#THE CREATORS ARE SO FOUL FOR THIS LINE!!!!!!! BUT I LOVE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!

[maddymoreau]

[zillasvilla]

Beyond the lights

Warnings: Smut, Foul language, use of n-word, mentions of violence and sex-trafficking. Minors DNI.

Summary: Soraya deals with the negative press of an incoming court date while focusing on a new stage of her relationship with Joshua. Pairing: Jey Uso x Black OC Word Count: 7.4k words

A/N: I had meant to post this a few days ago, however, family things happened the past few weeks, so enjoy the long chapter I finally figured out how to finish.

Disclaimer: All art: pictures, drawings, music, lyrics, and videos are credited to its original creators. Characters and plot lines created are this blog's creation. Do not repost or copy work on any media platform.

Pink : Translation Green: Negative Press/Wrong Sources. Orange: Accurate Source, positive press Blue: Flashback

Song Inspiration: Leave a message (skit) x Mary J. Blidge Incapable x Keyshia Cole

Current Time: 6:15 a.m.

Stillness lay heavy on the neighborhood, the neighbors being miles away from each other in the gated community. Warmth flooded the street as rays of fiery light shot the world through, ending the night. A mess of limbs tangled beneath the ruffled-ripped silk sheets. The rapid buzzing of phones, vibrating against the bed.

"Jey.” A hand reaches out pushing at his back; feeling his naked skin between her fingers, wanting the buzzing to stop as it becomes persistent. The vibrations continued, waking them both from their deep slumber, reaching blindly for their phones at opposite ends of the bed. It was the weekend and they wanted nothing more than to be lost in each other again, uninterrupted this time.

“Put it on, do not disturb.” He tells her, immediately silencing his phone from the world, and tossing it on the bed. She looks at him with a frown. “It’s just us this weekend.” He pulls her closer to him, rough but warm hands rubbing her back. 

“Not our friends though. They know now.” She silences certain people on her phone, shifting to place her arms around his neck as he nuzzles her neck, pressing soft kisses to her collarbone. Humming in agreement, he pressed his tender wet lips up her neck.

Jey felt her toss the phone somewhere, probably next to his. Her body pressed closer to his with a soft sigh. The soft glow of the sun-kissed her deep brown hue. Her eyes closed letting him caress her body. 

Pulling back he calls her name. “Soraya.” The evident sleep left in his already raspy voice deepened as he looked at her. The soft hm’s that left her plump lips weren’t enough for him. His large right hand gives her ass a slap. A sharp inhale of her breath at the sudden stinging pain. 

“What.” She whines, melting into his hold as he massaged the area he hit, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek, watching her face with a deep chuckle. 

“Look at me, baby.” He coos, beard tickling her neck as he nips along the sensitive area. She stuck to him, unable to move from his assault on her flesh. His fingers knead into the flesh of her fat ass, pressing her down against his pelvis, The only barrier between them is the sheets. 

Soraya flutters her eyes open to look at him, a soft gasp at the way he was looking at her, his deep brown eyes showing nothing but love and passion, her body shivers in pleasure, hearing him chuckle.

”good girl.” He captures her mouth on his own; biting the flesh of her lip, grinding his hips up into her. Their tongues meet in a frenzied dance inside each other's mouths. The once thin sheet now pooled at their feet. The cold breeze of his fan raised goosebumps on their skin.

A soft oh left her lips at the intrusion of his swollen tip, dripping with pre-cum. Her legs instinctively went on his hip, her heel digging in his back; his girth pushing past her slick folds with a groan. 

“Fuck, baby.” He rubs his hands up her side, squeezing softly with every slow thrust of his hips, biting his lip at the feel of her warm walls around his dick. Her tiny moans in his ears, almost sure he heard her whisper his name several times.

”Jey..” She let out a string of needy pants, watching as she tilted her head back, body sensitive with every stroke he gave, curving slightly to tap at her sensitive spot. A soft squeak made him groan.

"Live with me,” He tells her, her head coming forward to look at him, his face soft as he slows his strokes, pulling out only till his tip remains, making her whine at the loss and teasing, as he repeated this. Their breaths blowing on each other, the sweetness of the mangoes they ate hours ago still lingering on their breath only adding to the feeling he was putting her through, completely taking over her pleasure. Soraya almost didn’t hear the question.

“M’want me to?” Her hands grabbed his that rested on her hips, letting him roll their bodies over, her back pressed into the plush bed. Jey’s fingers entwined with her own, pinning them by her head. He freed a hand to tap his leaking erection against her sensitive mound, smearing the juices all over the warm brown-colored tip.

"So I can get you like this every day..” He leans down with a brief kiss to her bruised lips. “Hell yeah.” Jey slowly rocks down, piercing his lip with a bite at her sucking him in. Her hips arching up into his torso. Her skin is warm against his own. She still doesn’t answer him, lost in the way he slowly slides inside her; feeling the visible veins along his hardened flesh, stretching her walls with a groan. 

Her mouth was slightly open, struggling to get free of the grip he had on her wrists; wanting nothing more than to scratch her nails in his back. He halts his movements, a bratty whine leaving her mouth. “Josh.” 

He groans at his name leaving her lips. He braces his hands by her head, her legs and arms instantly wrapping around him like a koala. His favorite position, it pushes him deeper with satisfied groans from them both. Once chest to chest, he rocks in her slowly, building the pleasure back up as he presses kisses to her chest, nipping at the round flesh of her breasts, sucking softly into her skin to leave his mark. 

Soraya’s hands felt good on his head; mostly resting on the nape of his neck, where the short patch of curls finally grew out to the length she liked, matching the beard that was freshly trimmed as it rubbed against her soft skin. Her nails scratched along his scalp, earning soft groans. 

“Kahaia” a gruff mention of her own middle name in the heat of pleasure; taking them back to the moment they first met at Trinity and Jimmy’s engagement party. Only he had ever called her by her native name. It sounded better coming from him. So hearing utter Kahania in the heat of the moment filled her with a hint of pride. His arms now wrap under and around her in a hug, pressing his weight on her. Jey’s head nudges into the space between her neck and shoulder, leaving open-mouth kisses along the blade. Their hips rocked in tandem as the world around them continued on. He only wanted to be around her today and this was the only way he was going to get it. “"gaoioi i le atamai ia te au." (Move in with me).

Soraya felt every thrust he was giving her, going teasingly slow to feel every inch of her walls, her face contorted in pleasure at each new sweet spot, mentally noting it for the next time they get like this. His lips kiss the space behind her ear, a snap of his hips making her gasp. "e te le'i mafaufau ea ia te a'u?" (moving in with me?) He asks her in a way where she can say yes or no, hoping she says yes. 

She couldn’t deny that she would love waking up to him every morning just like this, then tangled up in each other's arms afterward; Soraya felt like they were moving too fast. She was scared to put herself in a vulnerable position to get hurt again. Yet, the way he made her feel with every hug and every sweet kiss on her face, constantly telling her she looked good made her feel truly loved. She was scared about the world’s reaction to her relationship, but she didn’t care anymore. Any reservations she had were kissed away by his lips on hers, his hips working a steady rhythm.  

"Ioe tama lapoa.” (yes big papa) She doesn’t remember what happens after whispering the words against his lips. Just the imprint of a smile, the soft crow's wrinkles surrounding his eyes, falling deeper in love with her every minute, learning the ways to pleasure her mind and body. 

The way she easily meshes with his vibe, as if she belonged here with him. Joshua did believe they were moving too fast. Her soft pleased moans, and squeezing walls, begging for more of him, repeating the word yes between a steady string of moans. Her hands were on his neck, her blue acrylic tips scratching his beard in between the hurried kisses. If this was his last chance to be with her he was taking full advantage and unspoken agreement between them. If they crashed and burned along the way then they were both to blame. 

Joshua knew that would never happen. In too deep as they shared a passion-driven kiss; lips locking with a slow pump of his hips. His own stuttering release mixed with hers, dripping onto the sheets. A mix of their own sounds echoed through the room which was now masked in the scent of sex and sweat. He wasn't going to ask her again, he already knew her answer was yes, she just didn’t say it. He found her sudden shyness when in bed together cute, knowing only he could get her like this. He adjusts their position, resting her on his chest as he rests against the headboard, her tiny snores making him chuckle as he reaches for the remote to on the TV. Entertainment Weekly, with a new host, displaying a man’s name he was tired of hearing, only he was watching closely at the mention of Soraya’s name.

I’m Dina Taylors with Entertainment Weekly. In recent news, Damien “Dame” Davis, has been picked up on several RICO charges by the state of Georgia, New York, Florida, and California. What the Rico charges are, we will have more as the several states share any evidence found. The bulk of the evidence comes from Soraya Attui-Dudley and her team of attorneys.

The sudden movement of her body makes him look down. Soraya, using his own to adjust her position, head resting fully on his chest, arms tucking around him. The fluttering of her eyes puts a smile on his face. He feels the soft exhale of her sigh. His own hands rubbing up and down her back.

"Mornin’ sunshine.” 

She mumbles a soft good morning, turning her head to look at the TV. The mention of her name gained her attention with a frown.

Soraya over the past few years has been silent when it comes to the nature of her relationship with Damien. However, the recent police reports suggest she wasn’t a willing participant in all of his endeavors outside of music. As of now, Damien is being held in Rikers Penitentiary, awaiting bond before his approaching trial.

“It’s over, yeah?” He asks, frowning at the multiple images of her face bruised, lined with white powder beneath her nose, and smeared all over her nostrils as if someone forced her to inhale the substance. Only ever seeing the surface of his abuse on her. “I mean, his life is pretty much over.”

"I wish.” she sits up in his lap, stretching her arm out as he watches. He wasn’t sure how she still looked so beautiful in the morning. Her hair is wild from last night, framing her sleep-ridden face. “I’m sure they’re going to call me to testify, for him to maybe get what? Life with the possibility of parole.”

He frowns when she gets up, taking the sheets with her, as she walks into the bathroom. “Better behind bars, than walking free.”

Soraya doesn’t care, using the bathroom to freshen up for the day. She bites her lips at the multiple bruises he left on her neck, debating on whether she wanted to cover them up or not. 

Mercedez, the mother of Damien’s three-year-old daughter, has expressed her deep regrets and apologies towards Soraya. The apology comes in full force after the release of the police images from multiple stations, showing a beaten and battered Soraya. 

Funny how, you think you got the man, and he turns out to be an abuser. It was only a matter of time before we saw his true colors.

She found herself digging through his closet, the majority of her clothes still at her place, she needed something in case they were to go out, whatever she had here, going in the washer. His closet is nothing but t-shirts, and sweats. Jeans here and there, his shorts somewhere in his dressers. She spots the black Niu TAT shirts, the black cotton shirt calling her name, knowing he probably had a pair of light blue shorts in his dresser. 

Does anyone think there is any truth to these documents she’s putting out. These date back years before they broke up.  Gotta think, maybe she wants another come up. The dude is a famous artist. Soraya is in a league of her own. She’s up there with some of the greats. It just sucks she had the wrong guy on her side.

All the blogs were talking about this and she wanted no part in Dame and his upcoming trial. Soraya did her part, and that was it. If she can and will avoid the frenzy of the newfound history of Dame’s past, then she was a fly on the wall. The door to the bathroom opened, the steam pouring out and dissolving into the cold air. The towel wrapped loosely around his waist, the water dripping from his hair and face onto the well-defined chest of her lover. 

“Take a picture. It’ll last longer.” A knowing smirk on his face as he readied himself for the day. 

“Mhm, why when the real thing is in front of me.” She innocently looks up at him, a soft bite of her lip that always drives him crazy. The seductive bedroom eyes, made him wonder if he wanted to take her back to bed or not. 

“Keep playing and we’ll never leave the house.” Jey finally notices her attire. His clothes are slightly too big on her, still looking better on her than him.

“Mhm, is that a threat?” Her lips pursed at the way he looked at her, a half smile on his face as he slid on the same shirt as her, only a different color. 

“Nah.” He walks over to her, grabbing her hands to pull her up. “A promise.” He gives her a quick kiss on her lips. “Let’s go eat.”

We have received word that Damien Davis has posted bail. Our sources have spotted him leaving with what we perceive is his attorney and another mysterious woman. 

New sources have revealed Damien Davis as a critical part of an ongoing sex-trafficking ring, along with being at the scene of a homicide the NYPD has been investigating since last year.  Damien Davis is a dangerous and manipulative man, there’s no telling what he put Soraya through during their relationship— Welcome to 106 & Park, We’re your host AJ and Free. 

The channel was changed from multiple news stations to a culture-centric music station. Her favorite hosts introduced the top ten music videos. Their late breakfast, resting on the coffee table in front of them. The remnants of eggs too small to pick up scattered across their plates. She wasted no time cleaning their dishes and the kitchen to rejoin him on the couch, mostly his lap as it was her favorite spot. His own arms cradled her into his chest, the outside had patted her thigh softly, mindlessly rubbing the bare with his fingertips. His attention was on the flat screen, but his mind drifted off to nowhere. 

They sat like this a lot, just relishing in each other’s company. A comfortable silence as the room filled with nothing but their soft breathing syncing with each other. The quick kisses come soon, frantic touches, clothes soon discarding as they make time for another round, christening his couch for the first time. The world around a second thought as they got lost in the feeling of each other’s bodies once again. 

A pleased sigh leaves her lips, his body a weighted blanket over her own, his head resting on her chest. Her fingers scratch his scalp, as grumbled groans leave his lips at the sensation. 

“Are you sleeping?” She whispers. He shifts, lifting his head slightly to nod. Probably the best sleep he’s gotten in a while. She frowns, wanting to go get food, but loving the way he is turning into a big baby. His phone vibrated somewhere in the house, as it connected to his Bluetooth speakers. Jey doesn’t make a move to answer, letting it go straight to voicemail.

"If it's important they’ll leave a message.” He mumbles, arms briefly squeezing her, too comfortable to get up. 

The ringing continued making him sigh and get up, briefs he put on after the intimate moment, clinging to him, the blue shorts hanging low on him as he pulled them up.

”Must be important.” She jokes, rolling over to grab whichever shirt fell on the floor, to partially dress herself. 

“For sure.” He sighs, scrolling through the multiple text messages and notifications. Her own phone went off as she joined his side. The influx of incoming texts and calls overwhelmed her, with multiple people congratulating her on her latest album, and more people offering her support during the Dame crisis. The countless emails came in to collaborate on a song, asking her to write for them and produce the beat. “Gotta go back on the road soon.” He murmurs, finally putting his phone away. 

“Back to business.” A defeated sigh, head laying on her arm. Deciding right now she wouldn’t be doing collaborations with anyone, until after her next album and possible tour. 

“Moving in gotta wait huh?” He jokes, putting an arm around her. Her soft laughs, and her body turning inward into his side. 

“Mhm, nope. While you were in the shower, called some movers to pack.” Still rooted in their standing position, her fingers lightly traced over the intricate details on his arms. A laser focus on the detailed insect on the inside of his right bicep, the muscle flexing with every touch of her fingers.

“I want one.” She whispers.

“Want what, a tattoo or a tribal tattoo?” 

“Both.” She shrugs. “Been meanin’ to get one, I just could never decide what I wanted, or someone who could do it and it looks good.”

A knowing smile spreads across his face, picking up his phone. She watches as Jey sends someone a message. His hand slid down to pat her thigh. “Go change.”

”Mhm, what for?” 

“You’ll see, just change into something comfortable.”

A confused frown on her face, she jogs upstairs, pulling out the freshly dried clothes, seeing what she had that was comfortable enough for whatever he had planned. The white cropped shirt, and green cargo shorts would have to do, rushing to get dressed and meet him downstairs.

Jey lets out an appreciative whistle, loving it when she wears shorts, the fabric barely stopping at her thighs, the perfect canvas for a slew of tattoos. He watched as she slipped on her shoes. “Where are you taking me?”

“You trust me?”

A slight tilt of her head at him while grabbing her phone made him chuckle. “Blindly.” If anything her past relationship should make her wary of him taking her anywhere, yet, the warm and inviting aura of Jey washed away all doubts.

“You’ll like it. I promise.”

A promise that was well-kept as he pulled his truck into the parking space in front of one of his favorite places. The bold white lettering of the shop name gained her attention. SACRED TATAU. 

“Tattoo shop?” She questions, a little confused, but partially excited as it seemed to be a shop that focused on culture art. He gets out, coming around to open her door. 

“The best in Florida.” He grabs her hand in his. Their fingers already know to lock with each other. The shop provided a homey feel as they entered. The decor is a warm dark color that instantly puts her mind at ease as he talks to a woman behind the front desk.

”Josh!.” 

Soraya watches as another set of girls walk in, bright smiles on their faces as they greet him, his hold still on her hand, keeping her close. 

“Sienna, Savannah.”

”Been a minute Uce.” Sienna tells him, finally looking next to him. The shock and excitement on her face let them know she knew who Soraya was.

“You’re Soraya!” Sienna tells her, completely starstruck at one of her favorite artists standing before her.

”In the flesh.” She jokes. 

Sienna and Savannah were big fans of Soraya, but they made her feel like any other person coming through their dad's shop. They pulled her away from Jey, wanting to get to know her more while listing off the many songs they loved. He watches with a smile as the man of the hour graces them with their presence after getting his things set up. 

“Uce.” The slapping of hands gains the girl's attention. Soraya watched as the pair talked, slowly getting up to join his side. The slight glance of recognition as he wrapped an arm around her back. 

“Here for another one? You’re running out of space.” He jokes, earning a deep chuckle from Jey. 

“Nah, for my girl this time.” He guides her up. “Mike, this is Soraya.” He notices the sudden shyness in her.  “ Soraya. This is my tattoo artist Mike and the guy who will be doing your first tattoo.” 

“Hey.” They shake hands, the warm grip, comforting her anxieties. His crow's eyes showed as he smiled. “How did you end up with this one, yeah?” He points at Jey with a smile, making her giggle at the way Jey kisses his teeth, with a smile.

“He just showed up on my doorstep.” She shrugs with a smile, looking at him as he shakes his head with a flushed smile. Grabbing his hand again, she comfortably stands at his side. “I like your shop.”

“Fa'afetai (thank you), Jey says you want to get a tattoo?” The bigger man is talking to her now, Jey disappearing after spotting a jar of cookies in the back, an older woman filling them with more of what looked like a batch fresh from the oven.

“I do.” She chews her lip. “I don't know what I want.” She wasn’t sure and didn’t want to regret it someday. “I want a butterfly. It’s my favorite insect.” She then thought of the one on Jey’s bicep. “Give me a second.”

Mike watches as she skips up to Jey, gaining her attention in an instant. The soft attentive gaze he gave her, made him smile. For as long as he knew Josh, he never talked about bringing home a woman for his family to meet. He always said he would just pop up one day and he was married. 

“I want the butterfly that's on your bicep.” She tells Jey. One of her favorites he had inked on his body. Always finding herself in his arms, outlining the details of the large insect resting in the middle of his bicep. The most recent one he had Mike touch up and he couldn't lie and say it wasn’t his favorite either. The thought of having matching tattoos with Soraya was a distant idea for further in their relationship.

“Just the butterfly?” He asks, making sure this is really what she wants. 

“I don’t know what else I want, I really like the one you have.”  

Jey nods, looking behind her at Mike who was getting his cart set up. The TV being turned on was a bit of a distraction. “How about we put the butterfly on there, and let Mike do his thing with the rest?”  

The first prick of the tattoo gun on her thigh was scary, but with the constant reassurance from Jey; the pain subsided. She was finding herself falling asleep on the table.

“Not you going to sleep and you were scared.” Jey chuckles, biting into another cookie, glancing at Mike doing the tattoo to her face. Soraya's head rested on her crossed arms, letting the buzzing sounds and constant vibrations on her skin lull her to sleep.

“Shut up,” she mutters, glancing at the cookie in his hand, then back at him with a soft hum. He lets her take a bite, looking down at his phone briefly. 

Welcome to THE WHOLE STORY...I’m Anderson Cooper. The United States will be moving forward with its case against Damien Davis. There is substantial evidence that will be used against him. A good portion of that evidence links back to Soraya Aititui-Dudley. The pair had their own run-in with the law, per the multiple domestic violence reports in several counties across the county of Georgia. It’s too soon to say whether or not Soraya will be called to testify, as this is only the beginning stages of the tria--

The sudden change in channels gains her attention. She watches him flip through the many programs as comfortable silence washes over the shop. 

“How did you two meet?” Mike asks, the gun in his hand carefully pressing the ink into her skin in an intricate pattern as he breaks the silence

The crowded home of Jimmy and Trinity was filled with nothing but their immediate families. For Trinity that included her Mom, uncle, and cousins. The large three-bedroom home houses a multitude of food and drink options, and a family DJ playing in the backyard. They had recently announced the pair were engaged, eliciting several whoops and hollers in congratulations. Soraya had found herself in a circle of Trinity’s work friends: Bianca, and Lina. They had made eye contact the entire night until he made the first move, stopping her as she came out of the house to refill her drink. “Josh.” He greets a small smile on his face, her soft brown eyes looking at him in interest. A soft hum leaves her lips looking him over. “Soraya.” They shake hands, neither one wanting to let go first at the warm grip heating her entire body, using this chance to pull her off to the side as they struck up a conversation oblivious to another person watching them.

“That was only the first time,” Jey grumbles remembering that same night, he learned of her relationship with Dame. The pair have been together since high school. 

“So, you've known each other for a while?” 

It was just never the right time for them to get together. Only ever seeing each other at events planned by Jimmy and Trinity. Their interactions are limited to social environments. Her previous relationship was at the forefront of her mind. “Yeah. We saw each other here and there. I was constantly on the road at the time, was away from everyone.” Soraya sighs, not wanting to relive the past anymore. 

“Imma go get sum food, you hungry?” He directs to Soraya but also extends the offer to Mike and the girls. With everyone in agreement, Jey makes sure Soraya is good before heading out to get something for everyone.

“So what does Soraya the artist have planned next?” Mike asks, cleaning off excess ink with a paper towel.

“Another album and maybe a two-leg tour hopefully.” She’s scrolling through her phone at several emails about dates and venues. Unable to look at Mike as she was lying on her stomach so he could do the back of her leg. 

“Exciting, I know Josh has a few international trips coming up, gonna travel with him?” Being the current World Heavy-Weight Champion he’s going to be defending his titles more and with his current feud with Finn Balor, he is leaving soon.

“No, but you just gave me an idea too.” She laughs. Soraya hadn’t thought about traveling with him, but seeing as their dates overlap, why not. She could see him in his element and him in hers.

“Glad to be of help.” He chuckles, incorporating the flower in her necklace into the design on her thigh, the details popping against her dark skin. He noticed the necklace the moment he saw her, a tradition he did with his own wife; getting the notion that she was Samoan as well, letting the culture design translate into her personal story.

“I don’t mean to pry, but why did you go ghost after exposing your ex? '' Sienna asked, earning a few slaps and shut-ups from her mom and sister. Soraya wasn’t offended or phased by the questions, knowing it was a well-warranted question. 

“It's fine…It was mostly for my safety and sanity.” Which was the truth. Dame was known for being able to find her anytime she left him, especially with them being contractually bonded at the time. Finding the loophole in those contracts saved her life and career. “In the years that I’ve known him, I knew he wasn’t going to let me go easy.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” His mom tells her. “I had a friend in an abusive relationship. She sadly didn’t make it out alive, so it's happy to hear that some women do and live to bring awareness.” A comforting smile on her face towards Soraya. 

“Josh wouldn’t be as happy as he is either,”  Mike adds, realizing that Soraya was the woman he always talked about, telling him about the girl he wanted but couldn’t have because of a dangerous situation. “You’re all he ever talks about.”  He’s slowly finishing up the tattoo. 

“Yeah. Uce is in love” Savannah laughs, getting up to grab some cream off the shelf for her Dad.

Soraya bites her lip nervously as the family cooed over Josh and his love for her. The man is head over heels for her. The instant notification she got on her phone pulls her attention away.

Current Time: 7:30 p.m.

Mike wiped the last of the cream off her thigh with a paper towel. A good five hours after Josh retired with food from Zaxby’s giving both her and Mike a break. Jey helps her stand up guiding her to the mirror.

“That shit clean baby.”  Both of them admired the garter-style tattoo, the matching butterfly sitting on top of her thigh, surrounding small detailed flowers, noticing they matched the style of her necklace, the intricate detailing of Samoan culture markings making up the band of the tattoo, incorporating her mother’s culture into the design. She instantly fell in love, knowing she would be coming back to get the flowers colored in.

“It’s perfect.” She turns and gives Mike a hug, his embrace feeling like she was hugging a giant teddy bear, returning the hug, he smiles.

“Thank you for trusting me with your first.” He was honored to give her something she loved. “Hopefully you’ll be back for more.” 

She laughs. "Oh for sure." She watched Jey gather their things after hugging his wife and kids goodbye.

The two of them head out together. Her thigh was still sore, hissing at the sudden pressure from sitting in the passenger seat.

“Hurts huh baby?” He looks at her. She nods with a pout, adjusting her sitting position to not put pressure on the freshly-inked thigh.

“Yeah.” She responds, digging into his middle console for the blunt he had rolled earlier, knowing the little thing would ease some of the pain. The two ride in silence for a minute, the car filling with the strong scent of weed, getting them both high.

“What if we travel together for your tour.” Jey breaks the silence, stopping at the red light to look at his now relaxed girlfriend. “Schedule your concerts around my shows and events?” 

“Mhm, I travel in style.” She reminds him. Jey never really cared to pay extra for first class or personal drivers; choosing to carpool with his peers, Soraya on the other hand relished in the added luxury. She was always on some private Jet, or tour bus, even going as far as to get a driver, wanting to limit a lot of crazy fan interactions, especially with the trial going on. For her, he would do anything.

“Then we travel in style, as long as you’re next to me.” The car moves again, a giddy smile on her face at the thought of traveling with him. Her fingers moved rapidly across her phone screen, sending her manager Naraya the go-ahead to plan the tour dates around his schedule. 

“Oh, you planned this already?” Jey peeks over at her while laughing. 

“Of course, I was going to do it regardless.” Her hand comes up to rest behind his neck, thumb rubbing into the skin behind his ear. “Wanna see you live'” she murmurs to herself, but the cocky smile on his face signals that he heard her. He decides not to tease her as he drives them home. 

Why would she stay in such an abusive relationship? See me he would look worse than me You never know what you’re going to do in a situation like that. Do you think they’ll call her to testify against him? She’s weak. Supposed to be this big bad girl and she let a nigga smaller than her pimp and drug her out.  I doubt she testifies, why should she if they have all the evidence they need.   He’s a scapegoat for whoever he’s affiliated with. They’re feeding him in the woods. She’ll probably run away like last time. She’s nothing without him.

The incoming notifications of the blogs talking about her killed her, frustrating not only her but Jey as well, as some particular people he was no longer friends with sent him the blogs, stating she would kill his career as well. No matter how much she tried to shut down the rumors, it always found its way into her life.  The two of them scowl at their phones, calling her relationship with Dame a publicity stunt for her. Twisting her words back on her, stating Dame didn’t deserve it and that he loved her even though he cheated on her and had a child with her. Something the public doesn’t know; thinking the child was born after she went ghost. 

She wanted to respond but they would only twist her words once again, It seemed the only way she knew how was through music. A light goes off in her eyes, a small smirk on her face as she looks at Jey who is getting ready to remove his shoes.

“What?” He noticed the mischievous look on her face, confused at what she was planning in that head of hers.

“I can’t believe you dragged us into this shit.” Bianca sighs, carrying a black garment bag in her hands. “Especially in this dirty-ass abandoned warehouse.” 

“Oh, hush.” Trinity hits her, carrying her own bag of hair materials, behind them the twins and Montez carrying video equipment. “We got you girl.”

Soraya smiles, sipping on a Red Bull to keep her awake. “Thanks guys, this was just a spur-of-the-moment idea.” 

“This doesn’t have anything to do with the blogs talking about you again is it?” Bianca asks, setting down the bag of clothes on a nearby table. “Or that Dame is going to trial?” She hated being called out by the girls, they were always spot-on about what she thought. A defeated sigh leaves her side.

“This is the last time.” She was certain this would end what they thought about her and focused solely on Dame and how horrible he was. She tried to stay quiet about everything, but it seemed everyone was forcing her hand, demanding she speak about it. Trinity and Bianca groan. 

“Girl, no matter what you do, they will still talk.” Bianca tells her honestly confused about why she was entertaining the blogs. Trinity on the other hand understood why she was. Why would she let them continue to drag her name? 

“At the end of the day B, We gotta support her.” Trinity would rather end this conversation and support her cousin in whatever she thought was best.

“Forever gon support my girl.” B raises her hands in surrender. A couple of more people came in with their things as well, confusing not only the girls but the guys as well. “Who are they?’

“The host of  The Bullet Club.” Soraya grins, a set of men walking towards him with a wide smile on their faces. Jey watches confused as the two dudes pull her into a hug. He slowly walks his way up to them.

“Hey, squirt.” The taller, older man hugged her tightly, swaying them side to side. 

“Hi, Uncle Cliff.” She grins returning the embrace, an oh expression on everyone’s face. “Thanks for letting me do this.”

“Anything for my niece.” He pulls back; looking behind him at his crew setting up the multiple green screens and camera equipment. “Bout time you did a legit diss, that shameful shit was whack.”

She makes a face, spotting Jey at her side. “Not too much on Shameful, she got me through it all.”

Cliff raises his hands in defeat. “Do you baby girl. You know you say the word, "I got my guys on him.” She rolls her eyes, Her uncle stays wanting to put a cap on somebody, especially if someone messing with his family. She finally introduces them to her friends, mainly Jey. Who was protectively at her side. Cliff sizing him up inserts himself. “Joshua right?”

He nods, returning the same attitude. “Yeah.”

They stare each other down as Trinity pulls Soraya away from them to possibly do damage control. Bianca made her sit down as Trinity got her things out to do her hair. Soraya has to watch from a distance at her boyfriend and uncle having a stare-down, before they break into a union of laughter dapping each other up. She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. 

“Girl, you didn’t tell me the Method Man was your uncle.” Bianca scolds almost, burning her head. “My bad.”

“That’s why and he's not by blood.” She’s touching up her makeup, adding some more details to her lips, smacking them together to evenly smear the gloss across them. “Just super close with my dad.”

“Shit, he's fine as hell.” Trinity sighs, putting an outfit together for her. “If I wasn’t married.” 

“If you weren't what?”

Their conversations come to a halt as their boyfriends join them. Jey going to sit in front of Soraya, watching her doll herself up. “Nothing.” Trinity deflects, hugging Jimmy’s waist. 

“Mhmm, Raya, you almost ready?” He asks, looking down at her. Bianca had finally finished her hair, letting her get up and grab the clothes Trinity picked for her. 

“Yeah.” She walks up to Jey, leaning down to kiss his cheek. “Going to get dressed.” He follows behind her, only to make sure no one walks in on her while she changes. She had wanted to talk to him as well; unsure of how he was feeling in all of this. 

“You look good.” He tells her, holding the discarded pieces of fabric, loving the way the new outfit shaped her frame. A shy grin on her face as she walked up to his leaning body perched on the metal frame. Her arms wrap around his neck. 

“Thank you.” She stands on her tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his lips. “You okay?” He shrugs, looking down at her. A slow lick of his lips as he trailed his eyes from her face to her body pressed against his. “How do you feel about me doing this?”

“I’m here to support you.” He gives her another chaste kiss, biting her lip in the process. “Let this be the last time you talk about him though.” A tiny whimper leaves her mouth at the loss of his on her own. He was cool with Soraya doing what she had to. However, if this doesn’t kill the shit then she was fighting a lost cause.

“It’s overkill at this point Soraya. I’m not staying in this relationship if you’re going to continue entertaining the nigga. Make it count.”  

The empty warehouse was now set up with multiple green screens and cameras, a single microphone in the center as she stood behind it, Her uncle and his host doing their intro from or their radio station introducing Soraya as the beat started. The buzzing notifications in her friend's phone came out as this was being aired live across all social media platforms. 

The first line in her diss surprised everyone. “You might wanna watch your mouth, or watch your spouse. I’m that chick, I’ll make you want to slit your wrist. your nigga tryna kiss my pics.”

It wasn’t often Soraya sat down and truly dissed somebody, especially in freestyle while being recorded live for everyone to see at midnight. However, it was brought out of her and there was no turning back. As she continued, Jey wondered if this was her way of finally releasing any negative energy she was harboring over the situation. He had also wondered if she would do the same to him if they didn't work out. Regardless if it was mutual or night. He hated thinking that way. 

“Let’s clear shit out, lately it's been empty as the head that wears the crown. Niggas who want a bitch whose only talent is to mentally be challenged....” The short pause between bars; a mix of approval ooo's in the background. “chemically imbalanced.”

Yet, just seeing her in her element, the way all stress left her body in her movements, he still had to wonder how their story would end. Trinity notices the distant look in her brother-in-law's eyes, the wheels turning in his head. She instantly knew what he was thinking. “She’s not going to do you like she’s doing him.” She tells him.

“Yeah?” He looked at Trinity and then back at his girl. “How do you know?”

“She wouldn’t have gotten matching tattoos with you.” Only Trinity and Jimmy had noticed the butterfly on her leg that was eerily similar to the one Jey had on his arm. It was hard not to miss the garter-style tattoo on her leg. Trinity also saw it as a sign of her being in love. Growing up Soraya had told everyone her first tattoo would be a matching one with her future boyfriend to signify her being truly in love. She kept that to herself for Jey to find out.  

He takes the newfound information into account as he watches her, finally listening to the lyrics that she is spewing out.

“Nigga listen, I can’t really explain it, but, shit I’m famous so people gon draw the picture however they wanna paint it, ain’t it.” Her uncle is in the background running around with Montez, their actions warranted at the bar, sneaking a jab at the blogs telling false stories about her.

By this time, over a million people were turned in, constantly sharing their livestreams. What the people in the warehouse aren’t seeing on the green screen are multiple pictures of her and Dame, and how she started his career, providing proof that he was a narcissistic wanna-be rapper. Debunking all the claims that he put her on. 

“I’m the reason why you great nigga, I’m the one who got you eating medium and steak nigga.” If she had a real audience they would be dead as she devoured the switch-up of the beats, in the background her phone was going off with messages and notifications of people trying to save face. 

“I’m not the type to hit feet when I’m targeting chest, when I met a world peace put your art to the test and now went overheads.” She had been going on for two minutes now with no plans of stopping anytime soon. “This is something I have oversaid now it's just an overkill better yet it's over dead, over heads.”

Cliff had started to slow down the beat, signaling for her to stop at some point, but she still went in on the mic, rapping to no beat as she stared straight into the camera. “Zero effort, you have zero leverage. Text me on my phone and I’ll see at zero message.”

Soraya had released so much trauma into that freestyle, no longer caring about how she was going to be viewed, using this as a reference anytime someone brought up her past. Her focus now is on the man who loved her and showed it daily. She finally looked in his direction as they wrapped up. A silent conversation was being held between them from how they held each other’s gaze. Her feet moved toward his direction. The closer she gets, his arms open letting her wrap her arms around him, his own hugging her shoulders, with a gentle kiss to her temple.

“All good?”

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[pursuitseternal]

“Arising” to the climax of “Our Blood is Thicker”

Astarion x Cordehlia (Named Tav) | E | 3.6 K

Love to @marimosalad , my illustrator and co creator

Summary: Cazador’s dungeons, where his love is reduced to a hostage to ensure his willingness in the Rite of Profane Ascension. The Pale Elf and the Bone Picker are faced with an even more desperate choice in that glow of Infernal magic.

CW: violence, angst, Pale Elf Quest spoilers, heartache, impossible choices, Catharsis, and near death experiences.

Previous Ch | ao3 link | Masterlist

Chapter 18: Arising…

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Dagger bit flesh, one last werewolf felled in the Ballroom. Blood everywhere, it covered them all, but Astarion grinned in wicked delight as he took in their progress. The Palace would be gutted, and she would be saved. Cazador would be dead, and with any luck, he might just ensure immortality and power and prestige for them both. Forever.

He looked into the faces of his friends, all just as bloodied and breathless as he was.

And what was more, they all grinned back, panting and bent over with exhaustion some, well, Gale unsurprisingly. But they all were with him.

It took a matter of moments for them to find the way to the dungeons, his stomach sinking, his undead heart somehow racing, almost tangible again in his chest as they lowered to the crypt.

Foul air hit their faces, rot and putrefaction and mold, a place he didn’t even know existed. And yet, somehow, the perfect place for Cazador to wallow and bait his trap. The sewer rat that he was.

Cells lined the walls once they reached the bottom, hundreds of glowing red eyes staring at him, clamors of parched voices, some that had haunted him for centuries.

“Are all these…?” Shadowheart’s question died on her lips as the answer became too clear.

“Targets… Victims…. More… spawn….” Astarion kept his eyes fixed ahead. “They should have been dead, drained and dismembered,” he hissed, betrayal upon betrayal festering in his stomach now. “He must need them, must be part of his plan….”

“There must be hundreds… thousands…” Halsin’s voice almost shook at the atrocity.

But atrocity had been a daily part of his life for all his years enslaved. Astarion could only push forward, unable to look or listen at the faces he still saw in his nightmares, those torturous visions that plagued him any time he wasn’t dreaming about…

“Cordehlia,” he froze outside a cell, empty and blood spattered. Crouching, he touched his fingers in the red pool of sticky blood and licked it. “Her scent is here,” he whispered, pressed and taught as every instinct to kill began to take hold. “She was here, but it’s not her blood,” he stood smirking. “Ghast and werewolf, at least she put them through the hells, by the look of it. Unarmed too.” He absentmindedly tapped the dagger at his hip.

“Of course she did,” Karalch gave a small, slight laugh, unusual for her. “That’s our girl.”

“But it doesn’t tell why so many other victims, why so many monsters,” Wyll’s voice sliced through as sharp as his blade.

“Perhaps I can be of assistance….”

The scent of brimstone and sulfur, the sting of Infernal magic in the air, that velvet baritone voice, only one Cambion would offer help one last time… just a small, black and molten form hovered at their eye level. Slowly, those dark sunken eyes, that hard-lined face materialized before them all. Half-formed from the neck up, that familiar face smirked at them.

Raphael.

“What the fuck do you want?” Astarion rounded, fangs bared and fists clenched. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m a bit too busy to thank you for gracing us with your presence, devil,” Astarion snapped, sarcasm dripping from his words as he gave a subtle bow of his head. “If you slow me down now, you’ll find yourself short not two… but three horns someday….”

He didn’t mean horns alone. That made Karlach snicker.

But Astarion couldn’t enjoy the mirth, not when he was so very close now. That hurried bite in his words, he met Raphael’s black stare with disgust. “I don’t know why you think we might need assistance, what with facing down my old master with his army of an untold, unknown number of spawn, oh and he has the love of my life somewhere here….” He sneered, feral and fangs flashing. I think we have it under control, Raphael, so you can burst into mist and let me keep… going.” Spit flying, he snarled by the end.

“The spawn are not an army, my toothsome friend, they are his offering to Mephistopheles, the seven-thousand souls required for Cazador’s Ascension, in addition to your siblings’ and yours of course.”

The information smacked him in the chest. And every one of his companions seemed to stop breathing. “Seven-thousand souls…” Gale barely whispered in horrified reverence. Astarion rolled his eyes, of course the Wizard couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“But there is more you should know, my friends. Cazador has sampled some, a mere sliver, of the power the Vampire Ascendant will possess once the Rite is completed. That’s how he faced the thin light of dawn, how his spawn could appear in your rooms, how he could subdue that menacing and beautiful future bride of yours, Astarion.”

“I’d prefer if you quit spying on us, strange devil,” Astarion’s nostrils flared. “But since you’ve seen so much, any last warnings or advice for once?”

The black, molten form of Raphael suddenly looked very serious. “Take care of his bite,” he warned with deadly tone. “One fang through the skin, and the necrotic magic of the Ascendant will take hold, death will be slow but inevitable, allowing for the Vampire Lord enough time to decide, to torture or to turn his victim…. But there will be no amount of magic that can prevent that fate.”

Every breath held tight, even Astarion. Dread formed over his slow-beating heart, arms aching to hold her one more time. Heavy silence fell, once again broken. “By Silvanus,” Halisin sighed.

“Just remember, it wasn’t Silvanus who warned you, Astarion, it was me…” Raphael’s rippling voice chuckled into nothing as the apparition faded as well.

“For fucks sake…” Karlach bemoaned their situation as she loaded arrows into her crossbow. “Nobody is getting bitten today, dammit.”

“No,” Astarion rolled his shoulders and flashed them a smile… the deadliest they had ever seen, more fangs than mirth, more darkness in his eyes than crimson as he glanced one more time where his love had been held. “But someone is going to be turned inside out for what they have done to me and my love.” He unsheathed his shortsword and her glittering dagger with a hiss of metal. “I can promise you that.”

Air stung with magic, stank with rot. He could feel the scars on his back stinging, glimpsing the way his six siblings hung suspended by magic, their own scars aglow with infernal power.

But that wasn’t what his eyes searched for. The second he spied her at the bottom of the stairs, her skin pale and fiery hair tangled, he couldn’t stop. Astarion flew headlong into the danger, the second her silver eyes locked into his, a smile of love and relief and bloodlust crossed her own face, he only hastened all the more.

Cazador held her firm, her body clutched against his chest, arms bound before her with simple rope. “The prodigal son returns,” his Master called, even as Astarion panted and rushed with blade and dagger drawn. “You're so predictable, boy, so easy to break and crack into pieces.”

A roar in his throat, her bright dagger raised over his head, he was ready to strike. Until Cazador waved that massive staff, a wall of hot magic, singeing and red, slammed into him. He was so close, barely an arm’s reach from her… from him. But glowing red sigils burned around his wrists, his breath catching as it scorched in his throat. “I’m going to fucking kill you!”

“Only if you don’t let me do it first,” Cordehlia hissed and thrashed, elbowing the vampire in his chest. To no effect.

“It’s going to be quite hard to do that, now that my will has wrapped itself around you again, boy.”

The circlets of red grew brighter, Astarion grunting as he bit his teeth firmly shut. He wouldn’t give Cazador the satisfaction of another scream or grunt in pain. “Fuck you,” he ground out against the agony rushing through his body. “You have me, let her go, you bastard.”

“I’ll let her go, once she witnesses you fulfilling your true destiny, thankless child.” Cazador cackled, waving that fearsome staff of his to intensify the hissing sounds of flesh burning, increasing the glow of those shackles on her love’s wrists. “You were made to be consumed.”

“Astarion!” Cordehlia cried, wrestling against the iron hold around her frame. “No, you were made to destroy, my love. You were made in the darkness under pressure like adamantine, just like me. You were made to avenge yourself against him….”

“Shut up, you whore,” Cazador gripped his hand around her mouth, but she bit through his pale, flaky skin, only to yell louder once that vampire squealed in pain.

“He killed your parents, he beat me from your memory, used you, defiled you, and yet we found each other again. You will fight, my love, fight and win, Astar—“

That cold, steely grip clutched around her throat, and Cordehlia sputtered for air beneath it.

Astairon’s body writhed, twisting and strengthening as he grit his teeth and closed his eyes. Every iota of his love for her boiled to the surface, every bit of his rage burst from inside him, his need to be free, to be with her exploded from within. Hissing, shattering, the binding magic broke from his wrists. The sigils of his infernal scars decimated in an instant, and Astarion stretched his arms and bared his fangs. The only thing brighter than his teeth was that dagger still held firmly in his fingers.

Freed.

“Impossible…” Cazador snarled, his fingers releasing from her throat enough for Cordehlia to gasp in some air. “Even now, you resist? Foolish, stupid boy and his foolish, stupid whore.” Long fingers gripped into her hair and pulled her head sharply to the side, her neck bones almost cracking at the force. “You should have known your place, child.”

Astarion’s eyes seemed to watch it all happen so slowly… the way her hands opened, her eyes locked on her dagger in his grip… the narrowing of her gaze, ordering him to toss it wordlessly….

It happened so quickly, so slowly at once. That bright dagger sailed through the air, unwavering from his dexterous grip until it landed square in her outstretched hand. A smile crossed his face as she held it firm and fast, turning it to sink it into the soft belly behind her. A satisfied slick noise filed the dungeon as it sank home.

But her face flashed from triumph to agony. From bloodlust to torment. Astarion’s eyes flew from her perfect lips, her shining eyes to the set of fangs that now buried in her neck.

Watching in horror as Cazador sank his deadly fangs in her flesh.

Instantly, he released that bite, dagger buried in his gut through his ostentatious jerkin. The vampire stumbled back, that nefarious staff of his falling to the ground. But as their companions descended on his old master with light spells and damaging blows, Astarion could only move slowly, as if trapped in quicksand, reaching to catch her.

Her body was shaking, necrotic streaks already darkening the shallow bite on her neck. Perfect pale skin stained dark, her beautiful face gathering beads of sweat as the poison already crept through her veins. Astarion could only cradle her, warm tears finally dripping down his cheek, lips unable to say much of anything but the music of her name over and over again as he held her against his chest.

Throat bobbing, she swallowed through the agony, “I got him, didn’t I?”

“Yes, my love,” a feeble smile and tear streaked voice replying as he stroked her hair. All he could hear was the slowing beat of her heart, the din of battle beyond them so distant, so… unimportant compared to finally holding her once more.

Maybe only one more time.

Halsin crowded over them, “Bring him here,” he ordered to the rest of their party. Scuffling and dragging, slung between Karlach and Wyll, Cazador hung limp, but still alive. Or undead. Halsin pawed at Astarion’s shoulder, something warm and assuring and irritating about it all at once. “It’s for you to decide.”

Astarion looked up, eyes burning with hate as he locked his gaze on his old master. But he couldn’t bring himself to let her go, not with the way her arms clung around his chest, the way her heart seemed to slow beneath his own ribs. “Do something, Cleric,” he snarled, gesturing with his head at how his love began to visibly shiver.

“Astarion…” Shadowheart tried to cajole, but he would not take that patronizing tone.

“Halsin, Gale,” he snapped their names. “What good is all that magic and faith if you can’t heal her.”

“The devil said it wasn’t curable, but I could try to slow the poison,” Halsin finally sighed. “But there is only one solution to this…”

“My death,” Cordehlia shuddered, teeth chattering as her flesh began to grow impossibly cold. “I can… feel it. Have dreaded this for so long…”

“Or your undeath….” He whispered, just to himself. Astarion glanced up, taking in the carnage and misery and atrocity around them. Blood-slicked stone, throbbing infernal magic still holding his siblings bound by their scars. That one missing space meant for his death, waiting to be filled to complete the Rite…. “Do what you can to buy us time, Druid,” he ordered, lifting her shaking body towards the Elf, to place in his arms, carefully like the tender babe she was to him. “I have matters to attend to.”

“Astarion,” Cordehlia moaned as she was moved. “What are you d-doing?”

“What I promised you,” he knelt as Halsin rested her against him on the ground, cradling her in his large, warm arms. “I’m going to save you, to protect you, to make you my Bride.”

“Seven… th-thousand…” she managed to say before a wrack of pain shot through her body and made her teeth snap tight.

Her love’s palm cradled her cheek, his breath cold on her lips as he kissed her so, so softly. “Seven-thousand souls is a small price to pay to save your one, beautiful one,” he murmured.

“A-starion…” she managed to hiss through her torment.

“Yes, my darling?” he replied, lips still brushing hers even as they, too, grew cold.

“Use… my dagger,” she swallowed.

Astarion smiled, a kiss on her forehead, cold and wet with her body’s agony. “Anything for you, my treasure.”

Standing, he crossed to that monster, his former tormentor, and threw Cazador’s tunic up over his head. Raising at last, he found Gale’s hand so close, that bloodied, bright dagger in his offering palm. “Use the tadpole,” the Wizard nodded. “See your own scars, and it should suffice to appease the Infernal contract.” He winced as he heard his own words. “Do it for Cordehlia.”

Never before had he disrobed faster, armor and shirt lying at his feet as he took that warm blade in his hand. Astarion could say nothing, had to ignore the way he could just see from the corner of his eyes at how the Druid tried every kind of magic to draw the poison out. Shaking his head, he kept that focus locked on the sight of his own back, seeing his scars through Gale’s eyes. But all the while, he kept his pointed ear trained on Cordhelia’s heart, how it sometimes raced and sometimes slowed. And it only spurred his own markings to be that much sharper and more precise in that monster’s flesh. A matter of moments, and he finally pronounced his work completed.

He picked up that horrific staff, ignoring the way it vibrated in his hand, overwhelmed by its rush of magic as it coursed up his arm and down his spine. Power like nothing he could have ever imagine flooded his body, instantly his tongue danced over the words of the Profane Rite, put on his lips by the magic in the air. He could have watched with twisted pleasure as Cazador’s nearly-broken body flew to be suspended in his own place. He could have savored the way magic raced up and down every nerve as the spell tripped off his tongue, as the staff seemed to move his body of its own.

No, all he could watch was Cordehlia’s silver eyes fluttering, fighting to stay open to watch him ascending. All he could savor was the way his heart filled with the promise of a power so overwhelming, he could finally do something worthy of her. Finally able to save her. Feeling it finally begin to beat for her again.

The world around him seemed to still, to sharpen and explode all at once. Dropping that staff to the ground, he rushed to her once more. Her hand trembled in his grasp, skin waxy and cold. Halsin’s big green eyes looked back at him, grief stricken and saying more than words could. He passed her feeble body into Astarion’s outstretched arms as he crouched on the dirty floor beside them. Her head lolled against his shoulder, silver eyes half shut, forced open to looking into his handsome face until the end.

“You’ll have to fight poison with poison,” the Druid smiled weakly, trying to reassure the Ascendant being before him that radiated magic, Astarion’s skin paler than death and eyes glowing like demonic flame.

Astarion nodded, he didn’t want to do this here. Not in a dungeon, not in his old home of such torment, and certainly not in front of all the others. But there was no choice now, and the price paid was too great to fail now. “Cordehlia,” he whispered in her ear, “thank you for trusting me, I just need you to trust me a little further.”

She managed a nod with her eyes still barely opened.

Blood filled his mouth, and fangs sank into the holes Cazador had made. His mouth sucked the tainted blood from her veins, almost souring his stomach as he drank until the taste of that monster’s magic was gone from her body.

Until there was only the taste of her on his tongue again.

And yet, even as she showed all the signs of being bloodless, her heart beat steadied with his magic now in her veins. It would be enough for now, enough to start her own rite, enough to keep her from true death for a while. He stood, feeling waves of power rippling from his muscles in new and strange ways. Suddenly far too aware of the way his heart thumped in his chest again—rapid and alarmed and living. Too ironic, too sad to be truly appreciated as her own pulse continued to slow. “We have to get her back to the Elfsong,” he pronounced, blood dripping down his chin, standing to carry her tenderly in his arms. “I will need to complete my work in privacy.”

Halsin cocked a brow. “Very well,” he nodded, leading them all back through the halls until they could reach the brush of daylight once more, followed by a simple teleportation back to their suite of rooms.

Not a second was wasted. Not now that he was so close. Ascended. Freed. More power at the tips of fingers than any of his kind had ever possessed. And yet his happiness laid unmoving against his chest, nearly lifeless against his now-beating heart.

Astarion kicked open the door to a set of rooms apart, setting her on the dark, postered bed. Quickly, he bit her wrist, sucking more and more of her sweet vintage straight from her veins.

His heart broke at all of what could have been, at all the various futures and paths that faded from view. She wasn’t even conscious to enjoy this union, to feel the way their essences combined into one, stronger and equal and powerful the more he drank her down. She couldn’t hear the little praises he poured over her, her ears deaf to every time he called her his love, his darling, his treasure, the mate of his heart and soul…

But he poured them over her barely-conscious face all the same, peppering her face with bloodied kisses even as it grew white as a sheet.

One last bite was all it would take. This love of his life, near dead and almost lost to him a second time, she would be his forever.

As his fangs sunk into her neck, marking afresh the scars that had formed there over their weeks reunited, he drank his fill. Breaking away at last once she neared the very dregs of her life, Astarion stopped. He was breathless, his stomach full to near bursting, even though it no longer throbbed with a spawn’s hunger.

Hand shaking, he brought his wrist to his teeth, tearing a slit in own flesh to place against her chalky lips. He could sense it entering her body, dripping down her throat to pool in her own belly. But he held his breath all the same.

Body rigid, he had never been more afraid than right now, not as his love’s life hung in the balance, not as she counted on his power to bring her back into the same realm as him, even if it was under the veil of undeath.

Her lips stirred first against his wound, just a little movement, just a slight suck. Crimson eyes flashed open were once silver ones shined at him, and Corehelia smiled as she sucked down his blood.

Astarion finally breathed, his chest easing at last.

His bride was arising.

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

I do know that Ascension can be divisive, however I hope this gives some firmer ground to stand on… spoonfuls of “Burn the world” for his love and “Touch her and you die” make it go down smoother, I hope. No more long lost love💞

Aeterna Amantes

3 more days until Chapter 19: Dark Kissing, when she awakens🩸💞🗡️

[cinamun]

Alright y'all, I know I joke and talk hella shit about paywalls and early access, but follow me, I have a story to tell:

I actually subscribe to a couple Black women just because I like what they create, they are the only ones creating it and I just like to support because its almost always:

I use this game to write and to convey certain themes I need access to poses, presets, props and sometimes animations. Mind you, animators are the most notorious perma paywallers because they really only serve a niche group of simmers: storytellers and machinima creators. I have seen so many animations (using the free pose players) locked up for years.

I became a patron of probably the only Black woman WW animator who everyone loves because their animations are super dope and seamless. This person used to put out whole sets of animations each month. But then the trend started... these animators would put out one part of a full animation on the last day of the month, and the next part of the animation on the last day of the next month, so on and so forth (if you know WW, you know that animation sets come in phases like teasing, ha*djob, etc). At this point I ended my subscription because that's foul, greedy and I can get the shit for free anyway, I was just trying to be supportive but you cross the line when you get greedy at least for me anyway.

I'm saying all of that to say that MANY OF US subscribe to someone and that's cool, do you, I'm not pressed about your wallet. But you don't have to stay a patron of fuckshit. These people have laughed about us, shared personal info and all kinds of other unethical shit. You can delete that sub any time, friend. You don't have to be the first to have that hair. We all know its fucked and that's why sites exist to share that content freely (and that's also why I happily donate to those sites and you should too).

[kayetra-spade-queen]

Because I don't wanna make a video essay, so have a written essay instead because I absolutely can.

I'm gonna talk about the Loom of Fate, the 5 Sinners, and theorized what will happen to Teyvat.

(SPOILERS AHEAD. I SUGGEST GOING THROUGH THE QUEST FIRST)

I must warn you that these are all theories made by what's given by Genshin so far, so please don't take anything too seriously until we finally get the full picture.

Ok, so after AQ Bedtime Story (good god, that was a rollercoaster, although it was short), we've gathered a few things;

Loom of Fate is essentially made to replace or at least be on par with Irminsul, hence the connection between Ley Lines and people's memories.

The caused of the Khaenri'ah cataclysm wasn't the Khaenri'ahns entirely, but the 5 Sinners.

Celestia had been asleep ever since the cataclysm and hadn't woken up, even when Irminsul was altered and Focalors destroying her throne.

The Sinners (+ Dain) are trying to go up against a Vinster King.

The Sinners in question left Khaenri'ah when the cataclysm happened, leaving all of their people to deal with the bullshit they themselves had made. Talk about responsibility.

The Sinners

Hroptatyr The Wise: I assume that he will have something to do with the Forbidden Knowledge, that's why he was titled "the wise". We have not attain any information about him from any characters as of now.

Vedrfolnir The Visionary: We found out that he is Dainsleif's older brother, and we also found out that he is also the voice that we (reliving as our Sibling in memory) heard as "The Voice in The Head", and was the one who inspired Chlothar into founding the Abyss Order in the first place.

Rhinedottir Gold: We know that she is the creator of Albedo and his siblings. She was the one who brought abyssal monsters into Teyvat in the first place. For the longest time, I've suspected that she had been dead by getting killed, but now I think that she's still alive due to Kaeya's voiceline saying; "The Sinners are the ones that remains".

Surtalogi The Foul: We know that he is the master of Skirk. He was the one who brought the All-Devouring Narwhal onto Teyvat, and we know the whale isn't from Teyvat itself, and it came from somewhere in space. The whale got attracted by the many Primordial Sea because of the Fontainians are beings made out of Primordial Sea until they became fully human.

Rerir Rächer of Solnari: In mythology, Rerir wanted to avenge his father's death. Rerir in Genshin (who is a female due to the Rächer noun is feminine) could be indicating something similar, but what? Maybe... A death of a loved one?

Vinster King

So the Sinners are trying to go up against the Vinster King because of... Something.

First and foremost, the identity of Vinster King.

I believed that it's Phanes, aka the Primordial One. The one that created the 4 Shining Shades, and the one who founded the Heavenly Principles in the first place.

Why do I say that? Realized that Dain said that their goal is to stop the Vinster King from "continuing the rock foundation of this world"?

Phanes, in a sense did create Teyvat. Killing the Dragon Sovereigns and taking over their land, not to mention creating the civilization we know now is a form of "creating" this world, the world of Teyvat we all know now.

The Sinners had a reason to try and fight the Vinster King, or I guess in this case, the Primordial One.

But what? What happened between them that angered Phanes so much?

Creating a New World

I believe that the reason of the Sinners trying to fight Celestia was that they're trying to create a new world.

Was this a bit of a stretch? Maybe. But they are the ones who left Khaenri'ah when the abyss started to take over and when Celestia have to do what they could to stop it from spreading towards to the other nations.

Loom of Fate was one of the key factors into creating this new world, the same way Irminsul was. There could be other factors into making this new world the Sinners are trying to make, and one of them could involve the Forbidden Knowledge.

See, although Phanes did "make" Teyvat in a sense, it was still a stolen land by the end of the day, so maybe the Sinners are trying to create a world made by their own hands, and transporting the people of Teyvat to that new world, so they could live in a "pure world", where it was entirely theirs. Loom of Fate could also be made to make people forget about Celestia altogether, making the new world a purely-humanity-based world with no divine intervention.

Now, why would they do this? As mentioned before, these 5 people were the best in their fields, better than their own peers. I'd assume they got greedy and selfish, and when they found the power of the abyss, it brought them to the point of insanity, so they made these insane stunts to reach their goal, even if it meant putting their own people, and by extent everyone in the world into a bridge of chaos and suffering.

Hroptatyr & Rerir

We know 3 people so far, but how about the other 2?

Hroptatyr is called "the wise", which he is most likely to tie himself onto knowledge, and probably academically unparalleled back then among his people.

What if he got greedy, trying to get more knowledge? The Forbidden Knowledge was most likely his key to an otherworldly knowledge, something that no one, not even Rukkhadevata could understand as the god of knowledge. It won't be far fetched, since the power of the abyss was so powerful it can either be on par or exceed the power of the heavens to the point Celestia can't cure it.

Forbidden Knowledge can be very essential for creating the new world theory I mentioned in the previous section. Creating the very foundation of a world requires a ton of knowledge, so who's to say that Hroptatyr aren't trying to get his hands to that knowledge so he can't start making that world?

Rerir here is trying to avenge something (hence the word "Rächer"), but what? In the original Germanic mythology, Rerir is the son of Sigi, succeeds his murdered father and avenges his death. He rules in Hunaland and becomes a powerful ruler.

So, Rerir here in Genshin must've had something to do that's tied to death at some point. A dead loved one maybe that got killed by being murdered?

If that's the case, then Rerir is trying to avenge her loved one, or maybe a comrade, but to where? Maybe Phanes got something to do with it, but I'm not entirely sure.

I have my own speculations that Rerir is trying to resurrect that said person. Which, I get it, it doesn't follow through her title, but given that she attains the power of the abyss, who's to say that she won't try to do the art of resurrection? She'll definitely try to take advantage of that power and do whatever she could think off possible to make whatever she wished come true, including bringing back the dead.

Maybe that person got involved with Celestia, and Celestia was the cause of that person's death. Which would make sense if Rerir getting involved with Phanes herself because of it; she doesn't accept that the person she cares about being killed by the person who was supposed to be a god who loved humanity.

Celestia

Celestia, as we know it, is the cause of plenty of shit;

The one who destroyed an entire nation

The one who put a curse on said nation

The one who the archons are putting their distance at

The one who drove our Sibling to continue the Loom of Fate operation

The one who made the Tsaritsa going grocery shopping for the other archons' gnoses

The one who made the prophecy to drown Fontaine because Egeria made the sin of making Oceanids into humans

Stole a whole planet upon arrival

Killed the original residents of said planet

Using the remnants of the 3rd Descenders into making the gnoses

What we didn't know until a while ago about Celestia was;

Destroying the entire nation because there's no cure for the abyss and they're trying to protect the other nations

The power of the abyss was so powerful, it drained them to the point of slumber

Cursing the people of the nation because they thought the people responsible for creating the cataclysm was still there, not realizing that they had already left. Though I still disapprove of them cursing the entire population when they had absolutely nothing to do with it and was caught in a crossfire

Celestia wasn't the one who started the eradication of Khaenri'ah in the first place because they disapprove of the nation's independence; they were merely trying to protect the world from the abyss because it's the only way the knew best and are the only powerful method they had

Celestia exhaust themselves so badly, they went into a slumber that not even Focalors' stunt could even wake them up. So they've been inactive for the last 500 years

For the longest time, we've been under the impression that Celestia is the ultimate big bad of the game, which we have reasons why; the archons are against Celestia, a whole nation got destroyed by Celestia because it was assumed that they're being erased because of their independence, hell even trapping us into Teyvat without any way of leaving and locking our powers away.

In a sense, Celestia is still a big bad, but maybe not as big as the Sinners? I know I said that they're probably transporting the people from Teyvat to a new world they're making, but considering the fact that they left their own people to die, who's to say that they would most likely let the world perish and recreate their society and the entire humanity from scratch? And in order to do that, the existence of the previous humanity of the previous world have to be eradicated.

Thanks for coming to my ted talk :)

Extra:

Farewell Atossa

I apologize for making you know me unwillingly

Still, I do not wish you to forget me

(Translation by me, cuz good god this took so damn long translating this letter by letter-)

[soccerwag]

Wedding night with Hakim Ziyech plsss💋💋💋💋

I’ve been waiting for someone to request him. 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

(Not my gif, credits to creator)

Vowing my life to you

Pairing: hakim ziyech x reader

Summary: the day you both devoted the rest of your lives to one another

Warnings: none just pure fluff

(Not written in the view of Muslim culture, next time I will write hakim fanfics more based on his culture rather than the standard type, sorry I love you all)

————————————————————————

Today was the day. Today you’d be committing your life to the man you’ve loved since you were teenagers, to the man that makes you feel whole, to the man who could put a smile on your face in your worst and best moments but most importantly to your best friend.

You were nervous, not nervous as to what to say but nervous for the fact of what you might not be able to say. Nervous by how you might freeze up, might cry and mess your makeup up, nervous for the fact that today is the day you show your love you hold for him. You weren’t a bold person, you were more quiet natured and shy so the thought of all his friends and family and yours as well being there watching you guys gave you anxiety. You didn’t want ti mess anything up.

Little did you know he was just as nervous. His hands were sweating, he was pacing back and forth, adjusting his tie over and over again due to the feeling of suffocating. He was scared of how you’d react. He knows you love him and you know he loves you but the two of you were scared for the outlook of each other’s opinions.

It was go time though, he and his best men went and stood out on the alter while you wrapped your shaky arm around his fathers. His father offered to walk you down the isle since your father was never present in your life.

“It’s ok darling, you got this.” He said to you reassuringly.

All you could do was smile.

The music began playing as the doors opened for you. When you first laid your eyes on hakim the water works started. You felt tears of happiness cloud your vision.

Hakim started crying too. He couldn’t help himself. You looked gorgeous and he felt so lucky to finally make you his wife. The girl he’s lived for years. The woman he talked about creating a family with. The woman who pushed him into following his career goals even if it meant giving up a lot of quality time with him. The woman who had supported him through everything and never failed to show him how much she cares.

You and his father began walking down the isle. Everyone looked at you with smiles and eyes of awe. They all took in the beautiful sight and energy surrounding them that day.

When you made it to the alter, his father kissed your hand before placing it in hakim’s. Hakim helped you up and grabbed your other hand running his thumb back and forth on it to comfort and calm your nerves. He knew you so well.

He decided to say his vows first.

He looked you directly in the eyes before speaking.

“Y/n, my best friend, my partner in crime, my lover, my peace, my happiness, my life, I’ve loved you since we were teenagers, granted I never told you till years later, you were always the one who had my heart. The day we met I remember it so vividly, we were 15 and we shared mutual friends. We all gathered at a park to place football and you sat on the side line keeping score. The way you smiled and laughed pinged my heart. The way you stick your tongue out when your focusing, the way the wind blew through your hair, the way you blew the whistle when one of us fouled the other. Everything about you swept me off my feet. I knew that day that I’d one day make you mine, to spend the rest of my life with, to create a family and a future from. You y/n we’re the best thing I ever had the chance to bring into my life and I’ll always be thankful for that day.” Hakim said while whipping away your tears with his thumb.

You laughed before taking a deep breath and stating yours.

“Hakim, I knew your vows would be better than mine, you’ve always had a way with words. From the day you asked for my number to the day you proposed, you’ve never failed to completely knock me off my feet. The way you’ve taken care of me, the way you always put me first, the way you listened to me when I vented to the way you always rubbed my back to help me fall asleep, this all feels so unreal, to think I’m marrying the guy I’ve had my heart set on since 15. You’ve never failed to show me how much I mean to you and you’ve always done everything you could for me. I love the way you nutmeg me with ransoms things that are on the floor and in your reach, I love the way you sing along to songs with me, I love you.” You said crying even more.

“Do your hakim ziyech take y/n y/l to be your lawfully wedded wife through sickness and through health.” The priest said.

“I do” hakim said before placing the ring on your finger.

“And do you miss y/n y/l take hakim ziyech to be your lawfully wedded husband, through sickness and through health.” The priest said once more.

“I do.” You said before placing his ring on his finger.

“I now announce y/n ziyech and hakim ziyech as husband and wife, you may kiss the bride.” The priest said with a huge smile.

Hakim took no time before before grabbing your waist and kissing you passionately.

He pulled away and looked you right in the eyes while holding your cheeks.

“Y/n ziyech, I’m now vowing my life to you, to cherish you and to always love you.” He said before kissing you once more as the crowd cheered.

[naamahdarling]

On AI art. I realize this may be unpopular, and it's rambling.

I like it. Setting aside all the issues with it's creation, I love how a lot of it looks. So much is off about many of the images, and yet they possess this magnetic appeal: it's created to be superficially interesting to us, but on examination, many of the details are nonsense. And I fucking love that. I love it. I LOVE the unreal quality. It's like catnip to my brain, it's fantastic. I essentially love it for all the reasons it is detectably fake and not quite right. I love it for the reasons some people say it's shitty.

If it's based on images it scraped without consent, that's morally wrong to profit from. If it's not identified as what it is and something is being sold, that's also arguably wrong. But simply creating it isn't innately wrong, nor is its artificial nature in any way inherently detrimental to its potential as a means of expression. (Labor, length of training, time it takes to create, having no physical presence, NONE of these automatically add or subtract value from art, though all possess potential to do both.)

Many AI artists I watch have stopped tagging their work as such to avoid things like death threats from people specifically searching AI art tags to find people to harass. That is so fucked up. I am not at all fond of how people exploring this medium are being treated, regardless of where their bot gets its data, and I am deeply disgusted by how ableist and foul the dialog around it is. Just about the worst shit I have ever seen.

And I don't like its dismissal as not art because it's "just feeding prompts into a bot". There IS more to it than that, for the people I have been watching. And FFS, the Museum of Non-Visible Art COMPLETELY shatters the idea that four lines of description aren't artistically valuable. I have seen not one valid argument for its wholesale exclusion as an artistic medium, and doubt I will.

This is a matter of ethical means of production. Not whether it is "real" art.

I have been creating and experiencing art my entire life, and continually challenge myself to understand and define my relationship to it by exposing myself to art I admire and also a whole lot of art I don't actually like or see value in or consider successful in the execution of its intent.

After 45 years of disliking a great many things, I think the only thing I understand is this: art is something that happens between the person interacting with it and the work itself, both with the creator as they create, and with the person who winds up experiencing that creation.

I wish more people asked themselves what was happening for the artist, what is happening for them, instead of dismissing art they don't find appealing as "not art".

And we need to stop suicide-baiting people over this horseshit.

[averywiseanimatedcat]

Rewatching Good Omens season 2 liveblog

Episode 3, ‘I know where I’m going’ Post 2

Previous post link (Post 1)

Crowleys lines in this flash back are top tier:

“You say potato, I say EXCELLENT.”

“BOudey snatchin”

David again killing it with the line delivery. I’m so glad he had an opportunity to really put his foot down with the Scottish accident in this.

*Aziraphale agrees that Elspeth is going to hell*

“Well it was lovely to meet you.”

Aziraphale you foul beast what was this. I don’t know how Crowley didn’t just award you top demon for this remark that was COLD.

Pffff Crowley walking along with the body cart in his hat just having a good ol time. Unbothered not-lad.

*cue moral discussion around good, evil and poverty. Again we see how Aziraphale is really unable to see things as morally grey. He thinks things are either good or bad and that’s it. He’s really out here calling Crowley evil when he’s busy skipping off excitedly home to write in his little diary every time he gets to see him???Aziraphale??? Look at yourself honey??? You’re simping again???

And his comment about poor people having more opportunities (to be good I imagine he meant) he probably was also referring to Crowley. As in Crowley is at the bottom so the only way he can go is up or he has more freedom to choose. Which is, objectively wrong, and morally very simplistic (and also wrong). I want Crowley to stand infront of Aziraphale and just say ‘you’re wrong’ in season 3 because I feel like no one has just said that to his face and he needs it.

Well we have to talk about the Bentley…he was having such a good time on his little road trip.

“Change it back!” 👹

“But it’s pretty!” 🤭

I needed Aziraphale being ridiculously sweet and funny in the present day to offset my annoyance with him in the flashback.

And here we have the second item on my list of ‘things I don’t care about’, directly under Gabriel:

Jacket AND glasses off in the bookshop, we really are in the end times because we get to see the swagger even more without the jacket. And his arm band thing. He looks so at home.

Also my child was a PHYSICIST he was part of the group that INVENTED GRAVITY. He clearly had his memory wiped after he fell and he doesn’t remember about why they made gravity I can’t stop thinking about how much he must have known about science and the universe before he fell. He probably wrote allot of that book we see in the first scene of S2 when he’s making the nebula.

The more I think about Crowley the more I understand him. He went from being a literal creator of the universe to a forgotten demon stripped of all of his accomplishments. He probably doesn’t even remember most of them. And he probably lost all of his knowledge about the universe and how it all works. He truely had his whole self ripped from him. And it makes sense why he doesn’t seem to have a hobby now, his thing was creation. And that’s not something he can just do or find a substitute for like Aziraphale can do his book collecting. And that’s why he’s so lost for a purpose. And why he’s so determined to stop the end of the world, it’s his creation, his life.

And I’m sad now so here’s the book throw aka. Comedy gold.

PLotTinG ‘vavoom’ he really just wanted someone to listen to his plan and if it had to be Gabriel/Jim then that’s who I had to be. He was just happy to have a job to do…that wasn’t throwing books around

When Aziraphale turned that body into soup and Crowley was like *DISAPPOINTED HUSBAND FACE*.

Crowley is truely, incredibly patient with Aziraphale. Crowley went out of his way to help Elspeth. And he acts like it’s because it’s wicked and honestly that’s probably half of the fun for him, but he could also see the genuine suffering and he wanted to help her. Funnily enough, if Aziraphale haddnt of put his nose in it Crowley could’ve helped Elspeth with 0 consequences because it looked evil. And I wonder how much he does ‘good’ things in a way that Hell won’t notice because it looks evil from the outside. I mean he’s been a demon for thousands of years? How’s he filling the time? Doing things like this? Aziraphale has caught him doing this twice now, doing ‘good’ things right under Hells nose.

Next post link (Post 3)

[soundcrusher]

Alright! I’m done with a ref-thingy for Vulpi and I finally got some motivation to write something about her!

She was created by the same group of scientist that also made Quick Search and thus is “linked” to the small terminal through a bond that’s similar to those of siblings. This bond also gives them the ability to share information between each other and communicate when separated and might be the reason why Vulpi gained a quicker sentience than other AI on the ship.

While Quick Search’s job is to keep an eye on the ship and database, Vulpi walks through the halls in search of troublemakers. Using the “Link” with Quick Search to ask him about the whereabouts of those stirring unrest among the crew, before hunting them down and, if she can, getting rid of the threat. (Should the threat be too big, Wolf, the third in the “Link”, will be called on the scene.)

Due to her having two modes, a fox and bi-pedal one, she often gains certain looks from the crew. Looks she hates but can’t escape from because of her position among the crew.

Vulpi might be younger, in comparison to Quick Search, she acts older. Taking up the role of older sister in the family unit she, Quick Search and Wolf have created, and going out of her way to protect her “siblings” from the rest of the crew. Especially Quick Search, due to him often being the one to get picked on.

The hate she feels towards her creators is immense. If the captain wouldn’t have gotten rid of them, she would have probably done it herself.

She wasn’t on the ship when it crash-landed. One of the crew members took her with them, separating her from her “siblings”, which was the crew members’ last mistake. As soon as the crew member on lined her, she attacked and killed him. Hunting down anyone who could know the location of the ship afterwards.

Vulpi’s hate towards Cybertronians might as well be as big as the one she has for her creators. So far, all she ever experienced from them was abuse and humiliation. So, she feels no remorse when one should “accidentally” find their end when fighting her. The only love and compassion she has is for her “siblings” and other AI’s, with one exemption, the Cybertronian scientist Wolf befriended. Other than that, she was wronged too many times to care for others.

She was once programmed to speak, but after speaking out about the crew’s treatment of AI’s, the captain took her voice. Now she’s only able to communicate through growls, or Quick Search translates for her. (Although, he doesn’t really like doing it, because Vulpi uses a lot of “foul words” he doesn’t understand and or feels uncomfortable to repeat.)

[waterdhaviancheesecake]

(from @wyllwithay)

For the uncommon OC and Creator asks!

3, 6, 9 for the ocs

And E for the creator

answering these for Evander because he's a good boy

How do they put themselves to bed at night (reading, singing, thinking?)

Evander will usually fall asleep reading about romance and adventure, but sometimes his final thoughts as he drifts off to sleep are prayer

Do they consider laws flexible, or immovable?

it depends on the intent of the law. obviously laws that are used to hurt the people aren't ones to be kept to if it means you have to participate in harming. his oath, however, is absolute law, and it's immovable. I can't imagine what Evander would go through mentally if he broke his oath.

Do they swear? Do they remember their first swear word?

he doesn't really swear or use any sort of foul language. He said arse in the temple when he was 10 and he had to write lines for a few hours after.

Are they someone you would get along with? Would they get along with you?

I would definitely like him. he's a kind and socially conscious man and he doesn't judge (a non-judgmental paladin can you believe it) I think he'd be cool with me. we might not have many shared hobbies though so we wouldn't hang out much but I don't think he minds smoking and I swear about as much as Karlach and he loves her.

thank you for the questions 💕💕💕💕

[theresawritesstuff]

1, 6, 7, and 9 about your current fave fic of yours (I'm not familiar with what midgexlenny is, but tell me about it if you want to!)

Lol oh I do sometimes feel bad for my poor Sherlolly mutuals putting up with me while I lose it over a different ship ❤️ they're different but the venn diagram of pairings does overlap in places.

First off, this is Midge and Lenny from Amy Sherman Palladino's The Marvelous Mrs Maisel. They're two foul mouthed stand up comedians in the late 1950s/early 1960s and they're soulmates.

If you enjoy Gilmore Girls level fast paced dialogue but with more f bombs and so so so many pretty dresses I definitely recommend at least bits of the show.

Being that Lenny is a fictionalized version of real life comedian Lenny Bruce (originally intended to only appear in the pilot but they brought him back as part of the show because the chemistry was just too good. The actors are friends in real life and the joy in working together comes through in some really beautiful performances) the final canon of the show was a bit handcuffed on just how far the creators decided they could let the ship sail but that's where the fanfic comes in 😂

Which brings me to my fic Guess Who's Coming to Yom Kippur!

*What is your favorite thing about this fic?*

This was my first dive into writing for this fandom and it has been so much fun. Truly delightful! So many things I've enjoyed with this one. But my favorite thing I think is that it really is an ensemble piece. The characters of the show are all very nuanced, often delightfully flawed, sometimes wacky individuals and I love giving them all a seat at the table and getting to know them. Sometimes quite literally within the fic (it centers around a big family dinner for several chapters). I've had to think of scenes cinematically and it's stretched my dialogue writing in a really enjoyable way. There's at least one scene I wrote visualizing it as a long tracking shot with characters moving in and out, very high energy and lovingly chaotic. It's a fic that has a lot to do with family both found and blood related and how love can show up and show through in a lot of humorous ways.

*Were there any alternative versions of this fic?*

Yes! I originally came up with the idea a season prior to my actually getting around to writing it (wrote it after watching season 4, thought of it watching season 3). The original vague concept for it was much shorter and ended with Midge and Lenny in more of an ambiguous but hopeful "maybe someday" where as the current fic has them very much endgame. And I'm quite happy with that. I feel like I discover more about the story and the characters the longer I work on it. I'm eventually going to write a sequel because I'm having so much fun (another first for me!)

*Favorite line of narration/ Favorite bit of dialogue*

So this fic is currently sitting at over 62k words and counting (it comes with trying to emulate Amy Sherman Palladino levels of dialogue) Easily the longest thing I've written 😅😅😅 I'm not sure I could pick any specific favorites without reading through the whole thing again. And maybe not even then. There's a lot of moments I'm very fond of. Though most probably require more context than would make it easy to share. I'll include a snippet of the tracking shot arrival scene I mentioned since that doesn't require a ton of context from the show other than knowing the names mostly.

In this bit they're arriving at a party hosted by Midge's ex in-laws and Lenny is meeting her older brother Noah and his wife Astrid for the first time. Esther is Midge's two year old daughter. Noah is canonically a secret agent. Lenny is known for getting arrested for things he says in his stand up (a proponent of free speech in a red scare era).

They arrived at the Maisel residence as dusk began to settle in over the sleepy suburb.

"Hi everyone! Sorry we're late. Esther needed to make a pit stop," Midge called out as they let themselves through the front door.

"Us too! We just got in," Noah said from somewhere deeper in the house.

Midge set the kids loose and made her way towards the kitchen. "Mama, Shirley, what can I help with? Oh, Esther sweetie, I don't think Grandma wants you touching that."

"Hi Midge," Astrid greeted, coming in holding little Chaim.

"Hey Astrid! One second," Midge called over her shoulder, rushing to corral Esther away from the more breakable tchotkes. "Esther. Esther put that down!"

Lenny smiled, collecting the kids discarded shoes into a pile by the door.

"Oh hi! You must be Midge's friend." Astrid gave him a welcoming smile.

"Lenny," he supplied.

"Lenny. So nice to meet you. I'm Astrid. This is Chaim." She held her son out for him to hold, passing him off. "Would you mind?"

"Oh I–" Lenny took Chaim in hand on reflex as Astrid didn't wait for a yes or no.

"Thanks." 

She gave him another quick smile before dashing out the front door and wretching over the porch rail.

Lenny held Chaim at arms length, both too stunned by the transfer to know how to proceed. 

"Hello…" he attempted, looking the child in the eye.

"Astrid, honey?" Midge's brother's lanky limbs carried him into the foyer in search of his wife.

Midge returned with a rescued porcelain figurine in hand. "Hey Noah, how was traffic–oh my god."

She stepped out immediately to check on Astrid the moment she saw her, leaving Lenny with Noah and his offspring.

"Yours, I believe," Lenny said finally, handing Chaim to Noah.

"Yeah…" Noah replied, taking his son while glancing after his wife and sister in concern.

The two men stared each other down for a moment, neither one quite sure how to react to the other.

"I'm Lenny."

"I know."

[duckprintspress]

“Aim For The Heart” Creator Spotlight: Sebastian Marie

Duck Prints Press (the indie Press founded by fandom folks to publish the original work of fandom folks) is nearing the end of our current crowdfunding campaign to publish our next anthology, Aim For The Heart: Queer Fanworks Inspired by Alexandre Dumas’s “The Three Musketeers”! Four days left til the Kickstarter ends, three creators left to spotlight, and a little over $3k to go to hit our first stretch goal!

Here, check out another story teaser, this one by Sebastian Marie! The tag line on this one, per Sebastian, is: THE MUSKETEERS IF THEY WERE HOT BUTCHES FROM FLORIDA. If that isn’t an elevator pitch to get your attention, I don’t know what is…

Pensacola’s Most Wanted by Sebastian Marie

About the Author: Sebastian Marie (he/him) is an engineering student with a penchant for writing off-the-wall fantasy, darkly comedic prose, and sickeningly indulgent short stories. He has a lot of opinions about dragons, pirates, and sword fighting. Track him down on Ao3 and he’ll share these opinions through fanfiction for various fandoms including BBC Merlin, The Mechanisms, and Our Flag Means Death. His original works often combine fantasy and dystopia into what he calls “queer fantasy hopepunk,” something that will be explored in his future novels. He loves to write conflicting traditional and non-traditional family dynamics, especially where they intersect with queer relationships. And if he can throw werewolves and brujas into the mix? So much the better. When not writing, frantically studying dirt, or reading, he can be found singing loudly, sewing impractical coats, playing Dungeons and Dragons, and going on long rambling walks while plotting stories (and occasionally falling into rivers).

This is his second time writing for Duck Prints Press, having previously contributed to She Wears the Midnight Crown. This brings his grand total of published works up to two! He’s looking forward to more, as soon as he gets some sleep.

Links: Archive of Our Own | Tumblr

Story Teaser:

“So,” Connie drawls, wrapping herself around Darcy, her wife of two days, as they enter their private dormitory. “You gonna explain to me exactly how you managed to get all those recommendation letters?”

Darcy is still riding the highs of A: marriage, B: watching an excellent con come to fruition, and C: as a direct result of that con, successfully enrolling in the New Pensacola branch of the Florida Academy for Fighting Arts (FAFA for the initiated) after a full year of waiting. She just smiles and wraps a hand around her wife’s waist. “Are you insinuating, Mrs. Batz, that there was foul play involved?”

“I know there was some funny business, Mrs. Batz, what with who your aunt and uncles are. I think I deserve the story.”

“Hey, I didn’t know they were infamous when they adopted me.”

“Story, now.”

“Okay, okay.”

We’ve got this whole story, and 19 other fabulously queer tales, AND a whole delightful pile of queerified musketeer art, in this anthology – don’t miss it! Visit our campaign page now!

[numenorrex]

Why I Like the World of Tolkien So Much

     Why do I like the world of Tolkien so much? Is it because I like that it is medieval-inspired or because it is majestic? Ever since I watched The Lord of the Rings movies by Peter Jackson I was amazed by the beauty of the world and its geography, and how the characters and locations were brought to life. Not only was it majestic and medieval-inspired–it was the most amazing thing I saw in my entire life.

     But I found out that there is more. There were stories before the Lord of the Rings like The Hobbit which is about Bilbo Baggins going on adventures and The Silmarillion which is like everything in one like the Bible. I was shocked to learn about these stories and the biology of every being in the World of Arda.

   I found out Arda is the name of the World or Earth in Tolkien’s works. I was introduced to a character named Eru Illuvatar who is known as God in Tolkien’s works and the Ainur who are the angels/gods who are divided into two groups The Valar who are based on Christianity, Norse Mythology and Greek mythology, and the Maiar who are the angels. 

The Valar like Manwe and Varda based on Zeus and Hera from Greek Mythology, Odin and Frigg from Norse, Joseph and Mama Mary from Christianity, Ulmo based on Poseidon, Mandos based on Hades from Greek and Hela from Norse, Melkor aka Morgoth based on Satan, Nienna, Vaire, Aule based on Hephaestus, Yvanna based on Demeter, Vanna, Orome, Tulkas, Este and Nessa.

The Maiar are servants of the Valar, in earlier versions the Maiar are the sons and daughters of the Valar but they were changed to be servants instead of children. The Maiar include the Istari or Wizards like Gandalf, Saruman, Radagast, and the Blue Wizards, Eonwe, Osse and Iluin, Melian, Mairon (later named Sauron), and the Balrogs. 

It is possible that characters like werewolves, vampires, and other characters like Ungoliant and Tom Bombadil are Ainur but Tom Bombadil is actually the Spirit created by the song of the Ainur. 

Some Valar like Aule, Yvanna and Melkor created their own people Aule created the Dwarves, Yvanna created the Ents, but Aule felt that creating a race of people is mistake so he tried to destroy his creation but Illuvatar stopped him, like how God stopped Abraham from sacrificing Isaac, Yvanna feared that the Dwarves the Creation of her husband would cut her Trees so she begged Manwe and Eru to create a new race of people known as Ents, Melkor wanted to create his own race of beings with the Flame imperishable or the Secret Fire but it only is part of Eru alone, so Melkor decided to take action during the song Ainur, Melkor does his Discord but Eru tells Melkor that he is Mighty but He alone is the creator, which makes Melkor unhappy but he hides his feelings, But due to the discord it created a dark spirit named Ungoliant who takes the form of a Spider and the mother of the Spiders like Shelob, Melkor did create other creatures by corrupting some of the Elves and became known as Orcs, Trolls were made by Melkor in mockery of Ents, Dragons and other foul creatures.

     Another thing I like about Tolkien’s World are the many Peoples of Middle Earth, also known as the Children of Illuvatar. They are races of beings like Elves, Men, Dwarves, and Hobbits. Elves are the firstborn children of Illuvatar, They’re immortal and stay young even if they reach 90, 100, or more. If Elves die they go to the Halls of the Vala Mandos to be re-embodied. Humans or Men are Mortal and live shorter lives, which is a Gift from Illuvatar Himself. However, One Man did fell in love with an Elf and They are Beren and Luthien. Beren and Luthien along with Tuor and Idril started a new race known as the Half Elves like Dior Eluchîl, Elured and Elurin, Ellwing, Earendil, Elrond, Elros, Elledan and Elrohir, Arwin and the line of Numenor. Dwarves are actually adopted by Eru along with Hobbits, but Dwarves and Hobbits like Men are Mortal. Dwarves like Durin, Thorin and Company, and Gimli live in Caves that they established as their Kingdoms and Mines. Hobbits live in Hobbit holes which are built on hills. I really love characters like Frodo, Bilbo, Sam, and everyone, and they even reflect Tolkien himself Because it reflects his life with his friends and family.

     Beren and Luthien is a couple that was based on Tolkien’s love story with his wife Edith. Beren was a Man who fled an attack from Sauron’s fortress Tol in Gaurhoth, traveling to the Mountains and Valley where Ungoliant’s Spiderlings lived and reaching Neldoreth where he meets Luthien and was Tasked to steal a Silmaril from Morgoth’s Crown to win his blessing to Luthien’s father Elu Thingol. Luthien was an Elf but not your ordinary elf as she was half-Maia, and her Mother Melian is Maia, Melian met Thingol in a small forest called Nan Elmoth, where she created a girdle surrounding Doriath and Neldoreth. Luthien helped her love, Beren, along with Huan the Valinorian Hound to steal a Silmaril. Beren decides to steal all three of them but his knife breaks and runs with Luthien to escape Angband but Beren loses his hand and the Silmaril to Carcharoth the Werewolf, Thingol decides to wed Beren and Luthien and hunt the wolf down but it claimed the lives of Beren, Huan, and Luthien but Luthien sang a song to Mandos about her grief and she along with Beren where brought back. Beren and Luthien would have a son named Dior who would later succeed his Grandfather as King of Doriath. Beren and Luthien did die one last time, although Luthien was half-elf, half-Maia she gave up her immortality to be with Beren one last time.

     Orcs are another race of being in Middle Earth. It is believed that they were elves once before Melkor corrupted them. When they multiply in number they can participate in many battles. Orcs along with Goblins, Uruk Hai, and Man Orcs serve Morgoth, Sauron, The Witch King, and Saruman and are loyal to their evil masters. Hobgoblins are superior orcs like the Uruk Hai they are strong and smart. There are also orcs like Azog, Bolg, Shagrat, and Radbug who are vicious in many of their own ways.  Orcs use terms like “snaga” which means slave in Black speech. Another term they use is  “snufflers” which is how they refer to their wide nostrils.

     Another race that serves Morgoth is the race of Trolls. While Orcs are mockeries of Elves, the Trolls are mockeries of the Ents. There are many Trolls in Middle Earth. Hill Trolls live in Hills and are seen opening the Black Gate. Cave Trolls are another type of Troll that live in caves, like the one we see in Moria in the Fellowship of the Ring. Mountain Trolls live in Mountains and are known to push the battering ram called Grond to ram the gates into Minas Tirith. Snow Trolls are rare in Middle Earth but we did see one in the Rings of Power TV show and they are mentioned in the story of Helm Hammerhand to describe Helm as he was looking for food and fighting off enemies with his bare hands. Half Trolls like Half-Orcs and Goblin Men are a mix between Trolls and Men. The Olog Hai, meaning Troll people, (like Uruk Hai means Orc People) are a group of Trolls known for war, as we see in the battle at the Black Gate in Return of the King. And there are the Three Stone Trolls: Bert, Tom, and Bill, whom Bilbo and Thorin’s company meet in The Hobbit.

     Ents and Huorns are races of being in Middle Earth that resemble Trees. Ents and Entwives (like Treebeard, Fimbrethil, and Quickbeam), and Huorns like Old Man Willow live in forests like the old forest and Fangorn. We don’t see the Entwives in the films because the Entwives disappeared during the War of the Last Alliance in the Second Age, when Sauron burned the Gardens of the Entwives.

     We cannot forget about the animals of Middle Earth. Middle Earth has so many animals either domesticated or wild. Animals like Dogs such as Huan the Hound, and the dogs of Farmer Maggot, cats like the cats of Queen Beruthiel, horses and ponies like Bill the Pony, Nahar, Snowmane, Shadowfax, Felarof, and the Mearas, Asfaloth and Rochallor, wolves, wargs and werewolves like Drauglin, Carcharoth and wargs of the Uruks of Isengard and Bolg’s forces, Vampires and Bats like Thuringwethil (Fact: Sauron in the story of Beren and Luthien shapeshifts into a werewolf to fight Huan and a vampire to flee), Spiders or Ungol like Ungoliant, Shelob, The Spiders of Mirkwood and the Spiders of Nandungortheb and Ered Gorgoroth, Dragons which include both Fire and Cold Drakes like Glaurung, Ancalagon, the Beast of Gondolin, Gostir, Scatha and Smaug, Hellhawks or Fell Beasts, Birds like the Great Eagles and other various creatures.

     I also love the places and locations of Middle Earth. Places like the lands of Beleriand, The island of Numenor and the lands we all know and loved in the movies.

The artifacts are another thing I love. Artifacts like The Silmarils, Phials, The Rings of Power, The Arkenstone and Various Treasures and Weapons like the Swords, Axes, Bows and Arrows and Hammers and Maces. Swords like Anglachel aka Gurthang, Anguriel, Glamdring, Orcrist and Sting, Narsil aka Anduril, the Morgul blade, etc. Bows and Arrows like the Red arrow, the Bow of Legolas, etc. Axes like Dramborleg, Durin’s Axe, The Red axe of Dain Ironfoot, The Axe of Gimli, The Hammers like the Smithing Hammers of Celebrimbor and the Gwaith I mir dain and the Maces like Grond the Mace of Morgoth to whom the Battering Ram is named after.

     But why do I love these things? Because I was fascinated by how the lore describes them. The feeling is what reflects us and Tolkien himself like how Beren and Luthien is based on his love story with his wife and the names were written in their tombstone after they passed away. The friendship between Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin reflects the Tea Club and Barrovian Society, the club Tolkien founded when he met Geoffrey Bache Smith, Christopher Wiseman, and Robert Gilson. Geoffrey was the Samwise Gamgee to Tolkien’s Frodo Baggins, and Edith was the Luthien to Tolkien’s Beren. I too describe myself as these characters like I am the Frodo to my brother’s Samwise but I’m also the Bilbo, Thorin, and Theoden to the children who are new to our family, and The Beren or Aragorn to maybe someone I would fall in love with, but when I saw the Tolkien Movie, I knew that I would also be like him, to start and bring back the Club he started at a very young age, fall in love and write a love story or tell a story about fellowship and friendship and maybe I would succeed everyone like Tolkien until the end.

[tryst-art-archive]

Khra-nicles: Narrators Scrap

Condescending minutes slipped by in the conga line of time. I fidgeted unhappily; they were making me wait just for the sake of being rude; they always did.  They’d be hoping I would think and brood and make myself nervous. The fact that it was working only served to irk me.

              At length, the tall members of the Narrator’s Council slipped into the Audience Chamber, moving with a faint rush as of the wind through reeds. Surrounded by Dragonfolk eyes with their unnamable quality of Knowing, I rose from my chair and stared coolly down at them, my own Knowing eyes staring back, but from a Raethiann face.

              Well, “staring down” isn’t quite right. Sitting, they were at my eye level. Standing, they towered above me; I’m unusually short for a Narrator.

              The moderator of the Council, Mevit (whose name was half decent as far as Dragonfolk names go), presently opened the meeting with the traditional phrase: “I Know.” I shuddered inside at the sentence (spoken in the language of the Dragonfolk, of course); I had always been highly atypical of the Dragonfolk and had always been righteously proud of the fact. My long removal from the Verde Islands to the land of animal-men, Raeth, had further deteriorated the Dragonfolk thread in me. The Raethian “mellowness” (as they say in P’tak) had seeped into me and though I was pretentious for a Raethian, I was unduly casual for a Dragonfolk woman. The occasional trips to the human continent, Nassab, had striped away various Dragonfolk sensibilities, leaving me strange to humans, Raethians, and the Dragonfolk alike.

              But I hardly minded any of that; what bothered me now was the complacency in that single “I know.” There were undertones there. Tones of “I KNOW because I have been CHOSEN and you, who are so much more foolish than I, could never hope to KNOW AS I KNOW. I humbly request that you do not attempt to fool thineself.”

              “Rhawen Evergreen Fox,” Mevit said, saying the name like it was something foul. “Do you know why we have called you here?”

              “Not for tea and biscuits, I expect,” I replied, unamused. Vihemeth frowned at me, looking more like a person deserving such a godawful name in doing so. He’d just love it if I behaved myself and did as I was told, I thought. He’s a good man, but he’s still Dragonfolk in the end.

              Mevit had said something, but I’d missed it, calling attention to my ignorance with a distinctive “Wut?”

              It was hard not to laugh at Mevit when he was angry. “We have called you here,” he said slowly, “to discuss your latest Tale regarding one Kriamiss Orientere.”

              “Ah, yes. And I think it’ll be a good one, too. Perhaps you’d like to read what I have down so far?”  Oh, sarcasm! Truly, you are my friend.

              “That is unnecessary; we here have no desire to read code-breaking drivel.”

              “Oh,” I said. But what ran through my mind was righteous anger; such an insult! Me! A nearly-omniscient Narrator, charged (amongst others) with recording the great histories of the world, write drivel? Oh, there would be hell to pay.

              “‘Oh’, indeed.” Mevit glared over steepled fingers, trying too look menacing but really trying to hard for it to be effective. “Rhawen E. Fox, you are charged with the heinous crime of placing yourself in your own Tale and interfering with its natural flow.”

              “And for wearing that horrid form!” Glaivde added in her shrill voice. She had recently spent some time with a noble family on Nassab and wore a human form; she appeared as exactly the sort of wrinkled old woman to own such a nails-on-the-chalkboard voice. The stereotyping was rather comical.

              Ignoring Glaivde, I responded with my best scolding mother voice. “Why, Mevit, I’m surprised at you. How can you presume to know what the Creators intend for a Tale?” (Much to my pleasure, Vihemeth looked a bit like he was going to blow a gasket; how I do love vexing him.)

              I was rewarded with an affronted gasp on all sides; Mevit’s was followed by the spluttered statement, “W-we are omniscient, Rhawen, and—“

              “Nearly omniscient, Mevit,” I corrected. “And you forget that I share that same omniscience with you and the rest of those noble Narrators here gathered. If any Creator wished our omniscience to know their designs, I would know them as sure as you would. No Creator has condemned my action, though I have broken the rules and done so consciously.” Murmured disgust drifted through the room. Consciously neglecting the Narrator’s code?! Preposterous! Unthinkable!

              “Blasphemy!” was the particular adjective to fly from Glaivde. It summed up their mood nicely.

              Vihemeth rose, hands on table, leering over me. “What nonsense are you suggesting, Rhawen?” It was, perhaps, incredibly lucky that his posture prevented the others from getting a clear look at his face, for behind that queer Dragon quality in his eyes, his everlasting sympathy for me was plain to see and all the political maneuvering in the world would not have saved his reputation – that one thing that seemed to save me, again and again, from losing the station of Narrator, my reason for being.

              I dropped my eyes from his and looked toward Mivet instead. “I merely suggest that the rules be broken this once. After all, I have already taken up the Tale and must see it through to the end.”

              “That is as may be. We cannot argue the necessity of completing a Tale.” Mevit exchanged nods with his fellows. “However,” he said now, the old hatred flaring, “that still begs the question: what is to become of you and your Tale afterward? You have broken the rules, Rhawen. The impartiality of the Tale is tainted by your personal involvement, and the old rule that we never write of ourselves broken.”

              In a fit of frustration, Vihemeth threw out, “At least you haven’t written of one of our Council meetings!”

              A small smile slipped onto my face, just for Vihemeth to see, and he looked suddenly terribly afraid, breathing, “Oh, you wouldn’t… would you? No, Rhawen, don’t—“

              But I turned away from him; Mevit was jabbering again.

              “I believe it would be wise for us to revoke your right to Narrate and destroy the Tale in question upon its completion.”

              A stony cold silence entered the room; this was a radical move. Not unheard of, but still terribly harsh.

              Presently, the unthinkable happened; Glaivde spoke in my defense.

              “Mevit,” she began timidly. “Are you certain of the wisdom of this? Her crime is steep, indeed, but to both prevent her further Writing and destroy the Tale… well. That’s just… cruel, isn’t it?”

              Mevit began softly, gaining volume and passion as he spoke. “Need I remind you, Glaivde, that Rhawen has been a thorn in our side for many years now, constantly pushing against the limitations specified by the Narrator’s Code, constantly just being out of our judicial grasp. Well, not today.”

              “You look like Maroc.” The tyrant’s name slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it, and the silence that settled was the silence before the ice cracks and the frozen waters swallow you whole.

              “I am no tyrant, Rhawen.” It was a quiet phrase. Deadly quiet.

              Words tumbled out, unchecked and unstoppable. “No. At least, not in name. This Council eats from your hand, though. Surely you know that much. Surely you’ve learned to use it. And this is why you want me gone, isn’t it? It isn’t about the Narrators’ ideals or any thing else like them.” I could feel the horrified stares of my fellow Narrators. They knew all this, had known all this, but here I was, in ill graces, committing virtual or literal suicide by saying the things that were better left unsaid.

              Mevit and I stared at each other for a long time. At length, he said, “Go. You and your Tale are safe.” There was a tacit “for the time being,” understood by all.

              I bowed, and left the room. I could hear the clamor of their voices as I walked down the hall.

[storytimewithnova]

TEACHERS PET

CONTENT WARNINGS

Hey hey hey author chan here before we start this js not suitable for underage reader here is your warning to click away now find nother content creator Right if all the underage have clicked away i will get in to the warns this will contains inappropriate actions to minors foul language Overprotective Boyfriends and brothers Sexualiztion and Perversed Fantasies this is a very real thing and i am using a srory based on my experience

Backstory

Sho will be narrating what is happening to her there is a version of her watching this happening and is disgusted not just by her teacher but herself as well you will know when sho is Narrating because it will she will be called Narrator let's start

Sho was in her music lesson which she had private lessons for she wanted to be a musician with her BF semi and Akaashi agreed to be their manager her brother approved her dream and got her lessons what he wasn't expecting was what they were about to witness when an unknown person sent a video to their GC

Unknown hacked the GC

Unknown sent a video

Unknown left

Akaashi: so shall we watch it

Semi: i believe we have no choice

Narror:🎶 Caught the teacher giving his eyes to a student Thought🎶

Semi: eyes off our girl creep

music teacher: 💭"she's pretty cute"

The Narrator who is shona then said

Narror: 🎶and she bit her lip back to him🎶

oikawa:Sis no don't do that you are giving the wrong idea

Narror:🎶Chewing on her nails and her pens while she's dreaming of him And he's fucking in sin 🎶

I was thinking of my bfs and I don't know if my music teacher got the wrong idea or what he thought I was thinking of him but allmy mind and songs about my bfs

semi:Aww songbird

Keiji:Darling that is cute

Sho:🗣️you know he is he said

the teacher : 🎶"It's for all the right reasons Baby, don't care 'bout grades, just call me yours baby If I help you with your music, will you give me your babies Don't call me crazy 🎶

Narror:💬 don't call him exactly what he is crazy psycho come on me snap out of that trance and Decline that bullshit it's illegal and immoral he could and should lose his job he is grooming a minor come on me you aren’t that dense

The next line is too her Bfs before she turns to the Teacher and speaks to him

Sho: 🎶You love me, but you won't come save me🎶

Semi: we will

Akaashi: we are where are you

Sho:🎶You got a wife and kids, you see them daily Don't know why you even need me"🎶

Tooru: i am going to have fun sending your misses this video im sure sure she would love to see how you manipulate and groomed

Sho turned to the teacher like she wanted anwsers here and now as she sang

Sho:🎶Teacher's pet If I'm so special, why am I secret? Yeah, why the fuck is that?🎶

The teacher: honey love doll you are special

Sho:🙄 🎶Do you regret The things we shared that I'll never forget? Well, do you? Tell me that I know I'm young, but my mind is well beyond my years I knew this wouldn't last, but fuck you, don't you leave me here Teacher's pet If I'm so special, why am I secret?🎶

The teacher: sugar pie it's like you said i am married still and if i wasn't you know i would be all yours

Sho:✋🏻❌️🧏‍♂️ 🎶Gimme back my money Didn't learn a damn thing, honey, from you Except how to lie and cheat while inside the sheets🎶

Akaashi:😃

Semi: yes officer this one right here☝🏻

Narrator and Sho;🎶Stop calling me your bunny I won't hop and you don't own me Do you? I bet you think you do, well, you don't🎶

Warning ahead inappropriate actions and scenes

Narrator:💬 so I went back to his office because he said he can give me extra tutoring Yeah fucking right

They watch the sceen with sho play out they can see ger pull out her work and he is making her up a drink they also saw him adding something to it

Semi: @unknown what did that teacher add to her drink

Unknown online

Unknown: it is a date-R@pe drug

Tooru:WHAT?! sis what ever you do don't drink that

They watched as she smiled at him and took the drink and he was explaining the music and where to put her fingers and what order to play the keys The more they play the song the more the GC can see Sho become more Lucid and fall under the the drug as the teacher saw this he advanced on her and started to to strip her as well as himself

Narrator:🎶Teacher's pet If I'm so special, why am I secret? (Why am I? Why am I?) Yeah, why the fuck is that? Do you regret The things we shared that I'll never forget? Well, do you? Tell me that🎶

They he kept touching her inappropriately making her feel more and more weirded out and gross

Sho:🎶know I'm young, but my mind is well beyond my years I knew this wouldn't last, but fuck you, don't you leave me here Teacher's pet If I'm so special, why am I secret?🎶

She was so out of it to the points she passed out while this was going on Oikawa sent this video to his wife and she went to his office and saw everything even Shona in a venerable state she called the cops on her husband and got him done while they got sho to the hospital

Reporter: respected and renouned music teacher has been arrested for sexual assault and Grooming a minor his 16 year old student is now in hospital getting checked over for any existential and internal injuries the Wife of the music teacher is looking to file for Divorce after learning what he has been doing with his student if you were his Victim please come forward Thank you for watching see you next time

Tooru semi and keiji turned off the tv while sho was a sleep

Semi: he is where he deserves to be

Both Keiji and Tooru agree they hope their Sister/Girlfriend health and improve and she won't run into anymore upset

[takalzuoom]

rejected god darling in the fatui au!

where god reader is now gathering the 3 harbingers (childe, scaramouche and la signora) to the tsartia’s throne room.

they all just stare in bewilderment as the divine one. the one that created Tevyat. the one that the tsartia, their goddes, worships. is on the ground, kneeling as they apologize.

they apologize for giving la signora a horrible past, one a woman like her never deserved.

for giving childe no real childhood. how he had to grow up so fast and how he was practically cursed by the abyss with foul legacy being a double sided sword.

and to scaramouche, for letting ei do those things while they were away.

they don’t know how to react. maybe la signora is angry. mentally saying that ‘you can’t apologize for what you’ve already done. you’ve ruined my life by giving me this life. i don’t care if you’re the creator. you should’ve created a different path for me as i never asked for this one.’

maybe childe is conflicted. cause yeah, he had to grow up to help his family. and while he got unimaginable powers from the abyss he also feels his life shortness after FL. but he loves his family. and loves the tsartia… so he’s not sure how to feel about this.

and scaramouche… he’s the hardest to read as he’ll be cocky. saying how ‘he doesn’t need your pity and he’s just a prototype gone wrong. how there was no saving him from a fate worse than death’

maybe he’ll get some sick kicks from a higher being, more so than the tsaritsa. was bowing down before him. the creator, the divine one, the almighty- who whims life and death is begging for his- a mere defective prototype- now fatui harbinger’s forgiveness.

cause after all, yeah, you were right. it was all your fault. it’s you fault he’s where he is now. ‘ how good could this get??’ he would say as he holds back a smirk

but the tsaritsa and the rest of that fatui that was gathered are in utter shock as you- the almighty creator. are apologizing for assigning them their fates? the paths that they’re destined to walk on.

the tsaritsa is confused. horribly so as she would most likely start to question you as you ramble about how you were away for the past 200 years (2 weeks) and didn’t know that everything was going to be like this.

but a part of me really wants to say that she’ll love how in tune you are with her soldiers. how you care for them that much that you’ll disgrace your godly status just to apologize for trauma you gave them.

but you would definitely try to favor them more. showing them that you loved them and that you’re sorry. it’ll make people start to wonder who’s worshipping who.

( if they were loyal devotees and loved you to death* then they would definitely take advantage of this)

* like maybe before everything happened to la signora, she didn’t really believe in you. calling you stupid and illogical ( when their lands are literally made by archons ) and she either got angry at you or start worshiping you like crazy after everything happened. to not get in your bad side and to show that she’s faithful.

or maybe childe growing up in a religious household (mix between you and the tsartia) and having big faith in the both of you. and when he gets his FL form then he starts saying how this was a test of his faith and that you had chosen him. and that he was to now carry out your and the tsartia’s will as his own to show how grateful he is for the gift. (if you thought he was border line yandere before just wait now)

or maybe scaramouche despising you as ei always paid attention to you, worshipped you, talked about about you. never giving him the light of day. and when he showed how he didn’t like you she kicked him out. claiming it was ‘the final straw, and that he’s pearly defected if he doesn’t love and worship the creator like she does.

and he just grows to resent you because you were the reason he was thrown out. you were all the cause to all his problems. it was. all. your. fault.

i mean honestly. it wasn’t your fault at all. it was mihoyo’s- but they won’t understand that. so with all the empathy in your heart. you truthfully apologize. the tsartia herself moaning about how you were such a kind, and endearing god. how you are their god as she stroked you head comfortingly. you sniffling into her furs as she gives them a dark look they understand all too well.

later, in the meeting with the tsartia she tells them to use this to their advantage.

to use your guilt to… secure you to snezhnaya.

maybe they do actually forgive you. maybe they don’t. that’s all up to how you play your cards, and how they play theirs