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a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 2 years

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ʚ Pairing: Nuada x Fem. Reader

ʚ Summary : You’re bored and explore the library, the one area of the palace that had been forbiden to you. While gaping at a bunch of painted erotica, Nuada finds you. What will his reaction be? What will be the final outcome be?

ʚ Themes: Slow burn | Soft | Smut

ʚ Warnings: Explicit content of a sexual nature | Coarse language

Minors DNI.

The library was as vast as it was well stocked. You weren’t sure if you were even supposed to be here. The prince never invited you in here, but you were bored out of your wits, and exploring this underground palace you had come to call home led you to this room.

You looked around, eyeing everything you came across. There was an ancient Sumerian sculpture of the Goddess Ningal. It was in pristine condition, the sapphire eyes still gleaming as if they were first set into the marble. Over in another corner was some sort of stone block. The inscriptions had faded, and the words were barely legible. You look around again, your eyes going over to a glass case. Curiosity got the better of you, and you went over to it. It held a series of stone tablets. The art on them made your eyes burn.

"I never knew you were into ancient Roman erotica."

The voice behind you made you jump out of your skin. "And I do not recall giving you permission to be in here, y/n."

Oh oh. Your host, the one you had been sent to live with. Nuada Silverlance, Crown Prince of Bethmoora, had been tasked with looking after you as part of an exchange between mortals and the children of the earth. And right now, he did not sound happy.

"I said, I do not recall giving you permission to be here."

He was expecting an answer. An explanation. You kept your back to him while a string of words stumbled out of your mouth. "I was bored, your grace. I walked around, and I found this room." You hoped it would work, you wanted it to work. Nuada was very proud and very, very private. "I just wanted to see. I didn’t touch anything, at least I didn’t touch anything, and I-I-I…"

He chuckled and took a step towards you. "Curiosity killed the cat. Isn’t that something you mortals are so fond of saying?" Nuada peered over your shoulder to look at the images on the tablet and smirked. "Ironic, really. The Romans were prudish in some ways. Cato once expelled a man from the senate after he was seen kissing his wife in public."

He was right behind you now. You could feel his breath on your hair. "So, y/n," He cooed, "see anything you like?"

Your cheeks felt like someone had taken a blow-torch to them. Sure, the frescoes were... interesting, to say the least. Some had even piqued your curiosity, but how do you answer such a question? How?

"Y/n?" Nuada traced a finger down your arm, making you tremble. "Do. You. See. Anything. You. Like?"

"I-I-I-" You stammered when you felt his nose brush against your hair and his body trembling against yours with each deep breath he took. The world around you started to spin like it had been thrown off its axis. You felt dizzy, warm, feverish. "I-I-"

"You always seem to stumble whenever you’re around me." Nuada had been playing with the strands of your hair, letting them slip through his fingers like water. "You do it a lot. Over your feet sometimes, over your words most of the time. Why is that?”

You bite your lip. Now may not be the best time for confessions.

Nuada leaned in even closer. You felt his armor brush against your blouse. "Tell me, y/n," he murmured. "Why do you stumble when you’re around me?"

When his nose brushed over your hair again, your tongue loosened and grew a mind of its own. You wanted to say you were shy, and you mumble around others. What you actually said was, "I like you, your grace."

Horrified, you clapped both your hands to your mouth. You had had a crush on Nuada for weeks, and now, it was out in the open. While you had been gawking over ancient Roman porn. Damn your tongue and its bizarre sense of timing. "Please forgive me, your grace," you mumbled. "I didn’t mean it like that an--"

"Call me Nuada, y/n." He chuckled, his face half buried in your hair. "Well, well, well. This is an interesting development. So you do like me. It all makes sense now. The stammering, the flushed cheeks," Nuada said, taking a deep breath and running a finger down your arm again, making you shiver. "The stolen looks…"

Shocked, you exclaim, "You noticed that?"

Goddammit, what is with your tongue today? Perhaps a visit to a cloistered nunnery was in order, so you could learn how to rein in that wayward muscle of yours.

Nuada chuckled again, his hand moving over to your shoulder now. "You’re not as subtle as you thought you were, y/n."

Your cheeks felt like someone had set them on fire again. You think you should leave. "I’ll go... Nuada."

There was a flash in his eyes when you said his name, something you couldn't put your finger on. As for your leaving?

Nuada had other ideas, and he grabbed onto your wrist to stop you from leaving. He pulled you back and made you face him. "You’re not going anywhere y/n."

He looked like he meant it. Damn it. You think you're in such trouble now. A good tongue lashing, if you’re lucky. A lecture on your daring to even like the prince. You kept still, your eyes downcast. "Look up at me, y/n. That’s an order."

His voice was sharp, like a whip. You complied and lifted your eyes to his. "Do you really like me, y/n? And no lies," he warned. "I have neither the time nor the patience for lies."

Your tongue grew a mind of its own again, and you squeaked out a quiet, "Yes."

Nuada chuckled softly this time. "Now was that so hard?"

A large hand going up your thigh made you whimper. "If only you knew."

He chuckled again. This time, he lowered his head to nuzzle your cheek. "What is that smell?" he hummed against your skin.

"Soap?" you utter in confusion. When Nuada laughed, it sounded so sweet to you. "Well, y/n, what if I liked you too?"

"You what?"

His hand went higher and rested on your hip. Even through your jeans, you could feel the heat of his palm on your skin. "I like you." He curled a finger under your chin, tilting it to the side so he could nip at your earlobe. The sensation of his teeth latching onto your flesh made your heart pick up a few beats. Your skin warmed, your eyes closed. Your breath grew weak, shallow. "A lot. I want you," Nuada continued before he nipped your earlobe again. This time, he bit harder and made you gasp. "I have to have you. All to myself. I hate seeing those puny fools in your office trying to talk to you. Seeing them hover around you vexes me a great deal."

Through the fog his kisses created, you somehow found a way to recollect. The angry looks whenever he came to pick you up from work. The clenched fists if a colleague tried to flirt with you. He had liked you. All this time, he had liked you, and you had been oblivious to it. "You’re mine, y/n. Mine." He growled possessively when he pulled away. "Is that understood?"

That hand on your hip went higher, sneaking under your blouse and resting over your belly. Fingers curling over your skin made your breath hitch, made you want. You knew exactly what you wanted to say this time. "Yes. I understand."

"Good." Nuada tilted your chin with his other hand, only this time it resulted with his lips flush against yours. When his tongue licked past your parted lips and you trembled beneath him, he groaned. "Now tell me, y/n," he whispered between kisses. "Which one of those pictures caught your eye?"

You gulped but waited till he pulled away just long enough for you to look at and point. Nuada grinned wickedly when his eyes rested on the picture that interested you the most.

"No." He shook his head and smirked. You had been pouting, disappointed with his no. "I’d rather be looking into your eyes during our first time together, not at the back of your head." Nuada gestured to the stone tablets. "Choose another picture."

There was that blow-torch to your cheeks again. "That then?"

Nuada looked at the picture you pointed at. "Yes." He nodded briefly. "I can do that. Come with me."

He led you to a corner table, swiping away all of the papers and documents he had left on it earlier. Everything fell to the floor in a flurry of paper and pens and stamps, leaving the table bare. Nuada patted the polished hardwood top. "Up."

You rest your hands on the edge of the table and hoist yourself up. "Y-you," you felt a thrill when he removed his sword belt and tossed it to the side. "Y-you want to do this?"

Nuada removed his chest plate and tossed that as well. It fell to the ground with a sharp clang. "I do." He rested his hands on the table and leaned in, his lips just hovering over yours. "To you. Just you." You trembled when he caressed your thighs when his eyes swept over your jeans. "But this is only going to get in my way. Get rid of it." He ordered as he stood back, to give you room. "Now."

Your cheeks grew hot, but you slipped out of your shoes before unzipping and shimmying out of your jeans. Nuada ran his fingers over your thighs, making you feel little stabs of desire whenever they traced a line. "Soft," he murmured. "Just like I thought it would be."

You mumbled, "Soft?"

"Your skin." Fingers crept under the hem of your panties. When he tugged on it, you lifted your hips so he could take it off. Goosebumps spread over your exposed skin when that piece of cotton drifted over your thighs and feet before joining your jeans on the floor. "I always wondered if it was soft." His lips skimmed over yours before drifting to your jawline. "All I ever wondered about was how soft your skin was." Teeth scraping along your jaw made your breath hitch, made you whisper more. It encouraged him. "What you looked like under your clothes." You closed your eyes when he pushed your legs apart and stood right in front of you. He breathed in your ear, "What would it be like to touch you. To have you under me." He trembled when you found some courage and snuck your hand under his tunic. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath.

You pulled your hand back, thinking you had done something to annoy him. "Sorry," you mumble.

Nuada lifted his eyes to you before removing his tunic. He wanted to feel your hand on his body again. "There is nothing," He took your hands and placed them on his tummy. "To say sorry for."

You let your hands drift over his belly, over the scars just below his ribcage. "Do these hurt?"

They looked like they had never healed properly, the lines looked jagged and a little pink. Nuada kept perfectly still, all while fighting the urge to tilt your head back and kiss you. The feeling of your hands gliding over his body brought him close to losing his control. "No. Not anymore. They’re healed, they’re just--"

He gasped when you kissed the scars. Nuada grabbed onto a nearby chair, to steady himself, while his other hand buried itself in your hair. His breath came out in huffs and pants when you swirled your tongue over each line. He moaned softly when your kisses moved higher, gliding throughout his chest. The soft sucking noises you made when you bit on his flesh brought out a growl from him. "Stop."

He grabbed onto your hair and gently pulled your head back when you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. "Turn your head to a side," Nuada said, running a thumb over your already bruised lips. The two of you had barely gotten started. "And let me see that neck of yours."

When you tilted your head to the side, he dipped his to the soft curve of your neck. You hummed when teeth scraped over flesh when lips sucked down after. "Nuada," you whimpered when he bit harder, as if determined to leave his mark on you. "Others could see."

He growled and bit even more aggressively. "I want them to see," he whispered against your throat. "I want others to see who you belong to. I want those pathetic males to fucking stop talking to you the way they do." When you moaned, he couldn’t help but ask, "Harder?"

You pulled your hair over your other shoulder to keep it out of his way. Your hands held onto the edge of the table as you tilted your head to the side even more. "Please."

A callused hand buried itself in your hair. You hummed and swallowed hard when teeth scraped against your flesh again. Nuada rested his free hand on the table to better balance himself. When teeth gave way to soft lips, and soft lips gave way to his tongue, your skin warmed up like crazy. You gasped and shivered with every kiss, every nibble. Your legs moved over his before hooking around his waist. Nuada growled again, this time letting go of your hair and gliding his hand over your body. He reduced you to a trembling mess when he caressed your breasts over the fabric of your blouse. "I like how your body shakes," he whispered against your throat. "When I touch you like this." When his breath fanned over your skin, you moaned again. Your breathing had grown frantic, desperate. When you lifted your hand to try and touch him, he stopped you. "Keep them behind you."

You moved your hands behind you, although it was hard to keep them still. You just wanted to touch him. Nuada narrowed his eyes and pinned your wrists together, pressing his body against you. "I should use a scarf next time, tie you up, and stop you from struggling so much." Your flushed cheeks only served to amuse him. "Would you like that, y/n?" he asked. "Me tying you up?"

You managed to squeak out, "Silk scarves?"

Amusement gave way to lust. Nuada grasped your chin with his free hand, tilting your head up so he could kiss you. His tongue licked past your parted lips again. His lips gently sucked on yours. Nuada released his grip on your chin and let his hand travel down your body, sneaking under your top to play with your breasts, brushing over your tummy, and your thighs, before coming to rest on your clit. He groaned as he rubbed a finger against your slit, and you mewled into his kiss. As Nuada pulled away, his eyes had grown wild and ark. "Already wet for me."

Your eyes scrunched shut when he slipped a finger into your cunt. It had been so long since someone had touched you like this and your body trembled and shook like it had been starving for weeks. Nuada inserted a second finger, and a third, stretching your walls every time he pushed those fingers inside. He'd curl them slightly whenever they hit a certain spot, making you moan and whimper even louder. Nuada rested his brow on yours, eagerly lapping up your little noises, your moans, and whimpers. "Open your eyes, y/n. Let me look into those beautiful eyes of yours."

You forced your eyes open, and find his drowning in yours. Your breath grew ragged, and his eyes never left yours. With each thrust, your mouth opened in loud cries, and his gaze never left yours. His grip on your wrists grew tighter when your wet walls pulsed around his fingers, making you feel so full. If he could do that with just his fingers…

On seeing your dreamy eyes, Nuada pressed himself to you, caging your body to his. "What are you thinking about, y/n?"

You bit your lip, but your tongue loosed again when his chest trembled against yours. "Your cock," You breathed and arched your back when those fingers of his curled inside of you again. "I--"

You let out a loud cry when he pushed in deep and very nearly took you over the edge. "You want it?" Nuada cooed, his fingers still relentless. "You want my cock inside you?"

"Mhhm."

Nuada hummed, "Soon." His eyes were still on yours, this time next to impossible to read. Your own impulses got the better of you and you reared forward to kiss him, sucking on his bottom lip as you did so. Nuada purred lazily before pulling away just a little when your head rolled back, your eyes squeezed shut. "N-Nuada--" you could feel your walls pulsing, your muscles coiling. "I-I t-think I-I’m g-going to--"

He dipped his head again, his mouth latching on to the bruised spot on your neck. "Cum," he mumbled between little nibbles. He managed to keep his focus, moving his fingers at a frantic pace, not slowing down even a beat. Every time you felt a jolt from those bites, a flash of pain, your pelvis would grind into his hand, allowing him to go deeper and further, and then those coiled muscles snapped. The orgasm that washed over you was the most intense you had ever experienced, knocking the breath right out of your lungs. Nuada held onto you, his fingers were ceaseless and intense.

The world felt like it had skidded to a halt, your vision kind of blanked out a little. Your focus was skewed. You couldn’t think, could barely breathe. All you could feel were the trembles of your body, of the hot breath against your throat. You vaguely heard a deep and satisfied groan when your cunt tightened around his fingers. The seconds ticked by as the world slowly drifted into focus. You felt your body grow empty. You faintly heard the sound of someone licking their fingers. You trembled when someone ran their tongue over the beads of sweat that had formed over your skin. "You taste delicious," Nuada grinned wolfishly when you opened your eyes to him, to what he was doing. His own chest trembled like he had been running hard. He tilted your chin again, his brow resting on yours. "You want more, y/n? You want more of what I just did to you?"

You could barely nod. Your breath was still hazy. The table felt cold and hard beneath you. Nuada let go of you completely and walked over to a bookcase, pulling out a thick blue volume. There was a loud creak, and the entire bookcase swung out. You finally see why the prince didn’t want people in this library. His bedroom had been craftily hidden beyond it. Nuada came back to you, carefully scooping you up and carrying you to it. "How about we try out that first picture you saw?"

#prince nuada #nuada silverlance #nuada x reader #nuada smut #nuada imagine #hellboy #creative writing #writing #amwriting #writeblr #fanfiction #a world of whimsy writes #kinktober #smut-tober

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savoryscribbles · 1 year

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*＊✿❀ handwriting headcanons w/ my favs ❀✿＊*

pairings:bokuto, suna, sakusa(seperatly) x gn!reader

tags: fluff, ranting, not super x reader but you're their partner.

warnings: they/them pronouns, probably a few curse words, lemme know if i should add anything!

word count: 396

a/n: a/n: pt 2 of my 300 follower series :d. i'll add the link when i'm finished with it! (i'm like half way to 500 rn but this is old! pls forgive me!). also these are short and sweet! kinda just wanted to post something!

haikyuu masterlist | general masterlist

bokuto:

messy.

it's practically illegible, but somehow he can always read it perfectly, even if he wrote it a year ago.

it's tilted, but not in one direction. for the love of god don't give this man plan copy paper to write on. one line will be tilted to the write and 5x smaller than the next line which is now tilted to the left.

ambidextrous, he didn't train himself or anything. in fact people consider him ambidextrous simply because his handwriting doesn't get any worse with whatever hand he writes with.

surprisingly decent at cursive, probably because there's a lot of extra loops in his regular handwriting anyways.

suna:

so messy omfg

you can't read it, he can't read it, no one can

don't ever let him write things down for you, it never works. you'll be like "what does this say?" and he just shrugs.

his signature is so sloppy too, lucky for him it doesn't have to be legible

sometimes he'll be cute and try and hand write text messages, particularly if he has an away game and can't call. he actually tries really hard to write neatly, but mans can write nice with a pen, how the hell does he expect himself to write with his finger? his teammates are like "suna you've spent 18 of our 20 minute break rewriting that damn message, hurry up!"

if atsumu is there, he will definitely record suna just rewriting it over and over again. sends it to you, but expects you to make fun of suna, but you find it endearing.

but you do still tease him about it, he gets all pouty though

sakusa

the only one that writes neatly out of the three

he writes in neat cursive, because i hc he comes from like a rich/well off family so they put him in english+cursive lessons

even if his handwriting is neat people still complain because its like cursive so its harder to read

he lowkey gets kinda insecure about it.

like atsumu told him about suna sending his s/o a handwritten message, and now he wants too, but hes worried you wont like it, or say something about his cursive D:

bokuto ends up being his hype man, and sending the message for him, because he's to scared to send it himself

he's very relived when you absolutly adore it :D

#sakusa fluff #sakusa x reader #bokuto fluff #bokuto x reader #suna fluff #suna x reader #sakusa x you #bokuto x you #suna x you #bokuto x gender neutral reader #sakusa x gn!reader #suna x gn!reader #bokuto kotaro x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #suna rintaro x reader

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ultragift · 6 months

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FROM: @vidra-comprehends

TO: @gayrhys

Two robots stare at the old paper. It has legible words on it and is more or less intact compared to the other pages lying around, which the two have already checked. Despite the halcyon weather, V1 keeps it pinned under its foot while V2 reads it out loud.

To my dearest friend!

My fingers are swiftly losing their mobility as I am writing you this letter. Forgive me if it is not very pretty.

While you are scorched by the Sun, I am to suffer its eternal absence. Those around me still moving are banding together, trying to find warmth in the others’ presence, but our bodies only radiate more coldness.

From time to time, the Lake’s ice carries to us the echoes of a great scream. It is terrible, but not at all terrifying. Still, should I venture too close to the middle, I would surely witness something unfit for a human soul. The only other sounds are the heavy steps of souls and the singing ice.

Even as the Greatest Cold overtakes me, I stand by my decision; letting you continue would have been an even greater sin. I hope you will find it in yourself to acknowledge why it was necessary as I will likely never again have the ability to think like a capable man, and so, I could not change my mind even if I wanted to.

With no remorse nor disdain left to warm me-

V2 looks up to see V1 already walking towards the edge of the frozen lake. "You read quickly." V1's rusty speech box spits out a few words. "REMAINING TEXT: IRRELEVANT.”

A strange sensation not unlike overheating registers to the red machine. How dares it? V2 wants to shake it by the shoulder and scream. His fury overpowers his common sense as he takes a few quick steps towards the blue machine, who - in the meantime - has started stomping on the thin ice by the shore.

"Irrelevant? What is wrong with you?! What is wrong with you in general?!"

A quick shot of its revolver makes him freeze in place. He is not at all sure that V1 missed on purpose. His steps are very careful as he catches up to it, but his voice is still full of anger. And condescendence. "You don't get to say that. They matter so much. Do you hear me? They matter! This letter meant something to someone. Hey, are you listening?"

V1 seems to be more invested in the chunks of ice it managed to free.

"Seriously, even after everything we've witnessed on our way down here...? Don't you see? There is so much harm...or there used to be so much harm in the world. No. There still is. These souls are suffering. And the best we could do was k-" An inexplicable error in the speech software. V2 doesn't start again, but he is unable to take the pain out of his voice. "We were built to protect them, you know."

V1 finally looks up, but it simply points a cold finger at V2. Of course. He was built to protect.

"Why did you repair me?" It was built to kill.

The V models are incapable of shrugging, but V1 does something similar enough. "DAMAGED." "Hm? What do you mean?"

V1 is clearly not comfortable speaking, but V2 has to know. He has to know the truth if they are going to end here. Or at least one of them will. This layer welcomed those who were willing to go to any lengths for a little personal victory. "REPAIR PROTOCOL. FAILED TO...SEPARATE."

V2 thinks for a few seconds. "Did you believe you were repairing yourself?" This wins him a thumbs up.

It was like tying a tie on someone else for the first time. The blue machine knew how to work on itself, but when the protocol kicked in under the pyramid in Greed, it found that the body is seen from an irregular angle. In the end, V1 resorted to holding the other machine to its chest to be able to work properly.

"But you know now that I'm not you, right?" Another thumbs up. V2 doesn't force the conversation further. He focuses on the ice instead. The written pages scattered all over the area don’t stop at the shore, partly or fully frozen like semi-aquatic plants during a harsh winter. The hole V1 made is rapidly freezing up, but something is still clearly visible at the bottom.

“Did you have a chance to see what that is?” Instead of an answer, V1 gives the fresh ice a good kick, splashing water all over the place.

“Hey, watch out! This can damage both of us! Especially your absorbent plating. It would be smarter to- What is that? Is that a fishing rod?! Where the Hell did you get that?” Its hands occupied, V1 nods. “What?!”

The thing they saw at the bottom is soon reeled to the surface. It is a book. Unfortunately, it immediately freezes as it is removed from the water; there’s no chance of opening it without destroying the paper. V1 doesn’t seem satisfied until it brings up half a dozen books, all acting the same way. It doesn’t give V2 much time to consider any implications or greater meaning the scene might have, heading deeper towards the middle.

“We should prepare for that fight thoroughly,” V2 warns. His predecessor doesn’t react. Its steps are light and it gently swings the fishing rod from side to side as it walks. Not for the first time today, V2 feels very lost. “If you’re not going to fight... What are you even looking for?”

Speech has never been so easy for V1 as it is in this moment. “FISH.”

#ultragift 2023 #ultragifts

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bengiyo · 11 months

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Be My Favorite Ep 10 Stray Thoughts

Last week, Kawi and Pisaeng started dating and Not immediately ruined it by making everything about him as always. Not outs them repeatedly and tries to use it as an in with Pear. He breaks things off with Kwan, who genuinely likes him, and gets his ass handed to him by Pear. Meanwhile, Kawi is spiraling that once again his mistakes are causing problems for others, and Pisaeng pushes Kawi to try to see life more optimistically and just try to take care of each other. Pear is having her own problems as she reckons with her mom finding success as an artist after leaving her family to pursue that art.

Hopefully we get Max back this week.

Love us coming back to Kawi and Pisaeng affirming their connection and Pear affirming that she and Not do NOT have one.

YES, MISS PEAR! COME THROUGH, SIS! She said, “Kwan is my friend and you are a dick. DICK IS ABUNDANT AND LOW IN VALUE!”

I want to say here that while I absolutely despise Not, I think Title is giving a great performance in this role. He’s very good at playing disaffected man who is also the source of his own problems.

Okay, this boy just put hands on Kwan. Let’s stomp his ass.

I’m with the dad on “The more you forgive, the stronger you get.” It’s so easy to burn yourself out in righteous rage. I was there for a long time early in the BLM movement, and all I succeeded in doing was giving myself a bunch of a stress-related health issues. The work I do now is about uplifting now and less about fighting. We talked about this on @the-conversation-pod in The Eighth Sense about how forgiveness isn’t about admitting the other party is right. It’s about accepting what happened, determining the boundaries you need to establish for the future, and then focusing on what’s important to you. Holding resentment traps you in the moment you were last offended. You become a living ghost.

Oh interesting. Kawi is reading Crazy Rich Asians.

They are crushing me with the fathers today. I’m going to need Tom Phollawat and Kob Songsit to get off my neck. In all seriousness, Kob is clearly ridiculously talented. Krist is responding to his emotions better than he has with anyone else in the series.

There is something so poignant about Kawi doing everything he could to try to save his dad, still losing him, but getting closure this time because he was able to say goodbye to his father before the surgery. I’m trying not to cry right now.

I love that the first people we see Pear interacting with after that talk with her dad are Pisaeng and Kawi. Love that she made sure to clear up any angst between them. It’s beautiful because the show says she has a right to be disappointed about how things went even as she commits to maintaining two important friendships. These boys are throwing themselves before Pear about who should be castigated more and I love that.

Yes, now that Pear has affirmed her support for gay love, let’s go hang out with the gays. Welcome back, Max. I’ve missed you. You look amazing as always. Love these boots.

I love Max. He’s correct. Just because we know what’s going on doesn’t mean we also don’t need to be told. Up until we’re told, we technically just suspect. Kawi is lucky to have community.

Before I engage with Pisaeng’s mom’s latest form of gaslighting, I need to know what show they’re watching on this projector in the background.

Sowing doubt into your son’s first real relationship is so cruel. Pisaeng knows exactly what she’s doing, and Gawin is playing his hurt and offense completely legibly.

I’m really loving the theme in this show that there is a difference between avoiding misery and finding happiness.

I do love seeing folks figure out the early parts of their relationships. Kawi doesn’t like Pisaeng avoiding his problems with his mom around him, especially when Pisaeng came to him for comfort. Now we get to see these two sort out how intimacy is going to work for them.

I’m never going to complain about parents turning things around and choosing to support their kids, but I don’t think I like Pisaeng faking a conflict with his mom in the hopes that Kawi will be intimate with him.

The mom’s smile is giving Gates McFadden at the end of Make the Yuletide Gay (2009).

I’m really enjoying the way Gawin plays Pisaeng as flirty or cheeky.

I’m obsessed with Max wearing this big black jacket but having these shorts He has such long legs that the juxtaposition fees intentional.

The Ace Friend and Gay Slut duo is undefeated. Kawi being on the ace spectrum doesn’t surprise me. I’m sure people are going to chide Max for how he spoke to Kawi, but I get Max. He’s a sexual being and it’s clear that some of his experiences weren’t great. There are things to unpack there. However, this show is about accepting people as they are and understanding where they’re coming from. We’re not aiming for perfection. We’re aiming for honesty and kindness. Kawi does need to consider the needs of his partner if he’s going to be in a long term relationship with someone who isn’t on the spectrum like him.

Oh, Kawi. Don’t pretend to sleep.

For a moment I really wondered if the snow globe would transport Pisaeng, but he’s already rejected magical help for his problems.

I’m really hoping this show does something interesting with the asymmetric sexual desire between Kawi and Pisaeng. We were here before during SOTUS and it’s hard not to recall that.

The amusement park thing is not subtle, and I’m not sure how to feel about it. Kawi has always wanted to visit a place full of excitement and thrill, but is here just to soak in the vibes and eat food. Pisaeng isn’t on that wavelength and is a bit frustrated.

Okay, so the preview seems to indicate that Pisaeng maybe did time travel. Unsure about how we went from a kinda botched date to their first sober kiss and implied first time.

I’m not sure where I sit on the sex stuff this episode. I think I’m going to leave myself in this moment of uncertainty until next week to see what we learn about Pisaeng’s potential time jump, and Kawi’s follow up on Max urging him to consider the role of sex and intimacy in romance.

#be my favorite #be my favorite meta #thai bl #bl series #Ben watches

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hitsuzenhusbands · 7 months

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hey! i hope you're having a good day! i just read your (amazing!) asoue fic "ashes to ashes," and i was fascinated by the way you portrayed kit and olaf. i thought i'd send this ask because i'd really love to hear more of your thoughts on their dynamic if you feel like sharing? but if you don't feel like expanding on it, i totally understand! thank you so much for sharing your beautiful work on ao3!

OHH anon you are so kind...i apologize for being so extremely late but i just finished writing a little analysis so i figured now's about the right time to write a semi-legible response. might have been scary and incomprehensible otherwise. but i am finally here to scream and cry and thank you so desperately because im SO happy you enjoyed them AND decided to ask for more info! <3

to begin, i'd be absolutely inconsolable if i didn't point you towards @virginian-wolfsnake's fic the eye of the storm, probably one of my fave k&o fics of all time that delves into the meat of their relationship through the years from the perspective of kit. they're young and still excited by missions and flirty and tender and genuine, and, in time, when the rest of their world collapses, so do they--messy and tense and so wonderfully realistic you have to read it and then read it again. honestly, if you don't want to read the rest of this but still want an answer, just read that. but also read it anyway

and now i have to ask you to forgive me...i have not read the books in a very long time and while i know the netflix series (in comparison) is bad and awful and terrible, i have watched it a million times. so if i'm wrong on anything. that's why.

to begin, the version of olaf i depicted in my fic is at the height of his...how do you say...pathetic misery. not including the spiral he has during the series. to me, the death of his parents are the beginning of his downfall into something-like-insanity, but he's still (and will continue to be) recognizably himself, if that makes sense. he's always been messy and emotional and dramatic (see the line: "...Kit has seen him in worse states and with a much better view..."), but only now does he reveal not a different side of himself per se, but a different angle of one that already existed.

im a fervent believer that olaf's always been a little self destructive and a lot crazy. hes spent the greater half of his life coming to terms with the fact that he is intrinsically not as noble as the rest of vfd--hes impulsive and obnoxious and self-obsessed, barely even literate at times--and it takes a special kind of guy to carve the insignia of the organization full of people he despises into his own front door. still, his parents' death was a catalyst, meaning he wasn't entirely opposed to vfd beforehand. he probably liked the missions and the secrecy and the dramatics, obviously the disguises and everything, but i think before the night at the opera it was really just a source of fun for him. he never truly grasped the reality of it, the nature of his actions and the weight of his involvement. whether that was out of naivety or pure neglect of the facts is up for debate. (there's a little bit of this in the shattering of thalia and melpomene if that interests you at all, beloved anon. see the line: "...[Esme] could never compare to the extent to which [Olaf] removes himself from everyone else entirely. How he spends so much time worrying about himself he almost forgets to worry about himself...Esme could never truly get lost in her own greatness. Could never turn a blind eye to the inner workings of V.F.D.")

kit, on the other hand, definitely did. serving as a volunteer was her purpose, the sole thing she had to cling to. she dedicated her life to it, making conscious decisions to go against her moral code in the hope that it all truly was for a greater good. i think, at times, she could fall into her own little fits of self-destruction, putting vfd above herself entirely (see the line: "This wouldn’t be the first time she’d done something she would never truly volunteer for...he’d still spent year after year watching her run off...to do something she could never speak of." "...she still returned with clenched teeth and knit eyebrows, as though she had no choice in the matter at all.")

to avoid any more convolution, in my mind it goes something like this: both are volunteers--olaf born and raised (along with beatrice), kit torn from her family and thrust into the thick of it so early on its all she knows. they grow up, probably-definitely know each other but dont know each other until, say, late teens-early twenties?

up until then, they've been everything previously described, but intermingling with one another changes this. olaf's easygoing approach rubs off on kit, partly because she finds more joy in his company than in missions, partly because he makes every attempt to keep her from leaving. i like to think she tries to keep his relatively flimsy moral code in check, or at the very least restrain his temper to the best of her abilities.

to me, they're a simultaneously great and terrible couple. at their best, they counteract each other in a positive way as described above and serve as a welcome distraction from the realities of a crumbling vfd, a little island of tenderness and domesticity in the ocean of turmoil that surrounds them.

and at their worst, their personalities combat so violently it's hard to see how they ever could have been together. olaf deals out the worst of it, prone to neglect and self-isolation, a deeply inset refusal to discuss anything with her, an inclination towards firestarting and an increasingly poor reputation with everyone kit knows. then again, kit isn't free of blame (if you can call it that), she's just as opposed to talking anything out as he is, and her isolation takes on the shape of running off to do as many missions as as she can before she's dead on her feet. she's pulled in different directions--a well-instilled hatred towards firestarers, only further influenced by whatever rumours olaf's growing list of enemies supplies her, versus her love for him, her knowledge of who he really is, a concept that is often tested. (see the line: "He’s reminded of a fight they once had, about something or other, that ended in her angry admission that it was easier to be upset with him when he wasn’t nearby.")

anyway, the idea is they grow further and further apart both ideologically and physically/relationship-wise until the opera night and the crash following that (see: the whole fic!) and from then on i think they fall into something like an evil situationship. they barely see each other, complete opposite sides of the schism. i say situationship because i think when they do see each other (on missions, at events/in public, in private, etc.) it is just a terrible experience no matter what. they're both torn between hating the other for what they know about them/what they did (i like to think olaf finds out about kit supplying the darts) and reminiscing/yearning for what they once had.

for the sake of this i wont give my thoughts on whose baby kit has because that's a whole other thing (not really. its just more of a fun hc i think about on occasion as opposed to something concrete in canon or even my version of canon) but their scene in the end does make me insane. its a culmination of all the time spent wishing what happened didnt happen, almost as though theyre seeing each other for the first time once again, perhaps not blind to the past but looking away for (on olafs part) one final moment of normalcy.

i hope thats what you were looking for to any degree, anon. im a little rusty on my lore but they matter to me soo much. if i have to leave this on anything, its go read eye of the storm. kitlaf fic of all time.

#im so sorry this took approximately one million years #i hope it suffices anon...#also i hope its ok to tag u out of the blue my wonderful mutual #that fic is so good....makes me crazy everytime i think abt it #asoue #a series of unfortunate events #count olaf #kit snicket #kitlaf #answered asks #analysis #fic posting

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rottingmanifesto · 5 months

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16 or 36 for anything you feel like writing currently! :D

Trying out some different formats. Hope it’s legible. Fair warning that I got way too carried away with ‘total control’, so it’s under a cut.

16. in dreams

Journal, Lincoln, 1st person.

Keep havin’ weird dreams. Can’t explain them very well, all I know is I keep scaring the hell outta a few of the guys when I jolt up. Davis suggested I see the Chaplain ‘bout it. Pretty sure it’s not demons, so unless he’s got holy-water-melatonin, I don’t think he can help.

One of the dreams is about Danny and Nicki arguin’ over their old man’s body. Cancer or poisoning or something of the like. Not sure why I’m there at all, I just am. Both keep beggin’ me for an answer. I can’t. Someone’s cut out my tongue and noises don’t help. He’s dead, they’re arguing, I can’t do anythin’.

Father said something offhandedly in a letter about my nightmares being chronic. Happened when I was a kid, stopped for whatever reason, an’ now they’re back. Never told him I was having any, but that’s Father for you. He jus’ knows things. Didn’t tell Sammy or Ellis though, both seem to think I’m fine. Not sayin’ I’m not. Just don’t think it’s worth tellin’ them, worryin’ them over stupid shit like dreams. Got bigger issues than that.

36. total control

Script-ish, John and Connor, 3rd person.

J: You were supposed to die.

A: Yeah, firing squad. I remember. Hard to forget.

J: Would’ve preferred a hanging, actually.

A: Didn’t know the United States still used that method.

J: I’m sure they’d make an exception.

A: (mild discomforting laugh) Of course they would.

J: (faltering, lowering gun, searching for words)

A: Maybe you should set the gun down. Your hand’s twitching. Don’t want a misfire.

J: Shut the fuck up.

A: What, I can’t look out for you? What happens if you twitch and kill that friend of yours out there?

J: Don’t bring him into this.

A: Lincoln, right? Hear he’s taking after you very well. Brazen and theatrical.

J: Yes, because you’re a master at subtlety.

A: Comes with the job.

J: Jesus Chr—a fucking warhead isn’t subtle.

A: Neither is hanging a man from a Ferris wheel. Or, you know, (signaling to cheek with J’s given-cigarette) this.

J: That was self-defense.

A: Sure. Of course.

J: Can you just go one fucking sentence without being an asshole, or is that above you?

A: Give me a reason to, and I will.

J: I have a gun and you don’t.

A: That’s not enough, Johnny, and you know that.

J: Don’t call me that.

A: Sorry, I’m delirious from the blood loss. I thought you were that kid I helped so many years ago. He looked an awful lot like you, too. (painful cough, takes a drag to cover up whatever expression he has on his face) Forgive me, Mr. Donovan.

J: You know, I used to believe in you back then. (voice breaks, begins to pace, having his back to A) Thought you represented everything great about this country.

A: Don’t I still?

J: You don’t. You’re just as fucking greedy and selfish as everyone else. (wheels around to face A, pointing a quivering gun between his eyes)

A: Exactly. That’s the real America. The one that doesn’t care about drafted soldiers drowning in mud, or those who come back seeing shit and knowing they fundamentally aren’t right anymore. The one that doesn’t care about people like your friend out there. The one that would sooner hang you for being a homosexual than me for being a so-called “traitor”.

J: So you’re justified with selling a goddamn nuke, is that what you’re saying?

A: (still fucking smiling) Your comprehension has improved some. Congratulations.

J: (crouches down to be eye-level) So the money was just to sweeten the deal, huh? To ease your conscious— (he presses his hand into A’s wound as harshly as possible, causing A to jolt in pain)— when innocent people inevitably fucking die?

A: We both know I won’t be the last person to do so. If it isn’t the NVA, it’ll be someone else. It’ll keep going until the United States is destroyed.

J: (begins to pace again, silent, blinking hard to avoid tears)

A: I was going to end it, John. I was going to make everyone free from this bullshit. Including you. Including your friend. Including everyone else who is subject to America’s tyranny. I was going to do what you’re too cowardly to do! I was going to end it all!

J: (whips around sharply) Are you finished?

A: (panting, out of energy, the pain finally overcoming the adrenaline and pride, he realizes he’s no longer in total control.)

A: It appears so.

#mafia 3 #john donovan #connor aldridge #lincoln clay #my writing #I’m not insanely happy with this but I wrote and that’s what matters #oh yay I can edit tags now so edit: I’m probably gonna delete this later

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bazzybelle · 8 months

Text

You Got Me Tripping on Sunshine - 3K - Teen - Calliope/Johanna Constantine

For Sandman FemSlash Weekend - Day 2: Meet-Cute

Yay! Another Fic done for the @sandmanfemslashfans !

The couple I've chosen to write for this time are Calliope and Johanna! Another popular Sandman couple!

This is completely unbetaed and was done in a bit of a rush... So forgive any errors on my part. I did the best I could to make it as neat and legible as possible.

The title of the fic was inspired by the song "Running on Sunshine" by Jesus Jackson.

You can read the story by clicking the link, or by clicking the Keep Reading bar below.

Click here for the Story on AO3

Johanna Constantine is not a wedding person. She never was. Not when she was a young girl, and her grandmother insisted she dress up in pretty pink clothes because so-and-so’s aunt or other was getting hitched and the Constantine family was always expected to be there.

No matter that the family had fallen on hard times ever since great-great-great grandfather Stephan made several unwise investments during the early 1800s. Johanna, even then, was wise enough to understand that weddings were only useful as a way for snobby fucks to prance about, gossiping and criticizing.

“Auntie Jo?”

Johanna glances to her right, and sees the main reason she’s even here. Well, and the fact that one of the grooms is her best friend (despite her repeated attempts to dissuade the man from associating with her), and the father of the child currently tugging on her deep navy pantsuit (the only way she’d even agreed to being Hob’s Mate of Honour was if she could wear a pantsuit). She had to yell at Hob to allow her to make sure Robyn was taken care of so that he could enjoy the day with his husband. Hob had wanted to keep Robyn with him all day, which would not have been fun for either of them.

Plus she loves spending time with her unofficial godchild. They’re one of the few children Johanna can stand being around for more than 5 minutes.

Little Robyn is beaming up at her, also dressed in dark navy, they’ve chosen to wear a long, elegant dress. Their long, brown hair is done in curls with several blue and white flowers pinned around the crown of their head. Ever since they’ve started wearing dresses and keeping their hair long, it’s like Robyn’s a new child. They’re smiling more and laughing and so incredibly affectionate.

“Yes, my darling?” she responds, bending down to her favourite nibling.

“Are Daddy and Papa finished yet? I’m hungry.”

Unsurprising. She and the rest of the wedding party (by that, just Morpheus’ sister, Teleute) were done with their photographs hours ago. She had stuck around and waited while Robyn and Morpheus’ son took some pictures with the love-struck couple. It was all very sweet and wholesome, and if Johanna was the same person she was five years ago, she would have gagged at the display.

But she isn’t, and she blames Hob and Robyn for that. She’d initially met Hob through her good friend, Eleanor. She’d fallen in love with this ridiculous, dork of a man, but he was kind and had a good heart. It didn’t take long for Jo to accept Hob into her very miniscule circle of friends. Her circle only grew with the addition of Robyn, and the promise of a new baby when Eleanor got pregnant a second time.

Or, at least it should have grown. But pregnancy is rough and complications happen and—

Hob was a mess when he lost Eleanor. Robyn was a screaming toddler, crying for his mummy, and Hob didn’t know what to do. So Jo pitched in, and made sure they had an extra set of hands. Hob will always tell her that she’d saved them, but the truth is, they saved her. If she’d been left to her own devices after El died, she would have ended up dead drunk in some alley.

Eventually Hob and Robyn learned to find peace in each other, and it wasn’t too long afterwards that Hob found love again. Jo was the first person he told when he first met Morpheus, and then when he asked him out, and once more when he was thinking about proposing.

And so, her circle of influence threatened to expand even more with the inclusion of Morpheus and his own child.

Which leads to today, and a hungry six year old. Lord knows with Hob and Morpheus, they might have snuck away from their photographers for some privacy. God, she hopes not. Like Robyn, she’s also getting rather hungry, and the hor d’oeuvres aren’t very filling. She has half a mind to sneak into the New Inn’s kitchen and grab some food for herself.

Now there was an idea. If anyone asks, she could say that she’s just making sure the groom’s child is being taken care of properly. And part of her duty is to make sure Robyn’s well fed.

(And if that meant she’d have to sneak in a few bites of food herself, well who was she to say no to that?)

“We can’t have that, now can we? D’you think your daddy will mind if we pop back into the kitchens to see if the caterers will give us a bite?”

“Daddy says I can’t go back there without an adult. He says it’s dangerous.”

“Oi, and what am I, chopped liver? I’m plenty adult, thank you very much.” Johanna takes their small hand in hers. Robyn giggles, leading Johanna through the small crowd of people already gathered at The New Inn, waiting for the happily married couple to arrive.

“Where’s your partner in crime?”

Robyn shrugs, “Orpheus is probably with his mamma.”

Oh yes, Jo had heard a lot about the mysterious former Mrs. Athanasiou (although apparently since the divorce, she’d gone back to her maiden name). She’d never met the woman, but from what Hob had told her, she was one of those pretty, delicate little things that came from a long line of wealth and prestige. The type of person that Hob’s posh husband would have gotten saddled with.

Was she being slightly unfair? Probably. Hob hadn’t explicitly used the words “pretty, delicate little thing” to describe her, but he did say she came from a posh family and was pretty well off.

The rest came from Johanna’s own assumptions.

And from doing a background check on the woman. Look, it was her job as Robyn’s auntie and unofficial godmother to make sure that the people in his life were not of the shady sort (and she loves Hob, but the man can be far too trusting of other humans). She did one on Morpheus when Hob first told her about him. Not that she really needed to. As soon as she heard the Athanasiou last name, she knew exactly who he was. That family was well known to her grandmamma, and she spoke of them often. The third born, Morpheus, was a famous composer and songwriter back in Greece. With money like that family had, he could afford to do whatever he wished.

As for Calliope, she was another child of some powerful Greek family, who became a well known singer. One who preferred to perform Morpheus’ compositions. Apparently the two had been a power couple back in Greece, until the birth of their son. Johanna hadn’t bothered to read about the messy divorce. It frankly wasn’t any of her business.

She did meet Morpheus’ son, Orpheus (interesting name for a child, if you asked her). He’s a very sweet child, even if he’s got the air of someone raised by an extremely well-to-do family. Not that he was spoiled, but as young as he was, Johanna got the sense that he knew that he was meant for some wild destiny. She understood how that felt, being a Constantine.

A few of the caterers know Robyn as soon as they step inside the kitchen and are all too excited to give them some food. Robyn, like the Gadling they are, makes sure that Johanna gets some food as well. It isn’t much, a few pieces of chicken souvlaki, and some pita bread. Just enough to tide the two of them over until the grooms arrive.

Robyn’s hair is starting to become a little undone from the excitement so far. The flowers are becoming loose, and the thin braided crown around their head is starting to look messy. She imagines a bunch of Hob’s other friends and co-workers have all been giving Robyn hugs and cooing over how lovely they look. Johanna did the best she could with Robyn’s hair that morning, but she isn’t really good at this sort of thing. Maybe they should sneak back upstairs to the flat Hob shares with Dream to see if she can salvage anything.

Then again, is it really worth it with a rambunctious six year old?

“Robyn! There you are!”

It seems that the elusive Orpheus has found his way to the kitchen. Johanna smiles and waves to Robyn’s new step-brother. Robyn runs to Orpheus and the two children wrap their arms tight around each other. It’s nice, Johanna thinks, that Robyn gets to have a sibling they deeply love. A sibling, according to Hob, who has already begun to defend Robyn’s choices in how they wish to present themselves.

Clearly this child is better than most of the adults living in London.

“Orpheus? Pou eisai, agapi mou? ” a woman calls out in Greek. Johanna’s knowledge of the language is non-existant, but she imagines this must be Calliope, asking after her son.

“ Edo einai, mamma ” calls out Orpheus.

A woman enters the kitchen, and greets the catering staff with a smile on her face. Now, Johanna has seen photos of Calliope Vandi in her research, but photos will never do someone justice when faced with the actual person.

Calliope is, to put it in polite terms, bloody fucking gorgeous. She’s tall, and carries herself like a queen in her realm. Her long, chestnut hair is done up in elaborate braids that would make Daenerys Targaryan jealous. Strategic curls spill down her back, nearly covering her backless rose gold gown.

Johanna quickly dusts herself off —no doubt having had crumbs spill onto her own suit— and tries to tidy herself as best as she can. She has always been a fucking disaster when it came to a pretty girl with a sweet smile.

And Calliope has just that. She finds her son and gives a warm, kind smile to both him and Robyn.

“Hello, Robyn,” she says, a musical lilt to her voice.

Robyn smiles, and offers a tiny hand to Calliope. “Hello, Ms. Calliope. Ti kaneis? ”

Calliope gasps, her smile growing. “Robyn, have you been learning Greek?”

Robyn beams at her. “Orpheus has been teaching me!”

“Mamma, I’ve been teaching Robyn the alphabet and some phrases. They were so excited to show you.”

Calliope kneels down to Robyn’s level, her elegant dress carefully pooling around her. “Well, Robyn, your Greek is fantastic. And to answer your question, kala . How are you?”

Robyn blushes, tugging at their left ear (a habit they’ve acquired from their father no doubt). “ Kala ,” they say.

“I am so happy to hear that.” Calliope gently brushes some of the hair off of Robyn’s face. “You look very lovely today. I love your dress, and your hair is very pretty.”

Robyn giggles, doing a little twirl to show off their fluffy dress. “Thank you. Auntie Jo did my hair, but she was complaining the whole time.”

“ Oi! Have some respect for your elders, you little bug.” Robyn laughs at the use of Johanna’s pet name for them. Little shit is what they are, calling her out in front of the beautiful lady.

Weren’t adorable children supposed to help you look more attractive to other people? Leave it Hob’s kid to know exactly what to say to make Jo look like a complete idiot.

Thankfully, Calliope doesn’t seem to take too much stock in what Robyn’s said. She stands up —ridiculously graceful, of fucking course— and approaches Johanna, slender hand held out.

“You must be Ms. Constantine,” she says, embracing the name Constantine the way it was meant to be said, the Greek in her accent showing it all the love and care.

“Johanna, please,” she says, taking Calliope’s hand and giving it a strong shake. She almost wants to lift it to her lips and plant a small kiss.

And that makes her want to find the nearest bathroom in order to slap herself silly.

For fuck’s sake, Jo. Don’t forget, she’s one of those high class posh sort .

“It is lovely to meet you, Johanna. Orpheus has told me much about you.”

“Oh? Has he now?” Johanna looks over to Calliope’s shoulder to see Orpheus and Robyn in quiet discussion, sharing food between the two of them.

“He has told me that you’ve taught him some rather interesting phrases for him to use.”

Crap . She was hoping that wasn’t what Orpheus had brought back to his mother. Then again, children do tend to hold onto curse words quicker than any other phrase, so she shouldn’t be surprised at all.

There was an incident at a park several months ago. Jo had brought the kids to a nearby playground while Hob and Morpheus were doing some sort of important wedding planning nonsense. It was no big deal, but some of the other kids were giving Robyn a difficult time. Jo had gone to break things up before they got too heated, when some of the parents got involved, all too happy to tell Jo how wrong they thought Hob was to “indulge Robyn like this' ' and that he should make his kid “act normal' '. Jo was happy enough to ignore the stupidity and ignorance, and take the kids home.

But then one of them brought up Eleanor, and said that Robyn was only the way they were because Eleanor wasn’t around.

And Jo just lost it.

She didn’t remember exactly what her words were, but she definitely had several choice expletives she used. Of course Orpheus remembered each and every one and took them to his father. Morpheus, while happy that Jo had stood up for Robyn, was a little concerned that his son now knew phrases like “bigoted, useless prick” and that the “gormless nitwits” needed to “fuck right off”.

She sighs, rubbing her eyes before remembering the makeup she’d spent nearly an hour putting on this morning.

“ Fuck — No, I mean— Ah, piss it. Look, I’m sorry about that—”

Calliope lifts up a hand. “It is alright. Orpheus told me what had happened at the playground. How some of the older children were picking on Robyn, and how their ‘brave Auntie Jo’ yelled at the mean adults.”

Jo scoffs. Well, that’s a relief. Good to know she won’t be barred from the Gadling-Athansiou household after today. She doesn’t regret anything she said (she rarely ever does), and would do it again and again. She doesn’t think she’s very brave. Being a decent person isn’t a brave thing to be. Loving a child unconditionally isn’t a brave thing to do.

It’s one of the easiest things she’s ever done.

“Yeah well, come after my little bug, and we’re going to have words.”

“We certainly have that in common. There is nothing I would not do for my Orpheus.” She glances at the two step-siblings giggling together, completely lost and innocent in the way that only children know how to be. “I think now, that includes Robyn too.”

Calliope looks back to Johanna, and it’s at this moment where Johanna notices a fire in her eyes. For being a delicate, little thing, Calliope might be a whole lot tougher than she’d initially given her credit for.

“I’ll gladly do the same for Orpheus, should the situation call for it.”

“I am happy to hear that, Johanna.” She steps closer to her —a fresh scent of gardenia and bergamot surrounding her— and whispers conspiratorially in her ear “I’d even be happy to teach you some insults in Greek if you like. We have quite a colourful selection to choose from.”

Johanna turns to her, a smirk on her face, “Tough, pretty, and knows her way around a powerful curse. I like that in a woman.”

Calliope smiles, reaching up to Jo’s suit jacket to adjust the collar slightly (bloody hell, she knew it was messed up). “Brave, strong, and knows her way around a powerful suit. I like that in a woman.”

Well , this wedding certainly got more interesting. Jo spares one last glance at Robyn and Orpheus, before leaning closer into Calliope’s space, her cheek just brushing hers.

“You know, apparently there isn’t assigned seating,” Jo whispers softly in Calliope’s ear.

Calliope’s eyes (Jesus, they’re pretty) (all big and brown and warm) brighten. “So I have heard.”

“Hmm. It would be silly to separate the little monsters, I think. They look so happy together, and there aren’t other kids around. They’d be so bored, otherwise.”

“That would be rather unnecessary, I think.”

“So, I propose, we all sit together. That way, we make sure Robyn and Orpheus aren’t separated,” Jo trails a pinky over Calliope’s thin wrist, a small move she does whenever she’s interested in someone. It’s important to start with slow, enticing movements, and not to rush too quickly into things.

Calliope, it turns out, appreciates Jo’s flirtations, because she responds by dragging her thumb over her collarbone. “I believe that is an inspired idea, Johanna Constantine.”

Fuck , the way she says her name will have her ruined by the end of the night. Sassy, little minx that she is probably knows it too.

“Auntie Jo!” Robyn calls out to her, interrupting what was clearly her laying down her A-Game (would Hob be upset with her if she called his spawn a cock-block) (what is the female equivalent anyway?) (She’s heard people use clam-jam and twat-swat, but even she has her filthy limits).

“Yes, you impossible little demon?” she says.

Robyn waves her mobile in the air (when the fuck did they swipe that from her?). “Daddy just texted you, and I’m not supposed to read your messages because you use too many swear words.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” she mutters, to Calliope’s amusement. If Hob’s messaged her, it means the love birds are finally finished their photo session. Which means it’s time to wrangle the hell-spawns and get them seated and ready for supper.

Johanna turns to Calliope and holds her arm out.

“Well, shall we head out then?”

Calliope places her hand in the crook of Jo’s elbow, “I would love to.” They collect the children and head back into the inn, where the rest of the reception eagerly awaits the arrival of the happily married couple.

Johanna Constantine is not a wedding person. She never was. But, with a pretty woman on her arm and the promise of a night of shameless flirting, she could learn to be one.

#my writing #sandman femslash weekend #johanna constantine #calliope #orpheus #robyn gadling #cute wedding flirtation #nonbinary character #the sandman

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transmutationisms · 1 year

Note

I apologize if there's something already on your blog about this and I didn't find it, but I was watching tailgate party and realized that Shiv had spent the entire episode pacing around one apartment complex 6000 steps over and that the Roys do this a lot.

My memory of the last few seasons is fuzzy (<- binged it before and now doesn't remember shit) but I feel like the Roys spend a lot of time in very large, usually open spaces, with wide walls and tall ceilings, and usually ones we've seen before or are expected to see again and that a lot of important scenes happen *outside* of these spaces. Important meaning either big moments or iconic ones or sometimes just transitonary. Kendall had his Next-Jesus moment out in the ocean, Tom started throwing water bottles in that cramped ass escape room or talked about his marriage out on the beach, the entirety of Kill List happens outside of ATN offices, Logan meets Mattson for the first time on a personal island, Roman went to a random one story office environment for a fucking business school and was never the same character (well. compared to S1 Roman) again, they have that reverse Jesus thing over cruises on a cruise ship, etc. I feel like plane scenes could both fit into this or break it depending on the season but at least for other scenes I feel like there's a pattern here.

Outdoor spaces or parts where they actually put their shoes outside onto sidewalk always feel semi important to me but it doesn't even have to be outdoors specifically. Like, even just the honeymoon suite was different enough from every other building we'd seen the show have, and that's when Shiv admitted to cheating!

Do you think there's something to this, or do you have your own thoughts? I'd be interested to hear more if only to appeal to my ego ;-). There's other things that could connect to this like the grey-white-brown-dark blue color palette damn near every scene is in vs. scenes with real color inside of them and Kendall's asking why Sophie was "on the street" being indicative of how he thinks she should be raised (based on how he was raised and also how he can recognize the manipulation and abusive inherent to his father's parenting but not the more subtle isolation and neglect) and the fact the Roys are literally running an actual rat race while trapped inside Waystair Rocyo 1/2 the time but I have to stay focused on one thing when I write shit down even if I'm connecting dots in my head or else this ask won't even be remotely legible.

[If you already wrote about this - sorry! I hope this makes sense. Either way, have a good night, and fingers crossed something fun happens at Logan's funeral. I still want Tom to fight someone. It won't happen but it'd be funny as hell lol]

yeah i haven't really written anything comprehensive on this, but i do think there are a few interesting points with regards to how the show uses the characters' environments. forgive me for bullet-pointing lol, maybe you can help string these things together into something more cohesive. but:

yes, the characters often spend most of an episode trapped in one location, even one building. in part i think this is a function of the presence of playwrights on the writing staff, and the way many episodes flirt with the three classical unities of tragedy writing (time / place / action). so, lots of episodes are 1 day only, or 2 or 3 max, and often a character will be mostly confined to one location during that span. in part this helps make each individual episode really tight internally, but it also contributes to that persistent sense that the characters are trapped (within their circumstances, company, family, etc)

indoor vs outdoor is an interesting thread. one thing that has always stood out to me is that the show has a tendency to use natural sunlight not as refreshing, enlightening, etc, but as blinding, overwhelming, and even dangerous. the sun almost kills logan in s3, there are those shots in 2x10 and 3x09 where everyone's squinting in the bright light, there's a similar effect in 'austerlitz', etc. this contributed to the overall sense of discomfort that the roys experience, despite all their material luxuries; it also contributes to the sense that nature and the natural world is an alien, external force that appears threatening—this sense also comes out in all of the animal metaphors they use, which emphasise the brutality they see in the animal kingdom and in nature generally

if we're talking places, i also must bring up the presence of bathrooms on the show. these are quotidian rooms, but also dangerous ones, in the sense that they exist to purge a civilised society of its filth, and the whole process tends to be marginalised and wilfuly ignored. so, i've always liked that succession has a lot of scenes set in bathrooms, and often characters are able to speak differently in the bathroom—sometimes more intimate (kendall and stewy, tom and logan in 3x05), or more direct (greg and logan in 2x08), or they're allowed to say things they couldn't elsewhere (roman and mencken). bathrooms are also sheltered personal spaces, where the characters can retreat and hide (kendall using them to do coke, shiv practicing a smile in 1x02, greg rehearsing his congressional testimony)

the waystar offices obviously have that very 21st-century glass-and-steel aesthetic that telegraphs new money, a certain neoliberal attempt at severance from systems of social and cultural meaning-making, etc. so, moving the characters to other locations is effective because, in contrast to the kind of soullessness of the waystar building, it makes the other places stand out and emphasises the meaning we can glean from the sets alone (like, the gut-punch of dodds's house in contrast to the sort of corporate default)

in regards to the idea of control and confinement within luxe spaces—yes, this is clearly something we see many of the environments convey (the ultimate expression of this being the anti-suicide wall that logan puts up to pen kendall in). this is really a discrete material expression of how waystar operates in a broader sense, constraining people whilst appearing to create more options and more freedom (also a basic characteristic of neoliberal modes of production, lol)

again i'm not sure i have a thesis statement here unifying all of these observations lol. but i do think the show does well at using its environments and settings to tell us a lot about the characters, the company, and the broader world they inhabit.

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blackjackkent · 4 months

Text

The Hag Survivors Support Group building is locked, and there's a note in the mailbox:

The door's not hard to pick, so in we go.

Hector immediately perception-checks a note on the table inside.

Hm. I think we missed the meeting. Although apparently they pissed off a hag themselves, so maybe that's a good thing.

The only other things in the building are a number of leftover flyers and a "Barely-Legible Letter":

Old Garlow's, it seems, is not far off - just on the other side of the central wall, so we'll just wander straight over there while it's on our minds. Cos based on our experience with Ethel, if these people have pissed off a hag, they're gonna need our help.

The building has definitely seen better days; there's a note in the mailbox indicating it's been condemned. In we go once again.

("Nothing but DOOM AND GLOOM in the Gazette since Gortash died!" complains a woman wandering by while we pick the lock. Well, ma'am, get ready for the front page story about THE CUTEST CAT YOU'VE EVER SEEN when it comes out tomorrow. It's gonna knock your socks off.)

Stepping inside the building, we can immediately hear some members of the support group on the ground floor talking... and a very ominous giggling laugh from upstairs.

The woman at the head of the group - a cleric of Helm, based on her ambient dialogue - immediately rounds on Hector and his companions as they approach. "An intruder?" she snaps. "These people are under my protection. I'll not let you harm them! Hearken to my words, wicked creature. Return to the pit of evil from whence you came!"

The dragonborn in the back has the wildest head design and I love it. So round and smooth!

Oh, shit, no, we're not the hag, calm down.

Hector IMMEDIATELY likes this woman. :D

"Calm down! I seek no trouble!" he says, spreading his hands in a placating gesture.

"Don't listen! Who knows what spells it weaves around us! Quickly, cleric!"

"Helm! Protecter of all! Grant me the power to ignite this creature's flesh and burn its bones to ash! Begone, monster, your hag mother holds no power here!"

Oh, she's fantastic. Can we bring her with us?

[CLERIC][PERSUASION] "Wait--" Hector says hastily. "I'm no hagspawn - I'm a faithful adherent, just like you."

"Wait - no hagspawn would speak like that." The woman's shoulders relax and her hand falls back to her side; she looks visibly relieved. "Forgive the paranoia. We're being hunted by a vile and wicked hag. We feared you her minion. She's already hexed one of us - and any of us could be next."

(A/N: Jaheira looks SO SHORT compared to the party of behemoths she's traveling with. XD )

"I've fought a hag before," Hector says gravely. "No easy task."

It's odd to think back on that time, so early in their adventures. He was much more afraid then, he reflects absently. He was a different man. He's still afraid now, of course, but of much bigger, much more terrifying things. Ethel feels like a distant memory, a monster fought in a dream.

Hope flashes through the young woman's eyes. "Really? You should join us, then. You see, all of us here have fallen victim to a hag's vicious ways. But instead of succumbing to despair, we rose above it. Thanks to Mayrina, our leader. Together, we've been helping others who've suffered at the claws of a hag. Only... Mayrina's been hexed by the very hag who now hunts us."

Oh, no way. :O

"Mayrina?" Hector says, startled. "I know her! She was captured by Auntie Ethel!"

"You're the one that saved her? The one that ventured to the depths of Ethel's lair?" The cleric looks him up and down in puzzlement. "I can hardly believe it. You look so... normal."

(A/N: That's one of the nicest comments on his appearance that Hector has ever received tbh.)

She gestures towards the building's stairs. "By Helm, perhaps there is hope. If anyone can help Mayrina, it's you. She's upstairs... but be warned, she's not as you remember her."

...Well, that sounds ominous. HECTOR TO THE RESCUE!

#bjk plays baldur's gate 3 #hector carlisle #hector would have made a good follower of helm too i think

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kkgore · 1 year

Text

Book Review for: In the Lives of Puppets

By: TJ Klune

Setting

This book takes place in a world of robots. We are introduced first to Giovanni, who has built himself a tree-house settlement deep in the woods, and there he lives with two other robots, Nurse Ratchet and Rambo, and his human son Victor. The fairytale-esque opening gives us a good overview of a world where humans are both rare and facing some sort of persecution, and a sense of the threat that the wider world may pose to this family. I found the setting instantly legible and explicable. It had a logic to it that made it both exciting and yet pleasantly predictable. That logic was coherent throughout the novel, and so there was never any moment where I felt like I truly did not understand this world or where it was taking me, and as such I was eager to carry on with the journey.

Plot

The plot takes liberally from the most prominent plot points of the Pinocchio story, as well as some seasoning from Shelly’s Frankenstein. The plot follows a fairly typical hero’s journey model, with a couple of twists which are in no way obtuse and more a revelation of a building suspicion than an actual twist. On the whole I really enjoyed how Klune managed to hit all the major allegories with Pinocchio, although some seemed a bit on the nose. The Monstro-Whale/Terrible Dogfish-Dirigible analogy was there but felt more wedged in than placed with consideration, unlike the tension within Victor, who at various times takes on the role of both Geppetto and Pinocchio, Victor Frankenstein and his Creation in ways that are skilfully woven into the plot of his journey.

My main problem with the plot is that it follows a trend in storytelling where the Hero makes large, world changing decisions on the behalf of whole nations or races and then… dips. Just leaves, and we get no more than a few lines where he hopes that the revolution has turned out well but no actual insight into what this post-revolutionary world is going to look like or how it is going to be built. There is some thematic justification to this decision in this book, it parallels decisions Vic’s father made at the beginning of the tale, but I still find it somewhat unsatisfying that in a book about how everyone deserves to be fixed in the end we only really care about two specific people being fixed and everyone else is on their own.

World Building

The world building in this novel is done organically and in a way that consistently adds to the feelings of foreboding that Klune skilfully builds throughout the novel. Klune is also very good at using his worldbuilding as an opportunity to draw parallels with, and make commentary on, our current culture. The Coachman, who runs a Museum of Human Curio’s and Curiosities, tells the Hero and his companions of the ancient human tradition of gender reveals. His utter misinterpretation of both the form and the function of gender reveal parties is a wonderful way not only to make a commentary on how history gets distorted by the victors in a conflict, but also to expose the artifice that lies in the gender reveal party as a concept.

The worldbuilding in this novel was not necessarily new, we have seen similar worlds in many sci-fi films and books such as Robots (2005) but the whimsy and charm with which it is built makes this an inviting world to spend time in.

The worldbuilding also felt purposeful, particularly when done through conversation between the characters. As we learned more about the world, we also learned more about the main thesis of the book; that everyone deserves a chance of redemption. Again, it’s not so much that Klune does anything new with the worldbuilding, but that he uses the worldbuilding as a way to talk very directly about the morality of the story, and to engage in meaningful meditation on the nature of humanity and forgiveness and individuality and so on.

Characters

The characters are the real highlight of this book. It is incredibly character driven, and it is delightful how Klune treats each character with a tenderness and empathy that is deeply compassionate towards their flaws without ever excusing them. All of the robots can be read as representative of some form of disability or neuroatypicality, and Victor is quite clearly meant to be understood as autistic. I felt this worked well, particularly as an overarching analogy for how disability is context dependant and how often the experience of disability is more to do with how society lacks accommodations necessary for a life fully lived, than it is to do with the material fact of the disability itself. I also think this worked well as a way to explore how individuals can work to maintain healthy relationship despite conflicting needs.

The dynamic between Nurse Ratched and Rambo reminds me a lot of the dynamic between Scamper and Brian in Igor (2008), and I found the way they both bounced off of each other delightful. They were a wonderful example of a relationship that is fully accepting of the other, warts and all. The fierce loyalty between these two and Victor was a strong theme throughout the novel, which worked well as a supporting thesis for the main themes of forgiveness and redemption. Ratched was well placed as a nurse droid to explain concepts like asexuality in a dispassionate manner.

That said, I did find towards the end that Ratched and Rambo’s continual conjecture of the nature of the relationship between Vic, who is canonically both asexual and somewhat sex repulsed, and Hap to become more and more uncomfortable as it became clear that this aspect of their behaviour was never going to fully be addressed. I had hoped that there would be some sort of commentary on the intrusive and voyeuristic nature of looking at real relationships through the lens of “shipping” but we didn’t really get any thing in regard to a resolution of the conflict there.

Hap is an interesting take on the Creature from Frankenstein. It is lovely to see what might have happened if the Modern Prometheus had been met with love and admiration rather than fear and shame. I really appreciate that Hap is allowed to still be a generally grumpy person, right through to the end of the novel, and that this is seen as a character expression, rather than a character flaw.

Vic and Hap have a very tender relationship, which is a joy to watch develop.

Vic himself is a thoroughly enjoyable hero to read. He grapples with deep emotional and ethical questions which are hard to resolve, without ever tipping over into either self-pitying or self-aggrandising. His reactions feel very natural and his motivations and insights are intelligent.

The supporting cast of Gio, Vic’s father, The Coachman and The Blue Fairy are all well drawn characters whose conversations with Vic offer some very poignant and insightful meditations on the main themes of this book. The only somewhat disappointing character was the Coachman, who’s motivational 180 was a bit too convenient and just bugged me for a few chapters after it happened.

Prose

The actual prose of this book is delightful. It flows incredibly well; it’s well paced and it was easy get into a groove of reading it. The only point where I was fully thrown out of the text was early on when there was mention of a “camming device” with no explanation of what that was. I don’t think this is a particularly ubiquitous piece of climbing equipment outside of the climbing enthusiast’s world and so could probably do with some explanation.

The main criticism of the prose I would give is that Klune has a habit of introducing motifs he then doesn’t really do anything with. For example, the Authority (the robot overlords) use the symbol of the cat and the fox, which is immediately identifiable as an allusion towards the Disney cartoon but doesn’t do anything beyond being that allusion. It gives no deeper insight into the Authority and if one were not aware of the Disney cartoon then there would be no clear reason why this symbol is being emphasised repeatedly. When he does use symbolism, like the motif of the clockwork heart that works its way throughout this novel, he does it spectacularly well. There is a richness to his use of symbolism that is so enchanting that it is even more disappointing when there is then such empty symbolism alongside it.

Finally, I would add that the first part of the novel could do with a few paragraph breaks. I did not find the long run-on nature of the opening to be particularly ADHD friendly and that was the only part of the book where I regularly found myself going back to reread a passage to make sure I had the right of it.

Conclusion

Overall, I thoroughly enjoyed this book. I found it engaging and charming and thoroughly enjoyed the dialectical explorations of personhood, forgiveness, redemption and friendship. I found the meditations on these themes insightful and inspiring and had more than one flash of insight into my own WIP as a result of reading this.

That said I was somewhat dissatisfied with the ending. This may be a personal thing as a bit of a policy wonk, but I really would have appreciated even just a little more about how society was going to move forward after the hero’s completed their quest. That is not to say that the ending was not beautiful, it was a wonderfully understated and tender way to end the story, but I could not help but be distracted by thoughts of all the others whose lives were impacted and the uncertainty of their fate.

I would recommend this book to those who enjoy imaginative retellings of classic literature, as well as anyone who enjoys somewhat whimsical sci fi settings. I think this would be a marvellous book for a 14–16-year-old, although it does have some strong language and sexual references that not all parents will be happy with, and it is the sort of book a weird little 12-year-old who already reads beyond their reading level (like me) and hides copies of Neil Gaiman’s Neverwhere under their bed (like I did) would absolutely devour and obsess over for years to come.

#book reviews #reviewing is an art #In the Lives of Puppets #TJ Klune #4 out of 5 stars #writeblr #creative writing #writing #fiction writing #writer community #writer things

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daniel-fortesque · 9 months

Text

Expedition to the ruins...

A few weeks ago Janelle discovered an ancient map of Rauryn Heights in the crypt of an old ruined family vault of an unknown soldier. There were several places on the map, including ones that no longer existed, but one place that was truly intriguing was the map in the area of the freshwater lake next to the "White Mansion Ruins" to the north, marked in red ink, a blur with a barely legible inscription "Bloody spurs".

Bloody spurs. Lake near the ruins

Cullen: Father, we're here. Ussur cleared the passage, and now we are sailing to look around. As soon as we are on site, I will contact you. End of connection!

Sean: Got it, be careful!

Ichthyander Ussur floats to the surface of the lake and swims up to Harker's boat.

Ussur: Lord Cullen, the path is clear!

C: Okay, let's see what's in there. Kallen and Ussur swim through the tunnel and emerge in a grotto under the mansion.

U: Over here, my lord. Kallen and Ussur disappeared into the darkness of the cave.

Bloody spurs. Grotto

C: A real grotto under the mansion. I wonder who lived here used this tunnel to hide something?

U: Rather, he was hiding from love adventures ... well, or from creditors. I guess the cave was once more "cleaner", but due to earthquakes, half of the cave is deformed, and the water has become strange ... and the water is the color of blood, smelling of metal.

C: Don't you love this smell?

U: It's different here, my lord... Vile.

C: I agree. Okay, let's take a look.

They moved between the sharp stalactites, trying not to hurt themselves. The grotto was no larger than the living room at the main Harker estate in Twinburke. But because of the collapses, it was difficult to understand its real size. The cave was of natural origin, only the stone arches, plausibly close to the style, stood out a little. Cullen noticed them.

C: Look, it looks like there is an entrance to another room. Ussur glanced into the darkness of the room indicated by Cullen.

U: It looks like it. But I suggest looking around here for now.

C: Yes, but the lights don't stop flickering. It’s impossible to look around normally, at least for me for sure.

U: Why, my lord?

C: Although I am the son of a vampire, I do not see in the dark and through walls like you or just in the dark like a father.

U: I beg your pardon, Lord Cullen, I forgot. But, alas, my vision here for some reason is powerless. I can't see anything behind objects or behind walls. Something is bothering me. But through the darkness, I see everything clearly. Please forgive me.

C: Stop apologizing, Ussur. By the way, you need to contact them. Cullen turned on the headset.

“Cullen speaking, over?

S: Over, Cullen, we hear you well, the signal on the camera is very bad, the picture is not visible. Everything is fine?

C: Yes. Ussur and I are in the grotto under the mansion. Everything is “overgrown” with stones, most of the hall is littered, so there is nowhere to turn around. The water inside is red and smells like metal, but it's not blood, as Ussur says. It's something else...

J: "Something else"? For example?

C: No idea, Mom. The smell of metal, maybe there is something metallic here ... it has rusted, coloring the water, but in this light it is impossible to understand. The lanterns here are very junk. We need to come back here with more advanced equipment, and not light as it is now.

S: Right, given that you went there just to reconnoiter. I will ask Thor to come, then we will discuss further actions. Video transmission is not working on your camera, Cullen, switch it to photo mode and take a picture of everything in the cave. When you return, we will study all the pictures in more detail.

C: I will. We're moving on, I'll call again later.

U: My lord, did you find any information about this building above us? S: No, we have already discussed everything that we knew. Nothing more could be dug up.

Ussur and Cullen turned off the radio, and Harker began renting the room. Ussur, on the other hand, examined the cave, but he was not going to go into the arch discovered by Cullen alone. Ussur walked around the cave several times, but he did not find anything useful or unusual. Only the statue above the water and standing on a pedestal worried him a little. Even when he swam up to her and probed, he did not find anything unusual.

Having finished shooting the grotto, Cullen nodded to Ussur and the two of them went deep into the grotto. With their hands on the shoulders of the ichthyander, they walked in a file, and the vampire was the "eyes" of both. Ussur felt tension at every step, and this did not escape his companion.

C: What's the matter, buddy? Do you see anything behind the walls? U: No, nothing. There is something I don't like here.

C: Danger?

U: Possibly. The corridor of the narrow corridor was partially littered, it would be impossible to clear it with just one pickaxe. Dynamite was excluded - the collapse of the ceiling is guaranteed! The travelers came out into the only uncluttered small hall, but it was not a natural cave, it was a room with well-finished and hewn walls. Cullen took a few shots, with the flash he could see a little of the room, but the scenery was no different from the previous room. Cullen contacted the Harkers again.

C: Callen speaking, over? A strong crackling sound was heard in the earpiece, at the other end they answered. The connection was clearly broken and barely caught.

S: Cullen... it's hard to hear.

C: It's okay! I repeat, everything is fine. Communication deteriorates as you go deeper. How did you get it?

Crack again. The signal was weakening.

S: Understood…sho…Communication…pl…Cullen…don’t delay… Go back to…and from there, along…no… How do you understand, n…?!

C: Accepted. End of connection!

S: The end...!

Ussur returned from somewhere behind his back and, lightly touching Cullen, said: “My lord, I found something in the other room. Come on! In this corridor, a copper light shone faintly and Cullen's flashlight.

There was a faint copper light in this corridor, and Cullen's flashlight worked more or less normally. This corridor was just as small, but unlike the other rooms, this one looked the most interesting. At one far end of the wall were three red granite columns carved into niches. The columns were the same along the edges, the niches were approximately in the middle of the pillars, and the third between them with a niche almost at the top and in it stood a terrible altar object. The skull on the candelabra looked across the room. In front of this column stood a tall golden candelabra with a beautiful stone with carved lace petals embedded inside.

C: Interesting, isn't it? One particular skull appears to be made of something, the stone looks like plaster. There are some precious stones in the eye sockets. And jewelry physalis in a candelabra bowl. U: It looks like these items are part of the mechanism ...

C: And the same thought flashed through me when I saw this skull, but where he looks is also littered with stones.

Ussur turned sharply to the wall and began to move his hands along the walls, as if he had sensed something.

C: Hey, what are you doing?

U: My lord, have you read the books of your ancestor Master Janos Harker, an archaeologist-adventurer?

C: So, wait… Janos… Janos… Ah! Ephra's son, huh? The one who found a lot of artifacts in Egypt and canopic canopies with sarcophagi?

U: Yep.

C: No, just one... "Curse of the Pharaoh's Tomb" or something like that... Why?

U: Master Janos wrote in his books what he told us all. Lord Janos once mentioned that in one of the lost tombs in the Valley of the Kings, he found a room with several carved plinths. The lord said that several plinths were empty, and the rest carried certain objects in accordance with the inscriptions in the bases.

C: Oh yes. I forgot that you caught him alive, and I think you were the one who predicted to Ephra that she would have twins, right?

U: Fortunately, yes.

C: You know, sometimes I envy you.

Ussur turned to Cullen questioningly.

C: You saw many Harkers personally, watched their birth, how they grew up and all their life until their death you were with them. In this I envy you. Ussur smiled sadly.

U: No, my lord. There is nothing to envy here. Every time someone dies in the family, everything inside me is torn apart. And the thought that I can do nothing kills me ... Powerless in front of it.

Cullen grimaced and, in order to lead his friend in a more important direction, changed the subject.

C: If you are hinting at the inscriptions, then they are not here, but about the objects ... One of them is a skull on the topmost pedestal, so to speak, it is in place. But two niches are empty, which means they must be "occupied with something." Ussur moved along the wall diligently feeling each stone, peering with his eyesight, but they did not see anything, which is strange. Ichthyander now stretching out to the full length of his body, then shrinking into rings like a snake, he led his hands down along the entire wall. Nothing. Taking a deep breath, he returned to the pillars.

U: Did you take a picture of the room, my lord?

Cullen nodded.

U: Well, that's all we can do for now. These pillars are definitely some kind of mechanism... But certain items are needed.

C: Skulls? W: I think so too. Once one of them is already in place, you need to find or make others yourself.

C: We may be wrong, but it's worth a try.

Ichthyander crossed his arms over his chest and for a long time examined the columns and the candelabra in front of them.

Then he nodded to Cullen and spoke. U: We have to go back. Lord Sean and the others will be worried that we've been out of touch for so long. Yes, I would like to return as soon as possible. Cullen smiled broadly.

C: Do you think my son has already woken up and missed you?

Ussur was slightly embarrassed and could not help smiling in return.

U: I hope so, my lord. Cullen looked around the gloomy grotto. This cave holds no less secrets than the mansion above them, or rather, what is left of it.

C: So far, I can say with accuracy that we have found the entrance to the grotto and this corridor leads further, but in order to understand how we can move forward, we need to return here more equipped and prepared. Let's go from here.

U: I agree.

***

The next expedition failed. Cullen and Ussur returned home and the family, having discussed the details, decided to postpone the visit to the grotto in the near future until Janelle recovered. But soon Sean's wife was hospitalized with a serious illness, and the adventure to visit the grotto was postponed. After several months of grueling struggle, Janelle died in the hospital. Ussur no longer brought up the subject of the ruins with his family, but guided by his curiosity and adventurous nature, he secretly sailed to the grotto for his own exploration.

- Harker Dynasty (playing this family since 2017)

#daniel fortesque #sabbora jcdc #the sims3 #ts3 art #Harker Dynasty #ts3 gameplay #ts3 scenery #ts3

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prismatic-souls · 2 years

Note

Prompt number two, Answer whenever you want:

"My small friend, If you can read this, I am teetering on the edge of insanity, I'm so sorry, My princess... I could noT WAIT"

*The rest of the letter is mostly unintelligible, mainly just scribbles with orange stains all over the silk paper*

Okay this one actually took a few minutes of very difficult thinking. So, forgive if it doesn't quite work, I genuinely was so lost on how to write this one. I did change your letter because I wanted it to seem like something that was worked on for a while during the course of the infection.

Hornet found the letter next to her makeshift bedspread. The thin layer of ash that had settled around her gave an idea of how long she had slept, and the even thinner layer of ash on the letter showed her when it had been left. The fact that she didn't wake up from the sound of someone entering the cave she slept in concerned her slightly, but that was a worry for another time.

The note was a silken paper-like sheet, with curving, yet sloppy handwriting that stirred memories in the back of her mind. The words were written in a sharp black ink that faintly glistened even in the dim cave.

"My small friend, if and when I can deliver this to you, I hope you're still well. I hope that the Radiance's Infection has not claimed your mind as she has so many others. I'm sorry I cannot visit you, but I still hold that vow I made all those years ago."

Hornet noticed a small orange stain on the side of the page, directly next to a black one that was not the same as the ink. She noted it as odd, but otherwise paid it no mind, aside from her avoiding where the orange was.

"I promised to protect you, and if I have to kill the Radiance myself, then so be it. If I am killed, remember that I tried. Remember me, as I remember you; with happiness."

A massive orange stain crossed the paper and there were obviously words under it, but they were not legible. The next chunk of writing, Hornet noticed, was frantic seeming, with harsh angles that seemed like the quill skipped off the page with how fast the author must have written the letter.

"For this final message, before I deliver this to you, I have teetered on the edge of insanity. The Abyss is still open and safe to you, I assure you. I hope that we'll meet again in this life or the next."

The writing continues for a little bit, but it was mostly looping what had already been said. It quickly turned nonlegible. There was a large amount of orange stains smearing the black ink all over, and Hornet set down the note before seeing another sheet of paper sticking out from the unsealed envelope.

It was a drawing. Specifically, her drawing. From when her father asked her to draw her 'imaginary friend.'

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sunnydaleherald · 6 months

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The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Sunday, December 10

XANDER: It's a good thing I'm part fish. BEAUTIFUL WOMAN: Which part? XANDER: The one with the hook in it. BEAUTIFUL WOMAN: Careful. Someone might reel you in. XANDER: Yeah, but then there'd be the flopping and the gasping and sure, maybe it'd work out, but chances are I'd up and leave you at the helm in your white dress and they find you spawning with another fish who turns out to be spawning my very good friend night and day behind my back and then comes the fighting and again the flopping and the gasping 'cause hey -- Chicken of the Sea here's not doing great with the women these days.

~~Seeing Red~~

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

Shopaholic by veronyxk84 (Buffy, Dawn, PG-13)

The Gubbins of Terror by WarnerHedgehog (Buffy, OCs, G)

Show Me by Echofarandfaint (Buffy/Spike, E)

Truth in the Lie by Bobbie23 (Giles/Jenny, Buffy, T)

It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Cocktails by honeygirl51885 (Buffy/Spike, PG)

Yes! The Great Christmas Bake Off. I Love This Show! by honeygirl51885 (Buffy/Spike, G)

Meant 2 B by Spikelover4ever (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

Welcome Home by VeroNyxK84 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

Sugar by honeygirl51885 (Buffy/Spike, PG)

The Christmas that Spuffy… Went on a Bicycle Tour in Amsterdam by Tessa (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

Interactive: A Spuffy Christmas Mad Lib by all_choseny (Buffy/Spike, )

[Chaptered Fiction]

Forgiveness Doesn't Come Easy, Chapter 10 by slaymesoftly (Buffy/Spike, R)

Ties to the World, Ch. 30 by The Danish Bird (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

The Neighbor's Point of View, Ch. 63 by the_big_bad (Buffy/Spike, PG)

The Aurelian Prophecy: There's No Way Out, Ch. 9 by Willow91 (Buffy/Spike, R)

New Normal, Ch. 29 by holetoledo (Crossover with Clive Barker's Jericho / Tortured Souls, Buffy/Spike, Angel/Cordelia, Adult Only)

Hell Hath No Fury, Ch. 4 by the_big_bad (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

The Freak Show, Ch. 8 by hulettwyo (Buffy/Spike, Adult Only)

Cherry On Top, Ch. 13 by Maxineeden (Buffy/Spike, R)

Cherry On Top, Ch. 14 by Maxineeden (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Slay Bells Ringing, Ch. 10 by all_choseny (Buffy/Spike, PG)

High Tide, Ch. 7 by ClowniestLivEver (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

Forgiveness Doesn't Come Easy, Ch. 10 by slaymesoftly (Buffy/Spike, R)

As You Wish, Ch. 2 by Melme1325 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

As You Wish, Ch. 3 by Melme1325 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Easy Street, Ch. 1 by Arke (The Walking Dead crossover, Faith, FR18)

Out For A Walk... Bitch, Ch. 4 by MaggieLaFey (Buffy/Spike, Adult Only)

Forgiveness Doesn't Come Easy, Ch. 10 by Slaymesoftly (Buffy/Spike, R)

A Very Summers Winter, Ch. 10 by VeroNyxK84 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

Spuffy's Little Helper, Ch. 10 by Alyot (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

Slay Bells Ringing, Ch. 10 by all_choseny (Buffy/Spike, PG)

High Tide, Ch. 7 by ClowniestLivEver (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

[Images, Audio & Video]

Banner: I Saw Buffy Kissing Santa Claus by veronyxk84 (Buffy/Spike, worksafe)

Captioned screenshot: "im a fake idgaf girl" (Spike, worksafe, click the image to make the text legible)

[Reviews & Recaps]

Bad Eggs by idknikkip

[Fandom Discussions]

Spuffy Realizations: Seasons 5-6 by marilyn-not-monroe

WHY IS SPIKE SO POLARIZING? by NoShip

Spike punching Tara by The Whirlwind and others

“All those hours locked up under the stairs and you still weren't good enough” by JellyfishDry9464

Giles wanting to kill Dawn. by AcanthocephalaFew846 and others

Should Xander and Willow have dated? by Simple-Ceasar

Buffy-Triggered Food Cravings by 1r3act

TIL Sweet killed a dragon (kinda) by DifficultRice7075

"Older and Far Away": Richard's weirdly incurious! by 1r3act

Were Xander and Anya on the verge of getting back together at the end of Season 7? by GreyStagg

What would Wesley have done in Season 5 of Buffy? by Simple-Ceasar

Submit a link to be included in the newsletter!

Join the editor team :)

#buffy the vampire slayer #btvs #angel the series

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dragon-age-codex-entries · 10 months

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Codex entry: Journal of Gurd Harofsen

This appears to be scattered pages from an old journal. The handwriting is barely legible and filled with spelling mistakes:

“They told me not to go, but I did. I had no love of mountains. Red-Lion Hold raids for goats and chickens. There are better fights in the lowlands. I am tall and strong, and they think me a great warrior. I bed many women with my tales. Why would I go back?”

Several pages have been torn out or scratched over until the next legible section:

“The darkspawn struck Red-Lion Hold. I heard the news in a tavern in Redcliffe. The Blight took the land. The Lady sends no messengers to blight-touched bodies. My kin will know no peace.

I curse the Lady. I curse Korth. I curse all the gods who let Red-Lion fall. The people did the rites, sang the songs. Why would the gods abandon Red-Lion?

I left the mercenaries I traveled with. They understood. Many have lost kin of their own to the Blight.”

Several more pages are illegible, and then:

“I have taken the survivors. I know how to travel better than they do. The thane is dead, but many warriors survive. Many people died from blight-sickness. Harof Talespinner was among them. Those who live say they asked the lowlanders for help, but they let Red-Lion die.

We must find a path. We have no need of Korth or the Lady, not if they would abandon my people like the lowlanders did. The only god I will forgive is Hakkon, for the tales say he was stolen by the lowlanders when the Jaws of Hakkon bound him to flesh and bone.

Red-Lion Hold is gone. We are the Jaws of Hakkon now. We will build no home, for homes can die. Instead, we will bring Hakkon back and teach the lowlanders to fear the Avvar again.”

These appear to be somewhat recent pages from a journal:

“We have searched for months and found nothing. The tales tell of this area, but the Stone-Bears, a hold of fishermen and chicken farmers, have lived here for generations and seen no sign. If we see nothing, we must keep moving. I will not let my hold falter. We will move on lest we die.”

After several torn-out pages, another section is legible:

“We have found it. Hakkon himself welcomed us. An ancient Tevinter fortress, sheathed in a wall of ice. It was untouched by lowlanders, who could find no way to breach the walls. Our mages alone, blessed by Silent Hakkon with the gifts of ice, could part the wall for a few heartbeats, giving our people time to climb inside.

The wall resists common fire, and even the flames from our mages did little to melt the magical ice. We are safe. The northerner markers lead to a shrine that our mages say reeks of magic. I have sent warriors to guard it, lest it hold some spirit who can part this wall with lowlander magic.

We have found Hakkon, bound in silence where the lowland warrior trapped him for ages uncounted. Our trials have not been in vain. They were a test.

Hakkon will come again.”

These appear to be very recent pages from a journal:

“The lowland warrior trapped our god in some strange magic the mages cannot understand. They say time is twisted upon itself, a knot inside a knot. They say it may be the old Tevinter magic of this place that made it possible, spirits and old Tevinter power like blood and wine.

The spirit of Hakkon remains in the dragon. That much is clear. In the tales, the Jaws of Hakkon tamed it like a hold-beast, then fed it demonweed and other herbs the healers use to bring spirits. We cannot unravel the magic binding the dragon, but perhaps we can bring forth Hakkon himself and bind him anew to some other worthy beast.

Red-Lion Hold's beast died with genlock blood in his jaws. It was a good death, but a death still. As Jaws of Hakkon, we have no hold-beast, but the soft-limbed fools at Stone-Bear Hold have one who is tamed and ready.”

The next several pages are illegible, until:

“The winter-cursed Inquisition has come. The bear is free and our wall of ice shattered by Tevinter magic. We have no time and no beast.

I will eat the herbs myself. The mages say I may not be strong enough to bear such a great spirit as Hakkon. I would rather die trying than fail. I will not abandon my people. I will bring death to the lowlands.

The Jaws of Hakkon will not fail again.”

#dragon age #codex entry #letters and notes #avvar

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ayejayque · 1 year

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Some mistakes that your CV can do without

Life offers you second chances to fix something. But the eye of the recruiter is not so forgiving. One glaring mistake and you are out of the race, sometimes for good. The main aim of a CV is to secure you an interview and nothing beyond that. This blog speaks about some of the avoidable mistakes which can be avoided in order to make a great resume. Some, but not all are as under: The CV is like a newspaper: Do not overcomplicate your CV. Make it simple. Make sure that you take care of the font, font size, formatting, punctuation, etc. It should be reader-friendly and should give a fair idea to the reader in one glance. Headings should be bold, spacing should be proper, the text should be justified, and sections should be clear and separate. Simplify the CV as much as can be done. Balance white space and text. This way all will be legible. Margins should not be too narrow. It should look like the part when you take a printout. Achievements are not stated: Take about your worthwhile achievements in your CV. Mention the roles and responsibilities that went with your achievements. Achievements and accolades will set you apart from the rest. They may also tickle the recruiter’s fancy. Experience not in sync: No matter what experience you may have had, do not mention irrelevant experience. Only mention it if it is in complete sync with the job that you have applied for. Irrelevant self-info: Too much irrelevant personal information will eat up valuable space on your CV. There is no need to mention things that do not pertain to the objective at hand. Father’s name and mother’s name are simply not required. It means very little to the recruiter. Me, Myself & I: The whole CV should be written in the first person. There is no room for any pronouns be it he or she instead of me, I, etc. Use present tense for the present role and past tense for the previous role. Do not do otherwise. An improper email address: Always make sure that you do not have an email id that is non-serious, to say the least. I have seen resumes with email addresses like [email protected], [email protected], and [email protected]. These are not for professional use. Create a new one that can be used professionally. The span of the CV: There is no hard and fast rule for the length of the CV. Make a 2-pager if it is required. Try and have all major info on the first page. I do not advocate the cramming of text on one page. If a second page is required, so be it. This way you will have adequate spacing which will make the CV even more readable and understandable. Lack of appropriate keywords: Modern recruiters do their searching through keywords. They use an applicant tracking system or run your CV against a database using keywords. The keywords are relevant to the vacant position in question. Make it a point to have those keywords on your CV. Keywords should be pertinent to your CV profile. Wrong keywords would be detrimental to your objective of getting hired where you want. Language mistakes vis-à-vis grammar & spelling: These might look negligible, but they have a deep impact on the impression your CV creates with the recruiters. Always run a spell checker before sending your CV anywhere. Do not rely on the auto spell check entirely. Sometimes, it doesn’t pinpoint the mistake. Proofread the CV and have it read again by someone else too. Typing errors do not go well with most recruiters / hiring managers. A second person always catches any mistake that you did not spot when reading your CV. Formatting mistakes: Once the main information has been laid out, the most important area is to make sure that the formatting is done properly too. This will make your CV reader-friendly. Don’t use a small font and also do not use a very big font. Spacing should be properly done between sections and lines. This will make your CV more legible. Use bullets instead of heavy paragraphs. A neat, unsoiled, and simple format is appreciated and sought after. Over-creativity: It is good to be creative but not be over-creative. Hiring managers like short, precise, neat, and simple layouts and formats. In industries involving design, advertising, and IT, it is good to be creative but not over-creative or otherwise. Provide legit information: One should always provide bonafide information and there should be no room for lying or bluffing. This does not get you anywhere and will someday be caught. Don’t get into tricky situations and eventual embarrassment because of lying. You will go through a background check before getting the job. Fake information simply does not take you anywhere. Sidestep abbreviations: Do not use any abbreviations in your CV. The recruiter might not be familiar with the terms or jargon. If it is necessary, use a bracket to elaborate it too. It will clear any ambiguity for the hiring manager when it comes to understanding it. Read the full article

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