#i am correct and prepared to defend everyone of these

[rescue-ram]

[sunnibits]

yes officer I know that he was one of the original tumblr sexymans in the olden days and I know that hundreds of other people have been next-level obsessed with him for years and years and I know that he’s just a pawn of the evil cringe mcu but what you don’t understand is that he’s my most special skrunkly blorbo baby and nobody in the whole world is right about him except for me

[thesilmarillionblog]

𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u

Part:𝟷𝟺

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: Language, angst, PTSD, violence, suspense, hurt, Soldier Boy gets hurt,

Word Count: 4433

A/N: English is not my first language.

* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.

Whispering “Earving?” once more, you trailed him to shadowy spots where fewer people were present. Though you knew you would have to deal with this eventually, you couldn't help but feel uneasy about what lay ahead.

When he halted, you took care to keep your distance.

You walked up to him and asked, “Why are you not talking to me?” to let him know you weren't a threat and that all you wanted to do was communicate. “Did you know what happened to me?”

Your eyes widened in suspicion as he examined you from head to toe before you told him anything further. To your surprise, Earving lifted his hand and pulled his blades from his back in a menacing manner. 

Your heart was pounding as you whispered, “What the hell are you doing?” It also hurt you to see him preparing for a fight, and you shook your head in disbelief. “Don't you ever try it.” 

You immediately defended yourself with your fists when he struck you with his blades, as though he were going to cut your skin. Thank goodness for your training sessions with Ben; you were starting to feel a little better and in shape. 

Earving attacked your legs again, forced you to the ground, briefly restrained you, and attempted to strangle you. But you reclaimed your hands from his gloved ones, struck his masked head, and violently shoved him on the ground. 

You said, “The company lied to everyone,” before he struck you once more. I'm not a traitor." 

Even though you tried to persuade him that neither you nor the government were your enemies or vice versa, he didn't seem to be listening to you and kept attacking you even though he knew you were still stronger than him. 

You shoved his head hard against the wall in front of you, forcing him to think straight. “I'm not blaming you for what happened,” you blurted out. “I just want you to know I'm still your friend. I understand your reasons about why you didn't visit me or try to save me.” 

After you hit his head against the wall a few times, he managed to break free from your hold and push you back until your back cracked the wall and made a hole in it. 

“What the hell, Earving?” Your t-shirt tore from your stomach to your chest as you screamed at him in aggravation. “You must hear what I'm telling you because I am speaking the truth. Vought lied about me to you and to everyone else, and they studied my body for decades in a lab to make the next supe generation better, to make it perfect.”

You said, “For God's sake,” fighting back tears as you were overcome by all that had transpired so quickly. Your hands balled into fists as you prepared for yet another blow. “If you attack me again, I swear I'm going to leave a huge amount of fucking damage on you.”

When his phone started ringing, Earving saw your rage rising and plunged his blades into his back once more. Before you could even respond, he vanished into the darkness once more. 

After you hurried back to the van without drawing attention from civilians, Frenchie noticed your torn t-shirt and messy hair and wrapped his hands around his head, practically yelling, “Mon Dieu, where did you go? What on earth happened to you?”

After sitting down next to him and seeing the screen in front of you, you muttered, “Nothing,” as you looked around for Kimiko. 

“Clearly, it's not just 'nothing.' Have you been spotted by anyone? Have you had a fight?” 

“No,” you instantly told a lie. You didn't know if this was the correct moment to discuss the actual events that transpired. 

Frenchie looked at you, her eyes narrowing. “You look like you've just had a fight,” he questioned. 

“I told you nothing happened,” you yelled angrily, feeling ashamed as the table beneath your hand began to crack. God. You were hopeless. But you remained outraged and wounded by everything that went on. Why would Earving even behave in such a manner? 

Frenchie placed his hands in the air and muttered, “Alright, alright,” in a calm but terrified voice. “I'm not going to ask any questions anymore.”

Though you chose to speak with him at a later time, you felt awful for using your position of power to frighten someone who was clearly weaker than you and was only attempting to carry out his own duties. 

With concern, you questioned, “Is Kimiko okay? I can help her if it's needed.”

“No,” Frenchie said, displaying his happy expression on the TV. “Pay attention to her remarkable speed and talent. Kimiko is a unique lady.”

Your eyes darted around the busy street, your super-hearing tuned in to every sound, and you continued to stare at the screen in front of you. Memories of your surprise altercation with your former best friend flashed across your memory. Why would he ever attack you like he actually wanted to kill you? Was Ben correct when he said Earving was only loyal to Vought and no one else? 

It was painful that, despite everyone's lack of loyalty toward you, you continued to show loyalty to those who had previously betrayed you and stabbed you in the back. You couldn't decide if you or they had a problem. Either you were difficult to understand, or it was simply difficult to love you. 

“She's done,” Frenchie remarked as he opened the door and prepared to go. Kimiko gave him a quick shoulder pat. 

“Let's fucking go.” 

It would be better if you called Ben at home. 

Ben's footsteps sped up to Herogasm as his eyes looked for TNT Twins. You were quite correct to despise this accursed and abnormal place. He was very into public sex, threesomes, gangbang while high, and all things associated, so he had enjoyed the twisted notion when he found it with Stormfront Bitch, but now it seemed like a new room straight out of hell. God was fucking missing from this place. Even though he occasionally wanted to, at least he was relieved that he refrained from joining it while he was with you.

If he was being completely honest with himself, he was a little afraid of his own physical needs when Butcher told him they were going to Herogasm the day before since he hadn't fucked anyone since he was free. Besides, he wasn't used to taking himself in hand so frequently without fucking someone for so long, even if he jerked off like a fucking teenager two or three times a day. He felt much better, though, knowing that he had no feelings at all regarding anyone or anything related to Herogasm. 

At this point, Ben was positive he would never want to visit this absurd place again. But as soon as he could, he had to fuck you raw.

Ben can't argue that he felt much safer having faith in you about anything because he was aware of your unwavering devotion to him in spite of everything he had done.

After all, loyalty to him was the most important thing in a partnership, and two people being devoted to one another was sufficient for a lifetime of companionship.

He was still thinking about your exposed ass from your nightdress, remembering how you appeared on the bed this morning. He was surprised at how effortlessly, and without even trying, you could make him rock hard. Getting on top of you, ripping off your underwear, and sliding into your swollen cunt would be so fucking easy. But in reality, it wasn't that simple.

Feeling his hardness returning over your thought, Ben muttered, “Oh, fuck.” 

Ben scowled and picked up the smoke bomb that had suddenly been thrown between his legs, thinking it could help him become a little high or divert his attention. 

“Halothene,” he said, glancing at the man who had thrown it to him. “What were you going to do with that?” 

The man repositioned himself, bracing himself for combat. Ben took a step toward him and sighed. The man's heart was pounding uncontrollably. 

“Not him,” Butcher stated firmly. 

Ben immediately nodded to Butcher. Anyhow, he was not in the mood to murder someone who was weak. 

He took a deep breath and tried not to get furious when his eyes eventually spotted the TNT Twins. When Ben saw their eyes widen in fear, he grinned. They were obviously taken aback to see him again. 

“Soldier Boy,” they muttered in tandem as they looked to one another for the right words. “It was Noir's idea; you must know that.”

“Was it?” Ben inquired as he gently inched closer to them, his shield tightening around his hand. 

The woman answered, “Yes,” quite quickly. “And the Crimson Countess. They conspired to deceive Y/N and you as well.”

He said TNT Twins, “Noir can't even shit without Vought's permission,” after hearing your name. “Did you know that she spent decades in a lab having her body studied? Did you know that Vought intentionally deceived everyone?” 

The sister asked, “Why does it matter?” before the man spoke.”All we did was follow instructions. Not that we desired to, though.”

They were aware of it. Ben shut his eyes and inhaled deeply, careful not to blow this place up. “You two will speak up against Vought to the media, tell them what they did to me and Y/N, and tell me where the fuck is Mindstorm. You two will come with me and fucking fix what you have done. If not, I'm fucking going to kill you both.” Ben spoke in a ferocious manner, clearly threatening them. 

They cried out in shock, “Fuck no,” sounding as though they would sooner die than stand up to Vought anyway. 

They locked hands and prepared to strike him, acting as though they would only cause minor harm to his body. The Russians did their best to harm him; of course, none of them worked. Ben was in disbelief that he used to work with the world's most worthless and foolish superheroes. 

Ben's supe hearing was triggered by a Russian song played by another supe in a different room before he spoke. He attempted to contain himself, and his palm closed tightly around his shield and closed his eyes. 

But the enormous power that was beginning to emerge was much bigger than him at that precise moment because of the horrific memories from the lab he had spent decades confined to. Ben's final thought before blowing up the entire place was of you. He should never have come here without you.

Once you were in your room, you decided to give Ben a call after some time had passed. You were informed that the person you called could not be reached at that time. You threw the phone on your bed and yelled, “Asshole,” out of anger. 

The damage had already been done when Ben awoke. Fuck it. This time, he had made an extremely serious mistake. He was sure he'd be on the news tonight. 

A man across the room likewise appeared to have a strange cape when Butcher came to approach Ben. 

“Soldier Boy and William Butcher,” he murmured. Ben and Butcher exchanged looks. “Oh, god. You were behind this. This whole thing was your idea. William, we made a deal with you to fight to the death. You and me.”

Ben struggled to figure out what was going on between them as Butcher offered him a confident look. Homelander went on, “This is cheating. The deal is off.” 

Homelander's gaze lasered Butcher against the wall as soon as he finished his speech. Ben sighed after giving Butcher a quick glance. 

“You were my hero growing up; I have watched all your movies hundreds of times.” Ben offered Homelander a degrading grin as he spoke admiringly. The guy with the blonde hair had the worst suit ever. It was a shame.

“You were the only one who was as strong as me.”

“Buddy,” Ben said, not giving a damn about Homelander’s words at all. “You think you look strong? You’re wearing a cape. You’re just a cheap fucking knockoff.”

Homelander's jaw tightened, and his eyes grew enraged as Ben repeatedly insulted him. He was enraged hearing such stuff from the supe he idolized since he was a child.

“Oh, no, no,” Homelander responded without fear. “I’m the upgrade.”

When Homelander attacked, Soldier Boy started to punch him again and again, but Homelander was well-trained too; he was indeed as good as Ben in combat skills. He wasn't like the weak supes in Payback; Homelander was indeed built different. However, this didn't make Ben feel a thing at all. Homelander was just another supe who was just more than a bit easy to deal with. That's all. In fact, it would be a good training for Ben to warm up.

Ben briefly lost control of the momentum and gave Homelander the advantage as they continued to hit one another. Ben looked on in confusion as Butcher rose and then lasered Homelander as well. 

“What have you done?” Confused, Homelander murmured. 

Ben stood up, yanking Homelander by his useless cape and violently throwing him against the wall as he ascended in the air, and their lasered eyes engaged in combat. 

Following Homelander's escape, Butcher and Ben struck him simultaneously, shattering the wall behind them. 

Homelander tried to laser Hughie after he broke up the brawl in his nude form, but Hughie was too fast for him. 

Ben effortlessly grabbed Homelander by the arm and pushed him to the ground, keeping him there while Butcher and Hughie also helped him. 

Butcher yelled, “Do it,” as Ben attempted to go full force this time. 

Ben pushed himself to concentrate on the enormous power shining behind his chest, but for some reason he was unable to release it. His tendency to explode when he didn't mean to was annoying, but he couldn't use his new abilities when he needed them. Perhaps it was because, just moments before, he had already blown up. 

Homelander groaned like an animal under threat when he realized he was going to be slaughtered by them. With a single, fierce roar, he drove everyone from his body as he fled away. 

With a mumble of curses, Butcher turned to face the sky. 

Ben didn't give a fuck at all, even if he was eager to kill Homelander while he knew he had more pressing problems at hand. Murdering Homelander was easy to do. However, he had to seize control of the company and turn the tables as quickly as possible. 

Ben grabbed the phone out of his pocket to try to call you as he stood up and straightened his suit, but it didn't work. 

Ben growled, “Fuck this,” and turned to face Butcher. “Call Y/N right now.” 

Butcher said, “Give me some slack, for God's sake,” as he got up and brushed off the dust from his coat.

Ben snatched the phone from Butcher's hand as soon as it began ringing and gave him a cold glare while Hughie and he pleaded with him to get out of there. 

Ben, who was a little nervous, walked to the car quicker than Butcher and Hughie. 

Ben muttered, “Give me a fucking moment,” as Butcher and Hughie entered the vehicle and looked at him. 

It had only been an hour since you went to sleep when your phone rang. You answered it while you rubbed your eyes and exclaimed, “What?” 

You had cried uncontrollably because of what transpired between you and Earving, since you hadn't anticipated his treachery to be that severe and brutal. 

Ben said, “I guess I couldn't give you a call because my battery is dead. Are you now at home?” 

Your eyes widened with suspicion. “How unlucky!” you murmured in a sour tone. “And yes.”

“Something terrible happened,” he sighed. You were scared by the underlying fragility in his voice, which made you feel no longer sleepy. He whispered your name and continued, “I messed up badly.” 

Your heart raced, and you temporarily forgot about your own issues as you were anxious at hearing an unsettling and insecure tone in his voice. You prepared yourself to receive the worst news. “What did you do this time?” 

Ben's jaw tightened at your disappointed complaint. Even though he was making an effort, it had been a while since he had disappointed someone with such severity, making him feel like a total failure. Ben parted his lips to speak, but he truly had no idea what to say or how to convince you that he wouldn't let you down the next time. He knew that had become one of his professions nowadays. 

“Well, let's talk when I come home. We're going to head out, so I suppose I'll be there by morning.”

He immediately hung up the phone without waiting for you to say anything more. He was a little embarrassed by his unpredictable actions and wasn't sure how you would respond. In the meantime, he would be thinking about this. 

You sighed and attempted to return to sleep, but it took you an hour to put your issues aside and allow your ailing body to rest.

Instantly opening your eyes and got off the bed upon hearing a door close in the room next door, you realized it was Ben.

You knocked on his door and said, “Ben?” even though it was still open.

He turned to face you after putting his shield next to his bed and said, “You don't have to knock it. You are welcome to show up at any time, sweetie.”

Even if he was attempting to make jokes to rile you up, his tone was anything but funny and suggested that he was distressed.

You approached him and gently closed the door, asking, “Can we talk now?” 

He also approached you and gave you a hug after leaving his chest material on the table, preventing you from speaking. You let out a sound as his fingers gripped your back firmly, and his chest seemed warmer than before. You held back your hug, but you also didn't press for an answer in the hopes that he would calm himself down and tell you. 

You attempted to ignore his fingers as they moved over your body, but your chin lingered on his muscular shoulder. You were surprised that he wasn't trying to make sexual contact with you, and you wondered what had happened to make him act that way while you were apart. 

"I missed you," Ben said softly,

Ben has always hated to say things like this and felt like the helpless, weak men in the movies, but he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed since he knew you needed his help and he kept failing you repeatedly even though it wasn't his intention. Ben hesitated to admit that he needed you more than ever because he knew that if you had been there, you could have stopped him from using his freshly developed powers to explode and kill some people.

If he could simply kidnap the TNT Twins and make them speak negatively about the company, then that would also be a great opportunity for you. They would also provide him with information regarding Mindstorm, which can be beneficial in your case. 

His body stiffened as he breathed in your hair. 

He aggressively remarked, “You smell something different,” smelling you a little more forcefully this time. “Like someone I know.”

You put your arms around his biceps and murmured, “Quit smelling me and calm down,” as you didn't make him feel angry. He appeared as though he was about to lose it. “I'll tell you when you tell me about what happened in Herogasm.”

“I blew up the entire place.”

“Ben!” you said, pushing his hands aside as your shocked eyes grew wider. “Why?”

His voice was dry as he spoke hurriedly, “I didn't mean to.” While you waited for him to continue, Ben looked around and considered how to explain everything. He then remarked, “It's... the same thing happened in Midtown. I was speaking with TNT Twins about Vought and attempting to persuade them to voice against it.”

His eyes went dark, as if he was uncomfortable and didn't want to continue. 

You placed a hand on his chest when you noticed he was having trouble with his inner thoughts, in an attempt to calm him down and encourage him to speak. You said, “And?” gently. 

“I heard a Russian song,” he furiously and unsettlingly declared. Placing his hand over yours to make sure you understood, he added, “I guess it's kind of a triggering thing for this thing to get activated.”

He interrupted you right away before you could say anything, saying, “I really tried to stop it. I did not mean to disappoint you or mess things up like this. Not at this particular moment.”

You muttered, “Don't worry about that. It wouldn't be the first time.”

“Yeah.” He gave you a small smile to lighten the situation and murmured to you, as if he were also trying to suppress the anger in your voice since he understood you had every right to speak in that manner. “However, I will speak with Butcher and ask him to locate Mindstorm as soon as possible in order to resolve your problem. Perhaps I might want to amend our agreement regarding Homelander.”

You muttered, “I don't know, Ben,” at a loss for what to do. “It's becoming uncontrollable. Tonight, everyone will be talking about you once more. First, we must figure out how to clean up this mess.”

He immediately raised his voice and said, “Fuck them,” not wanting to think about Vought or the media at all. “You do not think of such things. I'll soon have things under control. The first thing we need to solve is your situation about your powers, okay?”

“But why?” 

“Because you come first,” he stated with a serious attitude. 

Your cheeks heated a little under his focused look, and you retrieved your hands from him before heading to his bed and sitting to put an end to the intense moment. 

As you settled onto his bed, Ben's eyes narrowed, and he started thinking inappropriate things. You need to have spent the entire day and night beneath him, getting as much fuck as you both needed to make you tremble around his cock. 

As he began to remove his suit, including his pants, you were thinking about how to talk to him about yourself and Earving without irritating him. Ben didn't seem to care that you were in the room or that you were staring at him while he got undressed. 

He was putting on his gray sweatpants, and you were looking for a t-shirt when all of a sudden you stated, “I fought Noir.” 

“What the hell?”

He sat on the bed next to you and swiftly turned to face you. “When did this happen? How in the world did this son of a bitch track you?”

You murmured, “Calm,” as you noticed his veins starting to show. “Frenchie and I were in the van, and Kimiko had something to do. At that moment, I noticed him watching me from across the street.”

“Fuck, I knew from the way you smelt that bitter, like get into my nerves.” He questioned, without you even finishing your sentence, “And?”

You sighed as you noticed his growing impatience. “I wanted to talk to him, so I followed him until he stopped. I suppose I was naive.” 

Even though you were feeling vulnerable just now, you went on. “He didn't say a thing at all, and I don't know why, but he attacked me.”

“Fucking betraying son of a bitch, I should have murdered him when I had the chance.” Ben's hands were fisted on the bed, and his mind was racing with ideas as he growled with fury. “Did he do something to you?”

“Of course not,” you said with a sorrowful inner smile. “He would never be able to hurt me, even if he tried a hundred times.”

You winked at Ben, and he laughed. It gave you some relief to watch him become more relaxed. 

Playfully, he asked, “You're a fierce thing, aren't you?”

“Sometimes,” you replied with a smug grin. Ben noticed that you looked sad, and that's when your thoughts of Earving flashed across your mind. 

“Hey,” he murmured. “Stop worrying about that cunning cocksucker. You see, he was always a puppet of Stan Edgar and Vought. It has nothing to do with you. This won't ever, ever change.”

With a nod, you examined his bedroom and replied, “Yeah, I can see it clearly now.”

He cleared his throat. “You know, you can sleep in here whenever you want. You see, my bed is pretty bigger than yours, obviously more comfortable.” 

You arched an eyebrow suspiciously and asked, “Are you thinking funny things?”

“It's something I would never dare do,” he grinned. 

When he mentioned sleeping, you couldn't stop yawning and felt your body preparing to go back to sleep. You were aware that he wouldn't touch you without your consent, following what transpired between you. 

You rested your head on one of the pillows and mumbled, “Ben,” your eyes nearly closing from sudden exhaustion. “Can we continue training tomorrow?” 

“Of course, sweetheart.”

⋆⋅☆⋆☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋆☆⋅⋆

Ben felt his heart soften so much at the sight of you sleeping off in his bed that he felt as though he could soon lose his mind. It had only dawned on him that he needed to pay attention to such a minor thing. The amount of control you had over him when he awoke from decades of sleep was insane. Perhaps he had been blind and sleeping for a lot longer than he realized.

Next Chapter

A/N: I hope I didn’t fuck up this chapter, lol..And I know it is kind of slow, but I don’t want to rush things, since the reader went through a lot. Comments and reblogs are appreciated very much.  They keep me going. ♡˚.

Taglist: @mostlymarvelgirl @xmariakx @spnfamily-j2 @suspicious-stain-in-spain @atomicsoulcollecto @yvonneeeb @starryperson @mfnqueen1 @chaand-sitara @boywivlove @stilinskisthings @brynanna @delaynew @yoyoanaria @n-o-p-e-never @ghostslillady

@certifiedhaters @deans-spinster-witch @demodemo909 @stoneyggirl @cheynovak @libby99hb @moneyburner @jenn-777q @hey-there0-0  @purplerosequartz @shadowghoul2525 @darkqueen1995 @simpin4pixels @deebris @spideybv28 @mystic-mara @tranquilty @winchesterwild78

Let me know if you want to be tagged in this series. ♡˚.

Losing You series Masterlist is here.

[caputvulpinum]

Hey! Please correct me if I'm wrong, but you seem like you actually know things about wend*gos and I genuinely want to have a better understanding.

Based on my limited understanding, the association with deer and wend*gos is more of a pop culture thing and the original concept of wend*gos arent like that at all. They're regular humans who got cursed for being cannibals, right?

Dont get me wrong, youre completely right in saying that people need to stop associating deer imagery with cannibalism as pop culture doesnt erase appropriation, but am I at least right on the history?

No pressure to answer if you dont want to, thanks for taking time to read this regardless.

Alright, it's been a while since I've spoken about the winter hunger so it's time for the perennial disclaimer: I am not Anishinaabe, and I cannot be considered a true authority on their practices and beliefs. Native America is, after all, not a monolith, and I can only speak for what I know through research and seeking to learn about this topic in order to be more respectful of them and advocate for that respect due to my audience's size.

With that said: You're correct. There is absolutely no deer imagery aligned with the Anishinaabe culture's portrayals and understanding of the being in question. I'm not 100% sure on its origins, but I'd be willing to bet that much of the inspiration would come from the Witcher 3's depictions of leshy--they click all of the buttons through visual language, and I can see why people would see that sort of iconography and begin applying it disrespectfully. Like I keep saying--fucked up deers are cool and spooky as hell! It's not a shock that through law-of-large-numbers and a history of oppression and thievery that the horror genre can often be anti-indigenous bc of that!

For clarification of the most commonly understood appearance of the winter hunger--and this is not so that you can more accurately use it, it is so you can more accurately defend against racist and inaccurate depictions--it takes the shape of humans. Often of people you know. There are sometimes qualifiers like frostbite or lack of feet but at the very root of it, it is supposed to look like a human being.

Further disclaimer: What I'm about to say may be an entirely wrong interpretation of the winter hunger, but it is rooted in my culture's understanding of a very similar evil being which exists in Dine and other desert-dwelling native tribes such as mine. It's further rooted in my specific understanding of religion through anthropological lenses, since that's why I love studying religion so much--because it doesn't exist in a vacuum it is defined by our understanding of our surroundings.

Picture it this way: Both the Anishinaabe and my own people are in some way considered extremophilic cultures. We both live in an environment which reliably becomes lethally dangerous to exist within if you aren't prepared, willing to sacrifice your own comfort for the survival of everyone, and combines a level of isolation during those extreme climates with a need to be able to trust those around you implicitly because you all want to survive. Deserts, be they snow or sand, are difficult places to live within. There are enough resources to go around, but it's not exactly uncommon for there to be enough to go around and that's all. You're surviving because you and everyone around you are putting the survival of everyone over individualist comforts.

The winter hunger and the desert swallowing you whole are always taught as something which looks like a human. Which sounds like a human. Which can trick others into thinking it is human. Beings which have the shape of a person, but have no humanity--they lost it or they never had it. And both of them are things which gain power over you when spoken of and thought of--they're a type of memetophage. They feed on people who know about them, so you're forced to balance "aware that this danger exists" with "need to know what the danger is". They often will try and trick you into evil deeds or danger yourself by wearing the face and voice of family and loved ones. People you know well to let your guard down.

Now remember that you are a culture which needs to prepare itself for extreme climate survival. Everyone has to rely on everyone else. But sometimes people aren't going to like the people they're surviving with. People will resent other people for whatever reasons they choose, justified or not. Living so close together and in such tight quarters can be stressful and bring out the absolute worst in us.

Imagine, for a moment, going out into a snowstorm or the bitter desert night, looking for food for everyone else, sent with someone you hate. It's a harsh life. Even at your safest you are at risk of death for whatever reason--getting lost, being attacked by an animal, taking a bad fall. It happens. It's a fact of life. It's horribly tragic but it's acknowledged as inevitable.

Imagine the knowledge of how dangerous what you two are doing worming its way into your head during this time. If you were willing to hate this person enough to kill them...it wouldn't be hard to convince everyone it was just an accident. Just something which happens. Kill a stag, then kill them and jam the stag's antlers through the wound. Or just disable them somehow and leave them to freeze in the snowdrifts and say they got lost. Or push them down a ravine. There are so many possibilities and all of them exonerate you of any complicity, because yeah, you didn't like them...

...but you trust each other to survive. You trust that you're all willing to give up things to make sure everyone is able to survive and get through these things. You trust that when you are in danger, you don't need to worry about it coming from someone you know. And so why would anyone suspect you? And maybe you convince yourself that what you did was good, actually. One less mouth to feed. More food for everyone. Or it's just easier for you--someone who you hated so much, and now you never need to worry about them again.

Imagine the way that knowledge that you've done it once would show up again and again. Anyone and everyone is now in danger because you've become aware of the benefits of being greedy. Of choosing to hurt and kill other people to further your own goals and desires. Of deciding that the sacrosanct ties of the whole community's survival is not a priority over your own violent impulses. The knowledge of what you can do to other people is, itself, a danger. You put the idea of it, the possibility, in someone's head, and there is every chance that it could start dwelling in there and taking root, changing them from a good person, someone you know, a member of the community, into an evil, selfish monster which has lost its humanity and merely wears that person's face. Uses its voice to lie to you. Wants you all to have your guards down around it. Something waiting to strike where it can.

Now remember that we turn rainbows into the bridges of gods because we needed to create a reason for them. That's the history of magic: we don't know how to explain something, or we don't know how to process it, or we do and need to obfuscate that knowledge through a layer of fiction to cope with it. We don't invent the divine for no reason, on instinct, without thinking. We do it because there is something that creating it offers us as a species and culture that would otherwise be lacked. So think: Why would tribal cultures who need everyone to be willing to set aside personal wants and grievances to ensure that everyone survives through harsh climates need to have something like the winter hunger or the desert swallowing you whole? What benefit does it offer the community? What is the purpose of sharing knowledge about this monster? Where would it fit into that culture's way of life and philosophies?

The answer becomes self-evident soon enough. We all know what it looks like when one person decides they can sacrifice other humans for their own personal greed. We call them oligarchs.

[babygirlbites]

Wolves and their star signs

Hello my little cherubs - how are we doing ? I hope we are doing well

Are we pretending I haven’t been gone for years? Absolutely!

Anyway, let’s talk star signs real quick. None of this is based on canon birthdays, I’m simply beyond Stephanie and her knowledge of her own characters.

These are MY opinions, which are fact as I am factually never wrong. However you are welcome to discuss

Jacob is a Leo; bold, stubborn, natural born leader. this man has main characteritis for sure. I’ve never met a Leo man who didn’t think he was always correct and was so headstrong about it, even when being actively proven wrong. I feel like Jake could wake up one morning and decide the sky is red and anyone who disagreed or god forbid brought factual evidence to him that disproved this would be ignored AND judged. However, Leo’s are loyal (to a fault, often) so although he’s headstrong he’s a ride or die for sure. If he likes you he is going to defend you against anything (excluding himself though because remember, he’s always right) and if he LOVES YOU pfft, I wouldn’t be messing with a Leo’s lover that’s for sure.

Sam is a Pisces; emotional, calm, strong willed. ugh, where do i start. Pisces are so emotional, which may seem like a good thing but I promise you those Pisces men can and will use this to manipulate, gaslight and gatekeep. He’s artistic though, and generally a reliable gent, but sometimes he can be a real nasty little man. He’s sly about his anger, he isn’t a shouting/agressive man at all, he would never DREAM of hurting you (the Emily situation will not repeat) but he can make you feel like shit emotionally. Pisces are just too clever idk I don’t mean to slander you all but as an aqua woman yous are real difficult

Embry is an Aquarius; Creative, smart, thinks outside the box, independent . He’s sensitive, but only when he’s close enough to you to allow you too see that. Aqua knows aqua, I know this boy would be super hard to get into the inner circle of. Sure, he’s openly friendly to everyone, but only the small few that HE allows close will see the real him. Once you do though, he’s an open book, belly laughing at your shitty dad jokes and ugly crying at pet rehoming tiktoks on his fyp.

Paul is a Gemini; loud, fun, and maybe a bit toxic. now I did debate aries for Paul but I just think he’s an air sign through and through. Sure, he’s firey as hell, but he’s so charming and no Aries has that level of rizz (sorry guys but the truth hurts sometimes). He’s a player through and through, he’s got a contacts list full of girls under code names like “girl from Seattle” or “drives a Honda” - which the feminist in me has an issue with but I can’t lie I love a Gemini. They are feral, and as long as you can prepare for that, then they will be the most fun you ever have. Just don’t get attached, or do, I can’t tell you what to do!

Jared is a libra; fun, lighthearted and emotionally wrecked. I love libras but damn do you guys wear your hearts on your sleeves! You’re so easily hurt, and you’ve BEEN hurt, and guess what? You’ll get hurt again. I feel like Jared’s the kind of guy to get played by the same girl/guy multiple times but still tell everyone they are his “twin flame”. Please treat this boy right - I don’t know if he can take the heartbreak (he can, and it will NOT put him off)

Quil is a cancer; he’s soft, he’s loving and he’s emotionally enlightened! We love a cancer in this house, emotional like a Pisces but open like a libra, a cancer is the right mix of mature and fun. They are sweet and sensitive and if any star sign is going to be an empath, it’s cancer. I feel like quil is the guy you go too when you’ve just found out something awful - all the guys would be there for you but where Paul or Jake or Sam even would blow a gasket and leave you alone while then went out on a rampage to hurt whomever was unlucky enough to hurt the one they love, Quil would take you in, cook for you and listen to whatever you had to say. Of course, he’s angry someone has upset you, but he’s more bothered that you are okay then that they aren’t. He’s a good guy, that’s all.

Leah is a Taurus; strong willed, well routed and stubborn. She’s practical, she’s gonna tell you straight up what she thinks with no filter, and sometimes that can hurt. She’s not the biggest personality in the room or the loudest voice at the party but she’s straight to the point and not afraid to be heard when she sees fit. She’s fun too, when she wants to be and with whom she wants to be. Under all of this though she’s family centred; she will kill for her family (and found family).

Seth is a Virgo; bold, grounded but enchanting. Virgos have a way of capturing a whole room without even having to try, they aren’t brash or loud but they are just so vibrant man idk! There’s something about them. Anyway I think Seth is just a lovely sunshine character, he’s deffo got cancer in his big three too, maybe his moon, but the Virgo energy is there for me. He’s the fun earth sign and he’s not gonna let you forget it

[puckpocketed]

caps fan here!

as follower of pld (the few, the proud, the courageous!), i was wondering if you had any thoughts about how he might fit in with our team, assuming he's going to be 1C with Ovi on the left and one of Wilson or Mangiapane on the right, and basically taking the former Kuznetsov/Backstrom spot on the halfwall on PP1. my thinking is that he can easily return to being a 60 point player just by the increase in ice time alone this coming season, and maybe even flirt with 70 if he has a triggerman like big O on his wing.

as someone who knows a hell of a lot more about PLD than i do, is that just wishful thinking because i'm a caps fan? what do you think?

The PLD Post, Part 2: mask-OFF

Hii!! (we are SO brave and SO correct). i am so sorry this took ages to answer, i was trying to decide how serious to be. I will admit, I was hesitant about going mask-off and hitting up the microstats and revealing that i do seriously think he can be better than he was bc that shit is kinda lame ESPECIALLY when defending a clear failhorse. but at this point any rep i have as someone with good opinions must be gone considering how many media scapegoats i've attached myself to (i got a fucking. c.gauthier ask the other day aslkjdkljas) so. mask is coming off. we've hit somewhere between well-considered manifesto and vibe check so . um. enjoy!!

I remain optimistic going from everything I've heard and from what you're saying here! But, big big asterisk. He absolutely needs to take ownership of his lack of engagement. when he speaks in media availability I believe him when he says he wants to change. The will to change is there, idk if it’s possible that any player would be satisfied with their performance being the way his was. There’s a lot that needs to be unpacked about his lack of production, the Character Issues, and what his role might look like going forward. You and any other Caps fan who reads this will have to tell me if the fit is right. Hockey talk below the cut lol!!

So before I start I have to say I know dick all about the Caps except:

You're dragging that old man (Ovechkin) to Gretzky's lawn (record) to set it on fire (break it before he retires)

Everyone is pining away for your very very injured 1C who is also Ovechkin's boybestfriend/perfect set-up guy/work wife

There's. intricate pre-game rituals?

So I'm not sure I can speak to how he will fit with your (our? i AM picking the Caps up fr given every acquisition/draft pick they've made) team with any depth or specificity. also i don't think i'd call myself a PLD expert. like. i just got here !! I haven't been following him since he was drafted or anything!! I have, however, consumed TOO MANY Kings games this past season and I can give you a broad look at what actually happened with them and why I think it didn't work out. I will not be making any overtures about being unbiased. My biases WILL slip through because I think Dubois is a sweetheart and I find the mental exercise of defending him fun <3 I’ll give you stats and observations and I will build a story that runs counter to what the prevailing media narratives say. While I stand by my opinions, they're also just one of many available interpretations of what happened.

character concerns

Everyone will be bringing it up at the first speed bump of the season, the first bad game he has. Please be prepared to have a crisis of faith and also be deeply disappointed in him. god knows I am, like, all the time <3 But... I always want to dig deeper when it comes to dominant narratives, because in following multiple teams I’ve become acutely aware of just how miserably Bad media can be at reporting on teams that aren’t their own.

I hear “Locker room cancer” accusations bandied about and I’ve yet to see anyone produce a primary source for this — podcasters, journalists, even people on nhl broadcasts will throw these words around so casually, assuming they’re correct because everyone knows the story. Some confounding factors in the character narratives arise when you scratch the surface. People who've worked with him speak well enough of him. Todd McLellan called him “misunderstood”, and had nothing bad to say about his character.

Matt Roy, who also just got picked up by the Caps, has recently said he’s a great teammate. MORE proof if you want to hear it directly, Roy went on Dropping The Gloves and had this to say about Dubois (transcript by me):

[on what actually happened] Honestly, I don’t know. I mean if you asked him he would say he had a down year. But it’s nothing like — I feel like the media paints this picture of him, and to me it couldn’t be further from the truth, you know. He’s a great teammate, he’s a great locker room guy, he gets along with everybody. So, in terms of all that I don’t know where the media is getting all this stuff. If I hated the guy I probably wouldn’t have come to Washington. He’s one of my friends on the team and I really think he’s going to have a bounce back year. I think he’s really going to be good for the team.

Matt Roy signed with the Caps of his own free will as an RD, a contested free agent in a sparse market, knowing Dubois was already here. He could’ve gone to plenty of different places. Why the hell would Roy sign here long-term, clearly wanting to play and win, if Dubois was as disliked as some pundits would have us believe??? Credible reports (and not just speculation) point to PLD’s other teammates liking him!! 

And here’s some propaganda; I direct you to this extremely sweet video where he gets asked about assisting on Akil Thomas' first NHL goal (and a bunch of other first NHL goals). He is so, so genuinely happy for Akil, who battled through injuries that set back his development for years. Just LOOK at his smile!! He can’t hold it back. (Others have said this but it looks like a little v. Like :> !!!! HELLO !!)

How does all of this happen when, supposedly, he’s a low-character asshole and a “locker room cancer”? It doesn’t line up for me.

On the other hand, I have seen Dubois cruise. He really can’t seem to bounce back from a poor start, and if you were just looking from the outside in, the scoresheet this year reflects this. The critique is fair; I’ve turned this over in my head enough times. there are less physically gifted, less skilled players, who are working so hard to stay in this league, and Dubois’ poor showing does feel somewhat like, idk, something I’d be mad about usually.

Here comes the “but”. Call this next bit the narrative section, because I’m showing my ass here: I think Dubois gets a lot of scrutiny because of his infamous Shift, which went a specific kind of viral, under the exact right conditions, and it has just. defined his career. And okay… I am not denying that the shift happened, but plenty of guys in this league have taken shifts off. come on. the season is long and they're only human. I’m not excusing it either! It was bad and he deserved his benching. Ideally, he one day becomes a player who always puts effort in. Working hard is one of my favourite traits in any player, and usually this would be enough for me to dismiss him as not worth being invested in.

and yet…. the reactions to his floundering performance feel so much like they’re about expectations as seen through the lens of The Shift. They’re calibrated differently because he went 3rd overall, and he's got this big body, the speed, the skill — it's the fact that he's got the tools and seemingly squanders them. All of this is amplified by the contract he's sitting on and his run of short-term stays on teams. Does he get this much scrutiny if he went in the 2nd or 3rd round? Does he catch this much heat for his low energy performance if that one shift clip hadn’t done all that damage? We’ll never know obviously but . I do wonder.

Final word on the character stuff is that we don’t know what truly went on in those locker rooms and i don't want to give more air time to baseless speculation. What we can examine is the hockey. The hockey tells the truth <3

the 23-24 la kings

Assuming the plan is to give PLD a look at 1/2C while he’s on the Caps, I think he’s a complementary type of player. The way he is right now, I don't think he can drive his own line or pull people up. He works with the calibre of lineys he's got and will produce the expected outcome. That sounds so obvious, but what I’m saying is I don’t think he’s capable of miracles like the best playmakers in the league, he's not about to make your guys look 15 years younger. In this vein, I look at his many first NHL goal assists as a symptom of what kind of linemates he was being paired with all season, and how unstable the situation was. His drop in point production IS more complicated than "he's just a piece of shit". From this article, the best summary I've seen of the Situation PLD was in:

LA acquired a player who had been a top-six center (and at times, winger) his entire career playing with established NHL talent. Yet after investing multiple assets to acquire Dubois and sign him to a significant contract, the team decided to put him in a third-line role where his most common linemate was a first-year NHL player who wasn’t expected to be on the roster in Alex Laferriere. Those two had a revolving door of wingers throughout the season. Moreover, Dubois’ most common on-ice teammates after Laferriere at 5-on-5 this season were Matt Roy and Andreas Englund. Gee, I wonder why he didn’t produce?

Context about Roy and Englund: Roy is a quiet but capable d-man who is defensively geared with a bit of offensive upside (j'adore. does things the right way and is very responsible and good. will throw hits but doesn't chase them or headhunt. I think playing away from the Kings’ more passive system will unlock more of his offensive potential. Matt Roy you will be SO good for the Caps I truly believe mwah mwah); and Englund is a leg weight/goon who, going by every single stat I can pull out, makes his d-partners Worse (with affection <3). Point here is neither of them being on the ice was particularly conducive to a lot of scoring chances.

As I said in my previous post, I think Dubois absolutely needs finishers. At some point there was hype around his shot but I didn't see much of that at all on lak? Eye test says: he was unwilling to shoot, and when he did shoot it felt like there was low/no commitment, no power behind it. Comments on his shooting called him “too deferential” at different turns. That’s just an insulting way to say a guy likes to pass and I truly think it circles back to the expectations thing. Would there be anything wrong with him not being much of a shooter this past season if he was another player? (Can't we just say he passed a lot this season without bringing value judgement into it? leave my failhorse ALONE!!!! like must a man score goals ,can't he be very very sweet and happy for the rookies he assisted ? wailing about it forever.)

More fun stats from that same article:

#1 on lak for passes that led to high-danger scoring chances, and scoring chances in general <- again, not a miracle worker. did not have finishers who could capitalise on these chances. its so fucked up what they did to my failwife

one of the best on lak in actually carrying the puck into the o-zone. (another reason i quite liked watching him!! transition forwards my BELOVED) everything I've ever observed about him off the cuff holds true here: he draws penalties this way, because he's fast and when he's locked in he is pretty good for controlled zone entries <3

Dubois had a career high in even-strength assists per 60, this is all in spite of his weird linemate situation and his reduced TOI and the power play mess (more on this later). he might have been deferring, but I truly think the lack of stability + good finishers, and ice time held him back from being more productive.

jim hiller

Building off that last point: even worse on the stability front, which I did allude to in the initial PLD Post, was what happened when Jim Hiller took over. You must understand one of the first clues that we were working with a different animal of a head coach is he was NOT afraid to line shuffle, and shortly after he found short-term success with that, they started running 11 forwards and 7 defensemen (you can see where it started precisely if you scroll back in lak lb because you'll find ME yelling about it LMAO). This shortened forward bench resulted in mid-game line shuffling, as in it was uncertain as to who they would be playing with from shift to shift. Hiller is on record saying he thinks it was beneficial, per this article:

It’s all about getting his deep forward corps engaged in the game. That’s sometimes difficult if you’re running four full lines and there are penalty kill or power play opportunities that alter the flow of the lines. Especially for the group of forwards who don’t kill penalties – think Kevin Fiala, Viktor Arvidsson, Quinton Byfield, Pierre-Luc Dubois – it’s an opportunity to get them extra shifts and engage in the game. “Some of our other players who don’t penalty kill, you know they can lose the flow of the game, so they enjoy it more I know,” Hiller said of having 11 forwards in action. “We’ve talked about it a lot. We really just think for our team, the way it is right now, that gives us an advantage getting those players more ice time.”

(and ok sorry to go off about my gripes with how the kings are run but .They were doing this into playoffs. This article was written during playoffs. god. CARL GRUNDSTROM, WHO HAS NEVER NOT PLAYED HARD, PLAYED 25 SECONDS IN GAME 2. all this while they were trying to get people 'engaged'. Idk. Maybe it did work for some players. I wasn’t behind that bench. But sitting one of your most energetic and committed forwards during a series in which you’re trying to come back from being down several games was a CHOICE!!!! also like what if you didn't double-shift QB. what then. And we all know how that series ended. lak coaching/management i am beating you with a pillowcase stuffed with bricks . <3)

Much was made of the Hiller takeover. I liked it at the time. In his first couple of media availabilities post-TM, Hiller emphasised bringing back "fun" to the game for many of the players who were slumping — and a reportedly tense locker room during the big skid that lost McLellan his job. It was all very Ted Lasso of him. Hiller also introduced a new way to rate Dubois for his performance every night, separate from the scoresheet. I made jokes about PLD's very special star-chart, everyone who knew about it was making jokes about it. This merit system was tailored towards communicating with Dubois what he did and didn't do well, and while no one ever went into depth about it we do know a few things:

It measured things outside of +/-, goals and assists, and was likely a score out of 5 per metric.

One of the metrics was about hits/physicality, another one was likely ‘compete’ levels.

He alluded to being measured on penalties drawn?? Or something??

Anyway it sort of … worked?? The change in Dubois was pretty immediate, the moment he was given some clear direction to work in. He played some of his BEST games of the year in the wake of this change. He got involved physically, he was not losing steam, he was drawing tons of penalties because he’s huge and fast and has good hands and IF he puts his mind to it he can truly be a transition monster.

CUE THE LINE SHUFFLING… imo, much of the progress made seemed to be lost, and the rest is history.

NOT saying Dubois is free of fault here. Needing that extra motivation to get physically involved is kinda wild, and I understand why for some people it’s a bridge too far. EYE am here for the laffs though and it's really funny that the communication came in the form of super special individualised performance evaluations/a glorified sticker chart. This is why he’s my temperamental desert flower. Wilting violet. Soggy kitten. <3 and for the record I truly don’t think I’d care if he put up 40 points per szn for the rest of his career. I don’t care because he’s a sweetie and the Bit i do when defending him is too funny. I don’t think I’d care if everyone was right about him — I just don’t actually think they are.

the power play problem

So okay, as per part 1 (my last email <3) we know Dubois thrives net front. It’s where he scored a bunch of his goals on the Jets. Every stat and the eye test supports this. So how come Lak had him stationed on the half wall doing jackshit, if he was on the power play at all?? I will admit I drove myself half crazy studying power play structures and watching LA Kings games back before coming up with a garbled, half-formed idea about how LA runs their PP. I was going to attempt to explain it here — had to do with Kevin Fiala and Dubois being lefties and how that's just an awkward passing sitch — but it turns out more than one person has had this thought and MAN I love being validated by actual hockey people. I fully thought i was making shit up in my head for a good week or two, and was seriously considering scrapping this portion . but it’s SO important for contextualising the production drop, so here goes !!

As early as September 2023 there was a story published about PLD’s role on PP1 — a place where he certainly should’ve belonged as a top-6 guy with plenty of ppg’s under his belt. From this article, which explains the issue very very neatly, and much more eloquently than I could ever hope to:

The addition of Pierre-Luc Dubois was a big one this summer; at first glance, he should be a great addition to the power play. But when digging deeper, the Kings might struggle to fit him onto the top unit. Dubois played mostly as the net front player for the Winnipeg Jets last season, the role Gabriel Vilardi often played for the Kings last season. So, it’s an easy one-to-one switch in that spot, right? Not necessarily. Dubois has all the talents to be an effective net-front player. He has the size and strength to battle in front, with the skill to effectively pop down low and create chances. However, his handedness is a big problem for this role. The Kings run their power play primarily on the left side with Kevin Fiala — Anze Kopitar when Fiala is hurt — which necessitates a right shot down low. When a right shot player pops out on the left side, there’s an easy passing angle for the half-wall player and more options for the player down low. Quick passing is key for a successful power and a left-shot can’t move the puck quick enough down low. They would have to either move too far into the corner or take the extra second to step out from and open up their body to create an effective passing angle. Time that would slow the power play down too much and allow the opposition penalty kill to get back into position. There’s also minimal shot threat from a lefty down low. We saw both Vilardi and Viktor Arvidsson frequently take the pass down low and quickly turn it into a shooting opportunity, something a left shot wouldn’t be able to do.

It then goes on to suggest 2 solutions that aren’t appealing at all:

Flip the power play entirely to accommodate Dubois net front. Not great as they dont have the players for that, and if they tried it they’d be hamstringing Adrian Kempe’s one-timer.

PLD on the bumper position. This one’s hard to swallow because that displaces Kopitar to PP2, there’s his position as captain and the optics of moving him off his spot.

In this article it is once again suggested that LA MUST flip their power play and figure out how to get PLD net front. In this article they point out how useless he was playing on the wall down the stretch, and how the only reason he seemed to be able to produce something was because he’d taken Kopitar’s spot in his absence. This article calls to attention Dubois’ worlds performance, where team Canada utilised him net front.

Big picture, the Fit

Do we see the problem here yet? It’s not the flat narrative I was sold by the national media, random assholes on twitter, and podcasters who don’t actually watch Kings matches!!!! Do we see how weird and messy and complicated it is, beyond “hey he’s just a sack of shit who isn’t trying hard enough”. Rob Blake himself has come out and admitted that they didn’t put Dubois in a position to succeed. And absolutely there was effort required on his end — a different player might have sucked it up and adapted to circumstances, a different player might never have needed that extra bit of communication, a straight up better player might have dragged his less skilled lineys up to a higher level. But the problem has always been two-fold: LA was trying to coach and manage a completely different player to the one they had in front of them and expecting good results; and Dubois was unable to keep competing with all he had in the face of that. I think both parties are at fault here. And I think, given the chance and the right circumstances, Dubois can hit 60 points again.

Okay, circling back to the big question of Fit. Will he be able to work with Ovechkin? Hard to think he could fail with one of hockey’s best goal scorers on his wing, if he does get a look at 1C. People who know the Caps better than I do, does this sound workable? Is Dubois going to be too difficult of a nut to crack for your coach? Your locker room?

And, of course, the power play issue. Maybe Dubois learns to be better on the half wall! Idk!! Maybe it was a matter of coaching and he thrives in Washington running your PP1 from there. For my money… I like him better playing net front or bumper. Do the Caps have the bodies to accommodate this? I did ask someone familiar with the Caps PP to explain it to me so I could try and figure this out but ouuuugh. My head is spinning. Someone smarter than me please jump in. I am TIRED . We don’t know what it will look like, what they’re planning to do with Dubois on the power play. You guys probably have a better idea about what’s possible than I do <3

Conclusion?

PLD is fast, big, a passing threat and a formidable net front presence when he’s given the opportunity and playing his A-game. As far as I can tell, his B-game is garbage </3 His poor performance is more complicated than people think and I’m pretty sure only the LA Kings beat reporters + the 12 kings fans on twitter know this. Most of them still dislike PLD anyway bc his low motor. I don’t blame them, I’m just more inclined to be forgiving because I love redemption arcs and I think he’s a good person. i would love to be wrong about his low-effort B-game LMAO but im trying to be realistic here. I want him to fit in and be embraced by the Caps so bad <3 Your coach sounds like he wants to help PLD succeed and is up for the challenge. The vibes from my friends who follow the Caps are always good, I’ve read through various tags and it sounds like a place that will take him in whether he likes it or not. I might be stupid but I believe in him !!! and I’ve laid out all the hockey bullshit for you to the best of my ability. Given all of this… do you think he’ll do well?

[leighsartworks216]

I Come With Knives Pt6

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

(The other parts of this story are under the First BG3 Masterlist, or you can use the AO3 link to read it there)

This one is my problem child. I have no idea how to write for the other companions but I needed to have this as context for the companions learning about Tav's bg and yeah whatever I've got better stuff coming up. I am very very excited for future chapters >:)

Warnings: self-destructive coping mechanisms (scratching oneself), mentions of slavery, hints of a panic attack, mentions of emotional abuse, mentions of biting, possibly OOC companions

Word Count: 1,334

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

I Come With Knives Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Everyone eyed you warily. You didn’t blame them. After you scrubbed your hands raw of the blood staining them, you provided no explanation. You’d basically sped in, Astarion trailing behind, and ran for a bucket of water. And stayed there. For hours. After the fact, you changed out the water, of course, but they weren’t concerned as much with the pink-tinted water as they were with the frantic nature you scraped the natural dye from your hands.

Astarion didn’t say anything either. A few of them had tried asking, but he smiled tersely and made an excuse that changed each time. “I was too distracted fighting a beast.” “You know how some people get with germs.” “They really hate the color red.” (This one was not said to Karlach, nor in her earshot.) 

It all came to a head at dinner, when you’d still provided no explanation. Gale handed out servings silently, staring at you as though studying a new specimen. Lae’zel watched you like a predator trying to defend her territory, prepared for the moment the intruder stepped over the line. Shadowheart barely repressed her scowl.

Wyll set down his bowl pointedly. “Haven’t you kept your secrets hidden long enough?” You raise your eyes from your barely-touched stew. You didn’t quite see him. Your mind lingered on the image of the Gur. “Do you expect us to continue following blindly while we pour our souls out for you?”

You bristled. The image disappeared, tucked away to haunt you later. “No. No, I’m sorry.” You sighed and set your bowl aside. Everyone watched you expectantly, more interested in what you could say than filling their bellies. “It’s just… difficult to talk about.”

“Speak,” Lae’zel encourages roughly. “We will listen.”

Astarion frowns at you. He’s taken to sitting beside you for ‘dinner’. They knew by now he wasn’t suited to eating normal food, but he didn’t quite trust them not to stake him through the heart or cut his head off. It was safest to linger by your side. The irony of your trust in him was not lost on him: You understood him best and you feared him the most. That fear may have dampened over time, but you still flinched at the gleam of his fangs, watched him as he left camp to hunt at night. Yet you’d bared your soul to him and him alone. He couldn’t wrap his head around it.

You inhale, slow and shaky. Your hands fiddle in your lap, providing you some sort of distraction. It would not be enough to ground you to reality should the thoughts become too potent.

“I was… am,” you corrected unsurely, “a vampire’s thrall. She… uses me as a blood source. Has used me, for years. I’ve been stuck under her thumb since I was a teenager. It’s… easier to have one consistent source of food than to go out looking for it every night.

“When we were out in the woods,” you nod your head slightly toward Astarion, “there was a Gur. A monster hunter. A-And he said he was looking for a runaway.” Your breaths sharpen into quick, frightened little things. You nearly choke on them. You stare into the fire. Your nails start scratching at your hands. You don’t even realize you’re doing it. “He had nothing to go on, just a name, but I panicked and I- I killed him. I shouldn’t have. I know I shouldn’t have. I could have explained everything. I could have paid him off. I could have-”

“Steady on, soldier,” Karlach interrupts. You can’t look at her, can’t draw your eyes away from the flickering flames, but you know she looks worried. It always amazed you how openly she wore her emotions, despite it all. “Take a breath, okay?”

Your nails stop scratching in favor of digging into your skin. You take a breath, slowly let it out, and your nails ease off. You run your fingertips mindlessly over the indents left behind.

You whisper, unable to raise your voice any further. “He said my master is in Berdusk.”

Quiet. Gale spoke up, voicing the awful realization everyone had. “That’s only a few miles from Baldur’s Gate.”

You nod.

“You’re marchin’ right back to her.” Karlach sighs, heavy and empathetic.

You finally lift your eyes from the fire. Everyone’s attention is on you, pitying and remorseful. “I have no choice. I can’t abandon you all just to run away. Especially with these tadpoles. I have no doubts she’ll find me quickly once we reach the city.”

“We could confront her,” Wyll suggests. ��Go to Berdusk, face her head on, free you!”

“It’s not some goblin camp we can just walk into and clear out,” you protest. The idea thrills you to no end, but you cannot allow yourself that hope. Not when there is none. You will be found. Tonight, the next, a week from now. You’ll be locked back into your servitude. There is no chance you have to be free. “Killing a vampire lord isn’t- It’s not just-”

Astarion speaks up. You don’t expect it; he’d been so quiet this whole time. “If we can kill Cazador, we can kill Kir Parthene.” Your stomach rolls around at the sound of her name. “What makes facing my master any different from yours?”

You know the answer. Even if you don’t realize it yet, you know.

You have no qualms threatening Cazador. You’ve even told Astarion that you plan to help him kill his master, once and for all. Free him and his ‘siblings’, and rid Baldur’s Gate of the nighttime threat to its people. No longer would they have to go out, lure victims in as food for the vampire lord. It was so easy to promise. If you could help everyone else, why should you leave Astarion to the same fate you faced after this quest? He should be as free as possible from the chains binding him.

So why couldn’t you let them swear the same for you? What made Kir Parthene so different from Cazador? She was not stationed in as large a city, she did not steal souls off the street every night just for a quick meal, she did not personally carve poetry into the flesh of those beneath her. She had power, but no more than Cazador held. So why were you so reluctant to even dream of your freedom?

You were afraid.

Astarion can see the very second you know the answer to his question. Your eyes open a fraction wider, filling with a bottomless dread. Your heart stutters and your breath catches. He’s sure you’re on the verge of tears as you inhale a trembling breath, trying to keep yourself from hyperventilating, even as your fear squeezes your lungs.

“You won’t have to face her alone.” You turn to look at Shadowheart. “You’ve given us the strength to face our demons. We can help you face yours.”

You want to believe her. Believe all of them as they nod in agreement. Believe they could give you the strength you lacked, support you when you come face-to-face with her once more.

But then you see the deep crimson of her eyes and lips. You feel her nails digging into your skin. The cooing affections that come just after the harsh vitriol. Her teeth digging deep into your neck. How can you have any hope of facing her?

You shake your head and push yourself to your feet so fast Astarion is startled. “I’m sorry. I can’t think about this right now.” You abandon your dinner. It sits, lonely and growing cold, as you step away from the warm glow of the fire and the safety of your companions into the edge of trees surrounding your camp. You don’t go far, just far enough you can’t hear them speaking and they can’t see you collapse against a tree, clutching and clawing at your hands to remove the memories from your mind.

At least they know now.

---

Tag List:

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[the12thnightproject]

Hi! Can I have a request please in which MC decides to have le Warlords try the "Period Cramp Simulator"? Just imagine them boasting that they'll be fine, only for them to kneel over in pain. 🤣🤣🤣🤣

Again, Anon, I am sorry for taking so long. Hopefully my schedule should clear up soon…? But here is your request!

Oh, this is a fun request. But it involved some serious thinks… these warlords are pretty stoic. In my memory they’ve been shot (arrows and bullets) beaten up, fallen (or jumped) off cliffs, stabbed in battle, stabbed daily by Kenshin and defied a terminal illness without complaint….

So, really, are they going to be defeated by a period simulator? Are they? Let's see....

Upon hearing of such a device there is a great argument over who would be able to last the longest. And so a contest is proposed….

Contest Rules:

One: Mai is not allowed to watch as all agree that none of them will admit to pain in her presence. (She hides in the ceiling and watches anyway).

Two: Yelling, yelping, screaming are grounds for elimation.

Three: Sasuke runs the experiment and controls the simulator. He is the judge as to whether or not a warlord has been eliminated. Why Sasuke? First, because they all trust him enough to run the device equally and not cheating for your lord, Hideyoshi and Kanetsugu. Second, because he is a sensitive new age guy and freely admits that period cramps hurt (he secretly tested the stimulator on himself when he was alone and tapped out at level eight).

Let the games begin! Sasuke places the simulator patches on everyone, and from a master switch, turns the device on so that everyone hits level one simultaneously.

Level One:

All warlords are fine. Ranmaru earns the wrath of the room by noting that it “kind of tickles.”

Sasuke bumps the intensity to Level Two:

Such serious faces. Everyone is concentrating.

Sasuke bumps the intensity to Level Three:

There are a few deep breaths happening now, but nothing that could be defined as yelling, yelping, or screaming.

Sasuke bumps the intensity to Level Four:

Sasuke walks around the room for a long, slow time, looking at everyone’s faces, until Kenshin tells him to get on with things and start making it hurt. When is the pain going to start? Kanetsugu chimes in, telling Sasuke to move things along, so that Kenshin can have his pain. There are quiet whispers of, ‘yes, hurry, let’s move it along,” and a lot of internal, “let’s get this over with now, kthxbye” thoughts.

Sasuke bumps the intensity to Level Five:

Kicho accuses Nobunaga of wincing. Motonari is quick to agree that Nobunaga winced. Hideyoshi defends Nobunaga, says that he would never wince, it was just a natural blink. After a short discussion, it is decided that Nobunaga did not wince, and further accusations of wincing, or yelling, or thereof will be cause for forfeit.

Nobunaga silently admits to himself that he quite possibly winced, but now that he knows what to expect, he is prepared for the next wave of … oh shit.

Sasuke bumps the intensity to Level Six:

Ranmaru, Keiji and Yoshimoto incur a forfeit by accusing each other of wincing. They escape the room. The fourteen remaining warlords quickly look around, but no other accusations are made.

Sasuke bumps the intensity to Level Seven:

There is a lot of visible sweat, careful breathing, and gritted teeth happening. Internally, there is a lot of very creative swearing, using words in combination rarely spoken out loud.

Kennyo puts himself into a meditative state. Masamune wonders if that would be considered cheating, but Kennyo points out that he’s not preventing anyone else from meditating, he’s just using the skills he has.  No one is willing to discuss the matter further, and Shingen notes that Kennyo is correct, and can they please keep going.

Privately, Shingen vows to give every one of his female spies three days off a month, and a pay raise.

Sasuke bumps the intensity to Level Eight:

Sasuke looks at every face and pauses at Ieyasu’s for a long time. Ieyasu says that while he is not bothered by the cramp simulator, Sasuke is making him very uncomfortable. Sasuke replies that he’s impressed by Ieyasu’s stoicism and by the way when this is over, can he have Ieyasu’s autograph. Ieyasu rips the simulator off and stomps out, deciding that while he can endure the pain, he can’t deal with Sasuke.

Ieyasu goes home and hugs his emotional support sourdough starter for the rest of the day.

Sasuke bumps the intensity to Level Nine:

Kanetsugu looks over at Mitsuhide and Hideyoshi…. “Are you two holding hands?!” Mitsuhide and Hideyoshi look down at their joined hands and instantly let go of each other. “No!” they both yelp.

Some time is lost while it is debated whether or not that counts as period simulator yelping, and after everyone votes (voting signified by slow careful hand raises), they are both allowed to continue in the competition.

Yukimura curls himself into a silent, fetal ball – but he does not yelp or yell, so Sasuke is inclined to let him continue.

Sasuke bumps the intensity to Level Ten:

The warlords sit in silent agony.

Time ticks onward.

Slowly.

No one taps out.

Everyone stares at each other’s faces.

“Perhaps we can consider this a tie,” Shingen suggests.

There is immediate universal assent from the rest of the room, and Sasuke agrees. “Take off your simulators.”

Twelve warlords quickly – but nonchalantly – remove their devices. Then Masamune notices… “Mitsunari, lad, you can take the device off now.”  Hideyoshi rushes over to his vassal, worried that perhaps the young man has passed out.

Mitsunari looks up from the book he has been reading. “I’m sorry, did you say something? He gazes around the room. “Oh, are we starting the contest now? Go ahead, Master Sasuke, I’m ready.”

Mitsunari declared the winner.

There will be a celebratory banquet for him…. next week… when everyone else has recovered.

@lorei-writes

[dnalt-d2]

So QSMP Prison, right??

Super exciting, and I super wish I'd been able to find that full subtitled Fuga Impossivel to prepare for it mentally, but oh well, time to start thinking

(And note: I wrote this yesterday and just straight-up forgot to post it, so if anything's changed since then and contradicts what I said, whoopsies)

Now for starters, am I the only one who thinks this is a bit out of nowhere?

The Islanders have been committing crimes for QUITE a while, (Especially Tazercraft lmao) so why only now are they imprisoning all the Islanders?? And why are the Eggs being imprisoned too??

If this is for some crimes they committed, then damn they sure took their sweet time on that, huh??

So what if this is for another reason?

Before, when the Black Concrete was being spread around the Island, the Federation sent the Islanders to Egg Island, thinking it would be safe for them. But it wasn't. It got hijacked by the Watcher, and ended up causing way more problems than it solved

Idk if the Black Concrete is still an issue (Though it seems to have mostly resolved for now) but there is ANOTHER issue of the Eye Workers and Purgatory attacking

And the Eggs are in danger, with Empanada even losing a life

What if this isn't necessarily meant as a punishment, but a way to protect the Islanders and Eggs while the Federation tries to figure out a way to defend them from the Eye Workers?

What if this IS how they defend them from the Eye Workers??

They tried sending them off to a nice place, but that wasn't controlled enough, and it ended up becoming the horror show that was Purgatory. So now, time to course-correct in the opposite direction, as hard as possible

Instead of an Island where they can have some semblance of freedom, thus causing them to be vulnerable, they get the incredibly strict environment of a Prison, where they can control everything they do, and everyone that comes in and leaves. They control every threat, thus ensuring that no matter what, the people inside are as safe as possible, to prevent anymore disasters from striking again

And if there's some other psychological effects, making them easier to control afterwards, then so be it. Anything for their Perfect Island, right?

(And just to add, we saw the images of the Eye Workers looking for someone, right?? It's easy to assume that they're looking for Luffy, but I think that maybe they've lost sight of where the Islanders are, specifically because the Federation hid them. I'm not sure on that entirely, since they looked like they were trying to find something yesterday specifically, and the Islanders were obviously still on the Island. For all we know, they're trying to find someone else entirely, and we just don't know who at the moment)

[c-e-d-dreamer]

Falling For Your Fools Gold: Chapter 10

A/N: The slow burn is officially burning! I need everyone to know that this chapter is 5k words and half of those words are smut! Who is she? Writing 2500 words worth of smut? Also! A fun history fact for everyone: back in the golden age of pirates, a common form of birth control was lemons. Women would often shove a lemon rind or a lemon-soaked rag right on up there before intercourse. It was believed that it would provide a barrier to help prevent pregnancy and also that the acidity of lemons acted as a bit of a spermicide. So, now you'll get Emerie's joke in this chapter and have a fun fact to share at parties ;) But all in all, I hope everyone enjoys chapter 10 of 15 of this fic :) Just reminding everyone of how many chapters this fic is going to be again for no particular reason…

Chapter Masterlist // Previous Part // Next Part

“You have to make sure you keep your elbows tucked in tight.”

Cresseida frowns at the comment, glancing down at her arms, at the stance she’s currently standing in. She shifts her arms, resetting how she’s holding them up before glancing over her shoulder toward Cassian, a silent question in her gaze. The pirate captain steps closer, raising his own hands but pausing before they make contact.

“May I?” Cassian asks. At Cresseida’s nod, he places his hands on her arms, gently guiding them into the correct position. “Like this. Then you can punch forward without overextending, but make sure you hit like this to avoid breaking any fingers.”

Cassian continues to help ensure Cresseida’s form is correct before finally stepping back, focusing his attention on Emerie and Gwyn next. Nesta can’t help but watch him, track his movements as he moves between the three women. The way his smile is friendly and open. The way his hands are gentle as he corrects their stances, their punches. The way he offers kind words of encouragement.

It doesn’t help that the sun is shining bright overhead, a beacon and a spotlight in the wide expanse of blue. The rays catch on the dark strands of his hair, currently pulled away from his face and tied with a leather strap atop his head. The heat led to him rolling the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows, the laces at the collar loose and open. It’s a tease of the golden skin beneath, practically glistening in that damn sun. As if he can feel her gaze on him, Cassian’s eyes catch her own, the shade almost a molten gold glinting beneath the light.

The catch of a dagger hilt against her jaw jolts Nesta back to reality.

“You’re distracted,” Baz chastises, amusement swimming in his brown eyes.

“I am not,” Nesta defends with a huff, readjusting her grip on her dagger. She and Baz both know she’s lying through her teeth, but neither comment on it. “We go again.”

Nesta and Baz continue their spar, Nesta trying to remember everything she’s learnt. It’s certainly more difficult with the added element of daggers, even if both are safely sheathed in their scabbards to avoid any accidental injuries. Nesta has to pay extra close attention to Baz’s right hand while still dodging his other punches and moves. She ducks under a jab from Baz, turning and preparing to swing her own arms when she feels pressure just beneath her ribs. She looks down, surprised to find Baz’s dagger poised there. She’d lost track of his right hand.

“And, you’re dead,” Baz tells her sadly, offering a wry smile as he tucks the dagger away on his belt.

Nesta lets out a frustrated huff, dropping her hands back to her side. “Damn it…”

Baz steps over to the freshwater barrel they have up on deck, pouring a tankard and holding it out for Nesta to take before pouring a second for himself. “You’ll get it next time.”

“You said that the last two times we sparred.”

“No one is perfect right away,” Baz reminds her, already walking backwards away from her to return to his first mate duties. He holds up his tankard in the mimic of a cheers. “Until our next match, Nesta.”

Nesta sighs softly, knowing he’s right. She allows herself just one more moment of self-pity, sipping at her water, before turning her attention back to Cassian and her friends.

“What if someone grabs you and pins your arms?” Gwyn asks, fiddling with the end of her braid. “And you can’t punch?”

“Care to help me demonstrate, princess?” Cassian requests, his gaze cutting toward Nesta. “Might be easier to show than explain.”

Nesta rolls her eyes, but she sets her water down, stepping over to Cassian and dropping her voice to ask, “looking for an excuse to get your hands on me?”

Cassian’s smirk has Nesta’s heart stuttering in her chest, his hazel eyes glinting as he stares down at her. “Always.” With his hands on her shoulders, he carefully turns Nesta around so her back is to him. “Now, most likely, if someone is trying to grab you, they’ll do it from behind so as to take you by surprise.”

Cassian demonstrates just that, his arms wrapping securely around Nesta. He has her arms pinned down against her sides, but all Nesta can focus on is the press of his chest along her spine, the way one of his hands spans across her entire waist, fingers digging in in their grip, his hot breath skating across her skin where his chin is tucked over her shoulder. Pressed this close together, the warmth of him burrows beneath her skin, the scent of pine and low burning embers flooding her senses.

“Nes?” Cassian whispers, his voice laced with quiet concern.

Nesta gives herself a mental shake, clearing her mind of the slippery path her thoughts threatened to tumble down. She brings her foot up and slams her heel hard against Cassian’s toes, his grip around her loosening enough that she can drive her elbow back and into his gut. Cassian doubles over in pain and Nesta steps cleanly away from him, offering a wide smile to Gwyn, Emerie, and Cresseida, all three of them looking at her with various degrees of shock.

“And that’s how you get out of that,” Nesta offers brightly, turning her head back toward Cassian. “Right, Cassian?”

“You didn’t want to hold back even a little for the sake of the demonstration?” Cassian wheezes, still clutching at his stomach.

“I thought it was important to make sure our demonstration was accurate.”

“Is that so?”

Cassian stands back up to his full height, stepping closer until he’s looming over her. Nesta scoffs at his scare tactics, crossing her arms and raising a pointed eyebrow. Waiting. Daring him. Cassian’s smirk is wide, his lips parting.

“Captain!”

All five pairs of eyes turn toward the quarter deck, Cormac standing there with expectant eyes. Whatever silent conversation passes between him and Cassian has the pirate captain nodding in understanding.

“Continue with the training, princess,” Cassian tells her, daring to lean down and press a kiss to her cheek before retreating across the deck.

Nesta bites her lip around a smile, fighting against the heat beginning to pool from that contact point. She clears her throat and turns fully back to her friends. Unsurprisingly, Emerie is smirking, but Nesta settles her with a warning glare before she can say anything.

“You’ve really been doing this every day?” Cresseida asks thankfully, stretching her arms above her head until a wince mars her face. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to lift my arms tomorrow.”

“It gets easier,” Nesta promises, grimacing as she remembers her own first few days training with Baz.

“I don’t even care. I’ll do this every day,” Gwyn tells them, sitting down so she can stretch out her legs. “Especially if it means we can stay. I still can’t believe we got to join the crew.”

“That’s because while he may be the Lord of Bloodshed, Cassian understands that happy wife means happy life,” Emerie snickers, settling down beside Gwyn. “Isn’t that right, Nesta?”

“It’s not like that. At least… I don’t think it’s like that.” Nesta glances over her shoulder, making sure no one else is near before also sitting down on the deck and dropping her voice. “I mean… we did kiss the other day.”

Emerie reaches over and smacks Nesta on the shoulder. “You did what? I can’t believe you’ve been holding out on us.”

“I’m not sure it means anything, though. I mean, sure, back in Adriata, it was considered improper to kiss anyone except your husband, but we’re not in Adriata anymore. I don’t think the same is true on a pirate ship.”

“Normally, I would say a kiss doesn’t mean much,” Cresseida jumps in to offer. “But considering the way the Captain looks at you? It means something.”

“The way he looks at me?” Nesta asks, looking between the three for answers, but they all seem to be wearing similarly exasperated expressions at her question.

“Like he loves you,” Gwyn sighs almost dreamily.

“Like we’re going to have to stock up on lemons at the next port,” Emerie snickers at the same time.

~ * * * ~

The words of her friends echo in Nesta’s head for the rest of the day. While she helps Bram to sew and repair a small tear in the sail. While she picks at her dinner. While she unwinds and gets ready to sleep. The words play over and over on a loop, sinking their claws deeper and deeper into her mind with every go around.

She tries to think of how Cassian looks at her, tries to understand what her friends have apparently seen in just a few short days. He’s certainly always smirking, since the very first day she met him in fact. Often there’s a fire sparking and blazing in his gaze, but there’s something softer hiding amongst the greens and golds too she’s noticed. Something soft in the way his fingers will brush along her cheek, in the smile that Nesta has started to suspect is only for her.

And there’s definitely something in the way he kissed her.

Nesta pauses where she was brushing out her hair, pressing her fingers against her lips. She swears for a moment she can feel the phantom brush of Cassian’s mouth against her own. With a quiet huff, she shakes away her friends’ words and goes back to finishing her hair. She braids it back loosely along her back, tying it off with a ribbon. She stands up and walks over to the bed, getting comfortable beneath the blankets and balancing a book on her raised knees.

She tries to focus on the words, on the characters and the stories, but the ink starts to blur together on the pages, those thoughts unrelenting and still gnawing for attention in the back of her mind. Even being here feels as though it means something. When she’d first been informed this was where she’d be sleeping, she didn’t think much of it, especially since she was the only woman aboard. But now, Gwyn, Emerie, and Cresseida have all settled in below with the crew, and still, here Nesta sleeps.

The cabin door opening finally snaps Nesta back to the present, and she turns her head to watch Cassian stride inside and close the door behind himself. He pulls the leather strap free from his hair, raking his fingers through the strands until they fall back down around his shoulders, before beginning the process of removing his outer layers of clothing. He doesn’t turn or say anything toward her, but Nesta suspects that he can feel her gaze regardless, especially when he reaches to the hem of his shirt, making a big show of pulling it up and off, stretching his arms high over his head so the muscles of his back flex.

Nesta rolls her eyes and slams her book shut. “Are you courting me?”

Cassian’s movements pause for a moment, almost like the flickering of a flame, but then he continues his routine as if she hadn’t spoken. When he finally turns and walks toward the bed, he still doesn’t say anything. Instead, he merely kneels on the mattress, leaning in close to Nesta. His hand reaches back for her braid, pulling it so it falls over her shoulder. His fingers make quick work of tugging off the ribbon, carding through her hair until the braid unwinds.

“Is this going to become a trend then?” Nesta asks quietly, unable to take her eyes off his. “You always undoing all my hard work braiding?”

“I like when you wear your hair down,” Cassian explains, using both hands to straighten out how her hair tumbles around her shoulders.

“It’s a nuisance,” Nesta corrects, but she doesn’t move to fix it, to re-do the braid. “And you didn’t answer my question. Are you courting me? Now that you’ve kissed me.”

“Sweetheart, I’ve been courting you since the moment I met you.”

Nesta frowns, thinking back to their early interactions. “That was courting? You’re quite terrible at it.”

Cassian laughs, the sound light and easy, his hands shifting until her face is cradled between his palms. “My apologies.” He closes the distance between them, pressing his lips firmly against Nesta’s until the breath is stolen straight from her lungs. “Finish your chapter, Nes.”

“I have finished,” Nesta tells him breathlessly. It’s not necessarily a lie. She never did start the chapter with her spiraling thoughts to begin with.

Cassian plucks the book from her lap, stepping away from the bed and setting it down on the desk. He leans down and blows out the candle next, blanketing the cabin in darkness. It gives Nesta enough of a reprieve to compose herself. She swallows hard, trying to calm the way her heart had started to flutter after that kiss, and shifts to lay down properly.

She feels the mattress shift behind her, feels the blankets lift as he gets comfortable as well, and Nesta squeezes her eyes shut, praying that sleep takes them both quickly before her mind can spin out over the fact Cassian kissed her, again, and has apparently been courting her this whole time.

An arm reaches through the darkness, curling around Nesta's waist, and her eyes snap open as she's hauled backwards. Cassian's warmth seeps through her shift and burrows beneath her skin, and she can feel every hard line and muscle where they're now pressed together. Cassian's hand shifts, his fingers gently brushing Nesta's hair aside. His nose slides along the skin of her neck, his lips soon following the same blazing path. There's no stopping the stuttering sigh that tumbles past her lips, her heart tripping over itself between her ribs. Nesta tilts her head as much as she can, giving him better access, and presses back even more, her skin already beginning to prickle with heat.

“Have you ever laid with a man before?” Cassian asks lowly, his breath skittering across Nesta's skin and leaving goosebumps cascading in its wake.

“You know I haven't. I'm a lady, remember?” Nesta shoots back, her words dying off into a whine when Cassian's teeth dig into her pulse point. “But I'm not stupid. I know how it works. I've read about it plenty.”

To prove her point, Nesta rolls her hips back, feeling the hard line of Cassian's own growing arousal pressing against her ass. He lets out a soft groan at the movement, his hand dropping to grip Nesta's hip. It feels like a delicious brand even through the fabric of her shift, adding to the fire already threatening to swallow her whole.

“In your smutty romance books?” Cassian asks, continuing his attention to Nesta's neck.

“Yes.”

“And did you ever touch yourself?”

“So what if I did?”

Cassian's hand slides down to toy with the hem of her shift, and just that teasing touch has the heat shifting to pool in Nesta's gut, has her breath hitching in anticipation. It's with agonizing slowness that his hand moves up her thigh, pulling her shift up with the movement. His fingers dip to trace senseless patterns along her inner thigh, and it takes everything within Nesta to keep still, to not shift and press her hips closer the way she desperately wants to.

“What did you imagine? Did you imagine some strapping knight? A prince perhaps?”

“Well, I certainly didn't imagine some arrogant pirate captain.”

Nesta feels more than she hears Cassian's chuckle, the sound seeming to rumble from deep in his chest before being lost where his lips are still pressed against her skin. His teeth nip gently in retaliation, but that traitorous hand slips an inch higher along her thigh all the same.

“Tell me to stop,” Cassian whispers right against her ear.

Nesta reaches her own hand down, fingers curling around Cassian's wrist, daring to slide his hand even higher. “Don't stop.”

There’s silence and stillness for a moment, the whole cabin, the whole ship, seeming to shake and rattle with anticipation, as if even the gods themselves are holding their breath. This is the true line in the sand, the one that Nesta cannot take back, and yet she’s ready and wanting to tumble head first over it.

The first touch of Cassian’s fingers is light and teasing, just a gentle swipe with the pads of his fingers, but it has Nesta gasping all the same. The second touch is firmer, more purposeful, Cassian burying his own groan against Nesta’s shoulder.

“Already so wet for me, princess? We’ve barely started.”

The next press of his fingers is directly against her clit, and Nesta doesn’t have time to stifle her moan. Her eyes flutter closed, her head falling back against Cassian’s shoulder, as she focuses on the tantalizing circles he draws with his fingers. His hand pulls away, and she would feel ashamed about the whine that tears from her throat, especially when Cassian chuckles again, but the pleasure licking through her veins has her desperate and toeing the line with delirium.

His hand moves to her knee, and for a moment, she's confused, until Cassian tugs her leg back so it's draped across his hip. It opens her up for him, ready for the taking. His fingers return to where Nesta wants them most, but this time, Cassian sinks one into her. His finger is longer and thicker than hers ever were, and Nesta clenches tight around it, her breath stuttering out of her in a quiet whimper.

Slowly, Cassian starts to pump his finger, and Nesta presses her hips down to meet every shallow thrust, desperate to chase the friction. Her every nerve ending feels like it's sparking, wildfire blazing across her skin, with every stroke of that finger.

“That's it, Nes,” Cassian praises, pressing in a second finger beside the first. “Take what you need.”

“Cassian,” Nesta moans, her head emptying of any other thoughts when he curls his fingers.

“Fuck, my name sounds so good falling past your pretty lips.”

“Please… I… I need—”

Nesta's breathless plea is cut off with another gasped moan when Cassian's thumb returns to press against her clit. He works the bundle of nerves in time with his fingers, until Nesta is nothing but a writhing, moaning mess. She feels as taut as a bowstring, every muscle curling tighter and tighter, the flames of her pleasure stoked higher and higher. One more stroke of his fingers, one more press of his thumb, and release crashes into Nesta like a wave. She clenches down around him, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she's half aware of a choked off sound of his name tearing from her throat.

"So beautiful," Cassian murmurs, pressing a sweet kiss to her shoulder.

Cassian's hand retreats from her core, and Nesta wastes no time turning in his arms. Somehow, blindly in the dark, she's able to find his face, crashing their lips together again. Cassian kisses her back just as fervently, his tongue pressing past the seam of her lips and into her mouth. Nesta throws her leg back over his hips, and with her shift still rucked up around her waist, it gives her the perfect vantage to grind against his erection. Cassian groans into her mouth, and Nesta greedily swallows it down, his fingers digging into the flesh of her ass. Her hands slide down his chest to the waistband of his pants, but she only gets one good tug against the laces before Cassian is catching her wrists, halting her movements.

“What's the rush?” Cassian asks, his voice husky and breathless.

“You said you've been courting me since the moment we met.”

Even through the darkness, Nesta can see the way Cassian's eyebrows dip in confusion, his lips tugging down in a frown. “I have.”

“So that means that night, at the inn in Windhaven, when you spoke of your future wife…”

Cassian's grip tightens slightly, and Nesta is sure he must be able to feel how her pulse pounds beneath his fingers. “I was speaking of you.”

“And do pirates not bed their wives?” Nesta dares to ask.

A beat passes, and then Cassian is kissing her again. He presses her back against the mattress, and Nesta goes happily, his weight settling atop her. She buries her hands in his hair, tugging until he's groaning against her lips, until his hips rock down against her own. Cassian's own hands return to the hem of her shift, pulling away enough that he can tug it off completely. He takes a moment to stare down at her, and Nesta tries not to squirm beneath the attention. Her chest heaves, and she can feel a flush creeping down from her neck, but she stays still, swallowing hard. One of Cassian's hands comes up to gently cradle her jaw, his thumb sliding across her bottom lip.

“Beautiful,” Cassian breathes, his voice full of quiet reverence.

Nesta is almost glad she can't see his face properly. Just that one word has her breath catching, her heart squeezing almost to the point of pain in her chest. Before she can think too hard about it, Cassian leans down and kisses her again. She tries to reach for the laces of his pants, but once again, he catches her wrists, pinning her hands up by her head this time. He tears his lips away from hers, pressing hot kisses down the column of her throat, over her collarbones.

When his mouth closes over her breast, Nesta arches up against him. He takes his time, laving attention to one before switching to the other. With his tongue swirling around her nipple and his hand palming at the unattended breast, Nesta can do nothing but pant and keen, fingers gripping into the pillow beneath her head. He finally pulls away, but he continues his descent, pressing kisses along Nesta's stomach until he's settled comfortably between her splayed legs.

“I know I may not have your experience,” Nesta says, tilting her head so she can watch him. “But I'm quite confident this is not how it's done.”

Cassian smirks up at her, his hands sliding along her thighs so he can shift her legs to drape over his shoulders. “Just trying to ensure my future wife is well satisfied.”

Before Nesta can even think of a retort, let alone say anything, Cassian's mouth descends upon her. Nesta is sure the whole ship can probably hear her loud moan. If she thought Cassian's fingers felt amazing, it's nothing compared to his mouth. He devours her like a man starved, tongue moving against her in long, thick strokes. He swirls his tongue against her clit before sucking the bundle of nerves between his lips, and Nesta's hips buck wildly off the bed. Cassian settles an arm across her stomach to hold her down, focusing on pumping his tongue the same way his fingers had.

Nesta finds herself on the edge of that precipice once again, but she can't find it in herself to care about how quickly that heat has pooled again. Not with the way Cassian groans against her, the vibrations felt all the way down to her curling toes.

“Cassian,” Nesta pants, reaching a hand down to the pirate captain's hair, holding him where she wants. “Cass… Cassian.”

Despite her inability to string together a coherent sentence, Cassian seems to know what she needs. He focuses his mouth's attention back on her clit, sinking his fingers into her, three this time. It's all Nesta needs. She shatters with a cry, head thrown back and spots dancing behind her closed eyes.

She sinks back against the mattress, trying to calm her racing heart, trying to bring her breathing back down to normal. She can feel the way Cassian shifts again, the way he rises and presses over her. When she blinks her eyes open again, his face swims back into view, that cocksure smirk firmly in place.

“Wipe that look off your face,” Nesta scoffs.

“Feeling satisfied, future wife?” Cassian asks smugly, all male bravado.

Nesta rolls her eyes and tugs him down into another kiss. She can taste herself on his tongue, and it sends a thrill ricocheting up her spine.

“Please,” Nesta murmurs against his lips.

“It may still hurt. Even with everything.”

“I know, but I want to. I want you.”

Cassian presses their lips back together, the kiss searing. He tries to pull away, but Nesta follows him up until they’re both sitting up, Cassian kneeling between her spread legs while his hands cradle her face. Finally, he pulls away completely, clambering off the bed. He makes quick work of the laces of his pants. Nesta bites her lip, eyes tracking the way his body looks in the trickles of moonlight that spill in from the small cabin window.

Even in the low light and shadows, he’s gorgeous. His hair spilling around his face while he dips his chin to focus on the laces. The broad lines of his shoulders and the dark lines of tattoos swirling along his skin. The way his muscles flex and move as he shoves his pants down his legs and off. The large appendage now standing to attention between his thighs.

A finger beneath Nesta’s chin has her gaze rising to meet Cassian’s again as he climbs back onto the bed. “You say stop, and we stop.”

“I thought I told you not to stop,” Nesta challenges, shifting to lay back, an open invitation.

“You’re going to be the death of me, sweetheart,” Cassian mutters.

He settles above her again, guiding her leg up so her thigh rests against his hip. Nesta can feel her heart thundering away between her ribs, but she still bucks her hips up, gasping at the drag of his cock through her folds. Cassian’s answering groan spurs her on, but then his hand is gripping her hip, stilling her. His hand shifts away, dropping between them, and then Nesta feels the first press of him. Every rock of his hips has him sinking another inch, and Nesta tries to breathe through the new, slightly uncomfortable feeling, the stretch like she’s never felt before.

Cassian drops his head to press hot kisses across the skin of Nesta’s neck, and soon, the pain gives way to a delicious feeling of fullness. Nesta wraps her arms securely around Cassian’s shoulders, her nails digging into his shoulder blades. Cassian lets out a groan, moving his hips with more purpose, and the friction and pleasure is indescribable, moans falling freely from Nesta’s lips.

“You take me so well,” Cassian breathes hotly against her ear. “Like you were made to take my cock like my good girl.”

A whimper tears its way free from Nesta’s throat, and she starts to buck her hips to meet every thrust. Cassian lifts his head to press his forehead against hers, and Nesta tries to keep her eyes open, tries to meet that burning, hazel gaze, but it’s hard to focus on anything other than the fire licking across her skin, the way her mind has gone intoxicatingly fuzzy, the way his hips grind down against her own with every stroke in and send sparks flying.

“The next time we do this, I'm going to leave the candle burning. I want to see that pretty flush on your cheeks, see perfectly when you fall apart on my cock,” Cassian continues, his words sending Nesta higher and higher, release glimmering just out of reach. “You're already so beautiful, but I know I'm going to want this sight branded on the back of my eyelids forever.”

One of his hands slinks between them, finding her clit with ease. He strokes it in time with his snapping hips, and Nesta feels like she’s being consumed whole. She tries desperately to grasp at coherent thoughts, tries to form words, but she’s quickly dissolving into a mess of moans and Cassian’s name, a chant and a prayer.

“Come on, Nes. Give me one more,” Cassian requests, his own hips stuttering. “I know you can do it. Be my good girl and come all over my cock.”

The command snaps Nesta’s final tether. Her back bows off the bed as she arches up against him, pleasure like she’s never felt before racing through her veins. Her toes curl, a near shout of Cassian’s name tearing from so deep within her chest, she swears it leaves claw marks behind. She’s half aware of Cassian continuing to move against her, but for a moment, she feels like she’s floating, like her body isn’t her own.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Cassian groans against her throat. “Fuck, nothing feels like you.”

Cassian’s hips still against her own, and then the cabin is blanketed in silence once again, just the sounds of their heaving breaths slowly quieting. Carefully, Cassian pushes off of her, and Nesta winces slightly at the drag.

“Sorry,” Cassian murmurs, pressing a sweet kiss to her forehead.

Cassian clambers off the bed, grabbing a cloth and dipping it in the freshwater basin so they can clean themselves up, and then Nesta finds herself once again laying in bed with Cassian’s arms secure around her waist. Only this time, she lies facing him. This time, there’s nothing between them, not her shift, not his pants. This time, it’s just bodies pressed together, limbs tangled beneath the blankets.

Nesta’s whole body feels sated and heavy, her eyelids already beginning to droop, but she continues to trace the lines of Cassian’s tattoos that she can make out through the darkness with her fingertips, following them down his shoulders, over his collarbones, and down his chest. Her fingers skate over slightly raised skin, and her movements stop, a frown tugging down her lips.

“A sword,” Cassian answers the unasked question, his fingers curling gently around Nesta’s own and guiding her to trace the scar across his chest. He guides her hand to his other shoulder next, more raised skin, although the scar is smaller. “A dagger.” Their joined hands travel down until they’re pressed against his lower stomach, until Nesta feels puckered skin. “A pistol. During the war.”

Nesta swallows hard, a lump pressing against her windpipe, suddenly at a loss for words. She traces around the scar, feeling where the bullet must have hit, and barely tapers down a shudder. Cassian lifts her hand away again, this time bringing it up to his lips. He presses a kiss to her palm, and places her hand flat against the center of his chest, his heartbeat fluttering just beneath her touch.

“Yours.”

—

Updated Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog​ @lifeisntafantasy​ @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl​ @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld​ @isterofimias @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust​ @a-trifling-matter​ @blueunoias​ @kookskoocie​ @cassiansbigwingspan​ @unlikelypersonalknight1​ @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard

[kasarian]

character trope ask game: i would say yours is beefy men who hold truly deep sorrow and/or grief in their hearts and yet refuse to be hardened by the cruel hardships surrounding them. strong, warrior's hands that would rather bake bread than take up arms, but will fight if truly necessary. an estrangement from humanity and normalcy that lends itself to a will to protect the human and normal. rejected souls that are prepared to use themselves as kindling in their loved ones' hearth. a soft smile from someone that has already given up on their own future, but truly believes that everyone else's is so dearly precious.

and in terms of love (not necessarily romantic) interests for these characters: a hand to reach out to the abandoned and an embrace to grant a moment of rest to those who don't seem like they would need it. a steady heartbeat to their ear, to remind them that they are at rest and this future they have fought for is theirs as well. someone who will save them a warm seat in the home they have built and fought to defend. someone who is willing to carve out a future for them when they wouldn't think to take it themselves.

spark. spark spark i am holding this ask very dearly in my palms i have been staring at it since i woke up. its like. a very clear and accurate read of me and im grinning but also ive been ueueue-ing everytime i reread it im--

looks at you with pitiful wet eyes..... you are correct...

[my-jokes-are-my-armour]

The witcher S3 volume 1

Oki this is my "detailed review" of S3 volume 1. Or should I say thoughts and comments.

Here is the short version so you can choose to step away : I really liked it.

Why do I feel like I need a shield ? Well, because out of my bubble here, the sound of the masses makes my opinion seems like an very unwanted one. It seems very important to dislike this season by all means.

As always I share mostly a gray opinion. Meaning : I have my feelings and within those, I say both what I find good or bad without shitting on everyone and everything. "I like this because... but... I don't like this because... but...". This are my basics. And I try to stay as neutral as possible in the way I say things.

But I won't lie, this time I have some difficulties because there is too much toxicity around and, what I thought was impossible, it finally affected me while watching the show in a very bad way. And for that I am angry. You can tell as I recently put an almost agressive rambling against some review.

I try to stay away from comments or reviews and stuff but sometimes I tiptoe into just just to see another reality. And although I found constructed things in the bad comments regarding S2 (even in BO), although this time this is more a game of pure destruction. And as much as I am angry, I will try not the play the same game that only lead to hatred. So I will try my best to illustrate what I am saying and not just throw feelings at your face.

To be clear also, I don't defend blindly the writers here, I am taking the final product as it is in my analysis.

Spoilers of S3 vol 1 under the cut. I won't speak about what would probably happen in vol 2 though. So if you have seen vol 1 but not read the book, this is safe.

First of all I will say it.

- No, the show doesn't follow stricto sensu the books but more in the S1 way. Though it has many scenes almost taken from the pages, or in the spirit of it.

- Yes, there are some plotline additions and more twisted ones but for me it helps building intrigues more than running to the opposite of characters from the books, giving more relief to some of them and link stuff that needs pages and pages to get through. So I don't see them in a bad eye.

My point of view.

The first sequence with Geralt, Ciri and Yennefer is an example. For me this corrects a lot of bad done during S2. It is not like in the books at all, even if it uses the "dear friend" letter as a trope, but it lands on a relation more in phase with the books. We have trust and tension. And Geralt and Yennefer reconnecting. Of course, this shouldn't had to be necessary at all in the first place but seeing their relation building up put a smile on my face.

My only complaint will be that we still just have glimpses of how magic works in this universe. In the books, Yennefer teaching Ciri magic is THE moment we learn the most of it. So just having crumps is frustrating me.

For Geralt, I had a great time with the fight sequences and the relationships he has with Ciri, Yennefer and Jaskier. The feeling is closer to the book version for me. And I have to say, I really liked the whole sequence in Anika's hut where he learns about his mother. This and the fact that he discovers the false Ciri and the experiments are a twist from the books but it connects a lot of further plotlines. Also when he learns that his mother has died and he has still ressentiment for abandoning him leads to a great emotional side of Geralt and builds the fact that this is the reason why he will never abandon Ciri in return, whatever the coast. And I was missing those kind of vulnerabilities in Geralt that were so nice to read on a "brute" stereotype. So it gives depth to the character. It was not what I was waiting for but I take it as well.

For Yennefer, I connected less with her this season but I loved the growth and the parallels with Ciri. She has learnt from her mistakes found her purpose. So while normally it's not her to prepare the conclave, from where she is coming from in S1 and S2, it is almost the only way to reconnects the dots. I really wish we didn't need this to repair everything, but all considering, it was OK. From her part I mostly liked the journey with Ciri to Aretuza and the humorous parts with Geralt.

For Ciri, I connected more with her this season. Like she finds herself more at ease in a witcher (male) version of her world. That speaks to me a lot. Although I gender myself as a woman my brain doesn't work usually like the "typical" woman. Or at least those I met in my life. I have the typical you are a "garçon manqué" (which I don't know how to translate in English) said about me very often. I was with more men during my student years and at work so learnt to navigate them more than groups of women. I was a bit like Ciri at Kaer Morhen. I have experienced the more frontal, direct approach of men vs the shady, smile in the front, stab in the back approach of women during conflicts, especially at work, too many times so I can relate to Ciri when she can't bare the company of the sorceresses, who are all facades. And I love what she learns from that, in the end.

For Jaskier, I am very pleased that the trauma of the torture was addressed and became a motive of certain "bad" decisions he made. He still has heart to protect those he loves and do what thinks is good for them. Which is basically what he does all the time in the books, especially in the Baptism of Fire, so we kind of see this trait ealier. I liked the honesty between him and Geralt and his relation with Ciri is heartwarming. Now the development of his love life is something I could talk all day (and I probably will later). The Radovid plot, I was nervous at first but I loved it because it has layers and some speaks to me a lot. Basically the whole plotline of Jaskier is a mixture of inventions and scenes from the books but it is coherent with the character in his whole and connects efficiently the dots from Redania politics to the found family.

In a way, I find the spy element of this Jaskier more grounded here than the one in the books, where it has like no explanation except "i am a patriot" 🤷🏽‍♀️.

Then, am I going to address the elephant in the room ? The pansexual Jaskier. Yes I am gonna do it, but I want to finish with the characters and the bits that I want to talk about first.

I liked the interactions between Philippa and Dijkstra which helps building the politics from Redanian side while enveiling progressively some leads to the final reveal of who is the bad guy. The only sequence that bothered me was the bdsm thing. Except to re-enforce the dominatrix trait of Philippa personality, it adds nothing more to what was shown before, except this face 😬 on me lol.

Speaking of the leads to the final revelation, I liked that this was made within different characters' journey, connecting the dots step by step. So sure it shifted some narratives but it was fluid and paced the whole thing without having big revealing time, except the whole episode 5 where they tried something in the structure, to make it more digest. But for me this is the episode I liked the least because of this artifice exactly. The loop was too repetitive in its first iteration and it made my attention drop seriously for the next part. But it was interesting on a technical point of view. They like to play with past and present a lot in this show and here it was well done as it was treated like a rendition of Geralt and Yennefer side of the event, confronting what they learnt from the people they talked to. And they mixed it with some "hot" moments, that I think may have pleased a lot of people.

Well, for me the complicity and complementarity was more rewarding but I don't see it as a bad thing. That echoes their relationship in the books but overall I am not very interested in that. The playfulness between them during the ball was more attractive to me. But I am aware that this is a very personal take of it as I tend to loose interest the more I see "love" scenes lol. The shorter, the better 😅.

For the other characters, I was not convinced by Fringilla plot, but I dug more into Cahir's whose faith is shifting badly.

The White Flame had little exposition but help filling the blanks a little bit for his story and I am surprised they are seemingly running down the hill of this incest plotline from the books. It will be certainly different, but the first hints are there.

On the brotherhood side, I don't have much to say for the moment. I think I will elaborate more after vol 2, especially on Vilgefortz. Just I note that Istredd connects some things with BO. This is very short and maybe confusing for those who having seen it but it makes sense within this version of the story. And I like that Stregobor that is set up to be disliked from the bigining is just a false thread to find the real bad guy.

From the elven side, I feel this is rushed. The jumps from S2 to S3 isn't hard to understand but the struggle connecting with Nilfgaard is due to the strange plotline of S2 again. Gallatin helps connected things together but it shouldn't have been so convoluted in the first place. Yet I understand where it leads later for Francesca.

I have like the use of certain minor characters like Aplegatt who had a running gag with the arrow until the futur Ciri foretold happened which leads to consequences we will see in vol 2. I didn't like the "professor" though who had the trash mob treatment. You recognise him and seconds later he is dead.

And I found Valdo Marx hilarious. His song his catchy and even if it is not subtle for the plot it gives a real rythme to the ball iterations.

This is pretty much my global thoughts on the volume 1.

Now what's in the books ?

Here is the resume of each chapter of Time of Contempt to the point it stopped for the show :

- Aplegatt is doing his job being the messages between kingdoms. He meets on the road Yennefer and Ciri who prophetised his death and more things. Geralt visits Codringher and Fenn to have informations about Rience. A lot of political stuff and schemes are discussed and bits of False Ciri. Aplegatt dies from an arrow.

- Yennefer and Ciri are in Gors Velen. Yennefer goes to the dwarven bank (politics politics schemes schemes). Ciri visits the city with Fabio and... kills the wyvern in the monster show. While she tries to escape she bumps into Tissaia and Margarita Laux-Antilles. Politics and schemes at the baths. Ciri flees to find Geralt. The wild hunt appears in the sky. Ciri rushes toward Geralt's position who is with Jaskier. Yennefer saves her. When reunited Geralt and Yennefer are arguing. Ciri watch from afar with Jaskier explaining they love each other.

- Jaskier babysits Ciri while Geralt and Yennefer go to the Thanedd ball. A lot of dialogs there that set up everyone's position. Hot scene between Geralt and Yennefer.

- In this chapter the only thing I can take is Codringher and Fenn killed and burned by Rience minion.

Well everything seems here, with changes of course, but I guess we covered it all. But there is more. So what's more that are in the books also.

Here is what is from The Last Wish incorporated in S3 (what I remember)

- Belleteyn

Here is what is from of Blood of Elves incorporated in S3 (what I remember)

- Shaerrawedd story, even if the set up is twisted.

- Geralt leaves Ciri with Yennefer so she can teach her magic while he is tracking Rience. The Dear Friend letter (but we know it is used differently) .

- Jaskier has some spy duties (the set up is entirely different). And some more politic stuff.

(The scene with Vespula is from The Sword of Destiny.)

So now, I know everything is twisted because they chose to tell the story differently. But all the bricks are here with some pretty close to the books moments and everything is set up almost properly for what's to come. That's the reason why I like this season and I don't find it outrageous.

My rambling.

Now... This is the part where I will be less tempered.

You may noticed that I have kept Radovid almost away from the equation. Well because... this is where I can loose myself because of the bad comments. Not just the ones on the divergence from the lore only. I includes what comes usually with it. The pan Jaskier and people of color kind of divergence from the lore comments.

Last week I lost my temper on a review using false book accuracy arguments to justify a rant about Jaskier been queer in the show. The person wrote incorrect things, stated them as truth, for their readers. So angry people could find examples of what was so wrong in the show using their anger to validate their lies blindly [x].

I don't go much to see the comments and the reviews because it hurts me most of the time. And I am someone open to critical stuff. But you know statistically if people were fair, I should find perfectly argumented rants about the show along with the blind rage ones. For S2 and BO it was the case.

Here, the vast majority of what I read are just "the show did wrong" without any argument. "They are not faithful to the source material" without any example. Some are openly racist or queerphobic. Some hide behind the things like the reviewer I was angry about.

I am sad to see an actress had to justify her portrail of her character because she doesn't look like what people expect, to say it politely, and because she made some artistic choices that are not european coded [x].

I have seen many comments with bollywood memes under the first twit of RI reporting that Anya chose to incorporate Indian dances moves to her magic. She wouldn't have said it, except for the battle in Shearrawedd, I am sure no-one would have noticed. And for those who are angry about those cultural inserts, please explain me what looks like a perfect european magic move. Show me then the problem in Anya's portrail.

I am sad to read bad things under the Valdo Marx extract, because the actor is black.

I am sad to read homophobic comments on Joey's insta (but extremely proud and moved by the Dear Hearts response to that).

And I am angry that people don't even try to understand what are the stories told. They are on a hate bulldozer and simply crush everything under.

Is the show perfect : NO ! Is the show deviating from the source material: YES ! I already said it. But this is still WAY closer than the former season (cf my preceding point).

I took time to say in my first point what I like and dislike, pointing purposely things that diverged from the books in their structure or narratives. And there is a lot as you can see, and I didn't say it all.

Maybe you miss Geralt hitting on many ladies, even while being officially with Yennefer, and hyperfixating on boobs sometimes (while they blinked politely at it in the show this time) ? The more classic family portrait adaptation doesn't hurt anyone's feelings apparently. Or that least THAT kind of divergence doesn't come front when it comes to book accuracy.

Why is it always the "race" and the queerness ? The real question is : where does the hypocrisy ends ?

The Radovid part and pretty much all of Jaskier's plotline this season are invented. It has anchors in the books in some scenes but, like the rest of the divergences, this plotline setup many things that are more a lot of dialogs in the books.

They use this Radovid and his relation with Jaskier to show the con games of Philippa and Dijkstra in a more easy way to absorb in a tvshow. But I guess you sure want 10 min straight of people throwing names and places you don't know about and learn about them 5h later. It is sure not easier to have the whole thing built slowly over the course of the 5h.

They also used Radovid to put some new layers on Jaskier with the romance. Those layers includes his pansexuality, sure, but there is more. Things that have been played but not said are out up front now. His extreme empathy that helps him read people. It is his superpower and his weekness. We see a more clever side to him too. We see him trying to navigate with Radovid to find solution for Rience and maybe safe conduit for Ciri. And this is a part of how he has now a place in the found family and how he connects with them, which was inexistant in both S1 and S2.

This is not just about sexuality. But apparently it overshadow everything else. So...

For those who found the kiss coming from nowhere, I invite you to listen and watch more carefully.

For those who found Jaskier too promiscuous this season, I remind you that Jaskier is known to have multiple affairs in the books, and this is mentioned in the show as well in S1, and teased in S2, so this is not new. This is just the first time it is shown clearly.

For those who simply cannot bare the view of two men kissing, just close your eyes, you have plethora of heterosexual book accurate relation in the next episode.

And you know what :

We know little about love. Love is like a pear. A pear is sweet and has a distinct shape. Try to define the shape of a pear.

Jaskier

[tigre-edi-rawr]

The Most Critical Childhood Trauma

I went outside this evening to withdraw money and buy some disposable vapes. I asked my parents what they wanted as "pasalubong," a traditional Filipino gift from children to their parents. Then I went home and bought everything I needed.

As I sat down, we were all casually discussing my plans to purchase an air conditioner for my bedroom because I now work from home. Suddenly, the mood changed, and I recall my father saying, "Nakausap ko yon noong mga time na nagkakaproblema ako sayo." And I was perplexed until it suddenly came on me what he was referring to. As someone who cannot sleep without expressing my opinion, I felt compelled to explain in order for him to understand.

What happened was… My mother started a business with my aunt (my father's brother's wife), which was probably pandemic, selling kitchen appliances. My father's mom stated, "Nako, wag ka na bumili diyan may tubo na yan." The argument was that her daughter, my aunt (the trauma), was running her own business selling pastries and things. We never mentioned anything like that, despite the fact that her food was as pricey as fuck, like Starbucks, when it wasn't even that great.

So, sure, my mother told me about it, and I was upset. I was enraged. But I did not confront my aunt and grandma there. But keep in mind that I was enraged. That night, I was browsing Facebook stories when I came across my aunt's (the trauma) story about her cupcake, and I knew it wasn't her work because she found it on Google. "gawa mo yan?" I inquired, and she lied, saying yes and that it was her work although I clearly knew it wasn't. Here's our conversation that time:

THE LIAR BITCH GOT CAUGHT!

That sparked a fit in the family's group chat. It made me angry at my father since he knew what they did to my mother but did nothing and even supported his mother, my grandma. Then I went weeks without speaking to him. He's as light as air to me. I'm a "rebelde" at this point. I won't talk to him, see him, eat with him, or be near him; I'll hide myself in my room whenever he's around, or I'll go to my ex's.

He was looking for the extension that I used one night, and luckily for me, I used it and did not return it to where I found it. He entered my bedroom, smashed the door, and yelled terrible things like "masiyado kang mataas, wala ka pa namang mapagmamalaki," then left but returned to add "lumayas ka na dito!" WHICH I DID. I grabbed all my belongings, especially the ones I need for my puto business at the time, and I finished packing (my sister and brother helped me) around 3 a.m., then my ex came to fetch me. I remember our youngest helping me bring my things with me, while saying "ingat ka ate ha." 

After weeks, my family tried to find me because they wanted me to return home. My ex and I were preparing to drink with his pals one night when one of his friends called and said that someone was looking for me. They're wondering where my ex's house is and whether they know who I am. We were informed, and my parents went to my ex's house. They even talked with my ex's father to convince me to go home because I don't want to. I recall saying to my father's face, "umalis na kayo, kaya ko na sarili ko, kakayanin ko."

They then returned home.

End.

So back to the conversation, I stated that I am not the problem. It was just you and your family. As I was saying that and watching my father's reaction, I was disappointed in myself since I had forgotten how he is with his family, especially her mother. He is a defender, enabler, and protector. Memories came in of how his side of the family treated us badly and yet got away with it because my father refused to say anything about it and even defended them instead of standing up for us and correcting who was wrong so that everyone could right their wrongs, learn, and heal.

I was in pain. And I've been carrying this trauma with me since I was in elementary school. "Maybe if I say that, magulat ka sa kapatid mo?" I asked my dad, referring to my aunt, her sister, and the trauma. He was laughing as he awaited my tea.

Then I added, "noong bata pa kami, sinasabihan niya ako na magscissor kami, sa banyo, sa kwarto, and she will tell me na wag magsusumbong o sasabihin kahit kanino" as my voice trembled and tears were about to fall. Yes, my aunt will tell me to please her in such a way that I also learned what it feels like since I will also be involved in the pleasure.

And I told my father that maybe that's why I fucking despise that person. It's disgusting.

But he said nothing and brushed it off as if it were nothing. LIKE. IT. WAS. NOTHING. I wasn't sure whether he believed me, but I don't care because it's my story and I fucking know what happened and it did.

Many things are said, but I couldn't stop crying when I heard "basta ngayon, ang ganda ng estado ng buhay ko, pero sinisira niyo." I stood up and walked away. I went inside and began crying; all I could think of was…

Buti ka pa maayos. All the traumas you inflicted on me and our family. All of the abuses your family inflicted on me and this family. Buti pa kayo maayos, nothing concerned you, and you can go about your business day by day, while I knew deep down inside that I was ruined. I'm a fucking mess. I learnt a lot of wrong things about family and relationships, and it shaped me not to trust completely, not to yield everything even if you love someone a lot. Marriage taught me to be terrified. And because of all of that, I am me every day. I'm no revel, but I'm hella strong and independent; I can stand on my own, love myself, even hurt someone because I always put myself first and don't feel guilty about it. Because I prioritized myself, and it was instilled in me that this is the first thing I should do, and there's nothing wrong with it. It was useful in certain ways, but I was monster. I'm like a walking red flag. And I can't change it, not because I don't want to, but because I can't.

[elliewiltarwyn]

ellie's journal: Second Astral Moon, 17th Sun

My mind is still reeling, so I brook no criticism if this seems a little discombobulated.

As of today, I’m now a member of a secret organization known as the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. Normally I’d be suspicious of such underground movements; indeed, I’ve learned too well to always be nurturing such suspicions of everyone around me.

Yet when I learned that in this organization dwell others with the “gift”… that is, others who have been having visions of falling stars and an enormous crystal that speaks to them… I must admit my heart skipped a beat. The leader—she bears the title of Antecedent, and her name is Minfilia Warde—made it quite clear this was an invitation, not a conscription, yet how could I not take her up on that? It feels like an even clearer version of the path Raya-O laid out for me a few moons ago: a path that has already seen me defend Gridania and the Guardian Tree from the Ixali and strange black-masked mages. I’d kick myself forever if I didn’t walk this road as far as I can, to see what lies at the end of it and beyond.

Minfilia seems earnest enough, mayhaps too much, but it’s endearing… though I’m unsure if I am blinded by the way my heartrate is already increasing, my cheeks already reddening, whenever she looks upon me. Gods, I’m too easy a mark for pretty women; woe betide me the moment I come across one with ill intentions again.

Speaking of intentions, I was not the only new Scion recruit; there were two other adventurers beside me who even now are sleeping in bunks on the far side of these quarters. I would not have noted them much… except for the fact that our paths before converging here in this secret headquarters were uncannily similar: all of us recently rescued an Eorzean city-state from primal-tempered threats, followed by a triumphant confrontation with a fearsome black-masked mage — all the while experiencing these visions. It’s too easy—and too early—to say my fate is tied to theirs already… but I have to admit it’s one of the more intriguing ways I’ve made friends.

Well. I say friends… The miqo’te is nice enough: bubbly, enthusiastic, and cheerful. Lilyana is her name, and she claims to be an alumnus of the secret guild of rogues that take up residence in Limsa Lominsa. ‘Tis possible, especially since I haven’t been there in six years, and I’m unaware of how things may have changed or even what seedier elements laid underneath the surface of my “dear” home turf. I just wouldn’t expect someone like her to be a rogue; albeit, ever since our induction she has been juggling and twirling one of her knives in a highly skilled manner, without once cutting herself. Her disposition is sweet, and if she in fact is capable of defending herself—all the better.

The other adventurer is the primary source of my hesitance to claim “friends” just yet. She is an armored hyur with naval blue hair, trained at the Gladiators’ Guild in Ul’dah by the name of Mia Longhart. She is practically Lilyana’s opposite: looking every bit the honorable gladiator but with a begrudging personality that has, quite frankly, been off-putting to experience. She sniffed out my role in the siege of the Guardian Tree and looked too satisfied in having done so, and she’s been abrupt and curt ever since. I’m sure I don’t know what I’ve done to earn her ire—well. Okay. I did retaliate by tying her to a rumor I heard this morning as I departed the Quicksand, of a blue-haired gladiator who saved the sultana. (“Her crown,” Longhart had corrected as she rolled her eyes. Details.) Surely that isn’t enough to warrant this chill from her? My skin crawls whenever she looks at me, and it always feels like she’s sizing me up when she does. I really don’t appreciate it.

Admittedly, we may have gotten off on the wrong foot. I suppose we’ll see if that changes: Minfilia said she will have our first assignment prepared by the morrow. Lots of high-minded talk about transcending the realm’s boundaries; it’ll be interesting to see how that takes shape.

It’ll be less fun if Longhart doesn’t stop shooting me suspicious glares from her bunk. Don’t think I don’t see you.

[emeritus-moon]

{ENGLISH} Young!Papa Nihil x Angel!Gn!Reader

Request : None

Gender : Neutral

Who : Papa Nihil | Papa Zero (Young)

N/A : {SPOIL Ghost - Chapter Eight} Can we talk about Papa Nihil? I think he's a lovely man... And despite his mistake that we can see in Chapter Eight - Kiss the Go-Goat, we can see that he regrets his actions and that he is ready to do anything to make up for it... Yes, I'm naive and I defend this little grandpa, but at the same time when he doesn't smile like a child fascinated and happy with anything, he gives a sad face that breaks my heart ! We see that he is filled with guilt and that he gives his all but in vain... (and honestly, I am convinced that if the Sister Empress were not there... Nihil would not have killed her sons... But that's my opinion, everyone has their own!) Also, I hesitate to do a part two where I include Sister Imperator.. Or I reserve another idea of ​​Papa Nihil x Reader with her. Because I'm imagining a little story with Nihil who doesn't want to hurt you but doesn't want to disappoint the Sister either. It's up to you to tell me!

- - - : Timeskip

~ ~ ~ : Flashback

- - -

Your name is Y/N. An Angel who never ages, whose physical appearance is stuck at an age between 20 and 30 years old.

Many months ago :

~~~

You have been sent by your God to try to correct the faults of a young man who is nicknamed Papa Nihil. Well, that's what the community of his religion calls him. You just called him Nihil. And it is still the case today.

However, your mission was a failure...                                    Why?

Because you fell in love with the man you had to change, or punish... And this feeling guided you a lot in questioning yourself, well especially questioning your work...

Your God had sent you to teach a lesson or give correction to Nihil, but how would punishing help to do good? If ultimately, the act is not a good thing.

What seemed logical to you, at that moment of reflection, was to accept the young man as he was, so you did it without hesitation.

You did and followed what seemed to you to be the best, the most stable, finally, what makes more sense for you.

Your opinion is, no religion is perfect, in the end, each of them has its positive points as well as its negative points... And if you accepted many other religions in addition to your own, why not this one? What is more or less?

The day of your "mission", at the start, you had been sent in disguise, you wore the same uniform, the same symbols. However, you didn't have the same makeup... You didn't even have any at all.

But Nihil welcomed you with open arms and you infiltrated very quickly among the other members of the abbey. Despite a few inconveniences and the rituals you weren't used to, you got used to it quickly. After all, it had to...

The few friends you made made you up and taught you how to do it every morning until you got used to it. They helped you feel at home, despite the work you had to do every day. And it wasn't so bad.

Since your arrival, Nihil was always around. That's what your new "colleagues" pointed out to you.

He wasn't suspicious, no... He seemed fascinated and happy.

Everyday, he used to be tense due to the endless work he had been carrying on his back for a long time. But since you arrived in the abbey, just your presence has brightened his day in this cold building.

~~~

Tonight, as you prepare to return to your quarters after washing up, Nihil calls you. And, turning back to him, you then see the fascination with your unmade-up face, as he saw you the first time, and his shy smile forming as he gently extends his hand towards you before to propose :

"- Can I take you for a ride, Y/N?

"- Papa Nihil, I'm not dressed properly for a cold night at the abbey!" you laugh.

Nihil, seeing that you are only in a long but light dressing gown, then grabbed his cape which he is carrying on his back and he helps you put it on your shoulders.

After a while, you accept his offer when you see his sweet gaze almost begging you. So you go out.

- - -

Nihil took you to the Abbey Gardens. Magnificent gardens filled with dark red or white roses, some flowers of different kinds of the same color or black. This garden, your peers would surely not appreciate it, but you do it.

The young man called Papa stopped on a bridge over a river in the terrace, which surprised you a bit and, honestly, worried you. But your worry disappears when you see him smile softly at you as he grabs your hands and kisses the knuckles of one of them.

A blush quickly spreads over your cheeks and you pray with all your heart that Nihil didn't notice.

The man looks at you straight in the eyes, and says in a hurry :

"- I'm not going to cut corners... I'm not hiding from you that I don't want to confess. So just- let me... Will you?"

After his words, you feel his lips rest against yours.

The kiss is sweet, Nihil can almost convey his stress from it, but you ignore that little detail and all you do is melt into the kiss.

Your act reassured Nihil and the man relaxes before interlacing his fingers with yours as you always hold hands.

The kiss got a little deeper, but neither of you made it rough, both of you wanting to take your time.

His lips taste like makeup, due to the makeup he still wears on his face, but the taste isn't strong or disturbing. And then, in your eyes, it's quite original, and Nihil is the only one wearing makeup that you know, apart from the sisters of the abbey, so that makes him, in a way, unique.

After a while, you separate, quietly catching your breath. A silence settled, but this one is not awkward.

You put your foreheads together and your eyes close.

But suddenly, one thing comes to mind : your different "camps"...

This worried you quickly and made you anxious right away, which surprised Nihil who tries somehow to calm you down with soft and reassuring words. And that's when you decide to tell him...

"- Nihil... We can't...

- Amore... Why...?

- I-I-I lied...

- Lied?

- I-I'm not a simple girl who wanted to convert to your religion! I'm not a sister like the others in the abbey... I-I-"

Your eyes met, Nihil's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but you don't see any anger in his eyes, you just see him trying to understand, but failing. So you explain everything to him briefly, but correctly.

"- I was sent by my God... Their goal was to reconvert you, you, to them. It was my job to attract you to us! Because supposedly... you are different, and for them , being different is wrong. But in the end, what's wrong with being different? I mean... We all are! I can't take this pressure anymore... I can't take you anymore. do that, I'd rather give up my mission than change you against your will! And because- because I love you like you are Daddy!"

A new silence had settled. Pressure followed, and it was too much for you.

You fall on your knees, Nihil's cape slipping off your shoulders. You felt the cold outside deepen and slap on your not much covered back, but you did nothing to protect yourself from the cold. All you do, right now, is hide your face behind your hands. You dare not look Nihil in the eyes anymore, feeling shame surround you with its unhealthy aura.

After several seconds that felt like an awful eternity, you felt the cape slowly come up over your shoulders.

Raising your head with hesitation, you met Nihil's face again. He then gave you a small smile. After this, you collapse again and fall into his arms, taking him by surprise.

This doesn't mean that he rejects you, no, on the contrary. Nihil sits properly on the floor and pulls you closer to him, hugging you gently, as if you could shatter into a thousand pieces in his arms.

You stay for several minutes, sitting on the cold and slightly damp deck until your crying stops.

After just a few gasping sounds, Nihil gently grabs your chin to lift your face towards him :

"- Looks like you've made a sin, Tesoro."

A smile once again tender, but at the same time sly, slips on his lips. A blush appears again on your face and this time, it does not go unnoticed by Papa Nihil.

The man laughs before leaning down and kissing your lips.

The kiss ends faster than the previous one and Nihil looks you straight in the eye, this time holding your face in his hands.

"- I will accept you as you are, as you did for me Y/N."

You did not have time to answer, that he once again shared his lips with yours. You then decide to stay on deck for a while, enjoying the silence and tranquility offered by the night.

You will surely have problems with your colleagues... But it doesn't matter if they reject you, since Nihil does not.

After all...

...you accept yourself as you are.

[sysba]

Give me the CalEdith content :fireelmo:

(Whatever your favorites are, sleep beckons me otherwise I might be more specific, but also I kinda just want all of em 🤷🏻‍♀️😂) (i am gonna ask specifically for 51 tho bc it’s adorable :>)

well how can i say no since this was my plan all along :3 i wanna do all of them but for now,,, i'll answer the numbers ending in 1 (no reason this is all random sdjdsksdjk)

1. Who would end a heated argument by defending their actions with ‘because I love you!’? Judie correct me if I'm wrong but this is more of an Edith scenario, and it fits her perfectly. She needs some kind of push to say 'i love you' so an argument would provide that. And, thinking every action is justified when she loves someone? That's 101% her, she's aware of the selfishness of it all but when it comes to the people she cares about and keeping them safe, there's very little she wouldn't do despite any consequence it might have on her or them. Cal is better at sacrificing what he wants and leave others more 'freedom' in this sense, I'd say!

11. Do either try to hide their emotions if upset? Can the other still tell? 💀🤣 We always laugh about this because they're so bad at expressing emotions and always always hide their feelings (though for different reasons) but they're both extremely perceptive people who put the other before everything and everyone else, so... they always Notice™

21. Who would get into a fight to defend the other's honor? Who tends to the other's wounds? Cal tends to avoid fights but is also very protective of Edith; I think, because he knows she can fight her own battles, he'd let her handle it as she prefers and support her when she needs it? Would tend to her wounds (lovingly). On the other hand, it doesn't matter that Cal can handle it on his own and he doesn't care; Edith is gonna put the fear of god into whoever tried to hurt him<3 Would tend to his wounds (angrily, but also lovingly).

31. Can they sit side by side without touching the other or are they handsy? (lacing fingers, touching knees, etc.) They're just so good at like, sharing space so silently and unassumingly? Neither of them really needs much, existing together makes them happy and they're very comfortable with each other even when it doesn't look like they're spending quality time together/each of them is doing their thing. That said, I think once the cards are on the table and they've stopped being idiots, they'd eventually realize that now it's okay for them to be close and they don't have to keep a distance anymore. And touch would become a habit, even if they wouldn't notice most of the time. Lot of leaning against one another, shoulder-to-shoulder when they sit next to each other, falling asleep on the other, casual hand touches, and just generally seeking physical proximity out of reflex.

41. Which one would take their jacket it off and drape over the other one because they were visibly shivering? Both but let's be real, Cal would dress accordingly while my silly rabbit insist she's not cold even though she's shaking like a leaf. Yeah. He's gonna give her the jacket that she allegedly doesn't need because she's not cold, and he's gonna look so soft and happy about it that she begrudgingly accepts because ugh he's so cute and she looks kinda hot in that jacket... 🤷‍♀️

51. What’s a non verbal way they say I love you? Prepare food for the other to make sure they eat, doing chores the other hates, tricking the other into resting, physical affection, clothes sharing, doing the other's hair/washing their hair, drive the other around, make coffee, kill people, etc...