#((while dorian was still able to be a kid despite the responsibilities he had to learn to deal with as he got older!))

[zeldas-cigarette-holder]

Ahh, your headcanons! <33 Thank you for sharing them. I was wondering (after reading that one about Zelda unexpectedly finding herself somewhat dreaming about the idea of having children with Faustus) if you have any headcanons of that actually happening? Spellwood or, with a little help of a bit of magic or something, Madam Spellman?

Thank you!

I’ve planned on writing a fic that ties into both of these sets, but for now have some headcanons! Gonna stick these under a read more & two separate categories because this got long and also make their own separate posts if people wanna save/rb just one pairing! xx

Spellwood + a baby(ies)

- Where their relationship is concerned, everything is measured out and carefully calculated — it’s just the way they are. While I’m not entirely sure how witch birth control works, I’m sure she’s extremely diligent about her medication, potions, whatever it may be — she’s not the sort of person to have any sort of accidents, especially those she can control. Zelda hides her careful planning, weighs out every pro and con before even considering bringing it up to him.

- When she does decide to bring it up to him, she has a piece of scrap paper with unintelligible scribbles all over it and the sheer look on her face, her hands trembling holding her little scrap of wobbly, folded a million times piece of paper makes Faustus chuckle. She takes it as a bad response, retreats into herself and decides to table it — he mustn’t be too interested anyways, life is good with Leticia and Judas, Ambrose and Sabrina, why would they change anything?

- Faustus knows something is bothering her, and she blatantly lies through her teeth every time he asks. It only serves to frustrate him more, and drives him to tangle with sex demons at Dorian’s Gray Room. When she catches him (because she always will), she’s absolutely devastated because she has the same crumpled paper of pros and cons in her hand, tosses it at him and storms away before she lets the tears fall. It isn’t that she feels like he’s cheating on her, it’s the fact that she feels like he couldn’t have one serious conversation with her (because she sucks at feelings and would never actively start the conversation).

- She’s hurt, and it takes her a long time to come back from that sort of hurt. It’s the kind that makes her ache for a future lost even though she never tried to actively discuss it. But she’s stubborn, and she knows that he knows and it somehow makes her feel worse. He knows the deepest maternal desire she tried to hide for centuries and she isn’t quite sure how she feels about it.

- Of course she wants kids with him, and he feels so stupid that he didn’t realize sooner. She’s always been so maternal, such a good natured person (though a bit brash and irrational at times). Faustus knows he fucked up, carries around the tattered paper with him tucked in his pocket and it feels like lead. Her scratched out writing with little doodles of hearts is enough to melt his heart, and he knows just how lucky he is that she even allowed herself a moment to fantasize about a family with him.

- Faustus seeks out Hilda for help because she is the only person (other than him) that Zelda has ever divulged anything remotely personal to. She isn’t happy with him — especially not when he recounts how she threw the paper at him, though he suspects she’s known for a while by the way she raises her eyebrow — but she does try to help him, but she’s adamant that she won’t do it for him. She reminds him of how Zelda is, how she feels things with her entire heart and soul, and that she’s probably embarrassed that she felt shut down.

- It takes Faustus a few torturous days to think of what to do to make it up to her — to bring the conversation to the table again — and every passing day feels worse. She’s not talking to him, turns the other way when he comes to bed, and he pretends he doesn’t see the mascara streaked down her face. He settles on making his own list of pros and cons — his side of cons is much shorter than hers, and he knows she’ll think it’s because he’s irrational — leaves it on her desk tied with a ribbon, a box of truffles, and a fresh bouquet of white roses.

- Zelda doesn’t acknowledge it for a few days, needs her time to go over his list in comparison to her own because she’s nothing if not careful and methodical in everything she does. She sleeps at the mortuary and it’s torture — she hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since before he found her list — and she realizes that after all this time, she can’t sleep without his stupid snoring in her ear, her head nestled in the crook of his neck. What finally makes her crack is when the sun is rising and she hadn’t slept for the third night in a row, and she knows she needs him regardless of everything else.

- She slips into their bed and curls against his sleeping body and satan, it feels like everything good in the world — he feels like coming home, smells like all of her favorite scents, feels so strong and safe — and she’s suddenly sobbing into his chest without restraint. Faustus wakes enough to rub her back and let her cry it out — knows she won’t be able to speak past the knot in her throat until she lets out all of that pent up emotion, knows the tears aren’t all because of the situation — and presses gentle kisses to her hair when she’s finally out of tears and sniveling herself to sleep in his arms.

- They don’t get a chance to sit and talk until the next evening, and it’s torturous for them both. They’re both rational and mostly level-headed, and knowing there’s so much to say but no time or privacy to say it is the worst part. She works later than him, despite him being the High Priest, and he takes the opportunity to make her a nice dinner with her favorite aged bourbon and fresh flowers.

- There’s a secret smile when she sits down and picks up her glass — tells him that would be the last bottle of bourbon she drinks for a while. He’s not sure it’s an answer so much as a joke, cocks his head in confusion over the way she laughs at some joke he doesn’t entirely understand, but Zelda has always been an enigma in and of herself.

- Zelda, in true Zelda-like fashion, isn’t completely sure — even when the answer from both of them is a yes. She needs time to roll it around in her head, to decide if it’s something she truly wants. She’s afraid to bring it up again — afraid that she took too long and will be shut down — but she lets herself sink into that secret fantasy of having a true family, growing his child. She contemplates going about it irresponsibly, not taking her birth control and being a little reckless, but ultimately decides against it. She isn’t the same level of desperate as she was when she stole saved Leticia, she wouldn’t dare betray his trust again.

- When Zelda finally lets it slip that yes, she wants his child more than anything, it’s in the throes of passion and he thinks she’s joking. It’s a rare instance in which they’re making love, not fucking, and he’s whispering in her ear — crooning about how perfect she is, how perfect their life is, how he can’t wait to spend the rest of his earthly life with her. She’s sure, knows that she can’t imagine anything but this perfect life with him, and tells him to cum inside of her, to get her pregnant.

- He doesn’t believe her at first, but she’s so earnest and trusting with wide, sparkling eyes and this passion and he knows, he knows she’s sure. They spend the rest of the night making a baby in various positions. It’s a lighthearted they haven’t experienced in ages, and Zelda can’t help but fall a little more in love with him.

- When she’s finally pregnant, after what felt like months and months of trying, she’s filled with some sort of renewed hope she didn’t know she needed. She has to refrain from running to him with the positive test, wants to make sure everything is okay first.

- She doubts a lot — her body, her mind, her ability to be a good mother, the fact that she’s even pregnant to begin with — but it’s easier when he knows. It brings a softer side to their relationship, not the same biting remarks and constant teasing they’re both used to. He’s good to her — sweet and everything she needs — and she almost feels guilty when she snaps because he forgot to get her a snack or a drink.

- It turns out twins run in Faustus’ family. Zelda wishes she knew before she got pregnant, though she wouldn’t change a single thing — is finally blissfully happy.

Madam Spellman + a baby

- It takes Zelda a long time to even be open to discussing getting pregnant, after everything that happened with Faustus, Leticia, baby Judas, and Sabrina’s raising. There are variables to consider, and she’s very cautious and careful about everything she does. She trusts Lilith with her entire soul and being — trusts Lilith so much it scares her — but she trusted Faustus too and that makes it even worse, knowing that at any point she could betray her the same way he did.

- Their relationship develops after Sabrina’s death, and though it’s been years by the time they’re married and ready to settle down, the wounds are still there. It’s something Lilith brings up in passing while rubbing Zelda’s feet on the lounge while drinking and enjoying the rare free time they got, and Zelda finds herself more and more open to the idea of a child — especially with Lilith.

- Lilith is good and sweet and kind and everything Zelda wants to spend the rest of her life with — Satan, she married her after she swore to never marry again — but the idea of children together is quite honestly terrifying. This is still the same Lilith who killed baby Adam, though it was for good reason, and she’s still the same Zelda who stole saved baby Leticia only to pass her along to Dezmelda.

- The wounds from Sabrina’s passing are too raw for them to consider it seriously for years, but Lilith likes to remind Zelda that they have time. Still, it’s like things never get truly better. Zelda grieves her daughter, and Lilith grieves just the same for that maternal relationship she developed with Sabrina. She loved her so much it hurt, despite every single horrible thing she had done and regrets so deeply that it keeps her up at night

- In true Sabrina fashion, she is the catalyst for almost everything in Lilith and Zelda’s relationship, and a child is no different.

- They had tried to summon her several times over the years, to call on her in any way they could — witching board, seance, trying to reach into that in between and pull her out — but nothing ever seemed to work. They never gave up hope, and when she does come to them it’s with her blessing to move on, to move past their hang ups relating to her, to be happy and start the family they’ve both always wanted.

- It’s easier said than done, and there’s still so much hesitation. Would the universe truly give them happiness after everything they had been through? It takes lots of long conversations and tears — so many tears for everything they had sacrificed, everyone they had lost, and everyone they had loved — before they come to the decision that they would try for a baby, they’d allow themselves the shred of happiness they had always wanted.

- There’s still so much to consider for Zelda and Lilith just doesn’t understand why. She feels everything with her whole heart and she’s impulsive, falls in love with ideas and follows through before thinking of the practicality behind it. It’s how she ends up in so many tricky situations — rash ideas and passionate thoughts fueled by love or self preservation— but Zelda is rational and collected even with the most passionate subjects, she needs to think of every possible outcome.

- Zelda is the one with hard limits and ultimatums, especially because of Sabrina. She blames the entirety of Sabrina’s death on the fact that she was a gift from Lucifer Morningstar combined with her being half mortal. It makes choosing a donor for their baby so difficult, and it makes choosing who would carry even more difficult. It causes arguments that end with both of them in tears because Zelda is so scared and Lilith doesn’t want to think of every single bad thing that could potentially not even happen.

- When they finally come to some semblance of a decision, they settle on the fact that Zelda would carry for a multitude of reasons. She had never carried her own child, she wasn’t of divine origin, it was the safest bet.

- Deciding on a donor was even harder. Zelda originally wanted to use Dr. Cee, because she was comfortable with him and could have some fun out of it, but he was ordinarily mortal (given the gift of immortality by Lilith, because she knew how much he meant to Hilda) and they were terrified of having a half mortal, half witch child. Faustus was another option presented by Lilith, but she didn’t want the first thing to do with him, nor a child of his origin. Several handsome demons from hell were also mentioned, though Zelda was adamantly against those as well. Lilith thinks she’s being purposely combative, it stirs up a lot of feelings in them that are hard to push past. They flip through the people that they’d feel comfortable with using and no one seems quite right. It puts them at an impasse for several months. No one is good enough, and they won’t compromise in either direction — it leads them to spend ages looking over ancient textbooks for an answer that would seemingly never come.

- There was one option they hadn’t considered — Melvin — and when Lilith suggests it, Zelda balks at her. But it’s a viable option, albeit uncomfortable, and they decide that he would be a suitable donor for their baby. Their coven is mostly females, and he’s one of the only sane options.

- Zelda is adamant on legally binding contracts signed by all before anything can be put into motion, because having a sense of solution and finality on the situation is scary for her, and Lilith is — again — unsure as to why it even matters. That’s the hard thing about being married to Zelda, she can’t believe the good in Lilith even though she’s proven time and time again that her anxieties are rooted in a past with someone who was much worse than her. It’s another point of conflict, and it stirs up a lot of passionate tears. Zelda cries because Faustus loved her and he still ripped everything away from her — the children she loved, the home they shared — because she was suddenly unworthy and Lilith cries because she thinks Zelda doesn’t trust her.

- In the end, Lilith decides that it’s only fair to agree to the contracts Zelda is so adamant about. It makes sense when she thinks about it, but she loathes to admit it. Melvin can’t have any rights — nor does Zelda want to think about him as the father, but it’s better than not knowing who it is — Zelda and Lilith have equal rights. The thought makes Zelda smile this sad, watery twitch of her lips that breaks Lilith’s heart, and she realizes that every child Zelda had ever dared let herself love was brutally ripped from her. After Zelda falls asleep that night, once the contracts were signed by all, Lilith excuses herself to the porch and cries openly and unabashedly — she cries for Zelda’s losses, for her own losses, for the pain and anguish and unbearable pasts they both had — and she finds Zelda sitting at the kitchen table with a tear streaked face when she finally gathers herself enough to go inside.

- They’re both fucking terrified from the moment their daughter is conceived until the day she’s born. Hell is no place for a newborn, and Lilith is afraid of having to step away and relinquish control, even if only for a few weeks. Zelda is scared of childbirth, of their daughter dying, of Lilith leaving her, of the issues they’d face raising their child. Lilith assures her everything would be okay, and she’s cautious to believe it.

- Pregnancy sucks and Zelda vows that she’ll never do it again as long as she lives. She hates not drinking, not smoking, gaining the weight, the fact that she can’t eat sweets whenever she wants. Lilith is doting and sweet and perfect, massages Zelda’s feet and makes her non-alcoholic drinks and watches trash television with her to pass the time. She takes up knitting for their baby — even when on her throne in Hell — and it’s so damn sweet that Zelda tears up every time she brings home a new blanket.

#whoop these are so fucking long I’m so sorry #and they kinda suck #I basically wrote two mini fics #oops #headcanons #madam spellman #Spellwood #zelda spellman #faustus blackwood #Lilith #my writing

[potatowitch]

Hawke as Companion

Template by @little-lightning-lavellan

Is your OC a Companion in the Dragon Age series? What would it be like for a player to select them to join their party for quests (or romance them, perhaps? 👀)

I did originally plan on doing this for my Inquisitor but, as always, I've got Hawke brainrot instead, and I figured writing some companion interactions would be so much more interesting with her as a companion than my Lavellan. This got .... very long.

You have selected RIAN to join your party!

Race: HUMAN

Gender: FEMALE

Class: MAGE

Specialization: BLOOD MAGE

BACKGROUND

Marian Elaine Hawke, known also as “Rian”, “Chuckles”, “Champion of Kirkwall” and “Hawke, NO” was born in 9:06 Dragon to Malcolm and Leandra Hawke. Despite having to keep her father's magic a secret, she was never led to believe that magic was anything but a gift. Therefore, she spent much of her younger years experimenting to see if she could produce magic, eventually managing at age 9 to light the fireplace with a tiny fireball.

Growing up, she was attached to Malcolm at the hip - the two of them shared not only their magic but their senses of humor and general chaotic energy.

After the Hawke family fled Lothering during the Blight, Hawke joined Athenril’s smugglers to pay off her entry into Kirkwall. As soon as she met Varric at the start of Act 1, they became inseparable best friends - Hawke often cites Varric as her soulmate and the platonic love of her life. During the Deep Roads expedition, Carver became infected with the Blight, and with the help of Anders, Hawke was able to lead him to the Grey Wardens so he could join their ranks.

Over the years, she developed close relationships with most of her companions except for Aveline and Sebastian. Her friendship with Merrill eventually developed into a committed romance, and Hawke started to practice blood magic after recognising that Merrill could do so without being "evil". The two of them eventually also developed feelings for Isabela, and as such she joined their romance as well.

By Act 3, Hawke had become a staunch supporter of mage rights, a dedicated member of the Underground, and wholeheartedly supported Anders’ choice to destroy Kirkwall’s Chantry.

Following the destruction of the Chantry, Hawke and her friends fled Kirkwall, splitting up despite Hawke desperately wanting them to remain together. Isabela and Merrill chose to remain with Hawke, and the three of them traveled across the Free Marches, occasionally running into Anders and assisting him in rescuing mages from rebelling Circles. Eventually, Isabela managed to acquire a new crew, and her partners were more than happy to sail with her as she established herself once again as the Queen of the Eastern Seas.

INQUISITION

Depending on the player’s choices in Here Lies The Abyss, Hawke can be convinced to stay and help the Inquisition further instead of accompanying the remaining Wardens to Weisshaupt, becoming a full companion. She will move to sit with Varric by the fire in the main hall. Hawke will also be present in Varric’s companion cutscene where he invites the Inquisitor to play Wicked Grace.

Upon first being recruited to the Inquisition, Hawke’s specialisation is not available - when automatically leveled, she will put points primarily into the Inferno and Storm trees. Her unique specialisation, Blood Mage, only becomes available if the Inquisitor has allied with the mages at Redcliffe. At that point, Hawke will initiate a conversation with the Inquisitor about their opinions on blood magic, and if the Inquisitor states that they have no problem with it, her specialisation will open. Otherwise, she will refuse to admit her use of blood magic to the Inquisitor.

At this point, Hawke will also speak more openly about her support of Anders. She will eventually admit that they are still in contact, though she won't tell the Inquisitor anything that could give them an idea of Anders’ whereabouts.

Her specialisation is not open to the Inquisitor, however Hawke can offer to teach a mage Inquisitor "a neat trick", which will give the player the choice to replace their current Focus ability with Hawke's.

BLOOD MAGE

Upon unlocking Hawke's specialisation, she will gain a large increase to her Constitution but her mana bar will become considerably shorter, and conventional healing effects will only operate at 25% efficiency. If she is out of mana, she will automatically revert to using her health pool to power her spells instead.

Her spell tree is very similar to the Dragon Age 2 Blood Mage tree, however it does not include the Blood Slave ability - it is instead replaced with Blood Bomb, which is a variant of Walking Bomb. Instead of applying a damage over time curse to a target, Hawke channels a spell that corrupts the targets' blood from the inside until the target dies - at which point they explode, doing damage to nearby enemies. This spell continually consumes Hawke's mana and health while it is being channeled.

Her Focus ability is Major Sacrifice, a variant of the Knight-Enchanter's Resurgence. Instead of healing the party to full health and providing an ongoing healing aura, Major Sacrifice will instead heal the party to full health but take 25% of Hawke's current health, and will provide an aura of ongoing damage to nearby enemies, converting their health into health for the party.

VARRIC'S PERSONAL QUEST IN VALAMMAR

If the Inquisitor brings Hawke to Valammar, she will be suspiciously quiet throughout the quest - though she will pipe up to complain about the Darkspawn. Following the reveal that Bianca shared the location of the thaig, Hawke will be furious and will argue with her.

Upon returning to Skyhold and speaking to Varric, the cutscene will begin in the middle of a conversation between him and Hawke.

HAWKE: You deserve better, you know. VARRIC: Yeah, you've said that before. HAWKE: It bears repeating. As many times as it takes to get it through your thick head. You deserve so much better. VARRIC: *sigh* Thanks, Chuckles.

APPROVAL AND ROMANCE

Hawke is not romanceable, though she welcomes playful flirting from a female Inquisitor. She will eventually initiate a conversation where she makes sure the Inquisitor isn't expecting the flirting to go anywhere further, as she is already in a relationship.

RIAN APPROVES OF: Supporting mage freedom, open-mindedness with magic and spirits, sarcasm, humor, stealing from nobility, pranking nobility, loyalty to your friends, being nice to Varric, terrible puns.

RIAN DISAPPROVES OF: Chantry rhetoric, the Circles, Templars, Tranquility, authority, betraying your friends, ignorance, pomposity, being mean to Varric.

Hawke will not leave the Inquisition, even if her approval is at Hostile. When questioned about this, she will say:

HAWKE: Did you miss the part where Corypheus is my responsibility? I’m going to fix my fuck-up, Inquisitor. If I have to put up with you while I do it, then, well … I’ve always said the Maker has a sick sense of humor.

TRESPASSER

Following Corypheus' defeat, Hawke leaves the Inquisition to rejoin Merrill and Isabela.

Once Trespasser is started, Hawke can be found accompanying Varric and Bran to the Winter Palace.

During exploration of the Eluvians, if both Hawke and Varric are in the party, they will briefly discuss how excited Merrill would be by all this, and Hawke will say "You'd better be writing all this down, Varric."

She will approve of redeeming Solas, though she won't disapprove if the Inquisitor decides they would rather kill him.

High Approval

If Varric has chosen to give the Inquisitor an estate in Kirkwall, Hawke will pipe up during the conversation saying she's excited to be neighbors, offering to give the Inquisitor the key to her wine cellar - though she will complain that Varric has never given her control of the harbor, to which Bran will mutter "thank the Maker".

Regardless of the Inquisition's fate, Hawke will return to her lovers, occasionally keeping in touch with the Inquisitor via letters.

Low Approval

If the Inquisitor has low approval with Hawke, they will be informed that she left as soon as the Inquisitor stepped back out of the Eluvian following the final confrontation with Solas. The epilogue slides will state that her whereabouts are, once again, unknown.

COMBAT COMMENTS

Killing an enemy

And stay down!

One more for me. We’re keeping score, right?

Have at you!

How’s my hair looking? (COMBAT ENDS)

I wonder what’s in their pockets. (COMBAT ENDS)

Oh, ew. I’m not cleaning that up. (COMBAT ENDS)

Low Health

This is going badly!

Little help, maybe?

Why are none of you healers?

This hurts! This really hurts!

Low Health (Companions)

INQUISITOR: You good over there, boss?

VARRIC: Varric, that blood better not be yours!

COLE: Help the kid!

CASSANDRA: They’re swarming the Seeker!

BLACKWALL: Hang on, Beardy!

IRON BULL: Bull’s in trouble!

Fallen Companions

INQUISITOR: Shit! Trevelyan/Lavellan/Adaar/Cadash is down!

VARRIC: Don’t you dare leave me now, Varric!

COLE: Cole! No!

CASSANDRA: Seeker is down! How did they manage that?

SOLAS: Come on, Solas!

DORIAN: Help Dorian!

SERA: Awful quiet, isn’t it? Oh shit, Sera!

LOCATION COMMENTS

(first time seeing a High Dragon) *laughing* "Oh, this will be fun!" IF VARRIC IS IN THE PARTY: "Hawke, the last time you fought one of these you nearly died." "Yeah, but I didn't die. That's the important thing."

(approaching a campsite) "Well ... I've slept in worse places."

(when collecting a Shard) "Let me guess. We have to collect a stupid amount of these for a really stupid reason, and they're all going to be in really stupid, hard to reach places. *sighs* I love adventuring."

HINTERLANDS

"Have we been here before? Feels like we've been here before."

(upon unlocking the cabin in Redcliffe with the Tranquil skulls) "That's ... fucking Maker. Tranquil have always made me uncomfortable but ... they were still people. They were still... shit, I need a second."

FALLOW MIRE

"Eugh, that smell! Worse than my dog when he's eaten cheese, and that's saying something."

(upon killing Widris) "Something, something, crazy mages ... "

"Oh, walking corpses. That's nice."

STORM COAST

(upon seeing the dragon vs giant fight) *laughing* "Oh, that's brilliant!"

"Not to sound like Varric, but why are there so many bloody hills around here? My legs hurt."

EXALTED PLAINS

"Maker, I hate Orlais."

(finding Valorin's corpse) *sighs* "Might sound a little hypocritical coming from me, but ... blood magic is not for the careless."

(seeing the ruined bridge, if Varric is in the party) "Hey Varric - " "Don't you dare, Hawke." "C'mon, please?" "You are not tossing me!" "Spoilsport."

EMERALD GRAVES

"I've always thought it was beautiful how the Dalish bury their dead under a tree sprout. Like ... I don't know, maybe death doesn't have to be the end."

HISSING WASTES

"There's sand in ... places. So many places."

"Have I said I hate sand? Because I hate sand."

EMPRISE DU LION

(seeing Red Lyrium) "Maybe don't touch that. It'll do all kinds of weird shit to you."

"I'm fucking freezing. When can we go home?"

(seeing Red Lyrium giants) "What the fuck?"

(Elfsblood River rift - near the lady with titsicles) *giggles*

SHRINE OF DUMAT

"I'm getting the weirdest sense of deja vu." IF VARRIC IS IN THE PARTY: "You're not the only one."

DEEP ROADS (THE DESCENT)

"Why do I always end up back in the Deep Roads? Am I cursed?"

COMPANION COMMENTS

VARRIC: "I was worried about what would happen if I brought her here, but ... it's nice to have Hawke around again."

CASSANDRA: "I have to admit, I do admire the Champion. A woman who built herself up from nothing to defeat the Arishok ... there's a certain romance to Varric's stories about her."

SOLAS: "I've been informed that Varric also calls Hawke "Chuckles". I ... don't see how we are similar."

DORIAN: "Hawke? Oh, I like her. She's not as daft as she acts."

BLACKWALL: "The other night, I found her getting teary-eyed in the tavern over how much she misses her dog. Don't quite know what to make of that, really."

VIVIENNE: "She is a powerful mage, I'll give her that, but she's also a naive fool. No wonder Kirkwall fell to pieces around her."

IRON BULL: "She's fun. Got a lot going on in that head she doesn't talk about, though."

COLE: "Fleeing, fighting, falling. Failed father, failed mother, failed Beth and Carver too. Fire and freedom, and she knows it's right but it still feels wrong. Old wounds that never healed, sometimes she can still taste the blood in her mouth. You chose to save her. She wishes you chose differently."

SERA: "Thought she'd be scary, but she makes me laugh. Hasn't let owning a mansion get to her head, either, and have you seen those arms? She's strong."

CULLEN: "I'd ... rather not talk about her, if you don't mind. We've a less than friendly history."

JOSEPHINE: "Lady Hawke is charming, certainly, but I cannot imagine her being popular amongst her neighbours in Hightown. She throws the very concept of decorum bodily out of the window."

LELIANA: "I knew her when she lived in Lothering. She didn't seem to like the Chantry much, but she was always sweet, and her jokes made me laugh. It's a little odd to see the woman she's grown into."

TRIVIA

Malcolm also made sure he trained Hawke in using a sword. She's not very good at it, preferring instead to use her staff as a melee weapon if an enemy gets too close.

She has a mean right hook.

Her and Varric have matching tattoos on their left buttcheeks.

Despite being Ferelden and adoring her own mabari, Hawke has a preference for cats.

She's awful at singing. She sings a lot anyway.

#oc as companion #who goes to weisshaupt instead of hawke? i don't know and i don't care #rian

[raleighcarrera]

29. Best Drunken Night vs Worst Drunken Night for Raleigh x MC perhaps? 🥺

best vs. worst prompts / 29. best drunken night vs. worst drunken night

the worst time 

“oh my god.” her voice is hushed -- awed, really, as she glances around the space they’ve closed themselves in with eyes so wide they feel likely to bug out of her head at any moment. “this is -- we’re in -- is this ariana spielman’s closet?”

cadence’s head whips around just in time to catch the disinterested, almost bored shrug of raleigh’s shoulders. “guess so.”

the door he’s leaning against is vibrating with the bass from the music blasting from downstairs. one of the silver buttons on raleigh’s jacket clanks against the wood loudly. 

“she has, like -- seventy birkin bags,” she breathes, slowly shaking her head as she takes in the expansive wall of purses to her right. “i can’t believe i’m in here. i can’t believe we’re even in her house.”

“i hate los angeles,” raleigh mumbles, pushing off from the wall and strolling over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. “this party sucks.”

admittedly, the party did sort of suck, but they’d had enough free drinks and free food to make the evening tolerable, even if the crowd at ariana’s house was mostly made up of the sort of c-list celebrities who were desperate to document everything on social media and tried to shove their cellphones in raleigh’s face every time he started mixing a drink.

it was never like this, at home in new york. most of their friends were cool and normal and while their parties were always the sort of events that kept them up until dawn they’d tended to be more low-key, lately, minimizing the amount of attention they got during what was supposed to be their down time.

out in LA everyone was looking for their fifteen minutes. so drinking downstairs with the rest of the crowd wasn’t just hanging out like it was in new york; it was a performance in and of itself. people were watching them, their thumbs already poised over a blank tweet.

she didn’t blame raleigh for disliking it. she disliked it, too. that was why she’d suggested finding some place they could be alone and let him drag her up here -- into ariana spielman’s beautiful, enormous closet.

cadence squeezes her hands affectionately on raleigh’s arms where they’re looped around her. “we can’t hook up in here.”

the sigh he expels into her ear is loud and exasperated. “why not?”

cadence lifts a hand to point up at the ceiling. “she has cameras.”

the pointed silence from behind her leads her to believe that raleigh doesn’t take issue with that as much as she does. “raleigh.”

“okay, okay. i’ll save it for the hotel. just -- i need a few minutes before we go back down there.”

she spins in his arms to look at his face. raleigh looks tired, in the awful in-between of drunk but not drunk enough. her expression softens.

ever-so-delicately, she leans in and presses her lips to the tip of his nose. raleigh sighs, tightening his grip on her. 

“you know,” cadence murmurs, “there was probably once a time where i wouldn’t have been able to drag you out of there even if i did want to have sex in ariana spielman’s closet.”

raleigh rolls his eyes. “untrue,” he argues, “i’d leave any party, anywhere, any time... for even five minutes alone with you.” there’s a beat where she tries to stifle her smile and he rolls his shoulders, pursing his lips before continuing, “but i know what you mean. i guess i just -- don’t see the appeal in playing along with all this fake shit.” his eyes focus on her face slowly, some of the cloud brought on by all the tequila they’d had downstairs lifting. “not anymore.”

she bounces up onto her tip-toes to kiss him, swallowing the drunk giggles that are threatening. if they weren’t going to commit, they probably should have drank a little bit less -- she’s wobbly and unsteady on her feet in a way that’s going to make their flight home tomorrow miserable, but not drunk enough to actually be having any fun at this party that is, admittedly, incredibly fucking lame.

raleigh’s hands squeeze her hips one last time before he pulls away. “we should probably go be seen for a little while longer, huh?”

her mouth twists sympathetically. “yeah. but we can leave in an hour.”

“here’s hoping.”

they shuffle back to the closed door together, though when raleigh reaches out for the handle it doesn’t budge, holding firmly in place. he frowns, jiggling the knob.

“what’s wrong?” she asks, blinking slowly, her brain struggling to process what’s happening.

raleigh’s frown deepens into a scowl. “i think it’s locked.”

“from the outside? no.” pushing his hand away, she tries the door, too, eyes widening when it holds resolutely still. “oh my god.”

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he says, stepping away with a groan. “can we call someone?”

“i don’t have her number. do you?”

she squeezes his shoulder as he pulls out his phone, mumbling to himself. her head is still swimming, but even she can understand that lately it feels like neither of them can quite catch a break -- there’s always something.

and she definitely had higher hopes for their weekend in LA, and even tonight. she’d expected this party to be a chance to get away from it all and let loose, not be some place where they had to constantly keep looking over their shoulders for cameras.

“maybe it’s a sign we should just stay up here,” she suggests, nuzzling her face into raleigh’s jacket. 

the hum he gives in response is equal parts interested and annoyed. “don’t tempt me.”

the best time

they’re definitely past capacity on their penthouse.

everywhere she looks there’s wall-to-wall people dancing and drinking, laughing and shouting. the floor beneath her feet feels like it’s shaking from how loud the music is.

raleigh’s standing on the countertop in their kitchen. his eyes light up when he sees her.

raising his voice to be heard above all the excitement, he screams, “cadence! come up here!”

the crowd parts to clear a path for her, cheering as she makes her way over. climbing up onto the counter in her miniskirt is far from the most graceful thing she’s ever done, especially after the bottle of wine she’d had at dinner and the four or five or forty-five martinis raleigh had poured her, but she manages, and soon she’s squeezed into the space beside their cabinets with her boyfriend and he’s got one strong arm slung warmly across her shoulders while the other lifts the bottle of dom in his left hand high enough that the top smacks into their kitchen ceiling.

“a toast!” raleigh declares, to the delight of the crowd below them. she tilts her head to grin at him and laughs loudly when raleigh glances at her out of the corners of his eyes and then grins back, wide and goofy like the both of them are in on the same private joke. “to the beautiful, phenomenal, exceptional, fantastic, talented --”

“jesus christ, raleigh.”

“ -- brilliant,” he continues, even more loudly, “can i get a drum roll please? thank you, visionary, otherworldly, and of course, devastatingly sexy vinyl award winning cadence dorian!”

he doesn’t give her a chance to bury her face in her hands like she so badly wants to. as soon as people start to cheer, he leans down and presses his lips forcefully against hers, smacking a loud, almost aggressive kiss onto her lips. 

then he shoves the bottle of champagne in her face and forces her to tilt her head back to accept the drink he’s quite literally pouring down her throat, her laughter giving way to coughs that make him laugh, too, the broad palm he’d had settled on her shoulder slowly making its way down her back to rest on the curve of her ass.

“to cadence!” roars someone again from the floor, and as everyone pounds their feet harder, she looks back to raleigh, flushed and grinning while he drains what’s left in the bottle and immediately switches it out for another. 

“speech!” raleigh crows into her ear, “speech, speech, speech --”

“oh my god, thank you everyone!” her palm claps over his mouth and doesn’t move even when his tongue licks across her hand slowly, back and forth and back again. “it means so much to celebrate with all of you tonight. thanks so much for coming and for all your support and -- remember that anything that happens here tonight was all raleigh’s fault, okay?”

the volume on the music increases as the crowd turns their attention back to dancing. raleigh slips both his arms around her waist from behind and presses up against her, somehow managing to stay on-beat with the swing of his hips despite the fact that he’s so drunk he can barely stand. she laughs as she rocks back against him, then laughs louder when he groans lowly into her ear.

“don’t think that you can get away with murder just ‘cause this party is for you, okay?” 

the words are said so quietly she almost misses them, each consonant soft and slurred. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“yeah, right,” raleigh counters, the sharp bark of his laugh punctuated by the way he presses forward firmly, the hard line of his body shiver-inducing even through the layers of fabric between them. “you think i’m just gonna let you get away with that? i’m --”

“you should at least get down, if you’re going to do that.” cadence blinks, glancing down to see zadie screaming up at the both of them. “we don’t all need to see you dry hump each other.”

raleigh’s arms tighten around her before she can even think about moving, though her face feels hot beyond just what the alcohol should’ve done to her. “hey,” he calls back, “it’s her party.”

she wiggles down to her knees, plucking the mostly full bottle of dom from raleigh’s hand and holding it out to zadie with her eyebrows arched. “call it even?”

“totally,” she agrees, taking the bottle from cadence and departing back into the living room with barely a wave over her shoulder. 

cadence moves the rest of the way down and slides to the edge, letting her legs dangle off the counter. within moments raleigh is beside her, gangly limbs tangled around her again near-immediately. “are you having fun?”

“best time of my life,” she answers honestly, though that was how parties with raleigh always felt -- like he was in constant competition with himself to outdo their last evening out together. “thanks for making this so special for me.”

“i’d do anything for you.” his voice is suddenly oddly serious, out of sorts with the playful mood he’s been in. she blinks at him, then laughs when he shatters the stillness as quickly as it’d come by ducking back in to steal another kiss. 

raleigh jumps off the counter abruptly, before she can deepen the kiss to something more extreme, and hooks her legs around his waist from behind. “c’mon, popstar,” he directs, before she can question what he’s doing, and as if on autopilot, her body swings onto his back so he can carry her, her hands finding his hair and her lips spreading into a delighted smile. “let’s go get you the kudos you deserve, eh?”

#raleigh carrera #platinum #raleigh carrera x mc #cadence dorian #raleigh x mc #raleigh x cadence #myfic #long post #choicesarehard #ok i know this is no raleigh serenading a fake-sick goldfish but i still hope you like it ❤️ #thanks for sending these queen

[weirdochick56]

Trapped- Campbell Eliot Imagine

Campbell Eliot x Reader

Warnings: Explicit language. Dark!Campbell (obviously)

Disclaimers: This isn’t a light character and this isn’t a light relationship or situation. This is dark and violent so please read with care if abusive situations aren’t your jam!

Word Count: 3,914 words

Summary: Campbell Eliot is your bestfriend’s, Sam, brother. He’s a disturbed individual who doesn’t feel emotions like the rest of you do. His gaze and heart are dark and sadistic and yet- you’re drawn to him. So when he comes looking for Elle and no one gives her up, he offers another aleternative; he’ll take you instead. But he’ll only keep you for a limited amount of time. If by the end of that time you still want to leave him, he’ll let you and Elle go-- definitively. If not, you’re his. Should be easy right?

***

(Gif is not mine!)

You lick your lips, flipping through another page of the book, eyes intensely seeking out every word, soaking every syllable in your head.

This was you third time reading Jane Eyre, but each time it just got better.

You’re so immersed in the fictional world of the young woman, in fact, that you don’t notice when someone comes in until he speaks- voice gruff and bemused.

“Good book?”

You jolt off the couch, heart instantly clenching in shock as your gaze flickers to person which has spoken.

“Campbell,” his names leaves your mouth in a barely-registered, unintentionally breathless mumble.

He grins at you. “Did I scare you, doll?”

You swallow, avoiding eye contact. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Shrugging, he steps closer to you. “As happy as I am to see you, I’m here for Allie and Will. They’ve got something that belongs to me.” He motions loosely around you. “You wouldn’t happen to know where they are would you?”

You shake your head. “And even if I did why the hell do you think I’d tell you?”

He pauses suddenly, face falling and the move is so startling, your heart does too.

He stares you down as he steps closer. You refuse to move or maybe you just can’t- his gaze paralyzing you entirely.

It isn’t until he’s a mere foot away from you, scanning you from head to toe pensively, that he finally speaks.

“You’re too fuckin pretty and smart to be aiming this low, Y/n. Always were.”

You scoff at him. “And according to you what the hell is so low that I’m aiming at?”

“This. This house, these people. You don’t belong here.”

You laugh wryly, shaking your head. “And what the hell would you know about belonging Campbell? All your life, all you’ve done is not fit in. You try- you hang out with the cool kids but even you can’t make yourself believe that you actually feel good with them. That you actually fit in.”

He clenches his jaw, clearly on the verge of snapping, before a small ominous smirk grows on his face. “Yeah. You’re right, dollface. But at least I’m actually going for the people that matter. Allie and her pathetic little crew won’t stay in power of this town for much longer and then you’ll be on the losing side.”

You smirk. “We’ll see about that.”

At the smugness in your face, something suddenly snaps in him and he laughs.

“You’re so fucking lost. I’m willing to show you the way though, Y/n.” He tilts his head mocking, eyes scanning you from head to toe with a malicious glint in those mysterious eyes.

You swallow your fear. “Yeah? And how’s that?”

“If you open those long legs of yours for me, I’d be more than willing, dollface.” He licks his lip mockingly.

You’re sure he doesn’t actually mean it; Campbell is always playing games and this is another one of his sick manipulations to get you riled up.

And it’s working.

You first your hand, raising your arm in a flash, ready to punch the living daylights out of him, but he catches his arm just before your fist connects with his annoyingly sharp jaw.

He yanks your closer to him, clicking his tongue with pretend disapproval. “Now, Y/n, that’s not a very nice thing to do to a guest, is it?”

“Listen, I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but I’m not your fucking toy, Campbell,” you hiss at him, despretely trying to tug your arm from his painfully tight grasp, fighting the panic rising in you at your vital mistake.

No one else was at home and they wouldn’t be for a while. It was just you and him— no one was here to save you if he decided to do something.

Truth be told, he terrified you. But that didn’t mean you’d let him know that. You knew the sick motherfucker got off on that shit, and you weren’t going to become just another helpless victim trapped beneath his sharp claws.

Not you.

At your venomous response, Campbell simply raises a dark brow at you, scanning you from head to toe with decisive carelessness and a cold indifference that made you feel like a minuscule bug beneath his shoe.

That was one of the things with Campbell- he had a way of making people feel like worthless little things. Especially in comparison to him. It was this effect that made you detest him even more than usual. He wasn’t just a jerk, he was manipulative in the worst way possible because he didn’t only manipulate you for his own benefit, but against your own. He made you hate yourself so much you’d have no choice but to comply with him.

And you weren’t immune to it, no matter how much you tried to deny it.

And yeah, sure- physically speaking, Campbell Eliot could more than easily overpower you. No doubt.

He was taller, towering over you like a damn mountain. And he was clearly stronger- the lean muscles that flexed beneath his shirt anytime he took a menacing step toward you were enough evidence.

But somehow you knew it was stripping your mind of its power that he really enjoyed. Being able to trap you in your own fucking body- that’s the real power trip he craved.

He raises his hand, fingertips softly brushing a few strands of hair away from your face as you stubbornly stare him down.

The touch is shocking in its contrast to the death grip he has on your arm and it nearly makes you whimper.

He curls his hand over your jaw, placing his thumb under your chin, fingertips softly brushing against your neck.

You watch him so closely that your heart nearly drops when he suddenly twitches- it’s very small, but seeing as you’re quite literally holding your breath for his next move, you catch it- and it’s as his hand sweeps lightly over your neck...over your throat.

You watch his face closely. His lips part, his breath hitches and his eyes darken even more beneath the dim light of your living room.

He catches himself quickly, though. So quickly in fact, you’re sure if it weren’t for the fact that he were so close and you were so fucking scared of him, you wouldn’t have even noticed.

But you did. And a chill runs up your spine when you think about what he must’ve been thinking in that messed up head of his.

This fear grows when he uses his thumb to force you to look up at him, leaving your jugular totally exposed and vulnerable to those big hands.

“Oh, dollface, but you are,” he responds with sardonic sympathy. “You all are. Now, tell me where they are.”

Your breath hitches when he abruptly digs his fingers into the skin of your arm, sinking his claws into you.

Tears prickle your eyes at the sudden and sharp pain. You try to blink them away and hold back the tiny sobs threatening to exit your slightly dry lips, but a few of both escape anyway and you hate yourself for being so damn weak in front of him.

That is why, to reserve your dignity (or what’s left of it anyway), you don’t dare back down, looking at him dead in the eye and gritting your teeth as you lean in.

You wait for him to expect something of you and then you talk.

“Fuck. You,” you grit out with biting anger.

He smiles in a sickengly smug way, dark eyes practically drinking in the sight of you twisting in pain beneath his touch, of the humiliation embedded deep beneath that fake bravado of yours.

And as much as you hated admitting it, despite it all, there was such beauty in that gaze, such intriguing depth.

God, if it weren’t for the fact that you could see the sadistic joy -far darker than you had initially thought- clearly swimming in them as well, you could’ve confused him for handsome. If for a mere second.

If for a mere second, you could make out a striking resemblance between him and Dorian Gray in the infamous painting- the version before he turned into a monster that is.

His face was structured in that same classical beauty kind of way- high cheekbones, sharp jaw, bold brows, delicate pink lips, and a thick set of long lashes encasing a pair of piercing blue eyes.

But seconds go by and that mere second sure as hell did.

And all it gives way to is the pain you’re currently feeling and the perpetrator behind it. His beauty is dangerous. It’s deceiving to what truly hides beneath it. The ugliness simmering beneath, just waiting for something to snap from within to explode and take with it everything in its path.

He leans into you all of a sudden, making your heart jump all the way to you throat at the abruptness of the movement.

Not go mention; you’re fucking trapped between him and the wall now.

You catch a whiff of his cologne- a subtle but manly scent and the musk of his sweat and it makes your head spin. That along with the bitterness of the situation you’re in, nearly makes you faint with fucking desperation.

A trapped animal. That’s what he was minimizing you to. A fucking animal.

You swallow past the lump in your throat, hard. Licking your dry lips, you anticipate with almost overwhelming anxiety his next move.

His gaze flickers down to your lips as he laughs softly.

The warmth of his breath as it brushes against your face sends another chill down your spine and you can’t quite decipher if it’s because you’re shitting your pants or because he’s abandoned his indifference and is now looking at you like you’re his next prey and he can’t wait to chase you down and devour you.

His thumb softly caresses your chin, fingers moving into your hair. Your lips part at the delicious sensation and despite yourself, you lean into his touch.

“Careful what you go wishing for there, Y/n. Might just come true,” he warns mockingly, his whispers hoarse. His gaze sweeps over you- shameless as ever.

He made you feel invaded in your own body, the way he looked at you. His gaze and the liberties he took with them as he roamed your body and face made you feel like you were mistaken and actually his to look at. Like you were his to undress with his eyes.

It was a strange feeling to have him close after watching him from afar for years. Even as Sam’s best friend, you’d only ever talked to him twice before in the past.

Both were calling him out on treating Sam like trash.

To which he’d only laughed and walked away as if you were but a pesky little thing. After that, you had made it a point to stay away from Campbell. He was intimidating even in his nonchalant disregard.

But now, after what has happened, after almost everyone in your town had disappeared- he was making you question everything you believe in. And he seemed to be targeting you rather than just shake you off.

The fucker.

You suddenly can’t breathe, your heart beating so fast, you feel feel fucking dizzy with all the adrenaline it’s pumping through your veins.

You inhale shakily, trying to keep your fitting in this slippery slope of a situation you’d gotten yourself into.

“Let me fucking go, Campbell. I already told you I don’t know where they are,” you say- tone far too soft to be anything even remotely close to imposing.

He clicks his tongue at you mockingly and when you feel him tangle his fingers into your hair, wrapping the strands around his hand, you know something bad was going to happen.

Suddenly, he yanks your head back. The searing, burning pain coming from your scalp was unexpected and lethal and you cant help but let a loud yelp escape your lips.

“I’ll let you go when I fucking feel like it, you got me? I still don’t think any of you fucking understand, so let me make it crystal clear,” he snarls, forcing you to look him in the eye.

They’re stone cold, emotionless, the only emotion he had -sadistic joy- is gone and in its place there’s only searing, voidful, palpable anger.

“Everyone in this fucking town is scared of me.” He briskly releases you, knocking you back into the wall as he takes a few steps away from you. “And it’s for good reason.”

With a tiny grunt, you glare up at him. “Asshole,” you mutter.

He ignores your petty little insult, scoffing down at you like you’re a worthless piece of shit.

“Even you.”

You scowl. “Well I don’t know about everyone else but I, for one, am not afraid of you, Campbell.”

His lips curl upwards as he stares at you with a bemused look on his infuriatingly attractive face. “Sure you fucking aren’t. You know,” he clicks his tongue. “I always found it strange that even when you and Sam were attached at the hip, you never tried to get even remotely close to me. I mean aside to give me shit about the way I chose to treat Sam.”

He suddenly grows serious, a predatory look instantly growing on his face. Then he clenches his fists so tight, his knuckles turn paper white.

“Oh, the things I could do to you,” he mumbles, eyes zeroing in on your chest and then your neck. He drags his tongue over his thin upper lip, eyes flickering back up to you.

If that asshole knew how bothered his eyes on you made you feel, he ignored it. Or perhaps he enjoyed watching you squirm. Probably the latter.

They’re so dark now, that under this lighting- they almost look black. Far from his natural pools of blue and strikingly menacing.

His silver earring glimmers dangerously under the light and then you catch a glimpse of something else in his hand as he holds it up to the light.

Your blood runs cold when you realize it’s a blade.

He casually plays around with it, twirling around his hand with ease.

“You wouldn’t just be afraid...” he closes his eyes for a second, as if imagining it in his mind. A sick, perverted smirk instantly curls his lips and his cold gaze pins yours down once more when he releases a tiny hum.

“You’d be begging me to hurt you some more. Hell you’d get on your fucking knees and ask me to like the nice little girl you make everyone think you are.”

Your chest rises but doesn’t fall as you hold your breath. You’re trembling at this point, but you hope to god he doesn’t fucking notice.

“You’re sick,” you whisper roughly, eyeing him cautiously.

He shrugs nonchalantly, fingers running the knife some fucking idiot had left lying around.

“Maybe. But at least I’m not weak.” He looks at you pointedly. “At least I know how to take care of the things that belong to me.”

You huff, swallowing down your fear and letting your mouth run. “See, that’s the fucking problem with you Campbell. You think you’re entitled to owning people. But I’m not going to let you manipulate me.”

He raises a brow. “Oh, trust me, Y/n. Right now, with you- this is as real as I get. If I was manipulating you, you wouldn’t know it.”

Despite how much his words chill you to the bone, and your strangely strong urge to ask a whole bunch of questions, you merely chuckle sarcastically at him, putting on a brave face.

“Fortunately, that’s never going to happen.” You smile before quickly letting it drop. “Now if you’re done, get the fuck out.”

He sighs with fake defeat, putting the knife down casually.

“Fine. I’ll go.” You don’t budge, refusing to drop your guard at his words.

He smiles and even though you know that it’s not real- for a split-second you forget who he is because of how damn charming it is.

“Tell your friends I was here, will you doll?”

You almost let out a sigh of relief when he spins on his heels and begins to walk away but that gets trapped in your windpipe when suddenly pauses near the doorway, glancing at you over his shoulder.

“You know, it’s a shame.”

“What is?” You snap.

“That we hadn’t talked like this earlier.” He grins darkly. “I actually kinda enjoyed this little convo of ours.”

And with that he walks out, slamming the door shut.

Once you’re sure he’s gone, you release a huge breath, falling against the wall.

Your arm was throbbing aggressively and so was your scalp, your chest aches with pent-up anxiety.

And yet....

And yet all you can really think about is those eyes. That smirk.

The darkness inside of him wasn’t entirely empty, you conclude the more you thought about the genuine joy he had as he saw you in pain.

It was fucked up for obvious reasons, but you couldn’t help but think that what he held in that gaze was far more than that emotionless exterior he showed everyone. It was darkness nonetheless, but it wasn’t entirely devoid of all emotion.

Everyone said he didn’t feel like the rest of you did. But he felt something didn’t he?

There was something almost mesmerizing about figuring out what he was thinking. What he was feeling. About what made him tick.

It was crazy, but he’d always seemed like a sad person to you. Even underneath all that hard skin he’d built over the years, underneath that emotionless existence he’d been living, he seemed sad.

He scared you so much, it was practically impossible for you to comprehend why he also intrigued you just as much- if not more.

His darkness was as terrifying and unpredictable as it was alluring to you.

You sigh a little, glancing the already-forming bruises marring the skin of your arm. They were dark imprints of where he’d sunk his fingers into you.

You shiver just thinking about his hands on your skin.

You can never forget how dangerous he is.

Because if you do, you could find yourself trapped under his claws.

*

You tug on your long-sleeve subconciously, looking at Allie with furrowed brows.

“He said he was looking for you guys.”

Will shares a look with the blonde girl before looking back at you. “Did he specify why?”

You shrug. “No. Just said he needed to talk with you because you had something that belonged to him.”

Pursing her lips, Allie sighs. “We’re sorry for leaving you alone, Y/n. We should’ve had someone from the guard here. But he didn’t like-” she hesitates, watching you closely. “He didn’t hurt you or anything, did he?”

You look down, tugging even more at the sleeves and shake your head. “No.”

Allie had enough on her plate as is, you didn’t want to add another thing to it and be a bother.

She nods and sends you a look, fairly enough not looking convinced at all by your meek firmness.

“Well-” just as she begins to speak, a loud knock at the door abruptly cuts her off.

All three of you share a look this time, and you swallow harshly, heart racing. “Campbell?” you mumble with dread.

Allie motions to Grizz to check who it is. He nods, prying the front door open only slightly.

“What do you want Campbell?” He spits.

The small, indifferent, mocking, cold laugh he gives as a response floats in from the other side of the door and sends a shiver down your spine.  

“I need to talk to Allie,” he says simply.

Grizz goes to protest coldly, but Allie shakes her head at him, motioning for Campbell to come in. Grizz clenches his jaw, but complies, stepping aside for him to step in.

Campbell smirks sumgly, leering down at Grizz -who looks just about ready to explode- as he passes by him.

Then his gaze shifts to you as you stare at him and he grins brightly. You instantly look away, scrutinizing your hands.

Your spine goes rod straight as his footsteps near the kitchen, where you currently sat on a stool by the counter.

“What the hell do you want Campbell?” Allie raises a brow at him.

He slightly glances at you before smirking up at her.

“Elle. Where is she?”

Allie shakes her head. “She’s not your property Campbell. And you can’t just barge in here like that.”

His smirk drops and he glowers at her. “Give her to me or I swear to God-”

“Or what?” Will interrupts. “What will you do?”

Campbell refuses to back down. “Or I will come over to your house every fucking night and make your life miserable until you do.”

Allie heaves a heavy sigh. “Campbell-”

“Unless...” he softly sing-songs.

Everyone pauses, staring at him.

And when his gaze gently glides over to you, you know what he wants before he even says it.

“Unless?” Will murmurs.

Campbell bites his lip delightfully, gaze never leaving you. “Unless you give me her instead.”

All at once, everyone around you protests.

“What are you crazy?!”

Campbell shrugs, mumbling beneath his breath . “A little.”

The outrage continues. “No fucking way we’re doing that.”

“Listen,” Campbell shushes them. “The way I see it is; this town is fucking sick and tired of you Allie. So I really doubt they’ll have a problem helping me make all your lives a living hell. Now, I can take Elle and keep her because she’s mine. Or I can take sweet little Y/n here and return her after I’m done with her. That is; if she even wants to come back after I’m done with her.”

None of them even consider his offer. They start protesting again against him.

You just sit there, staring off blankly. And when you finally speak up. moments later, everyone falls silent.

“I’ll go with you,” you whisper.

“W-what?” Allies sputters. “Y/n, no.”

You look at her. “Allie, this is my choice, okay?”

She purses her lips in a silent reprimand.

Campbell snorts at your words as you look up at him. “But you have to give me back after a month.”

“Two.”

“One and a half.”

“Deal.” He smirks with satisfaction.

He looks at Allie pointedly. “Deal?”

The blonde glances at Will, Grizz and finally you. It’s clear she hates this; they all do.

You take a deep breath, getting off the stool. You walk towards her, taking her hands in yours.

“Allie please,” you murmur. “Elle has been beaten down enough by him. He’s broken her.”

“And that’s exactly why I won’t let him take you too,” she insists freverently, squeezing your palms tightly.  

You deadpan, lowering your voice to a whisper only you two can hear. “Allie, Elle is a badass, but I’m stronger than her, we both know it. I’ve known Campbell my whole life, I know his startegies. I know I can hold out for a month and half. I know that I’ll come back to you and he won’t be running a damn campaign agaisnt you then. It’s a win-win.”  

“But-”

“This town needs you, Allie. Even if they don’t see it now. Don’t let us down.” You smile reassuringly for her sake more than yours. “I need you to trust me on this.”

She blinks back tears, nodding lightly.

You nod at her, fighting back your own tears and you step away. You turn to Campbell; your fucking nightmare incarnate.

“Let’s go,” you say softly.

What the hell have you gotten yourself into?

***

Why is there such a shortage of fics on Campbell? He’s such an interesting character and let’s be honest; fine as hell. 

(with that earing bruh?)

I definitely have a thing for hot psychos and it concerns me a lil bit.

A special thanks to:

My forevers

@jessikared97​

@ladyofletters67​

@sammykb1994​

@lilypalmer1987​​

@mogaruke​​

#campbell eliot #Campbell x reader #Campbell eliot imagine #campbell eliot x reader #the society

[masquerade-story]

Chapter 1 - Moving In

"Whose dumb idea was it to go camping like this anyway?" Grey grumbled, smacking away a tree branch that seemed determined to get friendly with his face.

Walking behind him, his twin sister Lillian rolled her eyes and poked the small of her brother's back. "Yours. It was your idea."

"Oh please Crystal! Please oh please might we go live at the haunted house in the woods where we'll certainly perish! I, Dorian Grey Duvall, swear on my sister's honor to let you protect me!" Rayne fluttered her eyelashes, lowering her voice to sound more like Dorian. She yanked the handcart she was dragging over a set of roots, careful to steady its contents before resuming her walk.

"Has to swear on my honor cuz he doesn't have any of his own left after the last time," Lillian snickered, while Grey pointedly ignored their teasing and continued clearing the overgrown path.

Bringing up the rear with a digital camera trained on everyone's back, Crystal grinned and panned the camera to take in the large, dense trees, and huge, leafy bushes. "For a haunted forest, it's actually pretty nice here. Ah, more meadow rue! Specifically thalictrum rochebrunianum, neat."

"Gesundheit," Rayne said, eliciting giggles from the group.

"The lacy one over there with the purple flowers," Crystal clarified. "There's some rue anemone and meadow rue 'splendide' around here too. Don't touch the white flowery plant up ahead by the way, it's giant hogweed. The leaves and sap can give you phytophotodermatitis, making you blister up in the sun."

"Bro, how do you remember any of this? And as for you, you're a scary bitch," Grey cringed away from the plant in question while swearing at it, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at its pretty little flower clusters.

"I read a lot."

"Me too, doesn't mean I absorb any of it! I spent like six hours on Wikipedia the other day, don't even fully remember what I looked up."

"Was it about The Hobbit or Merlin? Cuz that's all you ever look up."

"Look, Lils. I know I'm walking in the front and all, but you don't need to stab me in the back like that. Also sometimes it's Pacific Rim, thank you very much."

"Was it Pacific Rim?"

"No it was The Hobbit."

The group talking and laughing were the self-proclaimed 'Fairy Rock' band Aos Sí Echtrae. Each of them wore a hiking backpack containing personal items, while Rayne also tugged along a sturdy handcart holding supplies and instruments with ease - a drum kit, harp, bouzouki, and keyboard piled up alongside some smaller instruments and the camping stuff Crystal insisted they bring along.

Though their banter was light-hearted and comfortable, they took their excursion very seriously. After all, they'd temporarily rented a locally infamous haunted house to use for a music video! It was a large investment, but they'd become popular online and had enough supporters that they were able to fulfill one of their member's dearest dreams.

Dorian Duvall, or Grey as he preferred to be called by friends, and his twin sister Lillian Duvall played bouzouki and keyboard respectively. Both had the same willowy stature, button nose and almond eye shape, but despite their similarities they both gave off very different impressions. Where Lillian looked soft and gentle, with large doe-like green eyes, and a kind smile, Grey had a mischievous glint in his hazel eyes and a roguish grin that he utilized with careless abandon. Lillian wore her sleek black hair long and loose, falling down past her waist and kept away from her face by a cloth headband, while Grey wore his hair in a high ponytail decorated with small braids.

As the one who absolutely loved haunted houses and anything spooky, it was Grey's idea to film on location for their new Halloween-themed album, Masquerade. Though it was the middle of July, they were hoping to get everything ready for an September promotional release before the album dropped in October, and so hurriedly set up for their video shoot in order to give themselves plenty of time for editing.

All four of them worked together to compose their music, write lyrics, and design stage costumes as well as fan merchandise. They also lacked anything resembling a lead vocalist, taking turns depending on what sound worked best with each song, and preferring harmonies rather than solos.

"Ray! There's a log up here!" Grey called out suddenly, kicking the fallen tree blocking their path. Rayne grunted acknowledgment, and shuffled around Lillian to help move the obstruction.

Rayne Rose played the drums, and also did a majority of the heavy lifting due to being the strongest person present in any room that didn't involve professional weightlifters. Her muscular arms were covered with watercolor flower tattoos, which she proudly showed off by refusing to wear any shirt with sleeves. Her curly hair, dyed a gradient of aqua blue and purple, was cropped close to her face for summertime weather. The short style purposefully revealed ear gauges and more than a dozen total ear piercings, matching the many piercings on her brows, lips, and nose.

The twins had fresh yet roguish charms, while Rayne had a more heroic air with heavy brows and an intense black gaze over lips naturally curved into an amused smirk. She dusted off her hands after tossing the log aside with little effort, while Grey panted for breath from the exertion of merely helping her lift it. Crystal, for her part, made sure to get the whole thing on video for future blackmail purposes.

Crystal Rose, Rayne's older sister, played the harp. Unlike her athletic and statuesque sister, Crystal was on the soft and plump side. Her long, wavy blonde hair was pulled back into a messy twist to keep it off her neck, the ends still pink from the last time she dyed it. Her face was round and childish, with bluish gray eyes above an upturned nose and broad cheekbones, unremarkable features made more charming by her innate overwhelming charisma and natural exuberance.

She was the kind of person that random strangers would strike up a conversation with, lost kids would try to hold her hand, wild animals would approach like an old friend, and when she raised her voice even the most crowded room would quiet down. She was also the kind of person who got carded when buying alcohol despite being thirty years of age, due to what Grey dubbed 'Acute Babyface Syndrome'.

"Anyone need to clean their glasses?" Crystal asked, pulling a cloth from her pocket to swipe hers clean. Aside from Rayne, who wore her contacts, Grey and Lillian both opted to wear glasses for the hike so they wouldn't have to worry about losing a contact forever if they tripped - a serious and ever-present concern for the slightly clumsy twins.

"I'm good!"

"Not yet, thanks."

"I'll take it," Rayne said, keeping her expression blank, and Crystal narrowed her eyes.

"If you wipe your sweaty face with the glasses cloth I'll push you into the patch of poison ivy over there."

"Ope, nevermind then."

The haunted house was a thirty minute hike from the nearest road, along a mostly uphill path that hardly anyone ever used and certainly wasn't wide or steady enough for any automobiles. By the time they reached the stone fence encircling the house's enormous overgrown yard, everyone except Rayne was ready to collapse.

"I'm gonna be so in shape after this if my binder doesn't kill me first," Grey wheezed, leaning on the stone fence and looking up at the haunted house of his dreams with a longing yet exhausted expression. It stood atop a hill in the distance, surrounded by several acres worth of mostly empty property speckled by a few large trees and scraggly bushes. Behind it was a small barn, a chicken coop that hadn't seen use in ages, and a greenhouse conspicuously lacking anything actually green. "A stone brick cottage in the middle of the woods overgrown by vines, a sagging peaked roof with exposed beams, and gaping windows whose panes are cracked like spiderwebs... Looks spooky enough! If the door doesn't creak ominously when we open it, I'm filing a complaint."

Rayne pulled the handcart into the yard, then glanced over her shoulder at Crystal, who was panning the camera up to take a wide shot of the house from just inside the fence gate. "How's it feel, Coco?"

Crystal frowned, furrowing her brows. All four of them believed in the supernatural after they all experienced several strange circumstances growing up, and Crystal had long proven to have abilities that most people would've considered fake nonsense.

She kept a dream diary after experiencing incidents where she'd dream events before they occurred, and wanted to prove to herself it wasn't a figment of her imagination. Whenever something weird happened, she was the first to alert everyone and get them away from danger before anything bad happened, and had an uncanny sense of whether people were lying.

"Hard to say. It does feel... Weird. The walk through the whole forest was fine, but as soon as I walked into the yard... The air's different."

"Really?" Grey raised his eyebrows, hopping over the fence and holding out his arms. He was the second most sensitive to any external oddities, with a particular penchant for finding rather nasty unexplained phenomena. After a few seconds he frowned as well. "No, yeah. That's a weird vibe for sure. It's like, the forest was fine and funky fresh, then you get over here and it's..."

"Musty," Crystal and Grey finished at the same time, and exchanged wry smiles.

"Could be trepidation from perceived fears," Lillian pointed out, gesturing toward the house. Though she also believed in the supernatural, Lillian also liked trying to find reasonable explanations before resorting to the occult. "The big empty windows feel eerie because people expect houses to be brighter and look more lived in, right? It's possible it's just a subconscious response to an old, dilapidated building."

"Dilapidated..." Rayne muttered, raising her eyebrows as she surveyed the house. She had a sensitivity to people's emotions and motivations, and could sometimes pick up lingering feelings from objects, but she didn't feel anything in particular coming from the building. "I don't think it looks that bad? We've lived in worse."

"It hurts me, physically, every time you and Crystal tell us about that kind of thing," Lillian sighed, patting her hand over her heart while Grey nodded next to her. "This place looks gross! It's horrible to imagine little Ray and little Coco in a place even worse than this..."

"Hey, they hired someone to clean the inside and arrange some basic furniture for us to use," Grey said. "It won't be fancy, but the interior shouldn't be too gross! And we'll sleep in the same room for safety! After all... This is the Corpse Consuming Cottage!"

"Ugh, that name..." Crystal and Rayne both cringed at the same time, while Lillian's eyebrows shot up.

"Wait, it's called what?!"

"Yup! Bad, right? But it's earned the name cuz of how many people have gone missing here. Poof! Gone without a trace! Every single person who's ever bought this place has disappeared, along with any family they brought along." Grey grinned, wiggling his fingers at his suddenly horrified twin. "I even made a spooky spreadsheet citing all my sources, aren't you proud? It's legit, this place is either hella haunted or hella cursed."

"Will we be okay!?" Lillian muttered, color draining from her cheeks.

"There's a loophole," Rayne said, and Crystal nodded.

"Yeah, we didn't buy the house. We're just renting. Supernatural stories are always big sticklers on rules, right? Chanting something three times, turning a certain way, walking a certain pattern. If buying the house is part of the problem, then renting it shouldn't be counted as the same thing because possession isn't being transferred." Crystal turned the camera to zoom in on poor Lillian's pale face, hiding her mischievous grin behind the lens. "Theoretically."

"Don't even pretend you aren't absolutely terrified too, Miss I Can't Go On The Haunted House Ride At The Amusement Park I Have A Doctor's Note," Grey scoffed.

"I don't like ghosts or wraiths or poltergeists or whatever wicked whatsits terrorize the night because I feel bad for them thanks very much, but..." Crystal glanced over at the house and frowned, furrowing her brow again. "I feel bothered but not... Threatened? Like there's something here watching but it won't hurt us."

"That's as good as a gold star to me. Let's crack this bitch open and make some lunch!" With renewed vigor, Grey fished the key from his shorts pocket and ran up the creaky old porch to the front door. "Come on in, it's nice and cool inside! Comparatively speaking, I don't think there's an air conditioner. Just fans. But it'll be clean!"

Like he'd promised, the interior was cleaner than the exterior condition belied. Furniture was sparse, but they were all fine wood antiques with a hand-polished sheen. Everyone dropped their backpacks in the foyer and stretched for a moment before getting to work.

"Water's on!" Grey called from the kitchen, where he set the tap to run. "There's dishes and cookware in here too!"

"Silverware?" Lillian called back, in the middle of helping Crystal and Rayne unload the handcart.

"Yup, as requested! I think they're all antique like the rest of everything here."

"Don't you dare break any antique dishes, Dorian Grey!"

"No promises!"

"Electricity works," Crystal said with some surprise, flicking a nearby switch after setting her harp case on the floor in the living room, alongside a towering pile of boxes holding personal things they'd had delivered via the realtor. She held her breath to listen for any crackles or pops, but the overhead light didn't give so much as a flicker. "Wires might actually be okay? That's surprising, this house is really old. Must've been recently renovated."

"Probably to try and reel in prospective buyers," Rayne said, setting down three drum cases. The rest of her kit was already unloaded, so she took a moment to glance around the living room with Crystal. "Inside looks much nicer than outside."

"We can make it look spookier with filters and editing," Crystal said, running her finger against the windowsill. When it came up without dust, she furrowed her brows. "They were real thorough cleaning this place."

"Found the terrifying cellar!" Grey's faint muffled cry echoed from somewhere in the house, followed by the sound of Lillian shouting his full name and charging off after him.

"Any cold spots?" Crystal shouted down the stairs after circling the entire bottom floor trying to find them. The cellar door was tucked into the kitchen's pantry, which was a full walk-in room rather than a little cabinet.

Since the house was so far from town, part of the rental contract involved the current real estate agent making sure the kitchen was stocked before tenants took over. All the shelves were packed full with newly purchased dry goods and spices, mostly sorted into pretty glass jars for aesthetic appeal.

"No cold spots, just some nice shelving, big old ground freezer and a wine rack! Fruit preserves and stuff but they didn't leave any complimentary wine. Zero out of ten, not recommended."

"What makes it terrifying then?"

"Big spiders."

Crystal grimaced and backed away from the cellar door, narrowly evading Lillian as she retreated up the stairs at maximum speed.

The house was surprisingly large. The ground floor had a large open kitchen with an attached breakfast room, a living room, a dining room, a sitting room, a study with empty floor-to-ceiling bookshelves alongside display cabinets, and a laundry/changing room attached to a bathroom with an enormous sunken bath large enough to be used as a hot tub.

"I would buy this house just for the tub," Lillian said, stroking the porcelain with obvious affection.

"Please don't," Grey muttered. "We're evading the horrible disappearance curse via fairy loopholes, don't you go walking into the trap face-first like that!"

"Fine, but when we leave, we're bringing the tub with us."

"Yeah sure that's completely feasible and not at all slightly insane."

The upper floor had five large bedrooms with attached changing rooms, two lavatories, and a walk-in storage closet. Rayne carried their bags into the master bedroom, then returned to the handcart to retrieve the extra supplies they brought - a couple of brand new air mattresses, blankets, boxes of instant food, tents in case the house was in worse shape than expected, a first aid kit, and little tools like scissors, binoculars, and lighters.

"This place is supposed to be super haunted and cursed, yet..." Rayne hummed to herself, patting the mattress in the master bedroom. Every bed in the house was neatly made, with clean sheets and blankets that still smelled like soap. "Won't need the air mattresses. They really worked hard to make this place nice, huh?"

Finally, the attic under the peaked roof had a few small gaps in the shingles, but otherwise lacked any signs of weathering or exposure damage. The only things occupying the space were a few cobwebs in the darkest corners. "Ugh, nothing for us to snoop through," Grey muttered, poking his head into the attic for only moment before heading back downstairs to start moving boxes from the living room into various bedrooms for later sorting.

Crystal and Rayne turned the fans on in all the rooms to start circulating air, opening windows on the shaded side of the house to catch any stray breezes, while Lillian and Grey got started on making lunch. The house which stood empty for so long soon filled with laughter, conversation, and the smell of good food.

"I just can't get over how unhaunted this haunted house is," Grey lamented, tapping a fork against his empty plate. "I've been looking and there's not so much as a suspiciously shadowed corner or creaky stair board!"

"Are you sure those disappearances were legit?" Lillian asked, gesturing for Crystal to pass the salt so she could douse her potato salad. "You checked the sources themselves, right?"

"I did! That's why it's so weird!" Grey drained the remaining water from his glass, glaring down at the ice cubes rattling at the bottom. "Other than the terrible cell reception, weak internet signal, and our gut feelings, there's really no sign of anything being weird. I was promised jumpscares!"

"You were promised no such thing," Rayne muttered around a mouthful of grilled chicken sandwich, deftly capturing some lettuce before it escaped her lips and hit the table. "The outside looks spooky enough for use in our video, we can think of this like a vacation and relax for a bit until we have to leave."

"There's a barn out back, maybe that's haunted?" Crystal suggested, but Grey shook his head.

"I already checked... It's clean as a whistle. No disturbed earth or rattling rusty tools or anything!"

"Would you feel better if one of us got possessed by a demon?"

"Maybe. It'd have to be a really good possession though, if you're not crawling on the ceiling I want a refund."

"Oh, you're paying us?"

"Hell no, a refund of my feelings. My feelings!"

"Speaking of feelings, how do you feel, Coco? Lils?" Rayne interrupted just as Grey was about to get dramatic. "That was a doozy of a hike. You guys alright?"

Both Lillian and Crystal suffered from several health problems when they were younger, and were still weaker than the average person because of it. They had to work harder to remain healthy than most people did.

Lillian, since her mouth was full, flexed her arm and gave a thumbs up to show she was feeling alright. Once her mouth was clear of food, she added: "Mostly just sore, but nothing a long bath and some music won't cure!"

"Coco?"

Crystal gave a start, realizing she'd been staring out the nearest window for awhile and tuning out the conversation. She turned back to Rayne and smiled apologetically. "Sorry, what was that?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Just feel a bit woozy, I think."

"Sensing something weird?"

"Honestly? I don't know." Crystal sighed, opening a can of grape soda and pouring it into her glass. "I still feel like we're being watched. And..."

She hesitated, then shook her head. No matter how Grey tried to cajole the rest of the sentence from her, Crystal kept the rest of her thoughts to herself. If she felt they were in danger she wouldn't be so tight-lipped, so they dropped the subject and started discussing their upcoming album instead.

After lunch they moved several beds into one room, turning the master bedroom into a big slumber party area. The rest of the afternoon and early evening was spent getting video and photos of the house and its yard, trying to find the perfect angles for use during the actual performance recording.

Rayne gathered some logs for firewood after noticing a fire pit in the back with some carved stone benches surrounding it. Dinner consisted of an open flame barbecue using packaged meats they found in the fridge, and a few veggies and fruit rolled into foil packs.

"We've really gotta thank that agent lady," Grey said, reclining in his chair. "She really came through with the supplies! It's so good having a fully stocked kitchen from the start, I was worried we'd be having pancakes and instant ramen for days."

"I'll head to town tomorrow and grab more meat for the freezer in the cellar," Rayne said, chewing on a skewer of chicken. "It's got a little variety right now but I'd like to stock up so we don't have to make as many trips. You and Lils might be fine with rabbit food, but Crystal and I need that good good protein."

"We're natural carnivores," Crystal agreed.

"Is there anything else we need from the store?"

"Nah, I can't think of anything. There's like, four entire bags of toilet paper, and towels and wash cloths and soaps and detergent and even pads and stuff. Like, I know we paid for the service but the level of consideration is really impressive!"

Crystal stared into the flickering flames, watching the embers rise into the rapidly darkening sky only to flicker away among the stars. The strange feeling she'd had all day was building to a crescendo, swelling in her chest in anticipation of...

Something.

Rayne glanced over, nudging her sister in the arm. "Coco? You're out of it again."

Crystal nodded. She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened again. Seeing her strange behavior, Lillian and Grey both fell silent.

Finally, Crystal heaved a sigh and poked at the burning logs with a long stick. "Remember when we first posted the video for our band? It was uploading and we were all watching the loading bar while holding our breaths? How it felt?"

"Don't get nostalgic on me old man," Grey muttered. Though his tone was teasing, there was an affectionate smile on his face.

Lillian nodded and smiled. "It was so exciting and terrifying at the same time. Maybe nothing would happen, maybe we'd be one of many bands that never got any traction. But maybe... Maybe we'd get lucky."

"It was kind of a relief too," Rayne added, gesturing with the skewer in her hand. "Like, we did it! We made our first song, and did our first video, and were gonna show it to the world. It felt really real right then. All our hard work."

"Yeah... And remember what I said?" When they all shook their heads, Crystal chuckled and poked the fire hard enough to send a flurried shower of sparks into the air. "I said it felt like a change was coming. For better or worse, something big was about to happen."

"Right, right! We'd either succeed in our dream or fail absolutely, with no in-between. That's what you said, yeah?" Grey sighed, patting his full stomach. "I remember. Man, that was heavy. I couldn't even sleep that night, you know?"

"Is it happening again?" Lillian asked, her voice even softer than usual. "That feeling?"

"Yeah. I've felt that way all day. I thought maybe it's cuz we never did anything as big as this, renting a house and doing a whole video shoot on location, that maybe I was worried about how ambitious our idea was, but..." Crystal bit her lip, poking the fire again. She made a point of avoiding their gazes, focusing on the burning embers and crackling logs. "I think if we stay here tonight, there's no going back."

Silence reigned for a few minutes. Then, quietly, Rayne whispered: "Are we in danger?"

"It's not like that. It's just... A massive change, that feels... Overwhelming. This is bigger than the previous time."

"Bigger than chasing our dream?"

"Yeah."

Rayne reached over to grab Crystal's hand, while Grey hopped up and sprawled across Lillian's lap despite her protests. He just laughed and said, "What's that matter? No matter what happens tonight, tomorrow, or whatever! We'll get through it together like we always have. You and me, sweethearts. Us against the world!"

Crystal smiled and gently squeezed Rayne's hand. "Yeah. We'll be fine, no matter what."

Once dinner was finished, the fire fully smothered and the leftovers packed away for later, everyone did rock-paper-scissors to determine order of bathtub usage. One by one, they soaked away their worries, changed into the pajamas they brought, and crawled into one of the master bedroom's beds.

As midnight ticked over, a single shaft of light from the full moon filtered through the room's lacy curtains, illuminating their peaceful faces. The sleeping occupants remained blissfully unaware of the tendrils of fog creeping along the ground, emerging from the forest to wrap the entire house in a dome of mist.

Several hours later, as the first rays of dawn burst from the horizon, they were finally awoken by a piercing scream.

#writing #chapter #original #original story #masquerade #fantasy #isekai

[ivyandink]

How The Ivy’s End - Season 1

it’s long af, so below the cut. at the end is a brief tldr; too for u instant gratification fans

Levi & Penelope

Levi and Penelope, after raising 4 kids together (Luna, Dorian [Penny + Zach’s baby, passed off as Levi’s], Morgan and Charlotte [Penny+Levi’s twins]), have a struggling relationship.

Levi is constantly trying to make things work, to make Penny happy, and to find the ‘spark’ they once had, in an attempt to revive their dead bedroom (yup!!! rip). Penny gets put on a project at work that has her teaming up with a legal consultant... none other than ex-boyfriend Justin Brees!

While Levi is struggling to work on his relationship with Penelope, raise his children, and manage his relationship with Luna’s mom Megan, Penelope is starting to feel things she hasn’t felt in a while-- but for Justin. 

When Levi and Penny’s neighbor hits on Levi one afternoon, after he rejects her she tells him she knows his relationship is falling apart-- she sees it, because so is hers. Turns out... she maybe have been right!! Penelope starts toying with the idea of breaking things off with Levi, to pursue Justin; the way she feels around him is just incomparable.

She’s ready to pull the trigger, and put an end to their ~4 years together when... Zach shows up. The father of her first child (who everyone thinks is Levi’s!), the man who spun a wild tale about a mysterious man he worked for, and some sort of danger which meant he had to disappear for a while. It took time, but eventually Penelope realized she’d been played. Zach, an avid reader nonetheless, made up a wild story all to avoid responsibility. 

Or did he.....?

Feeling the pressure and a surge of emotions from Zach’s return, Penelope finds comfort in the familiar, and reels herself back in from breaking things off with Levi. Together, they try to determine what to do about Zach being back in the picture, and wanting to meet his son. Penelope is adamant that she doesn’t want to give him a chance, but Levi, despite how much he wants to agree with her, can’t, after having experienced what it was like to not be able to see your own child. He urges her to hear Zach out, at the very least.

And when she does, it turns out... Zach’s story wasn’t as farfetched of a lie as she thought. He was on the hook for partaking in a money laundering scheme, through his business, Scratch Publishing. He’d fallen into the scheme thanks to a man he met and befriend in his NA group-- Michael Windsor. By the time he’d realized what was happening, he was in too deep to safely get out. That was why he’d pushed Penelope away in the first place, broken up with her over something trivial, and run when she’d told him about the baby. He couldn’t risk bringing her down with him. Thankfully, the statute of limitations on money laundering was five years, and with a solid four under his belt and no red flags or contact from Mr. Windsor, he figured it’d be safe to come back.

In awe of his words, Penelope’s harsh demeanor starts to slowly dismantle. The thing she’d always held against Zach was his abandonment, his betrayal, and how much he’d broken her heart when she was certain they were truly, deeply in love. How did she feel about him now that it turned out all of that was to protect her?

Slowly, but surely, Penelope allows Zach back into her, and Dorian’s life. Zach and his son bond almost instantly, which is both heartwarming and troubling. Dorian had been raised thinking Levi was his dad... what were they to say now? For Levi especially, it was hard seeing a child he’s come to see as his own, be taken away... rightfully so, by his biological father... but nonetheless, it wasn’t easy. Especially not for a second time. Within himself, now Levi has to grapple with the dilemma of how to tell his entire family he’d lied to them for four years...

Eventually, he tells them all, and once the chaos and confusion of it all blows over, things start to settle into a nice (albeit, strange) routine with Levi, Penelope, Zach and Dorian. As Zach grows closer with his son, he grows closer with Penelope too-- the old inside jokes, the literary references, the intimate teasing they’d once had together, all slowly starts to come back. Meanwhile, Justin is still spending late nights working with Penelope, and talking to her far too much to be considered strictly professional. Oh, and she’s still with Levi, and raising four children with him....

Levi, focusing on his family and his career, is presented with the opportunity of a lifetime. An international trip, to photograph at some of the top fashion events in Paris. He knows it’d be a game changer for his career, but declines the offer, in favor of staying home, where he can keep an eye on his kids, and more importantly, his relationship, which seems to be falling apart at the seems, and slipping through his fingers like water. (Somewhere in there, Luna gets into child modeling lol.)

After months of battling her emotions, dealing with the revisiting of old feelings of abandonment with Zach (both romantic and parental... him leaving Dorian mirrors her own father leaving her much to much for comfort) and trying to make the best decision not only for herself, but for her family(s?), Penelope decides to end things with Levi. She realizes that if she is feeling so conflicted (and over three men, at that!), that Levi deserves better. She jumped head first into motherhood at such a young age, and lost herself in the tumult of it all. She needed time to be alone-- no Levi, no Justin, no Zach-- to be herself for once, and find out who that woman was. 

....to be continued...

Violet & Jordan

Vi and Jordan couldn’t have a more perfect life. A beautiful daughter, a brand new home, a fancy lifestyle, and a brand new baby boy on the way to complete it all. There had never been a couple more in love in the history of time than Violet and Jordan-- that’s what they like to think anyways.

Their biggest crises is Jordan’s desire to start his own business. After near a decade of working in restaurants, and five years managing one, and a lifetime interest as a hobbyist chef, Jordan realizes that his biggest dream is to open his own catering company. There’s only one problem-- it’s expensive. And truth be told, with an obstetrician for a wife, Jordan isn’t exactly the primary breadwinner in his family.

With a mountain of medical school debt still to be paid, two brand new cars, a brand new house, and two children that need college funds, Violet is gun shy over Jordan’s new proposal. Jordan takes this to mean that his wife doesn’t believe in him, which ensues a few nights of arguments, cold shoulders, and sleeping on the couch (J, not Vi, of course).

But suddenly, that all becomes trivial when Jordan gets a phone call..... his father has died. This news rocks his world. His father had never been much of a father to him, and in fact, had been his abuser growing up. As soon as he was old enough, he’d cut ties with both his parents and got the hell out of dodge. He is filled with a strange feeling-- not quite sadness, but not relief, but a weird mixture of the two. His grieving mother begs him to come home for the funeral. For the moment, Vi and J set their disagreements aside, and say goodbye as Jordan leaves his very pregnant wife to catch a flight to Willow Creek.

To put it simply, this is an intense experience for Jordan. Being back in a place he associates with his terrible childhood, in a place he hated and couldn’t wait to run from...He hardly knows how to process it all. He is happy to see his mother, and grateful now she can be free from her husband’s abuse, too. Except... she’s not happy he’s gone. She doesn’t see herself as freed-- she would’ve defended her husband until the grave, no matter how many bruises he left, and she did exactly that. Jordan decides to stay for the week, and help his mother get everything in order, despite it all.

As he spends time in Willow Creek, he is reminded of the crew he used to run with as a teen and young adult-- people he hardly recognizes now. Except maybe... Cami. Cami had been his ex girlfriend, on again off again sort of situation. They’d dated throughout high school, and after he’d broken up with Violet to give her a better shot at life (thinking, wrongfully, he’d hold her back), Cami was the woman he turned to in his time of heartbreak. Feeling stranded and alone in Willow Creek, with his mom blaming him for his father’s death, and generally feeling like he’s at a crossroads in his life, Jordan ends up humoring Cami’s insistence on hanging around.

Cami knew what it was like. She got it. In ways Violet never could. She'd been hurt by her parents too. She’d grown up in a rough part of town, got involved with the wrong people and the wrong things, just like he did. In a way, they were kindred spirits-- it why they always found their way back to each other, despite how toxic it always ended up being. And if there is one word to describe Cami, it is determined. She is determined to get her way.

She calls him JJ-- his old nickname, that he now despises and associates with his tumultuous youth. She tries to remind him of who he was, and still is, deep down. Who they were together. She tries to tell him that this new life he’s got? It’s not him. It’s that boujee bitch wife of yours, JJ. I bet she don’t even understand you-- bet she doesn’t even get how you can miss someone even when they’ve hurt so bad... bet she said ‘good riddance’ when you told her the news. She doesn’t get you JJ, not like how I do... how I always did.

She comes on to him, pushing herself against him. Jordan gets angry, tries to push her off of him. She goads him on. What’re you gonna do, baby? Hit me again? Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree I guess, JJ. That was one time Camille. One time. I am nothing like him. No baby, you’re not... mmm.. not at all. Shhh, it’s okay, don’t cry. I’m here. I’m here. I’m never leavin’ you JJ, not ever again. 

In a moment of incredible vulnerability and weakness, Jordan relents to her seductions. But... only momentarily. It doesn’t take long for him to realize what is happening-- he pushes her off of him and storms away, as she cries out his name. Disgusted with himself, he immediately goes to call his wife. He breaks down, sobs shaking his body, as he tells Violet everything. Except the other end of the line stays silent... Don’t bother coming home, Jordan. There’s nothing for you here anymore. Stay the fuck away from me.

Cheating was the one thing Violet would never, ever stomach. She hangs up the phone, stoic and stiff as a rock, and then collapses into tears, crying on her beautiful, marble kitchen floors. She she looks around her home, she sees Jordan everywhere. She sees the life they’ve built together over the years. And she knows she can’t stay there for the night. Violet packs a bag for herself and her daughter, drops Willow off with her mom, and heads to Wes and Nate’s place to get away for the night.

...to be continued...

Wes & Nate

Wes and Nate, after four years of marriage, are ready to grow their family. With both of them working good jobs, and a townhouse in a nice enough part of the city (that Nate’s parents may or may not have helped out with...), they figured it was time. Of course, the pleading mothers on both sides of the family didn’t help matters!

Turns out, however, it’s not the easiest thing in the world to adopt a child, especially as a gay couple. Agency after agency has turned them down-- either because they don’t work with gay parents, or because they say they’re just ‘not the right fit’ (code for: you’re gay but we’re scared to say that’s our reasoning). The few agencies that have been willing to work with them are still struggling to pair them with a birth mother. Possibly because despite both of them having good jobs, neither has a college education. Or possibly because on more than one occasion, Wes had dropped an f-bomb during the interview process. Or possibly.... Weston’s questionable family history, and his father being a convict-- which came up on several occasions. 

Feeling depressed and defeated, Weston’s connects with Nate’s sister, Thalia, who is also struggling to conceive with her husband Gianni. Neither of them thought they’d ever really want kids one day, and here they are, both in their feelings about not having them. They have their heart to heart, as it feels like the only person who truly gets it is each other. The feeling of letting their partner down, over one of the biggest things.

Despite Wes and Nate’s growing frustrations, they try and stay patient. And finally, it seems to be paying off! A birth mother has agreed to match with them! Finally, it seems they have conquered the beast.

Until..... she changes her mind, and rescinds the offer, after finding out about Weston’s absent dad. Failure, again. They both know there is nothing they can do to change the sort of childhood Wes had, and that it has no bearing on the types of dads they will be-- it’s just a matter of time until they match with someone who won’t hold that against them. But it inspires Nate to bed the question to his husband... should he try and reconnect with his dad again?

It had been years of avoidance since the last time Steven showed up in Weston’s life. He’d avoided him then, and ever sense. But now, with the topic coming up over and over again, he does feel compelled to reach out. It doesn’t take long to get his number from his mom; he finds out he lives just a few hours away, and they schedule to meet somewhere in the middle.

And for the first time ever, Wes willingly confronts his father. His whole life, he’d built him up to be some kind of monster, and he can’t tell if he’s disappointed or just plain sad to see the man his father has actually become-- a tired, old, cracked out looking man with shaky hands. 

As they talk, Steven apologizes for never being a dad to him, but also admits that he never wanted to be a dad-- not then and not now. The times he reached out years ago, he was just hoping to get to know his kid, as a fellow adult, not like some mentor or fatherly figure. That was a role Steven never did well in. Steven tells Wes how despite his actions, he really did care for him, and his mom, Daria, and he’d cleaned up his act ever since he got out of prison. He confesses that he might not be the best grandfather in the world, but says he is willing to try, if Wes is willing to bring his child around him, one day (despite the fact that Steven gets visibly uncomfortable referencing the fact that Wes is, indeed gay and married to a man). With mutual understanding and no more hard feelings, the men shake hands and part their separate ways.

And as if by some kind of strange magic... Wes and Nate get paired with a birth mom just a few weeks later. Although this time, they know better than to hold their breath, there is something different about this woman and this situation that feels... right.

...to be continued...

Wrap It All Up

Jordan has returned home, Violet is still refusing to forgive him, and only seeing him when they exchange their daughter. Inside, both of them are absolutely crushed, but neither of them knows how to begin to fix the wreckage. Jordan has been coping with all the old dirt his father’s death and trip back home stirred up in himself, and throws himself into developing his business idea. He’s added onto it-- not only will it be a catering company, but he will specifically try and work with at-risk youth. Kids from bad homes, and bad situations. Even with no financial backing, he decides to take the risk and go for it.

Penelope, discovering herself as a single woman and trying to cope with the tremendous emotions she’s been having, is finally starting to find her footing. She’s finally figured out a good childcare schedule with Levi, she’s thriving at work, and she’s starting to see herself-- and what she wants-- clearer. She ends things with Justin (or what little had ever been there) once and for all, and finds herself spending more and more time with Zach, out of desire and not just necessity. With all of her reasons to hate him melted away, the feelings of love she thought were gone start to come back. And-- surprise, surprise-- they’re returned.

Violet has been staying with Wes and Nate, and celebrating with them over the news of matching with another birth mom. She’s been helping them coordinate with her, send her the right sort of items, and prepare their future nursery. One night, her and Wes are up late, talking, as they usually do. And finally Wes tries to approach to touchy subject of her marriage. 

Wes looks at Vi, and point blank, asks her if she wants to divorce Jordan. Instantly, she says no. That tells Wes everything. He urges her to forgive Jordan-- he made a terrible, awful mistake, but he immediately tried to do the right thing. He stopped it before it went further, and his first thought was to lay it all on the line to Violet, not hide it. Wes gently reminds her of the time when she cheated on jordan... with himself. It had just been a kiss, but that was besides the point. When the little secret had finally come out, Jordan had laughed, and been more so annoyed that she was never honest, and less about the actual kiss. Violet insists that was soo different, which Weston concedes to. But still, he urges her to find it in her heart to forgive Jordan. He’s a good man, a great father, and they are truly in love-- they shouldn’t throw it away over one lapse in perfection.

Violet considers Wes’ advice... and heeds it. She goes home one day, when she knows Jordan will be off work, and finds him in the once-pristine kitchen, surrounded with food and bowls and tupperware and tomato sauce strewn just about everywhere. It catches her off guard. She laughs. And then she cries. Then she goes to her husband, wraps her arms around him, and tearfully whispers, What the hell are you doing to my kitchen, Jordan?

Jordan tells Violet about how even if he doesn’t know the financial details yet, he’s going to make his catering business happen; he tells her about the change in plans, spurred by his own troubled teenhood. As she listens to him talk about his life, his dreams, and his passion, she cries harder; she realizes that maybe she never did know this part of her husband. Maybe he never shared it, but maybe she never asked. Again, he apologizes for what happened in Willow Creek. She apologizes for her reaction, and for never taking the time to get to know the rough corners of her husband. As they kiss and makeup, Violet decides that they will tackle this catering business-- together.

Levi, more than anything, feels tired. He feels beaten down. The stress of raising four children. His relationship with Penelope falling apart despite how hard he tried to make it work. Watching Violet and Jordan’s strong marriage falter and almost crack, and Wes and Nate struggle to grow their family... It’s all too much for him-- a man notoriously always looking for love (in all the wrong places..). But, it’s even harder watching all those people around him re-find their love, and peace and happiness... while his still lies dormant. As summer draws near in the wake of the hardest year of his life to date, he decides to finally do something just for him... he calls up his boss, and last minute, takes up the offer to travel to Paris for the international project.

Violet goes into labor, and gives birth to her and Jordan’s second child, and first son. They also officially file for the name of his new catering business.

Nate and Wes fly across the country to be present for the birth of their son, grateful that things didn’t fall through this time.

Penelope and Zach finally make things official.

And in Paris, Levi scouts the streets, following the directions scrawled out on a sheet of torn paper, until he finds it. 

He knocks on the door. And Marie opens it.

////////////////////////////

tldr;

Penny has a lil love triangle with Levi/Justin/Zach. She breaks up with Levi to be single, but ends up with Zach.

Jordan cheats on Vi in a moment of weakness with his toxic ex after the death of his abusive father, but they eventually make up, and he starts a catering business and vows to hire at-risk youth.

Wes and Nate struggle to find a birth mom to adopt from, but finally, it all works out and they have a son.

Levi gets fkin WRECKED emotionally (karma fro, everything perhaps??? lool) , and ends up in Paris, knockin’ on Marie’s door. ;)

There was supposed to be a season 2, as well, which details what happens the next year, after all of this.. :) Primarily focusing on Levi + Marie, and what happens with them, and also Luna’s story! May or may not make a post for that one. Season 2 wasn’t as fleshed out. 

Most important detail I guess is that Levi and Marie end up together lol. 

~*~spoiler~*~

#ivy legacy #like ivy #the fkin ENDDDDD #tw abuse

[dgcatanisiri]

This is too long for me to be comfortable to put out without a cut, but dear god, did I need to rant and ramble on this subject...

I always feel awkward when I want to complain about how video games portray and fandom reacts to queer men, because I feel like the conversation (at least here on Tumblr) gets focused on the female protagonists - you know, the Commander Shepard or Alexios/Kassandra debates and that sort. The things where there’s valid comments to make about how important these female protagonists are, especially in an industry that is deeply misogynistic, and, in the case of the Assassin’s Creed protagonists, keep being developed with an eye towards the female-only protagonists, only to have a male protagonist shoved alongside them, if not upstaging entirely (such as Jacob being the center of Syndicate’s marketing, or how Bayek was originally going to die and Aya be the central protagonist of Origins, or the creation of Alexios and probably male Eivor on the basis of “women protagonists don’t sell.”)...

BUT, when I want to talk about my perspective as a gay man, as wanting to play these games for that empowerment, get to enjoy these games for representing me as a gay man, because Shepard, Ryder, Alexios, etc. get to be played as such, that having these male characters who are able to be played as attracted to other men means something to me, and that leads me to not just play the male characters, but prefer them to the female characters, or even to talk about the subject of homophobia in both the games themselves and the fandoms surrounding them... I do feel like there’s this pressure to just effectively shut up and stay quiet and let the women have their empowerment, that the moment needs to be theirs, not mine, that “fandom” (meaning the monolithic entity that is ‘the fandom’ and not necessarily any singular individual who I’m referring to or anything) is pressuring for anyone who enjoys the male protagonists for whatever reason to be silent and let the women enjoy their win, even if there’s a win for underrepresented men in there as well, or even a need to address the problems of homophobia by not representing queer men. That in its way, it’s effectively saying that a win against the sexism against the industry is outweighing or more important than any win against the homophobia. (Or, since I brought up Shepard, racism, considering that Shepard, Ryder, any game with the character creator, can be different skin tones as well, but that’s outside my lane.)

Like, this isn’t a callout post or any kind of directed screed against anyone, just... I suppose it’s a cumulative effect, based on the fact that I remember what the internet in the corners I frequent was like when Odyssey dropped, focused very much (and understandably - let me be clear that I have no desire to step on anyone’s victory or enjoyment of these games here) on Kassandra, and it felt like the fact that I got to play a character I could portray as gay (don’t start me on the bloody DLC though...) was a victory celebration at a table set for one, while (to really stretch my metaphor) seeing this massive party happening across the dining room at the same time, and that (and again, I’m really straining my metaphor, I’m aware), if I wanted to join that party, they would not combine our celebrations, I would have to join in theirs, and, in my wanting to pay attention to my victory, getting laughed at for it. It’s one of those things that makes fandom feel a little alienating, because I don’t particularly have much of a place that feels like it’s a space for me to celebrate my victories, rare as they are, and on occasion, even end up with the impression that, so far as fandom at large cares, that victory I want to celebrate is somehow less important. That the importance of Alexios, playable as a gay man, meant less than Kassandra, period. And, with Valhalla and Cyberpunk’s release on the horizon, along with (maaaaaaybe?) a Mass Effect Trilogy remaster, I find myself bracing myself for this to start up all over again.

And I know some of this is based in the fact that Tumblr and the transformative elements of fandom in general are more of a space that is dominated by women in fandom, who are going to celebrate the wins for them. That’s just how things shake out, I understand that it’s as much the place I’m going for involvement and interaction with fandom at large as it is anything else. Just... I obviously don’t fit in to the areas of “straight male” fandom, and then getting to the places in the “marginalized” segments of the fandom, it still feels like I need to find my way over to the margins of the margins to feel like I have a place in fandom more generally.

Like, I understand that I have male privilege and that is a factor in things - the male characters are probably more likely to be the ones in the marketing, so I get to see that idealized image of myself individually all over the covers and posters and trailers. BUT that doesn’t remove the straight privilege of the people who are shutting down conversations about the importance of the male PCs being portrayed in M/M relationships, even starts going into the realm of casual homophobia - because no acknowledgement of how important it is for the portrayal of gay men, or bi men, IS homophobic. I mean, how often do these companies have their official accounts post images of the M/M pairings? I’ve seen BioWare account retweet FemShep/Garrus and FemShep/Kaidan things, on top of the MaleShep/Female LI pairings. I’ve even seen FemShep/Liara content, which... We could go into the way that F/F pairings get fetishized and tend to be there as either fodder for cishet male titillation or just because the female PC gets swapped in for the male PC (in the way of Peebee riding a non-existent dick in the FemRyder romance scene in Mass Effect Andromeda), I don’t mean to discount that being a thing, so queer women are getting a short stick too. But where’s the M/M relationships? Hell, remember the whole #MakeJaalBi thing? After we got that notice about the patch for his romance would come... Has any official Mass Effect account actually SHOWN content of BroRyder and Jaal?

I mean, remember the Citadel DLC? The appearances of Kaidan’s romance material included FemShep, and Cortez’s content included a split second shot of just him and Shepard holding hands, and since it was blink and you’ll miss it, that means that it doesn’t even make any effort to portray the M/M relationships. And since I brought up Jaal already, BioWare had to be publicly shamed into offering M/M relationships in equal amounts to the other pairings in Mass Effect Andromeda. Like, it’s bad that Peebee’s romance for FemRyder just had the model swapped in for BroRyder, sure. But at least that content was THERE, at release. For gay/bi men who wanted to romance male characters, we have to make sure that we get that patch downloaded (meaning if you play the game without an internet connection, you can’t get access to his romance) - and only because the outrage actually GOT a response, which is not necessarily the norm in this industry.

Hell, the disparity there actually GOT noticed - if you include Scout Harding as a romance, M/M romances are the lowest numerical romances in Dragon Age Inquisition as well, with only Dorian and Bull as options. And I didn’t even realize this until this past year, despite being disappointed in those two options. Even recognizing that Harding is more of a fling than a full romance, it’s still more than M/M romances had. The closest we got was being able to flirt with Cullen twice before he shuts it down (and the rants I’ve had on THAT subject...). 

And that’s just the focus with BioWare - I saw it all through the initial release of Odyssey, while I know that the official metrics are all saying that Alexios saw more play than Kassandra, Kassandra got a lot of positive response in the fandom that was often framed in opposition to Alexios, that she was the “better” protagonist. 

Like, I’m bolding this for emphasis, and so if anyone is TL;DRing this it’s eye-catching enough: My issue is the dismissal and denigration of the male PCs when building up the female PCs. It is not being against celebrating the female PCs. It’s just the way that people will, in their positivity towards a female PC, dismiss the audience who relates to and connects with the male PC. The way that I���ve seen since day one the common “joke” that male Shepard is unnecessary, condemning the voice acting, even asking why he’s there when female Shepard is “the real Shepard”.

It makes fandom a hostile place to be when you’re looking to that character as your representation, your inspiration. Yeah, it’s a joke, but when it is coming from all corners, or at least feels like it, all the time, the humor dies, and you’re left with just the words. The words telling you that this mirror for yourself is something that people don’t care about.

Again, it’s that feeling of already being on the margins and then being pushed further. You are the freak among the freaks. 

But it feels like saying any of this, like I have, is opening the door to be dismissed as being sexist, or misogynistic, or lesbophobic, or anything like that, because people want to boil down what I’m saying to no more than “but what about MEN? Why aren’t you talking about MEN?” in that dismissive way that so many MRA trolls attempt to derail the conversation - except, no, I am TRYING to have a genuine conversation, about men who aren’t represented, men who need these male characters as much as women need the female ones - queer men get the short stick in a lot of cases, like this goes back to the representational matters in a lot of kids TV shows - while we can absolutely talk about the bad representation it was broadly, I remember when Voltron concluded, having Shiro, having arguably the lead male character of the show, end the show marrying and kissing another man... That was heavily ignored by Tumblr. Meanwhile Tumblr EXPLODED for Korra and Asami or Bubblegum and Marceline. 

It’s seeing what is representation for me as a queer man being played down or ignored while the queer women are praised. And, again, I’m not trying to take anything away from queer women, or women in general, but... Where, exactly, am I supposed to look for that same empowerment? And, more importantly, when the same media offers the empowerment for both groups, like video games do, why does it seem almost expected that I as a queer man back off and allow this to just be for the women in general, when the whole point of a variable protagonist is that it allows that empowerment for EVERYONE?

I mean, I say it feels like “opening the door” to these comments because it has happened before, and likely will again. Because saying “this joke feels hostile to me, as a member of an underrepresented group, can we please not?” or speaking about my individual experiences and feelings - often even just in my own space, on my blog, frequently only tagged with my individual tags for organization in my space, rather than publicly shouting it through a megaphone by putting it in public tags, and somehow STILL getting attacked for these comments - is apparently all those things... That’s been the response I’ve gotten to saying things like this in the past. 

And, in case I haven’t been clear with the repeated comments and the bolded statement above, it’s not about me, a man, trying to take away this thing for women. Rather, it’s me, a queer person - and fine, yes, a queer man - who wants to celebrate being seen, wants to celebrate what is still not a common thing of seeing myself in my media, and then feeling like I’m being shoved out of the way because other people celebrating their representation is considered more important, to hell with me and my mirrors.

Like, I’m not saying any of this is anything actively conscious or even intentionally malicious. It does seem like a reflexive defensive position - “men have tried to take this from us, so we’re not letting ANY man through.” I don’t want to come across as flippant or not aware of the fact that this isn’t a walk in the park for women. I get it, I really do. I’m just... It does feel like my struggles are something that I’m being told to downplay in the name of allowing others to have their celebration.

Thing is, my own experiences as a queer person already leave me feeling like I’m getting that as well - I mentioned before (and have elsewhere) that Dragon Age Inquisition’s M/M romances didn’t work for me. But I have often felt like I need to downplay the fact that I don’t emotionally connect to Dorian as a character - in the immediate aftermath of the game’s release, you could not say ANYTHING negative about him without getting shouted down as either a homophobe or dealing with internalized homophobia. Meanwhile, I’m here, pointing out that, hey, the previous games did not really have any direct homophobia, and the little bits that did lean in that direction felt more like the writers living in a homophobic society and not able to wholly divorce that in their writing than anything in-universe. To me, Thedas was a place where being gay was a difference that made no difference. And then Inquisition tore away that escape from homophobia so bluntly.

So, Dorian doesn’t empower me, you ask, so what about Bull? Yeah, I identify with “queer man” because while I’m a man romantically attracted to other men, I’m also asexual - just regular vanilla sex is in the fringes of my comfort zone. Bondage is an outright catapult out of there. At mach three. So I’m left uncomfortable by both of my “options” in Inquisition. And the response I have always braced myself for when I bring this up, when I do add my voice to the conversation about the M/M options, is “well, they can’t please everyone, and this was good for some people, so you should be content with that.” Being told I can’t have everything, so feeling uncomfortable at best is just something I have to live with, because hey, THOSE OTHER PEOPLE got satisfied, and so you should just be happy for them.

It’s that pained metaphor I offered earlier - the victory celebration isn’t for me, I’m on the outside looking in EVEN STILL. I am the freak among freaks. 

Where is my place to belong, in all of this? Because it’s honestly hard to find, when all the spaces deemed “for me” still feel like an exclusionary party?

#dg rants #another angry queer rant

[sleepingfancies]

We Need to Talk About SJM

I was recently anonymously asked what exactly my issue with Sarah Jane Maas is, and ended up writing what was essentially a thesis paper about it. Unfortunately, Tumblr pulled a Shitty Website move and deleted everything I wrote under the ‘read more’ tab, so I’m compiling my reasons here on a masterpost, for your reading leisure.

EDIT: Read more tab continues to not work for me, so I apologize to all of you who have to suffer through this. I’ll tag is as a long post accordingly.

Let’s get started

                                                        ***********

Reason 1: She preaches messages that no young girl needs to (or should) hear.

Granted, I know the a lot of the YA genre are adults who are no strangers to smut and aren’t phased by toxic behavior in characters. But on the same token, a lot of the YA genre is fueled by young girls age 12-20. Now I’m not going to sit here and pretend like girls in that age range aren’t reading/writing smutty fanfiction or dating. I know they do, I did, most of my friends did. But at that age, young girls are still trying to figure out who they are and who they want to be, including in terms of relationships. That’s where my problem with Maas comes in.

Maas writes, almost exclusively, toxic relationships - at best. Straight up abusive at worst. At one point in ACOTAR, I had to put the book down because I was so disgusted by what happened. Rhysand assaulted Feyre. I’m not kidding. He kissed and groped her against her will, telepathically asked whether she was wet about it, and wondered aloud what she looked like naked. The entire goal of doing this was to piss Feyre’s then-boyfriend off, and for Rhysand to assert his dominance as a Fae lord or whatever the fuck (y’know, like rapists do). Feyre was left shaking, nauseated, and scared for her life. But the worst part? It was written like this was something sexy and desirable. Literal penetration was all that stopped this from being a horrifying rape scene, and I couldn’t believe Maas wrote about it like some hot erotica. It wasn’t romantic. It wasn’t cute. It was disgusting, violating, and I was furious when I read it (especially given Feyre actually ends up with Rhysand eventually. What the fuck).

In Throne of Glass - and subsequent sequels - there are couples (namely Rowan and Aelin) who quite literally spit on each other, punch each other, and bite each other. No, not “love nip” bite, I mean “I’m trying to tear your skin off” bite. But we’re meant to believe they’re endgame, meant to be, and a totally healthy relationship. Let’s not even get into emotional abuse and manipulation, because holy fuck does every single character in these books act like a goddamn villain if we were to go over that in detail. All you need to know is that “if you don’t do xyz then I’ll leave and never come back” “what made you think I cared about you? You’re nothing to me. Just kidding, I love you” and similar sentiments are rampant in these series.

While we’re here, what is up with this “mates” nonsense? Every character pairing we see by the end of the ToG series has a “mate,” and swears off everyone they’ve had before, claiming them to be “false mates.” This whole “mates” business sounds a lot like somebody desperately trying to reassure their insanely jealous partner that they don’t still have feelings for their ex. That’s not healthy! That’s not okay! Your exes helped you narrow down your search. They helped you understand yourself more and what you want (or don’t want). And y’know what? It’s okay to have happy memories with an ex. It’s okay to not hate your ex. Telling young girls that all that matters is their future husband (which erases LGBT+ girls, as well as straight women who don’t want to get married) is harmful as hell, and contributes to the idea that a girl is only “complete” when she finds her “soulmate.”

Girls 12-20 really do not need to be given the message that it’s normal - nay, romantic - for their partners to hit them, humiliate them, or assault them. You may be saying, “Clara, come on, girls know fiction isn’t reality and no girl is actually going to stand for that kind of thing in real life.” But I can’t tell you how horribly my own view of relationships was corrupted for several years after all the books I read as a tween where the protagonist had to defend her flirty boyfriend from the advances of other girls. I didn’t trust boys not to cheat on me. I didn’t trust my girl friends not to try and steal a boyfriend. I thought girls who dressed up and wore makeup and dated a lot were sluts. It took me years of conscious effort to unlearn those ideas. Fiction can and does influence the reader. So again I say: teaching girls that it’s “hot and sexy” when men literally abuse you is not a message a 12-20 year old should be hearing. Ever.

                                                     ***************

Reason 2: What exactly does Maas want her readers to be?

Y’know, Maas thinks Caelena/Aelin is a role model for young girls. But here’s a brief list of things Celery/Alien has done throughout the Throne of Glass series:

1. Tried to smash a flower pot over a girl’s head for showing interest in courting Prince Dorian. Despite said girl literally being present at the castle for that purpose and Caelena was not.

2. Very nearly murdered Dorian for absolutely fuckall reason, and then she got mad at Chaol for trying to stop her (keep in mind: Chaol and Dorian are supposed to be best friends. So like... yeah, he’s gonna come to Dorian’s defense).

3. Straight up said, “if I get bored being queen I’ll just go and conquer more lands for my kingdom.” Imperialist there much, Aelin?

This is Maas’ role model material? Half the shit she does from Heir of Fire onward could be described as “war crime” and the other half could be described as “selfish.” Maas seems to think that a shit ton of half-baked “witty” lines and a few “badass” fight scenes completely makes up for having an amoral character as the protagonist you want to flaunt around as an icon for young girls.

It would be one thing if Maas said, “I don’t want anyone to be like Celery/Alien. She’s not a good person and I want my readers to be able to identify how and why she isn’t a good person. The moral is what not to be like.” But she does the opposite and claims time and time again that Celery/Alien is some kind of feminist warrior, when in fact Celery/Alien is the very epitome of white feminism and false feminism. She’ll be all kinds of gung-ho for herself, but as soon as another woman mentions her own unique problems or lifestyles, Celery/Alien thinks she’s a “whiny bitch,” “dumb slut,” or something similar. Celery/Alien ends up looking down her nose at basically every other female character. The lack of female friendships in Maas’ books is frankly astounding.

No girl needs to be Celery/Alien. Celery/Alien is not a role model, she is not a feminist, she is not a figurehead of a well developed female character or even a compelling antihero. She’s sexist, she’s misogynistic, she has serious anger issues, she’s manipulative, she’s abusive. This is not who young girls should be looking up to.

                                                       ************

Reason 3: Maas has no place in the YA genre.

I’m not really sure I need to elaborate much on this. Let me give you a scenario:

Imagine you’re at a book signing for your fans. They’re mostly girls 15-20, so you kind of just sign their copies without thinking much about it. But then a smaller girl comes up to the table, you ask her age, and she says “I’m ten.” A 10 year old girl is standing in front of you, clutching her copy of your book where you wrote and published the scene, “he buried in to the hilt and roared. Over and over he spilled inside of her, the lightning outside flashing soft and lovely long after he stilled.”

Look me in the eye and tell me that shit is appropriate in the YA genre. At all. Ever.

You wanna write romance? Go for it. It can be cute! It can be healthy! It can be intriguing! But this? This? This is just... erotica. If you’re publishing stuff like this in the YA genre, in a book that isn’t even on the ‘tween/teen romance’ shelves, then you better be ready to take full responsibility for teaching 10 year olds what a blowjob is, what an orgasm is, what BDSM is, what a fucking foot fetish is.

I know JK Rowling isn’t the most popular right now, but even she did better than this. The first 3 Harry Potter books you can generally find on the children’s/middle grade shelves. They were cute, fun little adventures about wizards and magic and fantastic creatures. Books 4-7? Those are on the YA shelves. People are dying, magic is dangerous, fascist organizations are on the rise -- it isn’t fun for Harry anymore. It isn’t about the wonders of magic. It’s about life or death, war, and fear. So yeah, of course those book aren’t going to be on the children’s/middle grade shelves! They’re dark! They’re scary! That kind of material shouldn’t be advertised as appropriate for younger kids!

Maas never extended that courtesy. Maas took her books full of badly written erotica and plopped them down right where all the rest of the completely tame YA books went, because she wanted the sales. She didn’t care if she was exposing kids who were too young to explicit sex scenes. She never posted a disclaimer, she never posted any kind of warning on social media when the books came out. Nope. She just silently took advantage of the market knowing she’d get more sales in YA. But it has no place in YA. It’s not YA. And I don’t think I’m ever gonna be okay with that.

                                                          ***********

Reason 4: Diversity? Never heard of it!

Maas’ books are so incredibly white and straight that it’s painful. Rowan and Aelin? White and straight. Feyre? Rhysand? Chaol? Dorian? Manon? Hey, you guessed it! They’re all white and straight (despite Chaol, Dorian, and Manon being heavily LGBT+ coded for like, the entire series till the last book)!

“He looked at his friend, perhaps for the last time, and said what he had always known, from the moment they met, ‘I love you.’” (Queen of Shadows)

Hello? Sarah Jane? I’m all for male friendships, but there’s male friendships and then there’s actual romance. Chaol and Dorian are about as gay-coded as they could fucking get. And this isn’t even the only time this happens! Check this out:

“Dorian surged from his chair and dropped to his knees beside the bed. He grabbed Chaol’s hand, squeezing it as he pressed his brow against his. ‘You were dead,’ the prince said, his voice breaking. ‘I thought you were dead.’” (Queen of Shadows)

But wait, there’s more!

“‘I’m not leaving you. Not again.’

Dorian’s mouth tightened. ‘You didn’t leave, Chaol.’ He shook his head once, sending tears slipping down his cheeks. ‘You never left me.’” (Queen of Shadows)

I mean come on, Sarah!

Also, Manon. My girl Manon hated men, pretty explicitly, for the entire series. In case you don’t believe me:

“There were few sounds Manon enjoyed more than the groans of dying men.” (Heir of Fire)

Oh, and other characters even imply Manon has never had a heterosexual relationship in her fucking life. See:

“‘That golden-haired witch, Asterin...’ Aelin said. ‘She screamed Manon’s name the way I screamed yours. How can I take away somebody who means the world to someone else? Even if she is my enemy.’” (Queen of Shadows)

Tell me that’s not gay as fuck. I dare you.

Manon had a whole lot of love to give women! She was always affectionate towards other women. Particularly Elide. This is a woman who was about as lesbian as you could get. Had no interest in men, every interest in women, rejected typically expected roles for women (getting married and having kids, etc.) but guess what happened? Guess what fucking happened?

This warrior who was friends with and rode on a big fuckoff wyvern completely and totally submits to Dorian as her lover. I don’t mean that metaphorically. They literally do some BDSM shit where he’s her “master” and she “kneels to him” or whatever the fucking fuck. This entire thing pissed me off more than Chaol and Dorian being all “no homo bro,” because Maas used every possible symbol and subtext for Manon being gay, and then said “just kidding!” Her relationship with Dorian came out of nowhere. All of a sudden she was just as thirsty for mediocre dick as Aelin.

At this point I honestly have to wonder if Maas is really this ignorant or if she’s - dare I say it? - taunting her readers who have complained about the lack of LGBT+ representation. Maas has, historically, not reacted well to people criticizing her work. I would not put it beyond her at all to intentionally queer-code characters only to turn around and rip the rug out from under her readers by pairing them up in heterosexual relationships. And not only is that shitty writing, but it’s... really malicious and rude.

Of course then there’s the issues with racial representation. Again, Maas doesn’t even try. She includes 13 characters of color only to immediately kill off all of them in a suicide pact. So there’s that. Not sure I need to say more than that.

Maas knows what diversity is, but as per her famous quote, “I just don’t want to force diversity into my books.” So. Y’know. Writing a black or gay character (or!! God forbid, both black and gay!!) is asking a little too much of her, apparently. She doesn’t want to force anything as unbelievable as someone who isn’t white or straight, don’tcha know? In these books about fae people and dragons and gods fighting mortals and explicit erotica, an LGBT+ character or a character of color is high fantasy, not YA. *Sarcasm*

                                                        ************

Reason 5: The woman can’t write.

This is pretty straightforward. She cannot write. My proof? She plagiarizes the living fuck out of everything she can to avoid actually writing her own original work.

1. “You’re gonna rattle the stars.” - from Disney’s Treasure Planet

2. “The Queen Who Was Promised” - from GRRM’s ASOIAF, where Dany Targaryen is often toted as the exact same thing. Oh, and The Prince Who Was Promised prophecy in ASOIAF also mentions Azor Ahai being “the Heir of Fire” so, uh.... yeah.

3. Aelin basically being Aragorn. Lost royalty spends years as an outcast, denies their claim, teams up with elves (fae in Aelin’s case) to defeat a greater evil, becomes known as the people’s champion, falls in love with an elf (fae) and makes them their consort, crowned by the people, ends their coronation scene with a “you bow to no one” (I’m not kidding).

4. Nehemia dying for Aelin and it later being revealed that Nehemia was “grooming” Aelin to face great evil, and potentially give her life to stop it. How much you wanna bet Maas tried to give Aelin a name as close to “Harry Potter” as she could get?

5. Manon lighting a series of beacons across a mountain range to call for aid during war. I mean seriously? This is one of the most iconic scenes in Peter Jackson’s rendition of Lord of the Rings. It’s moving, it’s powerful, it’s awe-inspiring. And Maas knew it. So she just... took it. I don’t have a lot of respect for writers who can’t write their own moving scenes.

6. Kingsflame blossoms, which only bloom when the rightful monarch is on the throne. So... the White Tree of Gondor. Got it.

7. The Hand of the King being a royal court position. Like... jesus. GRRM, come get ya world-building, SJ stole it again.

8. A paralyzed Chaol has a specialized saddle made for him, because he wants more than anything to ride a horse again. GRRM! Please! She’s taking Bran Stark’s story now!

And besides all of these horribly plagiarized points, there’s nothing even slightly compelling about these books. There’s literally zero substance, and the last few books in both the ACOTAR and ToG series have been nothing but a smut-fest. Plot who? We don’t know her.

Trauma, both physical and mental, is erased at the drop of a dime (Aelin lost physical scars, Chaol’s paralysis was basically cured, series of events that should’ve left characters absolutely fucked just... didn’t phase them). The battles are rushed and sloppily written, and Maas has a particularly nasty habit of focusing on exactly the wrong people in the middle of what should be an action packed scene. Instead of showing alliances forging and plots being made behind people’s backs, instead of showing us people gearing up for battle by saying tearful goodbyes to their infants and spouses, Maas shows us Rowan and Aelin banging on a beach, or a tree, or a ship, or wherever the fuck they happen to be at that moment.

None of these characters lose jack shit. There is no sense of urgency or stakes, because we knew since Heir of Fire that Aelin and her precious uwu fae “mate” would be just fine. Why? Because nobody shipped Rowaelin as hard as Sarah Jane Maas did. Consistently the only people who suffer in these books are background characters (who, coincidentally, are almost always the characters of color and LGBT+ characters). By the end of Kingdom of Ash, literally everyone is fine. And paired off to be married, too! Because a happy ending isn’t a true happy ending if it doesn’t end with Babies Ever After and everyone in a heterosexual relationship, of course, right?

                                                        ***********

Reason 6: World-building doesn’t even go here! Sorry, she just wanted to be a part of something.

Maas’ world-building is... how do you say... shitty. New lore pops up in every book, having never been mentioned before, and is for some reason of utmost importance (but only for this book. It’ll be forgotten again as soon as it isn’t relevant). Religions who? Culture where? History what? None of these things exist in Maas’ world. None.

Now before anyone jumps down my throat with “but The World of Throne of Glass is coming out this year!!!1!1!!” let me gently establish something. Speaking as a fantasy author: if you do not have your most basic world-building - that being religion, culture, language, and history - already established, then you have no business making a “world of” book to cover all the bases your ass never bothered with in the original series.

I said what I said.

Tolkien and GRRM are masters of world-building because they spent decades working to forge their worlds before they ever put a pen to paper and wrote their stories. Not to toot my own horn, but my own fantasy series has been developing for almost 7 years now. What am I doing with it? I’m outlining governments in different societies, why people came to worship what they do, and I’m making a fucking world map on my bedroom floor (that now has cat paw prints on it, so it’s not exactly final product material anyway).

I give not a single hoot for Maas’ “The World of Throne of Glass.” She could be saying anything she wanted to and it would all just have to be canon, because she’s establishing what this world is after already finishing her series. Yes, it does piss me off, because it’s pretty obvious she didn’t have a clue what her world was, or who was who, or why things were the way they were. She made shit up as she went along, nothing more. There was no grand scheme. There was no planning, and it shows.

                                                       ***********

TL;DR: I have a lot of issues with Sarah J Maas’ writing, including her world-building and handling of diversity. But most of all I despise the potential impact she has on the YA genre and on the young girls reading her work. They deserve better than this. They deserve better than Sarah Jane Maas.

#anti sjm #anti aelin #anti rowan #anti throne of glass #anti a court of thorns and roses #anti tog #anti acotar #anti acomaf #anti acofas #anti hof #anti qos #anti kos #anti eos #anti tod #masterpost #anti rowaelin #anti manorian #listen i'm really trynna mind my tags here so it doesn't show up somewhere pro #i know this seems excessive but catch me being respectful even as i drag sarah jane mess through the mud #clara says stuff #longpost #long post #anti celaena

[beautiesandheadcanons]

In my longer, lore-related posts, I’ve covered a few different things, including the history of Lord Raiden in Mortal Kombat, biographies of Dorian Pavus and Maeveris Tilani from the Dragon Age universe, and the history of the Qunari people and culture, also from Dragon Age. But so far I haven’t touched anything or anyone from Fallout, and so today I’m going to remedy that.

The very first Fallout game I ever played was 4 (I know, I know, I did go back and play 3 and New Vegas, don’t worry fellow fans) and as such some of my strongest ties are with that particular game. And while one character in particular isn’t the first companion you encounter, he quickly became my favourite (and I also continually curse Todd Howard for not making him romanceable!).

Nick Valentine has an interesting history. His memories and personality come from a pre-war detective of the same name who, after the traumatic death of his fiancée Jennifer Lands at the hands of infamous mobster Eddie Winter, submits himself to an experiment at the Commonwealth Institute of Technology (the remnants of which later became the Institute) that scanned his brain as part of treatment for PTSD. What happened to the original Nick is unknown, but whether he died during the initial nuclear bombing in 2077 or died sometime after, he is long gone by the time the events of Fallout 4 takes place in 2287. The Nick we get to meet in game is one of two prototype synths leftover from when the Institute was experimenting with expanding and furthering their synth program. His “brother” DiMA’s AI was allowed to develop a personality naturally, while Institute scientists attempted to implant the memories and personality of the original Nick into the prototype that would become our in-game companion. Since it was an unknown procedure at the time, the scientists had issues with the transplantation, and while sometimes it would seem to take, other times it wouldn’t. In observing what seemed to be the torture of his brother, DiMA escaped the Institute with Nick in tow to spare him further abuse. Unfortunately, after their escape, the personality and memories took root a little too hard, synth Nick thought he was really the original Nick, and in his confusion he attacked DiMA and forced his brother to knock him out and leave him.

While later on, the population of the Commonwealth would be extremely suspicious of synths and anything Institute-related, at this point in time they didn’t know much and so he was greeted with a mix of awe, curiousity, and a little fear at the unknown. In talking with Nick, he’ll tell the Sole Survivor of a kid he befriended known only as Jim, and that he was the first human contact he had post-Institute. In another story, he’ll tell of how he was permitted in Diamond City (a settlement known for its anti-synth and anti-ghoul stance) by rescuing the Mayor’s kidnapped daughter. Though he didn’t realise who she was when he stumbled upon her kidnappers, and despite not having a weapon, he was able to bluff his way into getting the abductors to leave by pretending to activate a bomb inside himself and just saying “beep” repeatedly as if in countdown. One he returned the daughter to the Mayor, he gave him a house as thanks and for the first time since he woke up, he had a sense of stability. He initially worked around town as a handyman, but because of his detective skills that kept being brought up and used, over time he stopped fixing things and became a detective full time.

It was one of his cases that lead to him meeting the Sole Survivor in an old Vault. In following a lead on a woman named Darla who was believed to be kidnapped – spoiler, she was not, she ran away with her gangster boyfriend – he was captured by Skinny Malone’s gang and imprisoned in the hideout they’d made out of Vault 114 nestled in the Park Street subway station. The Sole Survivor breaks him out and escapes with him, and upon leaving the Vault and meeting back up at his office, they reveal that they need him to help them find their missing son. Nick will assist them in their endevour, interviewing them and revealing the identity of the person who shot their spouse and stole their son, taking them to the house of known mercenary Conrad Kellogg and then summoning Dogmeat to help the Sole Survivor track him down (if they aren’t already travelling with Dogmeat). After the Sole Survivor confronts Kellogg at Fort Hagen, he will lead them to Doctor Amari and also volunteer to host Kellogg’s memories so that the fate of the Sole Survivor’s son can be ascertained and confirmed.

His personal quest, called “Long Time Coming”, involves finishing the old case that the original Nick had been involved in regarding the gangster Eddie Winter. After tracking down all 10 holotapes involving Winter, it reveals the code that will work on the keypad outside Winter’s bunker in Andrew Station. Upon arriving at the bunker and opening it, instead of being empty, the bunker will be revealed to be inhabited by Winter himself … ghoulified, of course, but alive nonetheless. Nick’s affinity will increase if the Sole Survivor allows him to kill Eddie instead of killing him themselves. After the shootout is over, Nick will retrace his steps to a road outside a run-down sandwich shop, the place where Jennifer Lands was murdered over 200 years before. While not the original Nick, he’s given some closure by wrapping up one of old Nick’s “loose ends”. He still has some issues with his identity, with knowing who he is separate from the pre-war detective, but the Sole Survivor has a chance to reassure him that he is his own man apart from the old Nick.

While not required, if allowed to accompany the Sole Survivor in the DLC “Far Harbor”, he has a significant emotional importance to the questline. The beginning involves following up on a message from a former associate of Nick’s, Kenji Nakano, whose daughter has run off and he wants he found and retuned. All signs point to the island of Far Harbor, and once Nick and the Sole Survivor arrive, they are pointed in the direction of Acadia, a settlement founded and run entirely by synths who escaped the Institute. Some of them refused a memory wipe offered by the Railroad, others had a memory wipe that didn’t take well and suffer side effects from it, and others still figured out they were synth and are trying to come to terms with who and what they are and their identity. The leader of the settlement is DiMA, Nick’s brother, who immediately recognises Nick on sight but who Nick doesn’t remember. During the course of the main quest, the Sole Survivor is able to find proof of their relationship, and Nick accepts the truth and even starts to form a bond with DiMA by talking with him every time they enter Acadia. While he won’t approve if the Sole Survivor doesn’t hold DiMA accountable for murder, he seems to comes to terms with the decision and it doesn’t seem to affect his relationship with his brother too much … though this could also just be something the devs overlooked.

While outwardly he may just look like an old synth that’s starting to fall apart, Nick is full of charisma and personality and has an amazingly witty and sarcastic sense of humour. Especially when taken on board the Prydwen and surrounded by Brotherhood soldiers who hate synths and everything associated with the Institute, he won’t hold back if someone outright insults him. Sometimes it’s just a simple deflection … for instance, if a Brotherhood soldier mutters, “Abomination” then Nick will respond with, “Well, good afternoon to you, too.” He’s not afraid to get a little more aggressive when told, “You disgust me” and he’ll reply with, “Not much of a sight yourself.” He’ll even point out their hypocrisy when told, “No machine should have free will”, he’ll say, “Why? You jealous you had to turn yours in?” I also personally like the response to, “Don’t get any ideas, synth” when he’ll reply, “From you folks? I wouldn’t know where to look.” That humour helps to cover up his insecurities related to his conflicted feelings about his identity and who he is, and I wish that an in-game romance would help reassure him of who he is and his worth, similar to the way a romantic relationship between the Sole Survivor and John Hancock unfolds and develops. Unfortunately, Todd Howard and the Bethesda team denied us this chance, however mod authors have given us a chance to play it out with cut audio files spliced together to form the dialogue. Even without the mod, however, Nick always becomes one of my best friends, a voice of reason and a guiding hand to a Sole Survivor who so desperately needs it, but who will also call them out if they do something he disapproves of. Everyone needs a friend like Nick, and if you haven’t found one yet, I hope you will soon. <3

#beauties and headcanons #elisabeths gaming corner #fallout #fallout 4 #nick valentine #long time coming #far habor #dima

[katedoesfics]

Shadows of the Yiga | Chapter 17

The injections came every few hours as Kohga had promised him, but Link could no longer differentiate the real world from his hallucinations. He had no idea how many injections he had received or how many days had passed. The world simply ceased to exist around him as he drifted in and out of hallucinations, each one blending into the next. He whimpered and gasped as his body reacted to each injection, until finally, he could start to feel a new life take form inside of him.

And as the injections continued, he grew more and more infuriated. His anger seemed to temporarily ground him in those moments, and for the first time in what felt like years, he could recognize his surroundings once more. He felt more grounded in reality, more aware as Kohga approached him with each syringe. The anger grew inside of him until it became seemingly irrational. He was angry at King Roham and Impa for keeping his father's death a secret. At Dorian for betraying them all. He was angry at Mipha for abandoning him; at Aryll for falling into the same pit of despair he had; at his mother for dying. He was angry at all his friends for seemingly betraying him, moving on with their lives and leaving him alone, and angry with his father keeping secrets. But most of all, he was angry at himself for letting the Yiga Clan get their hands on Aryll and Mipha, and for allowing himself to succumb to Kohga's tortuous injections.

When the next injection came, he couldn't contain his anger any longer. It bubbled through his body, flaring wildly as Kohga approached him. His anger clouded his mind as it grew to levels of rage he had never experienced before, and he quickly felt himself losing control until he seemed to only be a small figuring huddling in the corner of his mind as something else entirely took over.

Link's body strained against the restraints, testing their strength as he threatened to break through. His fingers flexed, then curled into his palms, his nails suddenly long and sharp. His skin paled and darkened, as his eyes flashed vivid red. A low growl escaped his throat as his gaze landed on Kohga, his chest heaving with each breath he took.

This seemed to please Kohga, and he grinned and laughed as Link twisted in the chair. Link threw himself forward, and the restraints groaned under the pressure, but otherwise held strong, holding him back despite his struggles. Kohga plunged the syringe into him once more and the fury raged further inside Link for another moment. But then his body calmed as soon as the syringe was withdrawn. The rage disappeared almost instantly and he fell back against the chair, his body falling limp as his awareness crawled forward, taking control once more.

He was exhausted. So exhausted that he could barely move or open his eyes. But he forced his eyes to open. His eyes that had returned to their clear, pure blue, moved weakly to Kohga as his breathing slowed and steadied.

“Thrilling, isn't it?” he said with a grin. “The more you fight it, the weaker you will become, and the quicker that darkness will consume you. Your rage feeds it. Soon, you will disappear completely. Hyrule's Hero will be gone forever.”

Kohga moved back to the table, placing the empty syringe back on the table. “There won't be many more injections left,” he said as he moved to the door. “But don't worry; we won’t send you away without seeing your friends one last time. The two girls – we'll let you watch them die before we finish you ourselves.”

If he wasn't so exhausted, the rage surely would have blown through him again, causing the darkness inside of him to gain control once more. But he simply could not think straight, or even really process the words Kohga had said to him, which may have been to his benefit. There was surely some truth to what Kohga had said; the more he fought against the darkness, the quicker it would consume him.

He let his head hang for sometime, allowing himself to rest before he finally felt relatively normal. His mind was clear; or, clear enough to begin to process all that had just happen. And for the first time in what seemed to be a long time, he remembered that Aryll and Mipha were in trouble, and that the Yiga Clan had them.

He cursed himself for succumbing to Kohga’s injections, for not being stronger, for not being able to break away and save Mipha and Aryll. He took advantage of his sudden clarity and looked around the room once more. He needed to find a way out of his restraints. He fought against them once more, but still, they held strong. Even the chair did not budge, and he could only assume it was bolted into the floor. There would be no way he could escape. At least, not on his own. He was not strong enough, but maybe there was someone who was.

He tried desperately to will that other part of him to return. He reached into the deepest, darkest corners of his mind to will the darkness in him to surge forth once more. He tried to recall all he had seen, heard, and witnessed. He recalled some of his earlier hallucinations; the ones he was sure were hallucinations. Seeing his mother was surely one of them. But nothing more stood out to him. He thought back to his brief moment of consciousness - his father. He remembered seeing him. He ordered him killed. His own father… a traitor.

No. That couldn’t be right. As strong as the memory was, he still couldn’t believe it, though as he played it over again, the pain struck his chest each time, as real as the last. But he refused to believe it nonetheless.

Still; it had the effect he was hoping for. He could feel the darkness creep in around his mind, pushing aside his consciousness. And he let it - encouraged it - to take over. He opened himself to it, but it only seemed to shirk away. It quickly slipped away from him, causing his insides to pull sickeningly. His head spun once more, and he quickly lost consciousness.

*****

The door opened and light spilled into the room. Two dark figures, silhouetted by the light behind them, stood in the doorway. They said nothing as they stepped into the room, closing the door behind them. The dim lights flickered on and hummed as they warmed. Link was barely conscious, his head hanging low and his breathing shallow. He noticed the change in the lighting. He heard the footsteps of the two figures that entered. But everything else was indiscernible. He paid no mind to them, assuming them to be more Yiga soldiers. In truth, he didn’t care anymore. There was nothing he could do to stop them. He had given up.

A strong hand pushed him back against the chair, seemingly annoyed that he had not regarded them. The hand gripped his shoulder hard while another hand slammed his head against the chair. A bright light shone in his eyes, and he groaned and turned away from the source. The light snapped off and the hand pulled his chin. His eyes moved tiredly to the figure that stood before him. He recognized Dorian immediately, but his expression remained unchanged. Dorian’s eyes narrowed fiercely on him as he spoke. Link couldn’t understand him at first, and it seemed his face had shown his confusion. Dorian’s gaze softened and he spoke again.

There was another voice after Dorian’s. It came from the second figure, standing behind Dorian and off to the side. Link turned his gaze to this figure as he stepped forward into the light. He met the figure’s gaze, smiled, then laughed. He pulled his chin out of Dorian’s grip.

“Nice try,” he muttered.

Dorian straightened, keeping his gaze on Link. He spoke again, and Link’s mind slowly came into focus, now understanding the hallucinative conversation between the Sheikah and his dead father.

“...to the city.”

Rusl’s gaze hardened on Dorian. “They’ll find him,” he hissed.

“If we don’t get him out,” Dorian said, “Zelda will look for him. I won’t let the Yiga get to her, too.”

“Your job was to keep them out of the Yiga’s hands,” Rusl growled. “And yet here he is.”

“Rusl,” Dorian warned. “I’m doing everything I can damn well do.”

“My son’s on the brink of death because of you!”

Dorian shook his head. “Nothing I do is good enough for you,” he said with a sigh. “I’ve managed to keep them safe for over twenty damn years. I got you out of this hell hole. What more do you want from me?”

“I’m done hiding,” Rusl said. “You’ve had your way. I’m done. I want to go home.”

“If you go -”

“He knows, Dorian! He’s not an idiot!”

“That’s debatable,” Dorian muttered. He turned his gaze back to Link. He got to his knees and peered at him curiously. He pushed his chest back with a finger and Link turned his gaze to him.

“How’s it going, kid?”

Link sighed heavily but did not respond.

“So, we’re gonna get you outta here.”

Link smiled, then laughed, but still, he did not respond. He knew better than to engage with the hallucinations. That’s all they were. Images of false hope. Images of broken promises and pain. Nothing was real anymore.

“Okay,” Dorian said. “Let’s go.”

“You’re a traitor,” Link muttered. “If I ever get out of here, I’ll kill you.”

“You’re dense,” Dorian said. “A damn idiot.” He stood once more, stepping away as Rusl moved toward his son. He gripped his shirt, shaking him briefly.

“Snap the fuck out of it.”

Link smiled and pulled away. “You’re dead,” he spat. “Get the fuck out.”

Rusl frowned and released his hold on his son. He turned to Dorian. “What’s your plan?” He didn’t wait for a response. “Whether you like it or not, he’s a part of this. He won’t stand down. Not until he’s destroyed the Yiga Clan.” His gaze narrowed. “If you had just told him the truth -”

“What do you think would have happened?” Dorian snapped. “The same damn thing. He’d walk right into their hands with the stupid idea that he could end it. He’s powerless against him. And before you know it, he and Zelda are team Ganondorf, and everything they’ve done will have been for nothing.” His voice lowered. “If he knew you were alive, he would have gone after you. If he knew they were a threat, he would have gone after them. Either way, he would have been exactly where they wanted him.” Dorian hesitated. There was a tone of regret in his voice when he spoke again. “I kept my promise to you, Rusl. I can’t possibly plan for everything. They still got their hands on him. But he’s here. He’s alive. And I will get him out if you just let me do my job.”

Rusl pulled his gaze away and turned back to his son. “I’m done,” he said softly. “I can help him. We can finish this.”

“How do you expect to do that?”

“The Champions,” Rusl said. “They have a lot more going for them than you like to think. Let them do this. Let them fight.”

“You were the one that wanted them to have no part of this,” Dorian said.

“I know,” Rusl hissed. “But they’re all we’ve got.”

“Let me talk to Impa and Roham,” Dorian said. “I’ll keep Kohga away from him and Zelda as long as I can.”

Rusl met his gaze. He opened his mouth to speak, but Link’s voice interrupted him.

“Dad.”

Rusl turned to his son. His head still hung low. His body shuttered with each breath he took. Rusl moved to him, getting to his knees and putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll get you out of here, alright?”

His head shook slowly. Tears fell onto his lap. Rusl frowned and moved his hand to his son’s head. He pressed his forehead against Link’s.

“Just hang in there, kay?”

Link did not respond to him. Rusl returned to his feet, his lips pinched together. He turned to Dorian. There was a bright flash of light and a loud crack split the air.

Link gasped for breath. His eyes moved around the room, but he was alone. There was no evidence otherwise that there had been anyone else in the room with him. He bit his lip and sobbed softly.

*****

Though the space was small, Aryll still managed to pace back and forth, from wall to wall, almost dizzying herself in the process. She ignored Mipha’s plea to stop, unable to calm her anxiety. Her hands trembled as she wracked her brain, reviewing every detail of their plan.

“Are you sure it will work?” Aryll said softly. Her pacing ceased and she gazed out the barred door.

“No,” Mipha admitted. “And I can’t heal as long as we’re in here,” she continued. “So we can’t fuck up.”

Aryll cursed softly. Already, they were both banged and bruised from the Yiga, virtually powerless against them. She was sure her bones weren’t broken, but they were definitely fractured in some places. Her wrist, being one. And it was likely they had both suffered concussions, but there was nothing either of them could do about it except pray there were no internal damages that would sneak up on them suddenly.

From what they could recall, they had been Yiga captives for almost a week. It was enough time to quickly learn their routine, time their shift changes, and form a plan for themselves to break out and find Link. It wasn’t a good plan. Far from it. But it was a plan, nonetheless. And Aryll was impatient as they waited for their chance to execute it. It wouldn’t be long before their time was up, and they would all die. It was now or never.

And their chance finally came. One of the Yiga soldiers returned to the room where they were being held. His mask was removed, and he was grinning stupidly at his phone held in one hand, while the other had a half peeled banana, which he took a large bite out of. He didn’t even glance in their direction as he made his way to sit on the other side of the room where he kicked his feet up on the table and finished his banana, still watching his phone.

Aryll glanced at Mipha, hesitant, but found reassurance in Mipha’s confident gaze. She sucked in a quiet breath and moved her gaze back to the Yiga guard, then promptly fell to the floor. The guard glanced over at them as Mipha hurried to Aryll’s side in concern. He sighed and spoke into the radio on the table.

“One of those girls just passed out,” he said in a bored tone.

“What do you mean she passed out?” came the response on the radio.

“I dunno,” he said. “She’s unconscious. What do you want me to do?”

“Boss wants them alive. Fix it.”

He frowned. “That’s more work than I agreed to.”

“Stop being an idiot,” the voice hissed. “Do what you want afterwards, but keep them alive.”

This seemed to be incentive enough for the guard. With another sigh on the edge of a groan, he got up and made his way to the cell.

“Back against the wall,” he instructed Mipha. Mipha silently obeyed, pressing her back against the hard wall as the guard entered the cell. He got into a squatting position as he looked over Aryll for a moment.

“What’s wrong with her?” he asked, though his tone suggested he did not care.

Mipha’s gaze narrowed on him. “She probably has a brain bleed,” she snarled at him.

“Hmph. What would you know?”

“I am a nurse. I can fix her if you let me.”

He shook his head. “Nothing I can’t handle,” he said arrogantly. “Don’t move.”

Mipha watched as he continued to check over Aryll, then promptly set to work on healing her. As he worked, Mipha quietly slipped off her belt. She held the leather in her hands behind her back, waiting for her moment to strike. Aryll’s eyes fluttered open and the guard stopped working. As long as she was conscious, that was all the healing she needed.

Aryll, however, thrust a fist towards him, but he was quick to catch her wrist, and she yelped in pain, the bone still fractured. He grinned down at her as he thrust her arm to the floor, pinning her.

“Nice try, you little bitch,” he hissed at her.

That was all the distraction Mipha needed. She lunged at him and brought the belt around his neck, pulling tightly against him and dragging him backwards on top of her. She grunted under his weight as they fell, but did not release her grip. He clawed at the belt in surprise for a moment, then thrust his arm aside, causing the ground to tremble in an attempt to weaken her hold.

Aryll sprang on top of him and pinned his arms to the ground in hopes of preventing him from further attacking. He started to gasp and choke as his airway was cut short, which likely weakened him. She knew she was not strong enough to fight him off, but his weakened state came to her advantage, and within moments, the Yiga fell into unconsciousness.

Mipha hesitated as Aryll stepped away from him. He was not moving, but she wasn’t completely convinced. She waited another moment before letting her hold loosen, then let the belt drop to the ground. Still, the guard did not move. Aryll kicked at his gut, but he gave no response, which was confirmation enough for Mipha. She let her fingers rest on his neck, searching for a pulse, but the Yiga guard was dead.

Mipha pulled her hand away slowly, her face whitening. “I killed him,” she said softly.

Aryll hesitated, her lips pressed together. “Let’s get out of here,” she said after a moment, reaching for Mipha’s hand and pulling her out of the cell.

They moved to the table where they quickly grabbed anything the could use as a weapon, including the guard’s own blade.

“This was the easy part, you know,” Aryll muttered. “We have no idea where Link is or how to find him.” She met Mipha’s gaze. “And we don’t stand a chance against a group of Yiga soldiers on the hunt for us.”

“We’ll wing it,” Mipha said. “Link always did.”

“And did that ever work out for you guys?” Aryll asked skeptically.

“Not really,” Mipha mumbled. “Got him gutted once or twice. We won’t be so lucky.”

Aryll pulled her gaze away. “You’re right.”

Mipha hesitated, immediately regretting what she said. “We’ll figure this out,” she said in an attempt to reassure Aryll. She shrugged. “You’re with a Champion, after all. I’ve gotten through worse.”

“Yeah,” Aryll said softly. She sucked in a breath, her expression hardening. “Well. I’m sure as fuck not dying here. So, let’s do this.”

#loz #botw #legend of zelda #breath of the wild #fic #fanfic #soty #shadows of the yiga #soty 17

[askdawnandvern]

WT: Whoo...that's a hard one to think about, especially if we keep the whole 'Night Howler' angle. After all, Dawn using night howler had a pretty clear purpose, to make predators look like they had gone feral. Doing the same to prey might not have the same impact unless you did it to megafauna or something. But let's make a drastic switch, let's change it up and see how we could make this feasible.

Changing Vernon's family from one that was very averse to 'Native Wolf' culture, and pred supremacy, to one that embraced it would be the first step. Now you have a corrupt Dorian and Audrey instilling in their children how prey are beneath them, and sub-mammals. The part of Vernon that is in his nature resists as a kid for a while, which leads to him and young Dawn still striking up a friendship. However, unlike before, it is Vernon's parents who break it up when it is discovered.

Meanwhile, in Dawn's family. Aster, instead of letting his father's last words essentially rot him from the inside outward, decides to live the life he wants for his daughter and wife. No drinking, and he goes to therapy to deal with the emotional baggage. Now we have a supportive father in the household, who sees his only daughter as a miracle and wants her to shine in whatever career she chooses.

By the time high school rolls around, Vernon is troubled. He never becomes friends with Gus, and Dawn takes his place in that friend group. Dawn becomes Gus' dungeon designer and finds that she likes creating the visuals for the world.

Vernon continues to spend his life being told by his family about how prey mammals look down their snout at predators, how they keep them under their hooves at all times, and even pointing to Dawn's grandfather as proof that it is only ever going to get worse for predators if something isn't done. And after hearing it again and again, and seeing that reluctance in prey to befriend him, Vernon begins to side with his family. More so, he latches on to the idea that if anything is going to change for predators, it was going to be up to those who knew what was truly going on to do it. So Vernon begins to take an interest in politics with the eventual plan to place preds in the prominence they deserve.

Going to Meadowland's University in place of Dawn, Vernon crosses paths with and is forced to subdue a pred hopped up on Doug's first pass at a night howler drug, and with his families skill in detective work and law, is able to track it back to Doug. After working the ram over to get the details on exactly just what the ram had done, and learning the secret of night howler, Vernon begins blackmailing the ram in order to get access to the drug. As I mentioned in the story, my take on night howler is that it simply blocks higher brain functions, while flushing the body with Adrenalin, triggering a feral flight or fight response. So building on this idea, Vernon has the ram start designing a version of the drug that cuts out the rush of adrenalin, instead making the subjects docile and complacent.

Playing his cards close to his chest, coupled with the fact that prey seem keen to elect preds to position of power despite their prejudice, Vernon couples his ticket with Lionheart to earn the rather large wolf vote in Alpine Glade.

With his place as assistant Mayor, and with Doug still under his thumb, the wolf begins the process of running large scale tests on this new 'prey pacification' drug. The goal eventually being something similar to Aster's plan, however, instead of making the city rip itself apart, the massive night howler attack would turn the city's prey populace into a bunch of docile slaves, placing them back where Vernon believed they belonged.

Lionheart of course, wouldn't be too concerned with stories of missing prey, or ones turning up shambling and mindless at the hospital. After all, it didn't exactly stand to threaten his position unless it started happening in mass and the prey populace demanded him to find the cause. However, Doug would be the weak link here. The ram would be looking to escape from working under Vernon, twisted with guilt and an even deeper hatred for preds. But his hints and leaks to the ZPD aren't being picked up on correctly...that is until Judy Hopps joins the ZPD and takes an interest in the case.

How Nick and her adventures go from there is anyone's guess. But it ends with Vernon being foiled and locked up much like Dawn was.

Dawn on the other hoof, graduates ZU and quickly gets hired as an intern at a local architecture firm. While not a mammal usually associated with construction, she'd still have better odds compared to Vernon of getting hired outright.

As for Rehab, and LAW in the scheme of things from there...I suppose they could still happen in a modified format. But I can only imagine a reformed Vernon would never, ever bring Dawn back to that universes' version of the Hunter Ranch. Whether it be due to Dorian being the leader of the second plot instead of Aster, or simply because they would all still be staunch anti-prey mammals.

Of course, that's just a first pass at the idea...

#Zootopia #ask blog #askdawnandvern #Assistant Mayor Bellwether #judy hopps #Nick Wilde #wastedtimeee #dawn bellwether #au

[honestlywilde]

5 OTPs and 10 Facts About Me

Stolen from @gaysparkler because these ask memes are wonderful ice-breakers to chatting with and making new friends amongst my followers.

5 OTPs

Elizabeth Bennet x Fitzwilliam Darcy- I read this book and got started on these two very young, and immediately after reading had to watch every adaptation I could find (Thus began my obsession with Colin Firth. lol). I don’t even know where to begin with them, because I love them so, and so much has been said of them already, but I love reading and watching the evolution of their relationship. And Darcy respecting Elizabeth’s boundaries after she rejects him? Yeah, that’s definitely attractive.

Jane Eyre x Edward Rochester- Not unlike Mr. Rochester (though there’s just something about men in this romantic period novels being rubbish at expressing it), Jane Eyre was definitely love at first sight/read. I love her fiery spirit, her stubbornness and that she proved herself independent and more than capable. She doesn’t need Mr. Rochester to get by or even be happy. She takes him back on her own terms. I think that’s awesome.

Remus Lupin x Sirius Black- There are a great many things I love about the Harry Potter books. If you get me started, we might be here all day. That said among my complaints/critiques about it, chief among them would be these two. Implied LGBTQIA is nice, but representation is always better. I guard the headcanon that these two had some deeper romantic relationship between the two of them with my life. Not for a moment am I invalidating their incredible friendship, or his later relationship with Tonks, I love that. But as a young closeted bisexual kid, longing for representation, I saw a lot of parallels and a kind of kindred spirit with Remus Lupin. I will always ship him with happiness, and to my mind reading (and rereading) the series he and Sirius deserved that with one another. The war and Voldemort robbed them.

Garrus x Shepard- Every time I play through ME I tell myself I’m going to romance someone else, then I hit ME2 and my resolve always wavers. I just love their mutual admiration and respect for one another. Admittedly, I think as a narrative it might have been more interesting and in line with the headcanons about my Shepard not to jump from friends to friends with benefits before establishing a sort of romantic relationship, but it’s still beautiful and I love it to pieces, especially in ME3. The shooting competition, dancing together, & all the times he refers to Shepard as his girlfriend with such a sense of pride in the Citadel DLC.

Hawke x Fenris- Dragon Age 2 was actually my first Dragon Age game, so my first Hawke will always have a special place in my heart. I played a male mage, and like my Hawke was immediately drawn to the Broody elf. As anyone who plays the class will tell you, romancing Fenris as a mage siding with his fellows will tell you it takes some additional effort, but it’s so worth it. As a domestic abuse survivor, I have so much respect for those responsible for the narrative including Fenris pulling away to examine himself as an individual and try to heal after their first night together before pursuing more of a relationship with Hawke, despite the fact it’s clearly hard for him because he cares for the other so much. Fenris deserves happiness and love, and it’s so rewarding to see that come to fruition.

(Full disclosure, as most of you who follow my blog know, there are a great many other ships in my armada, cannon and not, but these are among the first five that came to mind. Honorary mentions/close runners-up include: Newt Geiszler x Hermann Gottlieb, Dorian Pavus x Inquisitor, Warden x Alistair Theirin, Cassandra Pentaghast x Varric Tethras, M!Shepard x Kaidan Alenko, Fox Mulder x Dana Scully, and many more.)

10 facts about me

1. I’m pretty much completely incapable of reading a book, or watching a show/movie without developing feels, headcanons, and/or writing additional scenes in my head. And I’m totally fine with that.

2. I read an average of anywhere from 15 to 75k words per day in fanfic for the many fandoms/pairings I enjoy.

3. I absolutely love music. That said because I am an auditory learner as well as neurodivergent some songs I can’t listen to without instantly being transported back to a certain memory and the mood I was in then when I heard that song.

4. I’ve always loved and wanted tattoos (Sleeves, truth be told), but grew up with very conservative parents that wouldn’t allow it and convinced me I’d never get a job with any. I’ve finally decided on and drawn up the design for my first tattoo and am hoping to get it for myself for Christmas this year.

5. I had hair that went halfway down my back until I was a senior in high school, and have been steadily getting it cut progressively shorter ever since. I shaved one side of my head for the first time this year and have been loving it. I feel empowered, and experience dysphoria just a bit less often with it.

6. The first selfie I posted on Facebook with the aforementioned haircut, earned several concerned messages from my extended and conservative family members asking if I was sick because a medical procedure was the only reason they could conceive of a woman shaving any amount of her hair off.

7. I used to be physically and verbally bullied in school. I lacked the strength or confidence to fight back, but finally one day toward the end of one school year one of my bullies tripped me. I fell flat on my face and all my books and things went flying everywhere. The bully kicked me hard in the ribs and made it clear they weren’t planning on stopping anytime soon and I decided I’d had enough. I somehow managed to get them down on the floor with me, and promptly sat my “fat ass” right in the middle of their chest and waited while they struggled and hurled insults at me until a teacher showed up. I still don’t think I deserved detention, but I have no regrets. 8. I cannot stand styrofoam. Touching it, or hearing that sort of high-pitched scratchy noise when it brushes against something? Yeah, it’s like nails down a chalkboard for me. I experience full-body shudders every time. Even packing peanuts will do it. So, of course, my husband takes perverse pleasure in tormenting me with it.

9. As a young preteen, I let my aunt teach me how to use a sewing machine for the sole purpose of being able to make more of my own pieces for cosplay costumes rather than relying on buying something close to what I needed or wanted. She doesn’t entirely get why I love it so much, but I still send her progress shots and selfies with each new costume I put together.

10. My favorite pick-me-up when I’m in a funk is to throw on a wig, maybe some basic makeup, a casual cosplay outfit, blast my music and dance around the house.

I never know who to tag and I’m not sure who’s already done this, so I’ll tag @winternoble ,@seaweedredandbrown ,@heatherfield , and anyone else who’s interested. Make sure you tag me, I’d love to read your answers and get to know you better! <3

#jane eyre #pride and prejudice #dragon age #dragon age: origins #dragon age 2 #dragon age: inquisition #da:o #da2 #da:i #about the blogger

[dragonagecompanions]

DAI companions and advisers reacting to Teen!Lavellan post trespasser getting black out drunk after finding out that the elven religion is a big ass sham built on slavery and brainwashing? Especially the andrastian companions, to whom they ask "are you happy now?" (because I am a horrible horrible person :3)

Cassandra: The question cuts her to the core, and in thatmoment the Seeker cannot help but remember every time that she could havesupported them –encouraged their beliefs rather than questioning their faith-and she feel sick. Was she so desperate for the Chantry to be salvageable andher mentor to be avenged that she was willing to cast her own Exalted March ontheir lives? The answer to that frightens her, but where that might once havecaused her to lash out she instead holds her peace. At this young elf’s sideshe has learned patience and understanding, even against her instincts. And soshe does not respond to the question as they expected, but simply folds theminto a stilted hug.

“Who could find happiness in the face of such pain? I amsorry for all that you suffer, and will be with you through this as you stoodbeside me when my own faith was shaken.”

Varric: He’s by no means a Theologian, but no one in theInquisition is better suited to handle misplaced drunken anger. It’s not asituation that can be handled with a story about Hawke or some tale fromKirkwall though, and so the dwarf grabs a pint of his own and sits next with atired sigh.

“I walked away from the Stone, you know. Bartrand neverreally did, I don’t think, but it never mattered to me. It was part of Orzammarand the whole backwards way of life they have below the surface. The Maker andthe Chantry…they were sort of trappings of surfacers and so I stepped into thatat first. And…shit, I don’t know if the Maker is really there or not, but I’vealso never had to stand there and have someone I trusted tell me that he’s amurdering lunatic either.” He downs some of the alcohol and pats them on theshoulder. “I’m not happy about this, Kid. No one is. But you fixed ourreligious shit when it was broken, so we’ll do what we can to return the favor.”

Solas: While he’s not there in the aftermath, Solas felttheir despair in the crossroads. Everything the Dalish had taught them is turningto ash before their eyes, and in truth a part of him weeps for the Da’len. Forone so young they showed such wisdom and understanding, and to cause pain inwhat they had always trusted in brings him no joy. But it was for other youngelves that he had made his choices in the first place, and he must followthrough for them now. And yet the sight of them in pain and crushed will haunthim for many nights to come.

Vivienne: She is not, but the question does not offend her. Theyoung elf before her has proven to be a true friend more than once, and despitetheir years she has always trusted them to make the best decisions. More importantlyin this particular moment is the fact then when her world was falling apart –whenBastan was dying before her and nothing she was trying was going to work- they hright there for her. Fighting dangerous animals in dragon ridden territory fora mage whose believes are in contradiction to their own. But Madame de Fer haswatched them grow from a young elf more frightened by their surroundings thanthey wanted to admit into a confident Inquisitor learning to navigate power andpolitical turmoil like they were born to it.

But now they need someone who isn’t so deeply involved, andshe has been made of iron for far longer than they have. “I am angry, darling.Angry for you, angry for what has happened. I will stand for you in this, evenif you don’t want me to right now. None of us are happy for your suffering, mydear, but we will help you to make it right.”

Blackwall: Thom Ranier oncestood on the side of a road in Orlais and lost faith in all he believed in, andnow –decades later and hopefully wiser- it hurts to watch the same thing happento a younger and far more innocent person. Their pain resonates with what hehad felt when Gaspard betrayed everything he had fought for, when the GrayWardens had crumbled beneath him. Bht there was no one to catch him then—he isstanding both arms ready if they stumble.

“Never happy for that,lad/lass. But here for you, when you are ready to be again.”

Sera: The resulting argumentis loud and painful and full of words that neither of them mean, but when thedust has settled and the wounds have healed the fight is the best thing thatcan happen. They might be far more elfier than she ever wants to be, but Serahas always cared about the little people. And right now, with only one hand andno sobriety and so much pain in them Sera can only see them as someone whoneeds a Red Jenny at their back.

“Nobs and gods and all doesn’tmatter. We’re going to fix it, yeah? We fixed the sky and we can fix this.” Andwhen the inquisitor finally breaks down it’s on her shoulder.

Dorian:  Maker how many times has this been him?Sitting in a tavern and too drunk to think or speak anything but exactly whatis burning through him in that moment. And its more than he can bear. Lavellanprobably doesn’t know what is going on before he is hugging them tight. He can’tstand to see them hurt, and quite honestly his faith has never been a huge partof his life. But he knows that they are hurting, and for the teen who has beenstrong enough to stand before Orlesians and Fereldens and Magister Halwardfucking Pavus Dorian can find some strength to stand for them.

“Happy? No. But I am herefor you, and whatever you need. You are so strong, and I am sure you can do this.I know you can.”

Iron Bull: He’s lucky enoughto be spared the pained questions, but that means that all he is left with isgrief. And if he has lost the Qun then Bull is right there. He knows exactlyhow he feels, exactly how it feels to have everything you believe destroyedthrough what you care about. And he would never trade the Chargers, he’s madethat choice and will gladly live with it. But they are so young and so shaken,and all he wants to do is wrap them up like the Tamassran he truly is and takecare of them.

“Easy, imekari. We can’t fixthis right now, we can’t make this better. But we will.” And his bg hands aregentle as they rest on their shoulder, very subtly pushing the alcohol away.

Cole: “So much hurting andeverything is gone, why would he do this why why why.” The pain is so much, andCole doesn’t know how to stop it. But he sits with them and after awhile that’senough.

Josephine: She just wants to hold them. Oh how many times has she said, out loud, that she thinks they are the Herald of Andraste or that it would be easier if they were the herald of Andraste? How many times has she not dismissed their beliefs, but simply forgot about them in the face of her other duties. They are younger than Yvette but already so burdened with responsibility and she could have been helping instead of making it worse.

She probably doesn’t say much and might have to leave to hide her ters, but the next morning the Inquisitor wakes up in a darkened room with everything needed for a hang over and a letter in Josephine’s hand outlying the first political steps needed to stop Solas and the promise of her total support.

Leliana: Its a hard question for the most Andrastian spy master who ever walked the earth. If she still truly believes that the Maker spoke to her during the Blight then she is, in a way, even more sympathetic to them. She knows what it is to face your gods and come out changed from it. And they are so young, younger even than the warden was. Her protective instincts are in full force, and it comes out in her answer.

“I am happy you came back. I am happy we have the chance to protect you now, when we couldn’t afford to before. I am so happy that you are safe. The rest can be fixed.”

Cullen: Maker’s breath where does he even start? How many times did he cry out to the Maker, to Andraste, to anyone he thought would hear him in Kinloch. For a long time he thought no one answered, though later he was able to accept that the Warden was very likely an answer to those. But while most Andrastians are raised from birth to believe that the Maker has turned his face from them he knows that the Dalish have different beliefs. And finding out that your gods are actually evil rather than locked away but general caring can’t be easy. Still...

“Happy that you aren’t actually the Herald of Andraste? Actually yes.” At their incredulous look he reddens and rubs his neck awkwardly. “It’s such a burden for one so young, and we know you don’t believe, so this means that you can finally just go back to beig you and have as normal a life as is--”

At that point the inquisitor is probably just holding onto them and blubbering because they haven’t had anyone really encourage them to give up the role, so he just awkwardly pats them on the back and starts to lead them to the door.

–Mod Fereldone

[philipeisagoldengod]

DO ALL OF THE ASKS, BBY - Alexandre

OKAY HON I WILL!!! MME. HIBBINS WOULD DEFINITELY APPROVE OF MY ANSWERS!!• Anubis: How do you feel about death?

o Oh, death? I guess it’ll happen when it’ll happen, y’know? I’m not too worried! I’d just rather not die painfully through like an infection or poison or something like that.

• Atum: What are your greatest imperfections?

o Nothing, I’m perfect :)

• Bastet: Do you have any cats?

o Yes, one deplorable character called Nestor, who always somehow finds a way to pICK A FIGHT WITH ME

• Hathor: What brings you joy?

o Everything beautiful and bright! But more specifically, pretty girls, puppies, children, curly hair, science, plants, sunlight, makeup, glitter, and bracelets.

• Horus: What is one thing you've had to fight for in your life?

o Hmm... not much, to be honest. But, I’d have to say Victoire, ma belle rose, the love and light of my life~ Circumstances just wouldn’t let us be together, until finally we could!

• Osiris: Do you believe in the underworld?

o But of course! I don’t think of it as hellish, though-- rather, I prefer to believe in a more neutral setting where the deceased wander aimlessly and think of their life. Or, reincarnation may be an interesting theory!

• Ra: Do you have any major responsibilities or importance?

o Oh, of course. I am central to my household. They would do nothing without me. Maybe cry.

• Thoth: Do you like to read/write?

o I love both! I consider myself a fabulous writer, although my brother does say otherwise… But I believe in myself!

• Arawn: What is the most terrifying thing you've ever done?

o Ooh, this is hard, since my whole life has been quite an adventure! I’d have to say sneaking into Victoire’s house that one time she was mad at me and I wanted to make it up to her. I… I still have nightmares about Alphonse *shivers*.

• Bran: How is your health?

o I am in perfect health! Really! I have a ridiculously sexy body. And I always make sure my skin, hair, nails, lips, and teeth are properly cared for~ The only issue I might have is that my stomach often gets upset. But I don’t think you want to hear any details about that!

• Brighid: Tell us about your relationship with your father.

o Oh… My father? I mean, I didn’t know him all that well, since he died when I was very young, but he seemed nice, I guess? My mother used to tell me that I was just like him! The one thing which stood out to me about him was the story my mother told me of my name; she and my father had both wanted to actually name me “Philippe,” but come the day of my birth, my father had drank an alarming amount of absinthe and was in the hospital himself while my mother was in labor. When the time came to name me, my mother asked my father to sign it, and unfortunately, he spelled my name as “Philipe” instead.

• Cernunnos: What is your favorite animal?

o I love puppies! They are so loyal, friendly, warm, and loving, traits which I feel are of utmost importance for a pet.

• Danu: What is your relationship with your mother?

o My mother was probably one of the most important people in my life. She was really caring and gentle, and really stayed firm despite anything that happened to us. She wasn’t just laid back, either—after my father died and his estate went to our uncle, Antoine’s father, she managed to convince him that we would manage it well and was able to fight for us to keep it. In addition, she raised us on her own in a city foreign to her and never wavered or showed any regret for our presence. She and I were… very close. I really do miss her still, since she passed only about six years ago.

• Morrigan: What do you think happens when we die?

o Didn’t I answer something similar? I believe in a fairly neutral underworld, possibly reincarnation. Oh! But you know what would be great? An afterlife where I’m surrounded by hundreds of buff, ginger, bearded men all wearing revealing outfits and caressing my cheek as they praise me and sing me poems they’ve composed for me!

• Olwen: What is your favorite flower?

o I love so many, it’s hard to choose! My favorites are probably a tie between roses, lilies, and lavenders—I love them all equally!

• Rhiannon: Have you ever been betrayed?

o Hm… my brother has turned his back on me many times, but I wouldn’t count that as betrayal, more bitter teenage angst. So no one, I guess; everybody loves me!

• Bragi: What kind of music do you listen to?

o Oh, I looooooooove Gregorian chant! It’s so hip, so cool, so nouvelle, so swell and popular with the kids~~

• Freya: Have you ever been in love?

o OH BOY DO I NEED TO ANSWER THIS??!! YES!!! VICTOIRE!! LISETTE!! RANDOM UNNAMED GIRL FROM PROVENCE WHO I FORGOT!! ROBERT!! JOSEPHINE!! ALAIN!! ANATOLE!! EUGÈNE!! DELPHINE!! MICHEL!! HORTENSE!! LISELOTTE!! LUCIEN!! BENOIT!! AND MANY OTHERS, I’M SORRY IF I LEFT YOU OUT!!

• Freyr: Do you have any children?

o I have two beautiful, perfect, outstanding, brilliant, bright children, who I treasure more than life itself. Louis Chevalier, a brave and gentle soul who loves all and creates, never destroying, and Henriette Chevalier, a bright fiery ball of passion, dedicating to leaving the world better than when she first encountered it.

• Hœnir: Are you a silent or talkative person?

o I’d like to consider myself a brooding, silent romantic hero, but Victoire always says I open my mouth too much and ruin my image :(

• Iounn: How old are you?

o That’s for me to know and you to ponder about, my dear ;)

• Loki: What is the best trick you've ever pulled on someone?

o Oh dear! I’d have to say it was that time when I was mad at me brother for letting his hair grow soooooooo long his bangs covered his eyes! I didn’t know what to do, since our stylist was out sick, so I asked Mme. Hibbins to work some magic with her gardening shears and… well… it was magic, all right.

• Odin: What is your family like?

o My family is like the solar system, and I am the sun! Let’s see… Mercury would probably be Céleste, since, like the god Mercury, I always sends her running around on errands and to carry messages and such! Venus would, of course, be Victoire, because her seductive allure and dazzling splendor just could not keep me away! Earth would be Dorian, since he would cry if I separated him from his precious vegetables and because he appears very… fecund. Mars would, of course, be my brother, because of his belligerent spirit and desire to be as cool as I am (spoiler alert: he’s not). Jupiter and Saturn would be my lovelies Henriette and Louis, since they are the biggest things in my universe

• Thor: Would you consider yourself pretty powerful?

o Oh yes, I’m a Philipe-shaped bottle of raw, rough power! (That sounded better in my head, oh well!)

• Tree: What have you done with your life? What are you going to do with it?

o I… uh, what have I done? I mean, I have a nice house? And I love my family! So I just plan to spend the rest of my life basking in my own glory, I guess.

• Aphrodite: What do you think of yourself?

o I consider myself the hottest thing alive since the burning witches in Salem :)

• Ares: Are you an easy person to anger?

o I mean, normally I’m not, buuuut… sometimes, when I do get angry, I lash out very easily and say things I don’t mean.

• Athena: Would you consider yourself an artist?

o But of course! This self-portrait just says it all:

• Apollo: Do you play any instruments?

o I play the electric triangle! And yes, Raphaël, that is a real instrument, stop laughing at me!!

• Dionysus: Do you drink?

o I mean, I drink a little wine or champagne in moderation, ignoring the engagement party absinthe, but generally I never drink too much—seeing what it did to my father has deterred me from indulging in excesses, you know?

• Hades: Do you have a bad reputation?

o Of course not, everybody loves me!

• Hekate: Have you ever tried to communicate with the dead?

o What? No! Maybe Mme. Hibbins did that one time in the local cemetery late at night in September, but I wasn’t there! I didn’t dig open a grave! I didn’t pour in a sack of moldy potatoes! I swear!

• Hermes: Have you ever stolen anything?

o Everyone’s hearts~ ;)

• Poseidon: Are you a moody person?

o Yes, I am fairly prone to sudden changes in mood—like, one moment, I’ll be at the dinner table thinking about how hamsters blink one eye at a time, and the next, I’m filled with emotion and want to have sex with Victoire on top of the church roof. I know, I know, I won’t do it… I guess…

• Zeus: Are you a confident person?

o I would say I’m pretty humble, but Raphaël keeps hitting me when I do, so for my own safety, I’ll have to say yes.

• Jupiter: Would people say that you are intimidating or fairly approachable?

o I think people think of me as fairly approachable! I’d hope so, at least!

• Pluto: Where do you think we go when we die?

o I’VE ANSWERED THIS QUESTION TWICE BEFORE

• Apollo & Dianna: Do you prefer to be up during the day or at night?

o I like sunshine and brightness, so the day! Although, I do enjoy… my nightly activities… heh

• Mars: Have you ever gotten into a fight?

o Yes, a few times. Not a physical altercation, but I’ve fought with pretty much every person I’ve ever met. Wow, is that an accomplishment?

• Minerva: Do you generally give good advice?

o I think I do, but whenever I give advice, Céleste sighs, Victoire shakes her head, Raphaël leaves the room, Dorian closes his eyes and pretends he’s not there, and basically everyone in my family acts like they don’t trust me, I’m very hurt.

• Proserpine: Have you ever felt trapped?

o One time, Victoire handcuffed me to the bed, but the key fell behind the radiator and the curtains somehow caught fire. We had to call the fire department, while I was in a burning room handcuffed to a bed naked. It was… an experience.

• Plutus: Do you have a job?

o Nah, not really; I don’t need to if I have enough of an inheritance to support myself. Most of my income comes from the property I rent out, anyway.

• Venus: Have you ever had your heart broken?

o Mine? No, not really. It’s hard for me to feel broken or hurt by things like romance. Usually, I’m the one who leaves, but if someone leaves me, I’ll either persistently nag my way back to them or just move on.

• Vesta: Do you like being home or do you try to get out whenever you can?

o I try to get out, I love going outside!

• Morpheus: Do you daydream often? Of what?

o I daydream… of things which are too obscene, even for me, to speak of! Let me just say one involved a bag of autumn leaves, my naked body, a man from the future named Nicolas Cage, and a 5 meter tall bottle of Cheez Whiz.

[katedoesfics]

Shadows of the Future | Chapter 77

Crawling in the Dark - Hoobastank

I will dedicate and sacrifice my everything for just a second’s worth of how my story's ending. And I wish I could know if the directions that I take, and all the choices that I make won't end up all for nothing. Show me what it's for. Make me understand it. I've been crawling in the dark looking for the answer. Is there something more than what I've been handed? I've been crawling in the dark looking for the answer. Help me carry on, assure me it's ok to use my heart and not my eyes to navigate the darkness. Will the ending be ever coming suddenly? Will I ever get to see the ending to my story?

Rusl was leaning on the hood of his car when Dorian appeared before him. They held their gazes on one another for a moment. Their relationship was tense, to say the least, and it reflected in their hesitance toward one another. The only thing Rusl knew was that Dorian had heard his message, and he had come. Whether he would continue to cooperate, however, Rusl couldn’t be sure.

“What do you need?” Dorian asked calmly.

Rusl hesitated. “The Champions need all the help they can get,” he started. “They’ll go after the Yiga Clan by themselves. But I won’t let it come down to that. We can’t stop them, so the least we can do is give them a damn fighting chance.”

“You’re right,” Dorian said. “They aren’t in this alone. They’ll fare much better with the Sheikah on their side.”

“You’ll help?”

“I can’t give you all of my men,” Dorian started.

“Like, maybe ten?” Rusl grinned.

A smile pulled at his lips. “Eleven.”

“Gee,” Rusl said dryly. “That’s real swell of ya.”

Dorian slipped his hands in his pockets and pulled his gaze away. “It’s the least I can do,” he said. “I haven’t exactly been doing well keeping my promise to you.”

Rusl frowned. “No, I should never have asked anything of you,” he said. “Link and Aryll, their safety is my responsibility, not yours.” He sighed softly. “You’ve had way too much on your plate, D. I’m sorry. This isn’t your job.”

“You’re right,” Dorian said. “My job is to protect the royal family and the chosen heroes. And that’s my job just because I’m a Sheikah.” He hesitated, his brows knit together. “I didn’t get to choose any of this. It’s just expected of me. But protecting you and Link and Aryll… that’s not a job. That’s a choice. It’s the one choice I’ve been able to make. So, don’t apologize. At the end of the day, everything I do is for you and them.”

Rusl pulled his gaze away. “I know I haven’t made things easy for you,” he said. “But… I know I won’t come out of this alive.” He hesitated. “I won’t throw it away but… Just promise me… just one more favor.” He looked up and met Dorian’s gaze. “Make sure it’s not for nothing. They need to survive this. That’s all I ask.”

Dorian looked away. He wanted to argue with him. He wanted to find another way. But time was not on their side. And despite all this, he couldn’t bring any words out even if he wanted to, his throat seemingly closing up completely as he faced the reality of the situation. He was right; Hylia had said so herself. All these years, he knew it would come to this. And now, that time was here. Time. Time was all he wanted. Just a little more time.

His gaze moved to the horizon; there were still a few hours before the sun would begin to light the sky. He had an army to assemble, and a clan of rogue Sheikah to destroy. A world to save. A friend to watch die.

He glanced at Rusl and met his gaze, then moved toward him.

Rusl’s breath caught in his throat as Dorian stood before him. Their eyes locked, and Rusl instinctively reached for Dorian, pulling him closer. Their lips met, softly at first as the fire sparked inside of them. Dorian pressed against him, deepening their kiss. After a moment, Rusl pulled away slightly. Their foreheads touched as they stood together in a silent moment, and Rusl sighed softly.

He couldn’t bring himself to pull away from Dorian. But they no longer had the nights they once had. Dawn would come in just a few short hours, and they needed all the time they had to prepare the Champions for their war against the Yiga. He pushed against Dorian’s chest, ignoring the sharp pain in his heart as Dorian stepped back.

Rusl stood and pulled his gaze away, walking around the car toward the driver’s side door. He opened it and hesitated, meeting Dorian’s gaze again. His heart broke for the pain he caused Dorian, the pain that reflected in his eyes. But the air pulled, and in a snap, Dorian was gone. Rusl slid in behind the wheel, turning the key in the ignition and peeled away back onto the road.

*****

Jini’s gaze was focused on his phone when the door opened, though he heard the footsteps outside just shortly before. His ears twitched slightly, but he did not look up as his unexpected visitor stepped inside.

“Appointments only,” he said in a disinterested tone. “That goes for pigs, too.”

“That’s cute.”

Jini looked up from his phone, recognizing the voice, and peered into the shadow by the doorway. His eyes widened as Rusl stepped out of the shadows, then a wicked grin split his face. He crossed his arms.

“Well I’ll be fuckin’ damned,” he said. “And here I thought you were dead.”

Rusl stopped at the table in front of Jini, his hands in his pockets. His lips pulled into a crooked smile. “Keeping yourself busy I hear?”

“That depends,” Jini said. “Definitely haven’t been giving that kid of yours stolen, illegal weapons.”

“I didn’t think so.”

“He’s got balls, just like you.” He pulled a dagger out of the table and inspected it. “No one comes knocking on my door for that shit without a good reason.” He narrowed his gaze on Rusl. “What have you been up to?”

“Me?” Rusl responded in feigned defense, and his grin widened.

Jini made a sound of disapproval. “Guess they know better than to fuck with you.” He pointed the sharp end of the dagger at Rusl. “I’m guessing you’re not here to reminisce on old times.” He spread his arms out. “Can I interest you in some of my goods?”

“I’m not here for your shit,” Rusl said.

Jini raised a questioning brow. “If you think you can bust me -”

“I have a proposition,” Rusl said simply.

Jini held his gaze on Rusl for a moment, then his smile returned. “Do you?”

“It’s a suicide mission.”

“You know those are my favorite kind.” He twisted the dagger into the table. “And I guess I would be an idiot to say no to you.” He glanced at Rusl. “Still got those moves?”

Rusl chose not to answer him. “I need an army.”

Jini pulled his gaze away. He rubbed at his chin thoughtfully, looking up at the ceiling. “You must really be desperate to come to me.” He cocked a brow at Rusl. “Gone rogue, have we?”

“Are you in or out?”

“I forgot you don’t enjoy foreplay,” Jini said. A pleased grin split his face when Rusl’s nose wrinkled. “Alright, alright,” he said. “You know I’ll hook you up. Just tell me who we’re fucking up.”

“The Yiga Clan.”

“You know just how to pleasure a man, Rusl. I’ve got a boner just thinking about Yiga heads rolling.”

“What do you know?”

He crossed his arms and inspected the blade. “Not much,” he said. “A source told me your son was trying to fuck up their day.”

“Who’s your source?”

Jini glanced at him, then shrugged. “A washed up bartender who helps me smuggle my goods to some clients.”

“Kit,” Rusl growled.

Jini’s brow raised. “You know him?”

Rusl’s brow furrowed. “What else?” he pressed.

Jini grinned. “What do you want, Rusl?”

“Everything.”

“Well, I don’t -”

“Don’t fuck with me,” Rusl snapped. “I know you know something.”

“What are you willing to pay for my information?”

Rusl lunged at Jini, grabbing the collar of his shirt and slamming him down onto the table. Jini grabbed at Rusl just as quickly, pulling him hard against him and flinging him over and off of him, but as he moved to return to his feet, he was greeted by Rusl’s outstretched palm, and he froze. He studied Rusl carefully, then grinned.

“There it is,” he said softly. “You’ll get your answers just as soon as you teach me that.”

Rusl held his hard gaze on Jini. “Tell me and maybe I won’t tip off the Sheikah to your location.”

Jini frowned. “Why do you have to take the fun out of everything?”

Rusl’s gaze hardened and Jini sighed.

“Alright,” he said in an annoyed tone. “I’m doing this because I find you tolerable, Rusl. Not because I fucking give a shit who your connections are.”

“The feeling is not mutual,” Rusl said, keeping his hand raised toward him.

Jini smiled. “Well, I’m afraid my information might not be that useful to you.” His expression turned serious. “There was a blonde women who would contact me from time to time. She was interested in my biggest customer. But I’ve never met him or spoken to him.”

“Who is he?”

Jini shrugged. “Couldn’t tell ya,” he said. “But this woman suspected he was working with the Yiga Clan. She was a Hylian woman. She gave me a card once, but all it had was a number on it. I never called, and she never called me.”

Rusl’s heart lept in his throat. His arm lowered and he held his gaze on Jini. He watched as Jini moved to a bookshelf. He flipped through a few notebooks and containers until he pulled out an image, then moved back toward Rusl and handed it to him. It was a black and white image taken from security footage. Though it was grainy, Rusl immediately recognized the woman as the same woman that approached him in Tabantha.

His heart stopped as he stared at the image in his hands and his mind flooded with questions as he tried to piece Jini’s information together. He didn’t think Kohga would reach out to a measly arms dealer when his own power would do far more damage than even a nuclear bomb. So, who could have been doing business with Jini? And what did this woman know about the Yiga Clan?

There seemed to be so much more to this war than he realized, just when he thought he finally had a handle on it all. Maybe Dorian was right; maybe he wasn’t meant to die just yet. Not now while there were still so many unanswered questions. He had to get to the bottom of it before it was too late.

He let the photo drop onto the table and he turned back to Jini, his brows furrowed fiercely. “Find her,” he hissed.

Jini grinned. “Still want that army?”

Rusl turned his back on him. “Everyone you can get,” he said. “I want her alive.”

#sotf #shadows of the future #loz #botw #legend of zelda #breath of the wild #fic #fanfic #sotf77