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#art DID describe It as a ward

neechees · 12 days

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Historical Indigenous Women & Figures [6]:

Queen Nanny: the leader of the 18th century Maroon community in Jamaica, she led multiple battles in guerrilla war against the British, which included freeing slaves, and raiding plantations, and then later founding the community Nanny Town. There are multiple accounts of Queen Nanny's origins, one claiming that she was of the Akan people from Ghana and escaped slavery before starting rebellions, and others that she was a free person and moved to the Blue Mountains with a community of Taino. Regardless, Queen Nanny solidified her influence among the Indigenous People of Jamaica, and is featured on a Jamaican bank note. Karimeh Abboud: Born in Bethlehem, Palestine, Karimeh Abboud became interested in photography in 1913 after recieving a camera for her 17th birthday from her Father. Her prestige in professional photography rapidly grew and became high demand, being described as one of the "first female photographers of the Arab World", and in 1924 she described herself as "the only National Photographer". Georgia Harris: Born to a family of traditional Catawba potters, Harris took up pottery herself, and is credited with preserving traditional Catawba pottery methods due to refusing to use more tourist friendly forms in her work, despite the traditional method being much more labour intensive. Harris spent the rest of her life preserving and passing on the traditional ways of pottery, and was a recipient of a 1997 National Heritage Fellowship awarded by the National Endowment for the Arts, which is the highest honor in the folk and traditional arts in the United States. Nozugum: known as a folk hero of the Uyghur people, Nozugum was a historical figure in 19th century Kashgar, who joined an uprising and killed her captor before running away. While she was eventually killed after escaping, her story remains a treasured one amongst the Uyghur. Pampenum: a Sachem of the Wangunk people in what is now called Pennsylvania, Pampenum gained ownership of her mother's land, who had previously intended to sell it to settlers. Not sharing the same plans as her mother, Pampenum attempted to keep these lands in Native control by using the colonial court system to her advantage, including forbidding her descendants from selling the land, and naming the wife of the Mohegan sachem Mahomet I as her heir. Despite that these lands were later sold, Pampenum's efforts did not go unnoticed. Christine Quintasket: also known as "Humishima", "Mourning Dove", Quintasket was a Sylix author who is credited as being one of the first female Native American authors to write a novel featuring a female protagonist. She used her Sylix name, Humishima, as a pen name, and was inspired to become an author after reading a racist portrayal of Native Americans, & wished to refute this derogatory portrayal. Later in life, she also became active in politics, and helped her tribe to gain money that was owed them. Rita Pitka Blumenstein: an Alaskan Yup'ik woman who's healing career started at four years old, as she was trained in traditional healing by her grandmother, and then later she became the first certified traditional doctor in Alaska and worked for the Alaska Native Tribal Health Consortium. She later passed on her knowledge to her own daughters. February 17th is known as Rita Pitka Blumenstein day in Alaska, and in 2009 she was one of 50 women inducted into the inaugural class of the Alaska Women's Hall of Fame Olivia Ward Bush-Banks: a mixed race woman of African American and Montaukett heritage, Banks was a well known author who was a regular contributor to the the first magazine that covered Black American culture, and wrote a column for a New York publication. She wrote of both Native American, and Black American topics and issues, and helped sculptor Richmond Barthé and writer Langston Hughes get their starts during the Harlem Renaissance. She is also credited with preserving Montaukett language and folklore due to her writing in her early career.

part [1], [2], [3], [4], [5] Transphobes & any other bigots need not reblog and are not welcome on my posts.

#native american #indigenous #women #historyedit #history #ndnedit #historicaledit #gifedit #justin's edits

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2chopsticks2eyes · 1 year

Text

Obsession

2chopsticks2eyes - Masterlist

Pairing:

Bang Chan x Fem Reader

Hwang Hyunjin x Fem Reader

Themes: Smut, Pining

Word Count: ~6k | AO3

Warnings: Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Cussing, Oral Sex, Hand Jobs, Vaginal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Vaginal Sex, Cum Eating, Pining, Protected Sex, Ambiguous/Open Ending

Summary: You find out that this new guy you are going to start dating, Chris, is your best friend's new roommate. You are excited, but your best friend, Hyunjin (who may or may not be madly in love with you) is not so thrilled. Chris notices this and the two men settle on some sort of... agreement.

Author's Note: This work was inspired by a request from @stayandot8. I think this might be the shortest fic I've written, but I promise I put my heart into it! 💖 Proofread was only skimmed over so I hope it isn't trash. 🙃

__________________________________________

Hyunjin had been your best friend for what felt like ages. However, in reality, you two only met a couple of years ago when you started teaching with him at an art studio. You bonded with him over your shared affinity with fine arts and it was the most natural friendship you had ever experienced. You were just simply comfortable with one another.

Some might say a bit too comfortable. At least for a friendship between a boy and a girl.

Since you were co-workers, you spent most of your time with the man. You would have your meals with him, spent your days off with him, and even spent some nights at each other’s places if one of you was too lazy to go home for the night.

You don’t think that there was anything you wouldn’t be comfortable with around him. That’s what lead you to ask him to come shopping with you for your new date.

“How long have you even been talking to this guy?” He said as he stole your coffee from your hands while you strolled through the outlet mall, looking for a place to shop. He emptied the contents of the drink and tossed it into a nearby garbage bin.

“Just a few weeks, but we really clicked on Tinder and he agreed that he wasn’t just looking for a quick fuck.” You glanced in one of the windows of a shop and decided against it, continuing your walk with your bestie.

“And you’re sure he’s not some creep?” He glanced at you speculatively.

“I’m sure, you worry wart. Plus, if he is you know I can handle myself.” You bumped elbows with him and he rolled his eyes.

“Okay, okay fine. Just wanna look out for my girl.” He winked down at you and you scoffed. Always the biggest flirt, this guy. “What’s this guy’s name again? I think I tuned you out when you said it before.” He said nonchalantly.

“Yah!” You weakly smacked him on the arm, making him dramatically hold onto it as if you had shot him. “It’s Bang Chan, you pabo!” He immediately halted in his tracks, making you stop as well to raise an eyebrow at him. “Jin? Did you malfunction?” You shook his arm with a chuckle.

He stared down at you in disbelief. “Did you say Bang Chan?” He sounded as if you just told him that you were the Queen of England and you giggled.

“Uhhh yeah? He also goes by Chris. Why? Wait–” Your tone quickly changed into one of exasperation. “Hyunjin, please don’t tell me you went to a fortune teller again. Did they ward you away from any ‘Bang’ family names or something? I told you to stop going after what happened last time!” You scolded, memory flashing back to when he only wore white 24/7 because it was ‘guaranteed to bring him great wealth’. You had to help him with his laundry for weeks because he couldn’t stop getting stains on everything he wore.

“No, no, no. What does this guy look like?” He looked almost panicked now and you started to become concerned.

“Ummm, well… He’s a bit shorter than you. Super muscular with broad shoulders. A super bright smile and dimples that I just want to swim in…” You started to sound wistful as you described the dreamy beefcake. “Oh and don’t even get me started on his di–”

“Oh god, Aegiya, STOP.” The man sounded disgusted and you doubled over laughing. You were only a year younger than him and he just had to milk it by always calling you a baby.

“Dude, what’s the deal?” You finally wondered.

He huffed and continued walking, annoyance written all over his features as he stared straight forward. “Well, apparently it appears that your new boy toy also happens to be the new roommate I got last week…” He grumbled and now it was time for you to stop in your tracks.

“What??” To say the least, you were pretty surprised.

He just continued to walk and you scurried over to catch up to him. “Yyyyep. Congrats. I now get to help you plan for your date with my fucking roommate.” He sounded super put out and you cackled at him.

“Are you fucking kidding me?! That’s fucking hilarious!” After a moment of your chortling, your brain cut you off short when you felt a lightbulb blink to life. “Oh my god, Jinnie! You have to tell me about him! Do you think he’s into more of a wild girl, or a shy one? Does he cook? Clean? What kind of music does he–”

“Hey little lady, you probably know more about him than I do. Like I said, he just recently moved in.” You gave him puppy dog eyes and he glanced over at you momentarily, quickly looking straight forward again with a disbelieving huff. “All I can tell you is that he produces music, he constantly works on it day in and day out as if his life depends on it. I’m surprised he even found the time to date.”

You smiled to yourself. He made time for me? As if fate had heard your conversation, the two of you started getting nearer to the perfect store. “Let’s go in here, Jinnie!” You grabbed his arm to pull him in, but he was as firm as a statue.

“Nuh-uh. Nooo way am I going into a sex shop with you to help you bone my fucking roommate. You’re nuts.” He looked at you as if you had grown two heads.

“Awww c’mon, Jinnie, pleeease? I need the male objective’s eye! I don’t want to go in alone!” You grabbed onto his hand and looped your fingers to intertwine with his. “Please…” You donned your cutest pout and squeezed his hand.

His brows furrowed and he looked like he was having a genuine internal battle. “Damnit, Aegiya…” He closed his eyes and sighed deeply. “You’d better make this quick. AND you owe me a shit ton of ice cream after this…”

A smile burst out across your face and you threw your arms around his shoulders, giggling like a school girl. “Ahhh! Thankyouthankyouthankyou, Jinnie! This is why I love you!” When you pulled back from the embrace, he looked annoyed, but you could definitely see a rosy color dusted across his cheeks and a deep red bloom on the tips of his ears.

You intertwined fingers again and dragged him into the store.

You felt like a kid in a candy store, finding set after set of lingerie and handing it to Hyunjin to hold onto. “Okay, I think we’ve accumulated enough, little Miss Pamela Anderson!” He shouted at you from behind the pile he had stacked in his arms.

You giggled at his drowning appearance and led him to the changing rooms where you sat him down on the bench just outside the door. “Wait here, I’m gonna try them on!” You grabbed the first set from his arms and skipped off to try it on.

You struggled a bit on the first one just because it was so intricate, but you ended up figuring it out. It had crossed your mind that it might feel a bit weird for some girls to show their male best friend themselves wearing lingerie, but, again, you were just so comfortable with Hyunjin that you didn’t think twice.

“Jin, I think this might be a bit much, what do you think?” You said as you opened the door to show him.

At first, he wasn’t really paying attention, just mindlessly scrolling away on his phone. However, when he looked up, the phone clattered to the ground, which he quickly retrieved while clearing his throat for some reason. “Uh– I– Um, it looks– uh… good? I guess?” He said, desperately avoiding eye contact with you.

“Yeah, but look–” You turned around to show him the backside that looked like a damned jungle of straps, buckles, and latches. “Doesn’t this seem too complicated?” When you looked at him again, his whole head and neck were a deep crimson as he zoned out on your ass. “Jinnie?”

He quickly snapped out of it and his eyes darted anywhere and everywhere away from you. “U-Uh yeah– y-yeah…”

You figured you didn’t want it to be too hard to get out of because that’s just not sexy if you have to struggle in the moment. You just shrugged. “Okay, then. Next!” You grabbed the next piece off the pile and shut yourself back into the changing room.

You repeated this several times, you put on the next set after the next set, continuing to ask Hyunjin for his input until you slipped on the final piece.

It was perfect. A completely black (which you knew Chris liked) bustier with mesh, lace fabric woven over the spines of the top. Complete with a garter belt and crotchless panties. All you needed were some stockings and it would be perfect.

However, you obviously couldn’t show these to Hyunjin, they were crotchless! And contrary to popular belief, you did have some standards. Anyway, you knew it was perfect with or without his opinion.

You quickly changed back into your clothes and stepped out, items in hand and ready to be purchased. “This is the one! Ready to go?”

Instead of a grumble with a remark like ‘finally’ or something equally as chafing coming from his mouth, you were surprised to hear him say– “What? That’s it? But you didn’t…” He stopped mid-sentence and blushed.

“I couldn’t show you this one, Jin. It was a bit much, even for you. But, trust me, you would have loved it.” You said enthusiastically as you walked to the checkout counter.

He just simply replied with– “Oh… okay…” And was suspiciously silent for the rest of the day.

- - - - - - - - - -

Jinnie 🥟🍦:

Ur date is tonight right?

Aegiya ❣🎨:

?Yeah, why

?Omg did he say something

?Did he ask u abt me

?He’s not calling it off is he

As much as Hyunjin wanted to lie and say yes, he wouldn’t do that to you.

Jinnie 🥟🍦:

No no, I was just checking

Was thinking about going out tonight too

(He wasn’t)

Jinnie 🥟🍦:

Ya know, give u guys privacy

Aegiya ❣🎨:

Ur such a sweetheart, Jinnie

But I don’t want to kick u out of ur own home

We will probably go back to my place anyway

The thought gave Hyunjin a knot in the back of his throat.

Jinnie 🥟🍦:

Oh ok cool

Have fun

(He hoped you wouldn’t)

Aegiya ❣🎨:

😉 Will do

He grumbled at his phone and flopped onto his back on the bed. Ever since he met you, he knew you were special. However, since you were coworkers, apparently that meant he had a big ole ‘FRIENDZONE’ stamped on his forehead in red and he would never make it any further than #besties.

But it was fine. He was just happy to have you in his life because you were, in fact, a really cool person.

You had dated a few people here and there in the years since you two became friends and he obviously wasn’t a fan, but he was happy any time you were happy, so he stayed silent.

However, when he found out that you were going to date his freshly new roommate, he started to get a bit more agitated. What if you two really hit it off? Yes, you would be around a lot, but would you still come around for him? Or would you only want to come to see Chris? Not to mention the fact that he would have to listen to the man fucking you just down the hall!

…

Okay, maybe the idea of being within such proximity to you while you were moaning and whining and getting fucked silly might be a turn-on… even if it wasn’t him making you feel that way…

Ever since you took him shopping, it was like his horniness was amplified by ten and his mind was on a constant loop of images of you in that lingerie. Whatever caused you to feel the need to model them to Hyunjin, he didn’t know, but now the godforsaken thoughts plagued him day and night!

Sometimes he even got a little pissed, thinking you were just stringing him along to tease him, but he would quickly come to his senses because in his heart he knew that you loved him. Even if it was just as a friend.

A knock on Hyunjin’s door disturbed him from his thoughts. Of course, the man of the hour would show up right in the middle of his very important brooding session. “Come in!” He shouted to his roommate.

The door opened and he was greeted with the bright smile of that damned Aussie. Hyunjin couldn’t even hate him and that pissed him off even more. Chris was just such a genuinely good guy. He could literally befriend anyone he wanted and he was super talented too. Hyunjin never had any self-esteem issues, he knew he was gorgeous, but the fact that Chris was the one to snatch you kind of hurt his pride.

“Hey, roomie! Whatcha doin?” He plopped down next to the younger on his bed.

“Just thinking of where I should go tonight. I’m not really interested in hearing…” The words were left unsaid, but Chris understood right away.

Chris was pretty surprised when you told him that Hyunjin was your best friend, but he was also kind of happy that you were already so tight with his new roommate.

Although, when Chris talked to Hyunjin about the topic, he noticed that the taller man became a bit sullen any time your name was brought up. Chris could instantly tell that Hyunjin was in love with you.

He thought he should have maybe been pissed or concerned, but he wasn’t. He moreso felt sympathy for the young man. Yes, Chris was also incredibly smitten with you, but that only made him feel more sorry for the younger. Because he knew the effect you had on both of them.

He placed a gentle hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder. “Hey, man, listen,” Chris said apologetically. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you like her. I’m not blind.”

Hyunjin shot up into a seated position. “W-what are you talking about? I’m not into her like that at all!” He himself knew he didn’t sound believable. “We’re just friends…”

Chris just sighed. “Okay, sure, but the statement still stands. You don’t have to leave our place on account of me. Me and her can go back to her place after.” Chris gnawed on his lip as if he was contemplating something and Hyunjin was intrigued. “Or…” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “We could still come over with you here…”

Hyunjin couldn’t lie to himself, he always wanted to hear what you would sound like in bed, but it just felt… wrong? “I dunno hyung… I don’t want to spoil your guys’ date.” Although it pained him to say it.

“Well that’s the thing, I don’t think you would.” Chris countered and Hyunjin just looked at him quizzically. “Okay, let me explain. So she told you we met on Tinder, right?” Hyunjin slowly nodded, not sure where he was going with this. “Well, we really started off talking about our… sexual preferences–” Hyunjin was certainly intrigued now. “And she had mentioned once that she always wanted to try a threesome…”

Hyunjin’s jaw dropped. “Oh…” He didn’t know what else to say. Where was Chris heading with this?

“Take it however you like, but just know that if you just so happened to be home and just so happened to walk in on us… I don’t think she would be opposed to some… company… if you get what I mean.” Chris hinted and Hyunjin was frozen on the spot.

“And you want that??” Hyunjin was flabbergasted.

Chris chuckled. “I mean, I know what it’s like to be friendzoned by a girl and I also know what it’s like to have bad blood between roommates. And I don’t want either of those things, so why not let her decide?” Chris was genuinely too good to be true. “And don’t think I don’t want her to myself, because, trust me, I do. But you are an important part of her life. It’s best that she knows how you feel before things get too serious.”

Hyunjin didn’t even know how to respond. Hell, he didn’t know how to think in that exact moment. All he could register was the word that came from his mouth. “Okay…”

- - - - - - - - - -

Chris was a perfect gentleman, through and through. The dinner he took you to was delicious beyond reason and the conversations he led were the most engaging that you had ever experienced. Everything just felt so easy with him. Plus, the chemistry between the two of you was off the charts.

Small touches and lingering hands left you buzzing with need and you found yourself having a hard time keeping your hands to yourself. The only odd thing, not unwelcome, just odd, was the fact that he kept bringing up the topic of your best friend the whole night.

He wanted your opinion of him and what you thought of him. Some people might have thought it was out of jealousy, but he didn’t really give off the jealous vibe. He seemed to genuinely want to know what your relationship was like. And you loved your best friend, so you were happy enough to discuss him.

By the end of dinner, the sexual tension was suffocating and you just wanted to rip his clothes off then and there. When you hopped into the car and he started driving, you felt yourself shaking with anticipation when he rested his hand on your bare thigh where your little black dress was too short to cover.

You were super impatient to get back to your place, but as he kept driving, you realized he wasn’t heading in the direction of your apartment where he picked you up. “Hey Chris, do you know the way back to my place?” You turned to look at him to find him blushing. God, he’s cute.

He cleared his throat. “Well, I um… I was wondering if I could take you back to mine? I’m sorry it was a bit presumptuous of me, but I have a surprise for you…”

Electricity shot through you and you didn’t think twice to consider what you told Hyunjin. “Not presumptuous at all! I’m…” You blushed when he glanced at you with his stupidly sexy half-grin. “...looking forward to it.” Your eyes were glued to his face and you squeezed your thighs in arousal when he slid his hand a bit further up your thigh.

He looked over at you just as you bit your lip, your eyes hazy with lust. He bit his own lip to suppress a smile when he looked back at the road and you felt his hand slide to your inner thigh as his fingers closed in on your crotchless panties. Never touching, just teasing.

- - - - - - - - - -

When you arrived at his and Hyunjin’s apartment, everything happened in a blur. As the front door closed behind you, you felt Chris’ hands wrap around your waist from behind and a warm press of lips close in on your neck.

Chris was intoxicating, everything about him made you dizzy with want and you quickly spun around in his arms, throwing your arms around his neck and smashing into his lips with your own. He instantly pressed you up against the wall and you arched up into him, silently begging for more. His arms were wrapped low around your waist to pull you suffocatingly close and you kicked your black heels off when you wrapped your legs around his waist.

He responded by holding you up underneath your dress by both ass cheeks and he pressed his slowly hardening dick against you as he moved to devour your neck. He grinded into you and you threw your head back as far as the wall would allow you as you moaned his name.

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous.” He growled into your neck as he kneaded your ass with his fingertips.

All you could reply with was– “Ngh, fuck, Chris. More. I need more...” Your voice was whiny and already fucked out, but by the low groan he breathed into your neck, he was very much in a similar state.

He pulled you back from the wall and carried you down the hall to his bedroom where he eagerly plopped both of you down on the bed. You writhed underneath him, trying to pull him impossibly closer as he moved to grope your breasts over your dress. You whined and pleaded for more and he complied.

He released one of your breasts and slid his hand down between your legs. What he felt (or really the lack of what he felt) made him gasp and look down at you incredulously. The crotchless panties were definitely a good choice. “Fuck…” He pounced on you with one long, hungry kiss and then released you to crawl down between your legs.

The moment you felt his mouth close around your clit, you saw stars. You cried out with labored breaths and it took him no time at all to push you over the edge. You curled your fingers in his dark brown locks and he guided you through your orgasm, head popping up with a breathtaking smile when you came down. “Holy shit, Chris… that was probably the fastest anyone has ever got me to cum.” You giggled and you internally cooed when he blushed at the statement.

However, that was short-lived as the sex-god side of Chris returned and he ripped off his shirt and slacks, leaving him in just his boxers as he nestled back down to sit against the headboard. “C’mere, baby girl.” He patted his lap and you quickly crawled over to straddle him. His hands instantly flew to your hips and ass where your dress rode up.

Now was the moment you had been waiting for. You decided to cut to the chase and you grabbed the hem of your dress and slowly pulled it up over your head. When the fabric that was blinding you was finally pulled from your face, Chris’ expression was almost humorous. You felt his fingers gradually tighten more and more on your ass as he assessed your undergarments.

His face looked like he was in some sort of trance of crazed hunger and when he looked back into your eyes, you saw pure carnal desire. “What do you think? I got it just for you, Chris.” You said with hooded eyelids that ate up every inch of skin he had on display.

“What do I think?” His voice must have dropped about ten octaves and he harshly pulled you to directly sit on his achingly hard cock through his boxers. “I think you're a motherfucking goddess.”

He then proceeded to capture your lips once more in an absolutely filthy kiss, tongues clashing and teeth gnawing. You started grinding on his dick and he growled into your mouth, pulling away moments after you started.

“Do you want your surprise, baby girl?” He said as he guided your grinding hips with his hands. You were so fucked out that all you could do was nod your head profusely. He then turned to look at the door you had left open behind you. “Hyunjin-ah, would you like to come in?”

You immediately stilled and whipped your head around. You felt the hands on your hips tighten. “Jinnie?!” You were shocked. How long had he been watching??? By the completely beet-red face and the huge bulge in his pants, you would say it had been more than just a few moments.

You heard a shushing from the man underneath you and you turned back to him. He looked deep into your eyes and you felt him slowly glide his thumb over your sopping clit, making you gasp and your eyelids flutter. “I asked Hyunjinnie to help bring your fantasy to life.” You instantly knew he was talking about the threesome you had hinted at one time. “And he was more than willing to help out.”

You slowly turned back to your best friend that had taken a few steps further into the room. “Is that true, Jinnie?” You were mostly worried about his own comfort.

He nodded with a hazy stare. “It’s not exactly how I pictured it happening… but yeah…” What did he mean by that?

You didn’t have much time to think on it, however, because you suddenly felt Chris easing a finger inside you. You gasped and whipped back around to face him, your hands flying to his broad shoulders to ground yourself.

“Do you mind if he watches while I fuck your pretty little hole first?” Your mouth was perpetually hung open as you nodded in compliance. “Good girl, now get on all fours, gorgeous.” He pulled his finger out of you and, before you did as you were told, you grabbed Chris’ hand and took his spunk-covered finger into your mouth. Both men groaned at the sight and you weren't ashamed to admit that you were feeling pretty proud of yourself.

Once you released his digit and you turned to do what you were commanded to, you looked straight into Hyunjin’s eyes and crawled to where he was standing at the foot of the bed. Without warning, you grabbed him by his belt loops and pulled him flush to you where you stood on your knees on the bed. You could feel his erection push into your stomach and you felt a new wave of arousal stir in your core.

“We can talk about this later, but right now, I want this…” You deftly undid the top button of his shirt. “...and these…” You moved a hand down and palmed at his hard-on, making him gasp, then popped open the button on his jeans as well. You stretched up and brought his head down so you could whisper in his ear. “...gone.”

When you released him with a wicked smile and resumed your position on all fours like you were asked, Hyunjin quickly got to work on your request.

You suddenly felt a hand gently wrap around your neck to pull you up and back flush against Chris, his now bare cock resting between the cleft of your ass cheeks. “You think you can take all of me, sweetie?” He said as he grabbed your wrist with his free hand and lead you to feel his sizable dick. You almost choked on your gasp. Now, you knew Chris had a huge cock, you both had sent each other plenty of nudes these past weeks, but to feel it in your hand, it just didn’t feel real.

You tried to turn to look at it, but his hand on your neck kept you still and you whimpered. “Now, you have some options, baby girl. Either you take all of me now without seeing it first–” To be honest, that sounded pretty hot, but you were also dying to take a peek. “...OR, you can look all you want, but I’ll get off in that sweet mouth of yours instead while Hyunjinnie does whatever he wants with your tasty little cunt.”

You couldn’t control the pornographic moan that escaped your lips from the pure filth coming from his lips. You could see Hyunjin start to form a slight grin from watching this unfold and that in itself had you shaking with want. “B-but what if I want both?”

You could feel the rumble against your back coming from the depths of Chris’ chest from the question. “A greedy little one, are we?” You then felt yourself abruptly being pushed face-first into the mattress with your ass in the air. “Then I guess we’ll just have to give you all we’ve got…” Chris growled as you heard the tear of a condom wrapper open.

“J-just–!” You looked up at Hyunjin, as best as you could from your squished position, from his rushed outburst. “Just… don’t hurt her…” He sounded a bit hesitant to say it, but he looked down into your eyes with pure concern. Your heart soared.

“Jinnie…” You held up your hand and he crouched down next to your face. You crooked your neck up to whisper directly into his ear, loud enough for Chris to hear. “I want you to hurt me…”

He pulled back incredulously and his shocked eyes bore into yours. “Holy fuck, can you be any more perfect?”

“I know, right?” Chris said with a chuckle.

Everything that happened next all happened simultaneously. You felt Chris shimmying behind you and felt his warm breath fan over your folds. You felt him lick a long, fat stripe up your opening then felt him shimmy again to get into position. You felt the tip of his cock wedge its way into your entrance and you saw Hyunjin step back and finally drop his boxers to the floor.

Your. Jaw. Dropped.

Not only from the breathtaking feeling of Chris’ dick splitting you in two, but also at the mesmerizing sight of Hwang Hyunjin stripped bare with his beautiful, leaking cock in his hand. “Like what you see, Aegiya?” All you could do was nod dumbly with a red face that was struggling to adjust to Chris’ size.

You needed a distraction from the pain. You pulled yourself up on your hands and reached out to Hyunjin. “Wanna taste…” You whined pitifully.

He cockily smirked with his tongue prodding at his lip. “Anytime, baby.” You felt fire in your veins from his words and you felt in desperate need for more stimulation.

Just as you grabbed ahold of Hyunjin’s gorgeous cock, you pushed your ass back into Chris, shoving him even deeper inside you and the three of you moaned simultaneously.

You quickly started lapping up all of the precum that coated Hyunjin’s tip and he slowly tangled his hands in your hair. “You taste so good, Jinnie.” You said with fluttered lashes, right before you took his head all the way in.

“Fuck, Aegiya. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this…” That one statement blew your mind and you instantly looked back on your entire relationship. Hyunjin wanted me?

Again, you couldn’t think on it long, because Chris suddenly decided to start pistoning fast and hard into you, shoving you down onto Hyunjin’s cock even further. You held back your gag reflex and allowed yourself to bask in the eroticism of being used by these fucking drop-dead gorgeous men.

“Goddamn, baby girl. You’re doing so *ngh* fucking good for us *huff* …taking all this cock so fucking well.” Chris growled as he nailed you over and over again in all the right places.

“Shit, Aegi. You’re so fucking sexy with your mouth around me *hiss* fuuuck you’re so damn good at that!” Hyunjin threw his head back with a laugh and it was one of the most beautiful sights you had ever seen. “I can’t wait to taste you, baby.”

That’s what threw you over the edge, screaming as loud as you were able to with a throat full of cock. They both seemed to slow down as you rode your orgasm, but they were definitely not done with you yet.

Once you seemed to have come down from your high, Hyunjin spoke up. “Hyung…” There seemed to be some sort of silent communication going on because before you knew it, you were completely empty on both ends.

You slumped down on the mattress, your intense orgasm seemingly having taken the life out of you. Your eyes fluttered shut while you tried to regain control of your breathing and you felt someone sweetly petting your hair. “Did we wear you out for the night? Sorry, Aegiya…” Your eyes snapped open to see Hyunjin knelt down next to your head at the foot of the bed.

“N-no!” You grabbed onto his hand, pleadingly. “Not done! Need more… use me…” You were suddenly too cockdumb to form complete sentences, but what you did say made both men curse in tandem. Hyunjin smirked and quickly stood up.

The men grabbed each end of you and flipped you onto your back. Your vision was blurry with lust, but you could still clearly see that Chris had removed his condom and Hyunjin donned one now instead.

With one sharp tug, Hyunjin pulled you into position where his face hovered over your folds. You looked down at him right as he placed those plump lips against your throbbing clit in a torturous kiss. You whined at the damned tease and he smiled against your skin.

He then went from zero to sixty in the blink of an eye.

He began to you out as if his life depended on it and his long tongue reached even further inside you than you thought was possible. Your head craned back as you belted out a silent cry of pleasure. However, Chris used your open mouth to his advantage as he positioned himself at the foot of the bed and you finally caught a glimpse of his dick coming straight toward your mouth.

And HOLY FUCK was the man packing, or what?

There was no way in hell you were going to be able to deepthroat that monster! Yet you took him in your mouth nonetheless. You knew you still had a wicked tongue when it came to giving head. “Shit, baby girl. Your mouth really is magic.” Chris groaned.

You felt pride fill your smug little bubble, but you were soon preoccupied with your next orgasm rapidly approaching from the skilled tongue of Hyunjin. You whimpered on Chris’ massive cock and he moaned from the vibrations. Your orgasm was just as powerful as the last as you released all over your best friend’s face.

You heard a long hum come from the man between your legs. “You taste so good, Aegiya.” Hyunjin said once you were finished and he kissed his way up your body, only to stop to suck each nipple at a time into his mouth. Chris had started fucking your face shallowly and he was able to get painfully deep from this position.

As you felt Hyunjin move up to suck on your neck, you felt his cock start to prod at your entrance. You were more eager than you thought you should be to feel him inside you, but when he absolutely slammed into you, you almost choked. Hyunjin was waaay longer than Chris and he reached spots inside you that no man had ever reached before.

You whimpered on Chris’ cock and you felt him start to stutter in his rhythm. “Fuck… M’cummin…” Sure enough, after a few more pumps, you felt hot ropes of his seed hit the back of your throat. You always had this really sick pleasure of cum eating and he thankfully spared you none.

More and more kept coming, and just when you didn’t think you could fit anymore, he finally finished and pulled out. You closed your eyes and hummed in bliss, sloshing the thick fluid around in your mouth before savoring every gulp to emptiness. You had realized that Hyunjin had stopped moving and you opened your eyes, offended that he would rob you of that delicious sensation he was giving you.

Yet when you opened your eyes, you found both men staring at you with shock on their faces. “Fuck, that’s gotta be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen…” Chris said with heavy breaths as he, too, was coming down from his high.

“Nasty, baby.” Hyunjin said with a smirk as he lowered himself down to hover just above your face. He looked apprehensive for a moment, seemingly searching your eyes as he slowly rocked into you with a steady rhythm and quick glances at your panting lips.

You decided to cut to the chase and you wrapped all your limbs around him, crashing him fully down onto your body and connecting your moistened lips.

Well shit. Why did he have to be an amazing kisser too?

His pace picked up along with the hunger in his kiss and you were suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling of having your best friend fuck you senseless.

Although Hyunjin’s dick was beating your cervix to a pulp, the pain led you to yet another climax that you didn’t even think was possible. He pulled back and brought his hand up to thumb at your lips. “Get this wet for me, pretty?” You instantly sucked his finger in and his heavy-breathing, open mouth formed the sexiest fucking smile you had seen on him yet.

He retrieved the dripping digit and brought it down to your over-sensitive clit, almost instantly pushing you over the edge. Without further ado, Hyunjin also climaxed and he came with your name on his lips. Holy shit, you just fucked your best friend…

Things were hazy after he pulled out.

First, you felt two pairs of hands strip you out of the uncomfortable lingerie and begin to wipe you down.

Next, you were easily repositioned under the covers to rest your head on a comfy pillow with the softest sheets you had ever felt.

After that, things got quiet. You didn’t know why… but you suddenly felt… lonely.

You felt a kiss on your forehead and that’s when you forced your eyes open. You caught his hand as the man started to retreat. “Jinnie?” He returned to you with a sad smile.

“Yes? What is it, Aegiya?” You squeezed his hand tighter.

“Stay? Please?” He looked startled and he glanced at the man that had evidently crawled under the covers with you. You turned to Chris’ confused face and looped your other arm around his strong bicep. “Both of you?” You knew this would probably be weird in normal circumstances and you would have to address your feelings in the morning, but right now you just wanted to snuggle up to both of the men you adore inside and out. And, thankfully, they seemed to agree.

The rest is tomorrow’s problem.

__________________________________________

If you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading!

This one is a spicy match!! Tbh I have no clue if I would be able to choose between the two... 😳

Please like, follow, and share! Thanks baby stays! 😘

2chopsticks2eyes - Masterlist

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids imagines #kpop smut #skz imagines #stray kids fanfic #stray kids scenarios #hyunjin x female reader #bang chan x female reader #christopher bang #hwang hyunjin #bang chris #bang chan smut #hyunjin smut #shameless smut

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digitalgirlguide · 2 months

Text

Beyond Bubble Baths: A Realistic Guide to Wellness, Hygiene Hacks, Energy Cleansing, and the Art of Setting Healthy Boundaries

self-care as we know it has been reduced to retail therapy and splurging on skincare and the the essence of true well-being often gets lost in the noise of buying stuff.

you're not alone, i'm guilty of this too.if i'm sad i buy thing. i'm happy? i buy things.

and not saying that self care can't be buying yourself things because you feel like it but that's not a true reflection of self care.

self-care is a disciplined commitment to becoming the best version of yourself while tuning into your body's needs.

so what does realistic self care look like?

Take a few minutes each morning to set intentions for the day ahead.

practice gratitude by writing 3 things you're grateful for or using some of these prompts:

What are three things you are thankful for as you start your day? Consider the small details that often go unnoticed.

Recall a specific moment from today that brought a smile to your face or warmed your heart. Describe it in detail and express gratitude for that experience.

Think about any unexpected surprises or acts of kindness that came your way. How did they make you feel, and why are you grateful for them?

Before your next meal, reflect on the journey of your food from its source to your plate. Express gratitude for the nourishment it provides your body.

Organizing your day/week:

Plan with Purpose: Start your week with a glance at your calendar or planner. Note any upcoming deadlines, appointments, or social events. (A little prep goes a long way!)

Prioritize with Intent: Identify your top priorities for the week and break them down into manageable tasks. Tackling the most crucial items first ensures a sense of accomplishment. (Check off those big to-dos, and watch the momentum build!)

Time Blocking: Allocate specific time blocks for various activities. This technique helps maintain focus and prevents the day from slipping away in a blur. (Time blocking = your new productivity bestie.)

Flexibility is Key: While planning is essential, leave room for flexibility. Life throws curveballs, and being adaptable ensures you can navigate unexpected changes with grace. (Embrace the spontaneity – it's the spice of life!)

Self-Care Slots: Intentionally carve out moments for self-care throughout the week. Whether it's a short walk, a cozy reading break, or a meditation session, these are non-negotiable appointments with yourself. (Because self-love is a crucial part of productivity.)

Schedule regular social activities to stay connected: Meaningful connections are the backbone of a healthy support system. (Humans need socialization – it's science!)

Hygiene tips for mind and body

Begin your day with a cleansing ritual that extends beyond the physical. Consider practices like meditation (Remember, a cluttered mind can be just as burdensome as a cluttered space.)

Incorporate energy cleansing techniques into your routine, such as using crystals (clear quartz, black tourmaline, amethyst, rose quartz, selenite) to clear negative energy from your surroundings. (Just as we dust and declutter our physical spaces, it's important to cleanse the energetic residue that accumulates throughout our day-to-day lives.)

Recognize the importance of setting boundaries and restricting access to yourself when necessary. (You're not obligated to be constantly available to others, and it's okay to prioritize your own needs and well-being.) Surround yourself with people who uplift and inspire you, who make you feel good and encourage you to be your best self. (Life is too short to waste time on relationships that drain your energy and diminish your spirit.)

Embrace a straightforward yet consistent skincare routine. Cleanse, moisturize, and shield your skin from the sun – simplicity meets effectiveness.

Practice regular handwashing to ward off germs, especially before meals and after restroom visits. (Your hands will thank you, and so will your immune system.)

Simple ways to show up for yourself everyday

Practice self-compassion and forgiveness, recognizing that perfection is an illusion and mistakes are opportunities for growth. (We're all human, and it's okay to stumble along the way.)

Listen to your body's signals and honor its needs, whether that means nourishing yourself with wholesome food, getting regular exercise, or allowing yourself time to rest and recharge. (Your body is your greatest ally and deserves to be treated with kindness and respect.)

Embrace moments of joy and playfulness, indulging in activities that bring you laughter and delight. (Life is meant to be savored, not endured.)

let's reshape the narrative of self-care into a journey of discipline, mindfulness, and attunement to our inner voices.

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hazshit-hotel-hater · 1 month

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Your sick little head, so brain damaged and lying in that hospital bed.

This art means a lot to me. It isn’t as rendered or polished as my other work, but I want it to look scrappy, messy, and still pretty. If you’d like to just read about the style and story of the art unrelated to myself, feel free to skip this section.

Last week I mentioned being in the hospital and the psych ward, and while I wont give extreme details, it was for an overdose. Recently after getting out I’ve been trying to act like nothing happened and it’s all going to go back to normal, but this is the 3rd time I’ve done it or been on the edge of it. Just last week I had to get rid of two of my cats just after I’d been discharged and that on top of the trauma of the whole situation I’ve just felt strangely empty. Overdoses don’t just come and go like that. The mental effects aside from whatever you took linger and hurt more than anything. “I’m doing better” really just means I’m not about to do it again, but those feelings are still stored somewhere deep inside me. For this specific piece I wanted to describe that feeling and wonder of “How would anyone feel if they found me? What will they do after?”

People don’t talk about Molly nearly as much as I think they should, but it’s understandable given that she has no set substance yet. For that reason I have made my own. The biggest thing I’ve mentioned before—in my Angel Dust headcanon post—is that I believe Molly is the one that found Anthony after he overdosed and called 911. The rest of his family was likely a bit worried, but I don’t think any of them cared as much as she did. Another headcanon of mine is that Anthony and Molly had matching rings with “AN” & “MO” engraved onto them. Molly sold her ring to pay for Anthonys funeral after his passing in the hospital and now wears Anthonys as replacement on her index finger which she eventually takes to heaven with her.

I don’t imagine she was able to visit him very often while he was in a coma but she still did when she could and would talk to him in hopes he could hear her a little bit before he left. It’d take a bit of a tangent but when sinners enter hell, in my mind entering hell takes as long as it did to die. So for Anthony it likely took him a week to a month to die during his coma from complications, and in turn, it took that same amount of time for him to full wake up in hell. Sinners to me are made and formed out of the ground in hell and wake up in a similar location to where they died. Angel Dust would’ve woken up alone in a hospital while his sister was now left alone and Anthony’s body likely already buried by then.

These are reasons why I included forget-me-nots and sweet peas as taped on decals. Their meanings being “Please don’t forget me” and “Goodbye, thank you for a wonderful time.” respectively. I also added the “M” wax seal over one of the sweet peas because I feel that it’s a sentiment that Molly held close to her heart and still does.

Molly’s body is torn from pink paper while Angel’s is blue paper. I intended for these to somewhat be seen as hands, like how the pink paper wraps over the forget-me-not when the blue paper lays beneath it to show Molly’s attempt to hold onto the memory of her brother while Angel is trying to remember his own life yet is unaware of what is happening to his sister now; unaware if she’s alive or not due to his poor keeping of time. Angel is also a scrap of paper glued above Molly’s hands to pretty genuinely symbolise they’re both in different dimensions now and can’t fully be apart of the same without the help of an external force. I also wanted to include more jumping spider elements so I’d like to think the string holding the tears is silk. Jumping spiders leave silk behind incase they fall so they can climb back up and when you put that in the form of a mentality I think Molly would fit into that very well.

I really hope we see more of Molly and I hope she had a good life and can see her brother again. Of course, she is a fictional character, but I can’t imagine the trauma she’s experienced in her life even without my personal headcanons. I love Molly a lot and just from how I personally interpret her she reminds me a lot of my mother.

Hopefully you can enjoy my ramblings and craze about these funny little spiders. 🩷

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rizs-briefcase · 3 months

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‼️FHJY EP 2 SPOILERS ‼️

all my thoughts about episode two of junior year !! it’s a long one :)

The little scenes when they describe their attacks and moves where the minis are acting it out is so cute

‘A mega version of Riz’s mage hand’

They all look so good. But especially Ally and Murph omg

Adaine’s first turn was actually pretty sick

And Gorgugs wtf

AND KRISTENS TO MAKE IT BLOODED PLS

‘Do you have mass healing word? Would you be interested in doing that?’

‘Brennan you’re literally bullying us’

‘You can try, oh it does hit’

ARMOUR OF AYDA crying

These beans are DUE

Murph starting to roll like shit again

Fabian flirting with efac again

‘I punch the mirror’ ‘I punch Kristen twice’

Lou Nat one again to get out the van ‘I’m going to throw up’

In two turns Lou only needs a 2 to not get crushed by the van, and twice he rolls a nat one

‘For you to half or third or whatever you do since it has multiple attacks’

Adaine death fail instead of taking a Dex save wtf

‘You don’t have it written down! I thought you read the book’

ECAF NOOOO

‘Look somewhere else’

I need a full story of Balthazar and Duggan, THEY WERE LOVERS

Murphs sleeves being short enough to show off his tattoos, I might disintegrate

What is with these kids and crashing vehicles

Ally throwing their dice

‘With my wizarding powers and my absolutely fucked van’

‘Just don’t roll a one and this is over.’ ‘NAT 20’

Gorgug IS the greatest wizard of our time

DUGGAN NO. At least he’s with Balthazar now :(

Moggy the doggy crit <3

‘Can I get under that hood a lil bit’

‘Give me a tinkerers room check’ ‘I don’t have that’

‘It’s limp silk’

‘Fabian, photosynthesis is back!!’

It just ain’t the same

‘I don’t even cutting words. I just take it’

‘I’m feeling a little unhinged’

‘Love is love’

Gorgug double crit, my boy <3

The enemy rolling two Nat ones and shooting himself in the eye

Murph dying of laughter of these guys showing up late

‘Nat 20’ ‘are you serious?’ Balthazar is everywhere

Adaine would’ve got a job, Fabian would’ve gone to dance camp, Gorgug would’ve worked on his van ; THEYRE JUST KIDS

But Riz is just happy they got to spend the summer together STOP MY SON

‘I do a half hearted prayer of healing just because I don’t trust you’

‘This was supposed to be an in and out deal but I got involved and I regret it’

‘Hey girlie,,, heyyy girlieee’

HALLARIEL ART, UGH SHES SO HOT

Gilear x Hallerial wedding WHEN

There’s something so sad about Fabian, who’s been coddled his whole life, being abandoned and left to fend for himself in a massive house

SKLONDA MY FIRST AND ONLY LOVE

Sklonda talking to Riz about college and how she doesn’t know if she can afford it for him

Riz just wants to go to college with everyone stop :(( him and adaine are fine there grades are good, but he needs to make sure he finds a place that suits the others please!!!!

WILMA AND DIGBY I LOVE U !! THEYRE SO CUTE

WAIT DID GORGUG AND ZELDA BREAK UP?? THEY ARE NOT THE COUPLE THAT WAS MEANT TO SPLIT !! Although calling it rn they’re getting back together

‘The elven oracle, the Saint of mystery and doubt, and the archdevil of rebellion’ THATS MY GIRLS!!!

RAGH AND LYDIA ART I MIGHT SOB

Kristen never told anyone she changed gods (I guess twice now?), Fig still hasn’t been to a bard class. They’re so funny

WE GOT AYDA ART!!!!

Ayda leaving Fig fossils to say she loves her her!!

Aelwyn putting protective wards on adaines bedroom to keep adaine safe :((

Cassandra my love,, but also it should not be up to a literal child who has just came out a religious cult to keep you alive and all that.

#dimension 20 #fantasy high #intrepid heroes #fhjy #fhjy spoilers #riz gukgak #fabian seacaster #kristen applebees #fig faeth #adaine abernant #gorgug thistlespring #brennan lee mulligan

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goodluckclove · 25 days

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Tell me about your suffering is art stance. I wish to know. Please and thank you. <3

Man you know I never thought I would openly talk about this part of my life because it was a nosedive that took me literal YEARS to recover from. But I'm seeing a close friend of mine go down the same path despite watching me almost sink into the void, so apparently this isn't universal information.

Storytime, dear ones. And it starts here. TW for mania, derealization, substance abuse, kind of parental abuse, and ultimately suicide related stuff.

This is an issue of Content magazine from 2016. It's a popular arts magazine from the Bay Area of California. Flip through it, it's neat! The arts scene in San Jose and around that area is small, but very dedicated.

Now go to page 56-57. The headline for the interview is "Miranda and the Young Outlaws". I did not choose the headline. I did not decide to have my photo be the only one in color. I was, at one point, Miranda, and at the time of that photo I am 19 years old.

I've been a novelist since 12, but at 16 I got into playwriting. It was instant validation. People thought I was good at it, and I was - though good in a way I don't believe applies anymore. Google my full dead name and you'll see some short plays of mine. Some short stories. I don't really mind putting my full dead name out there, mostly because I worked hard for all of that and would rather not let it die forever. So have at it.

If you read this interview you'd probably be impressed. Maybe envious at the depiction of independent creativity being validated at such a young age. A few notes from my present self:

- when Miranda referenced the rehearsal on the street outside the coffee shop, she neglected to include how once her actors finished the final scene, she laid down on the dirty sidewalk with no warning and began to weep from exhaustion. The cast, her friends from high school, most of them still IN highschool, gathered around her and struggled to calm her down.

- when she describes her "house of recovery" she doesn't mention that her "recovering addict" parents got her hooked on medical cannabis to stop her nightly, hyperventilating panic attacks. Not everyone who smokes weed is addicted. Miranda was for three years.

- "when you're young and you find an art form you're really passionate about it helps you emotionally..." The reporter misquoted Miranda here. It HURTS you. That's what she said. It. Hurts. You.

- I considered the other people in that group photo the most important people in my life. None of them talk to me anymore. I get it, though.

The Young Outlaws was my legacy at the time. We did The Muses, and it was one of the most profound experiences of my life. Then after that I had a complete, screaming mental breakdown the night before our Halloween show.

I was working five jobs at the time. I dropped out of school to focus on theater. I didn't eat much, and every other weekend I wrote a new full-length script in the span of less than two days. I was insane and miserable constantly, but that's what an artist is, isn't it? Someone who suffers? Isn't that what it means to put in effort?

It's crazy, but that brainwashing runs so strong that as I write this it's hard not to think that I was somehow STRONGER back then.

I didn't stop so my body stopped for me. I shut everything down over a video on the Facebook group for my troupe that I filmed while lying on the couch, and then I just kept lying on the couch for days. Then weeks. I have a memory of lying on the patio at dusk, looking up at the clouds pass and wishing desperately that I had enough energy to kill myself.

I didn't write. I didn't write for a long time.

But that's what an artist is...right?

It got better when I stopped smoking weed. As I kept going to therapy and adjusted my medication. Then my foundation broke again and I walked out of the show in Santa Cruz I was emceeing for and made an attempt that landed me in the psych ward for a week.

I did write a play there in the notebook they gave us. A friend I made in the unit gave me the title. If I ever make a Patreon or something I'll put it up there because it's good but it's too painful to ever hear aloud.

Listen. Please listen. Lean in close like we're children sharing a secret.

Suffering isn't cool. It is not helpful. It. Will. Not. Help. You. Not in relationships, not in life, especially not in art. Do not make an identity out of pain that you can get ease or erase entirely. If you are an artist with ANY sort of neurodivergence, you do not have the luxury to be the picture of the Tortured Artist.

Mania shows through artistic pursuit. Same with depression. Same with anger and delusion. But people expect artists to be weird and a little unstable and edgy, so what's the problem?

The problem is I'm dying. The problem is that I could've died. The problem is that so many other artists have.

Writing can still be hard. You can write something that's painful. But if your writing is always hard, always painful, always lonely and doubtful and you never walk away feeling proud of yourself - something is wrong. You need to reframe the way you think about yourself in relationship to your art. This is not an option. The alternatives are that you either don't make art, or you make a few works that some people might find so amazing that they talk about how much of a shame it was that you died early.

A few brave people have shared their writing with me and I've been thrilled and impressed. I'm seeing things that should be on bookshelves. I'm looking up short story journals and practically begging them to submit. To them, to you, to me, and to Miranda, I say this:

Your craft is your heart. It can feel, but it doesn't have to break to be worthy. People don't study the tragic greats because they were drunk and high and mean, they study them because they had a beautiful heart and it is an immense loss that it was shattered so soon. Please don't become another tragedy. Please find a way to listen to your craft and your body with sympathy and tenderness.

Please? For me?

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing community #writing #on writing #authors of tumblr #queer writers #queer artists #young writer #young artist #oof what a ramble haha

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blank-house · 5 months

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Hi there!

I just have so many questions about the cast! But I'm not going to lie I'm mainly curious about Percy hehe so I hope that more than one question doesn't bother you :))

On one of the early descriptions about him it's said that he gets dorky when talking about his interests (which surprised me because he's all about the rizz and being cheeky 👀) I get that the fun is discovering on game but on some promo art the guys are showed with what seemed their hobbies? (Elio with sports and Jamie reading) so could we at least get to know anything about it pls? 🙏🏻

At the end of the demo on the hunt, he follows mc (if you make the right decisions ofc) I completely get his suspicions but I think that there's a tinyyy interest of his part on getting some time with MC even if he's just curious... Is it like that? Or is he just 100% on winning? Idk he doesn't seem so obvious to me sometimes, that's why I'm so interested 🤭

Thank you so much for your time! Hope to see more of you and as always I'll be supporting in all of the social media (and asking non stop on here 🙈). Keep doing amazing and take rests as you should!! 💖

That doesn't bother me at all so ask away! I'm like mosquito rubbing my hands with the prospect of geeking about our dorks haha but to answer your ask, let me reverse the order and tackle the hunt question first.

Percy at the Scavenger Hunt

So you encountering Percy is actually not determined by any choices made beforehand. Though there are situations that depend on your choices, this wasn't one of them. You're always gonna encounter Percy if you head to the front of the house and that's cause that's how the guys decided to split up to search!

That being said, curious isn't the most accurate way to describe what he's feeling toward MC- entertained is better! He did say meeting them was something out of a movie and he intends to see what might come from the ending ^^,

But if Percy feels ambiguous to you, then good! He definitely doesn't want to make figuring him out any easy on you.

(Hiding the second answer in case anyone wants to learn about the boys' hobbies through the game first)

LI Hobbies

I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE OKAY SO! Let's go through the straightforward ones from the promos- 1) Jamie

Jamie is a reader, yes. However, what he is reading is a bit different from what one might expect.

*cough* It's manhwas. He likes to read manhwas. Percy was actually the one who put him up to it and it's the first common ground the two have in terms of hobbies! Buuuut Jamie's actually the more avid reader between the two. He can probably decimate a bookshelf in a week if given the time and solitude.

Ahahaha there are other reasons behind why Jamie continues to like it- but the main one is that he likes how unexpected it is from literatures he read before. Power systems, reincarnation, transmigrations into fiction- yeah what's not to like when there're so many fantastical things happening in that genre.

Plus, reading's a good and subtle sign to ward off anyone who might want to bother him.

2) Elio

Elio is a natural at sports, yes! His like, affinity, and competitiveness for it was showcased a little during the side volleyball game and it's pretty much easy to think of him as an active guy. Which... he is... incredibly active, that is lol. It's almost a little tiring remembering all of the things he's tried once and most of all the ones he's really good at. But he's our Jack of all Trades and you can expect nothing less.

But if we wanna look at it from the promo art, he's seen breakdancing! Elio is actually the only one out of the boys who indulges in an after school club/org, which is the main dance team on campus. He's a core member but whether or not he shows up for practice is up in the air often haha

I wouldn't say it's his passion since he didn't grow up doing it- in fact, he only started in high school!- but he did end up liking it the most amongst all of the other forms he learned. As to why he picked up dancing, well that's something to learn in the game. ^^

3) Percy

Last but not least, Percy. There is a very small hint about it depending on what season you got in the demo, but he makes one or two gaming references. As such, TADAH!!! Percy is our cast's resident gamer boi! And while Deja is also a gamer girl, they have different tastes when it comes to this, specifically the genre.

Percy's got a love for story. If it's got a compelling story line he's hooked for weeks. As such JRPGs and open world games tend to be his favorite and he could crank out hours of gameplay just running around and exploring every side quest possible. His roommates know he's going to be locked inside his room or camping the living room for a long while when he's in this state lol.

Compared to Deja, he's not into the tedious aspects of gaming, just the feelings the story and the cast can evoke. You know that hollow feeling you get when you finish a novel or a really good video game? Yeah, he gets that a lot.

~*~*~*~

'Course there're more things each guy is interested in! We touched on baking for Jamie in the current demo and you get a taste of something else for Elio and Percy in the extended. I'm excited to expand on their other hobbies more when they finally get introduced but for now I hope that this satisfies your questions. Thank you for the ask!

#percy #elio #jamie #keyframes vn #keyframes asks

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forasecondtherewedwon · 2 months

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remember it once - final chapter

Fandom: The Artful Dodger Pairing: Jack x Belle Rating: E Chapter: 7 / 7 Word Count: 4812

For today's @dodgerfoxweek prompt: happy endings/escape

Belle’s free to be with him at the hospital as much as she likes now, and Jack’s free to feel all the strong emotions resulting from her being there. Never did he imagine that he would share his profession with his wife (never did he imagine marriage). He loves that he need only turn his head to find her elsewhere in the ward or to spot her through the windows in the doors. He worries, constantly, that she is at risk. He swallows the more uncomfortable fear that she is putting others at risk by being here.

She will be different from the others, those people he treated but could not save. Jack won’t allow it to be otherwise. In the days after Belle was bitten, he monitored the site of her injury. It could be that her diet is what keeps her well—the Governor’s daughter eats better and more often than a child like Alexander did—or that previous exposure, either in London or on the ship back, protects her. Jack doesn’t know whether the disease can be passed through the air. There isn’t time to study factors surrounding transmission, only to manage the effects on the people who come into the hospital. Unlike Prof, at least he orders the windows open to promote circulation of the air.

The possibility that Belle simply doesn’t share the affliction that brings most of Jack’s patients to his ward grows less likely. It’s been six weeks since Al’s death, two since the wedding, when Jack’s denial finally parts like curtains to show him a view of his wife that he’s stubbornly refused to see.

She’s working in the morgue. Once they discovered that the death of people with this particular illness wasn’t exactly binding, they stopped keeping the bodies at the hospital before burial. The room is now a place where Belle likes to conduct her research. Previously, Jack has entered to find her pacing the floor while she mutters to herself, or mixing solutions as she glances rapidly at an open volume on the table where they used to perform autopsies. Today, she sits beneath the window, gaze unfocused.

“Belle?”

“Hmm?”

Jack frowns and moves closer. Confused. It’s the word Charlie used to describe Al, the word Belle used in her story of the man on the ship. There’s some kind of mental decline that accompanies the decay of flesh, and it doesn’t begin with the aggression and physical violence that come immediately before an attack. If a patient can be watched closely, Jack believes, the signs of confusion can possibly be detected at an earlier stage. When one is willing to recognize them.

“Are you alright?” he asks his wife.

He crouches before her and quietly sighs in relief when her gaze sharpens and lifts to his face.

“Yes,” she says. “Yes, of course. I was only thinking.”

“What were you thinking?”

“The child, Anthony—”

“The one who keeps escaping the ward?”

It’s a serious issue, but Jack can’t help his smile. Anthony was bitten by his father and has run to Sneed’s ward in search of him, dodging hospital staff three times. Where the father’s condition is such that a visit with his son would be extremely unwise, Anthony’s is significantly milder; his injury has visibly neither improved nor worsened under Jack’s care. Jack has fledgling ideas as to why this might be—could their biological connection be sparing the child more severe effects? Could the bite be shallower because the father was able to recognize, on some level, the identity of his victim even in the midst of the aggressive haze?

“Exactly.” Belle smiles too. Jack catches the way her hands smooth over her stomach before she folds them in her lap. “Physical activity. Perhaps all Anthony’s escaping is inhibiting the necrosis.”

“It has developed faster in our bedridden patients,” Jack notes thoughtfully.

“If we could have them move around more…”

“How though? That won’t exactly work in concert with our current protocol of strapping them to their beds.”

“Which is rather inhumane. Necessary,” she asserts when Jack opens his mouth to speak. “I know. But inhumane.”

At what point though, Jack wonders, do they acknowledge that these people—these strangers and neighbours, fathers and sons, wives—are suffering from something that is making them inhuman? When they turn on their fellow man? When they rise from the dead? Since meeting Belle, Jack has been locked in a negotiation of how much weight to give life and death. He insists on the harshest realities while she persists in an optimism he’s found more natural to give in to, though which is still not his first impulse.

“It’s a good thought,” he says. “The activity. I don’t know how it will work, yet, but I agree with your thought.”

And he does, and he’s grateful to her for continuing to devise theories when he feels stuck on facts. He smiles at her. She’s done this from the beginning, hasn’t she? Reminded him again and again that there is always another way, that new ways are constantly being discovered, that they can themselves be the innovators by counterintuitively accepting that they don’t yet have the answer to a problem. That’s all this is: a problem. A terrifying, horrific one, but as long as they remain focused…

“What is it?” Jack asks, because Belle’s returned to staring at nothing in particular.

“A thought.”

“Have you already solved it? More fair if you’d at least let me try before you just came up with the answer.”

Belle frowns.

“The answer to what?” she wonders.

“How to allow our patients more physical ac—”

“Physical activity!” she bursts out, brightening. “Exactly! Jack, you know the child, Anthony…”

He nods, but his heart isn’t in it; it’s a function of his body alone. Yes, he knows the child, Anthony. The one Belle mentioned just a minute ago. The one she mentions now as though she didn’t then, presenting him with the same idea he’s just heard.

“I’ll… I’ll leave you to your thoughts,” Jack offers, rising.

Numbly, he exits the morgue. If she were anyone but his wife, anyone he knew had been attacked and personally witnessed them displaying memory troubles, he would go straight to the ward for reinforcements, find her a bed, continue to treat her wound while privately accepting that he was watching a decline from which he’d yet to see a patient recover. But he can only step into the hallway and bury his face in his hands.

He’s been a fool, thinking it could last.

—

The next blow doesn’t so much nudge them—the hospital, the colony, Jack’s stoic equilibrium—gently across a delicate tipping point as shove them out a second-storey window.

Sneed is bitten.

He does something Jack wouldn’t have anticipated: he begs for amputation. The only bright side is that Jack gets to slap him across the face to stop him panicking in front of the patients. After that, he drags the man out of the ward and stares at him with exasperation.

“Are you mad?” Jack demands. “I need you here, damn you!”

It’s worrying that Sneed doesn’t preen at the words, or seem to hardly notice them.

“Only my foot, Dawkins,” Sneed insists with wide eyes, both frightened and frightening.

“Well, yes, if we’re ranking the extremities it would be least inconvenient, as a surgeon, to lose, the foot’s not bad. It’s not a hand. But I do not have time to wait for you to recover from an amputation!”

“If we do it quickly though—immediately—now—before the disease can spread… I know you won’t make a pig’s ear of it, Dawkins.” Sneed swallows. “I trust you.”

“You certainly weren’t in favour of amputation when Fagin shot you in the leg. Have you forgotten the bit where I would be putting a large blade to your skin and sawing like the dickens?” Jack mimes the operation.

This, at last, appears to penetrate Sneed’s skull.

“I… can bear it. I am the finest surgeon in the—” Jack gives him a look and Sneed amends, “I am the second-finest surgeon in the colony. I will endure the pain.”

“Are you certain? Because you did yelp rather loudly when I slapped you in the ward.”

Sneed doesn’t grace this remark with a response. Jack sighs.

“If it’s what you want, I’ll do it. You know I can’t promise it’ll save you, and that I must impress upon you that you are here to heal others. This hospital cannot afford to lose a surgeon. Not now. The wards are full, as are the graveyards. We’re exhausted, and one less surgeon would increase the strain. But I’ll do it,” he repeats.

Jack watches Sneed’s jaw clench before he nods, making up his mind.

“I’ll clean the wound and get back to work.”

Jack deflates, relieved, not having realized how tensely he was holding himself at the thought of carrying on with Belle already inhibited, and then without Sneed. They’ve been losing nurses as well—the staff who interact with the patients most. Jack is endlessly thankful that Hetty has never once walked into a ward without her wits about her.

He claps Sneed on the shoulder in thanks and they exchange a look. How much is Jack asking him to give up by talking him out of the surgery? His health? His life? Likely both, if Jack examines it too closely, but he sees the weary comprehension in Sneed’s eyes and believes he would have stopped the surgery as he did the last time, when a drunken Prof stuffed a wooden rod between his teeth and told him to bite down.

Sneed glances down and Jack follows his gaze as he lifts his foot.

“Bloody woman bit straight through my boot.”

“Wound shouldn’t be too deep,” Jack reasons. “It’s given you some protection.”

“Sod protection. I brought these from Oxfordshire.”

“Sneed, you make it very hard to tell how quickly your disease is progressing.”

“What do you mean by that?” Sneed retorts.

“It’s just that so much of what you say smacks of severe cognitive damage.”

This time, it’s Sneed who slaps Jack. He’s rubbing at the sting, disgruntled but willing to admit the justice of the act, when Hetty comes marching towards them.

“Whenever you’re both ready to be doctors again, gentlemen, the rest of us would appreciate your assistance.”

“It’s Sneed’s fault,” Jack feels compelled to say, even if it does come out sounding petulant. “Values his boots above his life.”

“Remind me, what is your position at this hospital?” Hetty asks archly.

“Head Surgeon.”

“Then I would suggest acting like it.” She turns and heads back into the ward, calling over her shoulder, “Or I’m telling your wife!”

Jack looks to Sneed—wrongly, but it’s an impulse—for commiseration, only to find the prat smirking at him.

“Tattled on to your wife,” he taunts.

“At least I’ve got a wife,” Jack snips back. “Back to work before I put you out on your ear.”

“You wouldn’t. You need me.”

Damn. So he did register that after all.

—

The day Belle tells him she’s carrying his child is the same day Jack meets with Governor Fox and the new Gaines to discuss barricading the hospital. To keep them out or us in? he doesn’t ask, because it doesn’t matter, because the danger is within and without, because Jack has Fagin watching Belle to make sure she doesn’t wander into a ward during one of her distracted periods. There’s far too much on his mind and he finds himself agreeing with the proposal.

“Perhaps if I had rerouted the drainage when Jane suggested… noxious vapours…” the Governor says vaguely. Jack pats his arm.

There isn’t much use in thinking backwards. He nods, knowing his approval isn’t really needed, that his disapproval wouldn’t have stopped the military doing as they please. He nods because it feels like control, even as he’s agreeing to a decision that Belle, in a healthier state, would berate him for, reminding him of the inhumanity already inflicted upon their patients by tethering them down where they lie. What’s another barrier between these people and their freedom when the worse barrier is the one the disease has been erecting in their minds, dividing men, women, and children from themselves?

It’s as if Jack sleepwalks to tell Hetty the news. He knows he can count on her to be measured in her response, outraged yet taking it in stride, because it’s what must be done. There are too many cases of the disease. Barring the hospital’s doors means some people who seek treatment will go without, but it will protect the safety of those inside—patients and staff. Jack’s heard terrible things; in a combined effort, Flashbang and Aputi have taken to blasting to bits any corpse that begins to reanimate. It’s horrendous—both physically and morally disgusting—but Aputi told Jack he saw one of them in the graveyard, saw from a distance as it found… well, a piece of what remained after you threw explosives into a shallow pit of dead bodies. They aren’t just biting anymore. At least not with their fellow dead. They’re consuming.

He's preparing himself to let Hetty know they’re about to cross an invisible boundary, beyond which he won’t blame her if she leaves. Unlike Sneed, Hetty’s always been important to him. Unlike Sneed, Hetty hasn’t been bitten.

Jack makes sure she sees him coming when he approaches her in the ward. They go to the office that became his when Prof retired.

“I’m going to be a father,” is what comes out of his mouth.

“Oh,” Hetty says.

It’s a kinder response than it might’ve been, considering even Jack finds it difficult not to immediately add, Of course, I know we’re doomed, or to defend himself, swear that it didn’t just happen, because sex has hardly been a priority, and since Belle was attacked, she’s slept in a different bedroom, locked herself in. The way he looks at Hetty begs, Help me.

Gently, she says, “You’d better hurry up and find a cure then.”

“I don’t even know where to begin.”

“That’s because you’re exhausted. We all are.”

Jack shakes his head.

“It’s because concocting solutions is very much my wife’s forte. Whereas mine is…”

When nothing comes to him, Hetty supplies, “Keeping this hospital running. Barely,” she adds with a smile, “but running. Thank goodness we don’t have Prof underfoot.”

“He’d have been bitten the first day,” Jack has to agree. “Definitely for the best that he decided to wait it all out from the comfort of his libations cabinet. I mean, his home. Speaking of… you could as well.”

“Join Prof in a tipple?”

He knows she’s joking, and he humours her with a slight smile.

“Leave,” he says. “While you can. The military are going to barricade the hospital. Soon.”

And then Jack explains all the reasons why he went along with it while Hetty, rightfully, looks at him furiously.

Finally, she says, “I suppose you didn’t have a choice.”

“No.”

“And you want me to leave? Your best nurse? The most competent person in this hospital?”

“I don’t want you to leave, I want you to live,” Jack clarifies desperately. “Like Tim. He and Red—”

“No one’s heard from Red and Tim in days,” Hetty reminds him.

“They were smart. I’m sure they went to the bush, away from town. But you could leave another way. This is a port. Get aboard a ship!”

“And you?”

He hangs his head, avoiding Hetty’s gaze.

“Belle couldn’t go. When she worsens, she’ll be a danger to others.”

Hetty doesn’t argue.

—

They have dinner at Jack and Belle’s house, as a family. He still finds it incredibly strange to be hosting the Governor, to see Lady Fox and Fagin seated at the same table—a table that belongs to Jack, of all people. Sturdy and unscuffed. Never been anyone’s but his.

After Jack made the announcement to the rest of his staff, Sneed practically forced him and Belle out, stating that they needed a normal night. Possibly their last for quite a while.

His wife is at the table too, and he watches her parents and sister look at her in a way he knows she probably notices, even if she’s not saying anything about it. They know about her condition—both of her conditions—and regard her with expressions of mixed wariness and concern.

“How does Dr. Sneed fare?” Fanny pipes up during a lull in conversation.

“Well,” Jack is able to tell her honestly. “He was very fortunate to have had a barrier between the patient and his skin—”

“He was bitten through his clothes?” she asks, eyes lit up and speech a bit breathless. Jack stomachs the reaction with difficulty.

“Through his boot.”

“The bite was very nearly just a graze,” Belle contributes, “except that the woman who bit him had rather sharply tapered incisors, which were able to—”

“Yes!” Fanny says shrilly, smiling too hard. “Enough!” She dismisses the topic with an anxious flutter of her hands before apparently remembering some of her manners. More composed, she adds, “Please tell Dr. Sneed I wish him a swift recovery.”

Jack and Belle share an unsettled look.

“I am certain they will, darling,” Lady Fox assures her daughter.

Jack cares for his new sister, but he doesn’t believe in diminishing the severity of the outbreak in order to soothe her nerves. Spending so much time in the hospital, he’s forgotten to account for the fact that those who haven’t don’t know what he, Belle, Hetty, Sneed, and the others in the wards do. They might know people are dying, but not how many. They might understand that the hospital is attempting to treat people, but not that they don’t have a single recovered patient to show for their efforts. He’s trying to think of a tactful way to explain this when his wife jumps in.

“Actually, that isn’t likely, Fanny,” Belle says. “Dr. Sneed may not be seriously hampered by the disease for some time, but he will sicken, and he will die, like all the rest.”

“Belle,” Jack says, terribly soft.

“Like me,” she continues.

Total silence follows her words, until Fanny bursts into tears.

“That’s not very helpful,” Belle comments.

“Forgive my wife,” Jack says, hating to treat her as someone for whom he must take responsibility, but feeling compelled in the wake of her sister’s distraught response. “She’s not herself.”

“My husband is correct,” Belle tells their assembled family. “And I will be even less myself as the disease progresses. Without a cure, I doubt…”

Her bravado fails her. Jack sees her slip a hand off the table to touch her stomach. With her dressed, the curve is imperceptible, but he’s seen it uncovered. He’s sure she was about to say she doubts she’ll live long enough for the baby to be born. His throat tightens.

“We need to redirect our efforts, that’s all,” Jack says, fighting back tears. “Devote all our energy to finding a cure, as you say.”

“How?” Belle’s eyes are desperate, locked on his as they ignore the rest of the room. “You hardly leave the ward, and I need help. I don’t… trust myself. In the meantime, more people are contracting this disease.”

“I’ve heard rumours,” Fagin says, and they turn to stare at him. “Someone’s hired a ship. Standin’ in the ’arbour even now, she is.”

“How is this relevant?” Jack demands.

“Because it’s them who did it.” He’s carried on eating during the conversation, the picture of ease, and now he gestures to Governor and Lady Fox with his fork. “Getaway ship, I heard.”

“Getaway ship?” Belle echoes, turning on her parents.

The Governor starts to babble, but Lady Fox gets right to the point: “Yes. Our family is leaving the colony.”

“You can’t put Belle on a ship,” Jack says. “She has the disease.”

“Yes, and she’ll have you there to treat her.”

His mind stumbles over the fact that Lady Fox apparently includes him in her notion of family. He recovers.

“What, both of us leave?” he checks, baffled.

“I am sure Dr. Sneed is perfectly capable of taking care of things at the hospital.”

“No, he’s not,” Jack says. His voice is rising without his permission. “I don’t even mean to deride Sneed, but if there’s one thing he isn’t, it’s capable. And it’s not his bloody fault! The man’s injured, soon to fall ill, and it’s becoming mad out there.”

“Which is why,” Lady Fox says measuredly, “we will not remain here.”

Jack can feel it—he’s about to shove his chair back, jump to his feet, and start yelling.

But Belle says, “You’re quite right, Mother. You shouldn’t stay, it isn’t safe.” She looks to Jack as she continues to address her words to her mother. “You should take as many healthy people with you as you can.”

“There must be room for us to travel comfortably,” Lady Fox replies.

“Well, I’m not going, so that’s one space to fill.”

“Neither am I,” Jack says, feeling relief in his chest as it suddenly becomes easy. He smiles at Belle, but she doesn’t smile back.

“You are,” she says.

“No, Belle, I’m staying with you, wherever you are.” He thinks she might be edging into confusion, too much distress. He recalls the way their patients will become more aggressive with too much commotion.

Her eyes are perfectly lucid.

“I know that’s what you want,” she says, “but what you need is an opportunity to work on a cure. Somewhere you’re not exhausted and constantly interrupted and in danger.”

“I’d have no idea what I was doing!”

“You’ll take my notes. And Hetty. Hetty deserves a place on that ship if anyone does.”

“Yes, but—”

“Why don’t we all retire to the parlour?” Fagin suggests to the others. He throws a wink Jack’s way and Jack nods back distractedly.

“There are people who need you,” Belle says when they’re alone. She’s sitting sideways on her chair and Jack has drawn out the one beside hers. He clutches her hands between his.

“You’re not one of them?” he asks, hurt beyond words or measure.

“I need you to live. That is what I need. Let me save you this time. You will board that ship in the harbour. You will—yes, Jack,” she says when he opens his mouth to argue. “You will take as many healthy people aboard as you possibly can. Take the contents of the laboratory. Take my notes. Work on finding a cure and I promise you that I will do the same. This is not giving up.”

Belle smiles though tears roll down her cheeks.

“Keep my family safe,” she requests.

Jack takes her face in his hands.

“You are my family.”

They leave it there for now.

They leave it there for two days, and on the third day, a man with necrotic skin extending from raw wounds on his neck and chest gets past the preliminary guard the military have set up and comes barrelling into the hospital.

It’s chaos as Jack instructs Hetty to barricade their ward from the inside. He sprints to Sneed’s domain, but Sneed’s heard the intruder and already shut himself inside. He gives Jack a grim nod through the window, and then Jack is running, flying, to the morgue. To Belle. He can hear thudding, uneven steps behind him, like those of a drunken man.

Belle meets him coming up the stairs, and when she thrusts him aside, he isn’t expecting it and is tossed back. He sees the man—dull-eyed and intent on the pair of them—and then he sees him knocked off his feet, an arrow protruding from his chest. Jack stares at his wife in awe as she lowers her bow.

“That will’ve been enough to kill him,” he says dazedly.

“Unless he’s not the sort to stay killed,” she says. “Come on. Fagin’s been keeping my sword in your old room for me.”

All Jack can do is scramble after her, really feeling that he should be the one protecting her—except that he’s shit with a bow and arrow, and he doesn’t relish being reminded.

They retrieve Belle’s sword and go back to the man, who’s begun to stir.

“Very not-dead,” Jack diagnoses.

He stands aside and waits. When Belle doesn’t act immediately, he studies her face. It goes against their very purpose of doing no harm to intentionally kill the man before them. She shot an arrow into him in defence of Jack though, and he doesn’t think it would be possible to corral someone already so far advanced into the disease, to subdue him and take him to a ward, to strap him to a bed. It’s too great a risk. He’ll have to die (again?).

“Give me the sword,” he says to Belle.

Just then, the man lurches upright and his wife draws back her arm, slashing into his neck. It won’t be enough, and Belle’s breathing is quick and shallow.

“I can finish it,” she tells him before he says anything.

“I know you can.” They look at each other. He sticks out his hand and she thrusts the sword’s handle into his palm. “Don’t watch.”

—

At daybreak, the hospital will be under full military guard, no one in or out, food and bodies passed through a designated door—the one near the pit they used to dump amputated limbs into, where a strong solution of carbolic acid used to be enough to dissolve the dead without them reinvigorating and attempting to spread the disease they’re still trying to understand.

Behind him is the ship. Ladies Jane and Fanny Fox are already aboard. Hetty and Flashbang. Charlie and other children whose bitten parents cannot make the journey. Others, advocated for by Belle, who stood up to her mother to do so, who broke her mother’s heart by refusing to change her mind about coming with them.

Jack stands on the dock, knowing what they’ve promised one another, he and Belle. You told me once you would get on a ship for me, she reminded him moments ago. She’s more beautiful than he’s ever seen her, cast in the fleeting grey light before dawn. They hold hands. He can feel her ring.

I won’t be alone, she said.

Sneed will continue to work alongside her, of course. As will Aputi and Prof, who’s emerged from his stupor to recognize the severity of the situation and returned to the hospital in the position of Temporary Head Surgeon (Sneed is fuming, Jack knows).

The Governor has elected to stay behind as well, blustering about “going down with the ship, so to speak.” Noble, Jack thinks, if mostly a lie. He stays for his child. Jack longs to do the same, sliding his hand over Belle’s stomach as they embrace, but they’ve had this conversation. They’re doctors, formal credentials or not, both deeply loyal to the ideal of serving the people of Port Victory. Through separation, they double their chances of coming up with a cure. This is what they tell themselves. Jack holds Belle and never wants to pull away. He presses his lips to her temple.

When they draw apart at last, Belle rushes to her father, falling into his arms. Jack’s own father approaches him with his loping, unhurried walk. His eyes speak before his mouth opens.

“You’re still me number one, Dodge. Fancy Skirt’s just borrowin’ me for a little while.”

“Thank you. Fagin.” Jack chops up his gratitude, uncertain of his voice, which threatens to rend wetly.

“Just so you’re prepared, my dear, I will be suggestin’ your missus name the baby after Granddad”—he taps his own chest—“should you not scurry back in time to name ’im yourself.”

“Could be a girl,” Jack points out.

“Norberta, then.”

“That’s dreadful.”

“Piss off,” Fagin says, reaching out and giving Jack’s shoulders a fond squeeze.

There’s no finer farewell, as far as Jack’s concerned.

He sniffs and gives them another look: Belle bracketed by Governor Fox and Fagin, whose arm she slips her hand through when he joins them. Jack stretches out the moment, eyes on his wife’s face.

What if I don’t remember? Belle asked him.

I’ll remember it twice, he said. Once for me and once for you.

Remember it once, she requested, because love has bound us so tightly there is hardly a distinction.

Once then. I think I put my heart into your chest that day.

She took his hand and placed it to feel the beat.

And I have kept it. Jack turns and strides up the gangplank. The blazing sun appears, standing on tiptoe to kiss the horizon.

#dodgerfoxweek2024 #my writing #The Artful Dodger #dodgerfox #Dr. Jack Dawkins #Lady Belle Fox #Hetty Baggett #Rainsford Sneed #Norbert Fagin #Lady Fanny Fox #Lady Jane Fox

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spectacled-renegade-writes · 8 months

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An Early Start - Chapter 5 - Danny Phantom

Ao3: Here | Chapter 1: Here

Ao3 Description: The accident that turns Danny half-ghost happens when he is four years old and leaves him trapped in the Ghost Zone. Clockwork finds him and takes him in to raise. But what happens when Clockwork sends Danny back to the human-world ten years later when a permanent portal appears?

Chapter 5:

As the years passed, and Danny grew from a child to a tween, he slowly grew much more reserved within himself. It was hard to explain but… being alone with your thoughts for so many years… it was practically inevitable, how jaded he grew. Nevertheless, Danny still enjoyed his life. He enjoyed learning, reading, the deep conversations he had with Clockwork, who he now considered a father, and visiting the far reaches of the Ghost Zone.

After Danny perfected the art of his ice powers, Clockwork finally agreed to teach Danny the layout of this world, and the dangers within it. However, only when the day came that Danny knew his way around by heart, did Clockwork finally give him permission to explore on his own. It was a new kind of freedom that Danny relished.

Still, he should have been more aware of the dangers.

It started during a peaceful outing when he was eleven. Danny spent less and less time at home and more and more time in the deepest depths of the Ghost Zone, exploring every nook and cranny. But one thing always remained constant. He always returned home. Without fail. So, when he didn’t, it wasn’t difficult for Clockwork to figure what went wrong. But the boy always was one to learn by doing, and he knew the boy would return home, so Clockwork waited. It was about time this happened.

Danny found himself in a place he’s never been before. Excitedly, Danny pulled out his own makeshift map of the Ghost Zone, sat on a rock, and began to add to it. The air here seemed stale in a way he couldn’t really describe, and it seemed desolate as if abandoned, rather than life that never was. Though it did not affect him, he became aware of the chill that surrounded air. It almost seemed… haunted. Danny thought back to Clockwork’s lesson on irony.

Nevertheless, he persevered. After drawing what he could see, he moved forward, beyond the gray fog which lay ahead. It seemed almost like a barrier, in a way, but Danny was easily able to breach it.

The sight before him once he reached the other side was nothing short of fantastical. He found himself greeted with a large village, a large moat and an even larger castle. It felt like he fell back in time and got pulled to a whole new world all at once; fantasy and history come to life. It was truly a sight to behold. Yet… despite that, it also felt bleak… and grim. Almost despondent even, and it wasn’t long before his presence there became known.

“Who dares trespass on my domain?!”

The sight which appeared before him was a creature even more fantastical than the castle he was greeted with. Appearing from smoke and flame a dragon larger than any ghost Danny has ever encountered rose to the sky. The force of its large, purple wings flapping in the wind nearly knocked him back but he steeled himself and stood his ground… or rather his place in the sky. Yet, despite himself, Danny felt intimidated. For a single masochistic moment, he relished the feeling. Growing up as Clockwork’s ward left him with a certain kind of immunity in the Ghost Zone. But, seeing the rage in the dragon’s dilated, red eyes quickly extinguished those feelings. “I’m… Danny.”

“Danny?”

He cleared his throat. “Yes. Danny… Phantom.” He didn’t know why he said it. He has never been referred to with such a name before. But, for years now, he has felt more ghost than human, and he can’t remember the last time he has been referred to as Fenton either. After all this time that name felt foreign to him, separate. So, Danny Phantom.

“Well, Danny Phantom,” The dragon spit. “You have trespassed on my domain and for that, you must perish!” It wasn’t a moment later that the dragon charged. Danny dodged out of the way but the dragon whipped its head back, opened its mouth, and shot a large burst of fire at him. Danny reacted quickly and shot out his own blast of ice. The two attacks met in the middle and for a moment, struggled to gain the upper hand. But, the dragon won, and his flames melted the ice and hit Danny square in the chest. Danny yelped and went flying back, hitting the wall of the castle and sliding down to the ground. The dragon charged toward him and Danny quickly reached up and shot an ecto-blast from his hands. The attack did not slow the dragon in the slightest and in one fell swoop, he scooped Danny in his claws, shoved him against the wall, and slammed him to the ground.

“Please,” Danny begged. It was perhaps the first time since he was four that he felt such raw fear. “I didn’t mean to trespass. Please, just let me go. I promise I’ll leave and never return.”

“It is far too late for that, child.” The dragon snarled. “You are here and you must pay.” Either this ghost has never heard of Clockwork before, or cared not of his reputation and power. “Now, prepare to burn!”

Danny did not want to die. He wondered, not for the first time, if he fully died, lost his human half, would he disappear completely, or would his ghost half remain? It was a question that plagued him for years now but was the only question he never asked Clockwork. He feared the answer. Now, here he lay, trapped in the claws of a monster, about to learn that answer.

No. No! Not yet. It couldn’t end like this. It couldn’t! Not yet! Danny screamed, something as guttural and primal as his overwhelming fear. A sound of anguish and terror ripped from his throat. Everything he was and everything he feared, nothing and everything all at once. He could not accept this death, not for anything. Before he knew what was going on, the feeling of simultaneous power and weakness overwhelmed him, and the dragon tumbled backward, letting out a screech of its own. Black dots danced before Danny’s vision but he knew he could not stop now. With the last of his remaining strength, ignoring the way the familiar rings of white light surrounded him, he pushed off the ground and flew through the air. With a cry, he breached those gray clouds once again and escaped the fantastical land he’d stumbled upon. The last thing he saw before he blacked out was the familiar sight of the Ghost Zone he knew.

Danny came to at the tower. His home. Clockwork’s home. He felt fuzzy but there was no moment of confusion, no moment where he tried to remember what happened. He knew what happened. Danny rubbed his throat. He was unaware such a wail was a power he possessed. He wondered if Clockwork knew. Somehow, he knew he did.

“So, Danny Phantom, huh?”

Danny sat up properly and looked around. They were in Danny’s room at the top of the tower, a room Clockwork gave to him as his own many years ago, and saw Clockwork staring out the ceiling length window, fiddling with the scepter he always carried.

“If you knew, why didn’t you help me?” Danny asked. He watched as Clockwork moved on to rewind another cog.

“Because I knew you would make it out,” he finally turned to face Danny. He had that ever present all-knowing smile on his face. “And if I came to help you… it would be many years before you discovered the new power you possess.”

Danny mulled that over. In another world perhaps he’d be angry at Clockwork for this. And perhaps in this world he still couldn’t help but feel just the slightest bit annoyed. But, he’s also known Clockwork for years. So, he was more aware than perhaps any other ghost that every single one of Clockwork’s actions, or lack thereof, had a purpose. Danny didn’t respond.

“This… ghostly wail, as I know you call it, is a very powerful and very destructive attack. As I am sure you are aware of by now?”

Danny nodded.

Clockwork hummed. “I trust you know to use it responsibly.” Gracefully, he floated from the window to the entrance of the room at the stairs. “Now, rest, little one.”

~~~~~~~~

Ao3 Notes: Thank you so much for your support/continued support! Have a lovely day/night!

#an early start au #danny phantom #danny phantom fanfiction #danny phantom fanfic #danny fenton #clockwork #prince aragon #lost time #renegade writes

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clarajohnson · 3 months

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the magicians s2e8

gosh i did not remember julia losing her shade during the exorcism/abortion that is. that is soooooo interesting.

losing your shade seems to make you an insufferable theatre kid

"no hurting anyone, no casting magic, no sex" oh q you're kind of awful

looked at q's and alice's hands next to each other and felt some feelings. mortifying for me.

MARGO'S PANTS !!!!!!!!!!!!

margo's klepto proclivities are so deeply charming to me

q and margo are sweet friends. "my takeaway lately is that anything can happen at any time, so just be there while you can" :-'''''''( they are so tender with each other

i love when they have extras in the cottage like sorry do you mean to tell me other people are just going to magic grad school with no complications

anyone ever pay attention to the murals on the title card? i just noticed there's a fox on it and is that just for this episode? does it change? should i have been watching this?

julia: if reynard wanted to finish me off he'd have done it by now julia as soon as she leaves the wards: immediately encounters reynard

it's so sad that reynard is so hot

don't wanna say it. don't wanna go here. shadeless julia? hot.

i screamed when q showed up lmao dude

jalph can do anything except play niffin alice he's too babygirl

shadeless julia kicking the rasp up to eleven

q took art history. say more about that quentin.

niffin alice reading about "fixing niffins" vs future alice saying she misses being a niffin... well that is just fascinating.

i remember 0% of the library contract so this will be interesting

wait where are q and kady i like the cds

why did it take penny so long to notice alice in q's head lol

margo's little robe traveling robe >>>>>

hi. so you the nymph?

julia and margo were the best people to do this dryad thing because he says two females and they share this look and you know they've just agreed to cause some unholy terror. and sure julia goes farther than margo probably would've but it shows so much promise for their dynamic i love to see them together.

niffin alice testing q on his alice knowledge all the time. kind of feels like he loved the idea of her more than the real her at the time HMMMM. phosphoromancy. my discipline, idiot.

fen, you too, sweetie. OHHHHHH MY GOD.

margo saying "they don't want me, they want the high king" JUST WAIT !!!!! JUST WAIT BABY I LOVE YOU !!!!!!! also her trembling lower lip oh god i love margo hanson so goddamn much.

time sight viewmaster is SUCH a the magicians thing lmao

dana was a great mom actually huh

i love that the lorians have little harry potter ass wands. nation of lame-os.

my loyalty will always lie with me ohhhhhh shadeless julia you're the girl of my dreams

oh you know stella maeve had to be proud of that smirk she pulls after she explodes the forest

that's stupid. you play too much dungeons and dragons. alice quinn would never play dungeons and dragons.

fuck you pay me !!!! you tell them anglerbeast!

oh yeah gosh waking up and seeing a tiny dead body probably not the best thing for q huh.

friar joseph is so fun i love his little hangout. and i love how embarrassed q seems to be to be casting the boxing spell.

niffin alice still having tenuous self esteem oh aw :-(

bet otd had so much fun playing a niffin also oh man

"everything el promised i'm gonna deliver" yeah fen married the wrong fillory royal

queerplatonic is a fat nothing but i would never even attempt to describe whatever el and margo have going on

penny signing the library contract for magic but also for kady :'-(

"glass jaw, not a surprise"

#WHATTA SHOW !!!!!!!#unauthorized magicians rewatch #the magicians #text

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dailycharacteroption · 3 months

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Deity Drop 6: Abhoth

Just as we did when be touched on Great Old Ones in a previous deity special, we are heading back to cosmic horror with our first Outer God.

But what exactly is an Outer God and how does it differ from a Great Old One? Well, a Great Old One is a demigod-level entity that has a body that can be noticeably affected by it’s mortal environs, and for all their defying of sane physics and geometry, it is possible for a mortal to fight back against such an entity and with a little luck “kill” it, forcing it into torpor or at least making it decide that being there is not worth the annoyance.

An Outer God, on the other hand, is a true deity, albeit an unknowable one that doesn’t even try, or perhaps is incapable of understanding why one would try and take a form comprehensible to the majority of mortals.

Like the Great Old Ones though, most of these entities cannot be bothered to even notice mortals, their cults often calling upon deaf ears, with only a rare few ever being granted power, perhaps as an afterthought or even without the deity realizing. While some may have specific malevolent designs, most seem content to stew in their own incomprehensibleness with no real plan beyond just existing in a way that mortals strain to understand, seeming to embody the belief that the universe is truly uncaring.

Abhoth himself is the “Source of Uncleaness”, a monstrous parent figure to all manner of horrors. His children ranging from just as formless as himself to ambulatory limbs, to surprisingly complex entities both fully formed and malformed. Most are immediately seized and consumed by him, but some escape to wander away, wandering the extradimensional tunnels of his realm until they find their way into the underground of other worlds. That’s right, many true-breeding aberrations in Pathfinder, including the classic gibbering mouther, are descended from this foul god!

All of this reflects his nature as patron of the misbegotten, an avatar of life gone wrong in violation of every natural order.

Abhoth himself is described as having a twisted and cynical personality, seeing no beauty in the world and seeking only to add cruelty to it.

This outer god is originally from Clark Ashton Smith’s Hyperborean Cycle of short stories, where he made the jump to the Call of Cthulhu and other such RPGs and then on to Pathfinder.

Though the original source describes him as grey in color, Abhoth’s art in Pathfinder paints him as a bright light (possibly glowing) blue. This may have been to help distinguish him from another cosmic horror staple in the game, the shoggoth. Indeed, for like many formless horrors, Abhoth’s only defining feature is his formlessness and tendency to form and reform various random body parts from his mass seemingly at random with varying degrees of recognizability.

While it is not given a name in Pathfinder, Abhoth’s grotto is connected to many different underground realms across various planets, and his realm itself is a maze of tunnels that he wanders through aimlessly as the spawn that survive his hunger.

As a god of fecundity, I can see some twisted remote culture venerating the Source of Uncleaness as a fertility deity, or perhaps warded against with the hope that children are born whole and fully formed. However, those that delve into his monstrous true nature may come to believe that his formlessness and cruelty are the truest expression of life, and get up to the usual nasty cult business of trying to summon him, or more likely, some of his children, and generally venerate all manner of unnatural life forms, often to the detriment of their health.

As a particularly cynical outer god, Abhoth counts none among his friends, not even his own children.

He also lacks servants in the traditional sense, being directly served by no one. However, he is able to see many worlds through the eyes of his spawn, and may even invade such a world through them on a lark.

Abhoth favors the domains of Chaos, Darkness, Earth, Madness, and Strength, with the subdomains of Caves, Ferocity, Insanity, Night, Nightmare, and Resolve. All of which reflects his cruel but not overtly malevolent demeanor, as well as his connection to caves, physical might and the horror of his own existence.

While a handful of Outer Gods have been written up in 2e, Abhoth has not gotten that treatment yet, so no list of his domains exist there yet.

Like all cosmic horror gods, Abhoth is too uncaring to offer any rewards of obedience.

With all sorts of horrors found in the depths of countless planets, you can bet your buns that Abhoth is definitely still out there in the far future of Starfinder, even if he hasn’t been officially mentioned yet.

That does it today, and yes, Abhoth’s story did inspire the demon lord Jubilex, but we’ll talk about how Pathfinder sometimes doubles up on certain deific concepts some other time. For now, eagerly await the final deity we’ll be covering this week, the first non-evil one we’ve had in a while!

#pathfinder #deity #Abhoth #Cthulhu mythos #elder mythos #pathfinder 109 in search of sanity

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sweet-star-cookie · 2 months

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tell me about perseus and orion!

Sure :D I've discussed them a little bit in the posts about the zodiac companions, but I can elaborate more on their personalities and dynamic with each other specifically here. Also I'm working on Orion's updated design sheet literally right now so you get a sneak peek at some new art that I'll be posting soon haha! Percy's reference is also currently an amalgam of art from various years, but it's good enough for now.

Perseus - The Hero(’s Monster)

Cursed with a paralyzing stare and monstrous appearance from his constellation's prior lineage of monster killing, Perseus is prone to hiding himself from others. He may share a name with the famous hero, but longs for a truly heroic path of his own instead. Though he can't actually turn anyone to stone with his gaze like the legendary Medusa, his aversion to eye contact is a byproduct of others fearing that he could. If caught off guard or near someone who has never seen him before, he will specifically hide his eyes if he can't hide the rest of himself in that moment, usually using his shield to do so. He'll then warn them not to look at him, assuming they will scream and run away if they did (and many have before). His prowess in combat is largely out of necessity for his own survival, though he does refine this skill later with Aries. Despite his ability to think and speak like any other sapient being on the Astral Plane, many still consider him to be a monster like Cetus or the previous incarnation of Hydra, and thus any particularly zealous "hero" would try to hunt him down. Even his own brother, Hercules, would use this as leverage to stage fights to "defeat" him in front of others. And, inevitably, these fights would hurt a lot of those people too. Hercules would always convince his brother that it was for the greater good, but Percy was always the one between them who ended up hurt in the end too, physically and mentally.

Perseus tried to be the hero he always wanted to be, someone who kept others safe and protected during an actual monster attack, but was ultimately betrayed. He lost part of his right horn from a blade swing intended for his neck, as the wielder assumed that Perseus was the monster that was attacking instead. Hercules claimed to "save" him by moving him in time, despite putting him in that situation in the first place. After that, Perseus gave up on his heroic desire and leaned into his monsterhood as much as possible to ward everyone off for good, and started lurking around Aries's arena. Despite being in a spirit world already, many believed that the arena was "haunted" by something, as most who dared to venture in were met with Percy's sharp teeth and glowing eyes. He is also capable of a wide range of growls, screeches and roars that echo through the hallways and shake the arena's walls. It wasn't until Aries defeated him in battle and learned of his plight that the ram decided to take Percy under his wing and train him as his own.

Because of his reclusive tendencies, getting Percy to socialize is quite the task at first. Even after he gains friends, some of that awkwardness remains, but most find it charming more than anything. He doesn't understand idioms or slang very well, thus confusing him when taking the phrase literally. For example, if you described something as "cool" he might tilt his head and say "I'm not cold, are you?"

Though often nervous and quiet, Percy is actually very sweet when you get to know him. His life has been pretty insular up to this point, albeit not by his choice, but despite everything he still possesses a young curiosity about the world. He has to do much to combat his low self-esteem, but he gets help with that along the way.

Orion - The Hunter

Once a notorious name, Orion lived up to his title's legacy as a ruthless hunter of the creatures of the Astral Plane, alongside his dogs Canis Major and Canis Minor (I don't have any art for them yet, sorry ^^')

They become loyal to him through their shared love of the thrill of the hunt, but with one caveat. Rangifer (The Reindeer) warns Orion that, should his hubris continue to go unchecked, the loyalty of his dogs will waver. And should they ever turn on each other, they will be turned to stone. Of course, Orion ignores this warning and vows to kill Rangifer to prove it, as he is one of Orion's stronger and more elusive targets.

The art you see here is Orion's current appearance, but he was fully human initially. While he was successful in killing Rangifer in the end, the deer cursed him with his current appearance as one final act of revenge. Though Orion is blind and cannot see himself, he can feel the transformation as it occurs, and he starts to piece together what's about to happen as he feels the antlers on his head.

As Rangifer warned, Orion's dogs turn on him, thinking he is now the prey they must hunt. They claw and bite him like they would any other catch, but soon turn to fighting each other over the kill. True to Rangifer's warning once again, they are then turned to stone. This experience teaches Orion the fear of his prey, and also how much he relied on his dogs to hunt at all.

Given his notoriety, Orion became a target of Hercules. Though with malicious intentions of his own, Hercules wished to use Orion as yet another way to falsely position himself as the "hero" who defeated him. Orion is rescued in time by Taurus, another target of Hercules, and they escape.

Orion isn't exactly grateful for his rescue, however, now seeing himself as bereft of any purpose at all. He stays in his prison cell on his own volition. Unfortunately, he is also one of the spirits that gets corrupted by Void magic and falls to Earth, and while corrupted he reverts back to his ruthless hunting instinct, seeing no other way while stranded in a foreign place. But, with Cassie's (and later Taurus's) kindness, Orion slowly starts to see a new path forward. He is then able to find ways to use his hunting skills for tracking rather than killing, and adopts a gentler and more peaceful attitude.

Eventually, Perseus and Orion meet via being companions to Aries and Taurus respectively, and they quickly bond over their shared desire for redemption and new purpose. Since Orion is blind, a lot of Perseus's appearance-based insecurities are largely negated when around him. Orion, already much further along in his journey to self-actualization, has much confidence that Percy can do the same and helps to guide him. He is a calming presence in contrast to Percy's more anxious demeanour.

#thanks for the ask :D #asks #tabsters #my art #my OCs #Perseus #Orion #Starglass Zodiac #SGZ #long post

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tobiasdrake · 5 months

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So Rain Code has DLC to zero in on each of the non-Yuma detectives. Gonna play through these in order of release. Who do we start with? Let's see, that would be....

Goddammit. Desuhiko.

Okay, well. At least we can get him out of the way and then move on to the characters I like. Wonder if these take place before, after, or during the main game?

Well, we're opening at the Scary Zombie Rex Museum so that eliminates "before" as an option. Either the Secret of Kanai Ward investigation is currently ongoing or this is between Makoto's defeat and the Master Detectives leaving town.

Ooh, classic cat burglar mystery going on. So it looks like we'll have to stop this notorious thief from stealing the precious jewels. Okay, we can--

Nope, never mind, we failed. That was a short DLC. Alright, who's next on the list?

Alright, shouldn't be too hard to identify the Nine-Tailed Cat. As we can clearly see from this silhouette, our target is a naked man. Bizarre choice of aesthetic for a cat burglar, but I'm not going to judge.

Go, Nudist Thief, go!

...where do you think he stashed the jewel? Probably best not to think about that.

Again!? How often do naked men steal things on your watch!?

Desuhiko's over here proving my firmly-held belief that the word "again" is the funniest word in the English language.

Will you, though? Your skillset is in intelligence gathering. You're pretty much my last choice in fisticuffs, so I'm pretty sure anyone else on the team is better suited to apprehending our streaker.

Makoto agrees. When he was faking everyone's deaths, he had you die first. He knew there'd be no doubt about that.

I wouldn't call what Desuhiko has charisma. If he were charismatic, people would be willing to buy what he's selling. Instead, his role is one of constantly embarrassing himself for comic relief but with zero self-awareness of how cringe everyone else finds him. His behavior routinely makes him the butt of the joke.

Enthusiasm is how I'd describe Desuhiko. He has enthusiasm. Despite rejection after rejection after rejection, despite constantly failing to convince anyone or even himself that he's cool, Desuhiko never stops putting out a positive façade and trying again.

Oh hey, Yakou's sapient! That places us pretty firmly in the "during" timespan. We're somewhere between Desuhiko's arrival in town and Chapter 4.

The museum must be taking this pretty seriously. Amaterasu's isolation would make it difficult to procure new art pieces for display. Pretty much whatever they already had here plus anything new that the residents create, that's it.

So far as new gems go? Amaterasu doesn't do business within the city; People were talking about that in the epilogue. That's a problem because Amaterasu may have international reach, but they're the only part of Kanai Ward that does.

So good fucking luck getting gemstones here. It's not like Makoto's going to let anyone go out and open a mine somewhere.

That being said, our naked man has to be stealing for his own private collection, right? It's not like he can take the gems to a fence. I can't imagine Kanai Ward has a thriving black market. Why would someone even become a notorious serial burglar in an isolated city-state?

Unless this is a human burglar from outside the rain cage. In which case, WHOA HO HO did he come to the wrong city.

Okay, so their reputation extends to before the Blank Week. That makes a bit more sense. It's possible Kanai Ward had a black market before the isolation. Either way, the possibility of an aristocrat stealing for their own private collection remains as well.

That doesn't sound so bad, honestly. I'm glad Yuma's not on this case. A cat burglar who robs from museums hardly warrants a death feral regeneration sentence.

That's where the nudity comes in. It draws the eye away from the face, and that's if you don't look away immediately out of embarrassment. Brilliant, really.

Sorry, Desuhiko, but I think I'm on Team Kitsune. Robbing a megacorporation barely even constitutes a crime.

I AM 100% ON TEAM KITSUNE. Why would we even want to thwart these robberies? Desuhiko's pride? That and a dozen coins is worth 12 shien.

Oh, it is Desuhiko's pride at stake. I thought I was being dismissive.

Wow, I aggressively do not care about the stakes of this conflict. Let the Nine-Tailed Cat keep pissing in Yomi's corn flakes. It's not like they're hurting anyone.

Oh no, you're mentioned on the seventh paragraph here. "Yellow stranger spotted shaking fist impotently at the burglar."

Hey, I'm all for bagging on Yakou for being a shit detective. But this sounds a hell of a lot like Yomi's problem, not ours.

Yuma does enough of that shit as it is. Do you have any idea how frequently he nearly gets shot? The answer may surprise you.

This was all about impressing a girl. That makes sense. I am now even less invested in the stakes than I was before.

Sound advice, Yakou.

It's amazing how much less irritating his dismissive reluctance to do anything becomes when it's Desuhiko on the receiving end instead of Yuma.

Alas, as with Yuma and Kurumi, Yakou's greatest weakness in reining in his Detectives shows itself once again: His stern disapproval is no match for a brisk jogging pace.

At least we can be sure that didn't change when he turned feral. Yakou's speed has always maxed out at a shamble, so his zombie's barely changed in that regard.

#master detective archives: rain code #drake plays rain code #desuhiko thunderbolt

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longveil · 1 year

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The Book of Burdens

[ Photo by Taylor Flowe on Unsplash ]

In the months that followed the foxfire’s loss, Seraanna buried herself in the Scrollkeeper’s Sanctum. Ensconced within the Temple of the Jade Serpent, the library held works that pre-dated the Great Sundering itself - scrolls copied and recopied dutifully over the centuries, growing more ornate with each rendition as earlier parchment succumbed to the inevitability of age.

But it was writing of unexpected provenance, a children’s history, that sent the ren’dorei on a month-long journey across Pandaria. To Kun-Lai and the Townlong Steppes, Krasarang and the Vale of Eternal Summers, that wellspring still recovering from N’zoth’s ill-fated ascendancy.

From the mouths of babes.

Jun-Seo was seated at her desk within the Sanctum, glasses perched upon the aged monk’s nose as she transcribed one of several crumbling scrolls for preservation. She caught only a flicker of motion from the corner of her eye, looking up as a familiar form approached - trailing shadow and laden with intent.

“Scrollkeeper,” Seraanna murmured, “I would… give question to you.”

“Lady Longveil. What would you have of me?” Jun-Seo placed her quill aside and scattered a pawful of sand over the still-wet ink of her efforts before offering a shallow, seated bow to her guest. Then ren’dorei’s patronage of the Sanctum was no secret among the Temple’s monks, and it afforded her tolerance - and a modicum of respect. If only a modicum.

Seraanna drew closer, placing parchment of her own upon the monk’s desk. “I have been to study… the legacy of your Emperor Shaohao. The writings found at the temples of the Celestials that… detail his burden when faced with prophecy of the Great… Sundering.”

Jun-Seo nodded in acknowledgment. “He unburdened himself of doubt and despair, fear, anger, hatred, and violence, giving his last breath to protect his people from the doom,” deep brown eyes regarded Seraanna, “your people engendered.”

If only a modicum.

“… yes.” If Seraanna’s murmurings were softer, neither chose to comment. “But I have question of these… words.” Slender fingers gestured to the parchment, faint wisps following behind, to indicate a transcription rendered in Seraanna’s own graceful hand. For a moment, Jun-Seo was envious of the other woman’s artistry; the calligraphy even on this field transcription easily the match of any monk within the Sanctum. But the envy was released with a skill of born of long practice as Jun-Seo adjusted her glasses to read the flowing script, recognized immediately as a passage from the Book of Burdens:

…Shaohao meditated for three days and three nights, for the counsel of the Jade Serpent was unclear. How could one purge oneself of all doubt?

Weary of waiting, Shaohao’s traveling companion the Monkey King whittled a strange grimacing visage out of bamboo. He urged the Emperor to place the mask of doubt on his face…

While mischief was the Monkey King’s motivation, the mask worked - As Shaohao pulled the mask away, his doubts took on a physical form. For seven hours they fought, until the Sha of Doubt was buried.

“The… mask. All writings, all… temples speak the same.” The ren’dorei’s lambent gaze found Jun-Seo. “Masks, made of the Monkey King’s hand, which drew… forth shadow of… the Sha. Of the fallen god Y’shaarj.”

Jun-Seo frowned, one paw raised in an all-but-reflexive gesture of warding. “Do not speak the Old God’s name here, Lady Longveil. Your welcome is not without limits.”

Seraanna inclined her head, artfully tousled hair falling into her eyes. “My… apologies, Scrollkeeper,” she murmured. “Yet I would know if any still… practice this art, the making of such masks as… described of eld.”

“Few in recent history.” The monk’s attention went to the walls of the Sanctum, heavy with scrolls and tomes. “And none since your people both freed and defeated the Old God’s last remains. Only one. A Master Xyolo, lost to us before the Sha fell. He did take an apprentice - one of your own people, I’m told.”

Deep brown eyes fell back to Seraanna. “But she’s not been seen for years. However, Master Xyolo entrusted some of his writings to the Temple.” Jun-Seo beckoned to a younger pandaren garbed in unadorned robes, who scurried to the Scrollkeeper’s call. “Acolyte, see the Lady Longveil to the northern wing, eighth rack, second shelf.”

Jun-Seo’s attention returned to Seraanna. “You should find Master Xyolo’s writings there. They’re of his own hand, and are not to leave the Sanctum." The elder monk paused, then added, "I do hope you respect the deference the Temple has offered you, Lady Longveil.”

A faded smile drew at dark-painted lips as Seraanna coiled her own parchment. “Of… course, Scrollkeeper. It is not that I… would think of abusing your trust.” She turned lambent regard to the approaching acolyte before glancing back briefly to Jun-Seo. “Shadows guide your… path.”

The ren’dorei’s parting words were offered almost carelessly, her steps silent as she followed the acolyte to the Sanctum’s northern wing.

“And your patronage,” Jun-Seo muttered after Seraanna left earshot, “is appreciated moreso the less we must suffer it.”

With a deep sigh, the Scrollkeeper adjusted her glasses again and returned to her own transcription, pushing uncertain thoughts from her mind. Uneasily had the Temple borne the ren’dorei’s presence since her companion had... failed to return. Yet her patronage had seen many works preserved that might have otherwise crumbled to time, and thus was valued. Legend had it that Doubt was the first Sha defeated by Shaohao. In the wake of her Temple's patron, could Jun-Seo offer any less?

#longveilstories #| Masks |#Pandaria #mists and circles

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coffeejoshy · 1 year

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M. Ward - A Man in the Moon, or, An Attempt at Translation

Music, theatre, canvas, the ballet or the screen; these are luxuries for so many of us. ‘Privilege’ might even be more apt given the notion that art is largely seen as ‘a thing to be enjoyed but which is not essential; a frivolity’. Ethan Hawke (of all people) recently gave my favourite articulation of why the arts are so necessary: because until you experience a feeling so incredibly deep that gives you cause to wonder, to think “has anybody else ever really felt like this?”, you have no way of knowing just how essential art can be.

“That’s when art is not a luxury, it’s actually sustenance”, he puts it.

Recently I got to see M. Ward perform his 20th anniversary tribute to his indie-folk magnum opus ‘Transfiguration of Vincent’. It’s a dark album peppered with fleeting spots of bright, written in the throes of grieving after the titular Vincent O’Brien, a friend of Ward’s, passed away. We don’t learn much of anything specific about Vincent over the course of the album, and nor should we. What we do experience over the album’s course, however, is the breadth of emotions Ward experiences in relation to his friend, and the downward spiral that accompanies those feelings as he watches Vincent’s gradual slip from the mortal coil.

Describing the album is difficult for me, because I find it difficult to ‘rate’ (a silly thing music lovers occasionally do), or ‘praise’ a work of art so subsumed in the grief of its artist and the tragedy of its subject. Talking about art in this way feels insulting at times, and never more so than for works as intimate as this. These are songs to be felt, not described.

And yet here is the paradox; I feel so strongly about this album and its artist that not evangelising it feels as impossible a task as explaining the effect it has on me.

Anyway, here we are.

On stage, Ward has a curious presence. He’s more idiosyncratic than charismatic, and instead carries himself with quiet confidence, and his guitar with a crooked left elbow. He isn’t particularly talkative, but the little he did say gave the impression of an incredibly humble man, and his husky voice and greying hair gives him this air of folksy charm that’s really quite, well, charming.

In interviews this seems to be much the case as well; in one radio interview from 2009 when asked how he would describe his then new album ‘Hold Time’ he answered (hilariously) “well, it’s my new album and some people will like it, some people won’t”. Other interviews also see him coming across as reserved and painfully shy about his creative process, not because he’s afraid of giving away trade secrets, but because he’s almost dismissive of the validity of his methods and his art. He’s wilfully determined to refrain from explanations of his art’s ‘meanings’ beyond vague outlines, as was the case for 2020’s ‘Migration Stories’, in his words a “sci-fi fast-forward to a more silent night many generations from here to a maybe-era where movement is free again”.

While much of this likely amounts to wild postulation about a man’s internal feelings, if there’s one accusation that’s easy to level at Ward, it’s that he’s an old soul. He’s cited Neil Young, Daniel Johnston, Billie Holiday, Howlin’ Wolf, and John Mahey as influences (“Transfiguration” is a reference to a Mahey album with a similar title), he records everything analogue, and even completes his demos on a Tascam four-track that he’s owned since his teenage years. Sonically his music evokes shades of Nick Drake, early Dylan, Jackson C. Frank and even Bowie at times. In today’s context, even the model of a solo singer-songwriter writing intimate analogue guitar music feels like an archetype on the brink of extinction.

Above all, Ward seems captured by the task of creating music as timeless as that of his predecessors.

The point that I suppose I’ve been dancing around in all this exposition is that M. Ward’s music has affected me very deeply.

I’ve spent so much of recent years trying to consume as much music as I can, chasing new sounds and bizarre voices to fulfil some craving of curiosity that is never truly satiated for more than a short time. In all that noise, it’s a fortunate wonder I didn’t overlook Transfiguration of Vincent and other M. Ward projects for their unassuming modes. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fully explain to someone the inward-puncturing existential grief that a song like “Dead Man”makes me feel, or the utter stillness that “Real Silence” gives me.

Crucially, though, I don’t think I need to try anymore. Writing this helps, for one, but it’s music like this that gives me the kind of unfathomable joys and sorrows that our friend Ethan Hawke was referring to. It’s music like M. Ward’s that reminds me why I need music, and though it may seem fairly obvious an observation (I suppose all the best ones are), it’s the reminder that some things cannot be described; they must be felt, transfigured by poets and writers into an essence distilled for the rest of us.

#m ward #monsters of folk #she & him #transfiguration of Vincent #indie folk #music reviews #nick drake #bob dylan #billie holiday #howlin’ wolf #John Mahey #daniel johnston #folk music #americana

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