#obviously not yours if the name is anything to go by!!!!

[luveline]

hi jade! could i request a luna lovegood!reader x eddie munson blurb? maybe him feeling protective over her in a situation? thank you! congrats on 46k :)

You have a soft touch.  

“Hello,” you whisper, scratching your nails into the soft underside of your new cat’s chin, “hello, baby Teeby. You’re back.” 

“You gotta stop leaving the window open.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say, scratching right where the cat wants it, his little black face twisting into your touch. “Really, Eddie, I don’t mean for him to get out, but you’re right, of course you are. I have to remember he’s here now. Anything could’ve happened when he got out.” 

He didn’t mean for you to take his reminder so hard. “Hey, it’s okay. I found him, didn’t I?” 

You hadn’t noticed the cat was gone. To an outside observer you seem irresponsible, but Eddie knows the details of the story. You opened the window to the bedroom to let fresh air inside, then someone knocked on your door and you left to answer while the cat escaped. 

You’re new to cats. You didn’t realise he’d be eager to leave, but luckily Eddie caught him scratching at the wall of your house trying to get back up again. No harm, no foul. A lesson learned. 

“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you, baby Teeby,” you murmur, leaning down to kiss his head gently. “I’m sorry, I’m glad you’re okay.” 

“I’ll get you a screen for the window, alright? That way you can keep it open.” 

“You will?” 

“Babe, I love you. Getting you a screen for your window is the least I’d do, right?” He holds your cheek, kissing you while you’re not kissing the cat. Your lips are balmy, and you smell like lavender up close. 

“I keep forgetting he lives with me now, I just assume any noise he makes is my ghost upstairs.” 

“He seems like he’s settling in fine.” He means great. Baby Teeby couldn’t be happier, you’re a good match for one another, affectionate creatures with gentle dispositions. Teeby didn’t do much when Eddie grabbed him besides meow. “Do you like him?” 

“I love having company when I miss you, honey,” you say, catching his eye as you say that pet name. He never imagined somebody could look at him and think something sweet like that. 

“Yeah, but do you like him?” he asks with a laugh, nudging you over to squish next to you on the bed. 

“Obviously I like him, he’s gorgeous. His heart is beautiful. He reminds me of you.” 

“He’s not evil when my back is turned?” 

Your laugh is high-pitched from the suddenness of it, then everywhere. If you laughed like that in public you’d draw stares. “He sleeps on my chest like a baby, Eddie, he’s just like you.” 

Eddie shakes his head. “Alright, awesome, you like him, can you stop with the comparisons?”

The cat slinks from under your loving hand into Eddie’s lap. He looks up at Eddie, so different from you, rougher and louder, and he squints his yellowy eyes. 

“Hi, baby Teeby,” he murmurs. 

Teeby relaxes, tail unfurling against Eddie’s chest. 

“See, you’re twin flames. You’re like my two soulmates.” You tap his jaw with the flat of your fingernail. “Though he’s a little more handsome.” 

“I never shoulda got you the damn thing.” 

[fairyrcts]

taking what's not yours , c.s.

by fairyrcts contents - intended lowercase , 3rd person , use of y/n , oral (m recieving) , cursing , theft , praising

y/n walked into high end jewelry store. her hair was up in a gold clip, her hand, neck and fingers dripping in gold as well.

it was clear to see she had money. not her own, obviously. she looked like your typical 'daddy's money' girl.

she browsed around the store, the bell ringing once more as a signal that someone else had walked in.

y/n paid no mind to it as she took a pretty good pendant in her hand. she looked around quickly before shoving it in her valentino white bag.

continuing to 'borrow', as she put it, she put more and more simple, gold jewelry into her purse. when turning around from the small earring stand, she'd accidently bumped into a man.

"anyone ever taught you not to sneak up on a lady like that?" she remarked quickly. at the sudden scare, she'd let the tight grip go on her purse as it loosely hung on her arm.

the new angle of the bag gave chris a good look into it. it was packed with stolen things that were all once on display.

"anyone ever taught you not to steal?" chris cheekily smirked at the girl in front of him.

her eyes went wide and her cheeks turn a shade of light pink. "what makes you think i'm stealin'?"

"oh, i dunno, maybe the tons of jewelry in your bag or the fact i just witnessed you." he rocked himself from heel to toe with his hands in his pockets.

"i- look, don't say nothin'. please." y/n rolled her eyes and pretended to be annoyed to hide her nervousness.

"why should i, though? i mean, i don't see why i shouldn't do the right thing. do you?" his smirk reappeared on his face before y/n scoffed.

"i'll do anything, just- please?"

"anything?"

damn it, she probably shouldn't have said that.

"well, i'm not a prostitute, asshole. just, whatever. what do you want?" she was clearly done with this. she mentally cursed herself for even getting caught in the first place

chris chuckled at her comment slightly. he grabbed her hand and began walking.

"what's your name?" he asked the girl who clearly didn't want to be in this predicament.

"y/n, why?"

"so i say the right name while ya blowin' me." he turned his head and shot her a wink. y/n looked outright disgusted.

but she wasn't complaining. not that this was her preferred method of blackmail, but she didn't mind it.

chris dragged her to one of the family bathrooms in the mall and locked the door behind them.

"a family bathroom, how cliche." she spoke as she looked around the small, square room.

"ya alright with this?" chris asked before he started to unbuckle the belt that was holding up his jeans.

"yeah, i don't care." she rolled her eyes while he slipped out of his pants, throwing them to the side.

"on ya knees."

"i'm sorry, and get my knees black from this floor? i don't think so." y/n crossed her arms, a pout on her lips.

"wanna try that again? less bratty this time, hm?" he spoke lowly, a smirk playing on the boy's lips.

she rolled her eyes once more. ultimately, she got on her knees, her dress riding up her thighs as she kneeled.

chris smiled down at her as he tugged off his calvin klein boxers, his dick sticking upright.

y/n's went wide, blinking a few times to make sure she wasn't seeing thing. she slowly began swirling her tongue along his tip, chris's head going back.

she removed her lips to spit on the boy's cock, using her hand to stroke it even. she put what she could fit into her mouth, her hand going up along the rest of his shaft.

chris's hand instinctly moved down to her hair, grabbing a handful and gently tugging it. moans started erupting from his mouth at the feeling of her lips bobbing on his length.

"ooh, fuck. y/n, damn it!" his bottom lip quivering as he spoke small praises to the girl.

his movements became more aggressive as he thrusted his hips in her mouth and yanked her hair while she sucked him off.

chris's sentences were now incoherent. y/n had tears streaming down her face as she still looked up into his lustful eyes. she gagged on his cock before he came without warning.

the warm liquids filled her mouth while she swallowed them down, a gasp leaving her mouth afterwards.

y/n stood up and brushed her knees off, chris catching his breath as he leaned against the wall behind him.

"you should start stealin' more often." he spoke, breathless.

"you should start catching me more often." she smiled up at him.

"i'm chris, nice to meet you." his words caused the two of them to laugh.

[karlachismylife]

I Need a Hero

Yup, I wrote for the second most voted again. Why? Cuz I'm a danger to myself. Also because Gaz is pretty boy and I want to kiss him.

CW: gn!civilian!reader, probably not very realistic, toothrotting fluff for the pretty boy and the heroic prince Kyle.

(Title obviously from Bonnie Tyler's "Holding Out for a Hero")

You're beaming so bright, one could think it's you who's getting recognized and rewarded today - ironically, not for any of the terrifying world-saving missions, but for something small, an act of service Kyle didn't probably even notice in a chain of his usual bravery and heroism.

You noticed though. Every little thing, every feat and deed were carefully catalogued in your memory, even if he couldn't tell you anything besides "Was a rough one" or "Barely even did anything, angel". And today, finally, noticed others - Kyle, your Kyle, your sugarplum handsome pookie bear Kyle, was getting an award today. A nice, shiny reminder of all the good he's done to protect you and the country.

Of course he couldn't let you miss the ceremony. A few days prior you went shopping together and he bought you a nice outfit to match his, nothing too lavish, but definitely tasteful. Made you show it off before purchasing too, twirled you in front of the changing room and dropped a kiss on your knuckles.

To him, it's mostly a formality and a reason to show you off a little, but to you this whole day is about him. About that amazing, skilled man finally getting at least one percent of the praise he actually deserves. Sure, you know that his righteous Captain never takes his Gaz as granted and Kyle himself doesn't probably care for anyone else's recognition besides Price's and yours, but isn't it nice to have all these uniform-clad gentleman hold a ceremony in Sergeant Garrick's name?

"You look very good, handsome," you whisper quietly to him as you both stand in the narrow service corridor before you'll have to part your ways - Kyle has to come out on stage with several other officers getting awarded too. With loving hands, you adjust his collar and sigh dreamily as he catches your hands and kisses your fingertips. "Can I- oh," you have to scoot over a bit, a couple of stage workers shufflng through the narrow passage with some cables.

Kyle rubs your wrists gently, returning your attention back to him, and gives you a questioning nod, raising his eyebrows.

"You were saying, love?" You blink, once again (it'll never stop) struck by his beautiful features, and shake it off only when people start applauding out there.

The ceremony is about to begin.

"Just wanted to kiss you," you finally remember what it was that occupied your mind (as it always does, to be honest). Kyle's dark eyes sparkle with glee, but he still steals a look behind his shoulder, checking in case someone's out there looking for him.

"Here, right now?" he asks, turning back to you, and it's your turn to look puzzled. Chuckling, Kyle pecks your forehead quickly and lets go of your hands with visible whistfulness in his eyes. "Thought you'd like for me to give you a big smooch straight from stage, angel. Show everyone who's my biggest supporter."

And just like that, with a wink, he hurries away, leaving you to find your way back to your seat, cheeks warm with the imaginary picture of Kyle leaning from stage to recieve your congratulatory kiss. Can you really say no to that?

[brokenheartsrecords]

track four: to break an engagement words: 0.8K tw: none taglist: @lxvebelle , @that-daughter-of-hephaestus find track three here note: not really my favourite piece of work, but it does set the scene

HAWTHORNE MANSION IS COLD AND uninviting. You’re going to marry into this house, this family, but it doesn’t look like it might be yours.

In your mind, you know that you can make the house look like yours, but you’re looking for reasons to not marry Grayson. It’s not that you don’t want to.

It’s just that you don’t know him.

He’s perfect in the limited societal events he chooses to attend; doesn’t drink more than one glass of any drink provided, his name never appearing in gossip sheets. There is nothing about him that could possibly be a valid enough reason to break off the engagement.

Unless he has a secret double life that might endanger your own life. 

You haven’t forgotten the voices you heard in the walls of your home, talking about your wedding to Lord Hawthorne, malicious sounding and rather creepy. 

You want to tell your mother about this, you really do. You would’ve done it, too, if she weren’t so excited that her daughter was getting married.

In the drawing room of Hawthorne House, Grayson sits beside you, careful not to let any part of his frame touch yours.

There was one problem about him.

He was too damn gentlemanly.

Skye and your mother are talking about the marriage banns and the engagement festivities on the other end of the room, pretending as though they really don’t care about anything that you and Grayson might talk about.

You should tell him that you hadn’t orchestrated this entire engagement, but he looks cold.

Just like the house.

You take a deep breath. You open our mouth.

And right at that moment, he leaps up, walking away from the seat like it burned him.

You’re confused, and you notice that Skye and your mother have stopped talking, instead choosing to look at Grayson.

He smiles, and it looks rather forced, and when he looks at you, his hand extended, you’re sure that he’d do anything to get out of this engagement.

“I was hoping if you’d like to take a go at the hedge mazes.” He begins. “You weren’t able to see much the last time you were here.”

Oh God, he absolutely hates you.

Still, you plaster a smile on your face and take his hand. “Of course, my Lord. Is it alright if we do so, Mama?”

“Oh, yes. I doubt Ms. Skye and I have any qualms about this. Do take a maid with you.”

You roll your eyes. “Sure, Mama.”

With a maid trailing five steps behind you, Grayson Hawthorne leads you into the maze, and your head supplies you with a mental image of him killing you when the maid is lost in the hedges,

You snort.

“Something funny, Madam?” He seems less on edge here in the maze. 

“Just… imagining,” you say.

“Imagining.”

“Hmm.”

Uncomfortable silence takes over the space the two of you stand in. 

“This is ridiculous.” You start. “You obviously do not want to marry me,” you untangle your elbow from his, “and I don’t want to marry you—and please do not take offense to that, Lord Hawthorne, I’m sure the two of us would rather wed people we know instead of people we do not.”

He looks surprised, and opens his mouth. You keep going on, not stopping at all.

“And the worst part is we can’t break the engagement or my honout will be lost, damn it all.”

“...you do not wish to marry me?” He asks, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think he was a bit offended.

“I don’t.” You confirm. 

He nods. “And you wish to break the engagement?”

“Yes.” 

He nods again. “As do I. Of course, it is not because of you—you do seem like a rather lovely person. I’ve just never felt the wish to marry.”

You grin. “Glad that this was sorted. Now, how are we going to break the engagement?”

Grayson smiles at you, one of those half smiles that you’ve always found attractive. “We drag society into this love affair.” He states, as though it was obvious. 

“Pardon?”

“Once they notice that you and I have no feelings towards each other, word will spread. It will reach my mother, and then yours. They, in turn, will be pressured by our delightful society to invalidate this marriage out of sympathy for you.”

“And if that doesn’t work?”

“We stage an extremely heated argument where you can scream falsehoods about me to my face and announce that you do not wish to marry me. Truthfully, this method is far more effective; but it would have me lose my dignity.”

The maid catches up behind you, and your elbow is intertwined with his again. “What do you say, my Lady? Are you ready to fool the proper English society?”

He looks straight in your eyes, and there’s a challenging glint in his. “When am I never?”

[aladaylessecondblog]

Red Mountain Waffle House, pt. 14

Author's Note: Angst & misunderstandings

-----------------------------------

Somehow or the other she had been drawn to the Shrine of Azura. Before falling in with that group of former slaves in Zebabi, Sadara had looked into where the shrine was, and figuring Azura would have some answers, headed over that way.

The priests sold her some glow dust, and she made the offering as the sun was going down.

"Azura," she said, "I don't ask for you to do me any favors - I just want answers. With the prophecies, and all that - was I the Nerevarine? I mean clearly I'm not fulfilling them, so did I have ANY purpose here? What was it?"

There was a pause, a slight breeze, and then a voice in her mind.

"You have served the purpose I set out for you."

"What purpose?"

"You ensured Nerevar's bones were brought to Dagoth Ur." A pause. "There have been many Nerevarines, and you were meant to be the last. So many have failed, and you remain...the cycle repeated, in my vain hope one of you would follow the prophecies. But there have been too many failures - and so I have chosen a different path."

"What path?" Sadara felt her stomach drop. You have served your purpose.

"Nerevar will surely follow my will and destroy the Tribunal; he was ever faithful in life, and I see no reason that his loyalty should fail now. I am glad of your assistance, but your part in this is done."

She turned away without saying anything more.

Fuck Azura. Fuck everyone...except maybe Jiub.

Nothing had changed. Nothing would ever change.

----------------------

Traveling about and killing cliffracers was okay for a week or so, but on using her name in Molag Mar, she'd drawn some attention. The healer had looked up, and gone, "Sadara? What're you doing here?"

"Working," she said, "Cliffracer plumes sell for a decent amount."

"You're working? Why?"

"For a living? Why does anyone work?" she shrugged.

"There are some people looking for you--"

The moment her wounds were closed she left, and bought a cloak to cover herself a bit better on the way out. Why would they be looking for her? They had the bones, the moon-and-star, the heirloom ring of Dagoth Ur's. What more could they want her for? Gilvoth had made pretty clear she wasn't wanted there. But then something else occurred to her--the Tribunal temple would probably want to see her gone still, despite her showing no inclination to fulfill the prophecies. She'd handed over Nerevar's bones, they might have linked her to the one who'd stolen the bones in the first place...b&e, theft, some sort of heresy charge, that'd put her away for a while. And that was if the ordinators didn't outright kill her.

Whatever goodwill she'd built with Vivec when she'd done that favor of getting the tattoo was surely burned away now...and Almalexia, she was another thing entirely.

She left Molag Mar, and thereon stopped using her name.

When she cleared the slavers' cave of Zebabi and freed the khajiit and argonians, they had asked her name. She'd thought for a moment, and said, "Nammu."

Finding out about Fyr's offer to pay for blood had come as a result of one of the argonians, Chalureel, who'd said the slavers had dragged him up to Fyr to give his blood. He was some rare type or the other, and seemed overwhelmed with the idea that the sum paid to the slavers would go to him now.

Sadara agreed to stay with them until they all figured out what they'd do with their newfound freedom. The presence of a Dunmer could handwave some things away, avoid some types of trouble...

The morning after she cleared the cave she asked Chalureel to go up to Tel Fyr with her.

"It's a city unto itself," he said, after giving a description of the route they'd need to take, "There's a lot of things there we could get ahold of, especially if your blood's a type they want."

Fyr was a reclusive sort, but those that worked for him obviously needed places to stay, and a tiny medical school of excellent reputation had popped up, and then there were all the services THEY needed--

The point being, there would be plenty of places to hawk what they didn't need of the slavers' things, and to buy what supplies they needed. She'd sold enough bandits' gear after coming to Morrowind to have a reasonably good discerning eye on the most common stuff. Daggers, leather armor, spell scrolls.

"Alright, so do we have enough water here? Not the salt kind," Sadara said, "How many bedrolls do we need to buy? You all deserve to sleep on more than just the ground like you've been doing."

A list was put together of the things they'd need, and while she and Chalureel were going to Tel Fyr, the rest would head to the shore to do some fishing and foraging.

"It rains fairly frequently here," Chalureel said, "So a rain barrel might be a good idea. The water in the cave...is not exactly clean, because of those slaughterfish the--slavers were keeping. We could boil it, but..."

"We can buy some bottled water at Tel Fyr and get a rain barrel, or something like it, and boil the water here if it's absolutely necessary. There's some cooking supplies here, so we've got a pot for it...we've got the list, so let's head out."

The blood donation didn't take all that long. It was mainly filling out the forms and negotiating for things other than money that took extra time.

In exchange for a reduced payment she managed to wrangle out getting a couple potions and to be taught Restore Health with the first donation of her own blood. Fireball she figured would be next - that would make the campfires a bit easier to start up. Then a frost spell, so they could have form up a crude refrigerator somewhere in the cave.

They were kept another hour and give some orange juice, and healed up just to be safe. Then they went shopping.

The rain barrel angle didn't pan out, but they got several jugs and bottles of water, as well as some dried fish, a couple kwama eggs, saltrice, and some shein. A box of rations from a surplus store. It felt like a wealth of food, what was in that box...

But the real treat came when she spent what she'd put aside for herself. It wasn't much, only twenty gold, but she got a new robe, the first bit of clothing she'd bought in ages that wasn't from a secondhand store.

And a green candle. There had been red ones. Smelling them had given a scent of cinnamon and memory of Jolene--Dagoth Ur, her mind corrected her. That look in the picture that had buoyed her for a little while, made her feel adored, what might have been the first stirrings of love, but which now--

Surely you understand it has always been Lord Nerevar that he wants?

The words reminding her that she was to stay in her place, that she was not to reach for anything better.

She put the red candle back and hurried along with Chalureel, whose own treat seemed to be four bags of cheese puffs. The remainder that they weren't saving went to a couple bottles of soda and some off-brand chocolate the others liked.

At last they headed back, and she thought that evening, on looking at what had been the slave pen and was now her room, that all things considered this was better than she'd had in a while, even if there wasn't any plumbing here.

It was a roof over her head, food in her stomach, and a safe place to sleep. That was all it used to take to keep her happy, and it would have to be enough now.

If she just kept believing it, maybe it would be true.

------------------------------------

When Jiub saw the golden-skinned mer approaching the Waffle House a week after the last sleeper, at first he wondered why an Altmer that clean was coming out here.

Then the door opened, and the new waiter dropped to his knees. "Saint Nerevar!"

"Rise," the mer, Nerevar apparently, replied, "I have--to speak to your cook."

"Of course, of course." The waiter moved in close and said, "Be on your best behavior."

"Right." Jiub shrugged, and the waiter headed off to clean the bathroom, or smoke, or something - he didn't really pay attention. Once the man was out of earshot he looked to Nerevar.

"Is Sadara not here? The Sleepers keep saying she doesn't work here any longer."

Jiub scoffed. "And their word wasn't good enough for you?"

"Where is she?"

"She doesn't live with me anymore, if that's what you mean. Do you want coffee? Eggs?"

"Where--where did she go?" Nerevar's voice was more insistent now.

"As if I'm going to tell you."

"Look--" Nerevar's tone went stern, in what Jiub supposed was his military-leader voice. "--you need to tell me where she is."

"Why should I do that?" Jiub turned, and kept one hand in his right front pocket, where he'd moved his box cutter to. "Huh? The volcano man not quite what you expected?"

"There has been a misunderstanding--"

"Misunderstanding!" Jiub laughed harshly. "Oh yes, Sadara didn't even come home afterwards, I'd say it was more than just a fucking--get out. Now."

"Who do you think you are?"

"The man who knows where she is. So I suggest you keep your hands to yourself. I fucked up your wife, I can fuck you up too."

"She's not my wife anymore, I don't--this isn't about her. I want to know where Sadara is, so I can bring her back to Red Mountain."

"What, to be mocked some more? Do you need a punching bag so you don't get bored?"

Nerevar glared in a way Jiub assumed was meant to intimidate him. It didn't work.

"That was never what was intended."

"Really, what was intended? Because whatever was said was bad enough she didn't even repeat it to me, and she tells me everything. Just said it was nothing we hadn't heard before." Jiub crossed his arms. "Why should I tell you fucking anything when you're the reason she's like this?"

"The person she talked to--did not--" Nerevar groaned, and buried his face in his hands before looking back up. "How do I convince you I don't mean her harm? I only want her to take the place that's rightfully hers now. I thought--we hadn't seen her, so we assumed she must not have been interested in being Lady Dagoth. Then one of the Sleepers let us know she DID show up, and we simply hadn't been told about it."

"Yeah, she delivered your bones," Jiub replied, "You'd think you'd be more grateful."

"I didn't KNOW! One of Voryn's brothers turned her away and--look, I just want to correct the situation. I want to make things right. Then you won't see me again."

"It's her seeing you I'm worried about. Why should I trust you, eh? Give me one good reason not to hurl your ass out like Jazz." Jiub thought for a few moments, then cracked his knuckles. "Tell you what...if you kick my ass well enough, I'll tell you where she is."

A pause.

"Are you game for it? Or are you a big golden chicken?"

-------------------------

The kagouti hunt was not going very well.

They had enough to eat, but Sadara had headed out into the blight storm since she was immune to the blight, saying it'd probably be a good idea to get some fresh meat anyway. The slaughterfish in Zebabi's water (Gish, oddly enough, seemed to think of them as children) were happy enough with scraps, but...leftovers surely weren't healthy for them

In reality she preferred not to while away her time in Zebabi. Even with the others around it was too quiet, and if things were too quiet she'd start thinking.

And if she started thinking, she'd just end up making herself miserable. No. Better to get outside and actually DO something, until she was tired enough she'd go right to sleep when she got back.

But the blight winds were thicker than usual--or at least, thicker than she was used to--and she found herself stumbling along the paths, groping along the rocky mountainside to keep a sense of which direction she was going in. She was almost afraid to pull out her phone. Suppose it blew away, in all this wind?

Sadara took another step, leaned harder when a gust of red ashy wind blew right in her face--and fell into darkness.

"FUCK!" she screamed, and thanked any gods who might be listening that she'd had the Fyr people teach her the Light spell last time she was up there.

It looked like she'd fallen into some kind of hallway...a long corridor, there were visible doors along it. She'd think it was a dwemer ruin if it wasn't for the tombish look about it, and the lack of brass accents.

She set her quiver down to mark the spot, and then headed down the hallway. The doors opened, and she saw ash pits, with offerings covered in dust. Clearly, no one had been here in ages and ages.

A ghost or two rose...but gave her only a look before meandering about the room.

Probably a really old Hlaalu tomb.

She'd been to one or two tombs and left small offerings, but had never actually seen the ghosts wandering around like people had reported. Here, though...they seemed to be everywhere here. Some of the older looking ones ignored her, while a young one or two followed her for a while. Most vanished when she looked at them directly.

Then she came to a larger room--and the ash pit here was much, much larger than any of the others she'd seen.

As with some of the others, a ghost rose from the ashes.

This one, rather than looking at her and then quickly away, fixed her with a keen gaze that didn't once break away.

"Who are you?"

"My name's Sadara," she said, "I'm sorry, I fell into the tomb from the outside. I don't mean any disrespect. ...though I assume you must all know that already, since no one's attacked me."

"You must have married into the house," the ghostly woman said. "There is no other explanation."

"This isn't a house Hlaalu tomb?"

A snort.

"Oblivion, no. This is a House Dagoth tomb."

Sadara immediately started to back out of the room. "Well, I guess...I guess I'm technically one of you, but the marriage...isn't going to last."

"Isn't going to last? When the one you married has been rude enough not to bring you here to introduce you to the family..."

"It wasn't the one I married, but one of his--brothers that told me." Sadara shrugged. "I married him drunk, his brother said it was a mistake, and with Nerevar there again--look, I'll get out of your hair."

"No, no, stay. Stay, tell me what happened. The man you married, was it one of Voryn's brothers?"

"It was Voryn himself, and one of his brothers to--why am I telling you? It's probably getting annulled soon, I won't be part of the House for much longer."

"You shouldn't let yourself be shoved out so easily. Any Lady Dagoth should be strong enough to form herself a place. Voryn's brothers have ever been overprotective of the family honor and nobility--they tried to push off Nerevar, and now they are trying to push off you. With the same tricks, I imagine. But just like Nerevar, you--"

Sadara turned and bolted out the door, back down the hallway, ignoring every attempt by the ghosts she passed to call her back.

Just like Nerevar.

Just like Nerevar.

All she wanted was to escape that name, to escape his shadow, but every attempt seemed to deepen the trap she was in.

How long do I have to live in his shadow?

-----------------------------

The blight storm hadn't let up in the least by the time she returned to the cave--and with her arm raised to protect her eyes she didn't nothing the ordinator standing just inside the cave. He stood straight and pointed his spear at her when she approached.

"Who are you?"

"S--Nammu, I live here!" Sadara corrected herself, "Don't tell me it's been seized!"

"Not seized. ...temporarily commandeered," the ordinator said, "Go inside...but there are more of us in there, and if you step out of line you'll be dealt with."

Great, she thought, just great. As if I needed more problems right now.

She went on inside, noting there weren't that many extra ordinators inside, or rather, not as many as she expected. Nuralg was the first to see her, and shook her head on being told the hunt hadn't gone well.

"This one could have told you it was a bad idea to hunt in blight winds. The only thing one can catch out there right now is a blight disease. Dinner will be ready in a bit...but there is someone occupying your room. You'll have to have a chat with her."

The her in question was entirely a surprise. No sooner did she open the little door (which was flanked by two more ordinators) than she laid eyes on--

"Queen Barenziah?"

"Sadara!"

Both were equally surprised to see one another. Sadara walked forward, trying to think of how to not explain the situation to her.

"What are you doing out here?" was the queen's first question.

"The job didn't pan out. What're you--this doesn't seem the kind of place you'd frequent." Sadara gave a faint smile.

"I was making a trip to Tel Fyr for an injection...I've got something called rheumatoid arthritis, and I would far rather have the doctors do it than trust the job to a maid or to my shaking hands. The blight storm grew stronger while we were trying to sail by, and...well, we took shelter here, not knowing anyone had already made it a home."

"It's not too bad here, provided you fluff your pillow up well enough. And have a good bedroll. Maybe it's a bit too quiet, that's my only complaint."

"Besides not having running water?" Barenziah laughed slightly. "It reminds me of the old days, but...I prefer not to go back unless necessary."

There was a pause, and for that silence Sadara thought that no more would be said.

But of course, she would later think, she could not be so lucky.

"Hunting cliffracers?" she asked, "I expected you could find another job waiting tables up in the north, with your experience."

"I wanted to get away from the region," Sadara replied quietly. She shrugged a moment later. "Lot of drama went on...Almalexia turned up, and there was...a time I got very drunk, and...it's all behind me now."

Barenziah fixed her with a Look.

"What?" she asked, "I think I actually prefer living here over that shithole I was living in. It's by the ocean, it rains more often, and..."

No response.

"I do pay attention to the online discourses, you know," the queen mother started again, "And I can put two and two together."

"I don't want to talk about it," Sadara replied quickly. "Please, let's just talk about something else."

Literally anything else. She simply wanted to keep her mind off the Situation. Eventually that ache would peter out and everything would be as it was before. Everything went down the drain anyway, eventually this would too.

"Answer a few questions, and then I will speak no more of it. I already know about this infamous marriage of yours, and I simply want to know--"

"Do I have a choice?" Sadara slumped slightly.

A few questions and then this'd be over. Barenziah would leave, and she'd get on making the best of this place.

"Did you get thrown out?"

"Not out of my apartment, no, I just didn't go back. There wasn't much to go back for."

"And Dagoth Ur?"

"I haven't seen him since the night the wedding happened. When I visited the--that palace he lives in, all I saw was his brother. If I hadn't left he'd have put me out."

"You poor thing," Barenziah's tone was sympathetic, "This is what I was trying to warn you about. These men will use you and cast you aside the moment you are no longer useful to them."

"I...I brought him Nerevar's bones. Thought we'd have to talk anyway. But...I guess he didn't want to talk..."

You have served the purpose I set out for you.

She gulped slightly. "Anyway...I suppose you'll be staying overnight. We can feed the lot of you, but it'll be a bit tight...not what you're used to, I'm sure."

"We've got some stores of our own to add, if you're inclined to make a stew. Or if you're not, I like my entourage to be well prepared." There was a pause. "I apologize for pressing, but...if you'd like the marriage annulled, I'm sure--"

"No, let him live with the stain." The venom in her tone surprised even Sadara, and she shook her head. "The only revenge I can have right now is that my name is still linked with House Dagoth. He has Nerevar now, and he'll want to marry him soon, which'll mean he'll want my signature on the divorce papers."

She'd seen how easy it could be to get a divorce in Morrowind. Thirty days apart--and they were fast closing in on that number--no matter how short a time it had been since the wedding--with papers signed, and that would be that.

It could be as if it had never been.

"Maybe I can get a bribe out of it. They want to call me a gold-digger, maybe I should just quit trying, and...and give them what they're--"

She took in a sharp breath.

Barenziah's open arms was all it took.

Sadara sank into them, sobbing, and wasn't aware of very much else for a long while afterward.

Just this time. I will let myself be sad just this time. But no one else will get to see it. No one else.

[freesomebodybyluna]

today has been so evil so far if you go to sbux today you're going to hell

[gibbearish]

ik i talk abt high control groups kinda often but i do encourage anyone involved in discourse in any capacity to watch folding ideas' "this is financial advice" video, because a lot of what he says about the gamestop apes being a self-organizing high control group imo also explains the more toxic discourse tendencies, and i feel like most discussion around high-control groups on here focuses on the tradtional kind that has one or a few distinct leaders which makes it harder to draw parallels between the signs. so i think its important to point out that these kinds of groups can still create that same energy as a unit even if there isn't one specific person calling the shots

[future-crab]

I’m such a person who doesn’t care about blood relations that any time a storyline focuses on a character grappling with the realization that one of their relatives was evil and worrying that they’ll go down the same path it SUPER doesn’t resonate.

“The sins of the father will be passed down to his children” Skill issue. If I’ve got a problem with your shitty dad, I’m taking it up with your shitty dad.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Recent game related things .. hrmm...

[steviescrystals]

i seriously need to get a new job and start making money again asap bc i cannot keep living at home much longer it’s driving me insane

(wrote an entire essay in the tags without meaning to oops)

[stood-onthecliffside]

hi beloveds i am starting a new series ‘newsletter’ where i am mentioning five different artists every month with a note for them! (so many creative people on this silly website so less time!) (you can send me in your favourite artists! or even just blogs! and tag me in your stuff -> #hauntedbythelook)

@cellphonehippie the detailing jess (she/her) does is actually insane! i remember when i started following her blog i was so awe-struck with the theme and i absolutely adore the funky edits! she makes it look so easy and trust me it takes fucking ages you can check out jess shop here! and instagram!

@the1989vault cleo (he/him) is such a funny bestie in general and terrible speller (like me!) and the biggest fan you can ever get. but honestly his writing will make you sob laugh and have insane nostalgia pro tip: have tissue papers handy when reading his poetry! his writing will always be my favourite. you can find cleo's substack here!

@anervousmirrorball the amount of talent vee (she/her) has! i have always always been such a fan of her paintings which somehow carries the essence of the songs she makes it on. she makes posters like no one else they are so sharp and iconic,, from someone who struggles with making posters she is the goddess of it. you can follow her on instagram here!

@antiherogf is not only the kindest and the most supportive soul ever,, vio (she/her) is also the best at web-weaving, specialised in nostalgia, comfort and love it's no wonder her web weaving reminds me of home. she will at the top her hat bring you the most beautifully devastating words you can check my top two favourite web weaves by vio here! and here! also her substack here!

@bybdolan i am having following them for ages and amy (she/they/he) has never missed with any of his edit! she has always been so fresh with their ideas and the quality is amazing! their concept albums are so beautiful they make me cry. you can check out their instagram here!

[purpldawne]

actually wait that poll unlocked a fuckin memory and i feel like talking about it so‼️

( not tmi or anything but in case this gets long or you don't wanna read it im putting a page break here LMAO )

ok so on my 18th birthday, my grandparents REALLY wanted to go to dinner to celebrate. i didnt really wanna, but i got to dress up so i said fuck it. this was around when debates over trans women in sports were first brought to the mainstream ( as far i know ) right. so we're sitting there in the restaurant, im eating my cake, and my grandfather starts going off about how they're letting men compete against women and how unfair it is and shit. WHILE WE'RE CELEBRATING MY BIRTHDAY. IN FRONT OF ME. THEIR GNC GRANDCHILD. WHO REFERS TO HIMSELF WITH MASCULINE TERMS EVERY TIME YOU SEE HIM. LOUDLY. it's been two years and i STILL can't believe the audacity. like YOU invited ME out to dinner and start talking that shit?? if they weren't family and we weren't in public i would have told em to shut the fuck up

[thethingything]

also shoutout to the hospital for sending us a bunch of PDFs with information about preparing for surgery and what to expect, except the information was all generic stuff where most of it does't actually apply to wisdom tooth removal, so I had a huge panic attack where I nearly threw up because a bunch of the stuff mentioned in there is extremely triggering for us, only to then find out that stuff literally doesn't apply anyway, but now I feel like I have even less of an idea of what to actually expect because it's so hard to figure out which information does apply

[bumblingbabooshka]

'Parturition' is so brave for being the yaoi ship trope episode of Voyager. "Neelix and Tom Paris had a physical.....fight." Also continuing Tom's beautiful habit of loving both infidelity and child abandonment with all his heart. Also, wonderful out of context quote: "I had no right to push that pasta in your lap."

[ukulelegodparent]

It's always a wonderful experience to see recipes from another country that are also a cultural dish where you're from BC it has you feeling really anything on the spectrum from 'oh just like we do it here' to 'hm interesting take might try that' to 'excuse me you do WHAT now????' to 'Heathens! Heretics! How dare they! Tasteless folk!!!!' and of course there's also the occasional 'wait that is GENIUS! That sounds like it could make a dish I had to be FORCED to eat as a child edible or even enjoyable!!' and of course also 'why does your culture often have such good takes on food yet you guys also eat this shit that barely qualifies as dog food?'

[formulapisces]

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