#would they evade taxes together

[sort-of-a-hero-that-way]

I NEED THEM IN THE SAME ROOM TOGETHER

[fazcinatingblog]

Damnnn embarrassing for Chloe Molloy's accountant that they give her a $20k tax bill lmao do better for our queen, assholes

[h4m1lt0ns]

LOVE HATE — LH°44

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ pairing ︴lewis hamilton x monégasque!ferrari!y/n

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ genre ︴social media au

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ summary ﹔another day, another bickering contest between everyone’s favourite rivals who we all want to end up together.

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ face claim ﹔ dina denoire.

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ warnings ﹕cussing, fluff, supernatural references and spoilers.

y/n

♡ liked by lewishamilton, charles_leclerc, 3,201,954 others.

y/n when you forget that monaco is the size of a needle’s eye so u keep running into the mf u hate ﹫lewishamilton

593,203 comments.

lewishamilton 🙄🙄🙄

username these two are unreal 😭

username ﹫mercedesamgf1 ﹫scuderiaferrari THEY’RE FIGHTING AGAIN

lewishamilton you literally could’ve vacationed anywhere else

➜ y/n I LIVE HERE????

➜ lewishamilton so what i’m a registered citizen too 🤨

➜ y/n i’m literally monégasque the rest of you are just tax evaders 🙄🙏

➜ username JDJAIQOKWJDJW

➜ username LMFAOOOOOOO

➜ username CALLED OUT THE WHOLE GRID

username can u two just kiss already like ???

username y/n and her emotional support rival 💔💔💔💔💔💔

username funny they act like this we all know you two can’t live without each other 🥱

username when the enemies to lovers is taking too long in the enemies stage 😐

lewishamilton also would appreciate it if you stop coming to my favourite coffee shop, that’s MY spot 🙏🏾

➜ y/n THE OWNER LITERALLY NAMED THE PLACE AFTER ME ????

➜ lewishamilton damn 🙏🏾 too bad it’s MY favourite place

➜ y/nscoffeehouse it’s okay sir Lewis, we like mercedes too!

➜ y/n blocking all of you

➜ username ALWOSJWA

➜ username they literally can’t escape each other 😭

➜ username oh to have a coffee shop in monaco be name after me

username mom and dad are fighting again what’s new

username how is lewis gonna name y/n as his arch nemesis yet she’s the only person he follows like ???

➜ username no bc make it make sense

charles_leclerc can you two act normal for once

➜ y/n NO HE’S SO ANNOYING

➜ lewishamilton oH SO IM THE ANNOYING ONE NOW

➜ y/n you’ve always been 🙏❤️

➜ lewishamilton oh fuck off

➜ y/n you first 🙄

username they’re in love your honour ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️😍😍😍😍😍🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

username how to fast forward to the part where they’re in love with kids and a farmhouse in the middle of nowhere???

lewishamilton by the way your hair looked ugly

➜ y/n ﹫sebastianvettel LOOK AT THIS

➜ sebastianvettel ﹫lewishamilton I taught you better

➜ lewishamilton ﹫y/n OH SO WERE SNITCHING NOW?

➜ y/n stfu u started

username my parents 😍😍😍😍😍

username lewis is just like me 🤞🏽 however i can admit that i’m in love w y/n

scuderiaferrari this shouldn’t be this entertaining 🍿

➜ mercedesamgf1 real

➜ username EVEN THE ADMINS GAVE UP LOL

lewishamilton

♡ liked by y/n, sebastianvettel and 3,203,103 others.

lewishamilton she actually isn’t that bad when she’s quiet ﹫y/n

933,120 comments.

y/n i told you i’m a nice person you just need to shut the fuck up to find out 😍

➜ lewishamilton there is NO point in being nice to you

➜ sebastianvettel stop you two

➜ sebastianvettel do I need to make you hold hands like little kids again?

➜ y/n no seb :(

➜ lewishamilton …no sry seb

username SEB MADE THEM HOLD HANDS 😭

➜ username expediting the enemies to lovers process for everyone’s mental health i see 😁

➜ username HALLELUJAH WERE GETTING SOMEWHERE

➜ username 💃🏽💃🏽💃🏽💃🏽💃🏽

georgerussell63 they can get along ????

➜ landonorris shocked me too ngl

username now that they’re civil someone quickly make them sign some marriage papers

y/n never going hiking with you again i almost died

➜ lewishamilton lmao bc u scraped ur knee on a rock?

➜ y/n an eagle snached ur hat and almost took the last five hairs you have but do you see me talking abt that??

➜ lewishamilton sorry miss y/l/n 🧎🏾

➜ y/n good to know.

➜ username LAST FIVE HAIRS Y/N IM SCREAMINGGGGGGG

➜ username this interaction is everything.

username CAN THEY KISS ALREADY OMFG

y/n wait where did you go ﹫lewishamilton

➜ lewishamilton in the living room !!!!!

➜ username that’s a slutty amount of exclamation marks sir 🤨

username THEY’RE IN THE SAME HOUSE???

➜ username THEY’RE IN LEWIS’ HOUSE???

➜ username FORCED PROXIMITY ENEMIES TO LOVERS????

username if they don’t end up together i don’t know what i’ll do with myself

username ﹫sebastianvettel set them up or do something bro c’mon

➜ sebastianvettel tried that years ago

➜ username HUUUUUHHHH??!?!,!?!???

➜ username “TRIED” 😭😭😭😭

➜ username BABE WAKE UP NEW LEWY/N LORE DROPPED

➜ username OMFGGGGGG

lewishamilton ﹫y/n where the fuck did you go

➜ y/n u have a nice ass balcony

➜ lewishamilton get ur ass inside bc roscoe is looking for u

➜ y/n 🤨

➜ lewishamilton please come inside, your son looks sad without you because he misses you 🖤

➜ username ROSCOE IS LOOKING FOR HER 😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔💔

username “your son” PLS OMFG

username god JUST ADMIT YOURE INLOVE WITH EACH OTHER

username it’s been years i can’t take this torture any longer

username omw to monaco to make these two fall in love

username can you AT LEAST fall in love for roscoe??? like my boy is a child of divorce

username “your son looks sad without you” MY HEART JUST GREW THREE TIMES ITS SIZE 🥲🥲🥲🥲

username roscoe hamilton y/l/n be the matchmaker we need 🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽

username SEB TRIED TO SET THEM UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

➜ fernandoalo_oficial trust me we all have

➜ username HELLO?????

➜ username THIS IS SO ???????

➜ username OH MY GOD. ALL OF YOU??

➜ fernandoalo_oficial me, seb, jenson, toto, mattia, pretty much the whole grid

➜ username YOURE JOE KING.

➜ username WOAHHHHHH THERE NANDO

➜ username try again bestie nando 🙏🏽❤️

➜ username one more try won’t hurt king alonso

y/n

♡ liked by carlossainz55, sebastianvettel and 4,103,855 others.

y/n learning to tolerate ﹫lewishamilton (who is is decent enough) bc roscoe is the love of my life 🤍🐾

1,294,685 comments.

lewishamilton you finally admit it 😐

➜ y/n i tolerate u for roscoe bc that’s my baby

username he’s actually great y/n 😁 ‼️he’s a (eight) seven time wdc, has great fashion, great music taste, his dog considers you his mom, has probably been in love with you for the past five to seven years, and he’s really fucking hot !! give him a chance 😁🙏🏽❤️

➜ username and he’s a really good person!!

➜ username + cute english accent as well

➜ username his hair is rly nice too!!!!!!

➜ username he also makes music sometimes

➜ username i see we’re all desperate to get these two idiots together

➜ username yes 😔

username ENEMIES TO LOVERS IS ENEMIES TO LOVERSING FINALLY THE SLOW BURN IS OVER 🥹

lewishamilton i’m a joy to be around wdym decent enough

➜ y/n you think you’re a joy ???

➜ lewishamilton i think i’m adorable 😁🙏🏾

➜ y/n wait is that a dean winchester reference

➜ lewishamilton …no.

➜ y/n yOU WATCHED SUPERNATURAL

➜ lewishamilton what was i supposed to do?? you wouldn’t shut up abt it 🙄

username HE 😭 WATCHED 😭 SUPERNATURAL 😭 FOR 😭 HER 😭

username they’re MY old married couple thank you 🤨❤️

username lewis watched supernatural bc y/n wouldn’t stop talking abt it 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

➜ username and he’s making references 😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔

➜ username MY PARENTS YOUR HONOUR

username what these bitches have is what i truly want in life, dear god.

username 🕯 manifesting they magically get together 🕯

username they just won’t admit they’re in love huh 😕

username one of you better make a move or i will

scuderiaferrari this has been the most interesting thing to happen this season i want to stay here forever

➜ username LMFAO ADMIN IS SO REAL

➜ username ITS YOUR TURN TO SET THEM UP

➜ username YEAH IT MIGHT WORK

➜ mercedesamgf1 it’s been years we all gave up

➜ username there’s really no hope huh

➜ username shhhhh my delulu says there is

➜ username ur delulu is deluluing

susie_wolff these two 🙄

➜ username even susie has had enough

➜ username mother susie please do something

➜ susie_wolff you think I haven’t tried?

➜ username I’VE OFFICIALLY LOST HOPE.

➜ username OH MY GOD 😭

➜ username the fact that the entire grid has tried to set them up ????

lewishamilton your son misses you btw.

➜ y/n i miss him too.

➜ username roscoe and i are children of divorce.

➜ username we all are.

lewishamilton

♡ liked by y/n, sebastianvettel and 7,294,103 others.

lewishamilton she’s the jo harvelle to my dean winchester

tagged: y/n

1,699,505 comments.

y/n three years of pretending i hate u is enough of a soft launch right ???

➜ username FYM THREE YEARS???

➜ username THREE WHAT NOW.

username LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, WE GOT THEM 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

pierregasly FINALLY.

mickschumacher THANK GOD I DONT THINK I COULD’VE BEEN ABLE TO SHUT UP FOR ANY LONGER

charles_leclerc the amount of time i’ve been threatened by y/n to stay quite requires compensation 😭 i’m so happy the secret’s finally out

➜ username LMFAOOOOOOO PLS

username HARDEST LAUNCH OF THE CENTURY??????????

username THE I LOVE MY GF MEME???? LEWIS WHO HAVE YOU BECOME.

username the fact that i’m surprised is almost offensive 😀

fernandoalo_oficial about fucking time

landonorris took long enough oh my god

➜ sebastianvettel all you did was watch them try to hide their relationship, be grateful you didn’t witness them deny being in love with each other between 2016 and 2019

➜ landonorris IT WAS WORSE THAN THIS?

➜ sebastianvettel oh boy, you haven’t seen anything

➜ username seb is sick and tired 😭

➜ username no bc 2016-2019 was something else frfr 😭😭😭

username YESSSSSSS OMFG FINALLY

username THREE YEARS??? THEY’VE BEEN TOGETHER FOR THREE YEARS????

➜ username HOW WERE THEY ABLE TO HIDE FOR THREE YEARS

➜ username HOW DID THEY EVEN PULL THIS OFF

username i can FINALLY sleep peacefully at night

lewishamilton wait so is roscoe technically jack or ben??

➜ y/n jack for sure, ben is barely relevant and roscoe is too famous and loved for that

➜ username “ben is barely relevant” i screamed.

➜ username they sold me. i’m watching supernatural tonight.

➜ username NO BC SAME.

username WE ARE NO LONGER CHILDREN OF DIVORCE ‼️‼️‼️😁😁😁😁🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽

danielricciardo i would’ve lost my mind trying to remain quite for longer

➜ carlossainz55 I think we can all agree on this one (I too, have been threatened by y/n 😐)

jensonbutton this deserves a literal celebration, we are exhausted.

➜ username I LOVE HOW EVERYONE HAS HAD ENOUGH LMFAO

➜ username RIGHT LIKE THEYRE SO OVER IT LMAO

y/n jo literally had the most unfair death in the whole show ???

➜ lewishamilton can we not be cute FOR ONCE

➜ y/n tbf jo and dean would’ve been endgame

➜ lewishamilton there you go 😍😍😍

username MY PARENTSSSSSSSSS

username YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO BREAK UP 🔥🔥🔥🔥

georgerussell63 WE DONT HAVE TO WALK ON EGGSHELLS ANYMORE 🥳

username is this … happiness? mercedes and ferrari fans are…. happy?

➜ username i sense a disturbance in the force

➜ username the happiest we’ll be all season LMAO

➜ username REALLLLL LMFAO

y/n you’re all mine 💕

➜ lewishamilton yours 🤞🏾

➜ y/n WAIT I CAN SAY THAT PUBLICLY NOW

➜ y/n GUYS HE’S MY BF 🤍🤍🤍🤍

➜ y/n AND I LOVE HIM 🤍🤍🤍 A LOT

➜ username SHE SAID IT!!! SHE SAID IT!!

username a hard launch for the books ong

username i’ve never been happier to see two people in love in my life

➜ username no literally

username AMENNNNNNNNN

username god i see what you did to other people

mercedesamgf1 toto says congratulations 🥳👏🏽

➜ mercedesamgf1 and that he was sick of his favourite couple hiding their love

➜ username EVERYYYYYYBODY IS TIRED HUH

➜ scuderiaferrari each and every one of us. exhausted. sick even.

➜ username oh y’all’s therapists have therapists 😭

lewishamilton okay stop looking at MY girl guys 🙄

➜ username “MY GIRL” 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

➜ username OUR girl lew 🤞🏽

➜ lewishamilton no.

➜ username fym no?? sir she was our gf before she was became yours 😐

➜ lewishamilton well she’s MINE now so 🥰

➜ username okay jealous icon 😁🙏🏽

➜ username the fact he uses emojis so unironically well now bc of y/n is irritating like i can hear him say that lmfao

➜ y/n he may be an old man but that’s MY old man 🥰

➜ username this is everything.

➜ username 😭😭😭😭😭😭

➜ username “MY old man” 💔💔💔💔💔

[sserpente]

For Old Times' Sake

Synopsis: When your landlord drags you before Lord Gortash to settle your debts, your life gets turned upside down. It is not the fear of imprisonment that paralyses you at Wyrm’s Rock—it is him. Enver Flymm, as you’d once known him, a shy and clever boy and your only childhood friend. Will he recognise you and show mercy, help you out?

A/N: My obsession with Gortash is getting out of hand. I don’t think I care.

Words: 2853 Warnings: angst, homelessness, mentions of death and abuse

The number on your tax letter was bright red—quite possibly scribbled on there with the previous tenant’s blood. Three thousand and five hundred gold pieces. That was more money than you had ever seen in your life.

“I’m a little short.”

The half-orc—your landlord—rolled his eyes. “By how much?”

“Um…about three thousand and four hundred ninety-nine gold pieces.”

“Are you mocking me?”

“I’m not, I…I am trying to find work right now. I was preoccupied with organising a funeral and scraped together the last of my savings to buy my parents a coffin. I will start paying off the debts and all the money I owe if you give me just a little bit more time…”

The half-orc scoffed. “Funny, that’s what your parents always said too. Just a little bit more time. I’m done playing games, kid. In times like this, the Fist can’t let this keep happening. You pay your rent, you pay your taxes, you contribute to the city’s safety—and you face the consequences if you cannot do so.”

It was this new Steel Watch mainly that ate up most of the tax money. An entire Foundry had sprouted from the ground down by the docks seemingly overnight. They were rather scary automatons and they were not known for their mercy.

“It’s Friday,” the half-orc continued. “We are settling this once and for all. Your missing payments are biting a hole into my coin purse.”

Your eyes widened. Each Friday, Lord Gortash—the city’s new hero, protector, and saviour—held public hearings where citizens could voice requests, concerns, or other pleas. You’d never seen the man in person. He looked handsome enough on the posters, you’d read about his good deeds and heard about his generosity. But apart from that, he was a stranger to you. You’d known a young boy once called Enver though—Gortash sharing the same first name could only bring you luck, no?

Perhaps…perhaps it wouldn’t be too bad. You could make your case—explain to him that when your parents died from sickness, the remaining debts from all the medication that didn’t help in the end had been passed on to you.

You inherited a small house with broken windows, corroding wood and a serious rat problem in the cellar rendering food rations useless. Not that you had many to spare. You’d always wondered what a full stomach felt like.

“Will you come with me willingly or do I need to get a Fist?”

“This really isn’t necessary, saer. As soon as I’ve found work—”

“I am done making exceptions. We are leaving for Wyrm’s Rock. Now.”

You didn’t want to make a scene, not here. Not with the Steel Watchers within reach. With a sigh, you folded the letter from your landlord and handed it back to him, then followed him through the Lower City to Wyrm’s Rock as if you were walking to the gallows.

The place was packed. You’d expected little else. Lord Gortash was very much in demand. There was a long queue when you arrived, several Fists positioned at every possible entrance along with some patrolling Steel Watchers to ensure no one cut the line.

Five minutes turned into ten minutes, ten minutes into twenty. With every passing second, you felt the nervousness tightening its iron grip around you more. The punishment for evading rent was eviction, for one, and imprisonment for another. But perhaps Lord Gortash would hear you out.

It took another ten minutes before you were called up to the audience chamber. As if he was worried you’d try and make a run for it now, the half-orc grabbed your upper arm, dragging you with him. At the far end of the hall, two Steel Watchers were positioned on either side of a pretty throne in front of which stood a handsome man with short black hair and elegant black armour.

“Lord Gortash…thank you for your time,” your landlord began. He bowed—and so did you. Gortash’s eyes skimmed over the half-orc with mild interest before moving on to you. Dark orbs boring into yours, stirring…recognition within you. His face…you could have sworn you’d met him before.

“How can I be of service, hmm?” he asked with a sly smirk. Your heart almost leaped out of your chest. That scar on his chin…that little boy you knew from your childhood…a boy named Enver…

“E-Enver? Enver Flymm? Is…is that you?”

Your landlord’s head whipped in your direction, the disrespect apparent, even more so when Gortash began to frown. Who were you to call the archduke by his first name? But this…this was different. You knew him. He was…or used to be…your friend.

“It’s me!” You told him your name, excitement washing over you like a wave. “R-remember me? We used to play together as kids. You…you just disappeared one day. I never found out what happened to you and your parents wouldn’t talk to me…”

Your landlord cleared his throat before Gortash could answer—the archduke’s face, however, was painted with recognition. He did remember you.

“Whatever, Lord Gortash, this…tenant of mine has been behind with paying rent for months. I am currently missing nearly four thousand gold pieces which she claims she’ll be able to ‘pay back soon as soon as she finds work’.”

Enver knew your family was poor, they always had been. He himself didn’t have a lot growing up. While other kids would brag about the new toys that they got for their birthday, Enver got a beating out of asking for some simple tools for his special day. He’d always been a tinkerer.

“I see. I am going to deal with this. Would you excuse us for a moment?” Gortash finally spoke.

Taken aback, your landlord nodded. Dismissed. You breathed out audibly. Good, this was good. You’d get to tell him your side of the story and he’d help you, he had authority now, he had the power to…

“You have chosen a criminal career then?”

Your heart dropped. “C-criminal? I’m not a criminal.”

“You refuse to pay rent. And tax evasion too?”

“I don’t refuse. I simply…I can’t, I have no money left. You…you remember my parents, right? They passed two ten days ago. We spent all we had on medication and healers and that was after they started struggling with their health. They couldn’t work as much anymore and so we fell behind.”

“Hmm.”

He tilted his head and for just a brief second, you saw the young boy flash before your eyes again. You couldn’t help but smile despite your sad circumstances. Gods, you were a childhood friend of the archduke… Now that your parents were gone…perhaps you wouldn’t be all alone after all.

“I…I thought about you a lot. You were my only friend back then. I always assumed your parents sent you off to some private school outside the city to give you better opportunities or…or that an incurable sickness claimed you. Just earlier today I thought I once knew a little boy who would have loved these Steel Watchers. And now it turns out it was you all along. I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“I put my talent to good use.”

“You did. I remember when we were little kids we would roam the streets and search the city for old metal parts. You’d tinker away and build your own toys with them. This one time you made me a dancing ballerina, do you remember? You…you found this old music box a merchant had abandoned. The music was all distorted at first but…you made it work again. That was the best toy I ever had.” You paused. All of a sudden…you were mourning him. Mourning your childhood friend you thought you had lost for good.

“What happened to you? Where did you go?”

Gortash’s brown eyes locked with yours. But then, his expression hardened. “That matters not. Your landlord expects a solution for his dilemma.”

Your face fell. “You…you could help.”

“I could,” he mused. “But I am the archduke of Baldur’s Gate now, my dear. If I start waiving laws in favour of an old acquaintanceship, people are going to start questioning my reliability.”

“But—“

“Your landlord is in the right. If you cannot afford rent, he has the right to evict you. I am going to spare you the dungeons—for old times’ sake.”

“Enver…”

“That is Lord Gortash to you. We are not children anymore.”

Your lips parted. “Is…is that it?”

“Yes. You are dismissed.”

You didn’t even notice your tears until they wet your cheeks. You turned around without a word of goodbye, without a formal bow. Your landlord was seemingly pleased as you rushed out. You didn’t wait for Enver to tell him the good news.

As of right now, you were homeless. And even though you hadn’t seen your only friend in years, against all reason, your heart shattered into a million pieces.

You just didn’t understand. Enver used to be such a sweet boy. Innocent, full of visions and dreams, shy, quiet. Everyone who knew him including his own parents labelled him as ‘odd’ but you knew better.

Now, he was the reason you’re homeless. Wait, no. That wasn’t right. Your landlord was the reason you were homeless. Enver had simply honoured the very rules set in place before he became the archduke. Perhaps he was right and he couldn’t make an exception—it would be unfair on others. He could have sent you to prison but he didn’t. That had to be enough.

As you made your way through the Lower City past merchants, civilians, and Steel Watchers a few weeks later, wondering if you’d be able to have a meal today, the sudden tumult right in front of Basilisk Gate had you pause. You frowned, hurrying toward the crowd of people that had formed before the gallows. Three men with nooses around their necks stood on the wooden platform, in front of them, facing the citizens, stood Enver.

What in the hells was happening?

“…so let this be a fair warning. These are the consequences of disobedience. I am not going to tolerate disrespect. I have led this city to glory—and I ask for recognition and your trust in return.”

Your frown deepened when Enver gave a court nod to the hangman. The very moment the trap doors gave way under the prisoner’s feet was the moment you looked away—but not before the archduke’s eyes met yours.

“I am telling you,” you heard a citizen whisper to another, “there’s something foul about this man. He acts like a bloody Banite.”

A Banite. You swallowed. That was a serious accusation. Surely, a sweet boy like Enver wouldn’t turn to Bane worship.

“My words exactly,” the other citizen responded, “I heard he is friends with the chief editor of the Baldur’s Mouth Gazette and only what he approves of gets printed.”

A scoff. “Talk about propaganda.”

You’d heard enough. With your heart in your mouth, you stepped away, attempting to disappear in the crowd and perhaps ask for a gold piece or two. You flinched when a Fist touched your shoulder and flipped you around to face her.

“Lord Gortash has requested your presence. You will follow me.”

“W-why? What does he want?”

She didn’t respond. And if you refused to follow her? You didn’t want to find out.

You hadn’t expected to return to Wyrm’s Rock any time soon, nor that you’d be led up the stairs to Lord Gortash’s private quarters. The place was imposing. And of course, when you spotted him behind his desk, he was accompanied by two Steel Watchers.

“Ah, hello, my dear. Have you been faring well?” he mused. You could have been mistaken—but it was almost like you sensed scornfulness swinging in his voice.

“I am homeless. How do you think I’m faring?” you snapped before you could stop yourself.

“Oh, don’t give me that reproachful tone. We are all bound by laws and order, my dear.”

You blinked. “What do you want from me?”

“I have a proposition for you.”

“You do?” Hesitation mixed with suspicion. After seeing him hang people in public today…you weren’t sure a proposition would do you any good.

“It’s quite simple, really. Serve me and I shall give you a roof over your head.”

“Serve you?”

“I’ve had my Watchers keep an eye on you. It is quite noble of you not to resort to stealing. Surely, you understand why the citizens of Baldur’s Gate are becoming more and more hesitant to spare a few coins, though.”

You’d read in the Gazette only yesterday that the tax rates were going to be increased yet again starting next month. Both the Fist and the newspaper itself had become very vocal about their dismay when it came to the poor and those in need. It was concerning—terrifying, even.

“Being archduke comes with a lot of responsibilities. My hands are full with political duties, I need people around me to run errands for me and assist me. What do you say? For old times’ sake?” he continued.

“You want me to work for you?” Only weeks ago, you would have jumped at the opportunity. You and your childhood friend reunited at last. Him being the archduke, you being his assistant, his right hand. Now, however, the request left a bitter aftertaste in your mouth. You did not agree with his cold-hearted choices to hang usurpers. There was always a more peaceful solution. Imprisonment, for one.

“Do you know what people are whispering, Env-…Lord Gortash? They have suspicions you could be a Banite. You hung people for disobedience! How is that a fair judgement? How can I work for you if this is how you—”

“One of them plotted an assassination against me. You have no right to question my rule, my dear. Lest you’ll end up like them.”

Your lips parted. He didn’t even deny it. He…he didn’t deny he was worshipping Bane… Damn all appropriation. “Enver, please, what happened to you? You used to be such a sweet boy, you comforted me when the other kids picked on me, you—”

“My parents, my dear, sold me to a Warlock. I disappeared because I was shipped off the hells to serve a devil called Raphael in his House of Hope. I faced years of degradation and abuse until I finally managed to escape. I had nothing, I was nothing. The Black Lord picked up the pieces that were left of me and made me what I am today. And I am giving you a chance now. You have potential. Serve me and we can rise together.”

You blinked, processing his words. Sold? To a devil? No wonder his parents had refused to speak about him after his sudden disappearance. The torment he must have experienced…you could almost understand why a tyrannical god like Bane would infiltrate his dreams and promise him power and glory.

“I…I don’t know about this, Enver. This…this is tyranny.”

“In times like this, tyranny is what people need. They don’t listen—and they need a strong leader to help them make the choices that are best for the city. As of right now, free will is their greatest enemy.”

“Is that truly what you think?”

Enver’s expression darkened. He took a menacing step forward. All of a sudden, you felt so much smaller than before.

“I will not have you belittle my faith.” He paused. “I expect an answer. Now.”

You were torn—way too much so. This answer should be a decided No. Working for a Banite, for a worshipper of one of the Dead Three…it was wrong. It should be wrong. And yet…you were hesitant. Not only did Enver promise to end your homelessness but also an alliance. You were clueless as to how he assumed you would be of any use to him but you’d be damned if you didn’t admit that ever since he’d stepped into your life again…it felt like a part of yourself had returned to you. Against all reason, that made you happy. Relieved, even. You weren’t entirely alone—and you certainly wouldn’t be if you accepted his proposal.

You took a deep breath. “F-fine. I…I accept. I…I don’t want to lose you again.”

If he’d expected you to agree, he didn’t expect this. For just a split second, his composure faltered, surprise and something ever so soft washing over his face. It was gone again as fast as it had appeared.

“Splendid. A wise decision, my dear. I shall have one of the empty servants’ rooms prepared for you. Unless of course, you’d rather stay with me?” he mocked.

“You know, I would actually like that,” you said with a weak smile. Because you’d missed him. Banite or not, you were grateful he’d found his way into your life again. Not all was lost—perhaps you’d be able to talk to him. Help him be a better person just like he’d helped you be one when you were young. You’d find a way. For old times’ sake.

A/N: I already have an idea for a Part II.

[zoropookie]

HOW HATERS ARE BORN (HHAB)

♡ chapter thirty-two — do your taxes (💋)

The funniest thing about apple orchards is that there's never just one type of apple orchard.

Why were they all unique? He would never care enough to find out. The main point is that he's got one now; and even with his extensive research on said orchards, he can't even find the proper way to take care of 100 per acre.

That's how he felt as his violet eyes examined the nature, almost with malicious eyes.

The orchard was in its bloom, a quilt of colors as green and gold under the sun had grown duller from the overcast day. It was ironic, really. He was convinced Sumeru never rained except for around the woods, and even then, there’s no thunderstorms. He thought picking a desert would make it so that people wouldn’t feel inclined to figure out where he lives, but at this rate, he was better off just selling the orchard part of the home to some guy who really likes fruit.

Scaramouche— or rather, Kunikuzushi...knew Furina did this on purpose. But jokes on her, really, he has much more discipline than she thinks.

It was taunting him, especially because he knew his lack of expertise and despite that, the trees still stood proud. The rows were endless, each one seemed to rustle softly under the unnatural clouds of the day.

Deciding to leave it, he opted to go back inside and waste away with the nagging feeling of that fucking orchard again. He stepped away as his steps crunched softly on the gravel path back to his front door. It was like the neglect was oddly making them stronger of a threat to him.

It was kind of offensive. How they just live on without him. But it was also what he'd hope would happen with everything anyway. Maybe he didn't know everything about orchards, and maybe he never would. But all he did know was that he wouldn't see himself enjoying the sickly smell of the fruit rotting soon. Was this going to be on his taxes? Doesn't matter, he's evading them this year, just like he does everything else.

'Horrible idea', he thought. Do your taxes.

Once he went back inside, the dim lights and the cool air of his home welcomed him again. But it wasn't a miserable type of welcome, for once. The air was what he wanted it to be, different from the overwhelming perfume of apples outside.

The longer he mulled on it, the worst his thoughts nagged at him. So instead of looking up someone to take care of his orchard, he yet again began to start reading one of the many books about garden and orchard care he bought at some abstract store in the city on his coffee table.

It took up hours of his time at once— taking notes, reading more, reading another book to confirm his suspicions. The words blurred together and he would force himself to consume the material again.

He was only actually taken out of the fixation once he heard a soft knock on his door many hours later. His head snapped up quickly, his bleary-looking eyes blinking multiple times to clear his haze. With a deep sigh, he closed the books, stretching his stiff muscles. He quickly rose from the chair once the knock sounded off yet again.

When he opened the door, his entire brain flatlined in an instant. You were standing there, a suitcase beside you and an unordinary looking cat nuzzling the leather. The sight of your presence, mainly very out of place in his domain. He had no idea what to say, so he didn't say anything at all. His lips parted smally, awkwardly looking everywhere except your eyes. "Hey."

"Hey," You remained straight face, the cat meowing softly, rubbing against your leg now. "I didn't know you knew how to farm." Your voice was as gentle as the knock.

"I don't." He responded, also just as straight face. "Your cat?"

"Housewarming gift."

There was no way that he could take care of a cat with how worried he is with the orchard. No matter how much the cat looked into his eyes and matched his expression, a very sentimental emotion he held for it in the moment. Still, very ironic for fate to do this to him. "Keep it."

A moment of silence came across the both of them, it was like the air that Kuni was talking about was now polluted with the same feelings he did about leaving. Which disappointed him, it was almost like he was never going to stop remembering things again.

Until you approached Kuni with a swift movement that turned into you encompassing him in a hug. The sudden hug caught him off guard, stiffening in initial reaction. It was something he didn't usually get too comfortable with in the first place, but something was different about this one. Something definitely more relieving.

"You could have just been honest from the start." You said, exhaustion finally meeting you halfway.

The more he stood there, enveloped in your warmth, the weight that was always on his shoulders loosened him. And time suspended itself momentarily, allowing him to feel the steady rhythm of your heartbeat sound off with his. Except his could have very well been faster than yours in that moment.

He allowed himself to lean into you after a while, to bask in your presence, and to feel the comfort that he wish he had a long time ago. "I know." He whispered, a guilty solace in his voice.

previous ♡ masterlist ♡ next

YOU ARE on your way to being one of the hottest streamer in your nation at the moment, racking a monthly average of 10 million viewers, but something specific bothers you about it. you know that a lot of people hate you, but there's this one account. one account that's been following you since the early days of your career. they leave a flood of rude comments in your stream, your moderators banned each account they made, but they keep making more. you are at the end of your tether. but you are yet to find out that this persistent cockroach is none other than your friend's friend (and the only other streamer that's bigger than you), scaramouche.

taglist ♡ @thystarsshine @veekoko @gumickajolli @simonisferal @kamiboo

@justpeachyteastea @feiherp @pinkismyfavcolor @aether-darling @kunisnaomi

@keiiqq @mine-lu @featuredtofu @danhenglovebot @k4zushi

@kyon-cherri @b4tm4nn @iiinaurate @quacking-simp @auroratumbles

@kookiibun @ulquiorraswife @amvpk01 @simplysm1le @h3xi2g0n3

@alatusorrow @scaranthropy @mellowberrie @magica-ren @vernith

@kabukipookie @bananasquash @suqarlaced @dellalyra @lightyagamifan

@yourfavoritefreakyhan @heartsforseo @yomishen @pwushizz @swivy123

@strxwberryfetish @ibyobi @ashfrommars4 @chemiru @ainnofinway

@agaygothicmushroom @levianamor @dragontammerz @wth121 @lylovw

@morgyyyyyyy @lovemari @suniika @littlesliceofcheese @yumejo89

@liuaneee @franaby @tiddieshakeshownu @mimi3lover @kavineyah

@kittywagun (bold users means i'm having trouble tagging you)

[withacapitalp]

How to Rehabilitate a Jock Pt 20

Part Nineteen Part One Link to ao3

A huge thank you to so many people but it's especially @thefreakandthehair for betaing, being the best, and generally encouraging all of my nuttiness. Also a big shout out to Bowie ( don't remember your Tumblr my lovely!!) for doublechecking some sensititvity reading for me. Y'all rock!!!

Jeff had the decency to wait until Frank was safely in his house before he called Eddie out on his shit. 

“What the fuck are you doing, man?” Jeff sighed the second the door closed behind Frank, leaving only the snow, Eddie’s headlights, and two best friends about to have an incredibly awkward conversation. 

“Driving you dicks home?” Eddie tried, hoping that he could fool Jeff into not having the uncomfortable conversation that was already beginning. He kicked the van into reverse, throwing a hand casually over Jeff’s seat as he turned and began to maneuver his way back to the road. 

“Eddie.”

It wasn’t much. It wasn’t anything really. Just his name, nothing more, nothing less, but it was Jeff’s tone. 

That voice, the voice he always used when he was trying to cut through Gareth and Eddie’s bullshit. Corroded Coffin had lasted all these years because of balance. Frank was their rock, steady and sure; Eddie and Gareth were the stream, bouncing and playing and whirling around in a daze; but Jeff was the earth around them. Jeff was everything, and Eddie might be their leader, but Jeff was the one that held everything together. 

And he was the only one who could get Eddie to drop the act with just one word. 

“Honestly, dude? I have no fucking idea what I’m doing,” Eddie sighed, slightly curling in on himself as he focused on the road. The snow was only mildly awful at the moment, but winter in Indiana could turn on a dime and Eddie wasn’t looking to run his van off the road just because Jeff was grilling him about his stupid little completely non-existent crush. 

“Well, what do you want from him?” Jeff asked, dragging the first word slowly out as he thought about what he wanted to say. Sometimes the other members of Hellfire would do things like that— talk slow or choose words carefully, just to try and avoid Eddie’s sparky temper. 

Unfortunately for him, Eddie was already worked up about this particular topic. 

“Great question!” Eddie snapped, going to throw his hands up before choosing to be wise and hold the wheel steady. A small squall was beginning to form around them, and his visibility was starting to cut to next to none.

“Okay, okay,” Jeff said, placating to Eddie’s need to be a bit of an asshat, “So what happened between you and Steve that’s got Gareth so pressed?”

If it was any other person in the car with him, Eddie might have been able to fake it. Even Frank might have fallen for a lie about Gareth’s hatred of jocks and conformity and how Steve was just a representation of that. 

But it was Jeff. Jeff, who was their Earth, who knew that Gareth’s grudge wouldn’t have lasted this long if it wasn’t motivated by protectiveness. That the only reason Gareth wouldn’t have started to warm up even a little bit was his need to make sure his people were safe. 

Few things in life were assured, but death, taxes, and Gareth Winston’s need to protect his own were all a given.  

“Steve probably doesn’t even remember, so it doesn’t matter,” Eddie muttered, evading the question just as he narrowly evaded a pothole that seemed to appear out of thin air on the road in front of them. The storm was picking back up again, and this was not the conversation to be having right at this moment.  

“Well, do you want him to fuck you?” Jeff asked bluntly, cutting through the fat and straight to the juicy meat of the problem. 

“Jeff!” Eddie blurted out, a nervous burst of laughter escaping along with his name. He took the risk of looking away from the road for a few seconds to give the other boy a wild-eyed look, but Jeff seemed unphased, cool as a cucumber as a lion’s smile began to curl on his face. 

“Do you want to fuck him?” 

Unbidden, a dozen images flashed through Eddie’s head. Steve in his bed. Steve shirtless. Steve underneath him with his hair splayed out on the pillows, wrists trapped in gleaming silver cuffs as he begged so pretty for—

No. 

No no no no no no NO. 

“Dude!” Eddie groaned, turning away from the road again to shout at Jeff. 

And then it happened. 

Jeff’s shit-eating grin disappeared, his eyes growing to the size of dinner plates as he shouted a wordless warning cry and Eddie had less than a second to turn back to the road, slamming his foot on the brake and throwing his arm out to protect Jeff from the inevitable crash. 

There was something on the road in front of them. The snow made it impossible to see beyond the shape, but, whatever it was, it was massive. Huge, and hulking, with a dark shadow that sent a chill down Eddie’s spine, and he was sure his van wouldn’t survive the impact. 

But no impact came. 

His tires skidded, the van turned half a quarter, but no collision, no smashing glass, no pain. Just twin panting from him and Jeff, and an empty road all around them. 

“What was that?” Jeff whispered when he was able to form words again. 

“A deer, I guess,” Eddie murmured back, not really feeling all that sure of his answer. He had never seen a deer like that, but he also hadn’t really seen anything. His wild imagination wanted to run with it, but there was no point. Whatever it was, it was gone, and that’s what mattered. 

He leaned back against his seat, his heart still racing as he patted Jeff’s chest twice, slightly assured when he could feel Jeff’s heart pounding through his shirt as well.

“Sorry.” 

“Shouldn’t’ve distracted you,” Jeff mumbled, lacing his fingers together to hide how badly they were shaking. 

“Hey, not your fault,” Eddie said, knowing how Jeff’s anxiety tended to latch to any blame it could when it got tripped like this. Eddie tested the van, carefully pulling back onto the right side of the road. They stayed quiet as Eddie turned them towards Jeff’s house, driving at a turtle’s pace with both hands on the wheel. 

“I want to help him,” Eddie offered into the silence, eyes firm on the road. “If I can.”

When Jeff didn’t immediately respond, Eddie thought that was the end of the conversation, but as they approached Jeff’s neighborhood, the boy next to him spoke up again. 

“Steve needs the help. Something’s really wrong with him, Eds.”

“You’re turning over to Gareth’s side?” Eddie joked, the words thin and frail and instantly disappearing the second he put them in the air. 

“No,” Jeff replied, no veil of humor over his words. “There’s something wrong with him like there’s something wrong with me.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Eddie said on instinct, hating the bitter scoff Jeff gave. He pulled up to a stop sign and put the van all the way in park, turning in his seat and giving Jeff his full attention 

“Look at me.” Eddie ordered, waiting until Jeff’s dark eyes met his own in the dim light of the streetlamp before speaking again. 

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Jeff. Nothing.” He said, making sure that there was zero wiggle room in his voice. 

Because there wasn’t, and Eddie hated that his best friend thought there was. There was something wrong with Hawkins, with the country they lived in, with the world. There was something wrong with a species that somehow made color a defining factor in a person’s worth, but there was not, and never would be, anything wrong with who Jeff was.

“Fine, then something wrong happened to both of us,” Jeff amended, a ghost of a smile crossing his face at Eddie’s insistence. “Either way, just be careful with him,” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be giving Steve the shovel talk? Not the other way around?” Eddie joked, putting the van back in gear and turning onto Jeff’s street. 

“When you get him, I’ll give him the talk,” Jeff promised, crossing his heart as he did. 

When, not if. Just one word instead of the other, but a flush of warmth flooded Eddie from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. There wasn’t a chance in hell that Jeff was right to use the word ‘when’, because Eddie’s chances were not even ‘if’, but he loved the positivity. 

“Have a good night, man,” Jeff said as they pulled into his driveway, holding out a hand for a quick shake as he unbuckled his seatbelt.  

“Hey,” Eddie called, grabbing the edge of Jeff’s coat as he stepped out of the van. “Us freaks stick together. Always.”

It was a little reminder, just a hint of a conversation they had over a year ago, but judging by the way Jeff’s eyes softened and his shoulders lowered, he knew exactly what Eddie was reminding him of. 

“Always,” Jeff echoed, squeezing Eddie’s wrist once before he hurried towards his darkened house and slipped inside. Eddie waited till the porch light turned off before sighing heavily, resting his head against the steering wheel for a moment before reversing again. 

Back to the lion’s den. 

The house was dark as Eddie quietly let himself back in, but the glow of the pool and the embers of the fire crackling in the fireplace gave just enough light to see the aftermath of the party. It wasn’t half as bad as some of the messes Eddie had seen from Steve’s previous parties, but it was still pretty messy. There would be a lot of cleanup coming tomorrow, and Eddie’s heart ached when he thought about Steve spending Christmas Eve alone cleaning up his house. 

Damn this boy. Eddie didn’t even celebrate Christmas, and here he was worrying over Steve about being alone for it. 

Maybe Wayne wouldn’t mind having one more person over for dinner. Usually it was just the two of them, but Wayne loved his strays almost as much as Eddie did, and Steve was an easy guy to care about. 

Eddie would ask him tomorrow morning. Call before anyone woke up and see what Wayne said. Then he would offer to help clean and ask Steve when it was just the two of them. After all, no one should be alone on the holidays. 

Eddie was so lost in his thoughts, that he almost missed the sound of an angel singing somewhere up above. 

Are you lonesome tonight?

Do you miss me tonight?

Are you sorry we drifted apart?

But no, there was no missing that voice. Eddie was a connoisseur of music, but he already knew that almost any other song was ruined for him. He was the cat caught by the canary instead of the other way around, lost in the sound of a voice he hadn’t heard in years. It was deeper now, fuller, grown almost into a man from the boy he had been the last time Eddie heard him sing.  

Does your memory stray to a bright summer day

When I kissed you and called you sweetheart?

He climbed the stairs slowly, drawn like a moth to a flame, knowing it would burn, but needing to be close anyway. 

Do the chairs in your parlor seem empty and bare?

Do you gaze at your doorstep and picture me there?

Outside the room now, Eddie could see it all while still staying hidden. Steve was sitting on the floor, his head leaned back against the bed that was filled to the bursting with his sleeping children. 

His entire self was on display for Eddie, not just his body, but his soul and his mind, a gift being given without knowing, and Eddie was too selfish not to take it. 

Is your heart filled with pain?

Shall I come back again?

This was the boy Gareth couldn’t see, but the one Eddie couldn’t stop looking for. A boy who knew their first memory together. Without a doubt. Who had never forgotten, no matter how much Eddie tried to convince himself he had. 

There was no other reason to pick this song. 

Tell me dear, are you lonesome tonight?

And without permission Eddie was thrust into a memory.

Despite it only being his sophomore year, Eddie was more than used to getting detention. In the two years since he had moved to Hawkins, Eddie had earned his ‘problem child’ status at least twice over. This particular afternoon, he was stuck sitting at a graffitied desk in the detention room because he dared to argue when his teacher told him that it was valid to not believe in evolution when it went against your religious beliefs. 

Evolution. The base of all humanity. 

She was wrong, but she was the one with all the power, so Eddie was the one in trouble. 

Still it could’ve been worse. Wayne had given him the van for his fifteenth birthday, so he wasn’t stuck waiting on the steps for a ride home after missing the bus. It wasn’t technically legal, but Hopper tended to look the other way as long as Eddie continued to give him discounts on ‘merchandise’. 

All Eddie had to do was wait out the clock. Mr. Whiter had already fallen asleep at the desk up front and at six, Eddie would be free. Maybe he could even stop at Benny’s. The man always gave him extra fries to bring home to Wayne, and Eddie was making good money now that Rick was in the slammer. He was the last dealer left in town, so things were looking up. 

Well things would be looking up, except the kid next to him refused to stop sniffling. 

Eddie muffled an irritated sigh, sliding his eyes over to take stock of the boy sitting across the way. Clearly a freshman, and obviously his first time in detention. He was looking around the room with wide-eyed horror, slightly terrified of every single thing he saw, and obviously trying to brush tears away from his bruised cheek and busted lip. 

Normally, Eddie would just tell him to shut up. That detention was barely anything to have to deal with in the grand scheme of things, but he had seen the fight that landed the kid in detention, and it had been bad enough to warrant some misery. 

One second he and another boy (obviously a friend given how upset the kid was) were laughing by his locker, and the next second they were exchanging blows. It had been bad, taking three teachers to separate them, and somehow this kid had gotten in trouble for the whole thing!

But Eddie had seen the start, and it was the other twerp that had thrown the first punch. Yet somehow, he was already on the bus home and this schmuck was stuck in detention with the Freak of Hawkins High

The unjustness gnawed at Eddie’s soul, and the longer the kid sat there doing nothing but brush at his already dry cheeks, the harder it was to ignore him. 

Fuck it. There were worse ways to spend an afternoon. 

Eddie grabbed his notebook, slamming it open to a fresh page and dragging his favorite purple pen across the paper, taking a cursory glance at Mr. Whiter’s snoring form before sliding his chair over to the other boy. 

“Hi!” Eddie said, throwing a big smile in the kids direction and hoping that would grease the wheels a little. Eddie knew how intimidating he could look to the rest of the world, and he liked it that way, but it sometimes made it hard to make friends. 

Sure enough, the kid startled the second Eddie spoke, looking at him the way a deer looks at the hunter right before they hear the death shot. He didn’t seem like the type to just outright tell Eddie to fuck off, but he did look massively uncomfortable with Eddie invading his space.  

Oh well, what was the worst that could happen?

“Wanna kill some time?” Eddie offered, holding up his notebook before placing it down on the desk in front of them. A tic tac toe board sat in the middle of the page, and a scorecard was up in the top corner with the word ‘Eddie' on one side and the words ‘Random Kid 'on the other. 

A barely there smile glanced across the kids face as he looked down at the page, and then those big brown eyes were on him. Eddie waited patiently, forcing his body to stay still which was actually a pretty herculean task— not that this kid knew. He had the worm on the hook and the line in the water, and now he was just waiting for the curious fish to bite. 

Whatever the kid was looking for, he must’ve found it because that same soft, shy smile was gifted to Eddie as he leaned down, rooting around in his backpack for his own pen. When he found the one he was looking for, he carefully crossed over Eddie’s purple writing, replacing ‘Random Kid’ with just one word instead. 

“Well, Steve, let’s hope your tic-tac-toe powers are better than your fighting skills,” Eddie joked, pleased when instead of getting mad, Steve’s cheeks darkened in a pretty little blush, and he simply ducked his head with a soft protest and an embarrassed smile. 

They played a few rounds in relative silence, the occasional quiet groan or cheer when one or the other managed to clinch a victory. It was nice, a little boring, but far preferable to what they had been doing before. 

And then Steve’s pen died. 

It was a slow death, long and drawn out with some furious scribbling to try and get one last juice for the squeeze. 

“Here, man, just take mine. I’ve got a spare somewhere,” Eddie offered, not even thinking twice as he gave away his favorite pen, even though he never let anyone borrow that pen. Wayne had gotten it for him on a day trip to Indianapolis for his birthday, just a tiny trinket to commemorate the day, and Eddie loved it to death. 

There was no way Steve could have known that, and yet he was looking at the pen like it was a live snake. 

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Steve asked, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at the clearly treasured object in front of him. 

Eddie looked up at the other boy, furrowing his brow. 

“Why not?” Eddie said with a shrug, going back to his notebook with a plain black pen. He was scratching out another tic-tac-toe board to add to the dozens that were already on the page, but paused when he saw Steve wasn’t picking up his own pen. 

“People aren’t just nice,” Steve insisted, giving Eddie an unexpectedly guarded look. “They always want something…so what do you want from me?” 

“I want to make this afternoon a little less unbearable, I want to fight the system, and I want to make you feel better.” Eddie offered, quirking his head to the side and picking up his favorite purple pen to offer once more to the other boy, “Isn’t that enough?” 

They stared at each other for a long second, until Steve’s face broke into an incredulous smile and he ducked his head down. 

“You’re really weird,” he said with a soft laugh, taking the pen. It was a lovely sound, like birds singing in the morning, or the first soft strum of a guitar as practice began. 

Eddie needed to hear it again.

From there they were off, talking about everything and anything. Eddie shared about all of the  ridiculous reasons he had gotten detention over the years, and Steve explained that the other punk from the fight was Tommy, apparently his best friend for his entire life. They had lived next to each other since Steve had moved to Hawkins as a kid, and had done every single thing together. The reason Tommy had started the fight was Steve had told him he wasn’t sure he wanted to go to basketball try-outs tomorrow. 

“It’s not that I don’t like it, I just want to try some other stuff too you know?” Steve said, looking up from their game to catch Eddie’s eye, “We’re in high school now, so it’s the time to try something new, isn’t it?” 

“Sure it is!” Eddie agreed eagerly, holding himself back from going on a diatribe about the laundry basket devils that ran the school and instead talking about all of the clubs he was in. He couldn’t really see Steve enjoying Marching Band or Creative Writing, but Drama might be a good fit, or maybe Art. 

“You could even join the new club I’m trying to start if you wanted,” Eddie offered, trying to stay casual but practically vibrating at the thought of having someone else to show Higgins that Hellfire was worthy of a place at the table. 

“A new club?” Steve asked. 

“Yea, it’s gonna be great,” Eddie started, taking a deep breath to start his long rant about the joys of dungeons and dragons, “So it’s called—”

“Alright boys,” a nasally voice droned from the front of the room. “Time to pack it up.”

Both boys jumped at Mr. Whiter’s interruption, and Eddie rolled his eyes, frustrated at being stopped right as he had started to get to the good stuff. The geometry teacher either didn’t notice or didn’t care, too eager to get back to his own home to do whatever geometry teachers did when they weren’t at school. 

If Eddie had to guess, it was probably fucking their wives with compasses while reciting geometric formulas as foreplay. That seemed right. 

“And don’t let me catch you in here again, Mr. Harrington. I would hope your parents had taught you better,” Mr. Whiter said as they trudged past him. His blank potato looking face was only showing the barest hints of disappointment, but that was still enough to make Steve cringe away.

“Yes sir,” he whispered, all joy from the last hour they had spent together vanishing in an instant.

“What? No warning for me Mr. Whiter?” Eddie inquired, batting his eyes and trying to take the attention away from Steve. 

“I don’t particularly like wasting my breath on hopeless cases, Mr. Munson,” Whiter droned, half raising one brow, as if shocked that Eddie would even bother to ask for an admonishment. “Try to get your homework done tonight, will you? I’d hate to add another zero to my gradebook,”

Hot shame rushed down Eddie’s spine, replaced quickly by a lightning fury that made his lips loose and his logic take a quick hike. 

“Well, I don’t particularly like making promises I can’t keep, sorry Tighty-Whiteys!” Eddie declared, grabbing Steve’s hand and dragging him away before they could get in any trouble because of Eddie’s big fat mouth. 

“Jesus H Christ, that guys a dick!” Eddie shouted, both boys laughing breathlessly as they burst through the doors of the school. 

“You gonna do the homework?” Steve said through his giggles. 

“Now? Hell no!” Eddie swore, cackling as he did and jumping up onto the low wall next to the school. “Gotta fight the system however you can, Stevie. Trust me. Listen to your elders.”

“Whatever you say,”  Steve said, continuing to laugh at Eddie’s antics. He idly looked around the parking lot, his mood starting to darken as he looked again, searching the parking lot again, but Eddie wasn’t exactly sure what for. 

Then Steve sighed, plopping down on the curb and wrapping his arms around his knees resting his chin on top of them and rapidly blinking. 

“What’re you doin’?” Eddie asked with concern, shocked at Steve’s sudden turn and hopping down from his spot on the wall. 

“My parents aren’t here,” Steve muttered glumly, staring out at the empty lot instead of looking at Eddie as he sat on the curb next to Steve. “The school called after the fight, and they knew when I was getting out, but my dad’s probably going to make me wait ‘till after dinner or something.”

It wasn’t exactly the most damning thing to say in the world, Eddie could think of a dozen things that his dad had done to him that were worse, but the thought of making his own son wait for hours in the cold and dark still made something in his stomach squirm. He could never imagine Wayne doing anything like that to him.

Steve curled up even tighter around himself, completely unaware of Eddie’s internal struggle. 

“God, I bet they’re so pissed.” Steve whispered into his knees. “And now my dad’s going to have to come get me, and he’s going to be even madder about that—”

“Why don’t I give you a ride home?” Eddie offered in an instant, shocking even himself with the boldness of the offer. He had just met the kid only an hour ago, but Steve’s genuine nature touched something in him, and there was a magnetic pull to want to help him that Eddie couldn’t quite explain just yet. “Then at least they won’t be mad at you about needing a ride, right?”

It would make more sense for Steve to say no, to try and play it off, but instead he was giving Eddie a watery smile and a look of gratitude as he nodded, starting to stand. 

Eddie had never really worried about what the van looked like, but as they walked towards where it was, Eddie jogged ahead, trying to throw the multitudes of wrappers and junk into the back where Steve wouldn’t see. Luckily for him, the younger boy seemed enraptured by the simple fact that Eddie had a car at all. 

“I want something cool like a Beemer or a truck, but my mom doesn’t want me to get a car ‘till I’m 18,” Steve said idly, pausing and furrowing his brow as he did, “She’s really weird about me driving for some reason.” 

Hopefully, she wouldn’t feel too weird about a random guy giving her kid a ride home in a kidnapper van. 

“Pick a tape for us to listen to,” Eddie offered as he climbed into the driver's seat, fighting with his seatbelt as Steve perused his choices. Unfortunately, Steve quickly skipped over all of the metal that Eddie had at the front of the pack, but soon familiar notes began to sing, and Eddie’s shoulders relaxed as he recognized the song. 

“Ahhhh, The King. A good choice,” Eddie commented as Elvis’s voice began to croon out into the air between them. 

“Who could hate this song?” Steve asked rhetorically, a wry grin on his face as the tune began to take shape.

“I always loved that nickname,” Steve said off handedly, staring out the window at the rows of corn, “King.” 

“You should steal it then,” Eddie said automatically. Sure, Steve was a kid right now, but Eddie could see it in his eyes. A few years, a couple more inches, and that kid would have the world eating out of his palm. That sweet nature, that funny little humor, ‘King’ wasn’t too hard to imagine when it came to Steve. 

“Maybe,” Steve replied, drawing out the word with a tone that showed that he wasn’t sure about that. He gave Eddie a few more directions, and they got closer and closer to their time being done together. A strange desperation started to make Eddie’s heart race, like he could feel the two of them pulling back into their roles, backing away from whatever they had this afternoon. 

“It’s got a good ring to it. King Steve,” Eddie pushed, pausing and making the turn into Loch Nora before he put his heart on the line. 

“Why don’t you blow off basketball try-outs tomorrow? Come to my club I’m starting instead. You can meet my friends.”

It was a chance, a choice. Steve could make the right one, and be one of them, or he could get sucked into Hawkins and all of it’s hell hole small town bullshit. Eddie was giving him an out. 

“That sounds really fun,” Steve said in a small voice, a secret smile shared between them before it was ruined by a shout from the house in front of them. 

“Steven!”

It was a woman’s voice, and Steve’s entire body stiffened. No more smiles, no more relaxing, Steve was a rod of pure steel, with a blank unaffected face. A man and a woman, Steve’s mother and father presumably, were standing on the porch together, twin faces of disappointed gravity that stole all of the air out of the van. 

“Well, wish me luck,” Steve laughed without humor, his fingers worrying over the straps of his backpack as he started to unbuckle his seatbelt. 

“See you tomorrow?” Eddie asked, already knowing in his stomach that he wouldn’t. 

“Tomorrow,” Steve said, the word so thin and frail now. 

And he was gone. Out of the car, and most definitely out of Eddie’s life. But if he was losing this like he seemed to lose everything, Eddie wanted to at least say a proper goodbye. 

“See you later Alligator!” Eddie shouted through the window. Steve turned back, haloed by the setting sun, looking far too angelic for a gangly fourteen year old. 

“In a while Crocodile,” Steve called back with a slight laugh, just a shadow of his former self, turning and rushing to his waiting parents who gave Eddie one last glare before slamming the door shut. 

Eddie waited a second, staring at the locked door and listening to the song on the radio, wishing that the burning in his eyes would just disappear the way Steve had. 

Do the chairs in your parlor seem empty and care?

Do you gaze at your doorstep and picture me there?

Is your heart filled with pain

Shall I come back again?

Tell me dear, are you lonesome tonight?

Eddie opened his eyes again, back in the present, to find Steve already watching him. 

In another world, things worked out differently, but not in this one. 

In reality, Steve didn’t come to Hellfire the next day. Tommy was at his locker bright and early, there to laugh the whole thing off and drag Steve to try-outs come hell or high water. Eddie had seen the whole thing, and he had known then and there Steve wasn’t one of them. Steve’s cheek was still bruised, but there were finger shapes on his wrist that definitely hadn’t been there the day before during detention. He had glanced at Eddie, but quickly glanced away, agreeing loudly that try-outs were going to be awesome. 

When Steve had caught his eye that day, when he had tried to say he was sorry without words, Eddie hadn’t been in a place to listen. He had a thousand chips of his own weighing on his shoulders, and an inability to see anything but his own opinion as right. 

There was no way to be two things at once, not back then.��

But that bruised beat up kid was in front of him again, big hazel eyes begging for forgiveness again. And this time, Eddie finally felt ready to give it to him. 

“Hi Alligator,” Eddie whispered, the words barely able to get out past the lump in his throat. A small smile graced Steve’s lips as his eyes began to shine in the dark. 

“It’s been a while, Crocodile,” Steve whispered back. 

Tag List: @paopaupaus @zerokrox-blog @surferboyzaza @whatever-is-a-good-name@minjintea @addelyin @5ammi90 @hagbaby420 @shinekocreator @bornonthesavage @starxlark @electrick-marionnett @resident-gay-bitch @ash-a-confused-enby @classicdinosaurdeathpose @valon-whomsttf @rotten-lil-goblin @thereindeerlady @love-ya-kash @kerlypride @sparkle-fiend @thefreakandthehair @flowercrowngods @milf-harrington @sadcanadianwinter @gothbat99 @hotcocoaharrington @henderdads @lightwoodbanethings @colorful565 @h0n3y-dw @craterbbox @sourw0lfs @lesliiieeeee @bidisastersworld @tinynebula @ravnlinn @bonescaro @mexmatch @cottagecoredreams @joruni @hellykelly @maegan1116 @farewell-wanderlvst @desertfern @due-to-the-fact-that-im-a-slut @anythingforourmoonyedits @eerielake @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @sidekick-hero

[inpermanences]

Let me know if you think they would get married in a different way than the ones listed above! These are all the ones I personally think would happen that I can think of right now. I know I’m missing a bunch. Whichever one people like the most I’ll write about. Minus the Mabel one, it’s already a WIP.

[laugtherhyena]

Finally getting around to posting refs of my termina ocs, writing these kinds descriptions takes longer than i thought it would.

Character story

The silent Bohemian night reigns with an underlying uneasiness to it. You can't help but feel as if something sinister lurks in the horizon, just beyond where your eyes can reach..

In an attempt to ignore the chill underneath your skin, you reminisce about what has led you to this point in life…

You are the bastard daughter of the minister of All-mer’s church. From the moment you were able to understand the world around you, you knew you were not born to be loved. Your mother hardly paid any mind to you and your father was no different, if it wasn't for her threats to expose him for infidelity he would not have brought you into his home. You never saw that woman again, as the anchor that kept her stuck to that decrepit man was now in his own possession. For her benefit and your suffering, you stayed with your father.

Neither he nor his family were kind to you, it was clear as day that you were nothing more than an unwanted pest in their lives, one of which they aimed to take some benefit from by making you serve them as a houseworker. You were not allowed to eat at the table with everyone, nor receive beautiful clothes or a luxurious room. Years trailed at a snail’s pace as the man you loathed to call father continued to ignore your presence, on occasion he would allow you to enjoy some of the manor's luxuries, but only if you did an exceptional job on the house chores. The small room under the stairs was truly the only place you could call yours in the manor.

His wife despised your very existence and took it upon herself to make your life miserable, expecting you to excel on the most arduous tasks whilst still being available to tend to the family's every needs. There were many times you went to sleep with an empty stomach as a punishment from the mistress, other times you were left with a bruised face and a bleeding nose. With no one to care for you other than yourself, you learned how to tend to your injuries and illnesses with the help of some old medicine books from the mansion’s library. You took pride in your abilities to keep yourself alive and continued to improve your skills as the abuse became progressively worse.

On top of what you endured by the hands of the minister's wife, your half-sister was hardly any different from her, if anything, Madeline’s favorite activity was torturing you for her own amusement. Your shrieks of pain as she cut your face open with the ritual knife were a source of laughter for her, blood and tears stained the floorboards as the burning pain numbed all your other senses. You stitched your face back together, but no amount of healing could ever clear their remnants off of your face. She made you horrendous. Far too undesirable to look at to be around the manor when visits came by.

Your self-taught medical skills weren't enough this time, the depth of the cut was irregular, parts continued to bleed and stitches came off no matter how hard you wrapped your head with dirty old cloth fragments to keep it together.

Hate swelled inside of you with every string of pain, you were determined to never experience such suffering again. And so, you…

Stayed on the lookout for Madeline (Gain nearby awareness)

You stayed alert for your sister's ill intentions during all times of the day. The mixture of the aching of your injuries and the paranoia were incredibly taxing in your young mind, you became restless, anxious to the point where your heart always thrumped at an accelerated rate.

Nevertheless, it worked like a charm. You were able to evade your sister's grasp and even stop her in her tracks whenever she tried to hurt you or damage your few belongings. You felt proud of yourself even if it led to the mistress handing you more work out of Madeline’s complaints to her

Utilized your resources to the max of their potential (Gain resourceful worker)

To treat your pesky injury you made the absolute best out of the few materials you had in hand, reusing the same old cloth fragments to stop the constant bleeding and mixing a couple crushed herbs into blue vials to increase their capabilities. Keeping notes of your doings for whenever such tactics were needed again.

They worked, but not without undesirable consequences as your methods granted you a nasty infection that kept you bedridden for weeks. If it wasn't for the knowledge you gained on medicinal herbs from those old books you're certain you wouldn't have made it. You felt incredibly proud of yourself despite your rocky recovery.

After the fact you went on to dedicate all your free time into studying medicine. Countless sleepless nights were spent flipping through medical journals in the manor's library and filling notepad after notepad with knowledge you deemed essential. During the day, you dragged your exhausted body through the house chores, repeating whatever you read last night in your mind as you worked. Now whenever you got sick or hurt, not a single desperate tear was shed as you knew exactly what to do, which in turn made Madeline disinterested in tormenting you. It wasn't fun if your pain wasn't visible.

You watched as your half-sister’s physique blossomed into a beautiful woman while the conditions you grew under made yours grow skeletal and lanky, which paired with the nasty scars tainting your face made you loathe your appearance almost as much as you despise your sister and her entire family.

One evening, luck knocked at your door as a burglar broke into the manor and stabbed Madeline in the stomach amidst his escape. Your room under the stairs kept your presence unknown to the attacker, when it was safe, you followed her cries of agony and marveled quietly at the scene.

Your sister was dying, she couldn't even stand when the pain from the wound kept her legs in place. Blood soaked her clothes as her eyes screamed despair while you simply watched from barely a feet away.

For all the suffering she made you go through, her death would have brought you nothing but happiness…

Yet, you didn't allow that to happen. You grabbed a large towel and pressed against her abdomen to stop the bleeding, keeping her conscious as you waited for her parents to return home so she could be brought to a hospital. That woman couldn't fathom why you were doing this for her, but you were more than aware of where your intentions stemmed from.

Madeline would have died if it weren't for your actions, she's only alive because you allowed her to do so. Attaining a level of power over your beloathed sister of which she could never surpass, she owes her life to you for the rest of her pathetic existence and that fact filled you with a joyful sentiment much greater than if you had watched life drain from her eyes.

Your newfound brought you external consequences that had never crossed your mind at the pivotal moment. Madeline began treating you nicer, she started bringing you along her trips around town and lending you her belongings, chatting with you about life, seemingly interested in forging a real sisterly bond with you. With her abrupt change soon came her mother's, the mistress stopped demanding that you work around the house and began giving you money to buy good clothes and whatever your heart desired. 

In a matter of months you were treated no differently than your sister, even if your father would never officially recognize you as his daughter. These people now smiled kindly at your sight but none ever apologized, nor did they ever acknowledge the abuse you suffered in their hands as horrid as it was. You paid no mind to it though. What you seek in their care is the places their power can lead you to, and for that you can pretend to enjoy their presence.

You told your father of your interest in the medical field and he went on to pay for your tuition in Bremen’s most prestigious university. For the following years you were able to put all your time into something you truly loved while being miles away from those people, learning about procedures and tools you would never have access to if it weren't for the power you acquired over your disgraceful family.

During your studies, you couldn't help but think of the different ways your skills could be put to use…

Study anatomy and amputation (Gain hacking saw + ×1 bonesaw) 

Study anesthetic procedures (Gain chemical slumber)

When you graduated you wasted no time in joining the Bremen army. You were no fool to fall for Kaiser's lunatic preachings, but a lunatic with power certainly has its worth. If you were able to catch his attention then perhaps a fraction of this power could be passed onto you. Giddy with delight over the prospect, you packed your belongings while thinking of ways to make your abilities stand out amongst all other doctors and nurses in the army.

The reality of the situation was much harsher than you had anticipated, but you never cowered. Countless men on the brink of death came to you daily while the frail nurses grew sick with all the death and destruction, you took it upon yourself to put order in the situation and keep the men alive no matter how challenging or exhausting the procedures were. Each and every soul clinging to earth out of your doing added more power to your name, you were certain that if you kept this pace sooner or later Kaiser would direct his gaze towards you.

Keeping your sanity in check amidst the horrors of war was no easy task, you could feel your mind deteriorating as the months went by and the conflict worsened. Still, you never allowed anyone to see through the cracks in your persona, remaining as a miraculous savior for the most gruesome injuries despite being increasingly closer to your breaking point.

You were well aware that you would be unable to remain this way for much longer, not without a way to take off the edge…

Do some reading (Gain ×1 All-mer skin bible)

You used the brief moments of respite through the nights to read through the bible your sister gifted you the day you left home for university, it had been laying in the bottom of your bags untouched for several years. In the absence of anything better to do you decided to give it a shot, though it did nothing but remind you how much you despise magic and everything associated with it, especially the ones that dabble in your field.

You had heard about healing magic once or twice through casual conversations with your classmates back in the university, the reminder alone made your blood boil. A ritual circle and a sacrifice of some kind were all it took for any weak minded moron to achieve medical wonders that defied nature, requiring not a fraction of the effort you put into your work, yet capable of doing so much more than you could ever achieve with your own hands…

Your burning hatred pushed you towards working harder than you had ever before, dead set in showing your superior proficiency in comparison to those deranged cultists.

Drink your worries away (Gain ×2 Vodka)

Through the cold nights you navigated towards places where you could numb your senses with alcohol, be it establishments nearby or the army's own settlements where you knew soldiers would always sneak little things that could briefly take their minds away from the horrors.

Surrounded by men, you were thankful for having a good alcohol tolerance, but you had a hunch that they wouldn't try to do anything to you even if you were the type to become tipsy after a few sips. You could see it in their eyes, your efforts gave you an enormous level of respect amids both the soldiers and lieutenant. Your presence was striking and unquestionably imposing, if you ordered, these mindless buffoons would do anything you wished without question…

To have the confirmation that your power did increase significantly stroked your ego and pushed you towards working even harder.

But despite your continuous efforts, Kaiser hardly bat an eye on you. It seemed as if, in his eyes, you were no different than the countless other nurses in the Bremen army. Day by day that man’s ignorance filled your heart with ire as you grew to hate him and everything he stood for, but you were never the kind to give up, especially not after all the turmoil you endured thus far.

It may not have been what you envisioned but this project of yours certainly wasn't for nothing, as you received a command to travel to Prehevil, capital of Bohemia. Tasked with making a report on the town and assessing when would be the best time to coordinate and invasion. Perhaps if you excel in this task Kaiser will finally set his eyes on you…

With an unexpected trip on the horizon, how did you prepare?

Stock up on medical goods (Gain ×2 blue vial and cloth fragments)

Stock up on self-defense items (Gain Lugr Pistol and ×10 9mm Bullets)

Stock up on food (Gain ×2 dried meat and moldy bread)

Staring at the walls of the stuffy apartment you booked in order to lay low, you couldn't help but wonder if Kaiser himself hand-picked you for this task. Perhaps you are closer to your goal than you had anticipated.

Possibilities swarmed your mind until your consciousness slowly faded as you drifted off to sleep…

Character skills

[whyse7vn]

JEON JUNGKOOK

RANDOM 01:

!gc jungkook who is probably the most sensitive man you will ever meet. could literally cry about the thought of ants being stepped on there really has not been a day were jungkook has not cried over the smallest inconvenience or the stupidest scenario you could imagine

!gc jungkook who can and will make every single conversation he has about you

!gc jungkook who is the most affectionate member his favoured love language being psychical touch

!gc jungkook who was aware he could be “too much” (no pun intended hehe) told to him by many friends and exes

!gc jungkook who despite being the clingiest man alive now wasn’t always this way

!gc jungkook who a few years back was actually known as the quietest among your friendship group

!gc jungkook who made it his life mission to NEVER allow his members to see or experience the “overbearing” side of him

!gc jungkook who had never quite broken down the way he did when all his members sat him down one night and asked if he even liked working alongside them

!gc jungkook who the proceeded to speak about all his fears and insecurities sobbing into his hands (and namjoons shoulder) embarrassed out of his mind

!gc jungkook who had sobbed for the second time that night after the words “let us love you kook please stop holding back” left your mouth

!gc jungkook whose world seemed to shift after that

!gc jungkook who aged 21 moved into his first apartment with you actually throwing up at the thought of not being able to see you 24 hours a day

!gc jungkook who had to have his card taken away from him because he has no sense of saving and easily falls for the stupidest scams

!gc jungkook who without a doubt if asked (normally you don’t even have to ask) will fully admit that he is so deeply in love with you it causes him physical pain

!gc jungkook could actually die at the mere thought of you speaking to another man

!gc jungkook who lacks so much common sense it’s actually a miracle he’s still alive today

!gc jungkook who was convinced him and namjoon were related for 3 years cuz you joked about it one time for like 5 seconds and he fully believed it because everything you say is a fact and you would never lie to him

!gc jungkook who for some weird reason always carries a one dollar bill in his pocket

!gc jungkook who always sends each member a good night and good morning text

!gc jungkook who is the most strangely innocent (?) man you’ve ever crossed paths with despite the crazy crazy things that comes out of his mouth sometimes

!gc jungkook who is unintentionally sososo funny

!gc jungkook whose favourite thing is getting tucked into bed something about the gesture is so endearing to him makes him blush giggle and feel all warm inside (especially if it’s done by you)

!gc jungkook who watched bam almost kill pigeon one time in his garden and now refuses to look at or talk about pigeons ever again because he fears all pigeons may be plotting to get him when he’s lest expecting it for allowing one of their kind almost die WILL cry if someone even mentions the word pigeon

!gc jungkook who likes to bake cakes sometimes surprisingly he’s really good at it and lives for the little praises you give him when he does decide to bake

!gc jungkook who has a really strong fear of getting arrested for tax evasion for some reason??? like yeah namjoon helps him do all that stuff but what if one day joons feeling silly and makes him evade his taxes???? it’s a real fear and jk has it ok?!

!gc jungkook who believes with his whole heart that his members are the coolest people he’s ever met and everything any one of you does jk watches in complete awe and admiration

!gc jungkook who now unapologetically wears his heart on his sleeve

—

something while i try get my shit together 🤣🫰🏽😂🙏🏽

tags: @piw6n @92jinnies @birdie-vhs @kooksmilitarywife @hob3loveofmylife @jujubiism @bloopkook @ratchetpizza1 @myntalks @arloo00 @watamotee33 @y2kcy3brz @taiwan0618 @indigobsessed @freyadanvers @gguksbeloved @raetf @bbsantc @winuvs @medicinemybish @bxnnyhime @leleluvsbts @baetukki @zyaaaszn @thelilbutifulthings @jazminethecreator @k4ngelz @jmnscutie

[nostis-omnia-perdet-omnia]

Alex Strider.

This is a character bio for Alex Strider.

Alex Strider is a human street-kid, born to Benjamin Strider and Abigail Strider. She was born in the Free City of Rooksbury, a city with no formal government, ruled mostly by gangs and plagued by roaming monsters and random violence. She had always been a smart child, and she was smart enough to notice her family’s financial struggles. But it didn’t matter, or so she thought, for they would be just fine, as long as they had each other.

Alex was only 11 years old when it happened. The Jackals, the gang that lorded over their part of the city, increased the rate of tribute again. They wanted 20% of all coin made by the little potion shop her parents ran. If they paid all that, they wouldn’t have enough to eat, thought Benjamin. He decided to hide some of the money, as to evade the hefty tax. The week after tribute was charged, his undead corpse was found aimlessly roaming the streets, the skin on its face removed, and a snarling jackal branded on its chest.

She had, as many broken children do, blamed herself. If they just had more money, if they had just paid their tribute, none of this would’ve happened. But she did not sit still, wallowing in guilt. Instead, she picked up the skills and mind of a thief; pick-pocketing strangers, pilfering from the city’s many markets... Over the course of a year, she stole her way through the city.

Alex was only 12 years old when it happened. She had come back home, pockets full of what did not belong to her, a particularly good haul, she thought. She noticed the smell of alcohol, and paid no mind to it-- she had become all too used to the scent of her mother’s drinking. She left what she had stolen at the door, and went to look for her mother. It was strange-- she had yet to receive her mother’s greeting, the one she always received. It didn’t take long for her to find her mother on the ground, surrounded by bottles and empty syringes. Alex would never find out if it was an accident or suicide.

Alex was now an orphan. She had no one nor where to turn to. She roamed the streets, living off of anything she could steal, never spending more than a night at the same place. She had seen the city inside and out; the siren-infested docks, the underground wizard colleges, the dwarven-elven race wars… She had also profited from it all; the city’s chaos was something that could be exploited for gain, she learned. This lasted for a little over a year. Eventually, she had a run-in with a newly formed “gang”: The Outlawz. In reality, it totaled to little more than a group of teenagers, desperate for some form of stability. Though hesitant, she joined the group. Together, they formed a new family, composed of bonds forged in crime. Now, she had moved from petty theft to something akin to grand larceny (though, there was no jurisdiction to define it as such; Rooksbury is a “free” city, after all). Drugs, jewelry, gold, and many other goods were acquired during the many heists of the Outlawz. After the hefty cut taken by the fence, the gang’s fees for operating on their turf, and the split between the 6 of them, they were left with very little. But it was enough. Alex found herself thinking something she didn’t expect to ever think again: they would be just fine, as long as they had each other.

Alex was only 15 when it happened. The Outlawz had decided it; they would find a way to leave this city, and they would do it together. To accomplish that goal, they planned a heist, one more ambitious than any that came before. Tantalus Inc., a megacorporation, part of the Demilian Conglomerate that controlled a nation’s worth of land, had its headquarters in Rooksbury. A shipment of arcane components worth more than all of their previous earnings combined had recently arrived, and if all went well, would “disappear” just as quickly. Six people walked into that tower. One, the traitor among them, stayed at that tower, taken in by the corporation he’d sold his family out to. One, Alex, left that tower, with scars both internally and externally. The other four were never seen again.

Alex was done being naïve. She was done trusting in others. She was done with this city, this gods-forsaken city… She was done with stealing. She made a choice. One she never thought she’d make. She fashioned a weapon out of a baseball bat and a piece of steel sharpened and shaped to become an axehead. She took all the money she had left and had it enchanted. And then, she signed a contract. A contract with Skulltrader. For 6 months, they provided her with shelter, food, clean water, and training. After that, she was officiated; as the youngest mercenary in Skulltrader’s ranks.

A 16-year-old murderer for hire. No one in their right mind would hire her on her own; she would almost exclusively get ride-along gigs, providing backup for other mercs. She sometimes talked to them. They sometimes even let her come along on the post-job tavern crawls. But even then, it was business. Just. Business.

She got her first kill when she was 17. She couldn’t sleep for weeks after the fact. The second was easier. She can barely remember the fourth or fifth. Eventually, she started getting solo gigs; private security, gang warfare, shake-downs… She even managed to buy a glyph implant, that was installed into her spine, allowing her superhuman speed. That kind of bio-enchant was expensive, but worth every coin. Killing became second nature to her. She was good at it. She didn’t enjoy it, but she didn’t care. It was them or her, after all.

4 years passed. This time, there was no “each other”. There was her, her bat, and the mana flowing through her spine. This city wasn’t going to get the best of her. She wouldn’t fall into its traps again. She wouldn’t let Rooksbury defeat her. She would survive, no matter what.

Alex Strider: Orphan, stone-cold killer, former sucker and merc extraordinaire. She knew better than most: This was No City for Heroes.

[an0nfr0mth3d3n]

Ever heard the ‘Foolish and Bad are divorced’ theory? Here’s totally what happened.

Bad probably lost one of his lovers, and it happened to coincide with Foolish losing one of his lovers, and usually what happens is they seek each other out and cry about it (well Bad cries, Foolish makes a bunch of really sad and deprecating jokes because humor is his coping mechanism).

Well when the coincidence happens, they both end up finding each other and just, venting about mortals and how immortality sucks sometimes, until Bad is like, “gosh darn it Foolish I can’t go through this again. Can you just marry me so we can find love together and not get love-trapped by stupid mortals again?”

(I’m aware the words are out of character but if it was in character the amount of dodging and implying would take up several paragraphs and I’m not doing that)

And Foolish laughs and is like “Aaa fuck it. Might as well try I guess, your stupid ass is the only one who doesn’t leave anyways”

It’s very unofficial, they don’t go to a church or anything, and their rings are just mismatched random rings that Bad stole, but they both have weird and mixed feelings about this.

Bad says he’s sure they’ll love each other eventually (I hc him as demiromantic because it’s on the spectrum and because also that’s me too so yippee)

It takes a day or too before Foolish can’t take it any longer. Not only is it too soon, but when he takes a step back from his grief and actually imagines being in a somewhat romantic relationship with Bad, he wants to puke and roll over and die somehow. Also probably had something to do with the fact that Bad started moving in to his current build project and setting up space there and usually it’s not a promising sign for a marriage if you started the day after absolutely strangling your partner.

Bad also realizes this too. The thought of a traditional marriage at ALL has never sounded appealing. He isn’t one to get domestic with it, and despite trying to set up a home with Foolish sounds unappealing (noooo had nothing to do with the current bruises on his neck right now…) Bad lived for adventure, and liked solitude once in a while, and marriage was just a tether that promised no benefits except for tax purposes and he already evades taxes anyways.

They both fight each other to be the once that divorces the other, and they start by making this EVERYONES problem. They never had a traditional wedding, but they DID go to an official divorce court, making it a point to hire the best talent with divorce lawyers out there. Not that there was much to go on, they were only married for a handful of days, and it wasn’t even official so the lawyers have no clue what to do. They go with it anyways because it’s a totem shark and a demon and they are already beating the shit out of each other in the middle of the court, and the lawyers did NOT want to get in the middle of that.

Bad of course tries to weasel his way into getting 50% of Foolish’s build, and Foolish gets impatient with the court and just attacks Bad himself, fed up at the consistent attempts to steal his build.

They both roll around on the ground, biting, kicking, punching, and both of them are smiling through it. They can lean on each other when times get tough, but Landduo will NEVER stoop to petty human traditions ever again.

(whoops this turned into a mini hc fic)

[glimmerspirals]

certainly not me taking a niche aspect of belos lore and making a whole-ass OC around it.

btw i'm sorry if the post is hard to follow, i'm both really sleepy and excited.

so. Belos revived the basilisks. literally how? he can just do that, ig.

anyway, this wacky creature with blue hair and pronouns is Samite, who is currently more known as Izzie Weaver. They are a greater basilisk (who, i think, are just really old basilisks) posing as a witch. Usually they are seen lurking around the castle and, when questioned about their occupation, would say something about paperwork and taxes. So mostly they're assumed to be the emperor's secretary.

Samite and Philip met while the latter was still on the path to becoming the ruler of BI. At first it started as Samite (in varying disguises) following the funny preacher around to hear what he has to say. Then it developed into something more personal? Probably.

***

If i remember correctly, at some point basilisks were hunted by the witches (because of their abilities?) and were thought to be extinct. But let's say there were some survivors who went into hiding: some chose to live as animals, some distanced themselves from any civilization, some fled the isles altogether, and others decided to live amongst the witches. This was the hardest option, as those were still suspicious around possible basilisks lurking around (basilisk hunts?).

But Samite, a rather prideful individual, still made this decision. Maybe because they wanted to spite the witches by evading any attempts at being outed. This wasn't always successful, as evident by many scars on their body.

Naturally, they harbor resentment for the witchkind! And maybe grow a desire to avenge their species! However, they are but a lone basilisk on an island full of witches. So have to lay low for now.

***

the main thing that kept Samite and Philip together through the ages was hatred for witches. and the fact that each knows the other's identity (better know if that slips)... and their extensive (and horribly failed) attempts at being their usual lying, manipulative selves with each other, cuz it takes one to know one.

they're fully aware that any of them will ditch the other in any situation that might imply personal gain, but so far there's been none such incidents.

i suppose it's paying for Belos to have a perfect spy who'd alert him of any concerning disturbances amongst the castle's residents.

and Izzie's on the roll, participating in gossip, picking on rookie scouts and awaiting justice for their kind.

as for the little basilisks: here's my honest proposal

[hyperpotamianarch]

Well, I can hardly believe I chose this to be my fourth original post, but meh, who cares. Anyway, random note about Howell Jenkins!

Firstly, I'm talking about book Howl, which is why I spelled it Howell - this is his original name, he changed it in Ingary to sound more impressive. He's actually from Wales, which honestly means little to me as someone who never set foot in Britain, but I think I get the general gist of it.

Many things can be said of Howl. He's not really a noble and gentle, if slightly narcissistic, person as you might think after watching the movie. He's mostly a selfish coward, likes to woo ladies but seemingly afraid of commitment, is very bad with money, and... Umm... Yeah, there are other posts that do a better job than I am in characterizing Howl. That's not what I'm here to talk about. Suffice it to say that he's somehow likable in spite of all these flaws.

What I am here to talk about, however, is two common misconceptions about Howl that are somewhat related to the flaws listed above: one is that Howl is running away from student debt and didn't finish his doctorate, and the other is that he invented the titular Moving Castle to evade taxes. While those actions are indeed in character for Howl, they are both contradicted by the book itself (to a degree).

To start with the first one: Howell only talks about his thesis once in the book - when explaining to miss Angorian, an English teacher, why he has a magic spell. Book readers likely know who I'm talking about, and for non book readers, I'm afraid I'll leave the rest of the context to your imagination. Either way, Howell tells miss Angorian that she may have heard that he wrote his doctoral thesis on charms and spells. Notice, "wrote". As in past tense.

To be fair, that doesn't necessarily mean he finished his doctorate. As a matter of fact, it could be a rumor he started in order to explain away why he had spell books. It certainly won't be the first rumor Howl started for his own convenience. But if it tells us anything about him having a doctorate, it tells us he finished it. I don't know much about student loans in UK during the 80's, so that isn't a point I can say anything about, but I am given to understand it was less of a problem.

So, did Howl run away from his doctorate to the magical land if Ingary? No, he didn't. He actually kind of fulfilled every nerd's dream of both doing what he likes most and using it to write his doctoral thesis, killing two birds with one stone. To be honest, what I still don't get is why he kept contact with his old world. I mean, Suliman seems to have cut ties - we never hear of him going back. But Howl, even if we didn't see him use the black door as much at first, seems to keep some contact with his sister and her family, keep a car etc. He might only visit rarely, but he still does.

Anyway, for the second misconception I decided to bring in the big guns: a direct book quote about why the moving castle. Not all quotes on the topic, though, because I'm lazy. Anyway, look here:

This is in chapter four of HMC. It's revealed later in the book that the "someone very powerful" is actually the Witch of the Waste. So, the Moving Castle is there to show everyone what a Horrible and Powerful Wizard Howl is. Also, to avoid attention from the Witch of the Waste.

Sophie herself, in the next paragraph, questions the usefulness of such a tactic. I think it might actually be an explanation of why Howl decided the Castle had to be moving - maybe it's harder to magically detect that way, I don't know. Either way, it's not to avoid taxes - especially considering the fact Howl has an address in Kingsbury, the capital of Ingary, and that this address is known to the local authorities.

I would also like to prematurely dispell an almost plausible headcanon: Sophie's hat-sewing causes so much of the plot, after all. So you might be tempted, when reading that she told a hat that someone should set Howl and the Witch up together, to think that she's responsible for that as well. However, considering the quote presented above, it appears that Howl and the Witch dated before Howl created the Moving Castle, which was the inciting incident for Sophie hearing about him. Thus, Sophie is not guilty whatsoever of getting Howl and the Witch together - just of being oddly on point.

Thank you for reading, and have a good day!

[birchbow]

I’ve been thinking about drones and just the whole logistics of it all. They’ve got to pick up two contributions from every troll? One after another? So presumably the pails get filled ahead of time. Would a troll have enough time to help out more than one pitch/flush partner if there’s an odd number of trolls total? Or is someone just SOL if they’re on a ship with an odd number of trolls? Oh hell, on the dark carnival there’s sometimes prisoners - and jeez, what about them?? Ah this got kind of dark and now I’m second guessing sending it, but I’m curious about your thoughts, feel free to ignore if you like!

These ARE the questions lol. I've been hammering away and I'm putting together a theory I will call the Tax Fraud Drone Theory and I am figuring pieces of it out as I type this at two AM, lol. CW of course for drone-season/fuck-or-die related discussion because: terrible bug aliens from hellmurder planet.

tl;dr, drones are a basic system that expects to hit up trolls in tribal/village numbers and slowly, methodically iterate their way through. Their system isn't evolved for modern trollish community structures, and often won't have the storage capacity to hit every single troll or couple (especially in a whole city) before they head back to the Mother Grub--so you can gamble and get by with one quadrant. OR even dodge them completely, but the contagious effect of their pheromonal presence will make you real sorry if you do! Further extensive rambling under the cut.

SO: a concept.

The basic function of drones is to follow the pheromonal/scent trail of trolls to a population center and go down the line demanding donations. (Theoretically, hitting different areas of the planet in waves, always coming and going, so the whole population isn't incapacitated at once.)

in situations that would have been natural when trolls were first established as a species, drones would largely find you living in groups ranging from a small travelling clade to a manageably village-sized collection of hives, SO:

In those circumstances, the drones could simply progress logically from iteration to iteration, prioritizing people who haven't contributed and then starting over with the people who have had the longest break since their first contribution, until pitch and flush contributions have been collected from everybody and/or the people who can't keep up have been culled.

(Presumably people who were near the start of the chain and already checked both boxes sometimes find it in their heart/spades to flip pitch or flush with an unlucky straggler, although that's risky if you don't genuinely think you can summon up a compatible enough match to satisfy the drones)

This is part of the reason drone pheromones send trolls into such an altered state, because odds are good you'll have to be in the mood for a hot second while the drones work their way around your community, and also will have to fuck several times.

Plus, I could imagine it's not unheard-of on-planet for one drone to finish up and then another one to show up a day later, attracted by the increased number of trolls and their much "louder" pheromonal signature! If we assume the drones are a semi-sentient purpose-driven messenger evolved to serve the Mother Grub (which I do haha) it's not like they would have a database.

(Drone pheromones would also function as a sort of indirect, auxillary means of reinforcing their purpose--not having quadrants to bone down with when drones are around is harshly physically/ mentally taxing and even if you managed to evade them and/or lock yourself up alone, most trolls will be fucked up enough they'll end up culled shortly afterward anyway.)

While trolls can't produce drone pheromones themselves, they're triggered by it to involuntarily produce a similar substance, which is notably incredibly "contagious" to other trolls around them, so even one drone in an area can have far-reaching ripple effects of Horny Time

BUT: Even prior to the Rebellion of Beasts, in semi-modern Alternia, trolls often lived in much larger cities than the drones' basic biology and capabilities could iterate combinations for, and so they would just continue to fill buckets from the next "fresh" troll they caught a whiff of, preferentially alternating pitch and flush, until all the drones dispatched to the area had reached capacity.

THUS: while it's still crucial to have strong quadrants filled if you want to be relatively safe, not every troll will be necessarily be demanded to consummate both, but WATCH OUT

Basically in the same way that you COULD falsify your taxes, but you could get audited at any time and then you're fucked, you CAN go into drone season with just one quadrant (or even no quadrants at all if you're feeling incredibly lucky and live in a super crowded area). BUT if the drones happen to get to the end of a chain of quadrants and end up next door, and you're the nearest relatively "fresh" troll they sniff out, you're dead meat.

It's also possible to physically lock yourself away from the drones but it requires heavy fortifications--it's also wildly illegal and grounds for immediate culling, and fiercely policed by the community, since every troll that tries that shit makes it that much harder and more deadly for everybody else.

If you get caught by your neighbors building some kind of panic room or something you are IMMEDIATELY under intense scrutiny and you BETTER be seen out and about every single drone season. Or a neighbor is likely to take things into their own hands and take you out of the gene pool themself.

While usually the exponentially-increasing privilege of the hemospectrum makes higher bloods exempt from shit like that, the exponentially decreasing physical numbers of colder bloods means that a different kind of social pressure is leaning on highbloods, a more noblesse oblige expectation that you'll do your part to keep the ruling classes populated with fresh blood from powerful couplings.

That said, a rare few especially powerful or crucial members of the empire can be ruled exempt by the empress, which basically just means she says explicitly that you get to build a bunker and lock your door when the drones come around--along with one or two other trolls For Your Health.

The Grand Highblood, a handful of seadwellers from her court that don't tideally suck, and any especially competent imperial generals of the various divisions of her army tend to fall under exemption, although she'll revoke it off-handed if you fuck up, so there's a lot of impetus to stay on top of your game.

In modern Post-Rebellion Alternia, trolls out on the farthest warfronts have increasing amounts of time between drone seasons, because the drones have to fly out from Alternia, track down ships and then fly all the way back. This is one of the many ways the empire encourages people to get way the fuck out onto the frontlines.

But they could still show up at any time, including to ships actively on the war front, so like. you better watch out you better watch out YOU BETTER WATCH OUT YOU BETTER--

In cases like the Church Fleet as I've written it, where there are prisoners present on-ship, it's just kind of expected that their lives are going to hornily suck absolute shit for several days while the drones are on-board, but the fortifications to keep prisoners secure also do keep the drones out.

In pursuit of not having prisoners die prematurely of dehydration and exhaustion, which is a very real risk if you're just locked up by yourself alone during drone season, I'd guess a lot of ships with prisoners just kind of throw them in groups into cells with extra food/water supplies and come back to pick up the pieces after the drones are gone again.

In some ways, a better way to spend the drone season than most free trolls, because you're locked up and don't have to worry about the drones! But also: kind of a nightmare hahaaa @_@ And also you're still a troll prisoner so like. You're going to die eventually anyway.

It's not good! But like, what about the Alternian empire is tbh. Hell society of the murder-bugs.

Bonus concept I'm chewing on: pheromone trails are a workable sollution on-planet, but basically impossible to follow all the way out into space--the reason the drones can find you no matter how far away you run to set up a colony is that the Mother Grub and her drones actually folded the Glb'golyb into a symbiotic relationship early in Alternian history/troll evolution. Her psychic connection to every troll in the empire means that they can get general positioning data from her and then hone in by smell when they arrive within direct sensory range. The Mother Grub gets to fulfill her purpose, and Glb'golyb basically farms trolls and lusii for food, taking her tithe of flesh from the Mother Grub's worker bees trolls (the general population).

[ant1quarian]

Courage Sans

A guy from one of my AU's, called Chancetale

Courage comes from a corrupted AU (That quickly collapsed and became part of the anti-void) but he lives in a place called the "Scattervoid."

Headcanons below the cut

So, to start it all, this dude is 8’2” , right?

Which means he stands a solid head-and-shoulders taller than the humans around him ( If not, more.)

… Which means if some person (monster or human, he doesn’t distinguish) is being racist, rude, or is in his way, he’ll just pick them up by the head/torso and shift them out of his path

While he used to be highly confrontational, now he’s just… peaceful. Not kind, per se, but peaceful. Capable of great damage, but simply chooses not to

Due to the state of his magic, any gravity magic or magic that effects his SOUL will usually like charge up and then explode outwards in a magic blow-out.

While this does render him incapable of using his magic for a period of time, it can often kill those around him and will completely destroy anything within a certain radius.

He’s basically a guard dog with a soft side. Angry, menacing, scary, but so, so sweet when you earn his trust and loyalty

Refuses to talk about his AU.

In a different reality, where the AUs get clumped together into a singular universe, he would introduce himself with his name, and sometimes saying that he comes from a place called the “Scattervoid.”

Classic gets really annoyed at him when Courage tackfully evades (read: really fucking bluntly and obviously) talking about his past or his AU.

Courage is… incredibly blunt. He’ll say things as it is and won’t sugar-coat anything, no matter how horrible it is

He also always offers his completely honest opinion on something, and seems to simply just… not get embarrassed.

Courage can play both the harmonica, and the electric and acoustic guitar. During the time where he isn’t working (which is a rare thing to experience, really), you’ll usually find him picking away a song on his guitar

Courage rarely uses bone attacks or weapons, and generally relies on his own strength and speed. He has a good reason to, as well, as his magic (although incredibly powerful) is very taxing. This and his natural reflexes he’s honed to a sharp point, so he doesn’t really need the magic.

… this being talked about, this also implies that if he’s attacking he’ll just…

… use the talons he has for fingertips.

[flirtatious-slenderman]

Would you like to go evade taxes together and possibly bomb abandoned buildings with me?

- @trendermanthepoet

ABSOLUTELY 💕

You know just the right things to say to me darling 💕