#glut

[sabrerine911]

"Unstoppable Mushroom-Hungry Berserker Lady!" WIP(BG3) Featuring Astarion, Karlach, Beth(my non-Tav), Wyll and soon to be eaten Glut.

Still very sick, but Im trying to slowly get back into drawing, commission work has been painfully slow since my sickness Artblock so Im hoping to actually get back into the swing of things before things get bad

ANYWAY, felt like sketching something with the Beth Ravencoft Squad from BG3. been wanting to make more jokes regarding her berserker-ness(more lore than ingame since she fits Wildheart a bit better based on her animal/wolf nature). Felt like making a more comedic scene. Astarion out here being the only one making sense since Wyll and him on that 8 STR by default XD Also, figured Id give rope some use, since BG3 doesnt care about it's existence XD

I do wonder if you would get high if you bite at Glut, being poisoned makes more sense, but its by far the most boring answer XD

[niccymarten]

April Stickers! ✨

[sigyn-foxyposts]

What your myth! Loki ship says about you:

⚠ Just a heads up! I am doing this for fun and to see if I understand our community right! I'm by no means trying to hate on anyone who actually ship these things! Ships have just..always been so interesting to me, and I thought it would be fun. Did I forget someone? Please let me know! ^^

Loki + Sigyn = You can't get over how tragic yet passionate their love is. After all it's the only thing we have of them together and somehow it makes the message of loyalty and compassion between lovers even stronger.

Loki + Angrboda = Either you're here for the tragedy that was their love, what could've been if only Odin didn't take away their children.. or you love the tall witch wife and small gremlin husband dynamic (me too :3)

Angrboda + Loki + Sigyn = You're tired of seeing the wives being pinned up against each other, heck it isn't even cannon to the mythology. You just want to see them all happy together while kissing. They deserve their polycule!

Loki + Gullveig = You don't actually ship them but if they had a relationship, it would be something along the lines of: one night stand parents trying to do what's best for their baby. Or you think Gullveig is actually Angrboda! 👍✨

Loki + Glut = You thought Loki and Logi were the same person. Now you either regret it and feel bad for believing in it or stick by it wholeheartedly. 🔥

Loki + Hoenir = Want to kiss your homies good night? Friends to lovers is your thing or you're there for the possible angst of letting a young lover go because it was never meant to be. 😔

Loki + Odin = You thought they could go deeper than being just blood brothers, didn't you? Ohh..the angst and pain you put yourself through for them.

Loki + Heimdall = You're torn between the fact they don't actually have to hate each other vs the way they clearly have a love/hate relationship + obvious tension. If they ever fought in front of you, you'd probably shout inappropriate things at them. 🤨

Loki + Svadilfari = You try everything In your power to forget what really happened between these two and tried to fix the story for the better..💀

Loki + Thor = Let me guess, the reason you like this is because of Marvel? If not you have a thing for the bratty twinks and their giant straight boyfriends that haven't realized he is bisexual yet.

Loki + Baldr = You either stand by the headcannona that Loki killed Baldr because he loves him (one-sided or not) and tried to protect him from Ragnarok. Or you have the "I hate straight people so I'll force these two to date even though they don't go well together." mentality. No, there isn't anything in between for you. 😭

Loki + Hodr = For some reason you just had to see the potential angst between these two! You love the dramatic storytelling of being betrayed by your lover, making you do their dirty work! You poor being, what happened? 💔

Loki + Sif = Possible exses? Secret affair? You live for the drama and desperately want to know what happened between these two.

Loki + (potential) farmer man = You wish we had more good representation of Loki being with a another man. (I agree!) So when Odin accused Loki of being a milkmaid and having children, it opend a whole new world to inspire you!

Loki + Skadi = The lokasenna was enough for you to decide they totally dated in the past. Also you love spiteful exses that will threaten to kill your children if they don't shut up…😨(spoiler: Loki didn't shut up)

Loki + Zisa = I don't know why you'd ship them If their "affair child" was supposed to be a secret but I guess you're into the drama. Anyways Zisa isn't real..she can't hurt me. 😌

[softness-and-shattering]

Im not the first person to complain about fatphobia in baldurs gate 3. Its just a lot worse than not being able to make fat player characters, tav or durge. Its that there are almost no fat people at all in this whole world.

Ive played close to 300 hours, and I havent fully explored act 3. There's some characters who are quite large. Halsin is tall and broad but he has a trim six pack. So does Karlach, despite being buff she has quite a narrow waist. Weird to be a barbarian without serious core strength. Korilla and Hope are very curvy, but no belly.

I can only think of two actually fat characters are neither are great. One is Glut, the myconid sovereign who asks you to betray Spaw, when you have no other reason to dislike Spaw. Firstly, the name. Glut - Glutton - he's fat. You dont have to also name him fatso. He feel entitled to a colony of myconids and is happy to kill Spaw about it, its just an ownership rulership ambition there's no justice to it. And if you refuse you have to kill him. So firstly he's non-human, non-humanoid, the hobgoblin specifically states than myconids have way less going on mentally than the player character and its kind of unclear to me if they're a hivemind or not. In that fantasy grey area of if they're properly people rather than unusually conscious vegetables. And he's also basically an asshole.

The other fat character is Thisobald Thorm. To begin with he's undead, and the son of a major undead villain. Not a great start. Second, he has four legs. Yes there are lots of unusual human variations and I suppose a person could have four legs and that would be fine. But why make that Thisobalds 'quirk'. Its clearly that he's soooo fat that he cant possibly move around on two legs so lets give him another set and make him monstrous. He needs to move around because he can be a mini-boss battle and it would be soooo hard to animate two big legs, or even two comically small legs. Nah we gotta give him four, evoke monstrosity. And then, the ways that encounter can go, is you either totally ignore him, or you interact. If you interact, you have to kill him, and if you talk your way through it he literally explodes from being too fat. Theres lines about his stomach seems like its going to burst open from all its holding and then it does. And then theres no body left behind, just the pile of gore thats also left behind when you raise zombies. He cant even be a humanoid corpse, he explodes so violently from sheer fatness that nothing recognisable is left behind.

And yes I know the excuse is that hes drinking this super intense poison alcohol brew and thats what gets him. That doesnt make it better. I dont know of any toxic substance that makes a person explode. Its not otherwise explosive. That isnt a thing that happens. There's no point someone gets so fat and so full that they explode. Its a gross outcome for a character you're intended to be entirely disgusted by. (its also not any kind of representation for people who consume various uh tabboo substances but I cant really speak to that aspect).

Two fat people, neither entirely human or allowed to be a person, one an asshole and one with no good ending. Like. cmon. You figured out how to animate dragonborn faces, and tails, you can have people be fat. It isnt actually a monstrous trait its actually super normal, its weird and urealistic that everyone in all of Faerun is slim. That doesnt happen in real life. The gender/sex options, and the vitiligo, thats fantastic. Yes keep representing and letting us play as all kinds of different people. Add some body types that arent just tall short/slim muscular too! For the player and the NPC's.

[barovianbunny]

ther and ronin road trip/runaways story?

Hello!!! This took me a bit to get around to and it's short but i hope you like it!!

Just like Heaven

The summer air is thick and muggy, holding as much breath back as you are. Your best friend, the girl-not-a-girl your world entertangles with moment by moment holds the frail body of a dying bird in their hands, grieving it like a lost child; You’re just children yourselves. Its small body heaves with more effort than you’ve ever seen an animal labor in your existence of roaming through dusty parking lots and silent playgrounds. You tear your eyes away from the crumpled thing, your eyes burrowing into the face of its gentle undoing. This is what Angelwood does; It undoes the small, fragile parts of you and disfigures them. It’s no telling when your own body will grow tired. 

They cry softly, breaking at the seams, as they seldom do. Very few have seen Estridge like this. There are times where you can hardly bear to see them either, but the ugly parts of you waltz jarring and off key, disjointed and divine. You can’t stand the thought of leaving them alone, and you don’t want to be alone either, you can admit, if only to yourself in the swell of your chest. You lean gingerly against them, enough to place your weight without being imposing. You don't reach your arms ‘round. Ther doesn’t like the sort of print that fingertips can leave.

“It’s not fair, Ro.”

You exhale softly, lips pursing as you dwell over your thoughts. They’re right. But they never said anything about fairness in church. They only talk about confessions and repentance and holy apocalypse- earth shattering, hollow, heartless prattle that speaks more to loving their vices than their children. You spend a moment. 

You think you can love them better than the church ever could. You at least have to try. 

“You gotta let it go. It’s slowin’ down now.”

Your stomach is in your throat. All you can think about is broken wings and broken cries. Angelwood will dismember what thunders behind your ribcage before an ear is ever cast to hear it if you stay- you know you’ve got to get both of you the fuck out of there. 

After they say goodbye.

You sit up, arm still resting against their own as you open up the shoebox, with dented corners and scratched up cardboard, years of wear and tear. You kept your writings in here before, but you’ll find somewhere new to stow them. When they asked you to help them with the memorial, you didn’t hesitate, nor even stop to think. It’s easier not to think around them. You know they hate that about you sometimes. 

Tiny hands lower an empty dove into the box and a couple more slow strokes of their knuckle softly move against the breast of the thing, as if to give a wordless apology they never owed. This was grief. This was the world you knew, with cracks beneath the surface bound to be filled by the time the sun and moon cast their shadows over their perfect girl. You’d live under a starless sky if it meant they never felt looked through again. The box lowers into the ground, lid concealing the last moments of vulnerability that this backyard was meant to know. You push the dirt over it so they don’t get it under their fingernails. 

It’s summers later when you finally get through to their ears. You almost don’t believe it, but in the stir of a weekend of sneaking out windows, whispered laughter, shared breath and smudged lipstick, they agree to hear you out. You plant seeds with your pentameter, musing stories of a new start, a new town, a new you. New rooms to steal kisses in, places to break and be broken in, and that would be enough. You agree to meet at midnight, and they kiss you goodbye at the window when they leave you. 

Suitcases, intertwined fingers, matching bracelets. Wrists that shake the same as they did on the day you understood what love meant, what you imagine most people anticipate feeling at a golden gate. Heaven is here, and they’ll be free of this soon, and most of all they don’t belong to shitty towns with shitty people, borrowed homes to shitty gods. Heaven is in the passenger seat of a pickup truck that you definitely don’t have a license to drive, knowing you’ll have to let it crash and burn somewhere, but isn’t that the best part? To burn bright and burn out, dissipating into the darkness where you can laugh away broken ribs and heavy hearts?    

Heaven holds your hand- and you count this a blessing, since it doesn’t do that so often- as you sell your stolen sob story to the older man at the motel counter, who passes the key to you without another word. You sink endlessly into blue eyes, spinning them in your arms , freedom prickling you as a too-warm, dingy, smoke-yellowed bedroom with stories beyond comprehension, of others who sought their freedom in a world beyond saving. Your world lies next to you on the too-stiff mattress, eyes tracing your face. When they kiss you, you soften. Even the Devil can’t contend with the mercy of his devotion.

There are nights on the way out when you see that same grief. Tears pricking at the edges of eyes that rarely softened, a quiver in signature red lipstick, manicured nails digging into the palms of hands which held none of the burden left on the heart. They cried for their parents, for the home they’d left behind. For the person that died more and more each day. You remind them more bluntly then you mean that things have to die, and sometimes we are better for it. They still cry, rattling a closed fist against the floor. You’ll have to move from here too, soon, and the aftershocks of divinity will ripple through outdated wallpaper and linoleum floors. You resent the place for holding any part of them hostage. 

You watch them look themselves over in the mirror, shifting the fabric of the baggy jacket and oversized tee in ways that betray their analytical nature. Something budding and uncomfortable and new. The way it sits in your throat like the taste of blood, raw and uncanny - You wore that feeling once. A soft smile on your lips, but you speak nothing. They turn to you with that same tight-lipped expression, the refusal to betray what inklings you’ve already seen to scripture. 

“You almost wear it better’n I do.”

The softening is almost never there. 

“Almost? Beaufort, I’d say I’m giving you a run for your money.”

You grin wide, bleeding heart seeping adoration. The silver tongue never fails to enrapture. 

“Care t’dance in devilry, Estridge? Since the uniform suits you so well.”

You reach out your free hand, the other locking into the handle of the suitcase. An invitation, an unspoken overture. They rest their hand in yours, laughing softly as they never do, your chest swelling with the weight your heart carries. Some might even call it love. Opening the door to the truck for them, they lean in close and whisper, saccharine and iron, 

“About time someone showed you how to do it right. Maybe now you won’t have to lay it on so thick.”

[npookie0]

A broken soul.

Thernin - soulmate au.

Tw/cw - Family abuse mentions - Suicide - Major character death - Homophobia - Murder, gore, blood etc.

Six year old Ro was laying down in her bed, looking at her mother who was about to tell a bedtime story so the little child could fall asleep. The woman was clearly unhappy with having to read to her daughter. Ro saw the displeasure in her mother’s eyes, she only showed kindness when Ro was well behaved, when she didn’t fight, talk, or move if possible. Ro felt like she was choked, suffocated by all the rules she has to follow. 

“Do you want mommy to tell you the story of why your vision is with no colour?” The woman asked, the fake smile glued to her face. Yes, Ro’s mother was a cold woman, a cruel woman. After all the Beaufort’s were a cursed family, cursed with suicidal children, Satan's family, unable to be cleansed from sin. 

Ro finally focused on her mother’s question. No colour. That’s how Ro saw the world, blacks, whites and grays. She didn’t know why it looked this way, she hated it, she heard adults talking about how cute she looks in pink, how girly she looks. 

“Will you tell me?” Ro asked, curiosity in those black empty eyes of hers. Empty like her mother, black like her father’s heart. 

“Of course sweetie, mommy will tell you.” Fake smiles. She didn’t even bother trying harder to make the smile feel real. Not bothered to show her daughter some love, grace her with warmth, or teach her about feelings and emotions. Religion, the only virtue this family had, other than pride and all the sin leaking from the shadows. 

Ro’s mother tucked her under the blankets, kissing the top of her head and tried her hardest to hide the disgust she felt through gritted teeth. 

“Listen and listen well Ro, I will tell this story only once.” The woman took a long breath before she started the story. “In our world ever since Adam and Eve betrayed our Holy Father we were punished severely, seeing black and white is also a part of His great punishment. Luckily, Our Lord is forgiving and graced us with the ability to see his wonderful creation once we meet our soulmate, so when you meet a good boy Ro you will be able to see colour.” She said, the pain in her cold eyes visible even for the six year old. There were so many secrets she hid, from her daughter, husband and herself. So many things she was never able to accept. 

“Did you start to see colour when you met daddy?” Ro asked, she knew the answer, she knew that what her mother would say was a lie, she caught on rather quickly. Maybe it’s the fact that she also can’t see colour when a boy hits her? Instead of seeing pretty greens or pinks, she fights back, getting her dresses dirty and the boy’s nose broken. 

“Of course honey, mommy’s world is so happy and colourful, she can’t wait for her little jewel to see all the colours too.” 

Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie.Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie.Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie.Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie.Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie.Lie. Lie. Lie.

All ms. Beaufort ever does is lie. Lie with a smile glued to her face, hiding the bruises and wounds her husband leaves on her. No one will hear her screams, no one will see her tears, no one besides her daughter who she despises. If only she was never born… If only she killed her daughter when she still had time… Maybe she would be free now. 

A few days have passed since the conversation, Ro was still seeing in three shades only. Her family called her a good girl or a dirty brat, depending on how Ro behaved. Ro did everything to be called a brat, a boy in girl’s disguise, a devil. Somehow it felt much better than being referred to as a girl, a girl… something that Ro felt to be unfit to her behaviour and interests...

While Ro was playing outside, throwing rocks at all crosses she saw and running away when upset grown ups came out to shout and chase her away. It gave her a feeling of freedom, cured her boredom, she just acted like all the boys did, copying their behaviour and claiming it as hers. 

On one of these journeys Ro stumbled upon someone. normally she wouldn’t care too much. It was just another kid, with strangely colored hair… wait. Colour? Ro looked down at the girl who she pushed to the ground when she was escaping one of the older ladies. 

The world around them was… strange. The girl had long ginger hair, cold, piercing blue eyes and a scowl on her face. But Ro could see something more in those eyes of hers, fear. She’s afraid. Of what? Ro? No.. that’s not it. It’s something way deeper than that. Before Ro could do anything, her mother’s voice reached her ears. 

“Roselyn! Roselyn Beaufort! Apologise right this instant!” She said, grabbing her firmly by her forearm and basically throwing Ro down, not caring that the girl’s knees were scraped and bleeding. 

Ro yelped in surprise, hissing when the rocks, small pieces of glass and gravel were basically stuck in her knees. She looked at the girl, shock from all the new colours still present in Ro’s mind. She was intrigued, but she couldn’t ask about anything with mother around, it was dangerous. 

“I’m sorry for pushing you to the ground, please forgive me.” The apology wasn’t genuine, wasn’t even close to being one. Ro always said the same apology, it lost its meaning after being used so often. But no one cared, nothing in Angelwood was genuine, not even the faith the town was supposed to have. People didn’t love God, they were afraid of him and even Ro knew that. 

“I forgive you… Roselyn.” That’s all the girl said before she walked away, bidding farewell to Ro’s mother. She acted strange, like she was ashamed or afraid of something. Ro was intrigued, and she was going to make it her life mission to figure this out. 

For the next few days, Ro was following behind Ethereality like she’s the girl’s shadow. Stalking behind her, ditching all of her favourite activities. The girl ignored Ro, or at least tried to, until one day she snapped. 

“Stop following me!” She suddenly shouted when Ro was walking closely behind her. Ro didn’t back away, oh no, she was directly behind the girl, hands on her shoulder, keeping her in one place. 

“Or what? You’ll push me? Scream? Cry? It took you days to react, you won’t do anything.” Ah yes, the ever confident Ro. Not even in front of a new ‘friend’ will the behavior change. 

“Just leave me alone Roselyn! Why are you insisting on following me?” Ro chuckled, the sound loud, filled with mockery. Ro figured out that Etherality also saw colour since the day they met, she noticed how curiously she watched her surroundings, Ro did the same. 

“Don’t act stupid, you’re supposed to be the big girl, the smart one.” Ro said, practically laughing at all the ways adults called Ethereality so perfect and well behaved. “You see them too, I know it, you know it!” Ro was strangely aggressive, shaking the girl by her shoulders. Maybe she was mimicking the way her father treats her mother? After all, the parents’ relationship is the only way for a child to figure out how affection is shown. 

“Stop! Stop this!” Ethereality shouted, pushing Ro to the ground. “You’re delusional! I don’t see any colour! And even if I did, it wouldn’t be because of you. Girls can only like boys, end of story!” This made Ro laugh even more, she was laying on the ground new bruises on her arms and legs from the fall. Holding herself by the stomach and laughing maniacally. It was definitely the family’s fault.  “Oh you little angel, you saint! They told you that? Who’s to decide what we can or we can’t do? Humans?” Oh that was so amusing to her, maybe it’s her discovering the truth of this world at such a young age, or maybe how amusing Ethereaity’s reactions were? Who’s to say…

“Welcome to Angelwood.” Ronin’s head rose when he heard the old well known bitchy voice of Ther’s. His lips twisted in a smirk.

Oh Ther, the person who made Ronin see colour, the person who was denying being his soulmate so much that he laughed in their face when they confessed that it might be true. He didn’t care about the world being in colours, the only colour he needed to see was the one of Ther’s eyes or maybe their annoyingly bright hair, the colour of their skin or lips. 

“Hah, no need to greet me babe, nothing ever changes in this shitty town. It’s like last time.” He shrugged and looked down at them, his eyes lighting up. “I came to fetch you my darling dearest.” He said and pulled them in closer by their hand. 

“Ro- I’m not going anywhere. I’m to be Prom Queen, I won’t leave because of your whims.” They said and shot him a glare. 

“Oh, of course Angelwood girl. You can’t leave without your crown can you?” He asked, a mocking glint in his eyes.

What a cocky bastard Ronin is. Annoyingly handsome bastard. 

“What now? Staying to watch or what?” Ther asked. 

“Watch you suffer? Yeah why fucking not, seeing you play this holy girl, it’ll be a show of centuries.” He scoffed and leaned in closer. “I’ll enjoy watching all of the people hanging from the gym’ ceiling.” He whispered and looked down at the wedding band that Ther was wearing. “Aw, did our dear fucking Doughton already put his seal on you?”

“Ronin don’t, please-” Ther tried to stop him from talking while they were walking to wherever Ronin was taking them. 

“Stop what? He probably thinks that he can fucking own you, like you’re his trophy or whatever. I can’t wait to wreck him up, break his fucking neck, watch the blood spill.” He was talking his mind out, not caring about Ther practically silencing him with their hand so he would hut up. 

“Shut up Ro! Please… They’ll fucking hear you, all of them… and the angel too.” It was then where Ronin noticed how exhausted Ther looked. 

They were much thinner than when he saw them last, their already unnaturally pale skin was almost as pale as his. 

“Ther… What the fuck is happening? Are you…. doing this again?” He sounded desperate, who would want their soulmate, their partner to wither away like this? Definitely not Ronin Beaufort. He can be an asshole, the devil himself in Angelwood’s eyes, but for fucks sake, he would never leave Ther in this state alone. 

“It’s nothing Ro. I just… I’m fine.” Of course they weren’t and they knew that Ronin saw right through them. It was the thing they found the most annoying, that stupid soulmate connection and Ronin’s observative nature were a curse and a blessing at the same time. 

Luckily Ther also seen right through him, especially when the two of them were younger. They saw his anger, how he tried to hide the bruises or how he stopped himself from crying out his frustrations when it all was too much for a child to take. Ther wouldn’t comment on anything, they would just get close and let him pretend that he just needs to sleep on their shoulder. 

“Nothing my ass, it’s the Prom Queen shit, isn't it?” He asked through gritted teeth. “Or maybe it’s Craig? Maybe you should finally fuckign slice his throat, cut his eyes out, gut him open and let all of this bullshit drop.” It wasn’t a question. Ronin knew that it’s what Ther needs, they need Craig’s blood spilled, they need to get all of this out. 

“I… No Ro, he’s… he’s my boyfriend.” They chose to deny it. They needed to deny it. Ther needs to keep this act up, they’re not Ther, they’re Ethereality, a pretty girl, Angelwood’s saint girl. 

Or that’s how the town shaped them. Took them apart, broke their bones, poisoned their brain… Maybe Ronin is the only one who truly sees them? Maybe that’s what the soulmate thing is about, you see colours and secrets, nothing is able to stay hidden from you, especially if your name is Ronin fucking Beaufort. The son of the cursed bloodline, devil boy and proud Satan’s spawn. 

“Come on darlin’, you want this. Kill Craig, then the rest of this town… And we can go somewhere far, as far as you’d like.” Ronin whispered tempting promises into Ther’s ears. Persuading them into self claiming their freedom…

And Ther wasn’t that hard to break, especially with Ronin around. 

Craig’s body was at their feet. His face forever frozen in one of fear, he was screaming while he was dying. 

“All that screaming and for what? Ah, Craig, Craig.” Ronin chuckled and kicked his head with his shoe. “Almost made me feel bad for ya, almost…” Ronin spat at him. 

“And what was it about respecting the dead?” Ther asked, looking at the bloody crowbar in their hand. “Where did you even get this?” They asked, dropping it to the ground and watching as it bounced off of the corpse. 

“You don’t hafta know everything, love.” He chuckled and looked at how the body looked.

Guts spilled out, Craig’s legs crashed, his bones were basically flat, broken was an understatement. His blood was splayed everywhere, on the grass, swings, trashcan. It was a gory mess, and Ronin was proud of it. Letting Ther go all out has always been one of his favourite activities, although they usually didn’t actually kill, just got their frustrations out by hitting Ronin’s torso and crying, or shouting at the stars and sky. 

“Just make sure to not give it back, I don’t need anyone having brains and whatever else on their tools.” Ther said, guessing that Ronin probably stole it, stealth was the least of the sins he committed against humanity. 

“Awh of course, I’ll take it as a memorial of your spilled blood baby.” He walked up to them. “Would’ja grant me this dance?” He asked after he bowed and outstretched his hand towards Ther. 

“How romantic.” They huffed and took his hand. 

They needed music. They danced, sharing this moment of peace in between chaos. It was a truly grotesque moment, two teenagers dancing next to a corpse, swaying to the sound of wind in perfect harmony, no words needed, just stares and Ronin’s smirks. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful like this. Bloody and broken, my perfectly imperfect rot.” Ronin whispered. 

“Rot? Just like you?” They asked, their voice also hushed to a whisper. 

“We’re rot. You and I both, love.” He leaned in, connected their lips in a slow deliberate kiss. 

If only he knew that this would be their last kiss… Maybe he should’ve kidnapped Ther, take them away when he still could…

Maybe now he would still feel full, see everything he couldn’t imagine himself to miss seeing. Maybe he wouldn’t stand in front of a fucking grave. . . 

Ther basically told Ronin to return home, it was shortly before their Prom, they didn’t want Ronin there. They “wanted” to be Prom Queen. And Ronin’s protests were ignored. 

So now he’s back to where he came from, everything in his small cramped house a mess, the perfect image of his mind. He felt his heart ache every time he thought of Ther, they could share some sort of connection in feelings, he felt Ther’s pain, sometimes unsure if their pain was his or actually theirs. 

He felt frustrated, weak, angry. Why did he agree to leave? Why couldn’t he fucking push them… 

He knew the answer. He didn’t want to be the same as everyone. Pushing Ther would only hurt them, he needed control yeah, but not when the person he want to keep under his care was controlled their whole life, unable to decide one thing for themselves without a punishment. 

“Fuck!” He shouted and threw the bloody crowbar to the ground. His chest was rising and falling, he tried to stay somewhat calm, tried to tell himself that his decision was right, that when he comes back after he gets enough money for new plain tickets Ther will want to go with him… He just needs to wait six months, half a year worth of collecting money, that should be easy. 

Maybe if he didn’t take up working in a small workshop owned by an elderly mechanic he would have an easier time getting money faster, but no one wanted to hire a whipster like him, he wasn’t surprised. With his temper it was hard to keep clients as regulars from time to time. 

While Ronin was losing himself in his thoughts he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his head and a wave of distress falling over him, he had to lean on a wall. 

“What the fuck… Ther… what the fuck is going on there…”

He hissed out, trying to bear the pain through gritted teeth, he has no chance against his soulmate's pain, he can only wait this out, wait for them to feel better, if that moment ever arrives… 

Maybe he should have been a stubborn bastard and kill off every fucking student at the great ball when he still had the chance. Maybe it would ease Ther’s need to stay as the perfect Angelwood girl, the saint amongst saints, and the follower of angels, even if they tire them out and cause them to lose sleep, loose themselves and slowly die out, losing their light. 

Maybe that’s why they were made for eachother? A self made devil, a man who had to create the male shell for himself, and a person who holds onto the memory of a girl, a painful memory that they were shaped into. Maybe Ronin was birthed into this world to keep Ther’s nature under control? 

Maybe their rotten connection was deeper than the two of them thought.

Half a year.

That’s how long Ronin had to wait. 

During this time he felt Ther’s emotions stronger than ever, the pain was never ending, it made his life harder, almost unbearable, it was mostly their heart aching. 

Sometimes he couldn't take it, wanting to gut himself open just to stop feeling this, but then he reminded himself of going to Ther, saving them this time for sure. 

Now, after a twelve hour flight, and a long drive on a bus, he was almost ready to get out, ready to find Ther, ready to corrupt them, this time for good. 

But, while Ronin was standing in front of the door, ready to leave the bus, his vision turned black and white, Deprived of all colour. 

It felt weird. He also felt this weird sense of emptiness? As if he just lost something deep within his heart. He chose to ignore it, blaming it on his fucked up mind. It made sense, a lot of sense. At least until he got out of the bus and a memory of his mother came back to him. 

“Roselyn, remember, if you ever lose all colour it means that your soulmate is gone. And that is the worst feeling ever… Not that mommy ever experienced it, mommy has daddy and he is alive.” Oh, those eyes full of lies and sorrow. Her world was empty, gray, no colour present in her world, and it’s all because she wasn’t careful that one night… “I wish you the same happiness Ro, I hope you will feel exactly the same way mommy does.”

Ronin didn’t understand these feelings then. But now he does, and he feels them all too well. His mother cursed him. cursed him with the Beaufort bloodline, unlucky sinners forsaken by heaven and God. 

With his mother’s words in mind, the colour deprived world in front of him and the ever present emptiness he rushed to Ther’s house. Pushing everyone out of his way, not caring about anyone anymore, he has to make sure that he’s wrong, that his mother was wrong. 

He reached their house, climbing the stairs to their room. His whole body felt heavy, mind was too loud, Ronin felt nauseous, like he was about to faint at any given moment. 

He pushed the door open, his eyes glued to the floor and then he looked up.

.

.

.

The sight in front of him was the worst thing ever. Ther. His Ther. Hanging up from the ceiling, thin, pale and unbreathing. Frozen in time like a doll, a doll with a rope hugging their neck. 

Ronin took a few cautious steps towards the body. 

“Th… Ther… It isn’t fucking funny. I know you're alive. You’re not fucking dead.” He said, his voice laced with despair, pain, all of the sorrow. He didn’t feel this way when he saw his mother in this situation. 

“Ther, fuck, open your eyes. Open your fucking eyes!” He basically shook the body. Then he desperately looked for a knife, once he found one he cut the rope and caught their still warm body. 

“Ther! Ther! Ther!” He was shouting, sliding to the floor with the dead body in his arms. He couldn’t believe it, how could he let this fucking happen?

How could he lose control? How could he disappoint his rotten saint so much? 

Now, with nothing but emptiness filling his body he could only hold their body. 

Even his heart was slowly washing all the emotions away, as if it was doomed to never beat for anyone again, as if Ther was truly his one and only love forever. 

After all, having a soulmate is both a curse and a blessing. 

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Just wanna send some love from your neighbour. You are an incredibly strong person and a pillar for this community and don't be afraid to say how we can best support you right now besides flooding you with Cpt Price and his baby blues.

Thanks, glut. I'll be ok. It's been a tough few weeks but plans are in motion. Dual citizenship might just end up saving my arse in a few years.

Always open to more Price and those baby blues though!

[pastelispunx]

This is the funniest thing I've ever come Across in my gif searches