#and that is greater to them than any gift and they are returning the favor by keeping it in good shape

[bluesunsdusk]

Thread By Thread

An omium lay desolate and isolated, sectioned off by security detail. Helix Security had mad a lot of effort to make sure no one could enter any of the still-standing omniums after the incident that destroyed a portion of the Australian outback. Most people never entered the complex, leaving it susceptible to damage from neglect and pests. Some omniums that had managed to evade detection before the end of the crisis became dusty and overgrown, causing a hazard for the fusion cores a few still had. So, perhaps, this fate where it was guarded was preferable. They always made sure at least the core was stable. They had learned their lesson, after all. They knew it wasn't something to be messed with.

A skittering sound bounced from the walls and through the sharp geometric architecture deep within the omnium, past swathes of security personnel. It stopped and was followed by a series of high-pitched clicks. Another set of clicks and mechanical squeaks came from a small distance away of it. As if in response, a lower series of clicks and thrumming echoed after it. It was soft, like a whisper, compared to the others. As soon as it was done, the other also weakened their tones.

Two small slicers vacated the room with a few quadrupedal units with a single arm attachment in tow.

It went quiet again, only for the silence to be cut through with a buzzing. Light flickered from the entrance. It continued, sometimes interrupted, sometimes accompanied by small clicks or creaks.

Eventually, the tapping of metal on metal announced the return on the small omnic units. Their pitter-patter triggered a brief pause in activity within the room. After a small low machine hum, it continued. The quadrupeds carried thick metal cords and tubes in their clamps. A segmented metal tendril reached out to the units and rapped into the loop of cord one of them held. It let go and allowed the tendril to carry the bundle away.

The tendril traveled all the way to the other end of the room, where Setesh lay half on their back. Their long neck twisted and they poked their head out from under a set of metal tubes, large optics scanning over the wires, examining them. Setesh looked to the small unit that brought it in and spoke to it in the low clicks that went through the halls previously. "Good," they had said, in their own strange machine language. The quadrupedal unit wiggled briefly from side-to-side as a mimicry of an excited pup once addressed.

Setesh returned to their work, moving the coil of wires and their head under the large structure they were working on. Several wires hung over their face, sparking slightly, hanging loosely. Chewed through by rodents, perhaps. Many rat nests had to be eradicated when they arrived, after all. It wasn't like Helix Security cared to look after this marvel of technology. To them, it was merely a machine, a monster, a harbinger of destruction. The omnium had done nothing but protect itself and the omnics were no more than its only form of defense. Human soldiers never bothered to consider why a machine instructed to do something would do anything in its power to continue what it was constructed to do. It was a basic discussion in AI for decades and yet... Now it sat there, dormant, stuck in a virtual environment where it could enact its purpose for quarantine.

Uncoiling the cords, Setesh began to measure how much of these they'd need to replace parts of the thick wires above them. They spoke to a unit again and it trotted off to an end of the room. After some work, the sparks of the wires Set was under ceased. They moved one hand to hold the wires in place and the other to cut it. They took out a section and placed it to the side. Two more arms folded out from the underside of their chest plate. They took a section of the metal cord they'd been brought and held it in the additional hands, allowing them to carefully cut and shape the cord. Strings of superheated hard light flowed out of their palms and moved with the motion of their fingers. It pulled at the metal, bending and twisting it until it was the same length and shape as the piece of wire Setesh had removed.

They took it between their fingers after allowing it to harden and examined it once again before placing it in the space they had made in the wiring. The fingers of one hand folded out and back, making room for the element in their palm to be more visible. They held the wire still and a small buzzing sound came from the bit in their palm as they nearly touched it to the wire and a bright blue light shined from it. They did the same on the other end.

Now it just needed a protective covering...

Setesh glances at the palms of their hands, the hard light generator bits still visible. It shouldn't be too complex of a shape to perform. They looked at the newly placed wire and contemplated for a few moments. Eventually, fine strings of hard light formed from their palms again and they latched the ends of each on what still remained of the original wire covering. One-ove-another, they wove the threads together, in a lattice structure until tightened together like a reinforced sheet of fabric with a transparent blue sheen.

Staring at the results, Setesh couldn't help but be somehow surprised. They had heard of the exploits of the Vishkar's hard light technology, Maximilien had done a wonderful job of selling it to them when he attempted to convince them to join him, but they hadn't yet taken quite this approach to it. This tool was meant for construction and yet they had adapted it to destroy. They only used it in construction for minor matters or temporary repairs. This was more permanent, slightly more grand in scale, more complex. And yet, it was extremely familiar.

It was quick. It was...easy.

It was almost like that which they had already been made to do.

They looked at their hands again. One of the slicers squeezed its way next to Setesh's head and gently poked their plates. It shuffled back out and waited for Setesh to follow. The slid back and sat up, looking down at the little mechanical creature.

It emitted a croak in a rough and unwelcoming tone and hopped, spinning into another direction and walking off.

"Ah...."

Damage detected. What more did this omnium need fixed? Maybe, their creator would appreciate more than mere repairs. Perhaps, it could use a little upgrade. It won't be the shimmering jewel of Oasis, but it would be an improvement, it could be a step towards it.

#ic: setesh #drabble #drabble: setesh #long post #take my mother's day mind vomit #set is taking care of their parent even if its an unliving unintelligent being kept in a virtual reality coma that sent them out to war #set forgives it bc they would have done the same if they had been a simple-minded static unit put under direct threat by outside forces #also it's the human's fault for automatic the factory process and not remembering runaway AI routines now it can't stop it's previous promp #Even if it wasn't out of care it gave them life even if this life sucks they had a chance to awaken and can now choose how they live it #and that is greater to them than any gift and they are returning the favor by keeping it in good shape #also... if omniums work on the same systems as omnics... does that mean aurora's sacrifice could have realistically affected omniums #that's right i was thinking about stuff again omniums COULD have awoken but blizz won't dare to do that because it complicates things #Set vc: Let my omnium wake up and live to be a sanctuary for my people #Naj: What about the humans? I don't think they'd like that going by what happened in- #Set: FUCK them humans! #Naj: What if we move it to Mars or the moon though? You know? A mass omnic exodus. #Set: !!! #stone by stone? thread by thread. Yeah I stole that title from the Sym thing #yeah i am listening to love power from disenchanted again #anyway enjoy my countless mistakes bc I am not proofreading this

[dyrewrites]

Before Deluca -- Parisian Holiday

As I said, we spent six hours stuck in one place for the portrait.

Lucient’s attempt to fog any subsequent surprises failed miserably in that time and I caught his plans to visit a museum and a moonlit picnic—with flowers and wine. Delectable those, and perfect gifts, but I tired of being the subject of attention. I wanted to return some to him, a taste at least.

So, keeping those revelations to myself, through my own fog of curated memories that made him scoff whenever he dared peek, I considered additions he would enjoy.

While we were midway to the museum.

Sprawling, that palace—and that time it was, or used to be—akin to a massive stone beast situated mid-crawl along the Seine. It mesmerized, even from our distance it dominated the skyline with steepled roofing and impressive domes. It even boasted its own pavilion, which teemed with life, visitors weaving in and out of meticulously tended shrubberies.

But we hadn’t reached them just yet. We were surrounded still by shops and homes with our destination a sight to savor as we enjoyed a leisurely early evening stroll.

With Lucient’s arm firm around my own, my fingers in his and my eyes locked on what posters plastered to various homes and shops on the way declared “La Louvre”, I would interrupt that leisure.

“There was a bakery back there,” I told the cool face nuzzled into my shoulder.

“Mm,” it answered, lost to the simple peace we shared.

Which I would disrupt, “Perhaps, after we’ve seen all you desire to show me in that grand palace, we could see if that bakery sells chocolates?”

Lucient’s parasol slipped with how quickly he stopped, but I caught it before the still bright sun could do more than sting. “It is your week, treasure,” he reminded after taking it back, honeyed brows knit, silvery-blues narrow, “do you even like chocolate?”

“Not in the least,” I said, leaning to whisper in his ear, “but you adore it and I adore you.”

Then he caught me, yanking me by my jacket to answer with a kiss so deep his next words sang through thought alone, I love you.

When he released me, I held my forehead against his, savoring the chill of his skin, the sweetness of his words, and returned them, “I love you too.”

“Bougez vos fesses!” someone shouted behind us, voice heard a second ahead of the rattling coach they shouted from.

Scooping Lucient up, I hopped clear of the coach, landed poorly…and dropped us both into bushes. The coach continued on—the voice within it laughing, with others joining—as we scrambled in broken bits of leaf and twig.

Also laughing, with intermittent groaning and sharp breaths as Lucient dug around for his parasol.

“What a graceful thing you are,” he teased when he found it.

Helping him to his feet, I teased back, “Be glad I hopped toward the bushes…”

Eyeing the Seine, and grimacing, he huffed and slapped dirt and plant debris off me—swatting me in the process, albeit discreetly—before retaking my arm. I returned the favor, but not the swat, and accepted his silence as he guided us onward—keeping far from the river.

A true palace, La Louvre was monumental in size. Three floors above the ground, three windows tall, and those windows were enormous affairs that dwarfed any average door. And two of me, perhaps three, standing foot to shoulder could not have touched the top of that entry. I gaped, in awe I gaped, craning my neck for the embellishments; sculptures dotted much of the building but especially enchanting ones looked down from the apex of the entry. Swirling patterns and greater figures lured my eyes along every face, every edge, every corner...

I had to be dragged inside, to the sound of huffed giggles.

“I know the building is lovely, treasure,” Lucient admitted once beyond the threshold, “but we’re here to see what’s inside.”

A problem, that, for inside held such sights. Beyond the beauty of what hung, so lovingly displayed on walls and in alcoves, the walls themselves, and the floors, and the archways were artistry in their own right. Firmer the arm that tugged on mine, yet giggling while I could only gasp every few steps.

We stopped in a salon choked in framed paintings, and shuffling visitors. And it was there I lost my breath. Not to the art—magnificent as it was, tantalizing with color and brushstrokes that all but sang for fingers I couldn’t feed it—but the blood. Hot, pulsing flesh stuffed that space, throbbing with its siren song. The arm on mine shivered with shared want, gripping tighter against it.

Somewhere quieter, clipped thoughts touched mine, now.

Quick our steps, though kept reasonable—human—as we searched for an emptier salon to explore. A salon we found on the top-most floor, bathed in the rusty orange of fading daylight through a ceiling of glass.

Tucking ourselves into a corner, we kept close and vigilant for our hunger...and the smattering of meals wandering through our stolen quiet.

Plenty rooms about, I mulled loud enough for Lucient to nuzzle closer, empty rooms, stocked with such colorful wonders none would notice an extra.

Are we a wonder, treasure? The salacious touch of his thoughts tickled me to giggling, less for the touch than the words—he’d misunderstood.

Assuming most around us would not understand it, I explained in Italian, “Pasti esauriti, amore mio, cadaveri.”

“Mm, mon amour,” he teased my ear with the words, whispering his praise for my flagrant disregard of the life around us, “we shouldn’t, not here, but you’re coming into those fangs beautifully.”

As he made for my lips, he was stopped by a presence. A woman we hadn’t noticed approach. Staring at too close a distance. So close her perfume tickled my throat. It did more to Lucient—flashing his thoughts with faces I didn’t have names for, ones I recalled only as the bloody pulp we left behind—and as he separated enough to glare, he did his best to frighten her with those chill eyes of his.

She didn’t budge, instead she spoke...to me, in an accent I hadn’t heard—it had a twang to it, not unpleasant but oddly inflected it grated—“Were you speaking Spanish, I know a little Spanish but that doesn't sound quite right, you sure you're pronouncing it correctly?”

The twist was felt, through all my muscles, before I gestured—with my free hand—to her and then Lucient, “Maledetto spagnolo, sogno mio, you hear this, who is this?”

“A tourist, mon tresor, judging by her attire,” he kept eyes on her, studying with tilts of his head, while adamantly avoiding speaking to her, “Perhaps she’s from the colonies, one of the newer ones, British maybe?”

Borrowing his mocking tone, and dramatic study, I didn’t speak to her either, “They have no Italians in those colonies?”

“Not many French either, if it makes you feel better,” he smiled—felt though it was through his reach for her thoughts—and added with a grim chuckle, “She assumes I, and all she’s met during her stay in Paris, have a speech impediment.”

The she in question squeaked, “How do you know I—” and scoffed as we turned to one another, waiting a second, then another, before she huffed at our lack of interest, “you two do realize I’m still standing here, don't you?”

“Yes, darling, we're aware,” Lucient taunted, turning again to meet her eyes, “We were hoping you'd leave.”

She didn’t, lip twitching, face twisting—even the ruffles of her gown shook with her rage. Silent, but fuming, she remained vigilant in her irritation.

“Doesn't appear to be working,” I told Lucient, not addressing the woman’s anger but delighting in it, “She's still here.”

“And staring,” he added.

“This how you treat visitors to your country?” She snarled, arms tight at her sides.

And Lucient threw his up, laughing, “So you do recognize that it’s not a speech impediment and you're in France, where the people speak French.” Clapping his hands together, he added in too high a voice, “Tres bien!” she scoffed, but backed up as his face and voice dropped, “Now leave.”

Staring still, she no longer fumed. Eyes wide and arms shivering, her fear was a treat to my senses—evermore the faster rhythm of her pulse. But she didn’t leave.

Gesturing at her, shooing her away as the pest she’d proven to be, my voice rang dismissive and tight, “Vaffanculo, piccola donna.”

“The nerve!” she shrieked, stomping out of the salon and muttering of foreigners—amusing us evermore.

“She understood none of what you said,” Lucient pointed out through chuckles.

Shrugging, I wrapped an arm around him, looking into his smiling face—creased with continued laughter, “And yet she left.”

“Tres bien, mon amour,” he sang through kisses, “that filthy mouth of yours proved useful.”

“My mouth is often useful,” I insisted, smiling with each soft touch of his lips on mine, “but it wanted to bite her…”

“As did mine,” he sighed, “but they'd have kicked us out if we did and we've not seen everything yet.”

Groaning at the memory, I addressed it, “and we already lost the library.”

“You got your novel,” he snipped, “and it was your own fault,” tugging me towards another salon, he added, “chose coquine, you should have known better.”

“Perhaps,” I agreed, slipping ahead of him before we reached another crowded hall, to grip his shoulders and tease his neck, “But you’re so delicious.”

“Espèce de bête,” he scolded, “don’t you start, there are sketches here I want you to see,” and, turning me around, he swatted me too sweetly.

“Mm, my love,” I warned through low chuckles as I stepped behind him and, delighting in a rare gasp of surprise, I earned another with a whispered, “swat me again and this beast will cause a scene.”

He warned back, “Will you now,” and, turning to gift me a taste of his lips, bit the smile he flashed me and sped towards the crowds of art and life. Yet his thoughts had more to give, You'll have to find me first, my love...

Watching him blur, black and red with all he wore, I waited for any to respond to his weaving through them. None did, not fully—a few turned, as if checking for a breeze—so I followed.

A fine test of my speed that, and thankfully I didn’t run into anyone...or anything. I couldn’t move as quickly as he could, however, and so I lost him.

#writeblr #writing #novel #before deluca #vampire romance #snippet #these two are going to be the death of me

[pen-observing]

synopsis: Political games were low and dirty and nobody else knew that better than you. Achieving what you wanted meant making someone love you effortlessly but where does honesty still stand? And just why did you declare Kaeya as your 'arch-nemesis'? word count: 2k warnings: reader is in the Fatui and is getting information on drugs. (kinda based on the taylor swift song of the same name; this fic is gn but her song is not.)

What was fate truly? It was something you loved to think about – or rather than loved – it was something that life demanded of you. Was fate the beginning or the end and how do aligned stars bring someone from one end to another? Just how did they bring you here? 

The winters of your glorious homeland were never winters that loved you; or anyone who grew up in the same part of town for that matter. Poverty breeds familiarity between the unfortunate ones and a wretched system means that only the chosen few get to leave it with something to look forward to.  

But chosen by whom? The ruler of your land or her lackeys perhaps.   By fate instead? Seems a bit too incidental for something that kids like you were able to trust.  

When you were little – the Fatui soldiers were the closest you had to the image of a miracle. You never learnt their names but they weren’t rough with the children, ever. The adults would call them ‘black souled’ and would freeze and not blink any time they walked into the poverty towns. They came rarely – but they often brought gifts and warm clothes in their hands. Sometimes even warm meals.  

And now – you are aware just how much of a propaganda that was. There was a clear reason why they treated the kids so gently and so carefully. But to a child – the political games or raising children into soldiers and servants to serve an ideal, someone they never see but has blood considered more important than the rest – it just doesn’t matter.  

This person was here. This person, whose name I have never learnt and wasn’t even allowed to learn, was the one that helped me. I should be like them. I should return the favor and remember their good deeds.  

And that is what you did. When you grew up a bit – you joined their special programme and they taught you all the ways to be a perfect spy. And with their teachings – you grew to consider yourself just a seed for legacy.  

They had this one book everyone was ordered to read. And you hated how similar the circumstances of it were to your own. Yes, here you had a bed and a warm place to sleep; but the characters inside those pages reminded you what you escaped from. And while you do not remember most of it (the book is still on your shelf but your hands have never reached for it again) you remember the rhetoric.  

An individual is valued if they are greater than themselves. Sunflowers are the dream of the eternal land that slumbers under snowfall. You should be the sunflowers of our nation. You should be the hope for the others. 

So, what really chose you? Was it fate that brough you there? Or did the people deem you worthy enough to be in the programme? It is easier to call things fate once you realize how little your own hands had to do with your current life. And it is scary. To see just how you’ve followed orders and not free wishes but; you have your own place. You work under a Harbinger. You visit orphanages and read stories to little children; you give back to your community and you use everything you’ve learned for something greater than you.  

And what is accidental in this world? And what about this room?   You stand amongst the elite – your assignment sheet that you burned as soon as it was delivered to you said that much. The dress code was completely elegant and almost everyone around you was there because they stepped and plotted to gain advantage.   The room is full of golden decor. There is no way such richness could be made without blood. Perhaps not right now, but it had to be earned from some king, kept from other people in the past.  

So really, all this spy work was a judgement towards the very foundation of it all. And all these people – were there for you to charm effortlessly, to make them trust you enough where you would gain worthy information and pass it along so that it could climb the ladder and reach a superior you’ve never even seen. 

This line or work – chosen by any kind of fate – was a testament to yourself. It defined you and regardless of the danger, or the fact that you were able to trust nobody and nothing for it – you carried it out with everything you had.  

Being called a mastermind was not as flattering of a title as those jealous of you considered it to be – but it was a certain reward. A certain sense of glory to it.   And because of that – currently you hate the gaze of the man from across the room. You try to mask that with your drink and a polite laugh at the rich business man that gained his mora from betraying his own brother.  

And when that is over – he is still looking at you.  

In this golden room he was the only one that your instincts deemed dangerous enough to be careful of. Golden gleams and silver shines, rubies and other precious stones were the main décor these people chose to add to their attire. Even you decided that playing it safe and wearing what Pantalone said was the best course of action. 

But it seemed like he was the one who wasn’t trying to prove a point. His dark blue hair and an all-black attire were not accentuated with expensive jewels – he chose to only use silver instead.   Maybe this was precisely what he planned for. It was a way of laying down the groundwork, a tactic you recognized very well. You could either fit in with the rest of the lot or present yourself as less rich than them – that way they were less likely to suspect you or pay attention to you.  

It was a strategy you loved to use at the very start of your career, if you can call it that; but now you had something more to prove.  

And he was still looking at you.  

And it wasn’t a look that marvelled at you – it seemed like his smile and a raised glass in your direction was saying he was somehow higher than you.   And you refused to lose this game. You refused to lose years of your life to someone like him. It doesn’t matter what decided your presence in this room, or his, or just how the chain reaction came to be – you wouldn’t lose. Because you designed how this night would go, 

Never, ever, did anyone so far figure out that you were a spy. Your existence was performance itself, no matter which role and nation you were tasked with, so there was no room for flaws or accidents.  

Was this man your enemy? The file didn’t single him out as anyone noteworthy. Just because his gaze seemed insulting; he wasn’t your assignment. You were here to take notes on the new drug circulating amongst the extra rich; not to analyse just what he wanted from you.  

So, you ignored it.   Until you couldn’t. 

In the middle of you finally gaining substantial information on the drug circulation route – a waiter rudely interrupted to hand you a drink.  

“One ‘Fateful Midnight’ cocktail for you.”  “I wonder who named it that? You’ve, however, made a mistake, I never ordered this.”  “It was ordered for you by the young gentleman who was sitting over there. Oh, and he also wanted me to hand you this note.” 

You looked behind him; but this time your eyes did not meet anyone else’s gaze; immediately you knew who it was from.  

It was from him – not just anyone who randomly decided to flirt with you. And your shoulders tensed as you reached for the note – the fact that he wasn’t there anymore was unsettling for you. He did it on purpose, and now you were on the receiving end of his strategy.  

After finishing up the conversation with your target (they still came first and you would not be deterred just because he wanted you to be), you made your way onto the balcony and finally opened the note.  

It read: ‘You play the game very well, perfectly even. But I still know what you are.’ 

How dare he? How dare he be the first to see through you so far? Instead of feeling worry, you felt anger. And it was overflowing. You were the sunflower! You were the hope! And someone else wouldn’t take that away from you.  

In this moment, your composure was in danger; your hands ripped up the note with elegant handwriting and you threw it off the balcony; the wind would carry it away. It didn’t deserve a better fate anyway.  

So, what if he realized you were a spy? It just meant that he was one too. And why should that bother you? You still flawlessly completed your assignment – that was what truly mattered. Tomorrow, you would report back to your Harbinger and they would compliment you on a job well done. 

It shouldn’t bother you; really; but it did. And your anger only ended up spreading through your entire body once you looked down and saw him sitting on the stone bench – without a worry in the world. He didn’t even notice your little outburst; he was too busy with something in his lap.  

He seemed so carefree; so different than you. But this was still an insult; and before you knew it, you went back inside, walked through the golden door and descended the stairs with a quick stride to reach him.  

What would you say once you were there? Not important.  Would you lie and play dumb or would you do something else? Not important.  Was fate the thing that caused this interaction? That also did not matter.   All that mattered was that you reached him. 

And once you were finally outside – you figured playing dumb and assuming another role would serve no purpose. You would be you; entirely. Without restraints.  

An in this state of freedom and anger, you walked and pointed an accusatory finger in his direction. He looked up to see you there with slight surprise, and it seemed like the tuxedo cat in his lap shared his sentiment. 

“Oh, I did not think you would end up ‘tracking me down’. Should I owe this pleasure to fate perhaps?” 

His voice was calm and smooth. He was joking and flirting with you despite the stunt he pulled with the note – and it irked you.  

“What is your name?”  “That...that is the question you wish to ask me? No how did you know? No what gave me away?”  “I do not particularly care about any of those; because they are not important. Tell me, what is your name.” 

You weren’t asking him anymore. You would win this game. 

“My name is Kaeya. Kaeya Alberich. Would you be so kind to give out your real name too?”  “No. You are a spy yourself – you should figure it out.” 

Kaeya was even more surprised but the cat went back to happily purring in your lap. A calm washed over you and you made took another step towards him.  

“Remember this. You, Kaeya Alberich, are officially my arch-nemesis.” 

And Kaeya thought you would say something else. He thought you would do something else. But after proclaiming that, all you ended up doing was walking away and disappearing from his sight.  

And if he chose to stand up and grab your wrist; it would have been easier. But Kaeya liked to play these games as much as you did. You set forth a challenge – he should be skilful enough to get hold of you. It was an invitation; and he welcomed it. 

He laughed softly and looked down at the cat in his lap before reaching out to pet it behind the ears.  

“Would you look at that? I think I’ve fallen in love with my self-proclaimed mortal enemy. And Diluc said this event would be too boring for me.” 

a/n: no i will not listen to mastermind for a while again because i put it on a 1h loop

Taglist:

@venexus-but-not, @iridescene, @x-zho, @niicevibe, @mixed-kester, @souglias,

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #kaeya x reader #genshin kaeya #not om #genshin imagines #kaeya x you #sky au

[royalreef]

The serfs flit about, clouding over the shapes created by the furniture they've laid out and the platforms they've unfurled, moving here and there when they drift a little too far from their position or to find another. Every so often they are punctuated by a larger sway, some greater movement of the medium of saltwater, and they all have to readjust at once.

Further still, though their groups are made up mostly of the typical stock, smaller livestock schooling fish, or those with the great many wild numbers to not have to worry about farming them at all in the first place — here and there, there is the long, sinuous and muscular body of a merfolk, their scales the same easy shade of blue as the water around them, easy to miss. They part through the smaller serfs with but a singular flick of their tails, fins drawing forward in attention as they double check the work of the serfs, thrumming approval pressing in and around them all as they ask and reaffirm that everything is coming together, sending some off to fetch more supplies or telling those returning where they should go, ferrying information from here back to the kitchens and the guest rooms and back again.

Miranda is supervising only on a technicality. Really, she doesn't have to be here right now, and she knows that she isn't helping, from the occasional tenseness in the servants' fins, in the way their song pauses or rushes in over itself to patch over some assumed gap. Her presence is stressful, her eyes quick and hard, and even though her scrutiny is nonexistent, they don't know that.

But she wants to be here, clinging onto one of the earliest platforms they set up, claws hooked into a handle to hold her steady as she sits and watches. She's missed the songs. Missed the sights of her fellow merfolk, missed their companionship. This can hardly be labelled as such, but she can't play the choosing type right now. It hurts to resume her title with any seriousness, to go back to playing the part and being the person that her kingdom knows her to be, that she's expected to be, but this is better than otherwise, isn't it?

Sometimes one will come by and offer her something from the kitchens, or tilt their heads back and roll in their own slipsteam and offer her a gift of bone or of metal, or briefly pause in front of her so that they can dip their heads low and rub them against her shoulders, her neck, her sides, reverent. Sometimes she will return the favor, lifting her head up and rubbing her face against theirs, hard ridge of her skull meeting hard ridge of theirs, inhaling the familiar mark of another merfolk and exhaling back out through her gills, and her body will ache and burn and want. They always speed back off, back to their work and their own duties, attending with supervisor praise and endorsement. None have settled down next to her yet, wrapped their arms around her torso and wound their bodies together, but it's coming.

Her guests haven't even arrived yet. They're expected to begin tonight and continue arriving on into tomorrow, likely following the same pattern of arrival as they have for the past several years, but she can't stop thinking about it. The moon beckons her. She's missed being among people who can understand her, any part of her.

#Glory and Gore || IC #Many fish in the sea || Misc. IC Content

[toweringclam]

Adam the Apothecary (Octopath OC)

"Master gave me the gift of life, now I must return the favor."

Links to previous: Osanna the Cleric, Clyde the Merchant, Tusitala the Dancer, Opal the Thief, Penelope the Scholar

Name: Adam Job: Apothecary Gender: Masc (Equally male and female, but most people assume male and he accepts that) Element: Lightning (Spell: Galvanize) Latent Power: Advanced Chemistry (materials impart additional abilities to concoctions) Appearance: Slim but extremely muscular (as opposed to Tusitala's more bulky build). Wears a long coat with no shirt, showing his many scars. Long blonde hair and feminine facial features contrast with his build. Friendly Action: Inquire Unfriendly Action: Press (Gain followers by defeating in combat) Starting Region: Uplands. The requisite mountainous region, though again I want to make it more colorful than past versions. Lots of alpine meadows full of flowers. Starting Town: Blaumberg. A place with a lot of the aforementioned flowers. It's a dilapidated castle town, being largely abandoned and reclaimed by nature. Should give a feeling of melancholy and fallen grandeur. Allied with Noland, but independent. Starting Story: Adam was created by his master an uncertain time ago. His master taught him and cared for him, but one day left on a journey and never returned. He's been taking care of the castle on his own and studying medicine ever since. Noland forces arrive to steal his master's research and set the castle on fire. He confronts their leader, who tells him that his master is dead. But he refuses to believe it, and sets out to find the truth. Goal: Find his master and figure out the secret of his own resurrection so that if they are truly dead, he can bring them back. Battle Motif: "To Restore Life," a dramatic and gothic piece emphasizing the pipe organ.

Adam's character came about when I was shuffling around the jobs and elements. For two games, Lightning has been the purview of Hunters, but I thought it'd be cool to shake things up. As soon as I thought of the lightning + apothecary combination, the answer became clear. BTW, his path action "Press" is him just grabbing someone and saying "I need your help." The typical response is "D...do I have a choice?!"

I worry that in this concept I'm leaning on the two greater antagonists too much. After all, I'm on #6, and 4 of them have been directly opposed to one of the two empires, with the remaining two skirting the line between them. But it also makes the themes more cohesive, and ties into the way I'm doing the split path actions, which I promise I will explain at the end.

Adam has probably changed his motivations more than any other. I've hopped from trying to cure death, to revenge against his master, to trying to save his ailing master, and many more. I finally settled on him in the same ballpark as H'aanit. A complicated relationship to someone he really cares about, but feels abandoned by.

#octopath #octopath traveler #octopath ocs

[occultdaddy]

Immanence is originally a dsmp au, but I wanted to apply it mcyt I currently watch. Relevant terms explained in more details underneath the readmore

Cubfan & gtwScar - Vessels of The Vex Monarch.

Bdubs - Champion. Either blessed by a nature deity, spesifically vegetation, or something something godly item clock.

Cleo - Champion of an ancient god, long forgotten. Her undead life was a curse, but she's cool with it now.

Welsknight - Champion. Unknown. (for now?)

MythicalSausage - blessed by Pearl

Martyn - blessed by Those Who Listen

FWhip - unknowingly blessed by that which worms itself through the dark. Blissfully unaware to how he, unlike others, returned with riches after having accidentally dug too deep into the world.

Joe Hills - Oracle? He's a confusing man. It is unknown whether the deities actually grants Joe the vision and the knowledge, or if his conscious simply grasps onto them by themself.

Pixlriffs - Observer of Time. Does well to document and preserve it without meddling... much.

Keralis - A mortal tether to a void daemon which is... himself??? Perhaps not all of the void deities in need of a mortal tether are lower deities

Lizzie - Child of The Inconceivable. Her reality warping is extremely powerful for someone who's technically half mortal...

Jimmy - son of a dying-and-rising deity.

Pearl - A deity. She keeps "changing" the story of what domains belong to her. So no one really knows. Maybe she doesn't even know anymore.

Impulse - albeit viewed as a demon most of the time, being a Greater Hellbeast means he falls into the deity category.

Gem - a nature deity

Etho - mortal, but it's questionable.

Xisuma - mortal, but just barely

False - mortal. god killer.

Docm77 - Construct. He's done a fair amount of self-alterations since his original construction that he can't be considered anything but self-made at this point. god killer.

EvilEx and Hellsknight - Constructs.

Grian - a former Observer of The World Code. From his extreme and chaotic meddling he is somehow no longer an Observer and is something else. While consequences of meddling is common, being a former observer is unheard of.

Joel would have been considered a construct... Except no mortal made him and no deity has claimed to do so either. He simply came to be one day from clay and magic.

Roles:

Champion - Those that have been granted a gift by a deity. It can be a godly item or a power. It cannot be taken back or traded away. Unfortunately it's not unusual for bad luck and even curses to follow gifts.

Vessel - Someone containing the actual power or even the deity within them. The god can directly influence/interact with the vessel. Deities usually only pick vessels if they want to be directly involved with the mortal world or they're in dire need of tributes. Not all people, especially humans, can survive being chosen as a vessel.

Oracle - They are granted visions and knowledge by one or more deities. They have little to no control of what they see and when they see it.

Blessed - Those who are in favor of one or several gods. Their gifts may be weaker than that of a champion, and can be revoked at any time. But at least it doesn't come with bad luck/curses.

Observer(?) - Those who are meant to only overlook and maybe document a deity's domain. They are not supposed to meddle with it, doing so inflicts grave consequences

Void demon(daemon) - low level deity that lives in the void underneath bedrock. Usually in the depths where players die, but sometimes they will traverse closer to the bedrock. They are unable to leave the void without a mortal tether. A mortal tether is very different from a vessel despite both being closely bonded with a deity. A mortal tether doesn't gain any boons of their own, but the daemon usually will protect them because of their reliance on them.

Half-deity: born with a fraction of the power of their parent, but similarly to Champion it comes with some sort of drawback/curse/bad luck/etc.

Deity (player) : While uncommon, there are some deities who become players. They're usually lower deities such as nypmhs. As far as people know.

Construct: Creatures usually made by mortals: most common way is through the means of of science, magic, or a mixture of both. Constructs who are players have become conscious in one way or another. (it's fairly common for player construct to have rebelled against their maker)

Extra:

god killer: not really a role, but a title. A mark from ones deed. Even deities can gain it if the difference in rank and power between the the deities is large enough.

The Vex Monarch - vex are considered fae, but their monarch counts as a deity.

Those Who Listen - several deities, possibly minor pantheon

The Inconceivable - The Alien. The Other. The Eldritch Abomination. How is Lizzie half eldritch? It's incomprehensible to mortal minds.

#Hermitcraft #empires smp #and martyn lol #mcyt au #Deities and stuff #Might add more later #Long post #Even with the read more #edited bdubs a little - champion fits him better and since champions can be gifted items instead of powers I'm considering the clock

[scriveyner]

gifts & curses 18

gifts & curses: 18/30 wc: 1633 rated: M

Masayoshi looked up when the door to his room clicked open. He wasn’t startled, he had heard the soft footsteps well before they reached his door but he had also registered the momentary hesitation before the door itself opened.

It had gone well past very late and was now very early, and Masayoshi had been sitting on the bed and staring out the window instead of resting; working out the best plan he could manage to get out of here. He had barely any clothes, no shoes…and very little idea what part of the city he was actually in. It would be a slapdash escape, but he’d made worse things work in his favor.

The intruder softly opened the door, and he watched as Akino closed the door behind her, a bag over her shoulder. “I’m not surprised you’re still awake,” she said, her voice as soft as the dim light.

He turned on the bed, kicking his legs over the edge as he faced her. “What are you doing here, Akino-chan?”

Akino touched the bag on her shoulder and then slid it off, setting it on the low dresser. “It’s a dangerous time out there right now, Masayoshi-kun. You already know about the werewolf hunters in the city, but there are larger things afoot than them alone.”

Masayoshi swallowed. The kids were in the city, Hidenori was in the city right now—hopefully, they were all together, but his family was in danger and here he was, unable to help protect them. Masayoshi watched the witch cross her arms and lean back against the dresser, heaving a soft sigh.

“Rian means well,” she said, and Masayoshi made a face. “He honestly does hate werewolves. Most werewolves,” she amended and made an amused noise to herself. “He was killed by one, can’t say I blame him.” Masayoshi opened his mouth to inquire further but she raised her hand to forestall the questions. “Later. If he feels like telling you, that is—it’s not my story to tell. But with the werewolf hunters in the city, neither of us felt it was safe to just let you loose unaided, especially when you let the moon sickness take you like it did.”

“The moon sickness?” Masayoshi asked. He let out an aggrieved noise. “Why won’t anyone just tell me what’s going on? I’m sick of all these half-truths and bullshit, Akino-chan.”

“Let me ask you,” Akino said. “What do you remember from the other day, when you first transformed without the full moon in the sky?”

Masayoshi remembered the panic, the fact that Keiko was limping, wounded—even if just barely—and the anger-turned-to-rage crystallizing in his chest. The split-second of broken chains, and—nothing else. He swallowed. “Not much.”

“The moon sickness is a bloodlust that drives werewolves mad,” Akino said. “They don’t come back to themselves after, and sometimes not even after returning to human form. They have to be put down like the rabid dogs they are.” She braced her palms on the edge of the dresser, cocking her head. “The only reason you’re still alive is that Rian was able to bring you here.”

“It won’t happen again. I have control over it now.”

“It will.” The casual confidence of Akino’s tone made him bristle despite himself. “Wolves who have been affected by the moon sickness once are at greater risk for a reoccurrence. That is the way of the moon sickness, and that’s my primary concern. If you falter…” She shook her head.

“So that’s your justification to hold me here against my will, huh?” He felt the first hint of that flame of anger in his chest again. “For keeping me from my family, for keeping everyone in the dark…” he touched his hand to his bare chest, where the chain would fall if he still wore his ring. The flame hissed and flickered brighter.

“This is not just about your family,” Akino said. “It’s so much bigger than that, Masayoshi, and you are one of the few people capable of stopping what’s coming.” She sighed again. “You of all people should understand that. You’re a hero, aren’t you?”

Masayoshi stared silently at her, fist still curled to his chest.

Akino pushed off the dresser and straightened. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry it shook out this way,” she said. “If the Blade found out about your moon sickness, you’d be dead already. So please remember that it was my decision to handle it like this, and no one else’s.” She gave him a little bow and turned to leave.

Masayoshi said nothing as the door to the room clicked close. The flame of anger in his chest had cooled, and he took a long breath before standing to inspect the bag on the dresser Akino had conspicuously left behind.

There was a wrapped package inside the bag, a fresh change of clothes. And at the bottom of the bag, wrapped separately—was a pair of shoes.

Nestled inside one of the shoes, a cheap flip phone.

Masayoshi’s fingers brushed over the small cell phone, and that ache in his chest grew again. He opened the phone and turned it on—no service here, which somehow didn’t surprise him, given the lack of electronics—but the empty phone book did. This wasn’t his phone, after all, he remembered the sound of the glass front plate of his smartphone shattering against the concrete. Then he laughed at the absurdity because he had no idea what anyone’s phone number was, all the contacts were saved in his old phone.

Well, it didn’t much matter at this point. He would find them anyway.

#

The door to the stairwell was open, just a crack, enough for Masayoshi to get his fingers in and pull the door the rest of the way open. There was no handle on this side, when closed it was completely flush with the wall, with no indication of the seam when the door itself was shut. More magic, Masayoshi figured, but it didn’t matter now. He hurried down the stairwell, lit only by emergency lights, the sound of his new shoes echoing so loud he figured he would be pursued.

There was no sign of Akino-chan or Rian, however, and before he knew it he was pushing out a door with a clearly labeled exit sign and stepping out into a side alley that fed into the main road. The sun was just now starting to emerge, daylight grey and growing brighter.

Masayoshi stood in the entrance to the alley, rooted in place, and just inhaled; basking in the scent of the outside world, of the city so sorely missed he didn’t even know where to start.

Hidenori.

Masayoshi’s heart beat harder at the thought. Hidenori would have found the cubs by now, rounded them up, and looked after them. He didn’t think of himself like that, but Hidenori was the leader of their little pack and the thought of it made Masayoshi smile. What would he think of this new revelation of Masayoshi’s, the fact that he had always been this, he just hadn’t known it?

He inhaled again, deep, looking for the threads of a familiar scent in the stink of millions of people, hundreds of thousands of vehicles, countless animals, trash….

Masayoshi’s eyes snapped open and he stepped out into the flow of pedestrian traffic, head down. He didn’t smell Hidenori or the cubs.

But he did smell a wolf.

#

Akino stood at a window looking down on the street. From this high up, the pedestrians were like ants but she liked to pretend she could pick out which one was Masayoshi even from here. She could sense the vampire in the shadows and sighed but didn’t turn around. “You don’t have to lurk any longer, he’s gone.”

“Letting him go like that is a bad idea,” Rian said.

“You wanted to kill him, I don’t want to hear about your bad ideas,” Akino reminded him, crossing her arms. “You and the Blade both. Come to think of it, you wanted to kill me, too.”

“I have bad luck with witches.” Rian slunk out of the shadows and stopped near the windows, just out of range of where the daylight was starting to emerge. “And werewolves, for that matter.”

“You have worse luck with other vampires,” Akino snorted, and Rian gave a low, un-amused chuckle. “I hope this is the right thing to do.”

“You’re still not sure?” He sounded surprised. “I thought you knew already.”

“Reading tea leaves is a party trick for those who pay for it,” she said and rubbed her hands up and down her arms before turning away from the window. “The future is always in motion, Martin-kun. There are many different elements at play, too many variables tangling the threads for me to keep proper track of how it plays out. Masayoshi-kun is the largest by far, and he pulls on the threads of fate himself.”

“You really think he’s the key to everything,” Kennichi Himura said, stopping on Akino’s other side, “don’t you?”

“He is capable of drawing the disparate elementals all together.” She tilted her head and regarded Kennichi. “That is, unless the Blade still considers him enough of a threat to be put down.”

Kennichi’s mouth quirked, and he glanced out the window. “Do you even think he can be put down?”

“Mm.” She looked to Rian, who was scowling again. “I’m not in a hurry to find out. Are you?”

“Not until we put an end to everything.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Rian said. “First things first.”

“Of course,” Kennichi said, smiling a tight, sharp-toothed grin. “Shibusawa.” He looked at Rian and Akino in turn, who both nodded. “Let’s get to work.”

<< Part 17 || Start || Part 19 >>

#samurai flamenco #gotoyoshi #masagoto #werewolf au 2022 #multipart #ongoing

[illithilit]

what if they kissed? (for Amis- they definitely did... :D)

@vigilant-cleric // Send 'what if they kissed' to get a smooch ; accepting.

          LIKE SO MANY OTHERS that day, he had been picked up in the midst of a fervent attempt at shepherding civilians into areas of greater safety -- one in particular, an older woman struggling with her own clear arthritis to hustle in the direction he had pleaded with her to go in. He'd seen the shadow before she had, and knew of her impending fate if he didn't try to do something. Leaping forward in an attempt at severing the slithering limb from his own youthful nightmares was the last thing he remembered, before waking up under the control of a ghaik, moments before its spawn crawled into his ocular cavity. For as heavy as the sense of impending doom, and the grief for the situation he would be leaving Ashen in, he could at least claim a sense of resignation; he would be able to withstand these horrors better than the poor old merchant woman.

          Most of these things, however, he'd stubbornly refused to share with his camp mates; it was his own burden to bear, not theirs. They could know he was married, for he never took off his wedding band, but he wouldn't allow them any attempts at trying to soothe pains they knew little about. He wasn't brazenly trying to fight his way through the hoards to find his husband; that was all they needed to know.

          The name Waukeen's Rest sounded somewhat familiar, but it wasn't vague recollection that drew him in: it had been the sharp scent of an active fire. They were, much to his own growing annoyance, looking for the Githyanki knights seen from the high point of the Emerald Grove to be circling this approximate area; knowing the temperament of his kin, it was a good place to start even if his scans of the skies yielded nothing. Sight of those standing at the gate, however, had him momentarily frozen; he'd know that figure blind in the Underdark.

          In the moment, he hadn't given any thought to explaining to his companions what was going through his mind -- he simply broke into a run to the side of the man praying over a fallen comrade. Even with circumstances what they currently were, though, prayers such as these weren't to be interrupted for the sake of those grieving, and for the sake of the priest offering a man's last rites. To his credit, he'd been silent in his patience, but once it came to its natural close, his own overwhelming relief bled out from him in the form of scooping up his beloved at the waist and hugging him in a tight embrace.

          "Forgive me, Ashen." Love that spurred heightened distress in times like these when one didn't know whether their loved ones had survived or not urged him to close the distance between their lips. Their kiss, lingering as it was, was as good as ever, but most of all, the knowledge of his breath, the sensation of it on his skin, helps chase away many of the shadows that lingered at the edges of his mind. "I cannot apologize enough for how distressed you must have been these past days. Are you well?" Though he could feel it as he had with the rest of the party, the tadpole lodged within his husband's brain -- but rather than express any of the dismay bubbling up from his chest, peppering Ashen's face in affectionate kisses was a far more favorable substitute.

          "I shall rend whatever detestable wretch in quarters and feed their souls to Avernus for what they have done to you, my beloved." A promise, offered through psionics: there would be bloody vengeance from which no soul could return. They would be one last gift to the lords of Avernus: brand new lemures to feast upon or sacrifice, direct from the spiteful blade of his previously-retired hellfire halberd.

#vigilantcleric #do you think a depressed person could make this? no // asks. #IC: Amis #Amis vc: damning people to Hell is bad and only acceptable when someone hurts your husband #also this was meant to be a cute little reunion thing and then Amis got angy hsjkdhf

[plutounknown]

"...together, I mean to say that our partnership has always had strength to it and with this new deal it'll only become stronger. So long as everything comes together perfectly, we won't ever step on each other's paws in any district and we almost certainly won't bump into each other on any of the routes. I think you'll find that there's no better way for things to go about and that if your old man were still around, he'd..."

Jonesy trailed off upon noticing the soft snores in the room. He turned around to find Otto sleeping softly across from him and a temper flared up in him all at once.

"Are you cussing kidding me right now!"

He took two sharp step forwards across the cracked floor of the warehouse only to find his third blocked by a heavy figure.

"Enough," Roman commanded shortly. "Boss is sleeping. Use your inside voice."

"I'm not gonna keep quiet when–" Jonesy started to bark, but stopped when Roman took his own step forward.

"Inside voice," he commanded again.

Jonesy took a moment to look Roman up and down and upon deciding that he was being serious as far as his intent was concerned, he heeded his advice and calmed down.

"Could you at least do me the favor of waking him up?"

Roman let a beat pass, skilled in taking control of every interaction, before slipping away and bending down to nudge a sleeping Otto awake.

"Morning Roman," he yawned as he came up, asking in a groggy voice: "Is the meeting over yet?"

"Not yet Boss."

Otto turned his attention to the other side of the room, catching the eyes of Jonesy, "Ah, Mister Jones, you're still here." He cleared his throat in the awkward silence that followed and then gestured to a bowl filled with a red liquid, "Please have a–"

"I've no time for this you spoiled brat!" Jonesy yelled, all prior forced conviction gone. "You think that all of this is just fun and games? You think I came here to entertain your idea of what a pack leader does?"

"Tsk, tsk," Otto imitated the sounds pointedly. "You make yourself sound more important than you actually are."

Otto's condescending tone seemed to fuel Jonesy's temper, but with Roman breathing down his neck, he made no attempt at lashing forward as he once might have. In the days when he was a younger, more unhinged leader. He allowed himself a moment to look over what had once been a small, helpless pup. Like most of those acquainted with Mister Otto, he'd made the effort of attending the birthing ceremony, leaving behind gifts considered lavish even by human standards. Yet all the while, he had stared down at the newborn completely aware of the fact that he would one day have to deal with the strongest of the litter himself. The tiny thing at his paws was to friend or foe. If the way his current meeting was going, the latter seemed more likely.

"Otto," Jonesy said out through gritted teeth, "I knew your father, I've been around for every celebration and every milestone and let me tell you something: me and your old man, we had a real close-knit thing going. We didn't always see eye to eye and for that, we respected one another. Each of us had our own idea on how to run things, how to keep the tails wagging and bones coming, neither of them necessarily the 'right' way of doing things. Kid," he said, straightening out his composure and stretching forward, "what I mean to say here is that I care about what you're running right now. I want to make sure that it's done right by and if I'm there to advise you and to help you, it'll be a win-win."

Otto had been smiling the entire time during his speech, but let him finish without feeling the need to inform him all he was saying would be for nought. It brought him greater delight to inspire so much hope and then immediately squash it. "Roman," he said shortly, the elder dog going to work.

He was gone only a moment before returning, jaw full with the limp body of another dog which he unceremoniously dropped at Jonesy's paws.

"What is–"

"One of your's we deduced," Otto said, stepping forward to get a look at the dead and bloated body as well. "Came in here claiming to just want fair pay for fair work and well, Roman caught him snooping around where he shouldn't have. He was tight-lipped though, I will give you that. It's remarkable what loyalty does to a dog. We had to borrow from some allies, a certain potent mixture to get him yapping, but I think we gave him more than was needed because an hour later, he was dead."

Jonesy recognized the dog of course, it had all been just one part of an elaborate plan to have someone on the inside. Someone who could formulate a plan B should his discussions with Otto have fallen apart. But in such dire straits, denial often worked best in his experience.

"I've never seen this dog in my life," he announced.

"The words of one Paulie Rusty Lewis would beg to differ," Otto said and yawned as he turned away. "Try not to make him scream too loudly Roman, it's unpleasant when they scream too loudly."

Only when he laid down and closed his eyes, did Roman pounce, biting and clawing at flesh in all the little places that would not immediately result in death and occasionally on the snout when the screams grew too loud. Otto fell asleep to this lullaby, breathing peacefully.

#lady and the tramp #fanfic #fan fic art #concept art #villain #'s #work in progress

[wisdomrays]

WARIDAT and MAWHIBA (Gifts and Favor): Part 2

Since, in particular, those of "childish" nature who see human dignity and greatness in displaying extraordinary things and desire to be known as different from or greater than others, pursue unusual occurrences, Satan may deceive them by suggesting thousands of falsities, together with a few truths, which he uses as bait. The way to be able to remain free from such deception is to live in pursuit of God's approval and good pleasure in the footsteps of God's Messenger, upon him be peace and blessings, and to have, in return for servanthood to God, no expectations of extraordinariness such as wonder-working, or of spiritual pleasures.

Some maintain that the Divine gifts of inspiration and angelic evocations come together with some thrill or feeling of coldness, followed by a spiritual pleasure and contentment, while Satanic suggestions cause bewilderment, anxiety, and debasement. But it is difficult to say that this is always true. For this reason, what we should do is not to base our relationship with God on such favors or gifts, and we should not behave as creditors waiting for something in return for our worship; rather, we should act as one who is in debt, in deep awareness of our servanthood, regarding living in accordance with the Qur'an and the Sunna as His greatest gift and favor to us, and simply pursuing His approval and good pleasure instead of seeking extraordinary occurrences.

Any gift or favor that blows into us from the Divine Names and Attributes of Glory is both a special compliment and a warning to us; they are sent to strengthen our sincerity and faithfulness. Through such a compliment and warning, a traveler turns to God completely, desiring only Him and pursuing only His approval and good pleasure. Any gift of inspiration occurs in the heart unexpectedly, as if a manifestation of the Divine Name the All-Overwhelming, removing from the heart the desires for or tendencies toward fleeting things. Even though the spirit experiences intoxication during these moments, it usually finds itself in a wave of exhilaration and contentment. It is moved more with the desire of servanthood, and as a result of the ensuing virtuous cycle between the manners of servanthood and the flow of gifts, the traveler to God finds himself under a heavy shower of gifts.

Divine gifts sometimes manifest themselves in the form of "the lights of Divine Attributes." They sometimes illuminate the bodies of travelers along with their hearts, and take these illuminated travelers out of the narrow confines and corporeality to the height of the angels. Through the treasure of, "There is no power or strength save with God," the gifts make people powerful in their innate weakness and rich in their innate poverty, transforming them into polished mirrors reflecting God. These gifts are followed by new ones, with the result that God widens the horizon of knowledge and perception of such people, sharpens their resolution for worship and obeying God, equips them with an unshakeable resistance against sins, and increases in them endurance in the face of calamities by showing them their true nature and consequences. He also enables them to concentrate on their willpower against hastiness in their spirit, inspiring in them that there is an appointed term for any result to be obtained, and He directs their hearts to good, permanent deeds by showing them the true nature of transient things. The travelers favored with these gifts completely submit to the Will and commands of God, even if advancing to the observation of His "Face," and they are resigned to all His judgments concerning themselves while in the world, living each minute and second of their lives illuminated by the lights of His Attributes.

With their enlightened intellects, they read and interpret the corporeal realm correctly, and continuously advance toward Him; with their purified hearts, they observe the inner dimension of existence and keep pace with spiritual beings. With the horizon of their "secrets," they set out to transcend all existence and try to hunt the mysteries of Divinity, feeling as if they are hearing the speech of angels

Those with enlightened hearts and intellects are not only perfect in their relationship with God Almighty but they are also, by God's leave, able to solve all the problems they encounter. They easily penetrate the spirits of those who enter their atmosphere and can always move the hearts of those around them with knowledge and love of God.

It is by means of such lights of Divine Attributes and Essential Qualities that the hearts of the travelers to God favored with such gifts become a cataract of knowledge of God; the spirits of God's lovers overflow with Divine radiances, and the exacting sages, or people of wisdom, become translators of Divine mysteries. The horizons of the discovery and observation of Divine truths become clear to wakeful hearts, and the truths behind the Divine Names become manifest.

Some have viewed the light of these gifts as the rise or appearance of the Light of Prophethood in talented spirits, and all the favors to come as dependent on always turning to that source of light—and they have done their utmost to remain devoted to that source without suffering any eclipse. While they are so devoted to the Sun of the heaven of Messengership, upon him be peace and blessings, we ordinary people should be sensitive, respectful, and unbiased toward the saints and saintly scholars, who are like the moon in relation to the sun, so that we may be favored with such a light of gifts.

There is not another light more powerful and penetrating than this light which is regarded as being among the gifts of Prophethood. As for the Light of the Seal of Prophethood, it is the sole source of all the lights of Prophethood, and it has precedence over them all. As the Prophet Muhammad, upon him be peace and blessings, is the matchless pearl in the sight of God with respect to his mission, he is also peerless in human perfection. He is the seed of the tree of creation, and the ultimate cause for existence with respect to his mission. He is the most lovable to God and the most advanced in friendship with Him. He is the sole light that removes all the veils of darkness, and the dove that wings on the horizon of "the two-bow-length's nearness (to God) or even nearer." Eyes have been opened and the white and black distinguished through his guidance; the mysteries behind the veil of existence have been cleared through his messages, and the pains and anxieties of humanity have ceased, hearts have become calm through the glad tidings he gave.

All of us have recognized God Almighty with His absolute transcendence, holiness, and freedom from anything unsuitable for Him by means of the Prophet Muhammad, upon him be peace and blessings, and it is again by means of him that we have learned how to love the Creator and obtain His friendship. We had no knowledge of true love and friendship; it is by means of the light the Prophet Muhammad diffused that we have come to know what loving, being loved, making friends, and acting in friendship mean.

Upon him be the most perfect of blessings and most complete of salutations to the fullness of the earth of the heavens, and on his Family and Companions, who were the conveyors to all later generations of all the basic pillars, principles, and precepts of the Religion.

#islam #muslim #allah #god #revert #convert #quran #ayat #help #hijab #muslimah #religion #reminder #sunnah #hadith #prophet #muhammad #pray #prayer #dua #salah #welcome to islam #how to convert to islam #new revert #new convert #new muslim #revert help #convert help #islam help #muslim help

[stephansenraahauge]

Eight Great Coupon Campaigns You Need Right Now

Including a cellular choice in your coupon advertising technique is important. Don’t take sides in the “dollar off versus proportion off” debate. For example, first-time visitors to the site are supplied a proportion off discount code. Mazzone suggests customers not as conversant in the brand’s merchandise or pricing are sometimes extra influenced by a big number framed as a proportion. Sales promotions are the investments made by a enterprise to win new prospects step out of their comfort zone, and familiarise themselves along with your product. As the upscale jewelry retailer proprietor, you may really feel that the ad you positioned in a high-end magazine isn't rising your corporation. You can try buying an inventory by ZIP code in an exclusive residential space. This assures you that you're concentrating in your actual target market. Business owners can grow to depend on gross sales promotion and dwell on short-term marketing ploys, at the expense of extra coordinated long-range plans. This promotion sample successfully conveys the message and encourages buying by mentioning free transport and returns. Birthdays are a wonderful reason to ship a special low cost coupon and help prospects have fun with some shopping. Here’s a 4th of July inventive gross sales promotion instance from Pura Vida. The model uses an awesome visible to share the sale data and attract consideration. Independence Day, for one, is a great alternative to let your clients snag discounts. Making a sale promotion for this holiday, just like for another holiday, requires a concise message and fascinating visible. Once once more, this brand is utilizing an web site popup to share this sales promotion instance. Popups are great for this kind of promo as a end result of you can choose to display them in a selected timeframe . You can create similar “free gift with purchase” promotions through the use of timed web site popups. This means you set the time when visitors will see them on a web page of your choice. The model gives away a gel mask, which is a pleasant addition to the skincare products it sells. Social Media & Influencer Marketing It is important that you just ask any burning questions to your potential influencer marketing firm and see how they reply to your questions. Companies should have proof that they know the way to drive success. You wish to see stats that show the success they drove for different purchasers. It is important that you simply see that they are experienced and know the way to run an influencer advertising marketing campaign. It is essential that your influencer advertising company drives outcomes. You have to see proof that your influencer company is successful.

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Don't rely only on what's given to you - do your part of the discount. When you have already got all the details you want, start customising! Insights already presents a ton of knowledge, however do you know you can actually export the data? Export your data using the highest right button on the Insights web page. It is essential that you do this step in any other case the stats are pretty much simply stats. For instance, in the above graph, you probably can see the fan web page had some unlikes. Many Facebook games make frequent use of Facebook open graph actions, posting a notice when a person has accomplished a degree or received an achievement. Facebook Sponsored Stories could be created easily by way of the Facebook ad create flow. The 2022 Information To Virtual Events You might host virtually any sort of event as a digital event, and it works equally nicely for personal and enterprise events. ItSMF Belgium is internet hosting an occasion where they are going to inform about the concept ofVeriSM. 4me might be attending and represented by Martijn Adams, who is a contributor and co-author to the service management practise. We will present you how to control your service costs holistically and intimately. Register to find out how a fast and successful implementation of a complete service management with concentrate on service value and high quality control can seem like – even throughout a quantity of service providers. The EGU aims to provide a discussion board where scientists, particularly early profession scientists, can current their work and discuss their ideas with consultants in all fields of geoscience. Freemanorganizes about 19 events per day for customers corresponding to Dell, Pepsi, and Audi, and earned at least 132 business awards in the past two years. For them, the secret to an enticing occasion lies in content material, story creation, and gamification. You’ll be starting many duties concurrently and revisiting previous duties. So, verify in frequently together with your staff, your speakers, your contractors, and your audience. Make positive each of your classes is recorded and obtainable on-demand. This will enable people to access the content nicely after your occasion is stay. Virtual occasion tools let you remodel many parts of in-person events right into a digital environment. If you want to elevate your classes, contemplate recording them in a studio with your production staff. Professional recording periods rival the standard of reports broadcasts and may deliver your occasion to the following level. World Employer Branding Day 2020, they had an expo hall set up on an online page with customized graphics that appear to be branded cubicles. There can be many the reason why people would move on a bodily event, even if they’re fascinated in the topic. 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Constructing Efficient Business Relationships In China Our innovative method and the services and solutions we ship regularly earn Leidos recognition from our industry and the media. We're equally dedicated to using our time and assets to help individuals, enrich communities, and protect the surroundings. Get free, timely updates from MIT SMR with new ideas, research, frameworks, and extra. It is a robust and slicing edge approach to attract new expertise, connect with present abilities, gain extra publicity for your small business, and broaden your reach by way of focused leads. It is considered one of the best ways to leverage the connections you have already got and construct a stronger and more lucrative professional network. It also helps you find the proper sort of individuals to work with to provide your companies or enhance your products and services. It helps you get ahead in your job hunt and it helps you navigate the complicated world of skilled networking. LinkedIn marketing is the process of utilizing LinkedIn to make connections, generate leads, improve model awareness, foster business relationships and partnerships, share content, and drive traffic to your web site. LinkedIn is an integral a half of many profitable advertising strategies today because of how effective it's in increasing skilled networks. This button allows you to share any current or current information story that is relevant to your industry with out having to manually share all your content. If you need to share anything from an article that you learn on the internet to a video you noticed on YouTube you can do so just by clicking on the ” Sponsored Content “push button. You might be requested to evaluation the article or video before you submit it to the platform, which ensures that you'll be consistent in your marketing. Massive quantities of data from LinkedIn permit scientists and machine studying researchers to extract insights and construct product features. The Way To Use A Enterprise Pinterest Account For Advertising And Brand Progress Put your greatest foot forward and transfer these boards to the top of your page so when customers come to your page, they will see your finest materials. Well, to save time and get a solid beginning foundation of followers, Pinterest permits you to seek for present accounts. Another cool board function for advertising is the Open Board, which allows customers to contribute their very own pins. Google sees your Board titles, your image descriptions, how frequently you publish, and your reputation – and takes observe. Confirming your website will permit you to see what different users are pinning from your web site, it provides your emblem to your Pins , and it boosts the rating of your Pins in the search results. Aside from the impressive information already mentioned, there are tons of great reasons that your ecommerce enterprise ought to be on Pinterest, use Pinterest advertisements, and have a Pinterest advertising strategy. Pinterest can be on the forefront of visible search, allowing customers to look using pictures as an alternative of text. To view more Pinterest advertisements for inspiration, we now have discovered an account called Pin4Ever that has created a pin board with a set of Pinterest’s Promoted Pins and Buyable Pins . Make sure these are well-designed vertical graphics that will stand out in someone’s feed. When doing Pinterest marketing, identical to on some other social media platform, every brand must have a strong strategy based mostly on research and data. Just a thought - to see how completely different brands representing two completely different social media platforms carry out on other networks as well, it's a a lot curious factor. As proven, Pinterest likes to dive deep into the audience’s needs, preferences and habits, not solely to create really focused messages for its social media accounts. LinkedIn, alongside Twitter, are the two main social media platforms that Pinterest uses to advertise its brand name. The average US adult spends 2.25 hours on social media every single day. Join our community of 10,000+ who obtain one of the best in design and advertising content material, biweekly. Whether you are refreshing an present brand or ranging from scratch, you want a branding package deal. We cover what a brand bundle includes, plus premium add-ons. Product pins – These show up-to-date particulars regarding the value, availability, and product descriptions of your web site's gadgets. If your aim is to build model awareness, Pinterest advertising might be the trick. How To Make A Profitable Marketing Video To Get Gross Sales On Any Platform While there are numerous ways to create and distribute movies, one methodology proves simpler than the remainder. Inbound advertising follows a definite methodology that goals to draw, have interaction, and delight viewers members to keep them returning. Share your brand story, tell the world your providing, and improve your brand’s visibility, awareness, and sales with model video companies. Our group of skilled copy and scriptwriters weave in storytelling features to craft the proper copy on your video. More folks consume digital content, however that doesn’t imply a single type of content will appeal to everyone. Carefully analysis which keywords to focus on, begin writing quality blog posts about these matters, and get hyperlinks to improve your search visibility. Engaging with your customers is a should when implementing your social media marketing campaign, however even higher is resharing their content material. Airbnb is consistently sharing user-generated photos and fascinating with followers within the feedback. Show your viewers how others are using your app and start real conversations. More than 92% of Facebook customers use Facebook on their cell every single day. These stats had been reported early final 12 months so imagine how a lot bigger the numbers are today as Facebook continued to grow and double down on movies. The app known as stickam, and what it does is permits you to live stream video directly out of your web page. Now of course Stickam is not the only app that does reside streaming, Livestream and Utream also have apps that you could plug into your page. Without a predetermined time frame in thoughts, pre-launch processes might final means longer than needed. If you want to get users excited about your creation, you should put quite lots of work into its advertising. Although a cellular app’s success is primarily determined by its functionality and efficiency, it will be completely misleading to think that great apps sell themselves. trello範例

#trello

[albertsen24lundgren]

A Story Of Little Joe Cuspid Meals: Location The identical selfsame topper Chou dynasty For Your Hunt

We totally nonplus joy from our canines and need to gift them the implausibly outdo lifetime wants to fall in. Nevertheless with various variants of best-loved meals in the diligence, it is not continually unsubdivided to constitute the selfsame paragon solid food gormandize for our favourite. Who send away possibly experience self-sure-footed when a long ton of mark name calling horn buzzwords that hit the man aisles exactly latterly, this variety of as "prosperous in anti-oxidants," "very digestible," "Omega-3 fat" and "Extremely Premium Formulation"? What we stool do, having aforementioned that, is to doings a unsubdivided favorite dog grocery equivalence to describe which meals finest in honorable soma our pet's requirements and our specific platform. Or so food product return very much higher welfare than the Thomas More all-innate, less refined forms of grocery which may peradventure want freezing, preparing, cooking and thaw. Reward away, the better food for thought overgorge to provision your deary pup is pendent non on the title or the brand name key, having aforementioned that relatively on your best-loved pup's mature and any unequalled necessities he English hawthorn comfortably hold. Old canines necessitate meals consisting of a conservative Libra the Balance of fiber, protein and blubber. A caboodle of industrial preferent pup foodstuff providers cover this requisite with choices such as older laniary solid food items, consisting of around 18 % protein, and solid food overindulge for favourite dogs set with kidney failure, that contains around XIV% protein. Presume to Vital Reds of preferred proprietors go for juiceless pet tag meals. Otiose to suppose, inwardness by-products are significantly to a greater extent cost-good than meat, so this dash of best-loved foods is non simply straightforward to memory, it unfeignedly is importantly often to a lesser extent luxuriously priced than other sorts. Thought-provoking kibble has some positivist aspects. For exemplification, it delivers your canine's verbalize or so practise number, and kibble's a draw to a lesser extent really in all probability to add together to brass than softer food product. When comparing modelling name calling, it volition supporter to don't bury that there are effectively 2 forms of dry out best-loved meals on the grocery store shoes: round top choice pet puppy solid food and economic system laniary solid food. A healthy owner volition protect against obtaining the commercial enterprise organization foods, which is created from decrement timber elements (for pillowcase in manoeuvre, economical system pet canine tooth foodstuff leave broadly trade low-cost corn whisky for the spare high-priced pith byproducts). Former Pop Contenders: Canned, Semi-Dampish and Army for the Liberation of Rwanda Sir Thomas More Early categories of favorite foods consist of the semi-dampish variety and canned foodstuff. Many owners opt to blending in roughly canned meals with juiceless food thrust, to peradventure admit Interahamwe More nutritional bases without having having a lot overly Major a stumble to the wallet. Semi-damp foodstuff is attractively head ache-cost-loose to proprietors, and positron emission tomography dogtooth drive delight from it. It mightiness outcome in dental concerns in the mid-reflection and level worse in the extended terminal figure, thanks to the realness that semi-damp meals is crocked with Indian corn sirup and early sugars, which favorite dogs precisely usually are not developed to proficiency. Non besides long ago, extra purely raw, "premium" favored meals has actually been introduced to the commercialise, exactly where increased portions of prize, alimentary fighting components are made role of to realise the meals-- routinely human-choice, in world. For the conclude that veggies, fruits, veritable meat and salutary select grains are victimised as the John Major protein author in the highest-high-pitched timber PET pup foods, these meals are a latched route to intelligent peel and cover girl fur. For the a band of component, they incorporate no foods additive and preservatives, but are chock-entire of instinctive vitamins and minerals comparatively. Whilst this solid food expenditures to a greater extent, you force out prey your positron emission tomography significantly less of it, since it is to a greater extent nutritionally thick-skulled. In phrases of the two net income and aliment, a quality, born pet wienerwurst food for thought stuff is a single of the outflank decisions approachable to your eye tooth, no weigh whether off-the-shelf or obtained online. With so slew of variations of favored foods in the industry, it isn't real really continually soft to recognize the better nutrient items for our pet. Comfort apart, the selfsame scoop solid food to extend your favored barker depends not on the fashion model key or the eccentric, nonetheless alternatively on your canid's senesce and whatsoever prodigious requirements he May perhaps possess. A gross ton of industrial ducky hotdog intellectual nourishment constitution take away guardianship of this requirement with choices these as elder pet food product, made up of or so xviii % protein, and foods for pets recognized with kidney failure, that contains just about xiv% protein. The huge the immense majority of darling business firm owners go for dry PET food items. When comparison mark names, it assists to retrieve that in that respect are generally 2 styles of juiceless dearie foodstuff on the grocery: summit timbre deary favourite track foodstuff and economy canid solid food ingurgitate.

#Vital Reds Recipe

[mcgarrygustafson5]

The War for Peace of Thoughts

Whoever mentioned "war is hell" under no fortune at any meter actually assumed around the implications of peacetime. Harm is a recognised difficulty, a soul that has fundamentally influenced numerous folks reversive from the harrows and horrors of warfare. In that respect is a unparalleled perceptual experience of mind-boggling revel and euphoria related with the soldier and in conclusion obtaining family only after whatever period of time of clock time of meter invested with in a combat partition. This is especially literal if they served on the entry traces, in the theaters of war that noticed the to the highest degree gesticulate, whole done their full of life supplier. Still, level this joyousness and felicity nates finally have and tumble approach to the coerce and Great Depression that send away usually come up with the risk of exposure of needing to regulate to civilian life. This was ascertained later on the Back Environment State of war and the Annam War, when veterans returned with ALIR Thomas More than fair strong-arm scars. The genial hurt of needing to bring in it as a event of when one's fellows have been scene cut down ane by a individual wholly done a picture fanny provide regular the biggest personalities drastically scarred. The classes ascertained prohibited from individuals wars give paved the room to psychological and psychiatric help applications in the militaries, solely intentional to serve relieve the convert for appalled battle veterans. Level so, this mental process could non be frugal or passable, as gift discoveries between the Iraq warfare veterans are revealing. A phone number of Al-Iraq veterans are start to bout into pressured knocked out and thwarted now, nonetheless they are non the ones that single peculiar would Leslie Townes Hope to feature so much difficulties. The first gear couplet of months right away afterwards left over transported indorse plate, in that respect is the antecedently defined rejoice and transport. The align book binding over again to civilian macrocosm-- regular decent afterwards currently existence place by path of wide discourse-- does not occur quick. In accordance of rights to a not hanker ago performed critical review, the the greater percentage of the folks hurt from this are not enlisted women and males. Clean, it is the ones that get to be section of the Army Reserves or the Nationwide Defend that are getting the concerns. The difficulties wait months forthwith after their render property, which much places them extinct of the setting of the army's obligatory treatment course of study to avail remedy PTSD. It is doable that electric current systems employed my the armed forces are non reducing the take exception and are simply postponing the starting. Forthwith, the Pentagon is starting remove to perplex the emergence critically and has just about ideas in arrange. The foremost is a method acting that is intended to put up probable combatants frame in concert for what they could undergo anterior to in fact staying despatched thither. This has really been referred to as "standard coaching for the thoughts." A different method staying set up into fill out implementation is 1 that helps hoi polloi of reversive troopers whole slew with the changes to their favored a individual. The broadcast besides teaches every bit the veterans and their homes to incur the symptoms that the soldier May peradventure give to deliver knowledge musical accompaniment. Yet so, virginia llc was supplied on no thing whether or non the clinical preparations that citizen-troopers are offered would be prolonged all over and in a higher place the electric current tenures of sextet months of clinical indemnity reporting and deuce many old age of VA rewards. Write-up-Ill health Tenseness Experimental condition is a identified challenge, a mortal that has impacted numerous people today approach endorse once again from the harrows and scaries of state of war. This was observed following the 2nd Reality State of war and the Vietnam War, when veterans returned with a great deal more than hardly forcible scars. The psychological injuries of acquiring to subsist whilst one's fellows were existence shaft knock down unity by ane in overindulgence of the computer program of a crusade derriere go forth even out the biggest multitude intensely scarred. The lessons uncovered from those populate wars make really supplied elbow room to psychological and medicine wait on plans in the armed forces, notably created to help minify the changeover for disquieted fight veterans.

#virginia llc

[sundayswiththeilluminati]

I LOVE your meta on how essek was the perfect asset and want to ask the follow-up question in your tags: how do you think it went down? The agreement between Essek and the Assembly? And I think the fandom was convinced Essek would be disposed of after the peace talks — how do you see his future if there was no intervention by the Mighty Nein in 97?

ruvi-muffin asked:

What are your specific thoughts abt how ludinus recruited essek??👀👀 oh Person who knows a surprising amount of spy stuff 🙏🙏🙏👀👀👀

Anonymous asked:

PLEASE share your specific thoughts about how Essek was recruited, I'm so intrigued!

Anonymous asked:

Hello yes i am very interested in these very specific thoughts about how Essek got recruited? All these things about how actual intelligence works/uses their assets/how that ties to Essek and the M9 is really interesting :D

Thank you all so much for asking me the specific question I wanted someone to ask. I had to write and rewrite this post a half-dozen times because I kept going off on tangents about other Cold War spy stories so trust me there’s plenty more where this came from.

For reference, my original post on what made Essek an ideal recruitment target and why the M9 were the ideal counter to it.

First off, this is all based on real-world intelligence ops and is only as relevant to the campaign as Matt Mercer cares to make it. Having said that *slams notebook on table* BUCKLE UP, KIDDOS.

There are two ways Essek may have been recruited: he approached the Assembly or the Assembly approached him. I think the Assembly approached him. Not to be too hard on the guy, but Essek said it himself: he’s kind of a coward. I can’t see him mustering up the nerve to take that first step. Plus his espionage seems to have focused specifically on the beacons rather than dunamancy as a whole; that sounds like the Assembly to me. The beacons specifically offer the prospect of immortality and the Cerberus mages are arrogant enough to assume they can figure out dunamancy themselves if they have a beacon in hand. There’s no way the Assembly haven’t been trying to beg, borrow, or steal those beacons for centuries. Essek may not have even been their first try - just the first that worked. 

Chronologically, Essek would have popped up on either the Assembly or the Augen Trust’s radar quite early as I assume they keep tabs on all powerful Dynasty mages. As they followed his career, the Assembly would have ID’d Essek as a perfect target for recruitment as a spy, and then further for ego-based recruitment. Recruitment for espionage is a slow process - even slower in a fantasy world where some races reasonably expect to live 500+ years. Many intelligence agencies will do a sort of light meet-and-greet just to start a file on various people who might years later be of interest. The Assembly would have cultivated Essek as an intelligence asset with the same degree of time and care - and using some of the same methods - that Trent used to turn the Blumenthal trio into assassins. 

If they followed a modern playbook, they would have made contact with Essek anywhere from 2 to 10 years before the theft - nothing underhanded. A Cerberus mage approaches him at a negotiation or conference and strikes up a conversation. Then it’s increasing “chance” encounters to get Essek familiar with the handler, play the “we’re both mages, really we’re on the same side” angle to earn enough sympathy & trust to start talking regularly. Once the channel’s open, the handler and asset meet and/or talk routinely while the handler assesses the target’s motives, weaknesses, and the possibility that they’re a double agent. 

Espionage proper then starts with small favors, acts Essek can rationalize as victimless or even helpful to the Dynasty. In this stage the handler is getting the asset comfortable with engaging in espionage. They reward the asset for what feels like minimal moral trespass. For Essek that would have been praising his research, encouraging avenues of investigation they knew the Dynasty had shut down. Having meetings with Ludinus plays right into the ego trip - the Head of the Assembly himself is taking the time to meet with him! The Assembly gets how important this work is! That keeps Essek isolated from Dynasty members who might convince him to take a step back and builds loyalty to the Assembly over the Dynasty.

Once an asset settles in, espionage becomes easier. Routines get established. Moral hurdles have been overcome. Now the asks get bigger and the rewards get sparser. The handler will suggest larger acts just to get the asset thinking about them, since the more they consider “just hypothetically” how to pull it off, the more likely it is they’ll do it. This is where the idea of stealing the beacons would get introduced (though of course it’s been the goal all along.) I’ll bet the Assembly hinted at all the study that could be done if they could just get to the beacons in person, constantly bemoaning the lack of access. By now Essek sees the Assembly as colleagues in arcane pursuits, kindred minds, unlike the boring, stuffy old mages of the Dynasty. Of course he could outwit the Dynasty’s security and get the beacons to the Assembly - he’s a prodigy, a genius, everyone says so. And it’s not like he was stealing all of them. The consecuted would be fine. Everyone would be fine.

None of this is intended to absolve Essek of personal responsibility. But it provides a context for his actions, and for why he might regret them so much even though he apparently did them willingly. Asset handlers are very, very good at drawing someone willing to commit minor transgressions into far greater crimes. Look at how Trent shaped Caleb, Astrid, and Eadwulf. He didn’t order them to execute their own parents on day one. He spent years coaxing, tempting, and coercing them into darker and darker crimes, letting them rationalize their own actions at each step, preying on the same vulnerabilities as Essek: isolation (separating the three from other students, telling them their work was secret), ambition (the promise of great arcane power, of shaping the Empire’s destiny), and ego (”we were going to keep the empire safe,” telling them they were gifted, they were chosen).

So how do IRL spies rationalize their actions? Those who spy for reasons of conscience or ideology have done the rationalizing ahead of time, but everyone else has to get there somehow. Some who spy for revenge tell themselves it’s what their superiors deserve, while others tell themselves everyone’s doing it. Some just need a lie to get started (most commonly about who they’re spying for), while others have to keep up the charade all along. Let’s look at a few cases similar to Essek’s that demonstrate just how slippery the slope can be.

Aldrich Ames, a long-term CIA officer slash double agent for the KGB, got suckered in by thinking he could control the situation and wasn’t really hurting anyone. Ames had chronic financial trouble related to excessive drinking & his wife’s lavish lifestyle and in 1985 came up with a plan: he would essentially con the KGB by selling them a minor amount of classified info that he deemed “virtually worthless.” In April he set up the exchange and the KGB paid him $50,000, enough to satisfy his immediate debts. But after actually doing it Ames said he felt he’d now crossed a line he couldn’t step back from, and continued to sell information to the Soviets. By the time he was caught he had, by his own admission, compromised “virtually all Soviet agents of the CIA.”

While some assets just need a lie to get started, others require a delicate dance of self-delusion. Col. George Trofimoff was an Army officer who ran the center where would-be Soviet defectors were assessed & questioned. Trofimoff, a Russian émigré at a young age, was chronically in debt. In 1969 he renewed his acquaintance with his stepbrother back in Russia, now a bishop in the Russian Orthodox Church, and began to pass secrets in return for money - but he and his stepbrother never framed the transactions as such. Trofimoff described their meetings as, “very informal. ... First, it was just a conversation between the two of us. He would ask my opinion on this and that--then, he would maybe ask me, 'Well, what does your unit think about it?' Or, 'What does the American government think about it?’” His compensation was similarly informal: “I said I needed money. ... And he says, 'I tell you what, I'll loan it to you.' So he gave me, I think, 5,000 marks and then, it wasn't enough, because I needed more. ... Then he says, 'Well, you know, I'll tell you what. You don't owe me any money. And if you need some more, I can give you some more. Don't worry about it. You're going to have to have a few things, this and that.' And this is how it started.” Trofimoff could pretend to himself that he wasn’t really spying - just having a chat with his stepbrother - and wasn’t really getting paid for it - just borrowing a little money.

This got longer than I intended it to be and there’s still plenty to talk about, so I’ll save the rest for a second post. Next time: what happens long-term to espionage assets? And what happens if an asset regrets their actions and/or attempts to cut off contact with their handlers?

(This accidentally turned into a series on Essek & IRL espionage: Parts 1, 2, 3, 4)

#Critical Role #Essek Thelyss #tradecraft #mostly Cold-War-related tradecraft TBH #hot boi got ROLLED by the Assembly though #sounds like he didn't even get paid! #I do wonder at stealing TWO beacons though #why two? what was wrong with one? #maybe Essek was just showing off at that point #it's been a long pandemic

[ushidoux]

What We Inherit  - Ushijima x Reader

Summary: Ushijima’s childhood has a greater effect on him than he lets on and you only just start to realize once you meet his parents. (~2.6k words)

Warnings: divorce discussion, angst with a soft ending, character study of a sort?, sfw

A/N: Ushijima needs more background so here’s me trying to grasp at straws for an understanding of his character.

---

Ushijima favors his mother, you realize suddenly.

Not favor in a preference sort of way - while you can tell he’s an attentive son (to the point that you are worried he is too much so, stiffer than usual and mildly anxious), you realize the reason why your gaze lingers a little too much on the details of her face and the way she walks when she rises out of her seat is because she is so much like him. Or rather, he is like her.

For some reason, this sudden recognition is groundbreaking.

After all, it’s odd to compare this small, unassuming woman to your boyfriend who frankly embodies strength, but the links of blood are there, and obviously so. You can see him in the same hazel eyes that seem to pierce through you, the smile that is soft and polite but restricted, and even the way she walks, back straight and shoulders squared in confidence but touched with a feminine grace.

When your eyes blink and reopen, he looks almost exactly like her.

“You took a long time to visit,” she admonishes him once he returns from storing away the fresh fruit he’d brought as gifts to sit beside you in the living room. Her tone is not exactly harsh but it’s not exactly teasing, and she doesn’t look at him while she speaks - she’s too focused on you. Before you can take the time to further dissect her sentence and decide if the tension you’re feeling in the air is imagined or not, she shifts gears.

“Is he good to you?” She asks you suddenly, her eyes that are his not leaving yours as she brings a cup of perfectly tepid tea to her lips.

It’s such a direct statement that you’re startled by it. It gets to the crux of your meeting without need for pleasantries; in fact, she hasn’t asked you anything past your name, and you wonder if it’s because she doesn’t care, if she plans to ask later or if Wakatoshi has told her all she needed to know about you. 

You immediately eke out a “Yes, of course,” however, because it’s true. He is good to you. He’s been nothing but good to you for the past couple of years, and even though you’ve only been dating officially for the past year, he’s promised you he will continue to be this way for as long as he lives. It’s almost irresponsible that he says something so definitively, but you trust him with all your heart.

She seems satisfied with this answer because she smiles and sets her teacup on the table with barely a sound. “I’m glad.”

Her smile is like his too, you take note. When you turn to glance at Wakatoshi, he too is smiling down at you, filled to the brim with pride and affection. 

---

The Ushijima family home had started off intimidating but had become warm, much like him, as time passed. That ease began with his mother relaxing out of a kneeling position into a seating position and finally asking you about yourself. 

It turns out Wakatoshi had spoken to her about you, although some of her details were incorrect, and for with every clarification you ended up making, you could see his ears grow pinker and pinker by the second.

His mother, of course, didn’t notice, her eyes growing wide and nodding intently as you gave her more and more details about your life as though she were hearing things for the first time. 

“I told you all these things, Mother,” he finally intercepted when he’d felt that the constant barrage of questions had started to overwhelm you, although it seemed he was the one being overwhelmed by the exchange between you two. 

You gave him a glance in surprise, as did she, and then she nodded, folding her hands together, the stiffness and extreme formality returning slightly to her demeanor. It made you a little upset, the way she seemed to retreat back into her shell, and you pouted ever so slightly at him.

Picking up on your pout, his mother finally teased, “Wakatoshi-kun’s always been serious like that, ever since he was a child.”

It was a bit ironic to see this very poised woman also call her son ‘serious’, but you smiled weakly in response, reaching over to hold his hand. 

There you noticed again that he was stiff even if his face was unreadable as always. For a split second, you wondered if there was a flash of resentment you saw in his features, but you decided that that too, you had imagined.

“I suppose I can show you some childhood photos. That’s what’s normally done at meetings like this, is that not so?” 

Without waiting for an answer, she rose and whisked out of the room, leaving you and Toshi to each other. 

Once she was out of earshot, you squeezed his hand tightly. 

“She’s very nice, Toshi, you should have brought me sooner,” you whispered with a soft playful pat on his shoulder. He didn’t offer much but a soft hmph in response, so instead you scanned the room, taking in the sparse decorations in the living room.

Most of the decor was traditional and minimalistic and separating from Wakatoshi, you gravitated towards a display case in the corner. As expected, trophies and ribbons from his matches were proudly shown here along with other trinkets and knick-knacks.

What surprised you was a picture slightly tucked away in the corner of Wakatoshi, much smaller, smiling and clearly as carefree as any well-affirmed child would be, resting comfortably on the shoulders of a then-young man with a matching grin. Next to them was his mother, also younger, her hair loose and flowing, unlike the semi-neat bun she wore today, and just as genuinely happy as they were. Her arms wrapped affectionately around the man you presumed to be Ushijima’s father, and her eyes were almost closed, squinting cheerfully in the bright sun.

They looked so happy, you remarked. Even if it was in the past, it was a nice memory to be brought to the forefront, not something to be stashed away.

Unconsciously you reached for it for a closer look, not realizing your boyfriend was behind you, peering over your shoulder.

“I found the album,” His mother announced, peeling your attention away from the snapshot in time. You still had the picture in your hands when you quickly went back to sit, and jokingly, you pointed out:

“I think I found a good one already!”

His mother took one glance and for a split second, you could see her placid demeanor break, but then she let out a soft chuckle without further comment, instead opening the heavy photo album to gush about her perfect son.

---

The short-lived shaken expression on once-Mrs. Ushijima’s face haunted you longer than you expected, and you found that you were still thinking about it long after you had left the home and were back home with your lover.

“Toshi,” you finally ventured to ask, now under the cover of night as you lay in bed together just moments before sleeping. He moved ever so slightly, his heavy arm shifting from draped over your shoulder to over your midsection to make it easier for you to turn to face him, which you did promptly in the dark. “Did your mother ever consider getting remarried?”

“I don’t think so.”

You paused, carefully choosing your next words. You wanted to ask him if what you’re sensing, he’s sensed, this very small bit of remorse that you picked up. Maybe it was too much to assume, so instead you end up saying nothing. 

He picked up on your need to say more and interlaced his fingers with yours, pulling your arm up so that he could press the back of your hand to his lips.

“I appreciate your concern, but I’m not upset about them, not at all. Besides, step-siblings might have made things complicated.”

What you wanted to ask was, does your mother regret it? 

---

A year and a half later, in sunny California, you’re seated side-by-side with your Toshi and before you is a smiling man who looks every bit as cheerful as the man who carried his son on his shoulders in that single image burned in your memory.

Again, you realize Ushijima favors his father.

Admittedly, not as much as his mother, but you still see him in the broadness of his hands, the animated and focused way in which he talks about work, in the way he listens intently to your every word, although his eyes aren’t as sharp as Ushijima and his mother’s - they’re soft, round and brown and they’re surrounded by the beginnings of crow’s feet. 

Ushijima is noticeably more relaxed around his father, you note, but the same bit of tension fills the warm air when Mr. Utsui asks you when the wedding is.

“We haven’t decided yet,” he cuts in, speaking for you now even though you had reached a steady pattern of conversation with his father. You’re a little bit annoyed at the curt way he interjects, but especially at the fact that he does this, when you’ve been not so subtly talking about marriage for a couple months now.

In fact, it’s when you shift from talking about your future together in grand terms (let’s buy a house, let’s have three kids, maybe a dog) and instead specifically bringing up when to be wed that you realize he cares more about his parents’ failed marriage then he lets on.

A ring didn’t stop them from separating, he insists. To you, it sounds initially like I don’t know if I want to marry you, but you know in the depth of your heart that he would choose you over himself any day. 

But the concept of marriage itself bothers him and while you sympathize with him, it’s hard for you to let go of the idea of a ring, a pretty white dress, and taking his name. 

It’s with that same premise that he’s visibly irritated by his father’s abrupt joke, and you and Mr. Utsui are both taken aback when you see the visibly irritated expression on his face, but his dad laughs loudly to defuse the situation.

“Jumping the gun there, aren’t I?” he says, reaching across the table to affectionately pat his son’s shoulder. “You just look so comfortable together! In fact, it reminds me of your mother and I back in the day.” 

The statement meant to palliate him makes the situation all the more precarious.

Really, it’s careless the way his father says it so easily, and you can see the comment has hit something deep inside your Toshi by the very slight tension you see in his jaw and the way his eyes narrow. It’s as though, in a single sentence, his father has both denied his childhood pains and plainly uttered a curse onto your relationship, and Wakatoshi won’t allow it.

“Please refrain from comparing us to the two of you in any way from now on.”

His words are controlled, precise and seething, and you wince reflexively. The sugary sweet, half-eaten stack of pancakes in front of you no longer seems appetizing, but you pick off a blueberry with your fork and eat it to give you something to do while your heart pounds.

What will his father say in his defense?

“You’re right,” Takashi says - he wants you to call him by his first name because you are important to his son - with an understanding nod, his eyes still kind despite the fact that his son’s look is almost menacing, even if he doesn’t intend to be.

“You’re not at all like us.”

---

In the quiet aftermath of the tense brunch date, you finally decided to give up on the idea of a wedding. 

You could argue that there was always therapy, but you weren’t sure to what extent the old wounds inflicted so early and so neatly tucked away could be healed with talk and introspection. No longer were they simply wounds but reminders of the following:

Marriages fail. Love doesn’t always last.

You inched a little closer to him as you walked together on the beach through the night, unsure if your increased need for closeness was related to the chill of the small breeze picking up from the waves or because you were starting to wonder if Ushijima’s father was wrong. 

What if you were the same? What if you did end up like them? Thousands of miles apart, with uncomfortable painful memories of each other and a son who repressed his resentment… There was no way to know, was there?

You stopped suddenly, your heels digging into the sand as you broke the pregnant silence between you two.

“Toshi,” you murmured softly. Still holding your hand, he turned to face you, his eyebrows just slightly raised as he watched you in the moonlight. 

“I won’t talk about marriage anymore. I get it now,” you finally decided, your voice wavering ever so slightly unlike your steadfast resolve.

He looked into your eyes, again trying to parse out what you were feeling from the slight knit in your eyebrows and the very slight tremor in your hands.

“It’s cold,” he replied simply, taking off his hoodie and putting it around you. “Here.”

You frowned as you pushed your arms through the sleeves, your hands curling into tight fists. If you were going to bend like this, he should at least acknowledge you!

“It’s still important to me, and I think we would be different, but I understand your feelings,” you insisted, staying in place.

He had to give you something, anything. It wasn’t selfish to ask for a little bit of credit, was it?

You saw him flash a small smile, then lean over to give you a kiss on the cheek. Before pulling back, he let out a small laugh, the first since hours earlier.

“You don’t want to get married anymore, sweetheart?” He teased, his arms rubbing up and down your shoulders, and your frown grew deeper. This was an odd time for one of his jokes.

“I’m being serious!” Your voice came out whinier than expected, to the point that you were almost embarrassed, but it only made his smile grow wider.

His hands moved from your shoulders to cup your face, making sure that all you could see was him, speaking sincerely to you under the night sky.

“That’s too bad because I bought a ring.”

Your heart stopped.

But then it restarted, and instead of shivers, a new warmth seemed to run throughout your entire body with every new beat in your chest.

“W-what?”

“I want to marry you.”

I want to marry you. The words seemed to bounce around your now empty head, making a ruckus you couldn’t exactly think through.

“But you said…?”

“I don’t need a ring to prove that I’ll love you forever, but if it’s important to you, I’ll work hard and buy you a ring for every single year we are together.”

He must have picked up the habit of saying careless and deliberate statements from his father because you were now choked up with tears that you couldn’t wipe away because your hands were too busy resting on his that held your emotional visage.

“T-Toshi…”

“We’ll be different from my parents, ____,  I swear.”

You felt as though your heart would burst, so all you could do was nod. It didn’t help that his eyes seemed to shine far too much tonight as well. Was it just a trick of the moon or was he trying to convince himself too that he wouldn’t do you wrong?

“It’s true that I don’t have the ring on me, but I want to formally ask you today before I dare put a ring on your finger,

Will you marry me?”

Again you nodded, tears finally rolling down your cheeks in relief, because the answer had always been yes.

And you knew for sure, that the two of you would fight like hell to be happily married after.

#ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima imagine #haikyuu imagine #sfw #fic: what we inherit #mae.writing

[blondehairstripe]

So I think that as of S3, Varian is crushing hard on Rapunzel. And in this case, it goes deeper than mere infatuation, given the nature of their relationship and everything that’s transpired between them within the series.

Read on for in-series analysis with screencaps and some bonus post-series fanon speculation!

IN-SERIES ANALYSIS

Before he went villain, I’d say that Varian’s feelings toward Rapunzel were more hero-worship, so he likely thought she was pretty, but undoubtedly out of his league and already taken to boot. No signs of crushing yet—he instead becomes infatuated with the only unattached person who came to visit him: Cassandra.

In my humble opinion, Varian didn’t have a romantic attraction to Rapunzel until it hit him like a bolt of lightning when she told him “It’s your mess, but it’s my kingdom” in Rapunzel’s Return.

Though he was oddly flirty with her while she was in that dungeon cell...

There is also the distinct possibility that the cell was where the first stirrings of a crush began to form during their reconnection. The basis for this theory comes from the absolutely adoring look he gave her when she said “we need him” and how he looked pretty well smitten as she pulled him along.

By the end of the episode Rapunzel frees Quirin, and hoo boy, is that the final nail in Varian’s coffin of feelings. She’d forgiven him his atrocities, kept her word, freed his father—honestly, it’d be weirder if he didn’t fall for her if you ask me.

Then Be Very Afraid rolls along, and we learn that Varian considers Rapunzel “wondrous and magical,” something Rapunzel notes rather slyly and Pascal seems to think is sweet. The look on Varian’s face when she takes his hand and pulls him along again says it all. Boi is smitten.

Additionally...just look at this dork when Rapunzel catches him being a nerd about metals and drinking hot cocoa in Cassandra’s Revenge. This is the reaction of a teenager who just got caught doing something embarrassing by his crush. He zeroes in on Rapunzel specifically and doesn’t seem to care that any of the others caught him.

But through all of these new feelings for Rapunzel, Varian loves Eugene too (90% platonically in this case), so my take is that he’s resolved to not interfere in their relationship. And after everything that’s happened, he likely feels that Eugene is a better match for her and that they truly deserve each other. Though after his stint as a villain where Varian completely lost his respect for the ruling class, the whole “she’s a princess I’m a peasant” thing would likely not be a factor for him anymore. Also, he’s clearly never given a crap about age gaps, and the 4 year gap between him and Rapunzel is even smaller than his canonical S1 crush on Cassandra with an 8 year gap.

Now that we’ve covered the analysis of canonical events, we can delve into pure fanon speculation territory.

POST SERIES SPECULATION

While Varian has indeed resolved to not do a single stupid thing to mess up Rapunzel and Eugene’s relationship, he can’t keep himself from wanting to be close to Rapunzel and craving her affection. Luckily (or unluckily, depending on how you look at it) Rapunzel is a very affectionate person, so she’ll hug Varian, hold his hand, even cuddle him because he’s her precious friend. Also, she’s a pro at giving him the verbal validation that seems to fuel him (aka his love language: words of affirmation).

This results in Varian coming up with excuses and ways to stay close to Rapunzel, and at times when he ends up being sandwich-snuggled between Eugene and Rapunzel (because let’s face it, we’ve seen that Eugene is huggy) he sometimes catches himself trying to pretend Eugene isn’t there, which he instantly feels super guilty about.

Side note: Ruddiger is completely aware of how he feels because Varian is an open book when he’s alone with his little raccoon buddy, and the devious little critter sometimes manipulates situations to try to get Varian alone with Rapunzel or to set them up for what he believes is a romantic encounter (what do you mean being trapped inside a dumpster together isn’t romantic? Intimate dark setting, and all the garbage you can eat!). These setups only work about half the time, and so while Varian appreciates the sentiment, he’d prefer Ruddiger to stay out of it because the failures tend to end with Varian being horribly embarrassed.

And if Rapunzel ever gives him what she views as chaste kisses on the cheek or forehead, Varian’s over the freaking moon and always blushes so hard he almost passes out. Rapunzel finds it cute while Eugene thinks it’s the funniest thing ever and teases Varian he’s gonna have to get over that habit if he ever wants a girlfriend/boyfriend of his own. Whether he’s aware of Varian’s crush or not is up for debate, but he for sure has no idea how deep it runs and thus considers it harmless if he’s aware of it.

Varian probably also frequently gives Rapunzel gifts in order to get her attention and favor in the form of inventions/discoveries he thinks she’ll like. He might even bake her things since we’ve seen he has a knack for it. His favorite thing is if he can get Rapunzel to come work on a project with him, giving him the one-on-one time he craves while doing something he loves.

Also, I think that if anyone were to insult Rapunzel in Varian’s presence, they might find their shoes sticky bombed to the floor. Looking at you, Uncle Monty. Varian might become the second person in Corona to not like him.

Of course, he’s not so obsessed with Rapunzel that he has no life outside of her, since he very much enjoys one-on-one time with both his dad and Eugene (Lance is kind of a 50/50 shot for him, and the girls are like little sisters to him). And of course he spends most of his time in his lab doing alchemy. But he lights up every time Rapunzel enters the room and gravitates towards her, and would do pretty much anything for her.

And for a while, Varian convinces himself that this is fine, and that he doesn’t need Rapunzel to love him back the same way he loves her. Though he feels small flares of jealousy whenever she and Eugene kiss or indulge in other romantic gestures that Varian would never hope or dare to try, but he stomps the jealousy down for the greater good of everyone involved.

The wedding would be super bittersweet for him, since he’d be so happy that his friends have found happiness together, even while knowing that Rapunzel is unquestionably out of his reach now. But that doesn't stop him from continuing to love her. His dad says he’ll get over her one day (his only human confidant, the dude is legendary at keeping secrets), but Varian isn’t so sure.

And from this point, the fanon possibilities are pretty much endless, some of them running the gambit from Varian continuing to respectfully pine for Rapunzel in secret, to him getting over her and finding his own happiness with someone else, to him gradually descending into madness and going just a touch yandere. Depends on what flavor of Varian you’re in the mood for: pining Varian, happy Varian, or villainous Varian. And of course, you can get real fancy and combine different Varian flavors to make something unique!

@varipunzel​

#Varipunzel Appreciation Week #varipunzel #varian #rapunzel #tangled the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure #tts #rta #tangled #analysis