#they raised him in a society that hated the race he came from

[unlawfulsp00n]

Omg I never see the stepbrother half-brother thing talked about and it really gets me.

EVEN FOSTER BROTHER IS 100% WRONG FOR MCU LOKI

He was adopted (properly or not) and raised next to Thor as NORMAL BROTHERS ARE.

BEING ADOPTED DOESN'T CHANGE THIS! THAT MAKES HIM THOR'S BROTHER!

And while he might biologically be Laufey's son, he never claimed the name except for when they were LYING to Malekith in the dark world! Finding out who his birth father was does not automatically mean he claims himself as his son. In fact, we shouldn't be assuming that SEEING AS HE KILLS LAUFEY AS SOON AS HE FINDS OUT, and likely holds little sentiment to the people who a) he was not raised with (raised to actively hate actually which is on BOTH Odin and Frigga) and b) as far as he knows didn't want him.

Odin sucks and Loki is welcome to not claim Odinson because of this, but he claims it as Thor's brother because he loves him, and Thor is his family.

Not Laufey

REGARDLESS of biological relations

Pet Peeves in Thor Stuff

Inspired by a few posts doing this, so thought I’d vent and get it out here.

1. MCU Loki’s Name

I don’t care what the fan-run wikis say. All the official MCU material, including the text of the actual movies themselves, call him Loki Odinson or, for a brief period, Loki of Asgard. Loki Laufeyson is the name of a character from Marvel comics, and him having that name makes sense for that character’s backstory, which is very, very different from ‘adopted at birth and a late discovery’ MCU Loki. Incidentally, Norse Mythology Loki is not Loki Laufeyson, he’s Loki Laufeyjarson, which is a matronym because Laufey is his mother in most Norse Myths.

Loki in Thor 1 was Loki Odinson, Avengers was Loki of Asgard, and he certainly seemed fond of Odin again in Ragnarok and officially reclaimed the title Odinson in IW. He’s called Odinson over and over again in official Marvel publications such as the illustrated dictionary. Please stop using the wrong name. It’s weird and wrong to assume his name MUST default to his birth-father’s upon discovery of adoption, no matter what he’d been called his whole life. Especially when I think it’s pretty clear that Loki vehemently rejects any relationship with that namesake. He literally murdered Laufey to prove to Odin he had only one father, I don’t know how he could be more clear about his preferences.

And yes, I do think that this invalidates the fan-wikis as good sources of information. If they can’t get a name right, you probably shouldn’t trust anything in the article below it. Stick with canon publications.

2. The Transformation Spell

And heck, while we’re on this page, yes, the spell keeping Loki Asgardian is Odin’s. I don’t mind fanfic that posits a different origin, because hey, we’re just trying to have fun here, do what you want and I’ve probably read a lot of it already - but this is the canon explanation, please stop messaging me to tell me I’m wrong when I say it’s Odin’s spell doing it. Also, the reason it didn’t break when Odin died is because magic can outlive the caster, as Doctor Strange said. This ain’t the Phantom Menace.

(Incidentally, this dictionary is fun and even has entries for Huginn and Muninn!)

3. Step-brothers and Half-brothers are different things and neither is correct for Thor and Loki’s relationship. Nor is Odin Loki’s step-father.

I don’t see this in the Thor Fandom much, it’s more in articles and reviews I’ve read, but it’s kinda appalling how people don’t know the difference between brothers, step-brothers, half-brothers, and blood-brothers. Not being sure who your second cousin twice removed is I get, but I would hope that these are much more commonly understood. Just to get it off my chest, even though I’m sure no-one reading has ever thought different -

Step-brothers are when two unrelated families are joined by marriage. The children share no biological parents, but their parents are married. Unless Odin married Laufey at some point, he is not Loki’s step-father, and Thor is not Loki’s step-brother. (I mean, Odin’s had a long and probably very interesting and mysterious life, so I suppose it’s POSSIBLE he had a real bender at one point, but even if he had a Vegas wedding to the King of the Frost Giants and then decided to throw away the ring as if nothing had happened, the relationship he has with Loki has always been identified as ‘Father’).

Half-brothers are when children share one biological parent, but not two. So unless that bender with Laufey got REALLY crazy, Loki is not Thor’s half-brother either.

Blood-brothers - So some people will use this phrase to refer to people who are related by blood, but that’s sort of an older phrase. However, for most elementary school kids and in the context of Norse Mythology, it has another meaning - two people, unrelated by birth, who undergo a ceremony that involves blood mixing as an oath of brotherhood. Norse-Myth Loki is usually depicted as blood-brothers with Odin (and, in a few rare stories I read, with Thor, instead, but that’s a long story about how Thor was slowly starting to replace Odin as chief patriarch and therefore subsuming a lot of his traits and relationships). However, in the MCU, neither of these meanings currently applies to Thor and Loki. They are not blood related, and they’ve not undergone any blood oath ceremony either (although you can bet your briskets I’d LOVE to see that and it’s been in my general prediction box/wish-list since 2011. Imagine how happy it’d make us to see Thor and Loki choose to have their relationship, rather than feeling like it was Odin’s decision and they’re just living with it.).

Brothers - if in doubt about any brotherly relationship, just say this and you won’t be wrong. Thor and Loki are brothers, or adopted brothers, full stop. So no more step-half-blood nonsense.

And to be clear, if you’re writing fanfic that re-imagines this relationship, this is in no way directed at you. I’m more venting at the dearth of articles, presumably written by university graduates with an English degree, who can’t seem to keep this straight.

4. Brother is a Proper Noun

While I’m on this brother train, a small grammatical note - ‘Father’, ‘Mother’, and ‘Brother’, if being used in place of a name, are proper nouns, which means they’re capitalized.

Ex. “Stop smearing your booger on my shirt, Brother.”

It’s not capitalized if it’s not being used in place of a name, but is simply referring to the noun.

Ex. 2 “My brother once ate a whole goat without noticing it was still alive.”

Ex. 3 “I never knew we had a sister.”

Sorry, sorry - but I see this mistake a lot while I’m reading and I daresay I make it myself all the time!

5. Frigga isn’t perfect

Real talk, one of my least favourite tropes in fiction is ‘Woman on a Pedestal’. I really feel it denies female characters agency if they’re made out to be perfect lovely angels loved by everyone. I’ve read a ton of great fics that explore the flaws Frigga is suggested to have in the MCU but never got the screen time to deal with, and they are some of my favourites. I’ve also read a ton where she’s endlessly patient, wise, righteous, and oh-so-much-better than that heartless Odin or oaf Thor, if only she’d been in charge the whole time, nothing would have gone wrong! It’s a matter of taste and I’d never tell anyone to not write what makes them happy, but I really do think Frigga’s a better character when you engage with her mistakes and oversights and less-than-noble aspects. Women in the MCU have really gotten a short shaft when it comes to character arcs, flaws, and general humanity. Almost all the mothers are on pedestals in it, and with that comes a lack of introspection. Frigga could be argued to be in that category, but at least there is some material to suggest her imperfections that can be exploited. (Unlike Quill and Stark’s mothers, say.)

I leave it up to everyone to interpret the character for themselves, but for me her weaknesses are that she

tends to deflect blame for her choices onto others, particularly Odin.

sometimes acts to smooth things over without really acknowledging hurt, either caused or experienced.

has a manipulative streak and isn’t afraid to leverage her sons’ affection for her to get them to do what she wants, which is often ‘smoothing things over’.

probably spoiled her kids a bit

has an allergy to giant knives

Personally I like these things about her. They come from her life as a peace-maker, both in her role as a politician and a Queen and in her role in the family. She’s loyal, clever, witty, a confidant, and had the best scene in Endgame by a long mile. Frigga is the mom we’ve seen the most of, and I would love to see more in any form.

AH…. that felt good. I might do another post on my problems with how Thor is sometimes portrayed, but that’s a whole other, very personal, thing. Thanks for reading this dumb thing.

[crimsoncandy04]

Behold, a scenario where you become the unwilling sex slave of The Balladeer.

POV: You were with The Traveler in Inazuma trying to aid the resistance. You didn't have much to say for yourself except for a bow and an electro vision that had been damaged in a fight with local samurai and was now malfunctioning during use. But one thing you had was a fighting spirit. And hope that the vision hunt decree would be abolished soon.

However such a world would never belong to you. Fate would have a more sinister plan for you as it seemed.

And that fate began to unravel the day you went with The Traveler to find the delusion factory and ended up face to face with the most egotistical harbinger out of the 12 you heard of.

The Balladeer.

You always hated him the most. And he seemed to be almost pleased with this as whenever you were in close proximity to him, he would stare you down with a strange sadistic gleam in his indigo eyes and refuse to look away until you did first due to being extremely uncomfortable.

You hated him so much.

And you hated it even more when a strange violet gas began to fill the factory and caused Aether to pass out right next to you. Thus giving you no excuse but to face the man who frankly terrified and disgusted you.

You were Fontaine born and raised thankfully. So being able to hold your breath for long periods of time was nothing. And when you saw Miko appear on the scene and prepare to rescue you, you felt so relieved that this nightmare would be over soon.

Oh how wrong you were.

"a life for a life" was the promise that was made as the gnosis exchanged hands and Miko prepared to pick up Aether and disappear with him. But just as you stepped over to join her and finally be free from the piercing gaze of Scaramouche, his voice suddenly sounded more sly and sinister than before as he reminded the priestess that she had made an exchange for ONE life. Not multiple. And that he was being "cheated" by her trying to include you in the deal without prior say.

You couldn't believe your ears. No one could. Paimon screeched that he was being unfair and begged Miko to just leave already, Miko paused in her haste to go and ultimately seemed to be thinking about something before she turned to you and gave you that same particular tone and smile.

"Oh don't make that face little one. He's right you know? Vile as the claim may be. I do feel bad for what I'm about to do, but sometimes sacrifices have to be made and your friend here is very important to our plans right now. I'll send someone to retrieve you when I can. In the meantime do try not to lose your mind. It'd be a great shame if by the time help arrived, you were nothing but a mindless and broken hostage unfit to re-enter society."

What the HELL was she saying.

"Miko...Miko wait...MIKO!" You ended up screaming as she vanished in a burst of violet particles.

You had messed up then.

In your haste to try and reach the fox lady and yell for her to please reconsider, you had opened your mouth.

All at once your fear and devastation had become rage at being left behind like YOUR life was less than and unworthy of fighting for.

You tried to calm your emotions but it was no use. You collapsed to the ground in a heap of defeat and helplessness. The last thing you saw was the silhouette of that monster slowly walking over to your unconscious body on the ground.

You felt strong yet delicate hands reach under your arms and pull you up before everything went white.

When you came to once again you were sore all over. You didn't know what happened. All you could feel in your head was an endless stinging pain that never seemed to get any better. And that was BESIDES the throbbing pain in your more sensitive areas. Particularly your nipples and clit.

You had barely opened your eyes when you realized you were completely undressed and bound to what appeared to be an operating table somewhere unfamiliar to you. Your heart raced as you tried to sit up but your wrists and ankles were chained to small metal hooks protruding from the surface of the place where you lay.

You finally screamed and began to cry for someone to help you. Anyone.

But no one came.

It felt like hours before you finally heard the voice of the LAST person you wanted to see right now in your state.

"you're finally awake. And here I thought you died before we even got fully acquainted." Scaramouche leered from somewhere behind me.

What was going on? Why was he here? WHY WAS HE SO CALM ABOUT ME BEING NAKED?

You said nothing. Just shivering as you fought the urge to vomit suddenly.

Oh archons please don't let happen what you think is about to happen...

You feel a gloved hand reach out and gently caress your cheek as the other softly ran its way through your long dark hair.

The room was dim and you couldn't see much but you could definitely feel and you honestly wished that you couldn't as you hear a small amused hum from your tormentor, his hand slowly moving down to grab hold of one of your breasts. He squeezed and seemed to be almost analyzing something you couldn't see. Yet for some reason as he cradled your head almost lovingly and fondled your medium sized assets, you feel your disgust practically drain away in an instant.

You feel yourself relax a little. The reaction was most certainly your own but it still felt very...wrong. like your brain was acting without conscience effort.

It felt like your head was tingling.

The sensation quickly moved from your head to your torso. Feeling almost like a stabbing pain until your body began to grow aroused from it. Your pussy getting wetter as you felt your nipples harden in his hands.

You hear a chuckle as you gasp and try to instinctively fight, only to feel your entire body go limp every time.

Scaramouche then chose to roughly pinch and tug on your sore nipples until you pitifully pleaded with him to stop. He didn't. Instead he pulled harder until you felt something odd embedded in your flesh.

Metal. Something like a small rod buried in your tender skin.

It felt like your heart stopped as you realized that someone had actually pierced both of your nipples while you had been out cold and likely had done the same to your poor clit. But why?

Well you soon found out.

Suddenly you feel a painful current of electro leave Scaramouche's fingertips and shock you hard. The sensation reminded you of a bite. Quick yet painful.

You knew you should have been scared. You wanted to in that moment, but it felt like the emotion was almost instantly cut short as the same pleasant tingling infiltrated your skull and quickly traveled down your back. Forcing your entire body to relax again.

"How shameful. Letting your captor turn you on like this." The harbinger jeered as you felt him release you and instead make his way over to your bound feet where he quickly went to poke and tease your now swollen and excited nub that still stung from being nonconsensually modified earlier.

"Disgusting bug. But I suppose you can't help it. Humans are after all, stupid and fragile creatures, driven by their useless little feelings and desires."

You try to keep silent as he verbally degrades you yet when you feel his cool tongue against your sore clitty, you can't help yourself and finally moan out loud.

Tears began to well up in your big brown eyes as this small sound of delight from your lips seemed to encourage him to continue.

He held your knees apart as he focused solely on overstimulating your pleasure spot and as much as you didn't want to, you could feel yourself getting closer to climaxing.

"Please! Please don't! I can't!" You whine as you feel him moan against your sex and send even more unwanted vibrations throughout your core.

He doesn't stop until you end up creaming on his face. Even then he continues to suck and lick your clit until you're practically begging him for mercy and on the verge of cumming for a third time in a row.

Every time the same tingling would take away all of your negative emotions and make you actively CRAVE Scaramouche's touch.

You hated that you loved this so much.

And if anything, the more Scaramouche made you cum, the more you could almost feel your brain associating him with just that. Warping your old perception of him slowly but surely.

Until in your mind, he became the source of the only pleasant feelings that kept you sane amidst the darkness.

He did eventually fuck you, but it wasn't for a long time. And it was because YOU begged him to.

You didn't know what had come over you. All you knew was that you needed him one night like never before.

You found yourself kneeling at his feet and kissing his feet begging to be used even though a small dying voice in the back of your mind found it odd.

After what must've been days in the dim room you originally woke up in, you were blindfolded and taken elsewhere.

And this one singular lavish bedroom that stayed locked from the outside at all times would be your new home.

At least that's what your master had told you.

You weren't sure when you started calling him that. In fact a lot of your memories seemed to be gone or hazy.

But you didn't care.

You just wanted n-no you NEEDED your master now. You needed his cruelty and his kindness. You wanted nothing else.

Every day he would visit you in your playroom, you sat waiting by the door every time you heard the knob, crouched and ready to crawl to him and greet him eagerly after a long day like the bitch you now were. Complete with a cute collar and tail too! Not to mention the ears...

You'd happily wait for Scaramouche to free his cock from the confines of his shorts and smirk as he ordered you to service him like a good girl and swallow his seed. You never once disobeyed him. Not that you wanted to.

You knew that insubordination would result in you being tied up and having electricity ran through your piercings repeatedly until you peed yourself in humiliation and cried. Only then would your master release you. Once you began to plead for forgiveness and were reduced to nothing but a wailing and pitiful little creature.

No.

You always did what you were told because the rewards were so much better than you ever imagined.

If you succeeded in your efforts and made him finish quickly, you were fucked raw and hard by him until your belly began to swell from the constant flow of hot cum that was fucked into your womb as a prize for your obedience.

And on certain days, you were even given kisses and massages. Especially if he was in a good mood and hadn't rewarded you in a long time.

Your new life was simple. You were the harbinger's plaything. You remained locked away and cherished sensually as time seemed to go on and on without change.

In fact, the day someone broke into your bedroom and immediately scooped you up in a blanket and declared in a hushed tone that they were freeing you, nothing happy came from hearing these words for you.

No no no.

You WANTED your master!

You didn't want to be out there!

But it was no use. The person had a glider and had flown away with you during the night before anyone could take notice.

And ever since then your entire life had been miserable.

He called himself Aether.

He said he was your friend. But you couldn't remember anything he was talking about no matter how hard you tried. Hasn't master always been your only company?

He and others spoke about scary things like microchips in someone's brain and memories being distorted as a form of control.

You wanted to go home so badly. It was scary out here.

Your only solace was the fact that your master hadn't completely left you yet. You dreamt of him kissing you again. You could practically see him around you like a phantom sometimes, telling you that you were still his good girl.

And one day as you felt a small kick in your belly, you swore you could hear him laughing from somewhere far away.

You needed to be with him again.

[multiplefandomwritings]

self-made now you're self-paid with your own plans

pairing: Charles Leclers x female!storeowner!reader                                

warnings: none really

request by @rebelwrites: Hey hun any chance I can request a fic for Charles Leclerc, so basically the reader is his girlfriend and just a normal girl who runs her own small business but is struggling to make ends meet and doesn’t tell anyone because she doesn’t want the world to know she’s struggling and doesn’t want to people to think she is using Charles. So, she ends up picking up a second job eg parcel delivering or something she can do as a self-employed person and she has little time to breathe let alone fly out to races ect and that’s when Charles realises something isn’t right with his girl so he does something to surprise her once the season is over because he hates seeing her so down and stressed

notes: feel free to leave comments and/or feedback. likes and reblogs are always appreciated! also, feel free to send in requests!

disclaimer: english is not my first language, so please excuse any mistakes 😊

word count: 3.4k

Monaco is a beautiful, beautiful country. You were born and raised in the colorful and busy streets of one of the richest places in the world. Your family definitely wasn’t poor, but you also didn’t play in the league that many other people living in Monaco reigned in. You are not a movie star, a singer, an actress or a star athlete. No, you are just you – and you mean that in a way to put yourself down. You are just unapologetically you, and you are really proud of that.

While most of your friends at the elite school you visited decided to study business or law or finance at some prestige university in Monaco or even overseas, you decided to turn your passion into your profession. While taking some evening online classes on how to open a business, you opened your own little store in one of Monaco’s busy vendor streets. The store combined your many crafting abilities. You offered the materials, but also the finished products. You crotched and sewed unique pieces of clothes and bags, as well as pillowcases, stuffed animals, and other items. Self-made jewelry and hand painted mugs are gracing the shelves of your little store. In one corner, different kinds of flowers are presented from which costumers could decide which flowers they wanted for the little bouquets you loved to make. In short, the store offered everything if one was on the lookout for a special and unique present.

This was also what brought the famous Charles Leclerc into your store. Looking for a present for his mother for Mother’s Day, he had walked into your store. You greeted him with a little paint stain on your cheek and a messy bun, yet he somehow fell head over heels for you. He adored how down to earth and hardworking you were. That day, he left with a present that made him his mother’s favorite child for a while, and your number in his phone.

He insisted to organize the first date and took you out for a fancy dinner. It was nice, to be part of Monaco’s high society for a night, even if it was just for a few hours. But it didn’t matter, because Charles made you feel like royalty, like you were special at any given moment. You didn’t need to be part of high society if you were with him because he treated you like you were a queen.

Of course, you knew who he was, as he was part of Monaco´s finest. For a while, you were afraid that the two of you wouldn’t work out, as your lives were so different, and you were afraid that you simple weren’t enough. But that changed when on your third date the two of you sat on the floor of your atelier for hours, painting on canvases and mugs and Charles not once was afraid of getting his hands dirty. He never did, actually. When he wasn’t away, he even came and helped you out at the store sometimes, standing behind the cashier and advising costumers. One time you came out of your atelier to find Charles gushing to some costumes about your crafts, and it left you with a very warm feeling in your chest.

However, it wasn’t always easy. While most of the other drivers had girlfriends that could made space in their schedules to fly out and visit, you barely could do that. The weekends were essential to your income and being gone from your business for more than two days wasn’t working for you. You still tried as much as possible, sometimes flying out for a day only to see him race on Sundays and fly back home immediately. It made you and Charles equally unhappy, but he understood and supported you, nonetheless. He couldn’t be prouder of you and your achievements that you worked hard for, more often than not working long and tiring hours. He knows that you are not like other wags - that you don’t have as much time to come and visit him at races. Sometimes he selfishly wishes that you had more time, but he knows that he would rip you away from the thing you love the most – your little store and your arts and crafts.

At the moment, it is especially hard. Charles is gone almost every weekend, sometimes not even coming home in between because he doesn’t have the time. You understand that, you really do. And you are also insanely busy right now. Still, it isn’t nice to only see your boyfriend for few days every three weeks. You make it work though, your love and commitment for one another as strong as ever. You call whenever you can, even though there is a time difference in most places where he currently races. Most nights, he is afraid to wake you up, but usually you are still up working, even when he calls in the middle of the night. It worries him, sometimes. But he knows that arguing doesn’t help with your stubbornness, so he usually just asks you to make sure that you stay healthy and get enough sleep. You nod, knowing that you certainly do not get enough sleep at the moment.

Times are hard for your business right now. You feel like just your store isn’t enough anymore, you need an online presence. It is inevitable in current times. You don’t have the money to hire someone, so you decide that it couldn’t be that hard to set up a website by yourself. Turns out, you are naïve, and sleep is overrated. After a week of hard and dedicated work you have managed to set up a website that lives up to your perfectionist standards. You are, after all, an artist. An Instagram account follows soon after. You refrain from following Charles, because you don’t want to appear like you use him for the cloud.

You sadly had to let go of your assistant just recently, as the owner of your building had increased rent. You would’ve looked for another place, but the location of the store was just too good to be given up. Furthermore, the fact that your apartment was located just above the store made many things easier for you. So, you had no real other choice than to suck it up and pay the much higher rent. Letting go of your assistant however meant that your workload increased drastically. You had to take orders over the phone, take care of the deliveries yourself. You still produced most of the stuff in your store yourself, but you had to order materials as well as some products that you offered but didn’t craft yourself. In short, it was a lot of work, and you felt increasingly stressed about it.

The good thing about all of it is that Charles is just as busy as you, which means he doesn’t realize how stressed out you actually are. He usually isn’t there much more than two or three days in between the races, and you can afford to close the store one of these days. The others, you work a little less, only 6-8 hours, not the 16 hours you normally have on your clock on a long day.

Today is an especially shitty day at work. You take a moment to catch your breath. Why on Earth did the elevator have to be out of order in this particular building with 15 stories? And why did your client wanted something delivered to the highest floor? You utter a short but very heartfelt “fuck” when you catch a glimpse of your own reflection. Quickly, you brush the strands of hair that stick to your slightly sweaty forehead out of the way, trying to look somewhat representable after all. You walk to the door of the apartment on the address and wonder for a moment, why everything looks so familiar in this building. You ring the doorbell and when the door is opened, you know why you recognize the building. A soft “oh” escapes your mouth before you catch yourself again and smile at the man before you. “Hey Daniel!” “What are you doing here, y/n?”, Daniel asks you, confusion etched into his features. You hold up the packages in your hand. “Bringing your delivery?”

“That is your store? I never knew, my girlfriend loves your stuff, and some of the best presents I have ever gifted are from there!” You smile shyly. “Yeah, I ask Charles to not tell anyone, I don’t want it to come off as I am using him to push my business!” Daniel shakes his head. “Y/n, you have been with Charles for what now, four years?” You nod your head. “Well, not once have I heard you trying to use Charles for anything, so don’t you worry about that! Especially because you don’t need Charles for that, your store is a fucking lifesaver and just generally amazing!” “Thank you, Daniel!”, you smile at the man before you and then look at your watch, “I would love to chat more, but I need to get back to the store. How about we meet for dinner with Heidi and Charles soon?” “Sounds great, have a good day!” You bit the Australian goodbye and make your way down the stairs.

Later that day, when it is already dark outside, your phone rings. Charles is calling from overseas, tired after a tough day at qualifying. For half an hour you chat until your respective day, exchanging some loving words, just enjoying each other’s presence. “Daniel told me you delivered his order personally today. Is your assistant sick?”, Charles suddenly asks, and your heart drops down your knees. You had prayed that Daniel would not mention it, that he would just forget about it. For a moment you are angry at the Australian, but then you remember it is not his fault. He possibly didn’t have any foul intentions when he told Charles. You take a deep breath. “She´s okay, but I –“, another deep breath, “I had to let her go.” Charles perks up, you can see him straighten out in his chair. “My landlord raised the rent, and I simply couldn´t have afforded the store and my apartment anymore if I had kept her.” Charles brows furry in concern now and your heart drops a bit further down. “Why didn’t you tell me, mon amour?” You sigh, and your face falls.

He doesn’t sound mad; he sounds concerned and worried and a bit hurt. You sigh. “I am sorry, Charles. I just didn’t want to bother you with that, you have so much on your plate already!” “Please, my plate could be filled to the brim and there would always be space for your problems as well!” “Thank you, love”, you tell him. For a moment, Charles just looks at you. “You know that it is okay to ask for help, right?”, he tells you and you sigh. “I know Charles, but I want to manage this by myself.” He nods. “I admired that you want to do this by yourself, I am just saying that I am here for whatever you need me for.” The two of you continue to talk for another hour, before Charles is tired and needs to sleep. You look at the clock and groan when you see, what time it is. You will have to get up in just a few hours, even earlier than normally, to pick up fresh flowers from the market.

The next weeks fly by in a blur. You haven’t really seen Charles for a while now, which is hard. Now, you are excitedly looking forward to the next week though because you had decided to fly out to Charles last race of the season and go on some well-deserved time off right after. It would only be a week and a half, but it was the first time you had some sort of vacation for a long time. And you get to spend that time off with Charles, which makes it even better.

The weekend goes surprisingly good, Charles landing on the podium. You claim it is because he is a great driver, he claims it is because you are his lucky charm. He kisses you in front of all the media and you don’t mind. You keep your relationship private, but not secret. After the race, you join him and the other drivers for the celebrations. You know most of them, you are even friends with a few. You also talk to the other wags, even though you usually feel a bit out of place. It is not like they give you that feeling, it is more because their lives are so different. They are all amazing and talented and so, so good looking. You admire them and have only positive feelings towards them – just sometimes it is hard to find a topic to talk about.

The celebrations run long, and the next morning Charles and you sleep in until midday. He treats the two of you with breakfast in bed ordered to your room, and afterwards you get ready to head back to Monaco. The plane trip is long, and you spend most of it sleeping. The two of you have decided to spend your time off in Monaco, using the time to also catch up with friends and taking out the yacht a few times. Towards the end of your time off, you get a bit anxious, nervous about all the work surrounding your store. Charles picks that up and tries his best to ease you out of it. He gives you a lot of reassurance and takes you for some spa treatments.

You are significantly more relaxed by the end of your vacation, and dread going back to work a bit. However, when you step into the store on Monday morning, you are happy. You missed your store and once again realize that this is your passion. The next week is full like usually, but you have found the fun behind all of this again. Charles keeps you company, sometimes he just sits next to you when you crotched a new stuffed animal. Also, he runs errands for you when you need it and just tries to help where he can.

Which is also why you give in when he asks you to take another day off. He had asked your best friend if she could take over the store for you and obviously, she says yes. Charles and you spent an amazing day – well, an amazing first half of the day until your friend calls you in the late afternoon to tell you that one of the pipes is leaking all over your store.

You almost lose your mind – if the damage would be bad, it would mean your entire store, your entire living was gone. Charles immediately drives you over, parking the car as close as possible. You rush out, and in your panic, you don’t even realize the tables and chairs that surround your store. Maybe a new coffee shop opened next to you? You rush in. The store is dark, and when you turn the light on, it blinds you for a moment. You scan for damage, but instead you are met with an orderly store, so clean it is almost shining. New lights have been put in, perfectly illuminated the different shelves of your store. There are balloons and decorations you haven’t seen before. In one corner, a buffet is built up and you are beyond confused.

Before you can ask Charles a question, someone knocks on the door and enters. You are even more confused when you see Daniel standing there, smiling widely, Heidi right next to him. “Hey!”, the Aussie greets you, “I am sorry if I am a bit early, but Heidi was so excited to attend the event in honor of your Social Media launch!” You are honestly flabbergasted. “Uhm…”, you say, “Welcome guys!” Then you turn to Charles. “Could I have a minute?”

You pull him by the sleeve of his shirt into the atelier of the store and look at him puzzled. “What is going on here, Charles?”, you inquire. He nervously scratches the back of his hand with one hand. “You were so stressed out these past months about your store. When I realized that you made an Instagram account and didn’t tell me, I was worried and confused. Then you told me about the increase in rent and how you were afraid that you wouldn’t be able to pay it anymore. I know you would never accept my money and I admire that, so I came up with a plan: I organized a launch event for you – which by the way starts in 45 minutes – and invited all our friends.” For a moment you debate whether you should be angry at him, but the puppy eyes look he gives you makes you realize that he only tried to help you.

“I… Don’t know what to say…”, you tell him, and he gives you a tiny smile. “I am sorry for not telling you, but you would never have allowed me to do this if I had asked. I just wanted to tell you that it is okay to ask for help, especially the people we love. And I finally want to show everyone how proud I am off you and of what you have managed to achieve. You truly are an artist, and I want the world to see that I have the most talented girlfriend!” His words have brought tears to your tears, which you try to swallow down. Instead of saying anything, you take a step forward and throw yourself into Charles arms. “Thank you!”, you mumble into his chest. Charles pulls away and looks at you. “Anything, and I mean that, anything for you, my love!” He presses a gently kiss to your lips and then pulls you into another hug.

“By the way”, he says when you pull away, “You look absolutely gorgeous, but there is a dress hanging in your bathroom upstairs. Lando is coming to take pictures for your Instagram account, so in case you want to change.” You shake your head and laugh. “Charles Leclerc, you really are incredible!” You race upstairs to change in the gorgeous dress Charles bought you. It is in your favorite color and matches the colors present at your store. It fit you perfectly, and when you came back in the store, Charles eyes were immediately on you. He comes over to pull you in a hug and a sweet kiss and you almost get lost in the morning, until you hear the shutter of a camera click. “Lando!”, Charles scolds the man, and he lifts his hands in mock defense, “We were having a moment here!” You laugh and Charles smiles, so all of you know it is not serious. You move in to hug the man who is your friend as well and are just about to say something, when someone puts an arm around your shoulder.

“I am sorry to interrupt, but Heidi desperately needs your help and guidance with some of your pieces!”, Daniel says and already pulls you with him. You are more than happy to help and immediately engage in a conversation with his girlfriend. Soon after, the store is flooded with people who chatter happily, and are in awe with the store you call your own. You yourself are beaming with happiness, almost flying around on cloud seven. When you check your phone, your Instagram account has reached many more followers, and most of the drivers have tagged your store in their story. People keep on pouring in for hours, until way into the night. By the end, your store looks almost plundered.

Only your close friends are still there, helping you clean up the mess. You look at the empty shelves when Charles finds you, wrapping his arms around your hips from behind. “Thank you, mon amour”, you whisper, gratitude embedded in every fiber of your being. “There is only one problem now: I will have to work on a lot of new stuff the next week!”, you laugh and so does Charles and for now it seems like your life is pretty damn close to being perfect.

[telekineticseance]

FASCINATION STREET

pairing: professor! trey parker x f! reader

summary: you’re a foreign exchange student for a semester of your senior year of college in japan where you have a new professor

genre: fluff

word count: 1121

cw: legal age gap

author’s note: this is like the trey version of ‘circumstances’ and i’m in love with the idea of him moving to japan and becoming a professor if his career in film didn’t work out so here we are. this is also a really short first chapter but i'm mainly just trying to roll in smoothly with this one.

You always hated university. It wasn’t the school that was the problem. It was the fact that if you didn’t choose a local school, your parents wouldn’t pay for it. So you spent 3 years at a university where instead of learning how to be an adult and adapt to society, you came home every day to your parents smothering you. The best part though was that while the students that traveled for school usually lived off ramen, you were able to come home to a home cooked meal.

But when the university asked if you were interested in studying abroad for the first semester of your senior year, you definitely opted for the option that wasn’t coming home to be your mother’s little pookie bear every night. It was simple, you stayed in Japan for a semester, continuing your courses online through your university and having a few in person. You were mainly excited for the fact that you wouldn’t have to be home all the time and be able to see another country. I mean you already had your schedule practically planned out for you.

Everything was going to run smoothly, that was until you had your first day with your new professors. You didn’t realize how different the in person University would be and although you had always been good when it comes to school work, you felt yourself struggling. And it didn’t help that you were attracted to your English Comp professor.

You sat in your chair from across the room, watching your professor ramble on about the different writing styles and how teachers who judge others for their writing techniques were the worst kind of teachers.. He talked with his hands as you watched him closely, seeing him pace back and forth, marker in his hand. You were pretty sure you were the only student that was attracted to him because well, he wasn’t the most attractive guy around but something about him made you like him..a lot. Maybe it was the fact he seemed to be genuinely passionate about the course he taught, along with during the free period in which you were his aid, he would always find ways to make you laugh.

He finished his rant and looked around the class to make sure everyone was paying attention, you felt as though his eyes had lingered on you for a small moment before he went back to the board and started writing down the writing prompt for the week he was setting up for the class. “Does anyone want to run the class through the writing process one more time?” He asked, turning to look at the class. Everyone kept their hands down and he looked over at your direction, “Come on Y/N you know it right?”

Your lips parted in shock as he pointed at you before leaning against his desk with his arms crossed across his chest. You felt your heart race slightly under his gaze before answering softly, “Invention, Drafting, Revising, Editing.”

“Sorry I didn't quite get that.” He said, raising an eyebrow at you. “Invention, Drafting, Revising, Editing,” You spoke up and he nodded while grinning at you, “That’s right.”

He glanced at the time before putting the marker down at the white board, “Alright. Get out. You’re all free to leave.” The class shook their heads while laughing to themselves before packing their bags and leaving. You finished packing up your own bag before walking up to the front of the class where your Professor sat at his desk, writing on his laptop.

“Hey Professor Parker,” You started before he looked at you through the corner of his eyes with a small grin on his face, “I told you, you can call me Trey.”

You shrugged, “It seems informal. I’ve never called a professor by their first name before.” He chuckled as he stopped typing and turned his attention towards you. “I’m shocked that in this week we’ve been with each other you haven’t realized I’m not really a formal guy.”

He wasn’t wrong. You were surprised he had a job honestly. He usually showed up in a t-shirt and jeans with his hair messy. Most of his lessons he’d say cuss words through it as well, and even go on random rants about the film industry. And then during the time of you two being alone, he would always ask for your help during lesson planning and insisted you referred to him by his first name. Trey. It was simple but you liked it. But you never found yourself using it, which he would tease you for every time you called him Professor Parker. You even tried Mr.Parker one time but you hated the way it made you feel so you stuck to Professor.

“Did you have a question?” He asked, breaking you away from your thoughts. You nodded in response, “I was kind of having a hard time understanding how serious this writing is supposed to be. Because most of the examples were on things like reproductive rights but if I wrote an opinionated piece on Robert Smith being one of the best musicians of our time would that count?”

He chuckled, looking up at you from his desk, “I mean if you chose to write that specific topic I would need much persuading which defeats the purpose of the assignment.”

“So you think Robert Smith is the best musician of our time?” You asked, stifling a laugh to yourself. He shrugged, leaning back in his chair, twiddling a pen in his fingers. “Maybe not the best but he is definitely up there with a few others.”

“I had no idea you liked The Cure.” He grinned at you, biting the tip of his pen before leaning forward back in his chair, “There’s a lot you don’t know about me Miss Y/N.” He spoke, looking up at you. You pulled away from his gaze and he cleared his throat slightly, “So to answer your question, you can write whatever you want. Just as long as you are good at persuading me to be on the same side as you.”

You nodded, you still weren’t quite sure what to write about but you had a week to do it so it wouldn’t be too hard. Maybe eventually it will come to you. “Any other questions?” You shook your head in response and he nodded, “Well then. I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Yes Professor Parker.” You responded, picking up your bag and throwing it over your shoulder as you started heading out the door.

“It’s Trey!” Was the last thing you heard before the door shut behind you and you walked down the hall.

[unlawfulsp00n]

Seriously though, how can you watch the first Thor movie and think "Loki turned evil and betrayed Asgard and his family"

He was raised in a society that hated the Jotuns, believing they were monsters that need to be slain, and was 100% terrified that that now included him, and felt like he needed to prove he wasn't one of them.

He can't be one of those monsters if he kills them all

(not to mention the fact that Thor literally does the exact same thing at the beginning of the movie and no one seems to have an issue with his actions by the end, yet Loki is evil for trying the same thing with way more sympathetic reasons)

Thinking about the fact that Loki's first action after discovering his heritage wasn't to find revenge for the betrayal, but to instead immediatly try to prove himself to Asgard and Odin by literally killing his biological father in front of Odin's eyes. Loki was angry, sure, but more than that, he was scared. Scared to lose his life and to be cast out by his family. (Which Odin literally ended up doing in the end lmao, A+ parenting indeed)

[mothman-dyke]

Writing all of this out does make me feel a little "pictures pinned to a corkboard connected by red string" but in the days following the election I find it less and less surprising that Donald Trump won. It's a confirmation of what we've always known to be true-- that society and America fucking hates women. (Obviously people of color, immigrants, gays as well but this is a post about misogyny.) And I allowed myself to maintain some hope-- that people were broadly well intentioned, that the majority of Americans would not choose, after everything, to bring him into office again. This hope was a mistake; it was a mistake back in 2016 when he was elected in the face of his misogyny and violence against women and it was a mistake this time.

we bear responsibility for this in many ways. Not least among them is the rise of a very specific strain of misogyny and woman-hate, one cultivated and spread in MRA, MGTOW, and incel circles, but in no way limited or insular. This brand of misogyny has become ubiquitous in our culture and crept into liberal, progressive, and leftist spaces, where we handwring about how really, men are the biggest victims, and the male loneliness epidemic, and meanwhile label any attempt at feminist thought or (God forbid) activism as white feminism, TERF-ery, etc. this misogyny, which we have, as much as anyone else, allowed to proliferate, is the bread and butter of male trump voters. (Take a peek at some of what those guys are saying on Twitter and threads!)

So the part of this where I start feeling very corkboard-and-thread is that I think the writing was on the wall for years and my big example of this? 2022: Depp v Heard. Remember that misogynistic hate campaign against a woman who dared to speak out about a mans violence towards her? Remember the #edgy tiktoks mocking her rape testimony, the sex toys mimicking her account of her assault, the endless mockery under the guise of "supporting male victims" (support which btw ended at Depp lol did y'all see them advocating for anyone else?) this huge cultural event embodies and reflects our attitude about women AND men. Fuck women who speak out! And we'll do anything for a man if he played a pirate in a movie that was good 20 years ago, or if he promises cheaper gas. Misogyny is the same and in that moment people across political parties came together to say "yeah, fuck women! Woman-hate is ok/good/funny/great!"

The other thing is just a rise in complete disrespect and dismissal for feminist thought, theory, activism in leftist, progressive, and liberal spaces. There is a real hostility towards feminists in these spaces regardless of the fact that many of them consider themselves pro feminist "safe spaces" feminists who have been raising the alarm about incels, men's rights activism, MGTOW, depp-fans, progressive misogyny, or just plain ol sexism have been written off as hysterical or characterized as bigots-- regardless of whether or not they are inclusive and intersectional, or even trans/women of color themselves.

We wanna think we have nothing to do with this but we do! We wanna think we didn't do this but we did! We have allowed woman-hate to rise and flourish and now we're upset with the results. All the while the same women who have raised alarms from the start, will be dismissed and told that our oppression isn't real or cause for concern in the face of the other, "real" oppression of others.

There isn't like a point to this it's just a shout into the void from someone who sees men bragging about how they own and control the bodies of women in America, and who has to live in one of those bodies every day.

The moral I am choosing is not to give up hope. It is that I will strip the blinders from my eyes. America hates women. America wants women in chains, unable to vote, barefoot and pregnant and beaten, raped, and dead. The moral I am choosing is that I'll continue to funnel my energy into my fellow women, of all classes races sexualities and abilities and do better. The moral is also that I'll stop even pretending patience for the patriarchal bullshit spewing from across the political spectrum.

[darkurgetrash]

BG3 Backstory Bash by Kelandrin

Introducing Volyrr - a.k.a, my Dark Urge!

Thank you to @charmedcleric and @auspex-author for this tag!! I'm a bit late to it because I wanted to do it for my durge character Volyrr (he/they) but my computer deleted all my screenshots of him & his save file off my memory stick (laptop went for repairs) because it hates him. 😔 Now that I've healed from that annoyance and have restarted his save file... on with the tag! I tag @thisisagift-youknow, @savriea, and @thegoblinwitchqueen ~ no pressure!

AN: I have ideas to eventually write a prequel Durgetash fanfic using Volyrr. If you think that's something you might be interested in, (it won't be for a while) you might not want to read the following as there will be heavy spoilers!

Baby:

Birth/Parents:

Volyrr's father is Bhaal who, of course, poofed him into the world. He was created to be a Lolth-sworn drow to put fear into the heart of his enemies, however, before he could be found by Drow in the Underdark, he was discovered by a Myconid colony who took him in and raised him as their own.

First word / tantrum / walk / sickness:

He communicated with Myconid's through telepathy, so his technical first word wasn't actually until he was six, when he said 'thank you' in common to a travelling merchant who'd gifted him an apple from the surface.

Childhood:

Friends:

Volyrr had friendships within the Myconid colony and was wary of any outsiders. He never met another child throughout his whole childhood as Myconid's are created, not born, and children don't tend to explore the Underdark. Because of this, his main friendships outside of family came from animals of the Underdark - especially the rothe.

Siblings:

He did not have siblings in a typical manner - the whole Myconid colony were his caregivers without any distinctive roles.

Getting into trouble:

He rarely got into trouble as there wasn't much potential to; he was well disciplined by the colony and taught that peace was the ultimate way of life.

Birthday:

The concept of 'birthday' was foreign to him during his childhood. Later in life, he decided to just tell people it was the same day as Winter Solstice because it was easy to remember.

Games / Learning something new:

Because of his unique upbringing, he developed druidic powers (Circles of Spores, for obvious reasons) very early. His favourite game was to transform into a rothe and race against his animal friends. He was a very athletic kid.

Trauma:

He was a happy child, content living the Myconid way of life because he didn't know there was any other alternative. He, of course, experienced deaths within the colony - but was taught that death was a beautiful inevitability. He didn't fear it.

Teenager:

Rebellion / Running away:

I moved this label to the top of this section as it's important for clarifying the rest. When he started puberty (age 20) he also started developing the Dark Urges™ from papa Bhaal. It wasn't long until he was cast out of his colony as they revered peace even above family and could sense his urges through their telepathic bond. The urges became worse after leaving the colony and lead him to the surface, where he spent the majority of his time in wild form, hunting down prey to satisfy his urges.

Reckless behaviour:

Volyrr was reckless in murdering adventurers, not knowing the laws of the land. He was caught in the act many times but his druidic magic was powerful and witnesses didn't stand a chance. He only got seriously hurt a handful of times and was able to escape and heal himself with medicine proficiency.

First love:

After some decades of living mostly in wild form, Volyrr had learnt a lot about surface society by watching passing adventurers and had picked up a good amount of common - though was a selective-mute who rarely spoke. He travelled to Baldur's Gate and there met a fellow run-away - Enver Gortash, who was of the same proportional age (late-teen). Volyrr's quiet disposition and Enver's chatty, outgoing personality made for a compatible dynamic, and so they became fast friends. Volyrr quickly developed a crush on Enver; the first person to ever bother getting to know him as people were always put off by his drow birth and mutism.

Peer pressure:

Some years later, Gortash was recruited by the cult of Bane and pressured Volyrr into joining him. After doing so, Volyrr started receiving direct communication from his father in the form of Sceleritas Fel and decided to join the cult of Bhaal instead. This caused a rift in his and Enver's relationship and they fell out as a result.

Taking responsibility:

Volyrr was never forced to take responsibility for his crimes as there were never any surviving witnesses to them and he was encouraged by the cult of Bhaal to continue his murdering ways.

Adulthood:

Aging:

Again, I moved this to the top just for consistency's sake! Volyrr ages as a normal drow - reaching adolescence at age 20 and adulthood at 80. At the start of Baldur's Gate 3, he is in his mid-nineties.

Their "first time":

His first time was with Enver after they reunited over a decade after falling out, now both the chosen of their gods. It had happened spontaneously after they'd gotten drunk celebrating having stolen the Crown of Karsus.

Serious relationships:

After his first time with Enver, the two started acting more as a couple than just friends/partners in crime. The two never labelled their relationship and weren't exclusive, but Enver was his first love and first relationship.

After losing his memories during the events of Baldur's Gate 3, he entered into a serious relationship with Astarion and later Halsin as a polycule. When he re-met Enver in Baldur's Gate, he had no recollection of the relationship they once had and was convinced by Halsin to kill him rather than partner with him; ending the archduke's reign of terror.

Work:

Before BG3, he was the chosen of Bhaal and ran the cult of Bhaal. After the events of BG3, he returns to the Underdark with Astarion and the other vampire spawn, helping to source food for them.

Finding your place:

When Volyrr had woken up on the Nautiloid, the only memories he had were of his childhood before the urges began - this meant that he had advanced knowledge of the Underdark and still largely considered it his home. This is one of the reasons he chose to join Astarion in the Underdark rather than stay with Halsin on the surface - the other reason being that he knew Astarion would need him more. Halsin didn’t join the two, not able to leave nature behind, and so they departed amicably as friends.

Starting a family/ Found family:

Volyrr had travelled only with Astarion and Halsin, loving them both with his whole heart. After moving to the Underdark with Astarion, he considered the vampire spawn to be his new family, thinking it reminiscent of the Myconid colony he grew up in... also, he adopts a Bulette as his pet, names it Meatball, and uses it to ride around like a horse. 🫡

Thanks for reading this essay of a character background!😆 I hope it all makes sense and has minimal typos because I just proper smashed it out. I just love my guy so much and I hope that you do too now.🥺❤️ It'll be fun to eventually write fanfic for him. I might do another one of these posts for Tavlyn after finishing LMTTD, but I with hold off for now because spoilers. 😉 xo

[kaijuboarcreations]

Maybe I'm just talking to the wind here but now that the Bvz tag is blowing up to unexpected proportions I want to put my two cents out there for a couple of things. Also spoilers are a big part of this so read at your own risk.

The fact that Barok is racist is an obvious character flaw and not a good thing clearly. It is never stated to be a good thing, it was never put in place as a way to try to justify racism. Why would a Japanese team make a game with a Japanese protag and try to paint racism against Japanese people as a good thing? They also wrote Barok to be an adversary and in many ways esp in game one he plays the role as the xenophobic British empire itself trying to beat down a foreigner. But that being said he is still his own character and that becomes more clear in game two. There's no shortage of racism for racism's sake in the games. Several witnesses and perpetrators like Asa Shin/Jezale Brett, are racist because they live in a society that perpetuates the idea that the British Empire is above the rest of the world.

So let's look back at Barok. As we find out, he was raised in a household were likely his first interaction with any Japanese person on a personal level was in the form of Genshin, who was his older brother's friend and colleague. He looked up to his brother and consequently looked up to Genshin until the Professor situation came about. Obviously we learn that the trauma that Barok experienced at the loss of his brother was not really Genshin's fault (but you know vigilantism may not have been the best answer to the situation he and Klint found themselves in) and obviously it was not the fault of the Japanese populous as a whole. Trauma can make you do shitty things. Does it justify them. Absolutely the fuck not. Even if Genshin was the Professor and Klint was an innocent victim it still would justify nothing. That being said, grief has a way of creating irrational emotional connections to certain things and given that Barok lived in a time where mental health surrounding grief and depression were either never addressed or landed you in a facility were they basically tried to torture the sad out of you meant there was no way for him to get assistance in breaking out of his emotional cycle. Place on top of that, he would have been surrounded by people in British society who would have validated his racism, and now he has an easy scapegoat for his grief. Does that mean it's ok. Again of course not. Even van Zieks himself admits to that.

If van Zieks racism prevents you from enjoying him as a character, no judgement at all. But if you think anyone who likes him is some kind of racism apologist, that just seems like a very unfair judgment.

For one thing he is a fictional character. Liking a character who does bad things is not a reflection on someone's moral compass.

On top of that everything i said above about van Zieks comes down to a very important conclusion, and one that has led me through the transition of hating him with a burning passion to coming to love him. By the end of GAAC he absolutely can and seems to want to get better. Even in the last case where he admits to himself and Ryunosuke that his racist comments are unawarented, wrong, and unfair... that's progress. Even if its miniscule. All Barok wants is the closure he never got and by the end of the last case he has it and can begin his road to recovery. One which Kazuma of all people is willing to stand by him for. You can see through the course of the second game that he makes fewer hits at Ryunosuke's race (simply referring to him as "learned friend"). He intends to make progress. He was not always racist and he doesn't have to be for the rest of his life. Doesn't mean it was ok for him to be and that he shouldn't apologize and make up for his actions. It doesn't mean that anyone is required to forgive him either. But liking a character for intending to make progress doesn't make someone a bad person or apologist. Id argue it's the opposite. As I said I hated Barok for a good chunk of game play and maybe him not having the chance to do a whole lot to make up for himself in game isn't enough by some standards but at the end of the day it was Ryunosuke's story not his, and it seems the writers were intent to say Barok's story goes on from here and the end of Ryunosuke's exploits in London are marking a new beginning for Barok in which we as the player can read into in our own way. Because I highly doubt we'll be getting a spinoff of a spinoff featuring the man. Maybe I'm just an optimist who wants to see the best in this particular character idk.

[effelants]

Character Dossier: Vierna

Name: Vierna (II) Do’Urden

Race: Drow (raised as a half-drow)

Born: 1438 DR, aged 54 in 1492

Class: Druid (Circle of Spores)

Alignment: True neutral to neutral good

Personality: Withdrawn, comes across as bluntness. Unaffected. Detached. Slow to trust. Kind. Gentle. Loving. Caring. Passionate. Eager. Yearns for experiences. Lonely.

Primary character motivation: To experience.

Backstory (going back slightly too many generations...) below the cut.

Dinin Do’Urden, son of Malice and Rizzen Do’Urden, sired a son after the destruction of House Do’Urden (1339 DR) and before being turned into a drider at the hands of his sister, Vierna (I) Do’Urden. His son, Dinoq Do'Urden, was born in 1350 DR, when Dinin was working for the mercenary band Bregan D'aerthe. His son’s mother was Quara, a commoner of the farming district of Eastmyr, where she worked in the fields of House Hunzrin. She and Dinin met while Dinin was on a job for the Bregan D'aerthe, and she saw the disgraced, self-involved, cowardly — but still noble — Dinin as an opportunity. She charmed him and married him, declared herself a Do’Urden, and set about plotting for the restoration of the house with her at its helm.

Her plans came to a screaming halt after the death of Dinin in 1357 DR. Fearing backlash, Quara took her son and escaped to the surface, finally settling in Baldur’s Gate in 1358 DR.

Dinoq was raised among the citizens of Baldur’s Gate. As he matured, he began to find his place in Baldurian society, much to the derision of his mother, and their differences in view caused strain on their relationship. No matter how many times Quara extolled the virtues of their grand heritage in the Underdark, Dinoq would not be convinced to see things her way. In 1436 DR, he fell in love with and married a surface drow and follower of Eilistraee by the name of Umrae.

Quara was not impressed by his choice of wife, but, when Umrae died giving birth to a daughter in 1438 DR, she suddenly warmed to the thought of a granddaughter. In that granddaughter, she saw her chance to rekindle her plans to bring House Do’Urden back to prominence. She commanded Dinoq give her the child and leave, so that she could raise it in the correct way without his interference.

She never in the world thought he would say no — but that was exactly what he did. Stricken with grief by the loss of his wife, Dinoq could not bear to part with his daughter, too. Instead, he stole the child away from his mother’s estate in the Upper City, and fled to the countryside outside Baldur’s Gate. In another act of defiance, he named his daughter after the woman who his mother hated most in the world: his aunt, Vierna, the reason his family had been forced to flee the Underdark to begin with.

Vierna was raised on a small farm in a quaint little village outside of Baldur’s Gate. Her father, terrified that someday she would grow into the legendary scion of House Do’Urden that his mother had seen in her, denied Vierna every opportunity to learn about her drow heritage. Instead, she was raised as a half-drow, as the daughter of her father’s second wife (and human) Taviana and instructed her to concentrate on her human connections.

But, like her father before her, Vierna would not be swayed. She inhaled stories about the Underdark and acted them out in the caves and crevices near her home, connecting with her heritage through a land of fantasy. The inhabitants of these cold, dark places became her friends and companions — the mushrooms, the lizards, the spiders — as she waited for the day that she would finally be an adult and could set off and find her own adventures.

Her father watched from the sidelines with mounting fear. As Vierna grew, he began to see echoes of his mother in her features — echoes of his estrangement and loss, of his broken family, and, worst of all, the shadow of the loss of his daughter, rapidly approaching on the horizon. Determined not to lose his daughter the way he had lost his wife and mother, he began to tighten his grip, little by little. To place restrictions, to remove opportunities — but, he told himself, it was all to keep her safe. What he wouldn’t admit to himself was that, more than anything, it was to keep her here.

Even in the face of that adversity, Vierna’s curiosity blossomed. She wanted to see more of the world and discover for herself all the secrets about her family’s past that her father refused to divulge. The morning of her twentieth birthday, she had finally gathered the courage to make a change. She rushed downstairs to tell her parents the news of her departure — and was met with vitriol she had never expected from her mild-mannered, doting father.

It did not take him long to regret everything he said to her then, but it was too late; her confidence, already weakened by years of being gripped too tightly, was shattered. She couldn’t leave; she had been naive to ever think she could. She wouldn’t survive out there, on her own, and so she had to stay — to accept that this was what her life was and always would be.

Vierna retreated from everyone, even — and perhaps especially — her father. In solitude, she perfected her craft, worked on the farm, and tried to forget the fantasy life she had once envisioned for herself. Over the years, the little sparks of interest and excitement and possibility she had once felt dimmed and, eventually, faded entirely.

And so, even after everything he had done to ensure it would never happen, Dinoq found that he had lost his daughter anyway. Stamping down his own fears, he decided to allow her one adventure, just as she’d always dreamed: an unescorted visit into the city, even if only to sell cabbages at the market, to wander the shops for a few hours with some pocket money to spend, and then to return directly home. His mother would never venture into the market district, after all; it would be safe enough, and Vierna would return home with her soul nourished and her trust in him restored.

It would have been a fine plan — were it not for the fact that that was the very day a mind flayer nautiloid flew over Baldur’s Gate.

[the-king-andthe-lionheart]

the whole “sansa is the most relatable woman” thing is so triggering for me because as an afab person with late diagnosed autism sansa reminds me so much of the girls who used to bully me. i relate so strongly with arya because we both struggle with having conservative femininity imposed on us by society and are demonized for not adhering to “traditional” femininity

Hello @daenerysthevampireslayerr !

Yes, I find Sansa to be an alienating character for me as well, and I know a lot of people who feel this way. Sansa is a rich hetero white girl who abides by the status quo and perfectly fits into the highborn feminine box in her world. She is extremely classist and misogynistic, as well as closed-minded, selfish and vain and disloyal to a family that has done nothing to earn that disloyalty from her. As a mixed race bisexual woman who was born illegitimate and raised by a single mother, we weren't exactly rich either. We lived paycheck to paycheck. I also wasn't conventional looking so I myself grew up being bullied.

And while I was a little girl who loved "feminine"-coded things (playing with dolls and barbies, wearing dresses and make-up and jewelry) and romances and dreaming about happily ever after, I still can't relate to her. And that's because I was raised by a gender non-conforming mother who despised "feminine"-coded things and made me feel lesser for liking those things and for being a creative. I literally was the outcast when it came to me, my older sister, and my mother. I also wasn't blind to the world at large and I relate to Arya's anger at society and the injustices of the world, and how trauma can up that anger and make you lash out. I was also open-minded like her.

I just can't relate to Sansa, and people in this fandom proclaiming that Sansa is "the most relatable" has a very narrow view of what's relatable and what isn't, but from what I can tell, a lot of toxic Stansa's seem to be more conservative and has more of a tradfem/tradwife/tradcath or puritanical mentality. So they think every woman should be able to relate to Sansa, and every man in the audience should be in love with her, or some such nonsense. Of course, this is extremely exclusionary, because of how misogynistic and transphobic these people tend to be. Suffice it to say, I will never relate to Sansa, and if other people don't relate to her that should be accepted as okay. We all have preferences and we didn't all grow up in the same way. Why should I like a character who treated her little sister like crap on her shoe, didn't care she was almost killed by her betrothed, continues to think lowly of her even when she thinks Arya is dead, is disloyal to a family that didn't treat her badly at all and loved and constantly praised her, and is completely unrepentant for any of her bad behavior. She never reflects on any of her past behavior because she never thinks anything she does is wrong. She refuses to acknowledge, feel shame/guilt, take responsibility, and try to be better. If she did this in her arc, I would probably feel different about her as a character (Even though I still wouldn't relate to her), but she's forever the most frustrating POV to read for me where her character and it's development is concerned.

A lot of people in fandom cry about how people can dislike/hate Sansa, but go on to love Jaime, and I'm going to reveal why Jaime is one of my favorite characters. It's because even though he's done horrible shit, he acknowledges it, takes responsibility for it, and wants to do better. Does he do better? I think he does, it's not a lot better, but he's making progress, and he'll make better progress when he stops trying to act like Tywin. But it's the fact that he acknowledges all this and wants to be better (whether he achieves it or not) that makes him more likeable to me than Sansa, who has never taken responsibility for anything in her life and who doesn't want to do better. Yes, Sansa hasn't done as much bad as Jaime, but I really don't care. :P

But also, I think character relatability is overblown. Some of my favorite characters aren't relatable to me, or I only share one or two qualities with. I don't need my favorite character to be my copy. I do tend to relate more with Arya than my average favorite characters, but there is still several things about Arya that isn't relatable for me personally, but that doesn't make me love her less. And Sansa doesn't need to be relatable to be liked or loved by fans. It all has to do with preference. But suffice it to say, if it weren't for the toxic Stansa's I would have been neutral about Sansa in the books post AGOT. However, their toxicity makes it impossible. :/

[crescentcampbell]

Wouldn't You Like to Know ch. 5

Five

            Penelope’s heart raced. This was the moment of truth. Would he believe her? She cleared her throat. “Yes---erm----of course.” She took it from him. “But she is on vacation, so it might take a few days for it to get back to you.”

            He shrugged. “That’s okay. I don’t mind waiting a few days.”

            “You want some coffee?”

            Colin shook his head. “I only came to drop that off and I don’t want to interrupt your morning. But listen, my contact information is in there. Call me, yeah? It’s been ages since we hung out and I’ve missed you, Pen. It’s been way too long. You should uh---come around for Sunday dinner. Mom would love that.”

            Penelope frowned. When her dad had stolen from the Bridgerton’s, they’d been banned from Violet Bridgerton’s famous Sunday Dinners. She had all of her children there, along with the Who’s Who of New York. “Oh….um…I don’t know about that. It might be awkward.”

            He reached forward and brushed back one of her loose, red curls. “Pen, we were never mad at you or your sisters. We were mad at your father for betraying your trust. I know that’s still terrible, but I know Mom would say that you were always welcome in our home. Besides, I know you miss her eclairs.”

            She sighed and hated how right he was. Violet Bridgerton’s eclairs were heaven on earth. America’s favorite online homemaker was magic in the kitchen and Penelope had missed her cooking something fierce. Her own mother had never been a baker. She’d always had private chefs to do her cooking. Private chefs that knew better than to serve Penelope sweets if they wanted to keep their paycheck.

            Portia Featherington would never admit that she didn’t like her daughter not being a size two, because that wasn’t the right thing. But Penelope knew it in the  way she treated her which was why they didn’t really talk much. “I do miss your mother’s eclairs. And I would like to see everyone again. Anthony’s getting married, right?”

            Colin nodded. “He finally found someone that isn’t completely scared of him. She’s actually his boss.”

            Penelope raised an eyebrow. “And Anthony likes that?”

            Colin snickered. “I think it’s a kink or something, actually. She’s the only woman besides mother that tells him that he can’t do things. Kate’s very smart and very good at her job. She runs the magazine that father used to own. The Ton.”

            “That’s right,” said Penelope, “it was sort of a high society thing, wasn’t it?”

            Colin nodded. “Actually, she secretly likes that book series your boss writes. The Gossip? She would love to do a feature on her, but she’s been having trouble trying to figure out who she is and she never answers any of her messages or e-mails. She only gets standard responses. Maybe you could convince her?”

            Penelope found herself unable to look Colin in the eyes. She was still half asleep, and was not prepared to have this conversation. The last thing she had expected when she woke up this morning was to see Colin Bridgerton at her home.

            “Um---you know what, I’ll see what I can do. I actually have a lot of work I have to do though. It was great to see you again.”

            Colin smiled. “I’m serious about Sunday, Pen. Don’t be a stranger. I know where you live now.”

            “Right. Right.” She laughed nervously. “Good to see you, Colin.”

            “Good to see you too.”

            Colin hugged her tightly again, and Penelope thought that she might die as he held onto her tightly. She was going to buy herself a thing of Old Spice and sniff it when she was alone. She wanted to always have the scent of him with her. God. How was she an obsessed, teenage weirdo again?

            She wanted to sniff him.

            She wasn’t going to sniff him.

            Fuck.

            “Penelope?” said Colin.

            “Um…yeah?”

            “Did you just sniff me?”

            Penelope coughed and pulled away from him. She wiped her nose as though she had a cold. “No, um. I have a cold.” She coughed again, harder. “You should probably go. Don’t want to get sick.”

            Colin made a face. “Oh. Right. Okay. Well, feel better. I’ll see you Sunday, yeah?”

            She only coughed in response and pushed Colin out the door. “Sunday. Sure. If I’m feeling better---I’ll get the paperwork to Lulu. Good to see you! Bye.” She slammed the door shut and when he was gone, Penelope breathed a sigh of relief.

      ��     She looked down at the yellow envelope in her hand that had the contract for her movie deal. She read through it and stared at the number. $3.5. million. It wouldn’t be given to her all at once, of course, but that was still more money than she had ever made in her entire life and Penelope considered herself pretty well off.  “Oh. My. Fuck.”

            Penelope jumped up and down. She was a millionaire. A fucking millionaire. She was never going to have to ask her mother for help ever again (not that she did that often if she could help it, but still).

            And Colin Bridgerton was back in her life. He had also invited her back into the Bridgerton’s world. She was going to get her old life back. Maybe she could even get Eloise back as a friend. She had missed all of them. They had been part of her life for so long. It would be nice to have them all back.

            As a teenager, she had spent more time there than she had at her own home. If she wasn’t at school, she had been with the Bridgerton’s, getting into some kind of mischief. Losing their friendship had almost been worse than finding out that her father was a criminal. Because everything shined brighter with them. She would make things right this time around.

[naviscollectoroc]

Since Wattpad makes people make accounts b4 reading stories, I'll just post the lore here :3 TW: Child abuse, and implied suicide

☆Argo Navis (he/she) Was born under Xyxion’s rule as a high ranking Star-child, originally a bodyguard/protector of Xyxion’s, she climbed the ranks and was appointed to be a curator of Mars, where he (Argo) met Elerin, being atleast 10 years older than Elerin in star-child standards, Argo was kinda put in charge of keeping him in line (Argo let so much abusive shit happen to Elerin to preserve her place in the hierarchy it's not even funny) along with working closely with Mars, second in command to Xyxion. Argo was a vicious fighter, it was no wonder why he worked so closely with the goddess of war herself. Argo even had her own small militia of lower ranking star children and Titan Trappers given to him by Elerin. Argo and his militia would conquer most of the solar system, along with stomping out the Alien race that Lilan worked with all those years ago. As a sort of thank you (and also a test) to Argo for their service and loyalty, Xyxion using his magic, in conjunction with the Nebulous clouds and stars, creates Vela… giving Vela to Argo was one of the worst decisions Xyxion could have ever made…

☆Vela (it/zey) was given to Argo as not only a thank you gift (since Argo had been wishing for a child for a long time) but also, as a test, a test to see if Argo could raise the perfect soldier/scout. Argo took her job a bit too seriously, basically forcing zem to commit atrocities. Vela was less of Argo’s child and more of her neophyte, indoctrinating and coercing it into believing that what Vela and Argo were doing was a good thing, all before Vela turned 6 and Pyxis was taken in by Argo. Vela had actually met Elerin when they were young, right before Elerin was sealed away, when he was becoming senile and sloppy, eager to hold onto his power and succumbing to the way his parents raised him. Vela didn’t like Elerin at all and would tell semi- tall tales about Elerin’s crazy ways to Pyxis after Elerin was sealed away.

☆Pyxis (they/them) was born from a supernova, long ago created by Xyxion when he was first creating the Universe and Planet Nebulous. Seeing the explosion from a few thousand lightyears, Argo searched for anything she could salvage the power from the supernova and instead found Pyxis, Argo hid the fact that Pyxis wasn’t born in Planet Nebulous, convincing the collector society that they were a protostar. When Argo brought Pyx home, Vela had treated them with a jealous kind of care. Vel was semi- neglected after Pyxis came into the picture, and Vela thought that if zey took care of Pyx, Argo would be proud of it and pay attention to zem more. It kinda worked but not in anyone’s favor, sure Argo was paying attention to both Pyxis and Vela equally, which was basically nothing apart from conditioning the both of them to be a part of her militia, what Argo didn’t look out for was the strong bond that would form between the two siblings that would eventually be her downfall. ☆As Pyxis grew up, it seemed like they were taking care of Argo more than Argo was taking care of them, which was true, before that job was for Vela, but when Vela was sent to the front lines officially as a scout, Pyxis became the caretaker of the Navis household while Capturer and Vela were out for the many hunts and archiving of species, as well as any wars against Planet Nebulous’ enemies. Even when Pyxis was attending collector elementary, they couldn’t rely on anyone to take care of them except themself. Vela tried its best to take better care of zeir sibling and be there for Pyx, even if it meant going against Argo and losing his graces. Vela hated its job more than anything, hated being a scout, hated being Argo’s child. Soon, Vela would be neglecting zeir duties, using illusion magic and concealment stones to befriend the enemies, which is how Vela stumbled into the demon realm where it would soon take Pyxis to get away from Argo permanently.

☆The reason WHY Vela's first pick of refuge was the demon realm was because zey had snuck out into the demon realm a bunch before fully parting with Argo. to Vel the demon Realm was chaotic, and that's what it needed, the demon realm was a lot different to planet Nebulous and that drew a teenage Vela IN. So it snuck off to the demon realm a bunch, for a plethora of excuses that wasn't just to hangout it took a while for Vel to figure out that zeir homelife wasn't good, and that was BECAUSE of the teens it met in the demon realm Zey made a lot of friends (maybe a crush, partner perhaps) and those friends are the first people Vel comes to when zey fully run away with pyx. Pyxis was miserable when Vela wasn’t around, when they had to put up with their mother berating them and forcing them to go into Argo’s wars putting Pyx in danger all the time, Pyxis wanted to escape it all… And they tried… But they were saved by someone who was in a similar boat to them. Elerin.

☆Elerin was let out of his prison after WAD, and had enough time to bond with Pyxis a little, sharing experiences with shitty moms, general bad experiences, and things that they liked as well. Pyxis met a totally different person than what they had heard from Vela, Elerin was still a bad man who was very irresponsible, but he wasn’t the genocidal maniac that Pyxis thought he was, Pyxis also learned about the underground titan society that Elerin and his family were working with. Soon Pyxis was able to see through Elerin’s experiences that their relationship with their mom was the furthest thing from healthy, and that although Vela wasn’t much better, it had the best of intentions and that Pyx should follow Vela and see where zey go when it abandons zeir scout duties. Pyxis never got to go spy mode and sneakily follow Vela to the Demon Realm before Vela split with Argo and took Pyxis with them. For a long time, Vela had been going to the Demon Realm and studying everything it could about this place, meet people, and get two concealment stones for zem and Pyx.

☆Pyxis and Vela are taking refuge in the demon realm, using Illusion magic to conceal the fact that they're both collectors, Pyxis going to Hexside, learning witch magic, and meeting Calypso (the collector) and King and Vela doing odd jobs to keep the two of them a float. After about a year of being in the Demon Realm, Pyxis meets a familiar face, Elerin, he couldn’t recognize them because they looked like a witch, but Pyxi walked straight up to him and began talking like they hadn’t been apart for about 3 year, Pyx met El’s family, and got more info about the underground titan society, they’d go on to tell Vela, Calypso, and King about it. Vela wrote a letter to meet and negotiate with the titan society about being allies, which succeeded.

☆Pyxis started to get antsy in being allied with the titan society and feeling like they werent doing enough since they were at school and being given jobs that were for their age level, Pyx was always made to go above and beyond, so being out of that zone made them anxious and feeling worthless, which prompted them to make a very irrational decision. ☆The final Titan vs. Collector war had begun, Vela wasn’t going to fight anymore so zey were responsible for making weapons and armor for the war, Pyxis was supposed to stay by Vela’s side, but with all of these feelings brewing up inside them, feeling worthless for not battling on the frontlines with their friends, Pyxis snuck by their sibling, suited up, and went to war, using the witch magic they had learned along with their collector magic. While on the battlefield, Pyx got to meet their mom again, brimming with rage they tried to fight her head on, of course Pyx was never ready for battle and conflict, and they got the shit kicked out of them by their mom and his allies and almost died sacrificing themself for others, it was a suicide mission. One of the titans brought Pyx to Vela after they (pyx) had been healed but still unconscious, Pyxis wasn’t allowed on the battlefield anymore and had a kind of stern talking to about why they did the things they did. Soon the war was over and Pyxis and Vela got to be with their friends and allies again, helping the titans adjust to the new world.

☆Argo was sealed and her tablet was broken. Pyxis kept the broken pieces in secret until they were 17 and they threw the pieces into the boiling sea. Fully letting go of their abuser

☆Vela stays in the Demon Realm while Pyxis comes and goes. Pyx followed Elerin and Family to the human realm, Where Pyxis would soon meet their bandmates in Serbia where Pyxis lives currently. Pyxis has become a successful Human and Demon Realm music artist, singing in English and Serbian. Mixing Nebulous and Demon Realm music elements into the music they make by themself. They’re the back up singer and bassist for the band sleaZe, a Serbian indie variety band. Pyxis tours in the Human and Demon Realm, using a concealment stone in the human Realm. Pyxis and Vela see each other almost all the time, Pyxis has more difficulty due to their busy schedule.

[beautiful-basque-country]

From “GUIDEPOST OBSERVER: Racism in Spain” by E.N. Bouffard

First published in GUIDEPOST - 31 July 1981

“Racism . . . hatred or intolerance of another race. . .” Random House College Dictionary

In 1978, there were over 158,000 “extranjeros”  residing in Spain representing 61 of the world’s nations from 5 continents. Spain never has had a “racial” problem in the sense that the U.S. has with its blacks and “chicanos;” or the British with their minorities from Africa, Pakistan and India. In fact, Spaniards are most fond of saying that they harbor no racial prejudice whatsoever.

What the Spaniards say is true in one sense. Certainly, no one from the foreign community seems to be complaining about racial discrimination — personal or institutional. (...) In another sense what the Spaniards say is not the whole truth in at least two significant cases. The first involves the Basques; the second the gypsies. <- don't expect nothing more to be said about how Spaniards are racist towards Roma people, it's a subject the author decided didn't need a development.

No “Spaniard” will ever raise a racial issue in discussing the Basques. On the contrary, almost every Basque — some 2 million of them — will agree with the oft and publicly repeated proposition of Herri Batasuna — “No somos españoles!” [We are not Spaniards]

(...) There is only one conclusion to draw from this kind of statement. Whoever makes it does not know the history of the Basques on the Iberian Peninsula, desires to forget it or wants to alter the history books. The Basques have been on this Peninsula so long they do not even know where they came from or how their language originated. Their origins go back beyond recorded history.

Just as one can not understand the ideological roots of communism without reading Marx and Lenin, one can not understand Basque racism without being familiar with Sabino Arana Goiri. All this nonsense of Basque racism which most Basques believe today began with this “ultra” Basque nationalist. In other words, Basque racism is less than 100 years of the thousands the Basques have been on the Peninsula intermarrying with the rest of the population.

In any event, to learn more about Sabino, I had to be satisfied with books written about him by his followers. One of these was a book by ORTZI-a pen name for Herri Batasuna congressman, Francisco Letamendia. The title: “Historia to Euskadi: el nacionalismo vasco y ETA.” Ortzi wrote: “Of the components of (Basque) nationalism which include race, language, character and customs and historic personality, for Sabino the decisive one was race.” He continues: “The racism of Sabino is an ingredient that did not exist in the foral tradition, and it constitutes without any doubt, the most repulsive and disagreeable aspect of his doctrine. “ At least, Ortzi is honest!

<- the fact that Ortzi wrote his opinions on Basque nationalism around A WHOLE CENTURY after Arana's racist views may have something to do with, I don't know, Basque society leaving old ideas behind. Also, notice how the author talks about Sabino (and not by his surname) as if he wasn't worthy of respect. Talking about hate.

What Ortzi states is true. Unfortunately, Sabino’s racial heritage remains. There are other relevant quotes from Sabino:

“Race is the essential element of the nation;  without the Basque race, there would be no Basque country.” <- it was the 19th century when Arana wrote this. Race equaled people. Spanish nationalists were talking about the Spanish race at the same time, but Bouffard chooses silence.

“Unlike the Spanish race which is a mixture of races, the Basque race is original. The Basque race, original and unclassifiable among the races of the world, is not a mixture like the Spanish race . . . “

“A Basque is one who possesses a Basque surname.”

“The principal enemy of the Basque race is the “ Maketa” invasion.” (Maketa is part of Sabino’s inventive language and means Spanish.) <- no, it means from outside EH, a foreigner is a maketo by Arana's terms.

“This invasion corrupted the venerable traditions and customs of the country . . . If the Basque country was independent, this invasion would not be harmful. The Spaniards would be received as foreigners. Their numbers would be limited. Interracial marriages would be prohibited . . .”

“The Basque language . . . is the most ancient and perfect of known languages. But its importance remains subordinated to race . . . The defensive value of the language is an instrument to preserve the Basque country from the Spanish invasion . . . for us it would be ruinous if the Spaniards who reside in our territory speak Euskera.”

Sabino hated — and that is the only word one can use — the “Spaniards.” He once wrote: “Spain is the most degenerated and wretched nation of Europe; its race the most vile and despicable.” On every occasion available, Sabino insulted them.

The Basque-Spanish problem? The root of that problem comes from the seed planted by Sabino Arana. His contemporary followers infected their children with the disease. The subsequent generation in turn, their children. By the time the Spanish Civil War was over (the Basques were losers) coupled with 36 years of Franco’s cultural repression every Basque family had been thoroughly indoctrinated in Basque racism and hatred of the “Spaniards.” <- I'm currently at a loss for words by this whole paragraph. From stating that ETA has something to do with Arana and insinuating the Spanish Civil War was against Basque people, this has it all.

For some reason, Basque bitterness towards the “Spaniards” has not been reciprocated. Until ETA went “haywire,” the Spaniard would talk about the Basque with “cariño” [endearment] and respect. Many still do but with a heavy heart. <- the audacity of this bitch!!!!!! Spain has been oppressing us for centuries but hey, they love us fondly.

(...) The Spanish-Basque problem with its roots in Basque racism and mistrust will be around for generations to come. Unfortunately, the average Spaniard knows next to nothing about Sabino Arana and his pernicious doctrines. Therefore, they will never understand why the Basques continue to state: “no somos españoles!”. <- such an unrequited love the one of Spaniards for Basques...

That what such a f*cking ride. Btw, Guidepost is the oldest publication in English of Spain, and it's edited by the American Club of Madrid. So this was written by an American living in Spain, I presume.

That was in 1981. And in all this article that oozes hatred and misinformation towards us, the author couldn't even feel their bias. The naiveté of the Spaniards not knowing why the Basques hate them so much in contrast with Basque people being evil, infected by hateful, +100-year-old racist ideas is something that would make anyone cry.

[caliawen]

Luinheneb

_Names_

Quenya

Ataressë = Luinëhen [Luinë : blue + Hen : eye] >Blue eye

Amilissë = Lindelwen [Lind(a) : beautiful (of sound), sweet, melodious, soft, gentle, light, kind, fair + elwen : heart] >Sweet/soft/gentle heart

Epessë = Lissalassë [Liss(ë) : sweet + Alassë : happiness] >Sweet happiness

Cilmessë = Lindelwen

(Those are translations from his Sindarin names, as he is Sindarin and was not named in Quenya)

***

Sindarin

Ataressë = Luinheneb [Luin : blue + Heneb : eyed] >Blue eyed

Amilissë = Faelhûn [Fael : fair minded, just, generous + Hûn : heart] >Just/generous heart

Epessë = Laichanadh [Laich : sweet + (m)anadh : fortune] >Sweet fortune

Cilmessë = Luinheneb

***

Nicknames = Luin, Luinë

_Family, birth & age_

Family

He is the only son of Urraheren (his father) and Mellan (his mother)

Urraheren means Bad Fortune and Mellan means Dear/Beloved Gift

Birth

He is born on Arda, Doriath, 386 of the First Age

Age

He looks to be 22-23, being ~6700 years of age

_Appearence_

Hair = ginger, extremely long (stops at his calves)

Eyes = deep blue

Height = 6’5 (195,6 cm)

Race/Ethnicity = Sindar

Mouth = Flamingo (FDA4BA)

Skin = Ivory, with freckles on his nose, cheeks and shoulders

Clothes (in Doriath) = colourful tunics, sometimes dresses, opened shirts that show off his shoulders and back

Clothes (in Greenwood) = healer’s tunics, healer clothes, dress every few millenia

Special features/accessories = multiple earrings and rings, nipple piercings and a small tattoo on his shoulder*

* The tattoo is his mother’s favourite flower; Niphredil

_Love Life_

Used to have a crush on = Thranduil

Is in love with/loyal to = Khondōyāl

Children = no biological children. However, he helped raise Legolas and treats him as his son

_Likes, dislikes, fears_

Likes

His mother, his lover, relaxing, wine, complaining, being a healer (his job), having his hair braided, goofing around

Dislikes

Feeling useless, racist remarks, disorder, having a panic attack/being stressed

_Hobbies/Passions_

Reading = in his free time, Luin loves to read, whether it be aloud to someone else or silently to himself. He also likes to read outside when he can, letting the sun caress his skin and listening to the relaxing sounds of birds, trees’ leaves rustling in the wind and distant voices of people talking. He also really likes to read to Khondōyāl from his lap while his lover braids his hair.

Healing = his love for loving came from seeing Melian save people’s lives and he knew at that moment he wanted to do the same thing. This love only grew with time, as it made Luin feel independent and important to society. It also became easier, for he was given Estë’s Mána [Estë’s Blessing] from Mairafinwë; a necklace with healing powers if used correctly

_Fun Fact_

Luin is an extremely good fighter but hates to fight. He is excellent with a sword and is gracious when using one. However, after his first love, who showed him how to use a sword, turned out to be abusive, he let go of his desire to fight. To spite that ellon, Luin only ever used a sword if absolutely necessary after breaking up with his ex. He slowly started to use it again when Khondōyāl assured him that just because it was someone who Luin resented who showed him how to use a sword, it didn’t mean he couldn’t use that knowledge for greater good.

@theladyvanya

[xxacidicgoddessxx]

Redesigning creepypasta characters

Jeff the Killer

Backstory version based on Banningk1979

BASIC INFORMATION

Name: Jeffery Woods

Nickname(s): Jeff

Age: 19

Alignment: Chaotic Evil

Height: 5’7 (170 cm)

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Painfully straight

Species: Human

Status: Alive

Race: Caucasian

APPEARANCE

Skin color: Pale, white

Eye color: Blind left eye, green right eye

Hair color: Black

Hair style: Short, greasy

Facial hair: -

Facial markings: Burn marks on the left side of his face (of which will gradually heal)

Piercings: -

Outfit(s): Black jacket, blue jeans, white shoes

Accessories: -

BACKGROUND

Jeffery Woods grew up in a family that only cared about appearances. He and his brother Liu were brands that gave name to their family

Their parents only cared about getting on other people's good sides, but when it came down to it - they were snakes. If a coworker's son was taking boxing lessons, Jeff had to take boxing lessons to prove their family was superior

In the grand scheme of things, that's all Jeff and Liu were — show-dogs. They were strangers in their own home when they weren't "contributing" to something

Liu was down right attention starved and quickly became a people pleaser, but at the core of it all he was just as frustrated as Jeff

Both of them knew when to be civil when necessary out of convenience, neither of them liked fighting

At least at the time, that is

Jeff's frustration coiled around him, tainting him, twisting at his insides. At times, fighting seemed like the only way he could communicate in a world where everyone lies to get what they want

Eventually, fighting became a source of pleasure. He found it cathartic and loved the rush it gave him to be in control. When it's only you left to protect yourself, fighting is all you can do

Some people say that when someone goes insane they snap - but that's not the case

From day one society ingrains the value of fighting into people, and when people listen, they love to look the other way

Jeff's not a monster, he's a fighter

That's what society made him to be, and if they can't take the heat, well, who's to say anyone's surprised

It was when Jeff realized nothing was going to give that he took it into his own hands. He got rid of the threat his parents posed, got rid of that damn corrupted cop and that smarmy group of kids

He can't believe he actually felt sorry for them at first. There's no use in sympathizing with the weak if you want to survive

He abandoned his old life, abandoned Liu, and left

PERSONALITY

Jeff has a big mouth on him

Don't get me wrong, as I said: he was raised to be civil when it counted, and he knows how to recognize when the odds are stacked against him, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have a short fuse

Back when he had Liu, he had a reason to hold back. Now that he's got no one to reprimand him for his actions, there's really no reason why he can't say or do whatever the fuck he wants

He doesn't like change and hates relying on other people. People can be unpredictable, and when it comes down to it, the only person you can trust is yourself

He quickly learned to be observant, learned to read other people's body language. In a house full of egg shells, one has to learn

He might say he's not a sadistic person, but he 100% is

He was quick to generalize pleasure with frustration, which is in part why he came to love fighting

Frustration was a promise tied to the anticipation of a fight, and fighting meant that he could convey what he felt

He finds a twisted sense of pleasure when people beg. His favorite part of killing is when people beg, it shows that they know where their place is – which just so happens to be beneath him

He hates this part of himself mainly because it reminds him of his parents, but it's the one thing he'd agree with them on

All in all, proving that people are beneath him is another one of his defense mechanisms in proving he is still in control

He just doesn't see the point in trying to persuade someone into seeing him as who he really is

People love to look down on anyone as if they're greater

With that said: it's best to avoid showing fear towards him – it will give him incentive to hurt you

Oh, and never let him see you act weak

Jeff is a manipulator through and through

What he does isn't because he wants to, it's always going to be someone else's fault for making him do the things he does

… Which means he’s also highly hypocritical

BEHAVIOR

Normal mood: Calm, “civil”, has an undeniable edge, perceptive

Temper: Quick to become frustrated, the poster child of “Gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss”

Discipline: Will try to be diplomatic, but having grown up where fighting was the only means of communicating, he becomes tense and ready for a fight whenever his views are put into question

Strengths: Hand-to-hand combat, enhanced durability

Weaknesses: Blind in one eye

Drives: Seeks to “save the weak” from a cruel society

Fears: Commitment

Likes: Killing, looking at the stars

Dislikes: Not being in control of a situation, cops

Triggers: Anyone who looks like Liu

Inspirations: His own convictions

Habits: Scratching the scarred side of his face

OTHER

Family: Shelia and Matt Woods (parents - deceased), Liu (brother - alive)

Friends: -

Enemies: -

Love interests: -

Hobbies: -

Talents: Whittling

Occupation: Killing

Weapon: Knives

Powers: -

Kill style: Stabbing, strangulation

[carmies]

vinnie hacker.     he/him.     cismale.      ›   spotted   at   the   met   steps   ,   carmen   bellucci   ,   most   likely   listening   to   him  jong  -  un   by   robb   bank$  with   their   airpods   pro   .   the   twenty1   year   old   gained   quite   a   reputation   ,   known   to   be   -combative   yet   +altruistic   to   anyone   who   knows   them   .   you'll   easily   spot   them   when   you   hear   about   driving   too   fast   on   an   empty   street   ,   the   smell   of   vanilla   cigarettes   stuck   to   clothes   ,   a   laugh   in   the   face   of   authority   ,  and   lies   that   sound   genuine   ,   followed   by   the   most   wanted   by   azzaro   .   latest   nepoupdates   article   talks   about   how   he's   apart   of   some   illegal   street   racing   and   some   underground   fight   club   society   (   true   )   ,   but   i   guess   any   reputation   is   good   reputation   .

*  ⸻  𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐵𝐴𝑆𝐼𝐶𝑆  !

𝙵𝚄𝙻𝙻  𝙽𝙰𝙼𝙴   :   carmen   ari   bellucci   .

𝙽𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙽𝙰𝙼𝙴(𝚂)   :   goes   by   ari   or   carmen   ,   carmy   (   if   you’re   close   )

𝙰𝙶𝙴   :   twenty   -   one   years   old   .

𝙳𝙰𝚃𝙴  𝙾𝙵  𝙱𝙸𝚁𝚃𝙷   :   november   16th

𝚉𝙾𝙳𝙸𝙰𝙲  𝚂𝙸𝙶𝙽   :   scorpio

𝙿𝙻𝙰𝙲𝙴  𝙾𝙵  𝙱𝙸𝚁𝚃𝙷   :   noho   ,   manhattan   ,   new   york

𝙶𝙴𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚁   :   cismale

𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙽𝙾𝚄𝙽𝚂   :   he  /  him

𝚂𝙴𝚇𝚄𝙰𝙻  𝙾𝚁𝙸𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽   :   pansexual

𝙾𝙲𝙲𝚄𝙿𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽   :   former   boxer   /   mma   fighter  ,  currently   nepobaby

*  ⸻  𝐵𝐼𝑂𝐺𝑅𝐴𝑃𝐻𝑌  !

TW  :  mention  of  intermittent  explosive  disorder. the  bellucci  name  is  usually  shrouded  in  infamy  —  a  family  that  dates  back  to  old  money  and  crime  affiliation  —  an  allegation  at  most  that  was  started  by  other  families  that  had  it  out  for  the  bellucci  lineage.  lorenzo  bellucci  ,  a  renowned  pianist  turned  record  executive  &  serena  bellucci  ,  formerly  known  as  serena  wolfe  ,  a  supermodel  born  into  new  money  —  the  duo  were  known  for  their  love  as  well  as  their  credentials.  their  love  would  come  to  conceive  carmen  “  carmy  ”  bellucci.

growing up, music was pushed upon carmen at a young age by his father. the man thought the musically inclined gene would automatically be inside his son, but carmen never showed promise. this was the boy’s first act of defiance — gifted just like his father with an ear for music and the skills to match, but a repulsion inside him that never wanted to be like his father or live in his shadow.

his mother lightly introduced him to the modeling world at a young age, but carmen was insightful enough to know that life would be hell and the competition wasn’t worth sucking down lemon cotton or growing to hate his body.

both parents gave up trying to mold carmen into what they wanted him to be and instead let the boy decide — meanwhile growing inside him was an anger they speculated came from serena’s side of the family.

explosive episodes that gradually ramped from tantrums and tirades that were let out on schoolmates turned into physical fights and property damage as carmen got older. the only outlet they saw for the younger bellucci was anything that could be put in the ring — signing carmen up for boxing and gymnastics at the age of eight.

his family would finally take carmen to a professional when he was nine that would diagnose him with intermittent explosive disorder. while his father didn’t take the diagnoses seriously, carmen’s mother would immediately seek treatment for her son and soon a slew of appeasement from the parents would come to avoid confrontation.

they never accounted for what fame and practically raising carmen to be a fighting child prodigy would do — the public eye on the youth with their criticisms and allegations against his family history created a ticking time bomb in carmen.

family life was no better, watching his father and mother mistreat staff only added fuel to the fire. born into a life that he felt he didn’t belong in — unable to relate to people that were suppose to be his peers and overwhelmed by unwanted expectations placed upon him.

rebellion came in the form of getting into fights with rich alumni / friends of his and sneaking off into the night only to sneak back in the morning. the only ones that caught him were the staff, but they were hush about it and usually covered for carmen. he found more interest in intellectuals that were surprised by his interest in them, craving deep connections with people that were as alien to his lifestyle as carmen felt in his lifestyle.

unlike his parents and the persona the media placed upon him, carmen does give back to communities anonymously and volunteers to help wherever/whenever he can. a softness that most don’t get to see unless they are close with the fighter or spot him.

MORE TO BE ADDED ABOUT HIS SECRET AND YADDA YADDA. BRAINROT.

*  ⸻  𝐶𝑂𝑁𝑁𝐸𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁𝑆  !

it’d be very epic to receive some spicy connections.