonya, about her hopeless forlorn features the last time I'd seen her. When she'd fled our brothers study in a heartbroken flurry of tears. I'd been determined to save her, I'd come all this way, looked a deadly man in the eyes and danced for him, with the intention of saving her. Now as Alfie cut the engine I was realising all too late that perhaps all I'd really served to do to poor Sunny was dig the knife in deeper.

"Well," he said turning to look at me, "ain't you going to get out little Shelby? Or have you even trained him to unclip your seatbelt?" He asked letting out a low self amused chuckle as he reached for the door on his own side. "Really though poppet, now that it's just me an you yeah... You're gonna answer me one more question right, one more yeah, nice an truthful for me yeah?"

I remained quiet, still looking straight ahead, studying the front of the building, trying to date it, estimate a value if not just so that I had something else to focus on beyond the imposing man sitting beside me.

"You trust him yeah?"

The question seemed redundant to me. Stupid even. I couldn't help but smirk, struggling to bite back the laugh which escaped me.

"More than I trust you Mr Solomons," I said, "naturally..."

And when I sealed my smirk, lips a thin and unamused line etched into my expression, I left us bristling in silence for a moment. Left him looking between me and Isaiah who was waiting just outside the passenger side door.

"Well," Alfie dragged the word out, relaxing suddenly as he opened his door, "ain't that sweet eh, ain't that just lovely..." And when he got out of the car and closed the door behind him Isaiah moved to open my door, leaning in to undo my seat belt, holding my hand to help me down. Leaving my cheeks burning because he'd proved Alfie right.

AN// sorry this update has taken so long it feels like it's taken me absolutely years!!! And then when I finally post it it isn't even that long 😭💔 but j hope you enjoy it all the same and I hope I stop struggling to write very soon haha <3

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