We know what it wasn't a big secret to the cult of Bhaal what their Chosen (Durge) is a lil (a lot) obsessed with the Chosen of Bane.
Orin def told everyone who would listen about it, as Balthazar's note on "Prayer for Forgiveness" might imply.
But have we thought about the other side of this?
How many of Bane's servants present at Gortash's coronation saw Durge and went "Ugh, not them again. ANYONE but them. Dark Lord Bane, we serve you well and do not deserve this".
How many of banites had to watch their Chosen act like a lovesick fool at his own coronation and tried very hard not to cringe?
Like bhaalists were not pleased with their Chosen's affections, but I bet Gortash was INSUFFERABLE with Durge by his side.
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Does Hed help Les with grooming his back?
This is a really old ask about this post. And the answer is yes, definitely!
I ended up drawing them back in their room in Vibe City because I've been thinking a lot about them growing up there lately. This is a little before Les gets kicked out (big fight with dad) and they end up traveling around with Flea who is at uni at this point. (Flea isn't a local, he moved there because of uni a couple of years prior, and that's when Les and Hed met him. He is the only other mixed/non-fully funk troll they know at that point.)
In the drawing Hed is studying for a test. He's in the second year of high school when he drops out. This upsets and angers Les because he has good grades but Hed insists that they should form a band (like they used to talk about when younger) because he is secretly shit scared of letting Les live alone and fuck off to who knows where. - At this point in time Vibe City is pretty much grounded in the same location most of the time, and if Les doesn't have work, he likes to spend his time in the suburb/woods outside the city where he takes care of his beetle van, Scaab. And Hed is aware Les has been itching to leave the city for a while already...
This has been an unexpected mini lore dump, thank you for your time :P
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Blue skies smiling at me
Nothing but blue skies, all I see...
—
Although it does not depict a scene from the fic, this piece was greatly inspired by @fushiglow's glorious work Over the Threshold (is anyone surprised by it anymore, lol?). The part of Glo's story that sees Suguru rising to prominence and stardom even before Satoru's first ventures in the music industry isn't (yet? 👀) covered in the fic, but my mind tapped into it and ran with it — and this came to me as a result!
Hope y'all will enjoy this as much as I did drawing it!! Literally had the time of my life with Satoru's jacket and Suguru's hair, teehee!
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Many on Quesadilla island believe that Fitmc was very much closeted to himself and the world up until he arrived on the QSMP, but perhaps that closet wasn't quite as locked as some may presume.
With the environment of 2b2t being so rife with hatred and homophobia, a deep and meaningful relationship was always out of the question. But within its depths lay the rub, of Fit, going through the all too familiar queer experience of being very aware of his sexuality against this toxic landscape, and knowing the possibility of others out there being just like him. Others whom he could never risk reaching out to in public, but longed to all the same.
He'd heard and seen his fair share of casual to severe homophobia, as well as witnessing with some amusement how the homoerotic tension some players swear against can tear factions apart. He knows all too well the irony that comes with a land so dominated by toxic masculinity and bigotry. This is a place where a man will stare you in the eyes, caress your cheek so gently, then spit in your face in disgust before insta-killing you. Of course, the price for outing somebody in such a place is a pretty penny for sure. Being a blank slate in the land of anarchy is your strongest asset. The last thing you want to do is throw fuel onto the fire and give people even more of a reason to put your head on a spike.
And so, he kept his feelings repressed- for the most part. He'd hide a blush as he melted internally over a handshake with a particularly muscular allied base leader. He'd allow himself the luxury of a poster, of an old Hollywood western starring a (very) dashing cowboy, that he'd stick crudely on the bedroom wall of wherever he'd end up staying for a while. But perhaps, just a couple times, he'd had a few small but significant experiences: the touch of a hand on his for just a fraction too long, warm eyes from a face he can't quite remember looking him up and down, all but rendering him breathless. Split second opportunities that would make those feelings bubble up to the surface, too strong to ever truly ignore. Being a lone mercenary in a world of anarchy is all well and good, but God does it get lonely.
He and Pac like to take things slow. It's a mutual decision. Neither of them have ever truly felt the need to sit down and discuss why. Fit wouldn't like him to know what he thinks about whenever the subject drifts towards the two of them going any further with their relationship. Every time Pac makes any kind of suggestive advance, heck, even if he looks at the man for too long, his mind can't help but think back to one quiet night on 2b2t, so many years ago. Flashes of encountering a stranger, deep underground, of a clumsy, desperate kiss. Stubble on stubble, the raw smell of dirt and sweat and cigarette smoke. He remembers the thrill, the terrifying electricity of it all, until a clatter was heard in the cave behind them and the moment was gone forever. It meant everything and nothing at the same time, that chance encounter. It was the closest he'd ever came to a real connection with somebody. He didn't know what became of the other man who so urgently whispered 'run', into his ear. He could have killed Fit right there, made a point of it, and yet he didn't. The mere memory of it petrified him, but by God, did he feel alive.
All the same, he didn't dare risk anything like that again. That was until he came to the QSMP, a place where he didn't have to hide himself from others, but still he airs on the side of caution. He's afraid of getting things wrong, of throwing himself into something he can't run away from. This isn't just some random encounter with a player in 2b2t. Pac is different. Fit knows he's got a past of his own, he sees how it torments him sometimes. What if daring to make a move, even kissing him opens up old wounds for the both of them?
Fit's no longer hiding in the dark. Making things 'official' with Pac is not a once in a lifetime chance, but the longer Fit hangs around him he feels like it is. He wants to keep Pac safe just as he kept himself safe for all those years. When he finally lets himself get closer to his roommate, one wrong move and another hypothetical cave noise could sound, followed by the form of something even more terrible that could rip the two apart forever and send Fit straight back to square one.
Slow and steady wins the race. Slow and steady keeps them both safe.
But God, what he'd give to feel that thrill again.
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