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newgenog · 9 months

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REVENGE

Notes: This is another teaser from chapter seven.

If you're just stumbling across this, and haven't already done so, please stop and start by reading part one of chapter one.

This #Batwoman AU is based on the ABC tv series #Revenge. Ryan Wilder had just about everything taken from her when we met her, and she was doing her best to get it back. In this version of the story, that means taking some people down along the way. And, she's definitely no hero.

I realize it's Sunday and not Friday. I'm late because everything I'd written by then felt too spoilery. But I think this is a safe (super drafty) teaser. I'm still trying my hardest to post this chapter in full by September 1st (which would make this the last teaser for "season one" if I can power through).

So, you know, writing vibes are appreciated.

CHAPTER SEVEN SNEAK PEEK

WEDNESDAY, JULY 12TH, 10:00 AM, HAMILTON DYNAMICS

Tommy walks into Catherine’s office with a tray full of caffeinated beverages from the coffee and tea shop that’s accessible through the lobby of the building. Evan is seated across from her, in one of two white leather and chrome office chairs at her porcelain desk. It’s day two of Tommy’s internship, and he was only asked to bring Catherine’s late-morning coffee to her, but he knows he’s on thin ice with Evan, and figures he could afford to make a few romantic deposits.

He doesn’t intend to interrupt them. He simply plucks each drink out of its secured space on the tray and gently sets it in front of its new owner. He’s a professional, so he prepares to leave as though he was never there, but stops when he hears Even react with a curious tone. They’re looking at their cell phone, and apparently surprised by a notification they just received. Even Catherine is inquisitive when she sees the partial frown on their face.

Catherine: “Something to share?”

Evan: “It’s Kate…”

Tommy raises an eyebrow, skeptically. His understanding is that Kate hadn’t spoken to either of them since she walked in on Tommy’s admission to Evan during the Independence Day Banquet.

Catherine: “Is everything alright?”

Evan: “It shouldn’t be…”

Tommy: “What’s that mean?”

Evan: “I was DMing Mary yesterday, and she was telling me about her boyfriend being hit by that car….I know he and Kate are close-”

Catherine: “Do you mean Luke? Are they actually in a relationship now?!”

Evan: “Oh, yeah…Didn’t realize you didn’t know, yet.”

Catherine: “That would require my daughter to speak to me.”

Tommy: “I’m sorry. What were you about to say about Kate?”

Evan: “Well, she says she’s planning a big event that she wants to happen before the end of the month, and I’m just surprised she’d push for something so soon, considering.”

Tommy: “Is this like a Save the Date?”

Evan: “No. She wants to hire me to plan it, like a contract.”

Evan slowly peers up at Catherine, and Tommy follows their gaze to observe her reaction, as well.

Catherine: “Did she say what kind of event it was?”

Evan: “She said she wants to fill me in later, but…”

Evan shifts their eyes to Tommy.

Tommy: “What? Did she mention me?”

Evan: “Actually, she mentioned Robyn. They're planning it together…”

The room is so silent for a moment that it seems everyone is holding their breath. Suprisingly, Catherine speaks first.

Catherine: “I think you should do it, that is, if you want to.”

Evan looks back at her completely shocked.

Evan: “But what about-”

Catherine: “Evan, I know you have goals above and beyond working for me. And I also trust you to be able to juggle, so you can fit this in if it’s important to you.”

Evan wants to demonstrate their appreciation, but is still a little too taken aback, and unsure to adjust their expression or form words to respond.

Tommy: “And, if I may, we could all probably afford to try to repair some of what’s destabilized our bridges.”

Catherine: “I agree with Tommy. If I’m correct in my assumption, you probably haven’t spent very much time with your friends lately because Kate and Mary are upset with me for one reason or another.”

Evan only offers a side smile in response. They look at Tommy, doubtfully.

Tommy: “It’s not just you, Mrs. Hamilton. I’ve also frustrated both of them a couple of times. And, Evan, I don’t want you caught up in all of that. So, if it helps with your decision, I can go talk to Kate.”

Evan: “Really? “You’d do that?”

Tommy: “For the both of you…? Anything.”

Catherine: “So, it’s settled. Evan, you tell Kate you’ll hear her plans, and Tommy, you’ll head over to Kate to clear things up, so that this isn’t an issue when they all meet later.”

Tommy: “Are you suggesting I go now?”

Catherine: “Why save for tomorrow what you can get done today, Tommy? Internship lesson number one: tackle your low hanging fruit first, and don’t put off the things that don’t require figuring out to get done.”

Tommy: “Copy that. I’ll be on my way, then.“

Evan reaches out, and grabs Tommy’s arm before he can leave. They look up, eyes filled with sincerity.

Evan: “Thank you.”

Tommy breaks his professionalism for a moment, leans down, and kisses Evan on the cheek. Then, without looking back, he heads for the door to try to make some form of amends with his friend. His opinions on everything haven't changed. Neither have his plans. However, he realizes being at odds with Kate Kane wouldn't make achieving what he's set out to accomplish any easier. Even more, he didn't miss the briefest glint of what looked like competitiveness pass through Catherine's expressions. So, if he could get a little intell that might impress his new boss while he was there, even better.

~~~~~

To be continued…

Random note/update: I don't know what math I was doing when I originally gave Jordan her age but I have since revised it. Jordan is 19. Which means she was seven when Sophie graduated high school. So whatever age you've been imagining her as please update it in your mind. I will be going back to any prior chapter that references her age to try to make the adjustments as well.

And, hopefully you understand that for chapter 7, we went backwards in time. We spent most of the second half of last chapter revolving around Luke. But plenty was happening while he was "resting." We will catch up to present day before the chapter is over.

See you next week!

Support the Writer and Actor strikes.

#wgastrike #sagaftrastrike #StopCancellingDiverseShows

#batwoman #wildmoore #ryan x sophie #wildmoore week #ryan wilder #sophie moore #save batwoman #fanfic #lgbtq #wmw23

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voxofthevoid · 6 months

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I meant to send this ask ages ago but alas, I was hijacked into a blackhole and got lost along the way. Hi, it's werewolf anon. You can't see it but I'm waving hello.

Just wanted to say thank you so much for posting that last Stucky werewolf WIP you had. As you noted, it was definitely different from your previous ones but still so fucking good. I am constantly in awe of your writing. Thank you thank you thank you. I will take even crumbs of any Stucky leftovers you have because you're just that good.

That being said, I am now caught up in JJK anime. Not the manga though. Which one of your JJK fics should I start with or should I go read the manga?

Werewolf anon!! Glad to hear from you again! I hope that black hole treated you well 😂

Thank you 🥺❤️

We're not at the leftovers stage yet, but I actually am planning to dump some of my half-finished stucky stories either here or on Ao3 once I'm done posting the finished stuff. The number of stucky fics I've got isn't many now, but at least one is a multichap, so I anticipate haunting the tag well into 2024. You won't be rid of me yet.

My reaction to the last passage was "!!!!!" btw. Welcome to JJK hell! We have pain and horror. It's fun. Mostly.

As for my anime-only fics—

little lamb is safe to read after just Season 1. It's basically porn set during Yuuji's presumed dead era.

baby blue is role reversal omegaverse that doesn't have any manga spoilers, just gratuitous dubcon porn.

lover in the story is safe for now, since you've caught up on Season 2. But its Part 3 will feature heavy manga spoilers. That won't be posted till a few months into 2024 though.

The rest are all verrry spoilery.

#i love my anons #anon #werewolf anon #i was actually thinking about you the other day #when talking about knotting dildos to someone 😂

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belphegor1982 · 1 year

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Third vignette of my “Extreme Measures”/“Ouroboros” missing moments :o) Still very spoilery for season 5, natch. As usual, I’ll include a link to AO3 in a reblog, so it shows in the comments.

Jigsaw Pieces

Chozen, uneasy

Daniel, adrift

Amanda, sleepless

Sam, shaken

Johnny, fixing things

Daniel, not alone

Amanda resists the urge to check the time on her phone. Time means nothing when you’re flying between time zones. The plane left Ohio at 4AM, and after a five-hour flight it will be 6AM in LA when they arrive. She might as well be travelling through time.

She does, however, steal a glance at Anthony a few seats away. It’s easier and more discreet than craning her neck to check on Sam, a few rows behind her. She’s antsy about the three of them being split up like this, but they were lucky to find a redeye at all and beggars can’t be choosers.

Anthony is sleeping soundly, his face turned away from her, toward the window. Sam spent a long time scrolling on her phone, but the last time her mother saw her, the fatigue and the late hour had taken their toll and she had fallen asleep, too. Most of the other passengers have. The sounds of snoring punctuated by occasional snorts can be heard under the AC and the dull roar of the motors.

Amanda doubts she’ll even doze off in the next few hours. There is too much on her mind to let her sleep, even though she knows she’s well past the age where she can afford an all-nighter without feeling like crap for a couple of days afterwards.

Two recent conversations are playing in her mind on a loop, overlapping each other: her long talk with Jessica, interrupted by a bar fight and later continued over a glass of wine after Sam and Anthony went to bed, and the phone call with Chozen around midnight that is the reason she and the kids are now on a plane, somewhere over Missouri or Kansas.

“Silver really did everything to isolate him,” Jessie said, her eyes sad, “while making Daniel think he was the only one who could help him. Every time I saw Daniel he had fresh bruises, or hurt his foot, or his knuckles were all raw, but he brushed everyone off, even Mr. Miyagi.”

Amanda’s breath stilled in her chest.

“You mean… Did Silver ever—”

“No,” said Jessie quickly, before wincing a little. “At least I don’t think so. But he manipulated Daniel into believing this violence was what he needed, and that’s… In hindsight, a grown man using that kind of psychological torture on a kid not even eighteen years old? What the hell, right?

“And when the truth came out and Daniel went back with Mr. Miyagi to train, he kinda just… shut down for a while. Concentrated on karate a hundred percent. I had to come back home and I knew he was safe with Mr. Miyagi, but in hindsight I wish I could’ve stayed for the tournament. He needed to see he didn’t have just one person in his corner, especially with that horrible man across the mat.”

Chozen was more succinct, but something about the news he’d delivered echoed Jessica’s words.

“Daniel-san got angry with man on Silver’s payroll. Went back later to apologise.” He paused for a second, inhaled a sharp breath. “I should have come with him, not left him alone. Silver ambushed him.”

“Ambushed?” Amanda asked, an edge in her voice, making a conscious effort not to speak too loudly to avoid waking up her mother in the next room.

“Hai. He was lying in wait. Threatened your children, taunted Daniel-san, and attacked him.”

This time there was a definite catch in Amanda’s voice when she asked, “Attacked him how? What did he do to him?”

“I don’t know yet. Waiting for news from doctor at hospital.”

The next minute, she was firing up her mom’s ancient desktop computer to look for overnight plane tickets to California, still on the phone with Chozen.

She had never intended to leave Daniel, not for good, not even at the height of her anger as she packed her bag after the fiasco at the charity auction. Sure, she was furious with him and his obsession with Terry Silver; the way he made it sound, sometimes, the man was an evil robber baron and Daniel the last honest sheriff west of the Mississippi. But she needed time to cool off and, she figured, he needed the wakeup call.

The thing is, this is not the first time that Daniel has cried wolf. Amanda has seen him fixated before – on Johnny, on Kreese, on anything directly or indirectly approaching Cobra Kai – though never to the point of obsession. After a rough start Johnny turned out to be a flawed but decent human being Amanda found surprisingly easy to get along with, and while John Kreese is much more dangerous than she initially thought, his bad deeds eventually caught up with him and landed him in prison. Good riddance. He’s given her the creeps since the first time she’s seen him and really understood what Daniel, Johnny and especially the kids – all of them – were dealing with.

Terry Silver, however, was soft-spoken and charming, repentant about whatever he’d done in the past that Daniel wouldn’t elaborate on, and had firmly condemned Kreese’s actions and general… Kreeseness.

And despite her own mistrust of the man, Amanda fell for it hook, line and sinker.

Sure, hindsight is supposed to be twenty-twenty, but how could she watch the man she loves – the man she’s lived with for the past two decades – vibrate with fury as he stared at Silver, and think “rivalry”, not “fear”? She knows every nuance of Daniel’s smile, every crease of his eyebrows, all the different ways his hands flitter and flex, and she couldn’t look past the grudge and see the victim?

Daniel has never made any secret of the fact that he was bullied as a teenager, quite the contrary. But that’s different. Johnny and his little Cobra Kai gang were peers, for one. And there is an endgame to the way he’ll talk sometimes about trying to slip fresh bruises past his mother’s notice or getting run down a steep hill on his bike, almost some kind of moral to the story; it comes down to I was bullied, and karate (Mr. Miyagi) saved me. Like the second part softened the memories, somehow, or at least made the first part liveable. Balance, in a way. But the second Johnny resurrected the Cobra Kai dojo, that balance swiftly went out the window and Daniel went from being a somewhat grounded reformed hothead to knee-jerk responses to the lightest provocations – and from a layered but ultimately uncomplicated man to a jigsaw puzzle with critical pieces missing.

It’s not even about Johnny himself, no matter Daniel’s claims in the beginning. It was clear, from the moment Amanda saw Johnny Lawrence for the first time, he and Daniel making each other murder eyes over raised fists in her otherwise tranquil patio, that Daniel was too annoyed by Johnny to be afraid of him.

And now she knows it’s not fully about John Kreese, either.

The most shaken she’s seen Daniel so far was that night last December, when he stormed out after they found their home in shambles and their daughter rattled and hurt. He came back bleeding, tiny shards of glass still clinging to his hair, with the news that the kids of the Valley – and, incidentally, their family – would finally be safe from Cobra Kai if his and Johnny’s students beat Kreese’s at the next tournament.

He was still, then, almost calm, but she’d spotted the remnants of terror lurking in his eyes. She just hadn’t really understood the reason for that until even later that night, when they were holding each other in a hotel bed with the kids sharing the next room.

“I almost killed him,” Daniel murmured, and her eyes popped open in the dark. “He was choking Johnny when I got there, and he’d sent those kids after Sam – I was so angry – he was holding a piece of glass and he said I’d…” He paused, then continued, “I disarmed him and he was down, and I almost killed him anyway.”

Amanda swallowed and tried in vain to calm her racing heart. There was a lot of unpack there.

“But you didn’t, babe,” she whispered back fiercely. “What could have happened doesn’t count, okay? Our family’s safe, Johnny’s safe, the kids are safe – even the wannabe Rambo lunatic is safe, no matter how badly I wish we could’ve shoved that damn snake up his… gi.”

It was a half joke, and in poor taste at that, but Daniel’s little huff of laughter against her collarbone and the way his shoulders relaxed slightly was a victory. Neither of them slept much that night, though.

In retrospect, he wasn’t scared of Kreese as much as of himself that evening. And the tentative friendship between him and Johnny has done both men a lot of good, even after their partnership fell through.

No, Daniel only truly started to unravel when Terry Silver waltzed back into his life. And unlike Johnny’s rough and tumble attitude, unlike Kreese’s blend of physical threat and manipulation, outwardly Silver was grace and elegance and magnanimity. Look at me, he seemed to say in everything but words, how harmless I am, how polite and refined. How rude and unreasonable this silly little man is being.

It was only on the plane to Ohio that Amanda realised – belatedly – how patronising he was being beneath the veneer of affability. And it didn’t hit her until later that he wasn’t patronising to her, but to Daniel.

She thought that being a woman and working in cars, especially from a managerial position, taught her everything about being talked down to, sneered at, or sent away with a metaphorical pat on her head to fetch ‘someone who knows his business’. She’s so used to having to smile while checking for cracks in her armour that it never occurred to her that her husband could present a more vulnerable target.

And on top of everything, that abusive piece of shit threatened their kids?

Amanda takes a deep breath, shoves back down the fury, the fear and the guilt – again – and turns in her seat to check on her son and her daughter one more time.

They’re still asleep.

Good. There’s a long way to go yet.

______________________

(see you in a couple of days for the next one? 💜)

#cobra kai #fanfiction #my stuff

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nibwhipdragon · 2 years

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15 for any character you want🙏

LOOK AT MY COMEDIC AND VAGUELY SPOILERY BREADCRUST CRUSADERS ART, DEMIGRILL

Could not be bothered to do a background <3

I think I've actually gotten better at drawing people over the last few months or so, still can improve on it though.

Things I think I did well on:

• Blood splatter. It's a comedic amount coming out of Dio's head, really adds to the picture tbh

• Joseph's single polygon tits. Absolute 10/10 in my eyes

Things I can improve on

• Hands. The classic. I do em as claws, decided to make that part of my artstyle, but they can 100% be better

•Joseph's face wasn't comedically bloodthirsty enough, Dio's face wasn't comedically harmed enough. Needed it to be more slapstick imo

Whilst making this drawing, I thought about Breadcrust Crusaders Joseph in the Dio chapter and I feel like I should talk about it a little here. It's like a little thing before the Breadcrust anniversary <3 Gonna be under the read more, there's gonna be major spoilers so be warned if you're gonna end up reading the whole duology. It's probably going to be very discorded if you do read it, I have a lot of thoughts and no idea on how to present em properly

I know that Breadcrust Crusaders is meant to be about Joseph (he was the only other character in the dream I had, other than myself and Dio), but GOD, the way I made the plot revolve around him...babygrill I'm so sorry

The fight with Dio is probably one of my favourite scenes with him, I feel it gives the most insight into his character without even being from his POV. I think the fact that the reader has to think "Oh, what's Joseph feeling right now" and extrapolate what he's feeling by putting themselves in Joseph's place instead of simply being given it through a POV is the reason why. I also like it because it's the only point in the entire duology where Joseph was pushed to his breaking point – yes, even with all the fucked up stuff that happens in The McDonald's Crisis of 1999, it never pushed Joseph to the point he snapped like the Dio fight did.

He's been carrying the self-imposed guilt of "killing" Caesar for fifty years, and though he never openly admitted it, knew Polnareff was right. Polnareff was right to be pissed, because Joseph had literally gotten Avdol and Iggy killed in his pursuit of the McRib. Joseph's also fractured the group, by making Polnareff be absolutely pissed at him. That's already a lot of guilt to be holding (wow I sure do hope his choices don't give him even MORE guilt!). And he's already vowed to keep Jotaro and Kakyoin safe so they don't end up like him and Caesar. So, of course, when Dio turns Kakyoin into a glowstick and snaps his spine, he stays and uses his hamon healing to keep Kakyoin dying of shock until help arrives.

And, of course, Jotaro gets pissed and knowingly runs headfirst into Dio's trap of getting him alone for easier disposal. And Joseph doesn't chase after him. Joseph stays with Kakyoin. He doesn't want Kakyoin to die, because he knows it'd mess up Jotaro badly. He stays with Kakyoin, faintly hoping that Jotaro's going to be alright on his own for the time being, until Polnareff or Joseph himself finds him and assists him.

And well. If any of you here have read Breadcrust Crusaders, then. Yeah. Jotaro was certainly having A Very Not Good Time.

So he end up hearing Jotaro crying to the heavens for help (Jotaro taking that massive L deserves its own post tbh) when searching for him, immediately heads in the direction of the call for help, and sees Dio just straight up fucking around with Jotaro, whose badly wounded on the ground. Quite literally like how a cat plays with the mice it catches, putting it through unnecessary suffering for its own pleasure.

Though it wasn't fully intentional, Joseph is quite a mellow character. Even when he fought Alessi, he still was playful and goofy, not really being as involved in the battle as one would expect (that whole paragraph where he's confused about the clothes he's wearing and that he'd never wear those clothes...babygrill there is a guy trying to kill you). Hell, the only time I think he'd gotten aggressive was when he snapped at Jotaro. Even then, him snapping at Jotaro was only a knee-jerk reaction to what Jotaro had said about beating Dio on his own. Joseph immediately apologised for it after as well.

And after all that had happened in the Dio chapter, he sees Jotaro in that state, and straight up snaps. He had still been somewhat lighthearted when fighting Dio previously, but at this point he just absolutely loses it. It's actually the most violent he's actually ever gotten in the duology!

And then, of course, despite the hamon healing he then gives Jotaro, Jotaro dies. He chose to stay with Kakyoin, and ended up causing Jotaro's death. I think it fits really well for the sort of themes I was going for with the fic, tragedy and how Joestars pull people they care about into pain and suffering because of fate and such. God, if only I decided to keep Jotaro dead...it would've fit a lot better.

Ok as I'm writing this I've just realised that literally every character death in the series can be linked back to Joseph and his choices. God. That was completely unintentional but holy shit it fits the theme so well. Like, he tries his hardest to have people not die and ends up killing them in the process, it gets to the point where he's actively trying to bend the narrative to his will, making threats to a God (me) that he can quite literally never follow up on because I am flesh and bone, and he's just pixels on a screen and bits of data...He needs choccy milk, maybe that'll fix everything I've put him through

Ok I am definitely going to end up getting sidetracked so I'm gonna end this little rant thing very soon. I just really love the Dio beatdown given by Joseph, it's as if his pent up feelings towards himself are being channelled into that beatdown and just. Breadcrust Crusaders Joseph my beloved

#me when I forger to tag this #ask game answers #jjba #joseph joestar #dio brando #Breadcrust Crusaders #blood tw #nibwhip doodles

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pareidoliajules · 2 years

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awake & unafraid; asleep, or dead

I don’t go here, but @humanbeanisnotamused does, and everything I know about CR I’ve learned from their screaming liveblogging, except for the timeline of this particular fight, which I got from this very impressive post from @peaceowatermeln. Mad respect, friend.

Also, there is brief allusion to possible suicidal ideation, and this is obviously Super Spoilery for c3e33. Please tread carefully.

Don’t die. That had been Orym’s one job, the one thing he’d promised. Don’t die. Two little words.

It had seemed like an easy promise to keep, when he made it. Less easy was the promise he made himself - keep the others safe. He was not a leader; he refused to be a leader, but the others…in spite of everything, he cared for them. Even if he didn’t, he wasn’t the sort of person who was built to save himself while others suffered. It just wasn’t something he could do. Not after…not after everything.

Although they made it difficult, Orym didn’t think that promise would be impossible to keep, either.

Then Ashton went down. The chaos of it all, and Ashton was down. Orym couldn’t let that stand; they needed Ashton. Ashton couldn’t go down. A healing potion, one of precious few it suddenly seemed, poured into Ashton’s waiting mouth, the one-two-three heartbeats of fear that somehow it wouldn’t work, that this would be the one time a healing potion just wasn’t enough–

Ashton was back. He was back with them, back on this side of that great black chasm, back where he was supposed to be.

The relief that crashed through him couldn’t last long; Ashton was back and there was as little time to celebrate as there would have been to mourn.

Mourning. Hadn’t Orym mourned enough?

After Will had died, Orym spent some time wondering what the point of even being alive was. Secretly, of course, only in the darkness of sleepless nights, when the bed was too big and too empty. What was the point of it all? Why shouldn’t he join Will? Wherever Will was, that was where Orym was supposed to be, too.

It never got further than thinking, though, because Orym knew, in the cold light of a shy dawn, that Will would never forgive him. If he gave up what Will had had taken from him.

Plus, there was the matter of vengeance. Will hadn’t died peacefully in his sleep; Orym’s rage wasn’t at the mercilessness of the universe or the entropic march of time, ever forward.

Orym’s rage was directed at a single person. He hadn’t known who - he hadn’t known what single person he was hunting for. He just hadn’t realized it until right that second, when he took a beat and looked around and had the worst sense that he’d fought this fight before.

He’d fought this fight before and lost. He’d lost everything.

The single person that had taken everything from Orym was trying to come back for the sickest sort of encore.

Orym was not unfamiliar with death, no. He wasn’t unfamiliar with losing.

It was not Orym’s first brush with death. It wasn’t even his first brush with death at the hands of this particular being, Orym realized, too late, too late, too late.

He had lost, last time. Sure, he’d lived, but at what cost? In every way that mattered, last time he’d seen this–this woman, if she could be called as much–Orym had lost everything. She’d taken everything from him, and now she was back to take everything again.

Once upon a time, Orym hadn’t even been able to imagine that he would ever have anything to take, again. He didn’t think he would ever care, not really, not about anyone. Not after what she did to him. What she did to Will. He didn’t think he would find himself in this situation, and so he foolishly hadn’t been preparing for it.

That’s the thing about death. No matter how prepared you are, you’re not really ever ready.

He was unfamiliar with being lost.

But in the in-between, that felt far away. It wasn’t a place; it wasn’t a feeling; it wasn’t anything except what it was. It wasn’t where he was supposed to be, and he turned, and took something like a step back toward where he was supposed to be - there, with his friends, they needed him, they needed him badly - and felt himself take two steps away from them. No, that wasn’t right.

None of this was right.

Orym chanced a look around. Shadows, everywhere; shadows without a source of light to create them. Shadows, moving, like the tide, like clouds.

Orym wasn’t afraid. He should have been, maybe. It was so quiet here. It was almost peaceful–

Fearne. He could feel her energy, he felt the jolt that grounded him, that brought color and focus back to his eyes. He was needed here. These people needed him.

And he needed them, too.

The fight was ongoing. Every time Orym felt like they made progress, like they had the ghost of a whisper of a chance, he had to see someone else fall. Someone else, lying there, eyes open in shock–that this, that death, was not some far-off inevitablity. It had come and gone for them, almost before they’d even realized what was happening.

Fearne. Laudna.

Imogen.

These people. These friends. These heroes. How had he not realized how strong they were? How had he thought, all this time, that they needed him? What was he, compared to the ferocious power he saw in all of them, in that moment?

Why hadn’t he realized sooner? He should have known. He should have gotten them as far away from this place as possible. He should have tried harder to save them from ever being in this position, this impossible position.They never should’ve been here in the first place; Orym should’ve realized sooner who and what she was.

But he hadn’t, and now, they were facing a nightmare.

They moved as one. Fighting and healing and saving and falling and failing, like an orchestrated being, like all of this was happening on purpose.

None of this was happening on purpose. None of this was right.

It was his job to make it right; to save these beautiful, fierce, brave souls from ever having to see the place he’d gone. Fearne, Chetney, Ashton…none of them belonged in that shadowy world. Not even Laudna, so bright, in spite of it all. Orym didn’t know if Letters would see the same place the rest of them would, but he knew that he didn’t want to find out.

Job one: don’t die.

Job one: Keep everyone else alive.

So he fought. He fought and he fought and he fought and when the crushing weight hit him with the force of a mountain and knocked the air from his lungs and the focus from his eyes, he reached–he had to say he was sorry, he had to say he tried, he had to say he loves--

Orym wasn’t used to the feeling of the sending stone slipping through numb fingers.

He wasn’t acquainted with the way the world went dark slowly, and then all at once, the darkness at the edges of his eyes suddenly covering him like a blanket.

He was all too used to the last, sinking knowledge that he’d fought and lost everything, again. He’d failed at the only job that mattered, again.

“We’ve met before, haven’t we?”

He wasn’t ready to be mourned.

“Yeah.”

Will’s face swam before his eyes. A shadow, an echo.

A promise.

At least this time–this last time–he wouldn’t have to mourn.

Orym of the Air Ashari would never mourn again..

#cr spoilers #critical role fic #orym of the air ashari #critical role #critical role spoilers #bells hells #bell's hells #cr3e33 #julie writes #dnd: cr #i guess

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glorious-blackout · 2 years

Note

3, 21, 23, 30, 43 for the writer ask 😘

Thank you! 🥰

3. Are there any fics that inspired you to write what you do?

There must have been so many over the years! In terms of my writing style/favourite genres I've probably been inspired more by novels than fic ('A Series of Unfortunate Events' and '1984' have a lot to answer for), but I remember a couple of fics in the Muse fandom that I fell in love with when I first started out eleven(!) years ago.

One was called Wires which was an exercise in heartbreak and well-utilised present-tense, while another was called Synapse which was a wonderfully weird sci-fi story. Sadly Wires was deleted ages ago and I've never been able to find a copy of it, but Synapse has been preserved on AO3 😊

21. What’s your least favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

The final few edits, where you've read the story so many times that you're sick of the sight of it 😅 I tend to overthink things like word-choice and sentence structure to the story's detriment by that point.

I think that's partly why feedback is so important for writers. Seeing someone's reaction to experiencing your story for the first time can mean the world when you've been hyper-critical of it for so long.

23. What’s your absolute favorite trope to write?

Does 'Main Character Being Put Through All the Wringers' count? 😅 I am an angst-junkie at heart... I don't usually think of tropes when I'm writing, but 'friends to lovers' has a habit of cropping up in my Milex fics 🥰

30. Post a snippet from your current WIP without context - no more than 300 words

I'll refrain from posting a snippet of my current WIP as it's technically a surprise, but I can share this (hopefully) non-spoilery bit from my big-bang fic:

"It was a sweat-soaked, sultry summer that heralded the birth of their third baby.

At the height of an oppressive heatwave, the fierce sun had radiated the sleepy London streets, projecting illusions of melted tarmac and puddles that vanished the instant one drew near. News channels became preoccupied with reports of the third record-breaking summer in a row, the south of England depicted in blistering red on their displayed maps, and Alex’s delicate skin had adopted a permanent pink hue in spite of his ritualistic applications of suncream.

It had been easy to ignore the fact that the planet was on fire. Within the safe, air-conditioned confines of Abbey Road Studios, Alex and Miles had shed all thoughts of the outside world as they noodled away on guitars and drew up new melodies on the piano. During lunch breaks they sat together, knee to knee like the old days, poring over lyrics and celebrating whenever a perfect metaphor joined their frantic scribbles. Within their safe cocoon, inspiration flared like an Olympic flame, unflinching and undying even in rare moments of creative conflict. The album came together almost too smoothly – certainly too quickly for Alex’s taste – as Miles’s reawakened love for Northern Soul married Alex’s seventies head in perfect harmony."

43. Talk about a positive experience with fanfiction or the fanfiction community that you will always remember

One of the best experiences I've ever had was writing a fic called 'Watch Our Souls Fade Away' which I'd initially posted as a one-shot, expecting it to be quickly forgotten, only to receive a humungous wave of support for it. The wonderful feedback inspired me to add several more chapters and it remains one of the most positive writing experiences I've ever had.

Another was sharing 'You've Always Been Here' which I again expected to just be a little project shared between friends, but @elorianna stumbled upon it and convinced me to post it on AO3. Thanks to that story I've met some wonderful friends within the Milex fandom, and it also marks the first time someone else has written something based on my own fic (@alexxturner-me-on's wonderful 'T-Minus Your Last Five Minutes') which might just be the coolest feeling in the world 😭🥰

#writing asks #long post

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donuts-and-honey-toast · 5 years

Text

DRRB Memes 3/?

[Disclaimer: All characters in this image and Danganronpa:Rebirth are made by Miwashiba and are not affiliated with the canon franchise.]

#ayumu fujimori #akira tsuchiya #kazuomi samejima #kego sakuma #maiko kagura #mikoto itsuki #mitsunari koga #narumi osone #nico himuro #seishi yodogawa #aruma todoroki #drrb #danganronpa rebirth spoilers #only the last few are spoilery but just to be safe

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interact-if · 3 years

Text

Day 6 of A/PI Heritage Month featured authors interview! Perceive Nines, me, yours truly!

Nines, author of Orthall Bay

A/PI Heritage Month Featured Author

[…]The name always stuck, regardless of how many foster families you fell under. It should be comforting that at least one aspect of you will always stay the same, but it’s a stark reminder of how isolated you are. A name with nothing to belong to, nothing to trace back to. Then again, you’ve managed to get this far just on your own.

In Orthall Bay, an in-development interactive fiction, you play as a young adult who grew up as an orphan. You have no knowledge about your parents, or any form of family. That is, until you get a phone call about a recently-passed man claiming to be your grandfather. Two things are certain when you arrive in the maritime town. One, Orthall Bay is seemingly idyllic. And two, there’s no such thing as perfect towns.

The question is, how deep does its roots go?

Author's Ko-fi

(INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT UNDER THE CUT!)

Q1: First of all, introduce us to your project! What is it about?

My current project is about you, an orphan, who moves to a fictional tourist town in California after being left as a beneficiary of your estranged late grandfather’s will. Orthall Bay is rich with supernatural myths and superstitious legends, and it has always thrived like that. Not long after your arrival, you start to notice that a lot of things about the seemingly arcadian town don't add up. At the center of it? You, and your equally estranged half-uncle.

Q2: If it’s not too spoilery, what are you most excited about your project?

Ooh, this is a bit tricky to answer! There’s so many things I’m looking forward to exploring with writing Orthall Bay, it’s hard to nitpick a few. Right now, I’m excited about building characters with depth that people would both be able to criticize and appreciate. It’s an easy choice to write characters you know your audience is coded to love and/or admire, but I want to explore the opportunities with character development depth that interactive fiction brings. Who knows, maybe I’m thinking of allowing my characters to go down the paths less taken.

Q3: What inspired the current project you’re working on?

Ah, man, I just know my October 2020 self is burying their head under a pillow right now. The idea for Orthall Bay was actually a mosaic of lines from fics of various fandoms, but what really set off the lightbulb was a line from a Teen Wolf fic. It’s very telling of the direction I want to take this project, so I won’t write it down, but I am going to leave a tiny crumb. One word: widdershins.

Q4: Do you pull from your own identity for inspiration? How has that been reflected in your work?

Orthall Bay is set in California which houses a sizable Asian-Pacific Islander population, but that being said, it’s not heavily focused on. A lot of my characters are A/PI but I can’t definitively say that I’m rooting from my own identity. It’s a supernatural book, and I’m drawing from all sorts of mythological creatures and lores and making them into my own. So, in a way, I’m allowing Orthall Bay to be a project where I let it take an identity of its own. I’m pretty sure I’ll come up with future projects that are more SEA-centric though!

Q5: What’s been your experience so far? With writing, with the IF community…

The jump from writing novels to writing interactive fiction was a bit of an adjustment. I haven’t been a very consistent writer, but most of my works were novels and its fixed worlds. Interactive fiction is different because you have to actively bind the story together in a way that makes your reader feel involved. And you have to be constantly aware of that. I still end up drafting a chapter, only to realize I forgot to lay out options that matter. It’s definitely a learning curve, but it’s worth it and very rewarding.

As for the IF community, I genuinely believe it’s one of the most welcoming and supportive communities I’ve had the pleasure of being a part of. Really, it’s heartwarming to see writers excited about their upcoming projects and being met with equal, if not more, enthusiasm from a potential audience. It’s not without flaws, sure, but the sheer amount of support you can garner is incredible. As a writer trying out a new medium, it’s one of the things that helped boost my confidence to continue working on my project.

Q6: Do you have any future projects in the works?

I do! GFTA is my baby, and I plan on nurturing it for a long time. Currently, I have about three ideas I’m considering to turn into actual projects, one of them being sci-fi and inspired by a game. As of now though, I’ll mostly be working on Orthall Bay. This is due to restrictions from my schedule, but it’s safe to say that I’ll be around for more than just a while. I’m absolutely dedicated to establishing my own platform within the IF community.

Q7: Finally, what piece of advice would you give to fellow authors?

Hmm, I’m not sure I’m the best person to ask since I’ve only recently started writing interactive fiction, but I’d like to say this: you are your first and last audience. Always. Every project starts off as self-indulgence to some degree or extent, and that’s okay. Write what you want to write, not what everyone demands. Pleasing your audience is a grey area and you won’t be able to satisfy everyone. It’s important to take criticism into account, but please remember you don't owe anyone anything for writing media that they actively have a choice whether or not to consume.

#if: events #Happy Asian and Pacific Islander month!!#Asian/pacific islander month 2021 #a/pi month #a/pi month 2021 #aapiheritagemonth #aapi month #interactive fiction #authors of color

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alittlextrathatway · 3 years

Text

So, I’ve changed tactics on a multichap I started and because of that, this intro to the first chapter is now defunct. Instead of letting it get dusty in my google docs I thought I would share the non-spoilery bits. Enjoy!

******

Severide knows why he’s up early. He has to be.

A day of fishing that starts late is a waste of time.

Boden can’t come to the bachelor party mostly as a result of the extremely thin professional and personal boundary he tries to maintain between himself and 51. Instead he offered to take the day off and go fishing with Kelly on his boat.

It’s a compromise Kelly can definitely live with.

What he didn’t expect when he woke up that morning was to find Sylvie Brett leaning against his kitchen island with a cup of coffee in her hands.

He stops and blinks tiredly at her. “What time is it?” He asks her.

“Five, why?” She says through a yawn.

“Just making sure I hadn’t missed my alarm. Last time you slept over no one saw you before lunchtime — and by you I mean you and Matt.”

She blushes but grins without shame. “I have somewhere to be today and Matt has shift so an early start it is.”

He walks around the island and gently hip checks her, playfully making room for himself in front of the coffee maker. “You’re off today too?”

She nods and bounces on her feet as a beaming smile spreads over her lips. In these moments, he remembers Sylvie when she was green and earnest, getting to know everyone at 51 for the very first time. She hasn’t changed too much, thank god. Not in any detrimental way at least. He’s watched from the sidelines for years as she became better and stronger — a leader the CFD could be proud of. He was in her orbit a lot in those early days but as life became busier that fell away and now that she’s dating Matt he finds himself growing close to her again.

He regrets ever letting them drift apart. He’s ashamed to say that he forgot how much fun she could be.

��I’m babysitting Amelia today,” she tells him. “Scott has a last minute all day work thing and his nanny is out of town so it’s Big Sister Sylvie to the rescue.”

“As opposed to every day Sylvie who never saves lives,” he teases dryly.

She rolls her eyes with a chuckle. “Right. Anyway, I still have to go back to my place and pack before I can hit the road.”

“Casey isn’t insisting on driving you?” Severide asks her with a knowing smirk. Every time Brett makes the trip out to Rockford, Matt makes sure to go with her. Casey would never admit it outloud, but Sylvie’s little sister has him wrapped around her tiny little finger. So does Sylvie Brett, but that’s beside the point at the moment.

She laughs lightly and shakes her head. “He tried, but I told him the house couldn’t afford to be missing both the PIC and the Captain at the last minute. Not with Boden no longer at 51 anyway. That seemed to convince him.”

“It would,” Kelly replies, laughing with her. “We’re all suckers for 51 and any of the people in it.”

There’s a shuffling sound from the other end of the room and they both look up just in time to see Matt walk into the living room.

“Are you leaving already?” He asks Sylvie as he joins them in the kitchen.

She nods and hands him her half finished coffee. “I need to be at Scott’s early so he can leave for work and I still have to pack.” Her arms go around his neck, she leans into his chest, and places a lingering kiss on his lips. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to leave without a proper goodbye. I promise.”

Matt’s arm circles her waist and pulls her flush against him, with their shared coffee in his free hand. “I’d hope not. We’d have to have a serious talk if you did.”

“You two are gross,” Severide declares with a teasing grimace. “Too new, too cute. Take it back to your room, Case.”

“You’re one to talk,” Matt fires back with a wide grin. “You and Kidd are equally disgusting.” He takes a sip of the coffee and then winces, turning to Sylvie with a mock accusatory glare. “How much sugar did you put in this?”

“Less than I normally do,” she replies, poking his side playfully. “Do you have something to say about it?”

Casey yelps and squirms away from her with a laugh. “No, babe. Not a single complaint. I’m fine with drinking mostly sugar and cream.”

Sylvie chuckles and pokes him again. “God, you’re a jerk.”

As much as Kelly teases them, he doesn’t actually find them disgusting. If he’s truthful, he’s ecstatic for Casey. And for Brett too. They’re two of the best people he knows and they’ve both had a lot of bad luck over the last few years. He’s relieved to see them happy and joyful. Casey may think he and Stella have a unique connection, but Casey and Brett have one too. One grown from friendship and mutual respect. It’s a stronger foundation than Severide had with Kidd when they started. He has a feeling his best friend has finally found his forever person and he anticipates things will move faster than either of them are willing to admit right now.

When Matt commits, he commits. It won’t take them long to take the next step. Whatever that looks like for them.

Sylvie takes her coffee back for another gulping sip and then sets it on the counter. “I should head out.”

Matt leans down to kiss her quickly and casually. “Be careful. Call me before you actually get on the road, yeah?”

“Of course,” she assures him as she runs a soft caress over his cheek. “I’ll call you when I leave for Rockford and when I get to Scott’s. I promise.” She grabs her duffle from where it sits by the door and slings the strap over her shoulder. “Have fun on your day off, Severide!”

“And you enjoy that little sister of yours!”

“You know I will!”

Matt walks her out of the loft with one hand on the small of her back and a besotted grin on his face. Severide chuckles softly and shakes his head.

As long as he’s known Matt, he’s never seen him so gone on anyone. He’s glad Casey and Brett worked it out. They deserve someone who reciprocates their feelings unconditionally.

******

Since Kelly and Sylvie are off, Matt offers to drive Stella to work in his truck. Carpooling saves her gas and mileage so she quickly agrees.

Severide is already gone by the time she wakes up. Fishing with Boden is serious business. She knows better than to keep him from it or delay him from leaving precisely when he means to.

On the way to the Firehouse, Matt’s phone rings from the phone mount on his dash. At the sight of Sylvie’s name he eagerly hits speaker.

“Hey,” he greets.

Stella grins at his chipper tone. It took them a while but she’s grateful her two best friends got their act together finally.

“Hey!”

“Stella’s with me. We’re on our way to work.”

“Oh! Hey, Stella!”

“Hey, Brett! How’s it going?”

“Good! Just stopping for a sugary treat before I hit the road.”

“Bear claw from The Doughnut Vault?” Matt asks knowingly.

“Of course! What else?”

He rolls his eyes with fond frustration. “That’s hardly breakfast.”

“I’ll make sure to eat some real food once I’m at Scott’s,” she promises. “I’m about to head that way now. Should be there in a couple of hours at most.”

“Good,” Matt agrees. “And don’t get so caught up in Mia that you forget to call me when you get there, okay?”

She laughs and the sound is bright. Brighter than anyone’s laugh should be before 8 in the morning, Stella thinks.

“I’ll do my absolute best not to forget. Believe me. I need to get on the road though so I should get off of here.”

“Okay, drive safe. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

“Bye, Brett! Give that baby a good squeeze for me!” Stella chimes in.

“I will! Have a safe shift, both of you.”

“I’ll try and keep the Captain in line but I make no promises. You know how he is.”

Sylvie laughs again but Stella can hear the genuine nerves underneath it. “I do know. Just make sure he stays in one piece.”

“Now that I think I can do.”

“Okay, okay, enough picking on me. Are you two done?” Matt asks with a dry laugh.

“For now,” Sylvie replies. “Call you when I get there. And then I’ll brag about how I’m getting all the baby cuddles and you’re not getting any of them.”

“Damn, Brett,” Stella says with a chuckle. “That’s cold!”

“I try to tell people how mean she is but no one will believe me,” Matt says, shaking his head and grinning playfully. “Take lots of pictures.”

“That’s a given. Talk to you later. I promise.”

“I’m holding you to that. If you don’t I’ll come looking for you. Don’t think I won’t,” Matt threatens, half seriously.

“Oh, I have no doubt you would. If only for the chance to be a baby hog. See you later!”

“Later,” Matt says just before she disconnects the call.

“You two sound sickeningly happy,” Stella observes, grinning widely.

“That’s what Severide said,” Matt replies with a chuckle. “And, you know what, I think we are. Sylvie is…well, she’s the best thing to happen to me in a very long time. So, if that means I’m disgustingly infatuated with her for the rest of my life then I’m okay with that.”

“It may be disgusting,” Stella concedes. “But it’s a good look for you. For her too. You both deserve someone who gives as much as you do. And there’s no one who gives more than you and Brett.”

Matt glances over at her as he parks his truck with a grateful expression. “Thank you, Kidd. I appreciate that.”

“Hey, I just call it like I see it.”

#brettsey #chicago fire #sylveride #kiddsey #brett x casey #my fic #angellwings writes #deleted scenes

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c-is-for-circinate · 3 years

Note

So uh, would the end of runs count as an escalation of the abuse? Like Ik it's a last resort to stop Zagreus from leaving, but it also shows that he has no qualms with hurting Zag to get what he wants.

I definitely had not yet gotten to the end of a run when you sent this ask, nonny, and I was all set to scold you gently for spoilery stuff, but you were actually trying very hard to be nonspecific and this only pinged as a spoiler because I was already pretty sure how things were going to end anyway. So good job trying to be vague! I have now fought through to what is fairly clearly the final boss, and my answer is, categorically, ABSOLUTELY FUCKING YES.

(We are going to just keep putting Hades posts under cuts until they stop being about a parent abusing their kid! I realize this helps nobody on mobile and I am tagging for that purpose but hey, at least I might save someone's dash! I swear I will talk about other things in this game eventually! Until then, once again, CW abuse.)

It’s not even about the violence, entirely. Like, yes, it’s about the violence--but Hades has shown all along that he has no qualms with hurting Zag (with killing him, over and over again) to get what he wants. Even if we take most of the enemies we’re facing as general nuisances of the zones we travel through, and not Hades’ doing (and oh, if Hades wanted he could give Zagreus a safe escort through those zones in an instant), there are obstacles put in our way that are obviously and deliberately commanded by Hades to stop us at all costs. The level bosses, for one. (Also, remember the Hades voiceovers we get at every ‘survive for 45 seconds’ level?) He wants us to stop. He wants us to die, and yes we’ll come back, but he’s still setting his employees to hurt us, so like, that’s very much a thing to begin with.

The fact that he’s willing to take up arms against us and kill us himself probably feels like a big escalation to Hades personally. What really gets me is the dialogue. “I have always kept my temper, unlike you.” Wildly revisionist history, placing all of the blame for what’s about to happen on Zagreus the victim for ‘making me do this’. The absolute disgust and disdain, when he finally gets us. “I have slain titans, boy.” He’s spent a lot of time throwing scathing remarks in our general direction, wanting us to bow under them, being blandly sarcastic and self-satisfied and smug, but he's never sounded like that.

Because, before now, he thought we couldn’t do what we set out to do. He thought our suffering as we tried was its own punishment, and he enjoyed watching that punishment. He did not watch us fail with the affectionate resignation of a parent watching a child learn a harsh lesson. He watched us and gloated.

The thing that infuriates him now is not that we’re trying to do the thing we literally said we were trying to do ninety-eight runs ago at the start of the game. He could have stopped us from trying at any time. Hypnos to put us to sleep. Literal chains. Had he bothered for five seconds to actually step into the courtyard beyond our room, we could be disarmed and helpless. But it’s fun for him to watch us fail, and it proves that he’s right about us and how pathetic we are, and it reassures him that he’s right about the universe, that nobody can escape from Hades, that we are stupid and foolish and weak. What drives him to such absolute fury now is not that we’re trying, but the fact that we’re about to succeed. We’re going to prove him wrong, prove that he was wrong about how he handled this situation in the first place, and that’s flatly unacceptable.

There is no interpretation of this fight that does not include Hades wanting us to feel inferior, subjugated, crushed. It’s not about keeping us in his realm. It’s about breaking us, for daring to try to escape in the first place.

No matter why he’s doing it. And let’s get into that for a sec, the “it’s a last resort to stop Zagreus from leaving” bit. At this point in the game, I don’t know why Hades is so desperate to stop Zag from leaving. I haven’t found out yet! Don’t tell me! Don’t hint about it! But from where I’m standing, I can see, hmm, five main possibilities?

He is trying to protect Zagreus from something on the surface.

He is trying to protect the world from Zagreus, whose arrival out of hell will destroy something/everything in some magic way that Hades knows about but keeps secret.

Zagreus is actually a prisoner, meant to be chained in the Underworld for crimes he doesn’t remember committing, Tisiphone is right, and we were meant to be as condemned as Sisyphus all along but Hades has been generous.

Hades made it law a long time ago that nobody and nothing escapes the Underworld, and Zagreus cannot be allowed to break that law because nobody breaks Hades’ laws, period. He could have chosen to make an exception but he did not, so all of this is flagrantly illegal and needs to be punished.

Hades himself is trapped in the Underworld, or at least feels that way, and is projecting and taking it out on his kid.

My best guess is that it’s some combination of a few of those (like, I am fairly sure that #5 is absolutely true no matter what other reasons are in place as well). Thing is? While I’m curious about this mystery for the story’s sake, I also really fundamentally do not care.

Any one of these things could better have been accomplished by telling Zagreus literally anything. Even if there’s magic and prophecy bullshit binding Hades away from explaining the whole truth, it is not hard to hint at vague disaster befalling innocent bystanders “because of cosmic reasons I am beholden to keep secret”. Hell, Hades’ own life becomes easier if he restrains himself just the tiniest bit in an effort to make Zagreus not want to leave in the first place. Hades clearly does not want this to be happening! He doesn’t seem to regret any of his actions, but he sure is annoyed and infuriated that he has to go through the trouble of doing them. Literally one explanation could solve so much.

If the reason is to protect Zagreus? Then it is one thousand times bullshit, and I think the game knows that. (The game has to know that.) When your kid is so miserable that they’d rather flee straight into traffic to escape you, then your kid is not safe. Nothing that could hurt him on the surface--finding out that Persephone doesn’t love him and never did and in fact wants him dead and tortured for eternity--is any worse than what he’s facing down here. He already knows one parent feels that way. At least out of the Underworld he has the option to find some relatives who don’t.

And yet this situation doesn’t ping the “stupid plot that could never happen because it entirely rests on unrealistically shitty communication” sensors. Because it absolutely, categorically makes sense for the Hades we’ve come to know to refuse to explain himself. Whether he’s got good reasons or bad ones, HIS WORD IS LAW, and how dare anybody ask him to justify or clarify it, ever.

I am very very sure that Hades has lots of reasons: reasons for being furious, and bitter, and for making rules about his son never leaving the Underworld, and for being so desperate to enforce those rules, and for all of it. Some of them may even be good. What makes him an abuser, what those reasons do not and cannot justify, is the verbal and physical violence he uses against the people in his care to cope with those problems.

#asked and answered #cw abuse #LIKE VERY CW ABUSE #hades game #hades spoilers #C plays stuff #I swear to GOD at some point I will talk about other stuff with this game #it does such interesting things with Greek mythology!#it is SO COOL how they use the metastructure of a roguelike #as an ENHANCEMENT of the story they want to tell #so that game dynamics and story elements are one and the same #there is so much to say #but #we are back here again #because apparently this is just where my brain lives rn #it's REALLY COMPELLING ok #Anonymous

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the-iceni-bitch · 3 years

Text

An Early Christmas Gift

Pairing: Surprise (male protag) x Female Reader

Word Count: 5130

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, explicit language, it’s porn y’all, 18+, SPOILERY CONTENT WARNINGS BELOW THE CUT! PLEASE BE MINDFUL!

A/N: Well ladies, school is slow, I’m off work, and I’m horny, so I have decided to bless you all with my second fic, also a submission in the 2020 Happy Hoeliday’s challenge hosted by the absolutely lovely @stargazingfangirl18, @donutloverxo, and @navybrat817. I wanted to do something a little different with this one, where you don’t find out who your partner is until you get below the cut, like a fun little Christmas surprise. Due to the nature of this fic, there is some content that could be potentially upsetting that would also constitute potential spoilers, the the warnings for those are in the text itself. Please see further notes at the end of the fic and enjoy this little gift from me to you!

“Look honey, they’re perfect!” You exclaimed as you held up the tiny hat and booty set. “Gabi will love them!”

You hadn’t planned on doing any more Christmas shopping, but when your sister called as you were driving around the countryside surrounding Gruyeres to let you know she was pregnant, you knew you had to grab something from one of the adorable shops in the medieval Swiss town.

“Cadeau emballé s'il vous plaît.” You murmured to the shopkeeper as you handed over your payment, and within a few minutes you were walking out of the shop with a beautifully wrapped package, arm in arm with your partner. You were idly chatting about your plans for tomorrow (you’d have to be sure to get up early to ship your gift to Gabi) as you turned down an alleyway on the way back to your inn.

“Ah, fuck.” He murmured as you were halfway down the alley, and suddenly he had you pressed up against the wall with his mouth on yours. You dropped the bag containing your gift in surprise.

He pressed one palm against the small of your back to hold you flush against him while the other held his balance against the stone wall. One of his thighs moved in between your legs and started to edge your wool pencil skirt slowly upward. You got over the surprise quickly and brought your hands up to latch onto his hair as his tongue ran along your lower lip and you moaned into his mouth.

~~~~~~~~WARNING: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE~~~~~~~~~~

You almost missed the stranger that came up behind him and pressed a gun to his head.

“Que faites-vous?” the man hissed at you. You noticed four more men, two at each end of the alley, starting to move closer and started to sob.

“Qu'est-ce que vous voulez?” You gasped through a steady stream of tears. Your partner’s hands were now raised in supplication as his jaw clenched in a look of frustration.

“Pourquoi me suivez-vous, eh?” The man had now turned his attention to you, since you were the only one saying anything.

“We, we weren’t…” You had now reverted to your native English as you started to sink down the wall, a blubbering mess.

The man stepped forward and trained his gun on you, shifting his balance as he moved.

You ducked under your partner’s arm as you loosened one of the knives sewn into your coat sleeve, caught the wrist of the hand holding the gun, and slashed down his brachial artery.

“Merde!” he shouted, stumbling backwards as blood rushed down his arm. You could hear the other men cursing under their breath as they started to rush you.

You flipped the blade you were holding into your palm, then flung it into the throat of the nearest assailant before shrugging out of your coat. August was already out of his and was pulling out the gun he had tucked into his waistband.

“They’re too close for that.” You told him as the last three closed in on you. Then you saw 2 more rushing into the alley and let out a sigh. “Damn.”

The newcomers started firing as you dove into a nook in the wall. August had his sights trained on them as he started to take his shots. The other three were on you in seconds.

You managed to dodge the first few punches as you drew two new knives from inside your boot. You caught a glancing blow to your ribs before kicking the culprit twice, once to the diaphragm, once to the face. You felt arms wrap around you from behind as you were lifted off the ground by the largest lackey. You started gasping as he began to squeeze the air out of your lungs.

You whipped your head back fast and felt a crunch as you connected with his nose. He dropped you to the ground with a hiss and you plunged a knife back and connected with flesh, earning yourself a momentary reprieve. You used the other knife to cut a slit up the thigh of your skirt to allow you to move more.

The gunfire had stopped at this point and you managed to catch a glimpse of August grappling with one of the gunmen before one of your assailants bowled into you. As he tried to flip you onto your back, you managed to take over the momentum and wrap your knee around his neck until you heard a snap.

You felt a sharp pain in your side as you straightened back up and were fairly sure you now had a broken rib. You turned to face your final attacker when you heard a choked off scream and a body flew into your field of vision, crashing into the man you were facing.

You turned to your left to see August pumping his fists as he strode after the man he had just thrown across the alleyway like a ragdoll. You squared up shoulder to shoulder as your two opponents did the same.

The final fight started with a crash. The two of you had vastly different fighting styles. You were all strategy, dodging most blows, planning your strikes for maximum damage. August was all brute force; he simply absorbed any body shots and knew that the size and force of his fists would cause damage no matter where they landed. The fight finally ended with your opponent with a knife through his eye, while August’s opponent’s head was almost ripped off with a broken neck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~END OF CONTENT WARNING~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Motherfucker,” you exclaimed, “they shot the baby gift!”

August was already dialing a sanitation team as you went over to inspect the damage. You may have been able to salvage it if someone hadn’t managed to bleed into the bullet hole in the packaging, soaking the beanie and booties.

Leaving the ruined present behind, you went to search the corpses for any useful information. You found one potentially salvageable cell phone (it was only covered in blood, not crushed) and nothing else.

“Shit”

“Sloane wants to talk to you,” August said, handing you his cell.

“Y/L/N, you wanna tell me what exactly the situation is there?”

“Did Walker not give you a run down?”

“His run downs tend to be minimal at best, this one was ‘lots of dead bodies in an alley, send a team.’”

You winced as you touched your ribs to assess the damage. “Yeah, that sounds like him. They made us and boxed us in. I have one cell I may be able to get something out of. Does rice work for absorbing blood or just water?”

You heard a snort over the line. “Take it back to your safe house and I’ll have an analyst pick it up tomorrow. Right now, you need to get out of there, we’re showing law enforcement heading to your location.”

“Alright. Hey, can you have that analyst pick up a replacement baby gift for me?” You asked as you held up a blood-soaked booty.

“Sure, they love when I give them errands.” You heard the sarcasm dripping from her voice.

“We’re on our way back. I’m trashing our phones just in case.” You said as you walked through the alley, making sure to collect all the knives you had used and tucking them back into their designated sheathes.

“Good plan. The analyst will bring you replacements in the morning. Stay in your room at the inn and don’t leave under any circumstances.”

“You got it boss.” You placed the phone on a slightly raised cobblestone at an angle and brought your boot down on it hard, hearing it crack.

You did the same with the phone in your purse as August walked back over to you, carrying both of your coats.

“Hey Walker, what the fuck was that kiss?”

He winced at you. “I thought it would throw them off.”

“Uh-huh” you mumbled as you shrugged your coat back on. That may have explained why he kissed you, but definitely not the way he kissed you. “You’re bleeding”

“Yeah, one of them grazed me”

“Alright, I’ll stitch you up when we get back to the hotel. Put your coat over it for now”

He groaned when he stretched his arm through the sleeve of his coat, feeling the burning of the wound along his ribs now that his adrenaline was going down.

You hobbled back into your room at the inn after you managed to calm down the tiny innkeeper. You weren’t sure how you convinced her you had both just tripped as you were walking down a hill, but she seemed to buy it. She insisted on sending up a bundle of hot towels with you and a bucket of ice, which you thanked her for.

After locking the door behind you, you pulled out the first aid kit from under your bed and turned to your patient.

“I hope you’re not too attached to that sweater.”

“What?” August was slowly rolling his coat off his shoulders. He had rolled the sweater up around his elbows during the fight, exposing his well-muscled forearms.

“Even if I could get the blood out of it, I’m going to need to cut it off you.” You told him over your shoulder as you scrubbed your hands. “I don’t want to drag it over the wound and cause any more damage.”

“Alright.”

You drew the scissors out of the kit and held the sweater away from his torso as you began cutting up towards his neckline. He winced when the edge of your hand barely skimmed the wound.

“This sweater is ridiculously tight Walker; I’m doing my best.”

“You’re fine just get it over with.” He said through gritted teeth.

“I haven’t even started cleaning it and you’re already complaining. Do you want me to knock you out for a couple of stitches?”

“Do you have a sedative in that kit?”

“The kit is the sedative. One good ram against your skull should have you down for the count.”

He started laughing in spite of himself before groaning at the pain.

“If you don’t hold still, I really will knock you out.” You scolded him, pouring an iodine solution over the wound.

“Fuck, Y/L/N! Ah, that stings.”

“Here, bite down on this.” You folded up a towel and handed it to him. He shoved it in his mouth and clamped down as you ran a flame over the needle you would be using. He let out a grunt around it when you first inserted the needle but managed to settle in as you got to work.

Less than a minute later, you finished your beautiful blanket stitch and were about to start wrapping his torso when he stayed your hand.

“Leave it.”

“Suit yourself.” You said, standing up. You winced suddenly as you had forgotten about your own injury and it was now screaming at you. “Shit.” You hissed. “Help me out of my coat?”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Pretty sure I have at least one broken rib.”

He stood up and helped you shrug out of your heavy coat. “Jesus, how many knives are in here?”

“Six?” you said as you did a mental tally. “No, seven. Two in each sleeve, two in the waist, one in between the shoulders.” You went to the bathroom mirror and untucked your blouse from your skirt, pulling up the edge to get a good look at your bruised torso.

“You really need to carry seven knives with you?”

“No. Those are just the ones sewn into the coat.” You put your shirt back down. “Good news, pretty sure I just have a bruised diaphragm. Hurts like a bitch but not a whole lot you can do about it.”

You turned around to head back to the bedroom when you bumped into August’s bare chest.

“Where do you keep the other knives?”

He was looking at you with what you had originally assumed were adrenaline blown eyes, but now recognized as the dilated pupils of lust. His blood must have still been up from the fight.

With your boots still on you were almost as tall as him, but he was a solid wall of muscle in front of you and while you could move him if you needed to, that wouldn’t be good for either of your injuries.

“What are you doing?” You asked him, looking him dead in the eye as you shifted your stance, ready to fight if you had to, but you thought you would have a better chance if you ran.

He let out a sigh and stepped back on his heels, allowing you to relax a bit.

“I think I misread this situation.”

“How exactly?”

“Listen,” he said, “there’s nothing like a good fuck after a fight and we’ve been partnered for almost six months now. I know we’re normally able to take care of ourselves but since we’re stuck in this room together with just the one bed, it would probably be less awkward if we just…”

“’You know we’re normally able to take care of ourselves?’ Where the fuck did you get that idea?”

“You’re not very quiet.” He said bluntly, which you honestly couldn’t deny so you just started laughing.

“No, that’s definitely true” You said. Standing there, looking at him leaning up against the wall with his naked torso that looked like it had been chiseled by Da Vinci after a particularly exquisite wet dream, you couldn’t even deny that often, the thought of him between your legs was enough to push over the edge in your post-fight sessions.

“Alright then let’s set some ground rules. Hard limits for me are going to be anything related to urine or feces. No real soft limits but if you want to do breath play you better know what you’re doing. My safe word is ‘balsam’. What about you?”

He was looking at you with his face in a state of total shock. “Umm, what?”

“What are your limits Walker? What won’t you do? What are you willing to do but aren’t crazy about?”

“No, no, I know what limits are. Same as yours, I guess my safe word can be ‘spruce’?” he almost made the second sentence a question. “You’re fine with this?”

“Should I not be fine with this? We’re both professionals, this is strictly so we’re able to sleep after…”

You didn’t have time to finish your thought as he lifted you up and wrapped your legs around him. He pulled your head down to his and parted your lips with his tongue. You greeted it with yours as he lay you down on the bed and ripped your skirt the rest of the way off from the slit you made in it earlier, revealing a custom garter belt that held four more knives on each thigh. At the sight of that he laughed.

“Is that all of them?”

You propped yourself up on your elbows and looked at him through your lashes. “Why don’t you get the rest of this off and find out?” You said, holding up one booted calf and rubbing it against his shoulder.

He growled at you as he ripped the boot off and ran his teeth against the arch of your foot, causing a quiver to run up your leg and ripple through your core. He removed the other boot next and pulled you down until you were straddling him, then he tore through the buttons on your blouse and yanked you up to roll it down your shoulders. Then he took a step back to take a good look at you.

“Sevent… seventeen knives, really?” He said, looking you over.

Aside from the eight knives around your thighs, you had two around each of your calves, four tucked into the waist portion of your special garter belt, and one between your breasts.

“Twenty-four total, along with the coat.” You grinned up at him. “This custom set cost me a pretty penny, so no tearing it off me like an animal.” You said, glancing over at your ruined skirt and blouse.

“I think I’ll let you remove all of that, for my own safety.”

You threw your head back and laughed, then stood up and started to unstrap yourself.

You started with your left leg, removing the small sheath belt on your calf, and placing it on your trunk, then removing the four knives from the thigh before unbuckling it. Then you moved onto your right leg, fully unstrapping everything there before undoing your garter belt completely at the waist. Finally, you undid your very special bra and placed that on top of the impressive pile, turning back to Walker in only your panties and stockings.

He was looking at you with a lust blown gaze and his fists clenching and unclenching at his side. You could see the outline of a very impressive hard on through his tight slacks and felt yourself clench around nothing as a rush of arousal soaked your panties.

“Fuck, Y/N. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You rolled your eyes at him as you strode over, pulling him down for a quick kiss before sinking to your knees. “Low bar there bud, we’ll see if we can improve on that before the night’s out.” You said as you started to undo his belt.

“Um, starting already?”

You gave the outline of his cock a soft nip through his slacks and his hips twitch involuntarily as he took in a sharp intake of breath.

“I mean, I can draw this out if you really want, but I’m pretty sure we’re past the foreplay stage at this point.” You say, pulling down his slacks and boxer briefs to free his extremely impressive cock. It almost slaps you in the face as it bounces back up towards his abdomen. You make eye contact with him as you slowly drag your tongue along the base from root to tip.

“Shit, yeah, you’re right.” He lets out in a quick breath, tilting his head back and screwing his eyes shut.

You give him a wicked grin as you continue staring up through your lashes. Your tongue flicks around the tip a few times, lapping up the trickle of pre-cum that is forming before you slowly take the head of his cock in your mouth, humming around it as you do.

“Jesus, fuck.” He cries as his knees buckle and he lands on the bed with a huff. You slide forward on your knees to follow him and dip your hand between your legs to coat it in your own arousal, before gripping his length and sucking on first one velvety sack, then the other.

His breathing is becoming irregular as he stares at you through hooded eyes. You take his cock in your mouth again and he wraps your hair around his fist as you start to slowly move your head up and down, taking him in a little deeper each time. You feel his tip hit the back of your throat and start to breathe through your nose as you swallow around his cock.

“Shit,” he exclaims as he falls back and places a second hand on the back of your head as he starts to fuck his hips up into your mouth. “Y/N, I’m gonna cum.”

His hips stutter as he tries to pull out, but you get your own hands under his hips to hold him in place. He lets out a low groan and you feel his release running hot snakes down your throat. You continue swallowing around his softening dick until your sure he has nothing left to give you, then you release him with a pop and wipe the drool from your chin.

You slowly kiss and lick your way up his torso, dipping your tongue into the ripples between his muscles and making low, humming noises as you do. His ragged breathing has started to even out as you reach his neck, running your teeth along his pulse point and nipping at his jaw before you place your mouth over his and flick your tongue along his bottom lip.

“Good for you, baby?” You ask against his lips, feeling the scratch of his stubble and moustache against your soft skin as you gently pull on his lips with your teeth.

You feel him grin against your mouth as answer before his tongue meets yours.

“Fucking great, your turn now.”

You only have a second to prepare as he wraps his hands around the outside of your thighs and yanks you up the bed with a yelp until your straddling his face. He buries his face against your silk covered mound and gives a sharp inhale before he starts kissing and softly biting at the skin of your inner thighs, his facial hair scratching at the sensitive skin.

“Take these things off.” He says, pulling at your panties with his teeth before letting them snap back into place as you let out a strangled gasp.

You somehow manage to remove them from the awkward position you’re in and as soon as they’re gone, August drags his tongue along your slit at an agonizingly slow pace.

Your brain short circuits and you have to brace both your hands against the headboard so you don’t collapse onto his face. He moves a hand up to palm your breast, working your pebbled nipple in between his fingers as his tongue circles your clit.

“God, honey, you taste amazing.” He murmured against you before shoving his tongue inside your cunt and making you scream. “You gonna cum all over my…”

You cut him off by grinding your pussy into his face. “Stop talking.” You hiss at him. You can feel your orgasm building and want relief as soon as possible.

You feel his smile against you as he starts fucking you with his mouth in earnest, wrapping his arms around your thighs before he starts sucking on your clit.

The sight of those forearms around your legs combined with the soft hums and moans he’s making against your skin send you teetering over the edge. You feel yourself clench around his tongue and let out a cry, your body tightening and releasing as wave after wave of pleasure wrack you.

When you had finally finished, August slowly rolled you over and softly kissed down your leg as he lowered you onto the pillows. You groaned and arched your back when he stopped, hating the loss of sensation. Your heart was still beating like crazy as you propped yourself up on your elbows to gaze at him.

His hair was damp with sweat as it tumbled into his eyes in loose curls. He raked his fingers back through it to push it out of his face, and you saw that his moustache and stubble were soaked with your slick as he licked his lips and stared at you. You let out a low moan and bit your lip as you felt desire pool at your core once more. You pulled his face down to yours and started cleaning the evidence of your orgasm from his facial hair with your lips as you wrapped your legs around his waist. You felt him harden against you as he began rocking his hips, sliding his cock against your swollen clit and you let out a small whine.

“Ready again so soon sweetheart?” He murmured into your ear, nuzzling himself in the small hollow behind the hinge of your jaw. He slips one hand underneath you and presses you into him further, coating his cock in your arousal.

“Fuck.” You hiss. “Jesus, get inside me now.”

“Condom?”

“I’m on the pill.”

He smiles against your neck as his hips still and he lines himself up at your entrance. You let out a strangled cry as he slams into you, bottoming out immediately.

“Fuck, you’re so tight honey.” He growls into your neck as he stops moving completely.

After a few beats of stillness, you speak up.

“August, I kind of need you to move.”

“Yeah, just give me a second.” You feel his face screwed up against your neck as he holds you there. He’s trying not to come like a teenager two pumps into their first warm cunt. He pulls out of you halfway before slowly pushing back in, and your hands scramble on his back, begging him to pick up the pace as you flutter around him. He finally starts fucking into you at a steady rhythm as you take in a sharp breath.

As he starts to pick up the pace, he takes your left leg from around his waist and moves it so your ankle is propped on his shoulder. He places small bites along your ankle as he presses his thumb into the arch of your foot, causing you to clench around him and gasp, screwing your eyes closed as he edges you closer and closer. You feel his grin against your calf as his hand moves to your upper back and he pulls you up to mouth at your breast, rolling your hardened nipple between his tongue and teeth.

“August!” you let out a scream at the new position. The change in angles has him hitting your sweet spot over and over, and now he is slamming into you fast. “I’m gonna cum!”

“That’s right baby, scream for me.” He pulls you up flush against him and you wrap your arms around his neck so he can stabilize himself against the wall. The hand he isn’t using for balance slides in between you, using two fingers to work your clit as he fucks you harder and harder while kissing you deeply. The bed frame sounds like it’s about to fall apart as he fucks you into the headboard.

You cry into his mouth as the tension in your core snaps and you fly apart around him. Your cunt clenches and flutters as you feel yourself turn to jelly, sinking back onto the pillows as he continues to fuck into you at a punishing speed, a hand on each of your hips as he pulls you onto him over and over.

You feel yourself building again quickly as his cock starts to twitch inside you and your velvety walls constrict around him again. You don’t know if you can handle another orgasm at this point.

He looks down at you as his pace becomes irregular and gives you a wicked grin. “C’mon baby, give me one more.”

You let out a low moan as he presses a thumb to your overworked clit and you spasm up off the bed as your pleasure is released. You feel all the muscles in your core tremble from the strain, and your previously forgotten rib injury makes itself known.

August isn’t far behind you and you feel his hips stutter as his release coats your walls and he hisses your name through clenched teeth before collapsing on top of you and burying his face in your neck. You feel him starting to soften as he slides out of you and he rolls to the side breathing heavily. You lay next to each other for a few moments, waiting for your heart rates to slow down and breathing to regulate before you even try to move or talk. It’s been a while since either of you have been so thoroughly fucked, and you didn’t realize how much you needed it until this moment. You finally come down from your post-fuck high, and groan as you sit up and try to head to the bathroom, knees almost giving out once you stand up. Walker starts laughing behind you and you turn to throw a pillow at his head, which he catches in mid-air. Once your sea legs are back, you make your way to the bathroom for a post-fuck piss. You hear a muttered “Shit” from the bedroom, and the rattle of jostled furniture, and start cackling as you start to run the shower.

“God a shower will be great.” Walker says as he stumbles into view, still pretty obviously fuck-drunk.

“It’s a whore’s bath for you. I can’t believe your stitches stayed in place during all of that, there’s no way I’m letting you ruin them now.”

“You’re so fucking bossy, I oughta…”

He doesn’t get a chance to finish that thought as there is a sudden pounding on the door. You both snap into alert stances as you toss a robe at him and wrap one around yourself quickly. He grabs his gun and takes up a stance behind the door, then gives you a nod once he’s ready, jaw clenched in preparation. You swing the door open to find Mdm. Eberle, the 80-year-old innkeeper, standing there with her even more ancient husband, holding what you can only assume was a previously decorative rifle from the 1700s that they had hauled down from above the fireplace.

“Madame Trellier,” she whimpers at you. “The room below you heard screaming and horrible noises and we… oh.” She trails off once she gets a good look at you.

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror before you answered the door, and there was really no other way to describe your appearance than well fucked. Your hair was bunched up and mussed, your mascara was running, and there were love bites running down your neck and on to your chest. Not that the state of the room was any better. Your discarded clothes were still in plain view, and you now noticed a small crack running up the wall behind the headboard that definitely wasn’t there before.

Mssr. Eberle’s look abruptly change from a scowl to childish glee as he gave you a toothless grin while Mdm. Eberle covered her mouth with one hand as a flush crept up to her face.

You started to apologize profusely when Walker chose this moment to stride out from behind the door with a cocky grin on his face, wrap his hand around your waist, and give you a kiss on the neck before heading into the bathroom.

Poor Mdm. Eberle started spluttering while her husband started cackling, assuring you that there was no need to apologize as she started scurrying away. Mssr. Eberle gave you a lecherous wink before following her, and you closed the door behind them with a sigh.

“Stay out of that shower!” You scolded Walker as you headed into the bathroom, ready to get back to the States already so you could debrief and maybe actually be home for the holidays. You didn’t even notice the cellphone you had collected from your attackers was now on the bedside table, laying on top of an electromagnet.

END

More A/N: Y’all, I had way too much fun with this one. I actually enjoyed writing the non-smut portion as much as the sweet, smutty goodness. I also think I maybe have a bad boy kink? Who knows, we’ll explore further.

Happy Hoelidays!

#happyhoelidays2020 #smut #reader insert #christmas gifts #fanfic #fanfiction

154 notes · View notes

cassandraclare · 4 years

Text

Not too spoilery, but very long!

fieidofpoppies said: I was hoping to get some clarification about the LGBT situation in TLH’s background.

What exactly is the Clave's position on homosexuality? Alec struggles with people's opinion in 2008, so I guess in 1900ish things are definitely not rosey, but to what extent? We know that being gay is considered a crime in mundane London at the time and I'm guessing that is not the case for the Shadowhunter world, so how seriously is it a problem? What does it/ would it mean for our characters to be out?

Okay, so I’ve gotten a few of this question, leading me to believe it is A Conversation that needs some addressing. It’s a complicated issue so I’m going to try to break it down in parts.

There is no “The Clave’s position on homosexuality” that is unchanging: it has changed, advanced and regressed through history just like you, know, regular human history. :) If you’re asking about the Clave’s position on LGBT Shadowhunters in 1903, we will get to that.

Just because Alec is struggling in 2007 doesn’t mean things were worse for Anna in 1903. The idea that culture moves inevitably forward towards tolerance and progressivism is an oversimplification. We see it assumed all around, so it’s easy to believe it, but actually it’s more of a two steps forward, one step back scenario. There are always periods of cultural progress, marked by periods of cultural regress. If someone had told me when I was a teenager that a woman’s right to choose would be more trammeled and in danger in 2020 America then in 1989 I wouldn’t have believed it; it is, however, the truth. We are in a more regressive period culturally now than we were ten years ago; LGBT rights are more under threat. This isn’t the first time in history this has happened and it won’t be the last: “During the golden years of the Weimar Republic [Germany's government from 1919 to 1933] Berlin was considered an LGBT+ haven, where gays and lesbians achieved an almost dizzying degree of visibility in popular culture” — but by 1934 LGBT+ Germans were being persecuted and eventually would be sent to death camps with Jews, communists, and other “undesirables.”

Alec is living in a time in which a regressive, conservative group that his own parents belonged to nearly toppled the more progressive aspects of the Clave. He already comes from a family in exile, during a time in which progressive and regressive aspects of the Clave are battling each other and the situation with Downworlders is explosive. Four years after Alec comes out, the fascist Cohort rises to power and splits the Clave in half. Nothing like that is happening in 1903: there is a progressive Consul in power, demon attacks are low, there is generally peace with Downworld.

It is reasonable that Alec would have concerns about how the Clave at large might treat him, and also have concerns about family and friends, given his parents’ past. And while Anna and Matthew etc. might have similar concerns about coming out to the whole Clave, which they haven’t, they are not concerned about their particular group of friends, and have mixed concerns about family. (Also, we have plenty of characters who have been just as worried about coming out as Alec was: Charles, Alastair, Ariadne. We don’t yet know Thomas’ attitude. Everyone who doesn’t consider themselves a “Bohemian” isn’t taking this very lightly, and even Matthew isn’t “out” to anyone except his friends. It’s not like the Wentworths know he’s bisexual.)

None of this is to say it was “easy” to be LGBT+ during the early 1900’s. It isn’t easy now. It’s to say that “Well, it sucked across the board then and now it’s great across the board!” isn’t true, and ignores the significance of context in the lives of characters — and people. There’s a great moment in the movie Colette (set in the 1890′s and early 1900′s) that focuses on Mathilde de Morny, Colette’s lover. Mathilde was assigned female at birth (academic scholars are widely divided on whether Mathile was transgender so I’m going to be gender-neutral here.) Mathilde dresses in men’s clothes, and openly romances women, but in this particular moment, Mathilde speaks about the fact that if Mathilde were not rich and titled, it might be a problem. But given Mathilde’s social status and power, and the Bohemian set of people Mathilde spends time with, it’s not. Colette herself also dresses in men’s clothes and is open about her same-sex romances, even kissing Mathilde onstage at the Moulin Rouge.

(Colette and Mathilde, 1907.)

The artist Romaine Brooks wore men’s clothes, even painting herself in them: according to the Smithsonian “By 1905, she had made a name for herself in Paris as a painter of women, some of whom were her lovers. Her most visible and lasting relationship was with the American poet Natalie Barney, who also lived in Paris.” (There’s a reason the characters are often talking about Paris or visiting Paris: being LGBT+ wasn’t illegal in France, and Paris was a gay and lesbian mecca, complete with LGBT+ cafes, high society, celebrities, and so on.)

People like Anna existed in the mundane world in 1903. It’s important to realize; this isn’t something I wrote because I’d have liked it to be true and historically accurate, it is true and historically accurate. It’s also true that even though male homosexuality was illegal in England in 1903, there were plenty of gay men who were out to their friends and community. Lytton Strachey (part of the Bloomsbury Group which included Virginia Woolf) “spoke openly about his homosexuality with his Bloomsbury friends, and had relationships with a variety of men.” Which isn’t to say he spoke openly about it to everyone — just that there have always been spaces within “mainstream” society where it was safe to be queer: Anna and Matthew, by going to the Hell Ruelle, by standing somewhat apart from their contemporaries save those they already trust, are inhabiting those spaces.

Now, if the question becomes: what happens if everyone in the Clave finds out the sexualities of the LGB+ characters in TLH? Well, first, they won’t be arrested; it’s not illegal. But that hardly covers the whole issue. We look at what happened to Oscar Wilde and think, horrors, as well we should — had he not sued the Marquess of Queensberry, though, he probably would have lived out his life with society turning a blind eye to his affairs with men. What happened to him is fucking terrible. Yet even today, there are celebrities who remain in the closet — though their queerness may well be an open secret to their friends, family and colleagues — not because they’re worried about being arrested, but because of the fear of what the damage to their career might be were it publicly known. And how is that so different from the situation Charles finds himself in? He’s pretty clear that if people knew he were gay, he couldn’t be Consul. He wouldn’t get the votes. In the same way, it’s likely that the other LGB+ characters would face societal disapproval and issues with their families. That’s not really about the “Clave’s official position” though, any more than a politician today not wanting to come out is worried about being arrested rather than losing their career. The official position is important, but it’s not the only indicator or generator of societal, systemic bigotry. (” It turns out that one of the worst times to be a homosexual - that is, in terms of being at risk from the law - was in the run-up to and aftermath of the liberalisation of the 1960s [when homosexuality was decriminalized].” )

So if you made it this far: what I’m basically saying is three things: one, that any comparison to Alec has to take into account Alec’s specific family situation, the Uprising, and who the Clave and Inquisitor are in 2007. And that I can’t say what it means for the characters of TLH to be out because it’s going to mean different things, and have different repercussions, for all of them. I can say “They won’t be in trouble with the Law”, which is true, but in terms of their family situations, their personal goals and dreams, and where they are socially, it would be different for each one of them.

And third, that we can’t assume that progress is one inevitable forward march. That things will always be more tolerant, less oppressive, in “the future” simply because it’s the future. While we can believe that “the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice” it’s important to remember that rights can be abridged, freedoms taken away, times of tolerance and harmony can end, bigotry and nationalism can rise. To assume progress is inevitable is, I worry, to forget to fight for it. And we can never forget to fight.

[Recommended reading: Strangers: Homosexual Love in the Nineteenth Century, by Graham Robb.]

#the last hours #chain of gold #spoilers #tlh

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seyaryminamoto · 3 years

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Hey Seyary!! I'm not sure if you answered a question similar to this, if you did I'm sorry. If you haven't then I'll wait enthusiatically until you answer it. How is Sokka's journey through part 3 going to be? I know he is going to travel a lot, but what will his travelling amount to? It is a too spoilery question yep, so feel free to not answer it =') Buuuttt, I assume he will have his own plans and Azula her own on "how to save the world", but his main priority is going to be set-Azula-free, keep her safe and be with her again right?? This might tie a bit with how-will-the-war-end, so again feel free to not answer it privately or not at all x'D

@_@ that's... quite something to answer in one ask x'D but I'll try to do it without giving away too much...?

... Can I answer this without giving away too much? xD

Azula will make certain requests from Sokka by the end of Part 2, promises that he will find devastating to accept. Her personal choices are heartbreaking for him, and while he will try to fulfill what she asks of him, by the time the first big battle of Part 3 happens, Sokka realizes he can't live the way she asked of him any longer. He knows she be mortified by what he decides to do, but his fear for her life, her safety and wellbeing, as well as his knowledge of what's right and wrong, overcome his every other impulse. And THAT is when he decides to take off on his journey, something he does while knowing she won't be all that happy once she learns about what he's doing.

It will be a veeeery long journey, yes. His starting point is the Southern Water Tribe, then he goes to the Earth Kingdom, it will take him to the Northern Water Tribe eventually, until he finally makes his way to the Fire Nation once again. He's going to find a lot of surprises along the way, with bright sides such as reconnecting with friends he never thought he'd see again, also meeting new people, such as a certain person we already saw a glimpse of in the Race arc... :'D and he's going to have to make some difficult choices he won't be 100% happy about, much as Azula will have to make terrible ones of her own. Sadly, they both fear their worst choices might amount to unforgivable heartbreak for the other... but they underestimate each other's unconditional love, I'd say (?) Sokka's particular brand of "unforgivable choices" comes in the form of building an alliance with certain people he knows Azula won't be happy about (bet anyone can guess who... :'D). He's not exactly thrilled about doing it either, but he knows there won't be any other way to succeed at his quest, and the only way he'll truly set Azula free is if he succeeds at it, whatever the cost.

Sokka's going to be in a dark place, like I've said in the past. His time with his family will start in a complicated way, though he'll ease up gradually and adapt after some time. The Water Tribe is renowned for their community spirit and loyalty to each other, so as much as he fears they won't accept him now, his fears are pretty much unfounded. After leaving that stability, though, the darker side of Sokka will most likely shine through, a lot, and we'll see him pushing through every hardship he faces in order to put an end to the war (as you said) and ensure Azula's freedom and safety. His journey, all of it, is based on achieving those two merging goals. We've already seen this man can pull off the unthinkable if he gives himself a chance... we're definitely going to see a lot of Sokka's trademark unthinkable and extraordinary strength of body, heart and mind as he fights his hardest to regain what he's lost, avenge what cannot be regained anymore, and give the world a chance to find balance once again.

I suppose I can say he won't travel to every location we've seen in the story so far xD but, in summary, he will definitely travel all across the world, to two big cities in the Earth Kingdom first, there will be a few stops at Air Temples, he'll go to the Northern Water Tribe for the first time, and, at last, to the Fire Nation. His emotional journey throughout the whole thing is going to be full of ups and downs, but while he's brimming with conviction and completely certain that he's making the right choices for the world, all-around, the main guiding force that pushes him to take action is indeed Azula.

In the meantime, Azula's personal journey will be intense in a whole other way... and not quite in the way she expected it to be at the end of Part 2. As much as she asks what she does from Sokka, as much as she hopes he will stay safe, above all else, she won't be remotely as prepared as she thinks she will be for the kind of misery and grief she'll face while she's away from Sokka in Part 3. She'll second-guess the choices she's made, but mostly once it's too late to fix them, sadly. She does want to change the world in her own way still... but if I'm perfectly honest, her hopes to pull it off will be practically non-existent in Part 3. She won't travel anywhere near as much as Sokka will, but she will have one outing to a certain Fire Nation colony in the late stages of Part 3. Most the rest of her journey will be internal, intense, like I said, and very anguishing for me so far (despite there are a few bright sides here and there, and they definitely make things so much better so far ;_;). So Sokka will take action a lot more often than Azula does, as she'll be struggling with a lot of things that definitely spiraled completely out of her control. Frankly, saying Sokka will be fighting to save Azula and/or set her free seriously feels like the best way to describe what we'll be seeing in Part 3 xD

Hope that's what you wanted to know xD and I also hope I didn't ramble too much without saying enough, just as I hope I didn't give away everything either (?)

#kigozula #gladiator #Part 3 is just...#we have a very complicated relationship (?)#I am completely overtaken by it #I may even be doing my best writing ever and I don't even know it #it makes me cry and it makes me happy #(I am not kidding I have never cried while writing as many times as I have between the end of Part 2 and the first arcs of Part 3)#(I mean I literally could count how many times I'd cried while writing (one :'D) until this mess started #and now I seriously have no idea it happens so often I can't even pretend it surprises me anymore (?))#I guess we'll see if y'all love or hate or love/hate it the way I do #but it is definitely taking over my life and I'm 100% allowing it to do so (?)

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cherry-valentine · 3 years

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So I recently read Killing Stalking over the course of two days. The first day was spent fleeing my home from flood waters and so I read the first half of the manwha on my phone in the parking lot of a grocery store. I was so absorbed in the story that I didn’t have time to worry about whether or not my house was washing away (it didn’t, and there was no damage, thanks for asking). I know I was pretty late to the party on this one, and it wasn’t because I wanted to avoid the series. To be honest it sounded like something I would love from the moment I heard about it, but at the time, I was busy and ended up forgetting it. I saw some pictures from it on Tumblr a few days back, was reminded, and decided to give it a shot. I have some feelings and random opinions on it that I felt like sharing. Most of these will include spoilers for the entire story, so be warned. Also: TW: ABUSE

But first, my non-spoilery plea to others who haven’t read it (and I guess the first thing I wanted to talk about): If you’re avoiding the series because you’ve heard that it glorifies or romanticizes abusive relationships, you can put that concern to rest. I honestly don’t know how anyone can walk away from the series with that take. The relationship portrayed in the series is nightmarish, and even the parts that aren’t so nightmarish are tense and very much realistic in the way abusive relationships actually work. Abusers aren’t abusive 100% of the time, and that’s what makes them so insidious. If they were terrible all the time, it would be much easier to hate them, leave them, and forget them. Instead, they are often kind, generous, and loving between incidents of abuse. This is to keep their victims emotionally attached to them. For many of these abusers, they may even feel actual love for their victims (a twisted, selfish love for sure, but I’ve always been of the belief that love can be a bad thing in certain situations). So even though there are moments in the series where the relationship seems to be going “well”, there’s always a sense of dread hanging over it, the feeling that at any moment, things are going to explode.

From here on out, there are !!MAJOR SPOILERS!! for the entire series.

A lot of people have identified the most sad or tragic or painful moments for them while reading, and those moments vary quite a bit between people. For me, the moment that gouged out my heart, the moment that was such a punch to the gut that I almost felt physical pain, was just a tiny thing. Toward the end, the first time Bum tries to go to the hospital Sangwoo is at, and the cab driver treats him like shit, Bum thinks “Why does everyone treat me like this?” And then we see flashbacks of moments when Sangwoo was kind to him. And... that right there. That got me. The fact that his abuser, the person who had treated him so cruelly, was also the only person who had treated him with actual kindness, broke my heart. The fact that he’d lived his whole life and experienced nothing but cruelty or indifference or betrayal. The only person who ever made him feel special, feel loved, was also the person who had tormented him. And it hurt so much to read, because I know that’s how many real life abuse victims feel. It was, in my opinion, the most tragic aspect of the series.

My last opinion might be a little controversial. Something I noticed when checking out the fandom for the series was how anyone who even hinted that they’d like for Sangwoo and Bum to be happy together was met with absolute hate and fury (slinging around lots of terrible insults like “failed abortion” and things I won’t repeat here - like yeah great idea explaining how abusive relationships are bad by being verbally abusive). Now, as a logical adult, I know it would be totally impossible for them to have a happy relationship (and indeed they didn’t). I didn’t even want them to be together. I just wanted them both to get a lot of therapy. The “headcanon” I came up with to make myself feel less depressed after the ending was that they both died and were then reborn into loving, nurturing environments where they grew up to be happy, well-adjusted people who would meet in college and have a healthy relationship. But I do understand the people who saw the less horrible moments and thought, “I wish they could just be happy together”. Because it did feel like these two thoroughly broken people had found a tiny, miniscule amount of happiness and love, even if it was clear it definitely would not last and definitely was not healthy. I get feeling that way.

And actually, the series plays a fairly clever trick on the reader. Just like real life abuse victims have trouble hating and leaving their abusers when those abusers are kind or show a more human side to them, Sangwoo became much harder to hate and dismiss once his traumatic childhood was revealed and he showed some kindness to Bum. It’s like the series was showing us exactly how abuse victims remain attached to their abusers, by making us stay attached to Sangwoo as a character. For the first half of the series I despised him, but the series tricked me into sympathizing with him and even feeling sorry for him and wishing he could be happy. And that. right. there. That’s how abusers get you. I thought it was a very smart way to portray this concept.

I also get that some BL fans DID romanticize and even fetishize the relationship. But, and hear me out please, I don’t think that’s a reason to totally dunk on those fans. Most of the fans who felt that way are probably fairly young, probably naive, probably exploring some dark fantasies for (perhaps) the first time in their lives. I think most people have something that introduced them to darker fantasies (rape fantasies, violent kinks, etc.). When you’re young, these are pretty thrilling to think about, and as long as you limit this exploration to works of fiction, it’s a safe way to dig into these fantasies. For most people, they grow out of them. The thrill wears off as they get older or they become mature enough to realize how horrible and scary those situations would be in real life. Some people keep those kinds of kinks all their lives, and as long as they limit it to fantasy and fiction, or consensual situations, that’s fine. But we need to understand that Killing Stalking, just by nature of having a very attractive character like Sangwoo, is going to be that piece of media that introduces a lot of younger people to those darker fantasies. And it’s not necessarily a terrible thing to let them safely explore those fantasies with this story. Because the story doesn’t encourage it. It doesn’t paint a rosey picture of this kind of relationship. It’s horrifying and ends in tragedy and trauma for everyone involved.

My “thing” that introduced me to darker fantasies was a movie called Boxing Helena, which I watched when I was most definitely too young. For those who haven’t seen it, it actually shares some themes with Killing Stalking (involving a sexy but psychotic man who had lots of issues relating to his mother and keeps a woman captive in his home, partly because she reminds him of his mother, and does horrible things to her - there’s even a scene where he brings another woman home and has sex with her while the captive woman is forced to watch through a cracked door. Sounds familiar, right?). It felt dark and dangerous and taboo, because it was also horrific. But it was exciting. Of course, I grew out of things like that, but it would have been absolutely no help to have a ton of people screaming at me that I was a sick pervert for finding the psycho guy hot (I mean it was Julian Sands in the 90’s, can you really blame me?).

If you come across younger fans who think Killing Stalking was sexy and say dumb things like, “I’d like to be in Sangwoo’s basement!” (actual comment I saw), don’t immediately harp on them and make them feel bad. They’re just exploring their own fantasies. It would be much more helpful to calmly and patiently talk to them and point out that it’s okay to like this stuff in fiction, but to be very careful about how they explore these feelings in reality. I’d be willing to bet that the vast majority of these people are just virginal teenagers who would never in a million years get involved in a dangerous relationship. So let’s cut them a little slack.

Note: When I refer to younger fans, I’m thinking 18-20 or so, and of course the younger teens who are going to read this whether we want them to or not. I am in no way suggesting that we should encourage younger people to read it. Just that, if you come across a younger person who has already read it, yelling insults at them over their naive opinions on it isn’t going to be helpful to anyone.

Anyway, that’s all I have to say about it for now. I just felt very strongly about it and felt like sharing.

#Killing Stalking #text #tw: abuse

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cambionverse · 3 years

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envesseled (1 of 3): poker

HELLO >:)

so. as you may have noticed, the last time we posted anything about envesseled (the claire-centric, claire-pov fic intended to follow jesse's fic cambion and ben's fic only human) was in 2013. did we forget about it? did we cancel it? is the verse abandoned? no, no, and no. we had a lot of stuff to rewrite to get the verse in the right place for envesseled, and then we got busy, and THEN there was a pandemic. but it was never very far from our minds, and now it is FINALLY time for this to be the next thing we post.

most of the fans of this verse have been with us for a very long time. for being so patient, and so supportive, we decided to post not one, not two, but THREE scenes from the in-progress envesseled, for everyone to enjoy, but especially for the people who were readers when we posted the last one (again, in 2013, eight entire years ago). we aren't committing to a posting date yet, but we are ALL much closer to the end of this wait than the beginning.

this particular scene is only mildly spoilery and doesn't have any major content warnings to watch out for, aside from a mention of the ticking clock on claire's grace. it also introduces the minor character patrick, from spn episode 5.07, who has been on our cast page for some time; finally you can get some idea of what (small yet important) role he might play in this story. there are two more previews after this before the night is over - we hope you enjoy them.

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Lucky for Claire, there's already a poker game in progress when she pushes the door of the pub open in a swirl of cold air. The man who wins the next hand looks younger than the others by far, though there's something about him that Claire can't quite place. He catches her eye across the bar and smiles around a toothpick as his compatriots grumble and wander away with their meager winnings.

"Room for one more?" says Claire, laying the sweetness on thick and her money on the table.

He waves a hand at the now-empty chairs. "I'm Patrick."

Surely he's faking that Irish accent; it's even more ridiculous than Jesse's Australia-Nebraska hybrid. And with the name Patrick, no less. "Amelia," Claire says, and pretends the accompanying flare of pain is only because she told a lie.

"Amelia," says Patrick, with an odd emphasis on the last two syllables. "You remind me of someone I once knew." He hands her a stack of poker chips and begins dealing out cards.

Claire leans forward so her braid falls over her shoulder and says, "How did you end up here, Patrick?"

He doesn't take the opportunity to look down her shirt, which is all the more irritating because she had half-hoped he wouldn't. "Luck," he says, snapping the k. He glances at his cards. "It's often on my side."

Lie. Claire doesn't often get such strong feedback from general statements like that, but this one burns. She ups her bet by more than she otherwise would have, careful to keep her voice neutral. "That must come in handy."

"Well, that is what we Irish are known for." He flips another chip onto the pile. "Ignoring the whole bit about the famines, of course. Pots of gold don't make very good eating."

Claire cracks a smile completely involuntarily, and brings a hand up much too late to hide it. Patrick quirks one eyebrow. His eyes stay on Claire's face for a long time, though, as his expression slides into something sadder.

She wouldn't, usually, but Claire asks, "Who was it?"

Patrick blinks, and the smirk is back in place like it never left. "Who was who, darling?"

"You said I reminded you of someone."

"She was a dancer." Patrick takes a chip from his considerable pile and spins it between two fingers. "Held herself like you do, especially when she was angry. Like if she didn't hold herself tight she'd float right up in the air."

Claire's muscles go even tenser when he says that, because he's not supposed to notice. "Raise," she says, dropping the chips in the pile.

Patrick exhales. "She wasn't much of a poker player." He puts his cards down, and slides them back into the deck before she can see them. "I fold."

Claire scoops the pile of chips toward her, stacking them carefully by value. Patrick's first bet this round was high, the highest he's played all game; why did he drop the bluff so fast? With this, plus the little extra hidden in her backpack, and if she's willing to eat vending machine food for breakfast—

The door opens, and a low hum starts up in the back of Claire's head. She knows who it is before Ben ever reaches the table.

"Claire!"

Patrick's eyes narrow the slightest margin. "Claire, is it?"

Fuck, and now she's been made, and he probably won't pay out and she'll have to sleep in a fucking snowbank because Ben Braeden can't keep his mouth shut. She opens her mouth the bare minimum required to say, "Leave."

She hears him settle harder on his feet but continues to stare at her cards. Patrick folded. She doesn't even have one pair.

"I know you don't forgive me yet," Ben says, and Claire breathes out hard. "But there's something Jesse and I need to—"

"I said leave, Ben," and she's turning to glare at him even though she wanted to play this cool. His cheeks are glowing red from being out in the cold, and a little behind him, far enough back to have a clear path to the door, Jesse's watching her too. When he sees Claire looking, his eyes drop to the floor.

"No, you don't get it," Ben begins, but Patrick interrupts.

"Is there a problem here?"

Ben seems to realize there are other people around, and he slides on his most affable grin. Claire can see how it's going to go, Ben charming everyone in a ten-foot radius, what a nice guy he is. Well, not if she gets there first.

"Yeah, there is," she says, savoring the lack of pain because it's true. "This asshole has been bothering me all night. I came here to get away from him."

"Oh, come on," says Ben, already rolling his eyes, but Claire said it loud enough that quite a few people heard her and some of them are starting to mutter. He notices, and ducks closer to her. "Look, Claire, can we just go?"

Patrick stands up. "I believe the lady asked you to leave."

Ben gives him a once-over. "Who are you?"

"Oh, I don't think you want to know the answer to that," says Patrick. His smile is not kind. "I suggest you be on your way."

Claire's not surprised to see Ben's jaw set at that. "Dude, this is so not your business," he says. "I know her, okay? We've been friends for years. I just want to talk to her."

Patrick bites a toothpick idly. "Think she can decide for herself who she wants to talk to."

Ben looks like he might be feeling stupid enough to throw a punch, but then Jesse is there at his side, one hand finding its way to the back of Ben's neck. Ben calms down instantly with Jesse touching him and Claire has been so, so painfully oblivious to never see this for what it was.

When Patrick notices Jesse his arms drop, and suddenly the air feels weird. "And who's your friend?"

"I'm nobody," says Jesse, though Claire would bet her pile of hypothetical money that his other hand is on the knife at his belt. "Just don't want to see this get out of hand."

Patrick looks at all three of them like links in a chain. "And did you not hear the lady's request, nobody?"

"Maybe you should stop talking for her, how 'bout," Ben retorts.

Claire appreciates the help, she supposes, but really what she wants is to be done with the displays of aggression and for everyone to leave her alone. "Go away, Ben," she says, and it comes out tired even to her own ears. He slumps a little deeper into Jesse's grip, and that's exactly the problem.

"Claire—"

"We're going," says Jesse, finally looking away from Patrick to catch Claire's eye again. He lowers his voice. "We'll be waiting outside."

"You'll be waiting a long time," Claire says, one parting shot for them to remember her by. "I do hope you two can find some way to occupy yourselves."

They both flinch, and Claire turns back to the table with bitter satisfaction in the back of her throat.

Patrick settles back into his seat, eyes still on the door. "You do have interesting friends."

"They're not my friends," says Claire. The lie burns like whiskey.

Patrick raises an eyebrow at her. "No? Then what are they?"

"We were playing," Claire says pointedly. When he doesn't move, she grabs the deck and starts to shuffle herself.

"I am playing," Patrick retorts. If he starts to go on about how you don't play the cards, you play the person, she might have to hit him herself. Instead he leans back and chews on his toothpick. "Let me see if I got it straight. You and Ben, you've been friends for a long time."

Claire places her bet, refusing to acknowledge that he's still talking. There's nothing impressive about repeating back what Ben let slip.

"And you're not one to make friends easily, are you, Amelia." She does look up at that, and Patrick, smirking, corrects himself. "Claire."

She deals the next card.

"So maybe you thought Ben was something special. But you didn't trust yourself with him. So you told him to wait."

"Raise," Claire says, and she doesn't even have that good a hand but she wants to clean him out. He won't stop fucking smiling.

"Some people would wait, you know," says Patrick. "Some people would wait a very long time."

Some while back Ben had told her, There is nobody else. Well. I'm nobody, Jesse said. Claire turns out her hand. "Triple sixes."

Patrick sighs. "You're letting me get to you, love. Can't play a good game if your mind's out that door." He tosses his cards onto the table in front of her. "Full house, and I'm guessing you could've used this cash. Quit while you've got any left." He drags the chips out of her reach.

Claire picks up his cards and the rest of the deck. "We're not done playing."

"All that ice isn't going to keep you safe forever." Patrick leans back. "Deal."

And because Claire is tired, and lost, and vindictive, she lets the cards slide through her hands with that special twist Ben taught her.

Patrick nudges a considerable pile of chips into the middle of the table. "Some free advice for you, love," he says, eyes dark. "Your life's too short to pretend you want nothing and no one to come near your heart."

Her grace flares up even before she can shape the words I don't. He doesn't know how right he is—Claire's life is looking very short indeed, these days, and nothing Ben or Jesse can do will put a stop to the invasive light eroding her body from the inside out. Her heart's probably toxic by now anyway.

Claire takes a deep breath and shows her cards, spades all in a row just like she planned. "Straight flush."

Patrick tosses his hand onto the table. "Four aces."

"What?" But there they are, even though Claire could've sworn she cut the ace of diamonds into the middle of the deck and buried the ace of hearts even further down. She locks her teeth as soon as the word escapes, but it's too late; his cold smile tells her he knows what she did.

"I don't like cheaters," says Patrick. He places a polished wooden box on the table and begins gathering the chips back into it, along with any chance she had of getting a hotel room tonight. "And you, of all people, ought to value honesty. Better luck next time, Amelia."

Claire clenches her jaw. She stands to leave—then Patrick catches her hand.

"I'm not doing this for you," he murmurs, and she feels the papery crinkle of fresh bills on her palm. She grips the money instinctively even as she draws back, other hand curling into a fist. No one at all is watching them. But Patrick just looks at her, an unsettling depth to his gaze. "You should tell him how you feel," he says, and releases her.

Claire pockets the money and bolts before he can change his mind.

#cambionverse #envesseled #claire novak #10th cambiversary #rough drafts #writing #ours #lmao this scene is classic spn winchester hustle #but with claire it's like. gatekeep girlboss get the fuck out of my face #also the fact that she uses her mother's name as an alias: hurts me #claire novak my beloved

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