#that if i wasnt there they would seek me out or theyd notice or theyd miss me

[earth-to-ezra]

another tag vent because ugh feelings

[bahrlee]

Suck the blood from my Wound

Enter: Raph the Womf

🦇🦇🦇chapter 5: Impossible🦇🦇🦇

The next day, the three girls were reported as dead due to…. Throat related injuries. They didnt go into much detail as to not disgust or trigger their viewer's, they just mentioned the basics---they were found in the woods with their throats ripped out, bitemarks present---but still. It left him a little nauseous, and nervous. They were only in kindergarten, and here they were, viciously mangled buy someone in the woods during probably one of the happiest day of their lives. He tried to connect Dook too the crime, that would so obviously point to him, but there was just something so off about it in the first place. Were vampire fangs that strong enough to pull out a little girls trachea? Mitzi would definitely think so, in fact he remembered she said so.

   Even though it was still offputting, he didnt let that ruin his day. He needed to get his house back to its former glory since that weird night. He found it hard to go on with his day, however, since there was an unpleasantness in the air that couldnt be ignored. Everyone all day was looking over their shoulders, hugging themselves, holding their children close to them as they walked down the streets. He has never seen a mother walk so quickly from him, a man with long blonde hair wearing cargo shorts a a shirt with flamingos on it. They were scared of any man, he guessed, since men always seemed to be the killers. Even ones who look like theyd surfed since they were toddlers. Which reminded him that he needed to surf again soon. Ever since Fatz left, he never found the motivation to hop on a board for awhile. But for now, today's goal: paint over the scratches on the wall. He was so happy it was only the paint that chipped, no actually wall damage, because he didnt know how to fix something like that. He wasnt good at fixing things.

   The inside of the store was just as somber. Mothers pulling their kids from the toy isle when they usually let them explore it by themselves, the newspaper wrack was completely empty, things were just so different. It was only one murder, and everyone was losing it, like Ted Bundy was on the loose. And it was only one murder. Well, three, but it was all done at once. Who knows what would happen when or if another one happened? Who knows what would happen if they found out that a possible culprit was a vampire? That was too scary to think about, so he stopped and went to go get him some paint. He didnt even know what to do about the carpet yet. 

   Heck, what was he going to do about anything anymore since the possibilities seemed endless, now that there was a vampire loose through town.

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    He stayed up late, but for the last couple days hes been staying up TOO late, trying to contemplate what he has learned. He just lived his life. Making a deal to become some sort of spy, getting himself involved in a rivalry between two different cryptids who treated it as though it were the civil war, except one of the sides wasnt even aware of what was happening and what the other was planned against them. 

   Just like he predicted, he didnt see him that much. For the first day, he once again had nothing to report to Mitzi. The next day, same thing. He hasn't seen him since their conversation at Roxys. She did return her part of the deal, providing the conversations you usually had with a friend. He even sat in the water with her, so she didnt have to be in such shallow places. That case if anyone walked by they wouldnt see the rest of her. They didnt get too deep, just stories, small talk, interesting things about being a sea monster and vice versa since even though she lived a double life she didnt exactly know too much, the normal stuff. She seemed a little upset he hasn't seen him, but it's not like he was seeking him out every single day. He wasnt a stalker. What a funny turn of events that would be though, if the HUMAN turned out to be the stalker instead of the vampire. That would be interesting. He hoped she didnt cut the deal off, and kept explaining to her why stalking is actually a bad thing, feeling shamefully desperate. But he couldnt help it, he had no friends.

   He crossed his fingers, however, that they would cross paths again, both to satisfy Mitzi, and to see him again. He was so torn, when he spotted him acrossed the room at a comedy club while out with Fatz, he didnt know if he should go up to him. 

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   He preferred to sit in the back of everywhere, appearently. Maybe because it was so dark, and secluded, that he wouldnt be called out by the comic onstage at this particular place. Although it felt so out of place for him to be anywhere in town, or anywhere around town, really. Maybe theres this whole council of vampires, and hes on a mission right now given to him by them. Maybe he just liked to hang out at relatively dark places, or examine the nature of mortals. Or…. Maybe he was looking for his next victim, adult and in the next town this time, to mix it up a little.

   His shoes were glowing this time. Similar to the vintage boots he wore, but this time the stars and crescent moons lit up. That was enough to mesmerize him. 

   "Whatcha looking at there, Beach?" Fatz asked, noticing his glances.

   "Well obviously that boy over there." Esmeralda answered him instead of Beach. That was the thing with her, she answered all of Fatz' questions, even when directed to him, or somebody else. 

   "Hes a new guy. Met him at the movies once." Beach explained.

   "Guess we didnt have to order you food tonight then," Esmeralda quipped. "You got yourself a nice meal right over there."

   "Esme, I tried to flirt with him, okay? It's like flirting with Wednesday Addams child if she had a baby with the Willy Wonka from Tim Burtons awful adaptation of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory." He angrily drank his coke. 

   "Maybe you're just a bad flirt, you know?" 

   "Oh be quiet, Esmeralda. Beach is fine. Hes charming!" Fatz retorted enthusiastically.

   "If you're so charming, go up to him. Say hi. Buy him a drink." Esmeralda advised.

   "He doesnt drink." Beach quickly reverbed.

   "Well now why doesnt he drink?"

   Because hes a vampire, future Mrs. Geronimo.

   "I dont know. I jus know hes not much for actually living in the moment you know, he just…." He turned and looked at him again, his head so obviously in the clouds. "....Kind of observes everything."

   "You always go for the types that just sit there and look pretty, dont you?" Fatz said. He always questioned his type. The very monotone, 'too cool for school' men who tended to be more introverted and less talkative, two opposites of Beach. He liked his conversations. He was one of the best people to converse with because he kept it going. But he always went for the guys who's social skills were a bit stale. At least that's what Fatz thought, the truth was hes been with men of all kinds, Fztz only saw the shy guys, who were much less sh the more you got to know them. Fatz just tended to hold onto first impressions a little longer than he should.

   "Shut up, quit acting like you know my type." He glowered.

   "Cant deny it, Beach." He shrugged.

   Some friend he was.

   Esmeralda checked the time on her phone. "Fatz, its 10."

   "Oh, what? Its 10 already?" He said.

   "Yeah! We gotta go Beach, we're sorry. We gotta get sleep so we catch our flight to Louisiana for my family reunion tomorrow." She said.

   A little mad that they were leaving, but understanding he had no control over it, he let them leave. He wasnt going to be too petty about it. Speak of Louisiana, however… he turned and saw Dook there, legs crossed, shows glowing---he still couldnt get over that, he wanted glowing shoes now---his eyes fixated on nothing.

   Now that he was alone, he could probably try to talk with him. Mustering up his courage, he stood up, forgetting how tall he was for a moment and feeling a bit clumsy, and walked over to him. He seemed to be really deep in his own mind, because when he said hello, he jumped.

   "Jesus christ!" He exclaimed. "What?!"

   He held up a hand and waved. "Hello."

   He exhaled loudly, giving him the stink eye, genuinely annoyed by his presence. "What the hell are you everywhere I go?" He spoke, putting emphasis on every word.

   "Just find it funny that we find each other everywhere."

   "No, you come up to me, say your shit, trying to get into my pants or whatever."

   These non-mortals sure had some big mouths on them. But he guessed if they cant even get along within their world, of course they dont put any care into their interactions with humans. Was this his life now? Getting yelled at by two overgrown leeches for the rest of his days?

   "No, I just came over here to say I like your shoes." He said. "You dont drink alcohol, but do you drink soda?" He recalled him drinking something at the movies.

   Dook pointed to the soda on the table. "Little too late for that, man."

   Dangit. 

   "Why are you so rude?" He asked him. "Why cant you just talk to me like a normal person without everything coming out of your mouth being a nasty comment? Why cant I just treat you nicely and be treated nicely back, huh?"

   Dook slightly smirked at him. "Ficety."

   Beach was a tad frustrated, but it only made him want to try harder. "No, you're ficety. I'm just trying to talk to you."

   "You a nice guy?"

   "No, I'm Beach."

   And he finally heard him legitimately laugh. He was surprised at how audacious it was, and how much it revealed about him---he was a pretty goofy person. He seemed to be one for jokes, and humor. "Oh my god, alright, you're pretty funny, you can stay I guess. Sit down."

   He obliged, feeling like he just achieved something impossible. 

   "So, Beach, if that's even you're real name, which I know it isnt, go ahead. Make this a speed date. Tell me a-a bit about yourself."

   "Um…. Well…. I like surfing, and writing---I was an english major, actually---"

   "Oh, interesting. Tell me something smart."

   His mind drew a blank.

   "Oh yes, wonderful. Did you uh, drop out or anything?"

   "No, finished all four years. First one in my family not to drop out to persue a career as a rockstar, actually." He babbled, just excited to be getting through to him in any way. 

   "Huh. Interesting. I never went to college." He stirred the straw in his soft drink, smiling modestly.

   "Did you drop out to become a rockstar?"

   He thought for a moment. "Eh, kinda just happened. My dad forced me to play in a band when I was a sophmore. Actually, uh, enjoyed it and decided to stick with it for awhile. After that, I sang with my sister for a bit, and then something happened, and now I'm here."

   "Huh." He knew what the thing was. He was immortalized. "Tell me about her."

   "She lives back home. Three kids. A bit older than me, that's why she already has three. School music teacher." He said.

   "Cool. I have a brother who's much older than me. Not as cool, kinda mean." He sighed.

   "Hm, not very close to anyone, are you? I always see you alone. Guess that's why you bother me a lot." 

   He shook his head. "Yeah, my one friend who was just here a moment ago left, and hes been drifting away a bit. Everyone else is a workmate or an acquaintance." 

   Dook pulled the sleeves to his shirt over his hands and placed them under head chin. He was so obsessed with the way he dressed he couldnt handle it. "No wonder you're up the new guys ass."

   Beach couldnt help be giggle. He was glad he was funny. 

   Dook reached over and grabbed one of those tiny pencils used to fill in Keno cards, and a napkin, and wrote something down. "Guess I'll amuse you for now." He slid it over to him. It was his number. 

   "Oh my god." He did it. It was out of pity, so obviously out of pity, but he got his number.

   And finally, the late night comedy club announced its next act, after a long while of radio silence. The emcee came on stage, everyone cheered, well except for Dook who just glared up at him---well not really glare, he just seemed to have a case of a resting tired face, which wasnt necessarily a bad thing, but it still looked funny---seemingly board of every comedy routines seen tonight.

   "Sorry for the delay everyone, we just had a minor difficulty with some of our guest comics tonight. But thankfully, one of them came prepared. Please everyone, give it up for Rolfe DeWolfe, and his no-so-friendly sidekick, little Earl Schmerle. 

   Once again everyone cheered accept Dook, who's eyes widened, a little stunned by his presence. The comedian, clad in a plaid vest and black undershirt, with a wacky voice and a yellow puppet on his hand, smiled and thanked the audience for being there.

   "I knew he was here." Dook murmured.

   "What---"

   "Beach." 

   "Yeah?" 

   He leaned down, and turned his shoes off. "Can we leave?"

   "Why?"

   His eyes were locked on the comedian in a strange, prey-like state. "Hes not that funny."

   It was very obvious it was not because of that reason, but of course he couldnt point it out. 

   He stood up slowly, creeping quietly (or as quietly one could walk in heels) through the dim room, as Rolfe and the puppet began their routine. Yes, Dook was actually correct, the routine was…. Meh. It made you smile, not laugh. But of course that wasnt the point if the whole thing going on right now, was it? He copied his moves, standing up and moving quietly, this time actually quiet because of the fact he was wearing actual shoes.

   Beach Bear copied him, slinking out of his seat and following him to the door. They slipped out, into the warm night. The way he just…. Stared at him. He was going to take note of that. If only he remembered the name of whomever was onstage. 

   "So um…. What are we doing now?" He asked him.

   "Ummm…. I dont really know." He laughed nervously.

   "What do you know about that person in there?" He asked. "Seemed a little more than 'hes not funny.'"

   He sighed. "You dont wanna know." He said.

   Beach had a few guesses.

   Dook shrugged and looked around, still a little alert. "We can just…."

   "Take a walk?" He guessed. 

   "I mean…. Why not?"

   The more time to get to know him.

🦇🦇🦇

   He dodged any personal questions, and the ones he did answer, he didnt go too deep into it. Simple, vague answers. No names of people, no small anecdotes, no detail. They did just meet anyways, of course he was valid for keeping most things for himself. Beach already knew things he was keeping from him anyways. He seemed a bit more anxious than usual, however, seeing that puppeteer onstage seemed to shake him a bit. Genuinely worried about how disoriented he seemed, he asked him if he were okay.

   "Yeah, I'm fine. If-if I go into it, itll just…" he trailed off.

   "Oh, okay. Just…. Making sure. You need to sit down or something?" 

   He shook his head. "I said I'm fine." He repeated. 

   "Like I said, just making sure." He sighed. 

   He hoped that not every moment between them would have some kind of stale silence between them. It was starting to get annoying at this point. 

 "Wait." Dook stopped, so he stopped, a little confused.

   Dook crouched down and turned back on his shoes. "There. Better." He smiled, as if those shoes were the source of his pride and joy. 

   "Whered you even get those shoes?" He asked him.

   "Goodwill."

   "Huh. Are they battery powered or something?"

   "Yeah. Batteries go in the heels." He said. 

   "You dress very cool."

   "Um…. Okay, uh, thanks I guess." He laughed modestly. "You dress like you play beer pong."

   He snorted, realizing it was entirely true. "But I'm serious. You're just… unapologetically bold in the way you dress. And I can tell you dress because you like it and not for attention, because you certainly dont seem like the type who likes all eyes on them." He explained. 

   "Well, yeah. Nobody can tell me what to wear, so…" he shrugged. "Many people think I'm a girl at first, but…. You know, whatever. I-I like it."

   "Same thing about the mullet?"

   He laughed again, covering his mouth shyly. "I mean…" 

   "It looks good on you though, not everyone can pull off a look like that."

   Dook shrugged, grabbing the long part of his hair. "Yeah. I guess."

   The streets were so serene when they were empty. Even though there was the abduction of three little girls who were found dead the next morning, and he might be standing next to the culprit, the night still felt so welcoming, and calm. Something about the street lights shining down on the sidewalk, the neon of the open signs in almost every window, the clearness of the night sky which he caught Dook glimpsing up at in awe once every few minutes. 

   "You like space?" He asked.

   "Yeah. When I was little I wanted to be an astronaut." He said. "When um… playing with the band I always said I was gonna play with them until I could go to space." He said. "Didn't happen, though."

   "Do you still wanna go there?"

   "I mean, yeah, it would be cool." 

   The way the stars glistened in his eyes as he looked up at them in complete amazement. 

   "I feel the same way about the sea. I wanted to go underwater, like, in a submarine, for my whole life, just to explore. Don't you think it's weird how we know our moon better than our sea?"

   He thought for a moment, looking a little hazed, maybe from the way the waning moon was shining down on them, distracting him from the real world. He seemed to be the type with an imagination. 

   "I can't believe every single one of those is a star up there. Every single one." Dook said. He began wiggling his fingers a bit in excitement. 

   He's never seen him impressed before. Maybe he should try and use space theme pick up lines to flirt, maybe then he'll notice him. But the only one he could think of was the classic your ass is out of this world joke, which he didn't think was a very cool one to throw his way. He might get punched in the face. He also was way too tired of thinking of something. These late night outings were really starting to get to him. It wasn't even that late out, compared to how late he usually stayed out.

   "How close were you to achieving your submarine dream?" He asked him.

   "I surf. That's about as close. I love it." He responded.

   "Ah. The closest I got was space camp as a kid." He ran his fingers through the bangs and his mullet.

   Beach put his hands in his pockets and kicked a rock into the road.

   "Didya try going into biology or something to get into the ocean?" He asked.

   "Oh no, my science grades were…. Not too good. I majored in english." He answered.

   "How old are you?" 

   "23." He said. "What about you?"

   Dook froze for a moment, thinking. Probably doing math in his head, which he probably wasn't very good at, from the way he snuck his fingers out to count. He didn't know why he was assuming so much from the little things, but he was.

   "21." He finally said.

   So he must've been 21 when he was turned into a vampire. And from the looks, it was in the 80s. Now he was wondering a lot. How did one even get turned into a vampire? He tried remembering back to Stoker's Dracula, Sookie Stackhouse, vampire chronicles, heck, even twilight. A bite? Excessive drinking of the blood? Canoodling with your partner, accidentally killing her, because vampires are apparently that strong (he hoped that wasn't the way, if anything that happened in twilight was true he'd probably run over to Stephanie Meyers house and drink HER blood)? All these questions he couldn't ask, because he didn't tell him. It was probably a very hard thing to tell in the first place. Mitzi was always incognito, and had a human end a close friendship with her once they found out about her secret, so he wasn't too surprised Dook was the same way. Mitzi was merely a teen, but Dook has been around for awhile---how many times was his heart broken by both partners and friends fearing him once they found out? 

   "So you're a drummer, right?" Beach asked. He couldn't be in his own head for too long.

   "Yeah?" He said.

   "Howd you get into drumming?"

   "Band. You know…. School band."

   "Huh, cool. I played Tenor sax."

   "So you like Rush and have a strong disliking towards cornets." He assumed.

   "Stereotypes, really?"

   He shrugged. "What? You know it's true."

   "Well then…. Since you're a percussionist I believe that you yell yeehaw any chance you get, have weak lungs, and have an affinity for Oingo Boingo."

   He looked to his side with a knowing smile. "I mean I do like Oingo Boingo---"

   "HA!"

   "What? You just proved my point!"

   They both started laughing, the feeling of their bond growing a bit stronger. 

   "What chair were you?" He asked.

   "Always like…. Second. Third. I'm not the best. And…. Lemme guess, you were first chair a-and got all the solos?"

   He shrugged. "We only had two in the top band, what can I say?" 

   He liked the constant laughter between them. It was a good sign, he believed. Laughter was an important step to any kind of relationship. If you couldn't see yourselves traveling the world as a comedic duo, what was the point? So his Hope's were set high, just as a love sick gay person should be. 

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   When they walked back to the club (both of their cars were there, they couldn't just walk home), Dooks goodbye was surprisingly hasty. Maybe he didn't want to encounter that guy that was here earlier, in case he was still loitering about, because his eyes carried the same alertness they did at the moment he spotted him. But he had his number now, an all powerful thing that Mitzi would be very happy to hear. He went to his car, very proud of what he accomplished, happy he finally got through to him enough to get to know a little more. When he had his hand on the handle, however, he heard something… interesting. A struggle of a woman was what he could compare it most to. He heard a male voice, one that wasn't Dooks, saying something. Remembering Dooks quick exit off of centerstage, he was inclined to follow the sound. He followed it to the side of the building, where he could clearly hear a woman's muffled screams. He could also hear the words from the other, currently disembodied voice, urging on whomever had her pinned.

   "You want to starve, Dook? You can't just not feed for three months then go purge on woodland creatures for the next week!" The voice scolded. 

   Against the wall, he peaked over the corner, and saw the sight of Dook with a terrified blonde against the wall, fangs out, the pure look of struggle, and willpower in his face as he bit his lip, as to resist his urge to plunge them into her neck. The other dude was the comedy man, mister Ralph whats-his-name (man no wonder he was performing in a small comedy parlor in a small town in florida), was trying to egg him on to make the kill. Dook opened his mouth, obviously starving, but unwilling to bring harm upon the poor, unsuspecting patron, and turned away, dropping her to the ground. She shot up and scrambled away, probably scared for life. He turned back around the corner, hoping he wasn't spotted. 

   "Come on, Dook!" Comedian guy huffed at him. "Why can't you just be like every other vampire planet? Why do I have to force I yoh human blood?!"

   "I mean…. ED?" He responded, scared but able to respond in his usual way.

   "You were turned into a vampire to get rid of that." He groaned, tired, but seemingly used to his sass.

   "Well that didn't work, did it---" there was a thump against the wall.

   He turned to peak again. This time it was Dook against the wall. He had a hold of him with his shirt. He pulled out something in his pocket, and from closer examination, he made out the classic---a wooden stake, fit to kill any vampire with a stab to the heart. He lightly placed it against his chest, Dook visibly shaking, and struggling with all his might. 

   "You'll reap what you sow, Dook. If you don't follow orders, if you don't keep yourself alive for the better of your kind, you'll pay." He threatened.

   Dook brought up his leg and kicked his stomach, the comedian losing grip on him and falling back, the stake falling to the ground.

   "My kind is human, got it? I'm not doing anything for a vampire, or a werewolf, or-or for anyone, really!"

   "Was human, Dook. You're one of us now, and you have to accept it. You do the duties bestowed upon you, I wouldn't be on your tail all the time!" He got up.

   "Fuck you." He replied. The comedian screamed and threw his fists at him, only smacking against the brick as Dook flew out of the way. 

   "I can't believe I was assigned to you, my god!" He seethed. 

   "Then LEAVE!" He shouted.

   "I won't, because I'm not disobeying my orders! It's my job to keep people like you in check and I'm sticking by it until the end of time, like what i'm supposed to do. I'm going to keep following you until you feed on humans, turn humans, and be grateful you died in our hands."

   They both stared at each other silently, eyes fixed on the other with intimidating adrenaline. 

   "If you don't, you're dead. And I'll make sure of it. I'll make sure you don't up and head out of town this time."

   "You wish."

   He grabbed him by the shirt again, and began pulling him to the front. 

   Terrified, he turned back around, eyes wide.

   Mitzi was gonna have a ball, hearing this.

[sulevinblade]

(Talesfromthefade) things you said when you were drunk, for the DWC?

OH MY GOD this was a little idea that got away from me in a big big way but I’m still pretty happy with it. For this and for “cafune - the act of running your fingers through the hair of someone you love,” from @contreparry! For @dadrunkwriting!!

Alistair/Leohta Aeducan, T for language, dumb suggestive jokes, and alcohol use, 4k+ words (awaaaay from me, I wish I had time to edit it but uh I spent the entire time writing it instead). 

On the cusp of the party’s visit to Orzammar, Alistair learns what kind of drunk Leohta can be, and shares a little lesson of his own. Light angst, serious fluff.

He finds her standing on the rocky beach, well away from the dim glow provided by the Spoiled Princess’s small windows. It takes a moment for Alistair’s eyes to adjust to the complete dark–the night watch Templar doused all the torches at the dock, as clear an indication as anything that no one else would cross Lake Calenhad tonight–but even if he’d had to follow her blind he could’ve found her by the sound.

Bloop.

Normally finding Leohta by sound means the clank or grind of armour, the grunts or barks of Leon, or even her rare laughter at something Zevran said (it was always Zevran making her laugh), but tonight the sound is completely unfamiliar. It’s still enough to guide him, though.

Bloop.

Last he’d seen her, she was swapping some of the coin they’d made selling things to the Templar quartermaster for three large bottles of deep pink liquid. It seemed a bit of a racket to Alistair, that they should collect the mages’ items as they cleared the Tower only to sell them to the Templars who would then in turn sell them back to the Mages, but surely if that wasn’t how the economy of the Circle usually worked, Wynne would’ve said something. That was Alistair’s hope, anyway, as he’d watched Leohta count the coins before they left, then again at the tavern’s bar. She’d tossed the bag back to him before collecting the bottles and heading outside, and he in turn had left it with Zevran.

Bloop.

“You have known our illustrious leader the longest among any of us. Has this always been a habit of hers?” Alistair squinted across the table, trying to determine Zevran’s game, but succeeded only in giving up his own. “You think I see this as a weakness I can exploit, but I would think even you would see that if I were going to do so, I would have done it by now and certainly would not draw attention to my plans by involving you.” His eyes only narrowed further–how does Zevran make talking down to him still seem so seductive?–but Alistair did sit back in his chair.

“I haven’t known her all that long, really, but I don’t think so. Why d'you ask?”

“My Antiva makes the finest wines in Thedas, so it is not uncommon to see those there who overindulge, but there are many types. Leohta, she is young and exploring her limits, yes, but she is also trying to drown things she does not want to feel. Her limits are low and the things she seeks to kill are very large. It is a dangerous combination.”

Alistair glanced again toward the door. Of course she hadn’t come back inside, that’d be too much to ask for, but what was he supposed to do?

“If it is too much for you, I will go after her, but she should not be alone.” Both of their chairs scraped back at the same time but Alistair was the first to stand, something that for some reason brought a sad smile to Zevran’s face. Alistair could only look at it for a moment before looking away.  "I know you do not think much of me, Alistair, and while that is entirely your loss, I do know that one thing we have in common is how much we care for her. Go see to her, my friend, before her sorrows are not all she drowns. It is probably for the best; I am not much of a swimmer myself.“

Bloop.

So now here he is, approaching carefully, pretending to be taking in the constellations while Leohta hurls rocks at the water like she’s trying to knock the waves down before they can reach the shore. The night is perfectly clear; Kinloch Hold is merely a dark space in the sky where the stars are missing, but everything else is black sky and white twinkles. He clears his throat in case she somehow hasn’t noticed since he doesn’t fancy getting one of those stones thrown at him, but she only pauses for a moment before bending to search the area around her feet for another suitable candidate. One bottle is already empty, stuffed mouth down among the pebbles and into the sand underneath them, and as Alistair finishes closing the distance Leohta gives up her search and instead tips to land on her backside, legs out in front of her and a second bottle in her hand. He knows they’re not small but her stature makes them seem even larger; it makes the sight of her lifting one to her lips almost comical but the effect is spoiled by how long it stays there. Maker’s breath, Zevran was right when he talked about drowning.

"You planning on coming up for air any time soon?”

There’s a pop as she breaks the vacuum she’s created, then a dry laugh. She still isn’t looking at him. It makes his chest hurt, how badly he wants her to turn her head. “Breathe through your nose and you can use your mouth for whatever you want.”

“You’re spending too much time with Zevran, saying things like that.” Sighing, Alistair drops down crosslegged at her side and extends a hand. “What are you even drinking? I’ve never seen anything that color in a tavern before.”

“One of the Templars told me about it. I guess–” there’s a pause and she bunches up her eyebrows, apparently trying to put the pieces back together, “I guess the mother started making it as a tribute to her daughter and now of course it’s all very sad but the owner still makes it as a specialty. Sweet mead made with roses.” She passes over the open bottle, not bothering to wipe the top, and the expression on her face, like she’s sharing a secret, distracts him so much he can’t be bothered either. She wasn’t kidding when she said it was sweet but the roses are strong too, floral and delicate. He passes the bottle back after just one mouthful.

“I’ve never had a mead like that before. It’s very… different.” Leohta seems to accept that answer, nodding before lifting the bottle to her lips again.

“There’s nothing like this in Orzammar. Not even in the palace. Not even to make it. No honey, no roses, and when there is if you said you wanted to make something like this with it, you’d be laughed out of the kitchen.” She holds the bottle in front of her contemplatively, swishing the contents back and forth gently and tilting her head in time with the motion. Alistair’d almost think it was a contented sort of gesture but then she sighs and drops her head back, hair falling over her shoulders as she lifts the bottle skyward. “Nothing like that, either. No stars, no sky. Some of the caverns are so high the ceilings are invisible, but you still know they’re up there.” Slowly, she lowers the bottle but keeps her gaze fixed upward.

“Do you miss that?” It’s not something he’s given a lot of thought to but it’s hard to imagine. Even within the walls of the Chantry there were windows. The sky was always there, or not-there maybe, when compared to a ceiling of stone. Trying to imagine life without it or everything it held–the sun, the moons, the clouds and stars and birds–was virtually impossible, but here was Leohta not just imagining the opposite but living it.

“Dunno. I still don’t understand all this. What keeps it up there?” Her hand waves up at the stars but only briefly; even sitting down she’s unsteady without both hands to support her. “With the stone, you know that even if you can’t see the ceiling, it’s still held there by the stone. Nothing floats, nothing rises or sets.” Watching her profile, he can see the way it hardens as her train of thought jumps the track. “Nothing changes.”

He shifts a little, the pebbles grinding softly underneath him as he leans to try to catch her eye. “You changed.”

This time when she looks over at him, it gives him a chill. The stone she’s been so contemplative about has found a home in her eyes, the set of her mouth. They seem cold and stiff and almost lifeless, soft evening blue turned to lapis lazuli. Still beautiful but hard. “I left, and not by choice. You wouldn’t know how much I’ve changed, Alistair. You have no idea what I was like before we met.”

“I suppose not, but I do know you’ve changed in the time I’ve known you.” He keeps his voice softer now, speaking carefully to avoid that stony shift becoming somehow permanent. He hasn’t seen her look like that since before Ostagar, and to lose all the little ways she’s softened since then would be the greatest waste. “Do you miss that? Or her, I guess. Do you miss who you were before?”

Her laugh is a single humorless sound that moves her entire body, shaking her shoulders and flexing her stomach. “What does that matter? She’s dead. Worse than dead.” There’s venom in her voice but Alistair doesn’t flinch since for once he’s certain it’s not directed at him. He watches as Leohta stands, a wobbly process that involves repeated planting of hands and feet before she can push herself vertical. There’s a powerful temptation to offer her help but the set of her jaw makes him stay his hand, even if whatever effect she might be going for is already ruined by her own unsteadiness. “Nobody mourned her, nobody misses her, but it doesn’t change the fact that she’s dead. Bhelen killed her as sure as he killed Trian. The prince is dead, the princess is dead. Princess Aeducan is dead.” Her voice is raising, getting louder and more raw the longer she speaks, until finally she’s yelling out at the water. “Princess Leohta Aeducan, second born and best beloved daughter of House Aeducan, is dead!” She punctuates the last word by throwing the empty bottle into the water but it’s a bad throw, short and shallow. The bottle makes only a small splash then floats, reflecting the moonlight as it bobs its way back toward the shore.

Alistair rises, brushing at the back of his breeches, and makes his way up to stand beside her. He’s well within punching range, possibly a dangerous gamble, but if the way she’s carrying herself is any indication, it wouldn’t hurt very much right now. Plus, if she punched him, at least it’d prove she was feeling something. “I’d mourn her but like you said, I never did get to meet her. I’ve met Warden Aeducan, though, and I think she’s pretty great. Accomplished a lot, too.”

She’s bent back down and is sorting through the stones at her feet, tucking some in the bend of her other arm. Standing back up is a careful process but she’s shaking her head the entire time. “They’re not gonna think so.” Her voice is normal again but her profile is still stony.

Bloop.

Was this was he was like heading into Redcliffe? Of course, he hadn’t gotten drunk on sickly sweet mead to deal with it, but he’d had his turn as the prodigal royal-but-not-really. The main difference was he never wanted it, but she spoke so little of her life before the Grey Wardens. Was the crown of Orzammar what she’d really wanted? Not that it really mattered now. “Seems to me they had their chance to appreciate you and they blew it.”

“Oh, no. That’s the thing. Up until the end, they loved Princess Aeducan. That was the whole problem. She was too well-loved. Luckily, I’m not.” Leohta stares out at the ripples from her last throw but the fight’s going out of her. It ought to be a comfort, less risk of being punched, but instead it just hurts more. He curls his hands into fists at his sides to keep from reaching out, swallows the words that’d tell her just how deeply loved she is and not only by him, as much as he might wish it were so.

“We could go back to Denerim without going to Orzammar.” Aaaaaaaalistair, what’re you doooooooing? He ignores the voice in the back of his head, prepared to make an argument for mounting their assault without the help of the dwarves, but Leohta shakes her head. She’s drunk and she’s still got better sense than you.

“Just because I don’t want to go back doesn’t mean we don’t have to. Being a Grey Warden isn’t supposed to be fun, hasn’t been so far, why start now?” She seems to consider the matter closed as she turns her attention back to the rocks she’s holding, sorting through them as though looking for a particular one. They start to slip away and clack into the pebbles below and with a frustrated sigh she picks one, letting the remainder drop. “This is supposed to be, though. How the fuck do you do this?” Another windup, another bloop.

“Wait. What are you trying to do?”

“Make it…” She shakes her head, the word apparently lost, and instead makes a bouncing motion with her hand.

“You’re trying to skip stones… by heaving them at the surface of the water with all your might?” And there’s the punch he was waiting for, exactly as painless as expected. It’s not even hard enough to stop him laughing.

“I saw you and Zevran do it in Redcliffe before we left and it seemed to calm you down so I thought I’d try. You made it look easy, but if you’re just gonna laugh then forg–”

Alistair intercepts her before she can start to walk away. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just that I never would have guessed that’s what you were trying to do. I thought you were mad at the lake or something.” She’s looking up at him, wary, so he holds his hands up in innocence. “If you still want to try, I can show you.”

“No more laughing?”

“No more laughing. Warden’s honor.” When Leohta seems satisfied with his intentions, Alistair finally looks away from her, crouching down. “The first thing you need is the right kind of rock. It needs to be pretty flat and you want a triangle shape if you can find one, but flat will do for now.”

She’s crouching as well. “I thought it would be better with a round rock, like a ball.” She’s quiet, almost chastized, and Alistair has to duck his head and cough into his fist to hide the grin it conjures.

“No, that’ll break through the water and sink. A flat rock will bounce better. Something like these.” He shows her the three he’s found, all rounder still than he’d like but they should do the trick. She holds up a couple of her own and really, they’re no better, but they’re only for learning. “Yes, those will do. Now.” Alistair drops to his knees and crooks his fingers around one of the stones. “You have to hold it like this, because the important part is that you get it to spin. That’s what makes it skip.”

Leohta’s squinting at his hand, then she tries it out herself. Her hands are smaller so she can’t quite circle it the way he does, but Alistair hopes it’ll work out. “Like this?”

“Just like that. Now, the other trick is not to throw it up but to flick it. You want it to stay flat so you have to kind of–” He turns his arm out at the elbow and flicks the rock out onto the water. Four hops, not his best work but not bad.

When he looks back at Leohta, though, she’s entranced. She watches the ripples so long he has to clear his throat to get her attention back, but this time every trace of the stone is gone from her face. She looks eager, determined, but also a little embarrassed. Surprised to have been caught, probably, but it’s a charming expression nonetheless. She turns to face the water again, weighing the rock in her hand, then moves her arm and throws.

It splashes and sinks just like all her other attempts. Leohta curses softly and starts to turn away but Alistair catches her wrist.

“Hey, no way. You’re not giving up after one attempt. C'mon. We’ve got two more rocks, so two more tries, then I guess I can let you give up.” He starts to move before she can start to argue.

“It’s not giving up, Alistair, it’s accepting the inedible. Inedibibble. Ined… remind me to compliment the tavernkeeper tomorrow. His stuff is good.” Her voice gradually gets softer, a delayed reaction to where Alistair has taken up a position just behind her. It’s extremely convenient for him: she can’t see how his face is burning up from the presumptuousness of being so close to her, but it’s also the best position to show her how to move her arm. He wraps his hand around hers and lifts her arm into position.

“From here, you have to flick your hand out. Try to imagine the rock spinning out from the inside of your thumb and taking all that energy with it. The harder you can flick it, the more it’ll bounce and the more hops you’ll–all right, that’s it, you and Zevran are officially being separated because that’s not even dirty and now you’ve made it dirty. I hope you’re happy.” The woman in front of him is struggling to contain her laughter, he can tell, and as much as he wants to keep her focus on him, it’s hard to be genuinely upset. She doesn’t laugh nearly enough and especially not around him. The fact that whatever is so funny is lost on him is a far distant concern.

Alistair waits for her to compose herself then takes a moment to compose himself in turn when she settles back into a proper posture that puts her in contact with him from shoulder to hip. She’s nearly as tall as he is when he’s on his knees like this, a fact he’s thought about many times but never quite in this situation. Leohta gives herself a little shake, tossing her hair in his face as she does. He tries to blow it out of the way but there’s just too much. All right then, one thing at a time.

“Now. Just remember, angle your hand back and then flick. That word is ruined for me now, I think. You’ve ruined flicking.” In front of him Leohta snorts and Alistair make a private vow to forbid Zevran from using that word. He wants it to be their joke even if he doesn’t understand it. “Do you think you can manage?”

“To flick? I’ve done all right for the last few years anyway.” She giggles and clears her throat. “All right. Angle my hand back,” and her hand is moving inside of his so he loosens his grip, “then forward and flick!”

Alistair peers over her shoulder and sure enough. Blip, blip. One hop, but it’s one more than she’d managed before. He puts his hands on her shoulders and squeezes. “There you go! Well done, Warden Aeducan.” She lifts one hand to pat his but he can tell she’s still looking at the ripples.

After a moment, he releases her shoulders and, feeling a little bolder by the fact that she hasn’t elbowed him away yet, reaches forward to comb his fingers through her hair. It’s a practical gesture–even as he’s speaking, her hair is getting in his mouth–but hardly exclusively practical. Her hair is thick and her scalp surprisingly warm underneath it. In front of him she’s gone very still; he thinks she might even be holding her breath but then again, so is he. He focuses on his own hands until he’s gathered her hair at the back of her neck, but then the tension in it changes and oh.

Alistair looks up and she’s right there, her head turned to look at him. Maker’s breath but she’s close, her mouth gently open and her eyes searching his face. Her breath smells like honey and roses and his hand is still in her hair, it’d be so easy and it might be perfect but she’s been drinking and that’s not right. Or might it be OK, with her looking at him like that? The motion of her lips is so mesmerizing that it takes him a moment to realize she’s speaking to him.

“Alistair.” And like that, the moment is over, or at least set aside. “Would you do that again?”

“Of course.” She could ask him to fetch the moons from the sky right now and he’d say yes, but… “Wait, do what?” He didn’t do anything other than have a whole lot of thoughts in a very short span of time.

“Touch my hair. That was nice.” She’s leaning more of her weight against him now and it’s nice but also just starting to make him concerned. Still, he already said yes, so Alistair releases her hair from where he’s holding it and threads his fingers through it again, starting at her temple, mindful of and parallel to the little braid she’s so meticulous about. As he does it, her eyes drift closed but her face is relaxed. It’s not quite a smile but he’ll take it. “Again,” she murmurs as his hand comes to rest on the back of her neck.

Alistair laughs softly but he complies with her request, stroking his fingers through her hair again. And again, and once more, until she leans forward completely and drops her head onto his shoulder. Her breath is warm on his neck as he gives her one last stroke, then stops to reach out away from her. She grumbles softly in protest but he hushes her. “I’m just getting your other bottle. It’s bought and paid for, no sense leaving it here.”

“Why, where’re we going?”

“I don’t know yet about myself but you are doing to bed. Sleeping standing up is only good for horses and probably Sten, and sleeping on your knees is good for no one. Now, come on, up you get.” He hooks the hand holding the unopened bottle of rhodomel under Leohta’s knees, his other arm coming up behind her shoulders. She grumbles again as he starts to stand and he pauses before beginning to walk.

“You’re carrying me like a princess.” The humor in her voice warms him but now he feels a little more confident about deflecting it.

“I’m a Warden carrying another Warden like a Warden. No princesses here. Well, except for the tavern but I’m certainly not trying to pick that up. I could throw you over my shoulder if you wanted, but you have to promise not to throw up on my back.”

“No promises.” She slumps against his shoulder as he starts to walk. It’s only a few steps from the beach to the door but he takes his time. Who knows what Orzammar will do to her, or what she might do to Orzammar? The answer is liable to be complicated but this, for as unexpected as it is, feels strangely simple. She might not even remember it in the morning, but it’s not a feeling Alistair’s going to forget any time soon. “Alistair.”

“I don’t have a free hand to pet you, but if you can stay awake until we get inside, maybe I’ll give you scritches once I get you upstairs.” He’s trying to figure out how he’s going to open the door when she shakes her head and answers.

“Thank you for coming out tonight. I’m sorry I’m–”

“None of that now. You have nothing to be sorry for, and if anything I should say thank you for having me.” Alistair manages to hook the latch with his pinkie then wedge his foot into the gap, kicking the door open as he maneuvers her inside. “You may not have found it so, but I think being a Warden can be a little bit fun, if you’re with the right person. Or people,” he continues, scrambling to cover for himself while trying to ease the door’s closing with his foot. Once he’s got both feet back on the ground, he looks down at the woman in his arms. Fast asleep, looking as young as he’s ever seen her and more peaceful than she has possibly the entire time he’s known her. The inn’s main room is empty, the fire doused, and he’s almost loathe to speak again and interrupt the silence, but he does.

“Or person. Just the right person.”

[theamazingcaptdeadpool]

Sinday Meme for Characters Who Share a Brain

The original meme can be found here: x Characters: Wade Wilson (@theamazingcaptdeadpool), Frank Castle (@mementomorimthrfckr) and Ajax (@cantfeelsht) Warning: An abundance of words, massive TMI, cursing duh, threats double duh, Any complaints may be directed at our lawyer; @hellsainted

Frank scoffed as Wade had spent the last three minutes trying to figure out a title, brainstorming no pun intended with himself – and the result he landed on you already read. “That sounds terrible, Wade.” he grumbled and sipped his coffee. A sort of bribe to get him to partake in the thing. “You come up with a better one then, Skulls, and we’ll use that.” Wade fired back, thankful that Frank wasn’t known for his creativity. “What was wrong with the original title?” Ajax wanted to know and crossed his arms. He was leaning nonchalantly against the wall, watching the other two with what one could describe as ‘calm suspiciousness’. “It was too long.” Wade complained. “Not catchy. And we’re replying as ourselves. The original title suggested that the co-pilot do it for us. Or arms dealer. Or whatever the hell you call her.” he explained, because he could see Frank straining as he tried to work it out. Be nice Wade. I’m always nice.  “Why don’t we just get this over with.” Ajax’s stare moved from Frank to Wade. His former subject was the most keen on this, after all – surely he would kick it off.  “Best idea you’ve had, Francis.” Wade murmured as he counted the questions of the meme. “Alright, there are twenty questions. Let the sinning commence!” he clapped his hands and rubbed his palms eagerly. 

“Jesus,” Frank exclaimed and leaned over the table, snatching the laptop from the merc with a dirty imagination mouth. “I’ll read these.” He glowered at Wade who raised his hands in defeat. There was no point in challenging the Punisher this early in the game.   “What muse needs the most attention on sinday?” Frank read and for some reason found himself looking glumly up at Ajax who shook his head.  “Wade it is then.” It wasn’t that Frank wouldn’t mind the attention… he just wouldn’t actively seek it.   “Yeah, that’s a no brainer.” Wade murmured, he had somehow produced whiteboard signs and written “Me!” on one side and “Not me!” on the other. What? I came prepared. I always do. Yes, that is me being suggestive. He gave one to Ajax who reluctantly accepted.  “Just making it easier for us.” He explained, surprisingly caring.  “Whatever it takes to shut you up,” Ajax looked at both sides to make sure he hadn’t written anything funny on his. 

“Easy, Francis,” Wade began only to be interrupted by Frank who read the next question loudly. “Which muse usually stays silent on sinday?” Frank sniffed. He hadn’t partaken in any sindays, yet. “I’m not it.” Wade said quickly. “I love me some sinday. Actually every day is sinday in my book. Doesn’t always have to be sex. Severe procrastination. Excess eating. Pillows of blow…” “You ever hear of TMI?” Frank put the laptop down on the table with more force than he intended.

  Wade wiped one of the sides of his sign clear and wrote “NO!” only to hold it up for Frank to see. None of them had noticed how Ajax was holding up his own sign reading “Me!” and it took all his effort not to wack Wade in the back of the head with it. “Let’s move on.” Ajax shot in, before Wade could start one of his endless rambles. Frank glared at Wade like a teacher glare at the kid in class that won’t ever stay silent – that they’re afraid to take their eyes off because they know they’ll cause trouble. “Share some headcanons about your muses’ sexual and/or romantic orientation… You want to go first, Ajax?” Frank offered without looking at him. “Francis.” Wade corrected him. “Can’t feel. He can’t get it up – and can’t get it off.” Ajax closed his eyes, his jaw tense. “Wade is right.” he murmured. “I’m asexual. Except for specific muses. That has to be talked over in detail.” “Contracts has to be signed. Very Christian Grey. Wouldn’t play with him.” Wade turned towards the room and whispered to no one. Well, at least none that Frank and Ajax were aware of. They shared a moment of confusion, waiting for something to happen – someone to reply. As the silence bordered awkward Frank nodded and continued with the survey; “I’m bi with a preference towards women, but I’m not really looking for anything.” His voice was low. He wet his lips and averted his eyes, bouncing his foot impatiently. 

“I’m pan – the comics has me paired up with women and Spiderman. Over here, meaning Tumblr, I have a preference towards men.” Wade stated the obvious. Frank drew a breath to read the next question, but then Wade continued; “Men with metal arms. Men that are Avengers. Men that’s purple… Is that even a man?” “You done?” Frank wanted to know. They’d missed how Wade had fixed the other side of his sign – and was now holding up a “YES!”. “What are your favourite ship for your muses?” Frank was visibly confused by the question.   “For me it’s the Millenium Falcon,” Wade answered – hoping it would make it easier for the not so shockingly thick marine. “Oh, and I love my warship.” “I don’t ship.” Ajax shrugged. He saw no need to. “Cablepool, Winterpool, Cappool, Hawkpool – the one with Colossus, I forgot its name…” Wade counted on his fingers. “Thunderpool is kinda cute.” “You any idea what he’s on about?” Frank turned towards Ajax. “You don’t want to know, mate.” Ajax said with a sigh. “It’s a question about who you see yourself with.” “No one.” Frank answered shortly. He couldn’t be with anyone, because whoever got close to him ended up dead or worse. 

“Why so glum sugarplum?” Wade leaned forward. “What about Castlevania?” “Are you…” Frank was about to get fired up but by some miracle managed to compose himself. He cleared his throat and shifted. “Nevermind. The next question – “ Frank decided he best ignore the entire thing; he thought they were done with Castlevania. He was not to be ‘shipped’ as the kids called it – with Dracula. “Which muse is the kinkiest?” “Next!” Wade called – he was holding up his sign. “Me!” it read. And maybe that was the truth. Wade is into a lot of things, after all… “Which muse has the strangest kinks?” Frank read warily. Wade slammed his sign down on the table to grab everyone’s attention and held it up again. He pointed to it and looked between the other two; “Unless you want to list some kinks?” “Next.” Ajax nodded towards the screen. “You sure, Francis? I won’t kink shame. Maybe I could interest you in – “ “Next!” Ajax insisted. “Choose one muse and tell us how they lost their virginity.” Frank read. He thought perhaps they could draw straws or… “Rock papers scissors lizard Spock.” Wade said with remarkable speed and accuracy. 

“I lost mine to and older girl at one of the many orphanages I visited.” Ajax said flatly, wanting them to believe that it hadn’t really mattered.   “You’re so boring, Francis.” Wade pouted. “At least give us some details.” “It was quick, messy and left me wanting more.” Ajax squared his jaw. “Satisfied?” “Unlike you’ll ever be again; yes. Thank you. I’m touched, Francis.” Wade sniffed as if he was sincerely moved, whilst Frank hid a chuckle and shook his head, clearly relieved that he didn’t have to spill the beans.

“Each of us have to share a random sex fact… I…” Frank rubbed the back of his neck. “I like it when the woman is on top of me, so I can see her pleasure and have her in control.” he admitted. Wade gave an approving nod. “I prefer to be the sub – to give up the control, but more often than not I’m taking it because I get impatient – I think. What about you Francis? Any sexy secrets about your preferences? Oh that’s right…” “I get off on watching others emotions. Pleasure – pain? Doesn’t matter.” Ajax admitted – his tone threatening. Wade gasped loudly and murmured ‘Sadist’ under his breath. Frank blinked and tilted his head slightly to the side – as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Remind me again why we haven’t killed this guy?” Frank asked Wade. “You tell me. Hey, Francis, would you like to hurt me a little – how about that, huh?” “Yes, how about that?” Ajax pushed off the wall, his eyes like pits of hell. Dark, angry. A far too familiar smirk tugging at his lips. 

Frank’s arm shot out – stopping the villain from getting too close. “You’d like that wouldn’t you?” Wade taunted him. “Yeah,” Ajax snarled – pressing against Frank’s hand. “If you could organise… Seriously who made up these questions? Are these,” Frank turned the laptop around, unable to mask how mortified he felt. “Are you behind these Wade? Because I swear to god…” “I can take the blame for a lot of things – but not that.” Wade pointed at the screen. “Finish the question. I’m curious now.” Frank sighed and tilted his head upwards, as if he was asking for patience. 

“Alright. Alright… Argh… God. If you could organise a threesome involving three of your muses, who would you choose? I guess this one isn’t for us. And… heaven forbid the three of us ever get put in a room together again. Because the next time? I won’t go easy.” Frank pushed Ajax so he fell back against the wall and stared threateningly at Wade. “Careful Frank, he might like it.” Wade taunted. Ajax pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. He hated Wade for his ability to get to him.   “The next one is for her as well. What muse she’d like to write a ship for…” Frank shook his head again. “What the fuck’s up with all these damned boats? Anyway… I assume she’d like to try me out with Billy.” “Kinky.” Wade purred. “I’m already in quite a few ships. If we’re adding to… pfft.” Truth was, Wade was content with his situation, so it took some thinking. “A Nathan would be nice? And no ships for Francis. His ship sank the day he let Michael Jackson Dr. Killebrew fiddle with his body.” Wade clicked his tongue and winked at Ajax. 

“How can you possibly know – “ Ajax began – cut off by Frank as he read the next question. “What are some preferences when deciding whether or not to ship a muse?” Frank frowned at the screen. “Read the rules, play nice, write well – I don’t know.” Wade hummed in agreement.  “And don’t assume we’ll ship – I don’t know about the other two, but I’m picky.” “You? Picky?” Ajax scoffed and leered at him. “Do you get to be?” “Well – I can’t fuck all the people who’s bummed because you couldn’t get it up for them.” Wade fired back. 

Frank rubbed his face – considering shooting them both. Ajax wouldn’t feel it, but he could die. Wade would feel it and couldn’t die. What a trio they were… “Are you guys DONE bickering yet?” he sounded tiredly. “Never,” Wade answered as he breathed in. Ajax rolled his eyes. “I prefer missionary or the cowgirl or whatever it’s known as these days. I like the intimacy. The control or giving up of. I like to touch, to see…” Frank’s words grew with passion as he spoke. Wade blinked and looked at him. “What are you on about?” “The next question. I figured I might finish this on my own and get the hell out.” Frank was done with the bullshit.   “What was the question?” Wade put his hands on the table and leaned forward. “Headcanons, sex positions.” Frank scratched his cheek, and glanced up at Ajax. “You outta this one, too?”

“Against a wall… Or relentless teasing,” Ajax didn’t even get to finish before Wade corrected him; “Endless foreplay,” “To draw as much sound from the other part as possible.” Ajax blinked and turned slowly towards Wade. “What about you then, collared and on your knees begging for it?” 

“Actually that’s not that far from the truth. But I like a lot of things. Depends on my partner and whether I’m giving up control or not.” Wade shrugged. “How much time – “ Frank already began reading the next question. “ – none, then.” Wade sighed. “Has she written smut for you guys? Because that’s a no for me.” Frank didn’t take his eyes off the screen – this he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. Ajax arched an eyebrow and cocked his head, Wade nodded vigorously. “I suppose neither of you know whether she prefers to write it or not?” Frank huffed and leaned back into his chair. “How are we supposed to answer these questions when they’re not even… yes… Wade?” Much to his surprise Wade has raised his hand. 

“Thank you. I happen to know that she don’t mind writing smut, but she has to feel comfortable with the person she’s writing it with.” “Multiship or singleship?” Frank turned to Ajax. He couldn’t stand the guy, but at least he’d had the decency to explain some of these things to him. “Is no ship an option?” Ajax smirked. It should be pretty clear at this point that he didn’t ship. “It is now. I’m on the fence. I wouldn’t ship with someone exclusively I think.” Frank grimaced at himself, as he was now using Tumblr and games own terms.   “Good call, Frank! For me it’s multiship all the way.” Wade drew a horizontal line in the air before him. “I’m not exclusive either.” “Huh, I think we just answered the next question. So… What is our shipping preferences? Weren’t we over that? Chemistry?” Frank thought that slow-burn sounded nice, but neither of the other guys seemed like the “slow burn” type. He didn’t know how wrong he was in his assumptions. “Yeah. What would you call my ship with Thanos? Because… that’s like… unhealthy. Toxic ships? I guess we’re semi into that? Aren’t we Francis?” Wade winked at him. Damn was he having a field day. Ajax on his end just shook his head and slammed his shoulders back against the wall. “What’s an OC?” Frank glanced up from the screen, relieved that they were close to done.  “Original character. We don’t really do those.” Wade knew that was frowned upon in the roleplaying community, but he didn’t give a shit. “I don’t know about you, but I have more than enough with the canon characters.” On most days, he actually had more than enough with himself. Ajax and Frank both seemed on board with that. 

“So,” Frank turned the laptop off and pulled the screen down. “That’s it. We’re done. Let’s never do it again.” his knees cracked as he stood up. 

“Or the next time we can get naked and –“ Wade began,  Frank pulled his gun and aimed it straight at his crotch. 

“You don’t want to finish that sentence.” his voice was low, barely audible.  “You don’t want to shoot me, Francis might get off on it.” Wade kindly reminded him.  “Oh my fucking…” Frank rubbed his face and headed out of the room. There wasn’t enough booze in the world to make him forget. 

“Hey – are you off to kill someone? Do you have a team yet – hey Frank, wait up!” Wade picked up his swords and chased after the Punisher. Ajax sighed and pushed his shoulders down. Being around Wade always made him tense up. He rolled his head from side to side, then left through the back door – half expecting the two of them to be waiting to kill him.

If you made it this far, please let me know what you think. No, Frank didn’t kill Ajax. Yet. 

[patriotsnet]

Can Republicans Take Back The House

New Post has been published on https://www.patriotsnet.com/can-republicans-take-back-the-house/

Can Republicans Take Back The House

The Gop Has Yet To Land A Single Top Recruit To Run For The Senate Anywhere In The Country

Representative Kevin McCarthy discusses if Republicans can take back the House in 2020

The surest way that Republicans can stop whatever legislative agenda President Biden has in mind after the 2022 midterm elections is to win a majority in the US Senate.

Even more than the House, a simple majority in the Senate could let Republicans gum up everything from gun control legislation to Supreme Court nominations.

On paper, it seems easy enough. Republicans need to win just a single seat in order to flip the 50-50 Senate and possibilities for doing so are all over the map. Given that midterm elections often benefit the party out of power, and Democrats control two out of three levers of the federal government, Republicans wouldnât be overly optimistic in assuming Mitch McConnell might soon rule the Senate again.

But here is the thing about the GOPâs chances: At this early stage, they are having problems getting good candidates to sign up. And while the historical trends look good for Republicans you canât win something with nothing.

Republicans have yet to land a single top recruit to run for the Senate anywhere in the country â even in places where they have an opportunity to flip a seat â and a good candidate could make all the difference.

In Nevada, Republicans are pinning their hopes on getting former state attorney general Adam Laxalt in the race to challenge Masto, who won in 2016 by just 3 percentage points. So far, Laxalt has not announced plans to run and he comes with baggage: he lost a bid for governor in 2018.

House Republicans Voice Optimism On Winning Back The House Following Special Election Victories

Coming on the heels of two special election wins, House Republicans are feeling a new sense of optimism about their odds of taking back control of the lower chamber, with National Republican Congressional Committee Chairman Tom EmmerThomas Earl EmmerCrypto industry seeks to build momentum after losing Senate fightTrump-backed Mike Carey wins GOP primary in Ohio special electionJuan Williams: Biden’s child tax credit is a game-changerMORE saying he feels the House is more than just in play.;

While independent political forecasters have largely projected that Republicans face a steep uphill climb to win back the majority citing the number of retirements, the number of seats that flipped in the midterms and the fact that Democrats have a cash advantage top GOP lawmakers say Rep. Mike Garcia’s victory over Democrat Christy Smith in a competitive swing district indicates political analysts may be underestimating the partys momentum.;

The Garcia election in Los Angeles I think was a wake-up call to all the skeptics out there that in the middle of all of these difficult challenges, a Republican just flipped a seat in the suburbs of L.A., and that hasnt been done in 22 years, House Minority Whip Steve ScaliseStephen Joseph ScaliseLouisiana delegation asks for additional relief funding after IdaFEMA has funds to cover disasters for nowWatch live: Scalise holds news conference on Afghanistan MORE told The Hill.;

Al Weaver contributed.

Gerrymandering Texas Could Help Republicans Take Back The House In 2022

HOUSTON Fort Bend County was a sleepy suburban outpost of Houston when KP George arrived in the late 1990s, dominated by conservative politics and represented in Congress by Republican Party star Tom DeLay.

Twenty years later, the areas population has more than doubled in size, driven by fast-growing Asian, Latino and Black communities that in 2019 helped elect George an immigrant from southern India as Fort Bends first non-white county judge.

The wave of left-leaning voters that elevated George and other Democrats to local office in recent years may also help the area land a new congressional district. Texas gained two House seats in the 2020 U.S. Census, driven by a population boom in the Houston and Dallas-Fort Worth metropolitan regions, among other parts of the state.

But the Republican-controlled state legislature will be in charge of drawing the new districts, leaving Democrats on the sidelines, worried they may not benefit from the regions changing demographics.

You feel like youre not being counted, George said. My county is benefitting from people like me. But when it comes to the seat at the table , we dont have it.

Redistricting is a byzantine process that plays out behind closed doors, but the stakes are high. New congressional and state legislative lines will remain in place for the next decade, giving the parties that benefit most from redistricting considerable clout in policymaking and upcoming elections.

Also Check: Who Won The House Republicans Or Democrats

Democrats And Republicans Vote Straight In Line With Their Parties

Every Republican voted no Wednesday as the Democratic-led U.S. House passed the $1.9 trillion legislation. No Senate Republican voted for the bill when it;came before that chamber;Saturday.

During weeks of debate,;Republicans said the bulk of the spending would go;to an array of items unrelated to COVID-19 from Amtrak railroad service to arts and humanities programs.

Former President Donald Trump issued a short statement after the bill’s passage Wednesday, taking credit for development of COVID-19 vaccines in what could be a glimpse into Republican talking points.;

If I wasnt President, you wouldnt be getting that beautiful shot for 5 years, at best, and probably wouldnt be getting it at all. I hope everyone remembers! Trump said.

The bill; to Americans, extends unemployment benefits, addresses child poverty and health care programs;and speeds up programs to supply COVID-19 vaccinations and school reopenings; all items Democrats frequently tout.

Chris Taylor, a spokesperson for the Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee, said “the;American people will remember that House Republicans voted against cutting childhood poverty in half” and “getting stimulus checks into the hands of struggling Americans,” among;other benefits.

“House Republicans left American families out to dry,” he said. “The people won’t forget that.”;

Its Not All Bad News For Democrats

While it was unquestionably a good night for Republicans, Democrats still held onto most of the seats they won in 2018 and will continue to be the majority party in the House. Thats in part because they retained most of the suburban districts they picked up in 2018.

Of the 233 seats that Democrats held coming into the election,2 186 of them were in districts that were predominantly or partly suburban in nature, according to density categorizations by Bloombergs CityLab. Thus far, Democrats have lost seven of those seats, but they captured one GOP-held suburban seat around Atlanta. And thanks to redistricting, theyve also won two formerly Republican seats around Greensboro and Raleigh in North Carolina, which reflect the partys strength in more populous areas.

Because of their relative success in the suburbs, Democrats kept many seats in places President Trump won in 2016. Coming into the election, Democrats held 30 seats in districts Trump carried in 2016, and they wouldve lost their majority if theyd lost more than half of them . But theyve won 18 of them so far and picked up one from the GOP . In fact, more than half of Republicans gains have come in seats representing places that Trump won by a pretty sizable margin in 2016. Well have to wait a bit before data can tell us how congressional districts voted in 2020,3 but for now it seems many Republican gains were made by picking off the lowest-hanging fruit.

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The Justice Department Puts States On Notice About Election Audits And Voting Changes

“If they’re going to try to rely on rigging this game, because they don’t have a plan for the future and they can’t talk to the voters about their ideas and their vision, well, I think that makes me proud to be a Democrat.”

Maloney also posits that GOP turnout will be depressed in an election that doesn’t feature former President Donald Trump himself.

“There’s no evidence that this toxic Trump message will motivate voters without Trump on the ballot,” he says. “If the other side is making one big mistake, I think that might be it, which is a doubling down on this toxic Trump message of division and anger and racism and yet there’s no evidence they can pull out voters with the message without the messenger.”

He points to Texas Republican Jake Ellzey as a recent example. Ellzey was sworn in to the House on Friday, days after winning a special election that saw him defeat a Trump-backed candidate.

Maloney underscores: “It seems like the Trump endorsement’s not what it used to be.”

Here are more highlights from his conversation with NPR’s Susan Davis.

On polarization in Congress:

On the Republican Party:

On his own reelection in 2022:

I Do Not Buy That A Social Media Ban Hurts Trumps 2024 Aspirations: Nate Silver

sarah: Yeah, Democrats might not have their worst Senate map in 2022, but it will by no means be easy, and how they fare will have a lot to do with the national environment. And as we touched on earlier, Bidens overall approval rating will also make a big difference in Democrats midterm chances.

nrakich: Yeah, if the national environment is even a bit Republican-leaning, that could be enough to allow solid Republican recruits to flip even Nevada and New Hampshire. And then it wouldnt even matter if Democrats win Pennsylvania and Wisconsin.

One thing is for sure, though whichever party wins the Senate will have only a narrow majority, so I think were stuck in this era of moderates like Sens. Joe Manchin and Lisa Murkowski controlling every bills fate for at least a while longer.;

sarah: Lets talk about big picture strategy, then, and where that leaves us moving forward. Its still early and far too easy to prescribe election narratives that arent grounded in anything, but one gambit the Republican Party seems to be making at this point is that attacking the Democratic Party for being too progressive or woke will help them win.

What do we make of that playbook headed into 2022? Likewise, as the party in charge, what are Democrats planning for?

With that being said, the GOPs strategies could still gin up turnout among its base, in particular, but its hard to separate that from general dissatisfaction with Biden.

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Rising Violent Crime Is Likely To Present A Political Challenge For Democrats In 2022

But there are roadblocks to fully enacting Democrats’ agenda. Their thin majorities in both chambers of Congress mean nearly all Democrats have to get on board with every agenda item in order to push through major legislative priorities. And without adjusting or eliminating the legislative filibuster in the Senate, Democrats need 10 Republicans to join them for various legislation a near-impossible task.

Will 2022 Be A Good Year For Republicans

Can the GOP take back the House? Kevin McCarthy weighs in

A FiveThirtyEight Chat

Welcome to FiveThirtyEights politics chat. The transcript below has been lightly edited.

sarah : Were still more than a year away from the 2022 midterm elections, which means it will be a while before we should take those general election polls too seriously. But with a number of elections underway in 2021, not to mention a number of special elections, its worth kicking off the conversation around what we do and dont know about Republicans and Democrats odds headed into the midterms.

Lets start big picture. The longstanding conventional wisdom is that midterm elections generally go well for the party thats not in the White House. Case in point: Since 1946, the presidents party has lost, on average, 27 House seats.

What are our initial thoughts? Is the starting assumption that Republicans should have a good year in 2022?

alex : Yes, and heres why: 2022 will be the first federal election after the House map are redrawn. And because Democrats fell short of their 2020 expectations in state legislative races, Republicans have the opportunity to redraw congressional maps that are much more clearly in their favor. On top of that, Republicans are already campaigning on the cost and magnitude of President Bidens policy plans to inspire a backlash from voters.

geoffrey.skelley :Simply put, as that chart above shows, the expectation is that Democrats, as the party in the White House, will lose seats in the House.;

nrakich : What they said!

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Possible 2010 Or 2014 Midterm Repeat

Big bets on policy also don’t necessarily pay off at the ballot box, a lesson Democrats learned a decade ago when they passed the Affordable Care Act. President Barack Obama’s domestic policy achievement also helped decimate congressional Democratic majorities in the 2010 and 2014 midterm elections.

It’s just one reason why Republicans feel good about their chances in 2022, along with structural advantages like the redistricting process, where House districts are redrawn every decade to reflect population changes. Republicans control the process in more states and are better positioned to gain seats.

“This deck is already stacked, because they’ve been gerrymandering these districts,” Maloney says. “And now they’re trying to do even more of it and add to that with these Jim Crow-style voter suppression laws throughout the country.”

He maintains that efforts among Republican-led state legislatures to enact more voting restrictions show the party has a losing policy hand for the midterm elections.

Jim Jordan: Biden Has Not Done One Thing Right Gop Will Take Back House In 2022

OPINION: This article contains commentary which reflects the authors opinion

Ohio GOP Rep. Jim Jordan says that Joe Biden has not done one thing right and that he thinks Bidens incompetence will cost Democrats next year.

During an interview on FNCs FOX News Primetime, Jordan said Republicans will take back control of the U.S. House of Representatives in the 2022 midterm elections.Guest host Tammy Bruce said, What is your message to the American people as we deal with the unfolding disaster of the Biden administration?Jorden said, Well, yeah, defend anyone who gets attacked. These people running for school board because they

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JD Rucker EIC

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Republicans Winning Money Race As They Seek To Take Over House In 2022

By Alex Rogers and Manu Raju, CNN

The National Republican Congressional Committee announced Wednesday that it had raised $45.4 million in the second quarter of 2021, the most it has ever raised in three months of a non-election year, as Republicans seek to take over the House in 2022.

This story has been updated with additional developments Wednesday.

Republicans Are Well Positioned To Take The House In 2022

Although we dont yet know the winners of some House races, we can already look ahead to the 2022 midterms and see a fairly straightforward path for the GOP to capture the House. Midterm elections historically go well for the party thats not in the White House, and the out-of-power party is especially likely to do well in the House, since every seat is up for election .

Since the end of World War II, the presidential party has lost an average of 27 House seats in midterm elections, as the chart below shows. No matter how many seats Democrats end up with after 2020s election at this point, they will probably end up somewhere in the low 220s a loss of that magnitude would easily be enough for Republicans to retake the House.

The recent history of midterms in a Democratic presidents first term seems especially promising for the GOP, too. Following Bill Clintons election in 1992, Democrats lost more than 50 seats in 1994, and after Barack Obama won the presidency in 2008, Democrats lost more than 60 seats.

If Democrats had added five to 10 seats this year, they could have survived a 20-seat loss in the midterms. Instead, Republicans will probably need to win fewer than 10 seats to gain a slender majority in 2022.

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Top Republicans Think Taking Back House And Senate Would Force Biden To Center

Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell says if Republicans can win back control of Congress in the 2022 midterms, it would force President Joe Biden into a political corner.

Speaking at an event in his home state of Kentucky, McConnell says Americans will have a big decision to make come midterms when control of the House and Senate will be up for grabs.

Do they really want a moderate administration or not? If the House and Senate were to return to Republican hands that doesnt mean nothing will get done, McConnell said.

What I want you to know is if I become majority leader again its not for stopping everything. Its for stopping the worst. Its for stopping things that fundamentally push the country into a direction that at least my party feels is not a good idea for the country. I could make sure Biden makes his promise to be a moderate, he added.

Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell suggested Monday that he would block a Supreme Court nominee in 2024 if Republicans regain control of the Senate after the 2022 midterm elections.

— USA TODAY

One of the things McConnell would be guaranteed to block from Biden would be a Supreme Court nomination, much like he did with former President Barack Obama and his last nominee, Merrick Garland.;

The Democrats hold a slim lead of nine seats in the House with all 435 seats up for grabs.

[cupcakereblogs]

i hate how i right away stress over a simple little thing and i wanna burst down crying or smashing my head against the wall cuz it hits me harder than it should lol

but seriously, i should avoid everything rn cuz its not making me feel any better, i tried to hold it in so i can socialize and hang and make jokes but nah it isnt helping. and who am i fooling with anything anymore like i legit am just wasting time here i cant even do anything good, im not even good at art as i used to be im not giving it out like i used to, it doesnt excite me as it used to 

seriously i dont want to bother with seeking help when theres 0 reason to live for anything or anyone. like lol i live alone and dont talk to anyone irl, barely talk online, i doubt anyone would notice, even if they do theyd forget me in less than a week. or maybe in a year theyd realize i wasnt around and then ask ‘lol wheres cups?’ i dont even wanna do it for myself when im nothing but a huge shame, im so ashamed to be alive 

i had a breakdown like more than a week ago, ive cut myself, and i keep being so stressed over a simple thing and just having my head feel like its racing and cant stop feeling horrible.