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#in my old man gem era
gemkun · 13 days
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good morning to everyone especially ratio’s fiancé 🥰🥰
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joelsdagger · 4 months
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all the things i would do
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read on ao3 | resources on how to help Palestine here <3
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
summary: porn no plot. joel finds an article of clothing that belongs to you and there’s nothing holding him back once he gets his hands on them. 
rating: explicit, 18+ MDNI 
content warnings: [Post Outbreak], jackson era, established relationship, implied age gap (25+ years), joel is canon age, slightly domestic joel (blink and it’s gone), joel has a panty kink, panty sniffing, masturbation (m), soft dom!joel, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex, pet names (use of baby, sweet baby, sweetheart, love), smidgen of fluff (these two are so in love it’s sickening), an inkling of a size kink (but in my head joel’s at least 6’5, he’s a BIG big man in my brain), joel’s filthy mouth, praise kink, hint of sub!joel, nipple play, one use of the word ‘Daddy’ (moots don’t look at me I couldn’t help it), slight tummy kink/tummy worship, cum eating.  No use of Y/N. No physical descriptions of reader other than having hair long enough that it’s past her shoulders. 
word count: 3.1k
A/N: so, a few things before we get started. i’m new to writing fics and this is my first time publicly putting out a fic that wasn’t just for shits and giggles for my friends and i and i’m so fucking nervous like the amount of times i’ve panicked over this is a little embarrassing to admit but we ball. that being said, i love and welcome constructive criticism as long as you’re nice about it. shout out to @skrunkly-scrimblo for encouraging me to actually write this all those months ago and for all your brilliant ideas and encouragement and practically holding my hand through it since day one, @aurasjournal for being such a gem and helping me with the cover for this fic and hyping me up, and thank you to @papurgaatika and @nevergoingbacknowshine for being so kind and encouraging and listening to my 3am rants when i was anxious. another big thank you to kat, aura, and naya for beta reading and helping me during the editing process. all four of you have been absolute sweethearts despite me being a pussy about posting this. okay i’m done rambling, enjoy some of the filth that constantly plagues my brain <3 
Joel’s eyes blink open slowly, the sun peeks into the bedroom through the curtains across the room. For a moment he searches for you beside him, but remembers you’ve already left for the day out on patrol duty. Joel harrumphs, still bothered over letting you and Ellie bully him out of his patrol duties. “You’ve been hurting yourself too much baby,” You had told him a few weeks ago over breakfast. “Yeah, you’re an old man now. You fall over one more time and you’re done.” Ellie snickers from her seat in the kitchen. Joel just rolled his eyes before turning his attention back to the dishes, but you had caught the small grin on his face when he turned his head back to the sink. Against the two of you, Joel never stood a chance.
Joel drags himself out of bed towards his dresser to grab a new set of clothes. He throws on a blue shirt that fits a little snug on his well built form, the thin material stretches over his broad shoulders, across his strong back, and pulls taut over his biceps and he grunts as he pulls a pair of dark wash jeans over his strong, thick thighs, securing them in place with a distressed leather belt that he’s had for years. Once he’s dressed, he takes in the mess in the room. He notices both of your clothes from the night before are still scattered around the room.  He bends down to pick them up, he grunts as his knees pop when he stands back up. He starts gathering them up to toss them into the hamper already overflowing with clothes. The last article of clothing out of place is yours. Your black lace panties on the armchair in the corner. He grabs them and his eyes widen when he feels it, the center still wet from him making you come earlier. His cock instantly hardened in his jeans.  
Joel turns on his heel and in just a few long strides he’s in your shared bathroom. He deliberately avoids the mirror, knowing that if he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror he’ll disgust himself even more. Briskly, he sets the laundry hamper on the tile near the bathtub. Joel brings the thin black lace up to his face, closes his eyes and he sniffs them, breathing you in completely. He groans at the scent of you. His cock painfully hard now. He knows he shouldn't but he can't help it. He’s addicted to you and he knows he can’t wait til you get home. He knows he can’t wait to have his way with you, dig into you any way that you will let him. So, without another second of hesitation, Joel unbuckles his belt, a clink from the metal hitting the edge of the counter, unzips his jeans and takes his thick, heavy cock out, and then brings your soaked panties to his angry, leaking tip. His precum meets the wetness of your panties and he hisses at the feeling. With the wetness of the gusset of your panties acting as a lubricant, Joel begins to slowly stroke himself, wanting to take his time, savoring every feeling, relishing in it. Joel soon becomes too desperate for release, he quickly loses control, his hips moving faster to fuck his hand, his hand tightening around his cock, the grip almost painful now. His eyes are screwed shut, as he throws his head back, the night before instantly replaying in his head.
He had just gotten out of the shower to find you sprawled out on your stomach on your side of the bed, ankles crossed in the air. He rakes his eyes over your form until his eyes land on your ass. You were wearing the panties he was currently fucking his hand with. You didn’t notice him stepping out of the bathroom, too busy looking at the photo album you had just put together. It’s relatively new, most of the pages empty, yet you were looking at the photos you had taken earlier that week at the Tipsy Bison. The one that had your attention was a photo of you and Joel that Ellie had taken. Neither of you looked at the camera, the photo had captured you mid-laugh, head tilting back, eyes shut, it was a full belly laugh at something Joel had said. Joel’s arm was around your shoulder tucking you into his side, smiling down at you, a rare type of smile, one reserved only for you. 
Leaning on the entryway, his arms crossed over his broad, tanned chest, he smiles at the view. You’re in nothing but your panties in his bed, in his home. His feet move without thinking, walking over to you. He brushes your hair over your shoulder, tracing his fingers over your soft supple skin down your back and over the lace of your panties, and lightly pinches your ass. “So pretty sweet baby,” he says shyly, almost like he’s speaking to himself. You turn your head to look up at him, smiling. Wordlessly, he took the photo album from your hands, placing it on your nightstand. He gets in the bed, carefully sitting on his knees while attempting to avoid loosening the off-white towel around his waist. You roll onto your back to face him, his silver curls still damp from the shower as water still drips onto his strong shoulders. He combs his hair back after a shower and the ends tend to curl up around his ears. It’s been months since you last cut his hair but you like his hair longer, you had whispered to him in the darkness of your bedroom, your naked, sweaty limbs tangled up together between his sheets. From that night on he hasn’t asked you to cut it for him. He likes it because you like it. 
While you’re busy ogling him, Joel’s hands immediately reach to trace the floral lace pattern before toying with the little satin black bow at the center front. His rough, calloused hands slide up your bare thighs, wrapping his large hands around your thighs and he pries open your legs, his hazel eyes locked in on your center like a bullseye and you notice the cocky smirk he’s got plastered on his face, pleased with himself that he’s already got you wet for him. 
He brings two thick fingers to slide over your covered cunt. He feels the wetness on the material and he pulls back to look up at you and finds your attention on his fingers. “What a mess you made, pretty girl,” he murmurs. You’re watching the movement of his fingers, entranced by his fingers teasing your pussy as he glides them up and down your slit. He clicks his tongue at you, “so wet for me huh baby? Always so wet for me. So perfect,” he smirks to himself as he gently pulls your panties to the side, revealing your aching, needy cunt. He lowers his head placing gentle kisses on the soft skin of your inner thigh, his lips tracing and peppering your skin all the way towards your center, his mouth hovering over the place you need him most and you shiver beneath him. 
“Joel,” you whisper, he chuckles seeing you all worked up for him. “Baby please,” you whimper. 
“What is it baby?” he tuts, “use your words, sweet girl,” he tilts his head slightly with a smug grin on his face. His fingers move up and down your folds. 
“N-need them inside me, p-please,” you whimper as you claw at his forearms, clutching them for stability. 
“Alright baby, lemme taste her first,” He lays flat on his stomach, moves his arms under your legs, and hoists them up over his broad shoulders. He lowers his mouth onto your cunt and the tip of his tongue licks through your folds. He hums at the sweet taste of you on his tongue. He flattens his tongue and licks a long thick stripe and he groans lowly, the vibrations making you squirm under him. 
“Fuck, more baby,” you beg. You gasp at the hook of his nose bumping your clit. Your hands fly to his hair, eyes closing swiftly, brows furrowed as you let out a loud moan. 
“There she is,” he smirks. He flicks his tongue over your clit. His eyes slip closed as he relishes in the noises leaving your mouth, like music to his ears. Your hips buck up into his face, selfishly grinding your cunt for more. Joel’s eyes flicker back up your face, “eyes on me sweetheart,” he murmurs. Your eyes snap open to watch him as he brings his fingers back up to your cunt, two thick fingers dip into you and you can hear the wet squelch as he eases his fingers in, simultaneously, he circles his tongue around your clit. He pumps his fingers slowly in and out of you, his tongue lapping at your cunt. You feel the pressure building up more intensely inside of your belly and then you’re chanting his name as he curls his fingers inside you, petting at the spongy spot he knows will break you. He closes his mouth around your clit and he sucks hard. 
“Fuck, Joel, yes yes,” Your hips bucking up into his face, your legs start to shake as you come on his face and your cunt tightening around his fingers, a loud strangled moan filling the air. 
“That’s my girl,” he says as he watches you gasp above him, pressing a quick kiss to your clit. Your eyes flutter open just in time to see him removing his fingers, all wet and shiny, and putting them in his slick covered mouth, sucking them clean. 
Softly, he grabs your ankles, pulling you down towards the edge of the bed eliciting a giggle. His favorite sound…well one of his favorites. His favorite being the next sound that comes out of your mouth when he quickly pulls your panties down. He sees the wet shine of your cum in the center and his face lights up with glee. “You made such a mess ‘a your panties, baby,” he tuts before tossing them across the room. He unties the towel from his waist and lets it fall and it pools around his legs, revealing his thick, heavy cock, the tip angry and beads of precum seeping out of the slit. You place your hands around your thighs, slowly pulling them apart, presenting your already spent pussy to him once again and he groans roughly.
He leans forward, his fingers running through your folds once more, and you quiver at his touch. He gathers your cum on his fingers and strokes himself twice before he dips the wide tip of his cock inside of you. A whine leaves your lips. That. That was his favorite sound. He doesn’t push in further… he doesn’t move an inch. He’s teasing you…wants you to ask nicely for it. Like clockwork his voice laced with honey he says “Ask for it baby, ask for my cock.” 
Desperate, you whine again “please joel… I need your cock.” Your needy fingers trail lightly over his soft belly, sitting up slightly, you place soft kisses from his belly button down to the dark patch of hair above his cock, his body trembles at the feeling of your lips ghosting over his belly and a breathy moan escapes his lips. He laces his fingers with yours, bringing your hands near your head, his large form encompassing your smaller frame, he lowers himself down over you, his lips brushing against yours. “Baby, please. Please fuck my pussy” you mewl. He pushes his cock deeper, deeper, and deeper til the head of his cock kisses your cervix, provoking a loud groan from him against your ear as he nestles himself into you, where he belongs. 
“See baby all you had to do was ask politely” Joel cooes. He drags his hips back, leaving only his tip inside you once again and you clench around him. “Fuck, goddamn you’re fucking tight,” he grits. Slowly he starts thrusting his tip in and out. 
You whine again, “Baby don’t be mean. I want all of it.” 
“Shh..I know baby, I know,” he soothes. Then in one long single thrust, he wedges his cock back inside of you to the hilt, bottoming out into your cunt, hitting the spot that only he knows with a loud ragged groan into the crook of your neck. His cock is stretching you out, feeling every twitch, he’s everywhere and it’s overwhelming. He hitches your legs up towards your chest, opening you up more, your chest pressed tightly against his, he drags the weight of his cock languidly between your slick, moaning at the wet sound of his balls slapping against your ass fills the room. 
When you look up at him it’s like you can see a lightbulb go off in his head and before you know it, Joel’s large hands grab the swell of your ass, he picks you up, and repositions you both so he’s on his back and has you sitting on his thick cock. He wants you to ride him. In this position you can feel him in the deepest parts of your belly and it hurts just a little bit but you find pleasure in it, you always have.  
Leaning forward, you place your hands on the headboard and arching your back a bit more, Joel's head falls back down onto the pillows. At the sudden change of the angle, his eyes shut for just a second before he’s snapping them right back open. He doesn’t want to miss a single thing. He wants to see it all.  He watches how your breasts bounce as you move and quickly, he leans up to catch a nipple in his mouth. He’s licking and sucking all over your pebbled nipple and then his teeth graze along the hardened peak before swiftly pulling it between his teeth. He moves onto the other and he flicks his tongue over your nipple, he sucks and nips at it lightly before he lets your tit fall from his mouth, admiring the slight bounce of your breast before his eyes lock in on your face, watching your face contort and your mouth open while you seek your high. It's his favorite thing, watching you like this. 
“Jesus Christ, look at you, you’re takin’ me so well,” he groans. 
The grip of his hands on your hips tightens but doesn’t guide you, just seeks some ounce of control. You lean forward more so your clit brushes ever so slightly against the dark patch of curls at his base. The friction makes you approach your orgasm quickly. Joel’s eyes flicker down to where you two are connected, taking pleasure in seeing his cock splitting you open, watching as it disappears deep inside of you. 
“That’s it, baby. Fuck….use me. Fuck yourself on daddy’s cock, atta girl,” You roll your hips faster, grinding harder on his cock, greedy and desperate to come again. “C’mon baby, come all over my cock.” 
His words and your clit repeatedly pressing against him make your hips stutter and you clench around him as your orgasm finally washes over you, harder than before. Your body goes limp on his chest. Joel doesn’t let up, he grabs your thighs and lifts his hips, relentlessly fucking his cock up into you. His cock slams into you so hard the wet slapping sound of your bodies fills the room. 
You turn your head and press your lips to his ear, nipping at his earlobe, you spur him on “c’mon Joel, come for me baby,” you softly rasp. “C’mon baby, for me, do it for me love,” you whisper and he whimpers, his thrusts becoming faster, more erratic. You bite down on his shoulder to muffle the whines that leave your mouth as he fucks into you harder, your walls tighten around him, his cock twitches inside you before he hastily pulls out with a long pained groan and with his cock between your bodies, his cum spurts out, thick and warm, coating his stomach. A moment passes and you lower your lips down his chest, feeling the rough edges of his skin underneath your lips as you pepper open mouthed kisses along his strong torso, the soft skin of his belly, over the jagged scar on his lower abdomen, all the way down his happy trail, you feel him shiver beneath you. 
You sit up on his thighs, locking your eyes with his, you bring your fingers down to his cum on his stomach. You look back up at him, your gaze meeting his as you swirl your fingers twice in his spend and bring your shiny, sticky coated fingers up to your mouth, closing your lips around your fingers, sucking them clean. His mouth agape, he’s staring back at you while you use your fingers to lick up his cum, “dirty girl, one’a these days you’re gonna gimme a heart attack woman,” he groans. 
The memory of it all…you riding him, your naked breasts bouncing, his cock impaling you, watching it disappear inside you over and over, your cunt clamping down around his cock and the echo of your moans as you came last night playing in his head sends him hurtling over the edge.
His cock twitches in his hand, his other hand slamming down on the counter, he groans your name raggedly and his thighs quiver as he comes hard into his fist, harder than he ever has when jerking himself off. He pumps his release into your panties, hot, thick ropes of his cum painting your panties. His cum spurting out seemingly endless for a man his age. 
If you were here in front of him he would pull the fabric up over your thighs, making you wear your cum filled panties before going about the rest of your day.
But you’re not here so instead he brings the cum soaked panties up to his face, eyeing his spend and your wetness for a moment. He stops himself and contemplates the idea in his head as he eyes the glistening sheen over the center. Just as quickly as the thought infiltrated his head, he decides against it and bunches up the thin material and tosses them in the old laundry basket sat in the corner of your shared bathroom. Joel tucks himself back into his jeans, washes his hands, limping slightly as he walks out of your bedroom and closes the door behind him leaving your laundry for another day.
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harunovella · 3 months
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*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ love language (verse iv); s.g.
synopsis: you and gojo go on your first double date... or is it really? content: canon divergence (teen!gojo era), fem!reader, hopeless romantic gojo, best bros satoru and suguru bickering as always, gojo may have had a 'help I've fallen on your boobs and I can't get up' moment, bestie shoko, not beta read (sorry for any errors!) note: another addition to my gojo anthology series! this one was sm fun to write, I love writing gojo and geto being nothing but idiots tbh... wanna be tagged? lmk in the replies!
"A dinner? A fancy dinner?" Shoko asked as you nodded. "What's a bunch of sixteen year olds gonna do at a fancy dinner?" She raised a brow in confusion. Ever since being paired by Yaga with Shoko, the two of you have grown quite close. You were more than thankful, as much as you loved your own little trio (including Nanami and Haibara), it was nice to have a friend that wasn't... well, a male. 
Not that there was something wrong with that, you saw Nanami like a sort of twin—though you were a bit more on the social side—he got along with you the most. Then there was Haibara, who was an absolute sweetheart and a gem, the energy both you and your blond twin needed. However, seeing as Ieiri was your senior, there was quite a lot to learn from her—outside from the jujutsu world. 
There was also Geto and Gojo... Geto was an interesting person to be around. He had dark humor but also was nothing but kind to you. Gojo, on the other hand...
"A double date?!" Satoru exclaimed as he was alone with Suguru after you invited the two young men to the dinner you told Shoko about. 
Arching an eyebrow, Suguru crossed his arms. "Who said this is a double date? In your delusional world, you're dating our little junior when she only sees you as a friend—"
"That's a lie!" Gojo snapped, earning a snicker from his best friend. "I'll have you know we get along very well, we hangout a lot! And— and we have a lot of fun conversations!"
"Sounds fun," Geto said sarcastically. "We all know you're madly in love with her. However, we have no idea how she feels about you."
"Then explain the double date, huh?" Gojo was now the one to cross his arms, tapping his foot. "You and Shoko, me and my mochi?"
Sighing, Suguru pinched the bridge of his nose. "Again, not a double date. It's four friends going to a nice restaurant to support one of our friend's family members. Nothing more, nothing less," he explained, only for everything to go into one ear and out the other for the white haired boy before him. 
Satoru was in his own world, delusional as always, eyes sparkling at the thought of you in a cute dress. Heels or no heels, makeup or not, he just couldn't help but fantasize about how beautiful you were going to look tonight!
"Earth to Satoru?" Geto waved his hand in front of his best friend, only to laugh. "Thinking about how cute she'll look tonight, huh?"
"Yeah..." Gojo nodded, a face of pure ecstasy, as if he were about to drool. 
"Maybe I'll swap dates, you can have Shoko, I'll have our beautiful—"
"No!" Satoru shouted, instantly jumping Suguru. "She's my date for the night!"
"Good luck with that, if you look like an idiot right now thinking about her, just imagine you tonight!" Suguru laughed as he shoved Satoru off of him. "You're gonna look like a complete idiot!"
"You're not discreet..." Geto mumbled towards Gojo as the young man sat beside you, cheek pressed in the palm of his hand as he ever so casually gazed at you. You were in the middle of a conversation with Shoko, something about a movie you both recently had seen together. Too lost in your discussion, laughing and enjoying the evening as Suguru watched his best friend look like he was in a trance. "You are literally staring..." Furrowing his eyebrows as a look of slight disgust took over his face, Suguru kicked Satoru. 
"Shh," Gojo brushed off, kicking him back. 
"You're lucky she's in her own world with Shoko to even hear us," Geto kicked again, feeling his best friend constantly kick back. Gojo was too focused on you to even pay him any mind.
The restaurant, although fancy, was quite lively and practically filled to the brim. The reservations were endless and everyone that came and went looked like they came from money. Satoru and Suguru wore similar suits, solely because they bought them last minute and ended up with the same look (Satoru was NOT happy, but Suguru found it very funny). Shoko, after seeing them, called them tweedledee and tweedledum... You, on the other, found it cute. 
Cute... Gojo kept hearing your words echo in his head. You thought he, himself, was cute?! Forget Suguru, you said he was cute! He couldn't help but indulge in it as he gazed at you practically the whole dinner. For a split second, he did acknowledge the fact that you looked beyond gorgeous. In a white, fitted dress, hugging your curves with a sweetheart neckline... It was safe to say his mind was split in two. In particular, the two brain cells he had. Half of his mind was floating in the clouds of your compliment while the other half was focused on the top of your breasts (practically where his eyes kept falling to). He was... somewhat of a gentleman, he just couldn't help that dirty side of him. You were beautiful! He wanted you!
In his defense, he was used to seeing you in your uniform jacket, skirt, and tights... the times you weren't, you were always dressed cute and comfortable. Never had he seen you like this, curves and all. 
Reaching over the table and yanking on Gojo's hair, Geto stifled a laugh as his best friend snapped his head and growled. "Rude, I was busy!" He hissed, reaching over and tugging on the bangs that hung over the dark haired young man's forehead. 
Caught up with your conversation with Shoko (and not entirely hearing the commotion beside you with all the various voices around you in the restaurant) a sudden gasp left the brunette as she watched it all happen before her in slow motion. Gojo and Geto shoved one another, completely forgetting where they were as others nearby watched in confusion. 
From one second to the next, you were knocked off your chair, head thudding with the ground as a body collapsed against you. Various gasps and whispers were heard as you winced. Blinking a few times and trying to sit up, you felt a pressure against your chest. Both Shoko and Suguru (who was pulled to his feet by Shoko), stared at the disaster before them. Satoru, with his face planted against your chest, as you stared at him, wide eyed. 
"Satoru!" Shoko exclaimed, smacking his head as he lifted it, staring at you with a shared blush, before both of his friends yanked him up. 
"I— I am so sorry!" He exclaimed, reaching for your hand to help you up as you looked stunned. 
"God, you two are so immature. Before we get kicked out, take her home and I'll handle this," Shoko tsked as you blinked, only to snap out of your daze. 
"It's— It's okay! I'll handle this! I invited you all—"
"No, you hit your head hard, let me handle this. Dummie over here will take you," Shoko kicked Satoru's calf. "Go. Now."
Without second thinking his actions, Gojo took your hand and lead you out. Both of you ignored the displeased stares and gossip that spread over the four kids who "shouldn't have been allowed into a restaurant like this in the first place." 
Walking out, Satoru stopped in his tracks before turning to face you. "I'm so sorry about... my face being in your... Anyway, are you okay?" He asked, using his free hand to gently touch the back of your head. "There's no bump, but, are you alright?"
"I— It's okay, I'm not hurt," you swore as you nodded your head, looking up at him with your doe eyes. Gojo swore his heart grew two times its size. "I promise," you softly smiled. 
Nodding, a small smile grew on the young man's lips. He couldn't help but gaze at you, softness in his eyes as he kept his hand on the back of your head. Silence weaved its way between the two of you. Nothing uncomfortable. You stood there for what felt like hours, looking at one another and nearly forgetting what you were doing or where you were. 
The sound of honking snapped the two of you out of it as you realized you were out in the open, with people walking by and cars driving along. 
Clearing his throat, Satoru lowered his hand from your head and kept his other in yours. "Let's get you home, yeah?"
tag list: @bakananya @strangehuman101 @thirtykiwis @sillygoosegoose (some of u I sadly couldn't tag!)
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blorbocedes · 4 months
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i kinda have a basic idea Brocedes lore, like the timeline and everything. but were there moments post Monaco 2014 till the end of 2016 where Lewis and Nico had some nice and genuinely fun moments or were they all awkward and distant with each other?
the answer to this is complicated. well, my header gif happened months after monaco 14, in Abu Dhabi 14. so this is nico congratulating lewis for winning his 2nd championship (1st with merc) and its way after lewis said "we're not friends." so like all things brocede they're.. Like That (whyre u holding a man you're not friends with by the nape of his neck 😳😳😳🤨)
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Ladies and gentlemen, a short look into the not so distant past...
obviously every year as the silver war progressed, tensions arose but that didn't mean they couldn't stand to look at each other. those 3 years of early merc domination era HAM-ROS were on every podium, and they were pretty happy spraying champagne on each other as I've documented here, and here
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this is a video from December 2015 stars and cars where they're being very playful and teasing each other
this is them wishing each other happy birthday in 2015
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this is nico on lewis' snapchat
this is nico playing football on lewis' snapchat (you can hear lewis snicker)
this is lewis lowering nico's chair on purpose in 2015
this is nico umm pretending to hold a bottle for lewis to pee in while DR live slug reacts Hungarian Grand Prix 2016
this is them giggling together at a sponsor event in 2016
this is them teasing each other about being old in 2016
there's definitely podiums and cool-down rooms where things are Tense and they're Avoiding Eye Contact/Talking to each other, depending on how the race went. but there's also them amused and laughing together such as mexico 16 and aus 16
we all remember the iconic nico throws cap at lewis but the crazy part is this was them hugging moments before,
and this is them partying together after that
this is AD16 and lewis is saying he likes presscons when it's just him and nico 🥲
this whole press con is ahhhhhh. pain
lewis' own words on how they were:
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this isn't an exhaustive list, there's many more, but rather so you have an idea that although the popular narrative is once lewis said we're not friends post monaco 14 they never looked at each other again it's not exactly true. things never was like they're childhood besties again, but they also didn't outright despise each other despite what fandom might speculate. but that doesn't mean things weren't awkward and tense too, esp in merc meetings post race! cause it was! but they also had some sweet and fun moments in between :) such is the bittersweet nature of brocedes
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honey-milk-depresso · 4 months
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Batboys watching anime with reader
You know my ass went FULL ON LOCK MODE with Tim. I went crazy- 💀
***S/o is above 18, which means characters below are also aged up!
Doing requests until 1 Feb! Please see my pinned post and read the request rules on the navi! Thank you!🩷
Batbros watching anime with you
Dick Grayson
He’s watched a few 90s anime before, more the basic ones like One Piece and Pokémon, and he probably still watches them to this day. Boy has old CDs he has and you should probably try finding a Blue Ray (or use his if he can have Tim help fix it because it’s good as dead 💀) because he’s popping in every CD of old anime’s he have lying about.
“Wow, I didn’t know I had cowboy bebop! Or Slam Dunk!” He got a few rare gems, which makes it all the more fun to sit down on the couch under a blanket as you huddle and watch the nostalgic 90s anime shows together while eating popcorn.
He doesn’t mind watching new, modern day animes, just be prepared for when you two watch sad anime shows because he will sob like it’s the end of the world.
“NO, WHY WOULD KAORI DIE LIKE THIS?? AND SHE LOVES ARIMA- OH MY GOD IM SO—”sobs even more. He gets emotional while watching them because it’s so sad that it’s sO GOOD-
Loves dancing to those danceable anime music with you. He goes ALL. OUT. He even sings all of it in Japanese like wow-
I would love to hear him sing Cruel Angel’s Thesis in his Discowing suit and with goth makeup on it because it “sets the mood”, PLEASE-
Overall, great time watching with Dick. <3
Jason Todd
You expect someone like him to like Chainsaw Man, Trigun or something like those grunge-y, guns and knives animes, right? I mean, he does, but only with you and ONLY with you will he let his inner Magical Girl enthusiast ass shine. Because he LOVES Magical Girl animes. That’s probably the reason and one point of time why he wore red ribbons around his arms, he wanted that Sailor Moon experience and Tim might’ve just teased him about that era without knowing his love for Magical Girl animes and Jason might’ve flipped and freaked the fuck out and started chasing him down the manor.
Jason watches Sailor Moon, Madoka when he feels edgier than usual, Cardcaptor Sakura, every Precure series, Tokyo Mew Mew, man has all these shows somehow. He swears they weren’t through illegal means and he just worked very hard to gather all of them. He also might be a shoujo anime fan because if he loves Jane Austen books, you bet his ass would be reading Fruits Basket, Maid Sama or something because of course he would.
Also a Studio Ghibli fan, although watching the Tale of Princess Kaguya might make him feel too much, especially getting pissed off with the dad who forces his daughter into a wealthy life without her input and- yeah, you gotta calm him down as he cries bitterly and sourly with a pout on his face.
The two of you can go on and on about debating about unclear endings of animes all day long. You know the “AND SHE WAS A PRINCESS” video? That’s Jason.
Great man to watch anime with, and he’ll gladly be your Tuxedo Mask to your Sailor Moon (and not the “But you did nothing meme- or the other way around- he don’t mind being the Usagi-). <3
Tim Drake
I’m very convinced this man got into his whole detective shit because he watched Detective Conan and honestly I can’t blame him. Tim has probably the largest vessel of anime knowledge out of all of them. He doesn’t really have a specific genre he likes but he’s pretty fond of old 90s and 80s animes. He can explain the whole lore of One Piece, Fairytale, Pokémon like Jesus Tim, calm down- 💀
I can see him watching Neon Genesis Evangelion, Serial Experiments Lain or Key the Metal Doll because he likes that little bit of horror nature and mystery and thriller in his animes although he really doesn’t mind watching Haikyuu all over again if you want to.
Might introduce you to underrated and/or old animes like Revolutionary Girl Utena, Nadia the Secrets of Blue Water, every Studio Ghibli movie, those kinds of animes that give off the really pretty and aesthetic old anime animations that is just so pretty to watch and with really good storylines that both of you can cuddle on a couch together and watch. I bet he even watches anime with you even before you two got together, so you guys pretty much have “watching anime together” as part of the foundation of your relationship. Owns so much manga that you can’t even count, too.
Just… don’t make him watch those really slow burn, comedy love animes, specifically Love War. Not that he don’t like romance animes, he watches Ouran High School Host Club and Your Name, trust me, but Love War? He is going absolutely insane because of it.
“OH MY GOD- PLEASE JUST KISS ALREADY. ME AND S/O ARE ALREADY TOGETHER FIVE MONTHS AGO ANF YOU TWO ARE STILL TOO PROUD TO ADMIT YOU LOVE EACH OTHER WHILE BLUSHING- JUST KISS ALREADY-” <3
Damian Wayne
Damian likes anime. Would 100% go to an anime convention with you as a date if you’re up for it. He doesn’t mind (surprisingly- just for you only-).
He doesn’t necessarily like showmen animes although he has enjoyed a few, but he really loves slice of life, I feel. It just feels like he wants to put himself in a normal life and with a tad bit of drama in it like what the characters go through. The touching ones like Hyouka or Natsume’s Book of Friends.
Also animal related anime maybe except Beastars because he didn’t understand shit-?? He calls that peak anime. Aggretsuko, Chi’s Sweet Home and My Roommate is a Cat?? Damian loves this shit, he watches it intently with his arm around you. Even if he doesn’t smile, you know he loves it by the way his eyes sparkle.
Just don’t tell his brothers. He will seriously feel betrayed if you do so because he only watches these kinds of shows with you: the cute animal ones that are actually wholesome and/or funny.
The whole family is into Studio Ghibli, and he is no exception. He feels like it’s the best kinds of anime to watch with you when you guys just want to turn in for the day and huddle up on the couch. It’s one of the rare times he relaxes and softens and he’s glad to have quality time with you. <3
Duke Thomas
He likes anime! Studio Ghibli is definitely a favourite of his and he would gladly watch it together with you! He also love a fair bit of Shounen animes, the more popular ones like Jujutsu Kaisen, One Piece, Haikyuu, or Spy x Family. He likes them a lot!
A big fan of romance animes too: Ouran High School Host Club and The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya (if you two are in the mood to huddle on the couch together and cry).
Duke doesn’t mind any kind of anime so long as it doesn’t have too much horror or gore like… Higurashi. He gets chills when that anime is mentioned. D-Don’t watch it for your own sake if you don’t know. And if you do, avoid it with him at all cost because he will.
Duke also like singing some good anime songs with you and you guys can go crazy and dance around, just not as dramatic as Dick.
He would be super excited to spend a date with you watching shounen anime movies like from Jujutsu Kaisen and he would be so hype to spend time with you being a fanboy while also sharing that romantic air for the shared love of anime between you two and the love that you two share, although that love is far stronger. <3
Reblogs help! ^^
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commodorez · 5 months
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What is the appeal of vintage computers to you? Is it the vintage video games or is it the programs? If so, what kind of programs do you like to run on them?
Fair warning, we're talking about a subject I've been passionate about for most of my life, so this will take a minute. The answer ties into how I discovered the hobby, so we'll start with a few highlights:
I played old video games starting when I was 9 or 10.
I became fascinated with older icons buried within Windows.
Tried to play my first video game (War Eagles) again at age 11, learned about the hardware and software requirements being way different than anything I had available (a Pentium III-era Celeron running Windows ME)
I was given a Commodore 1541 by a family friend at age ~12.
Watched a documentary about the history of computers that filled in the gaps between vague mentions of ENIAC and punch cards, and DOS/Windows machines (age 13).
Read through OLD-COMPUTERS.COM for the entire summer immediately after that.
Got my first Commodore 64 at age 14.
I mostly fell into the hobby because I wanted to play old video games, but ended up not finding a ton of stuff that I really wanted to play. Instead, the process of using the machines, trying the operating system, appreciating the aesthetic, the functional design choices of the user experience became the greater experience. Oh, and fixing them.
Then I started installing operating systems on some DOS machines, or playing with odd peripherals, and customizing hardware to my needs. Oh, and programming! Mostly in BASIC on 8-bit hardware, but tinkering with what each computer could do is just so fascinating to me. I'm in control, and there isn't much of anything between what I write and the hardware carrying it out (especially on pre-Windows machines)! No obfuscation layers, run-times, .dlls, etc. Regardless of the system, BASIC is always a first choice for me. Nova, Ohio Scientific, Commodore, etc. I usually try to see what I can do with the available BASIC dialect and hardware. I also tend to find a game or two to try, especially modern homebrew Commodore games because that community is always creating something new. PC stuff I focus more on pre-made software of the era.
Just to name a few examples from a variety of systems: Tetris, terminal emulators, Command & Conquer titles, screen savers, War Eagles, Continuum, video capture software, Atomic Bomberman, demos, LEGO Island, Bejeweled clones, Commander Keen 1-3, lunar lander, Galaxian, sinewave displays, 2048, Pacman, mandelbrot sets, war dialers, paint -- I could keep going.
Changing gears, I find it funny how often elders outside of the vintage computing community would talk about the era I'm interested in (60s-early 90s). [spoken with Mr. Regular's old man voice]: "Well, computers used to be big as a room! And we used punch cards, and COBOL!" I didn't know what any of that meant, and when pressed for technical detail they couldn't tell you anything substantial. Nobody conveyed any specifics beyond "that's what we used!"
I noticed that gaps remained in how that history was presented to me, even when university-level computer science and history professors were engaged on the subject. I had to go find it on my own. History is written by the victors, yeah? When was the last time a mainstream documentary or period piece focused on someone other than an Apple or Microsoft employee? Well, in this case, you can sidestep all that and see it for yourself if you know where to look.
Experiencing the history first hand to really convey how computers got from point A to B all the way down to Z is enlightening. What's cool is that unlike so many other fields of history, it's near enough in time that we can engage with people who were there, or better yet, made it happen! Why do you think I like going to vintage computer festivals?
We can see the missteps, the dead-ends, the clunkiness, the forgotten gems and lost paradigms, hopefully with context of why it happened. For the things we can't find more information on, when or documentation and perspectives are limited, sometimes we have to resort to digital archeology, and reverse engineering practices to save data, fix machines, and learn how they work. The greater arc of computer history fascinates me, and I intend to learn about it by fixing and using the computers that exemplify it best, and sharing that passion with others who might enjoy it.
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burningvelvet · 7 months
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Let me tell you about John “Foul-Weather Jack” Byron, Captain James Cook, a doctor named James Lind, and also a different doctor named James Lind, and how they all knew each other, helped to cure scurvy, and inadvertently helped to inspire Mary Shelley's novel Frankenstein (1818) and Bram Stoker's Dracula (1897) -- a long-winded history ramble
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John Byron next to a first edition copy of Frankenstein.
John joined the Royal Navy at 14 and by the ripe old age of 17 had proved himself by surviving a deadly shipwreck off the coast of Chile. The voyage was part of George Anson's famous circumnavigation of the globe done to seize Spanish ships. Only 188 men of the original 1,854 crew members survived; several, including Byron, were taken as prisoners by the Spanish. Recollections of the voyage were sensationalized and it was depicted in stories like William Cowper’s poem The Castaway. John Byron published his own successful memoir, The Narrative of the Honourable John Byron (1768).
The novel's full title deserves attention for it's 18th century pre-Byronic melodrama: "The Narrative of the Honourable John Byron (Commodore in a Late Expedition Around the World) Containing an Account of the Great Distresses suffered by Himself and his Companions on the Coast of Patagonia from the Year 1740, till their Arrival in England, 1746. With a Description of St. Jago de Chili, and the Manners and Customs of the Inhabitants. Also a Relation of the Loss of the Wager Man of War, one of Admiral Anson's Squadron." I can only imagine that had his grandson Lord Byron's memoirs been published instead of burned, their title would have borrowed from his grandfather's by including something similar to "Containing an Account of the Great Distresses suffered by Himself . . ." but I digress.
I do not digress. The beginning of his preface opens with this gem (I've swapped the 18th-century "long s" for a regular one):
"But here I must say, I have been dubious of the partiality of my friends; and, as I think, justly fearful lest the world in general, who may perhaps find compassion and indulgence for a protracted tale of distress, may not give the same allowance to a luxurious imagination triumphing in a change of fortune, and sudden transition from the most dismal to the gayest scenes in the universe, and thereby indulging an egotism equally offensive to the envious and censorious."
Which brings to mind Francis Cohen's criticism of Lord Byron's Don Juan: “Lord B. should have been grave & gay by turns; grave in one page & gay in the next; grave in one line, & gay in the next. And not grave & gay in the same page, or in the same stanza, or in the same line… we are never drenched & scorched at the same instant whilst standing in one spot" (letter to John Murray, 16 July, 1819). And (not the most entertaining part, but to keep things brief) part of Byron's retort: "I will answer [Cohen] who objects to the quick succession of fun and gravity — as if in that case the gravity did not (in intention at least) heighten the fun. His metaphor is that ‘we are never scorched and drenched at the same time!' Blessings on his experience!" (letter to John Murray, 12 August, 1819).
John went on to be considered one of the greatest naval commanders of his era, commanding several ships as captain during the Seven Years’ War and beating the French as leader in the Battle of Restigouche. He later set the record for fastest global circumnavigation at the time while commodore, became a notable explorer, became a commander at multiple Royal Navy stations, and was appointed Governor of Newfoundland in Canada for three years. According to Wikipedia, “his actions nearly caused a war between Great Britain and Spain.”
It seems like he basically just did whatever the hell he wanted. We can see that the apple really doesn't fall too far from the tree. Everyone in the Byron family was kind of crazy. See: psychologist Kay Jamison's Touched By Fire, a novel on the mental illness of famous writers, half of which is focused on Lord Byron (as it should be) and includes an extensive psychological analysis of his whole family tree, which in a short summary brings me back to my previous point: everyone in the Byron family was kind of crazy.
John's health declined after sustaining storm-induced injuries and an unsuccessful attack against the French at the Battle of Grenada. He died at 62 with six living children. His grandson, the poet Lord Byron, borrowed inspiration from John's life and the shipwreck descriptions in his memoir while he was writing the shipwreck sequence in his magnum opus Don Juan.
In an epistle to his half-sister (Epistle to Augusta) Byron mentions their grandfather thus:
"A strange doom is thy father's son's, and past / Recalling, as it lies beyond redress; / Revers'd for him our grandsire's fate of yore— / He had no rest at sea, nor I on shore. / If my inheritance of storms hath been / In other elements, and on the rocks / Of perils, overlook'd or unforeseen, / I have sustain'd my share of worldly shocks, / The fault was mine; nor do I seek to screen / My errors with defensive paradox; / I have been cunning in mine overthrow, / The careful pilot of my proper woe."
On to the Scottish doctor James Lind! He's important because he developed the theory that citrus fruits treated scurvy, and in attempting to prove so he conducted the world's first ever official clinical trial. In his tests, he used the survivors from this famous shipwreck. This likely included Byron himself, being one of the few survivors and having reported the healing effects of citrus in restoring men who were on the verge of death. Needless to say, the discoveries and implications of Lind's clinical trial had an unprecedented impact on the fields of nutrition and medicine, and all of history, particularly in the Caribbean. In 1753 he published his Treatise on Scurvy.
Lind's theories on scurvy influenced the famous Captain James Cook, who implemented these ideas and proved their efficiency by how few men he lost to scurvy compared with every other Captain at the time. When Cook circumnavigated the world on his first voyage, no one died of scurvy. This didn't help with malaria and dysentery, which nearly wiped out his whole crew at one point on a journey to Indonesia. Aside from Anson's shipwreck, Cook's voyages were the other major instance of what I would call "social experiments at sea, or, fuck around and find out: scurvy edition" which led to the development of scurvy research.
As an aside, there is a famous town in Australia named Byron Bay. That town was named by Captain Cook in 1770 as a tribute to John Byron. Cook was sailing around on the HMS Endeavour doing even crazier colonial shit, and he likewise died as the result of his sea travels. He was killed in a scuffle on Hawaiʻi Island which transpired after he had casually tried to kidnap King Kalaniʻōpuʻu-a-Kaiamamao in broad daylight, planning to ransom him out of revenge for the theft of one of his boats, although Cook himself had stolen their sacred wood first after they had been so nice to him. This is what I've gathered from reading a bit about the confusing affair, but the main point is that Cook got what was coming to him. The Journals of Captain Cook were published to major success, contributing to the history of English travel narratives. But Cook is a pretty well-known historical figure so I can't go into his chaotic life any more than this, lest I be writing forever.
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Lord Byron in an Albanian oufit he bought while traveling for 2 years, & Captain Cook thinking about navigation. The backgrounds make them look part of the same painting, no?
Back to the Linds: interestingly enough, the scurvy-studying physician James Lind had a younger cousin who was also a physician named James Lind, as well as a scientist/philosopher/teacher. While teaching at Eton, this Lind became a tutor and mentor of a young Percy Bysshe Shelley, and had such an impact on him that Shelley refers to Lind in several of his works. Shelley especially enjoyed Lind’s experiments regarding galvanism - the study of bringing things to life with electricity. It is widely believed by scholars that Shelley’s conversations and rememberances about Lind at Lord Byron's Villa Diodati were some of the primary inspiration for Mary Shelley’s novel Frankenstein (1818).
For further reading on Shelley's Lind: The real Doctor Frankenstein? by Christopher Goulding via Journal of the Royal Society of Medicine. Lind's Wikipedia page has a section devoted to Frankenstein.
Percy Shelley described his Lind:
". . . exactly what an old man ought to be. Free, calm-spirited, full of benevolence, and even of youthful ardor: his eye seemed to burn with supernatural spirit beneath his brow, shaded by his venerable white locks, he was tall, vigorous, and healthy in his body; tempered, as it had ever been, by his amiable mind. I owe to that man far, ah! far more than I owe to my father: he loved me, and I shall never forget our long talks, where he breathed the spirit of the kindest tolerance and the purest wisdom . . ."
A tie-in to vampire literature: Lind is also thought to be an influence on Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1897), which was influenced by (Lord Byron’s doctor) John Polidori’s novel The Vampyre, the first ever vampire novel, which was inspired by Lord Byron’s short vampire story Augustus Darvell, which was written at the same time as Frankenstein during their infamous ghost story competition at Villa Diodati. Augustus Darvell was inspired by Byron's travels through Eastern Europe, and was likely in part inspired by (another famous Romantic poet) Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s gothic poem Christabel, which Byron terrified Percy Shelley with after reading it aloud at the Villa Diodati, and which Byron loved so much that he helped Coleridge publish it through his own publisher. Christabel began in 1797 but wasn't published until 1816 for this reason.
To continue on vampires: Byron's enemy, the famous poet Robert Southey (who Byron roasted in Don Juan, among other works, and basically cancelled him as a result) also wrote a poem called Thalaba the Destroyer (1801) which is sometimes considered to be the first true depiction of a vampire in English literature. He also wrote it while traveling. Shelley (and Keats) both loved this poem, and so it also *could have* inspired some of the conversation at the Villa Diodati if Shelley had related the vampire theme to Christabel or Darvell. Southey is also the first English writer to write on Haitian zombi folklore, which would later become the zombie of modern horror. Southey was also reportedly in love with Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin, the mother of Mary Shelley and philosopher who wrote A Vindication of the Rights of Woman (1792), one of the most influential proto-feminist texts.
I relate these connections to demonstrate how small the literary world was at the time; so small that all the writers pretty much knew each other. In 1801, the English population was about 11 million, and in 1899 had grown to around 37 million due to industrialization (source: Black, Joseph, et al. "British Literature: A Historical Overview." The Broadview Anthology of British Literature, Broadview Press, vol. B, 2010, p. 70).
That's nearly the current population of London alone, but around 75% of that 11 million English population in 1801 was rural, whereas at the end of the century the national population was about 75% urban (source: same as prior), again due to industrialization. London in the early 19c was much less populated than today, and the amount of people who were educated or even merely literate was also much smaller than today. So really, it makes sense that all of the artists/writers/scientists/aristocrats knew each other. But it's still insane to see examples of how small the world really is and always has been.
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The front-facing portrait is of Scurvy Lind, the shadow portrait is of Galvanism Lind.
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The Shelleys: the King and Queen of Romanticism.
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Southey, Coleridge, Polidori, Stoker: some early Kings of Vampirism (as represented in popular British literature).
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gren-arlio · 1 day
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So. Let me tell y'all about a guy named Camus. And a girl named Lala. And other folk. Welcome to Episode 14 of Waku Puyo Extras.
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(Ah, back at it again writing these things.)
Hey guys, Gren here, and welcome to Episode 14 of Waku Puyo Extras, a series where I cover basically random stuff about Puyo and Madou as a whole. The Waku part is just because my brand is a single game I translate.
As my free time gets smaller and smaller, the drive to show off cool stuff remains about the same. Thank goodness school is over soon. I'm still alive, don't worry.
Finals and AP Exams are very much happening, so I'm spending that time studying. I'm hoping I pass.
Now, you would expect me to write about PPPP (P⁴ as I call it, Puzzle Pop in other locations) since it released and has a ton of stuff, notably well written characters. But alas:
I'm an Android user. Can't play it.
Frankly, at the moment, I'm not too interested in it right now.
So, the last episode was about Draco, that famous lass. What about this time? Well, since 80% of my work here is Madou related, why not give a showcase of some of the lesser known characters as a whole? Manga and novel stuff included.
With that, hope you enjoy. Also I said a bigger post is coming soon and drop it a literal month later. Damn.
So, Who ARE These Guys?
If you're not familiar with these characters, I honestly don't blame you. These guys are considered kinda niche in the franchise, but are more well known than some guys. I could mention Hanzo and no one besides people who played the game he's from or read the wiki would know him. Oh, or maybe Skeleton-D if we wanted to.
For now, I'll just cover the people have at the very least some stuff about them.
We'll begin with Camus, easily the most recognizable one that we'll be covering today. I swear if he was in Puyo now, he'd be so damn popular.
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(From the manual of the Mega Drive release of Madou 1. Notable for being one of the very few times Camus is drawn with the teenage Arle and Lala, both 16, making Camus 18 in this.)
The man, or rather boy, in that photo is the fabled Camus of the Sable Ord- I mean Madou Monogatari 1, both on the SEGA Mega Drive and Game Gear. Since this is a game where Arle is in kindergarten, Camus is her senior. Yeah, senior is the word for this one. He's notable for being the only person to get a perfect score on his exams, that lucky bastard.
Oh yeah he's also like 8 years old for the record in that
In the game, he's both helps you and hinders you for different reasons. Sometimes he's very nice and teaches you things, and other times he's taking stuff from you for playing the game for longer than three hours.
However, at the end of the game (Where he also might help you depending on some stuff), it turns out he was an illusion all along, which is always...fun, you know? That one guy who's been helping you out turns out to not even be real, least in the Game Gear version of things.
Honestly? He's a pretty interesting guy in the game. Arle holds him with some respect, and Lala quite literally has a massive crush on the guy that she's willing to show. Unfortunately.
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(Things are really serious in the Kindergarten Exam Fandom...)
He can come off as rude but at the very least he means well. And my goodness, his theme in the game is good.
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Underrated gem.
Now, up until a while ago, I kinda thought that'd be the only games he was in, a grand total of 2 whole games. However, by doing this for...a year now, turns out that there IS one more appearance of Camus, presumably to be 18 in the game because...Well, Arle is a teenager there.
Arle Man'Yuki. Or Arle's Travel Log.
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Now if I'll be honest, I STILL dunno all too much about the game, despite doing an entire episode on it. The game is super text-heavy, so I don't know EVERYTHING besides some of the Japanese history involved with it. (Crazy how the Heian Era is now some JJK meme. Time is a fun concept.)
Here, Camus has taken the role of the leader of the Shinsengumi, Kondo Isami. It's a long story, so... I'll just link my own work here. (I FINALLY LEARNED HOW TO PUT LINKS IN MY TEXT...)
I never covered Camus extensively in that game due to his admittedly small role in that game, but he's a fairly upstanding guy. Schezo works under him as the vice leader. Ain't that cool?
Check it out if you're curious about that, some basic Japanese history that may be a tad inaccurate, or JUMP HERO.
And err...that's every game he's from. Yeah, he's in a grand total of what, three games? It's not much but it's still something. He's a very cool lad.
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Wait, who's Lala?
I'm glad you asked, me. Lalah is a character from Mobile Suit Gundam that works with Char after he...well, this is a Madou blog. If only I could talk to you about Gundam. But alas.
Lala is ACTUALLY a girl who's the same age as Arle, and the girl who's madly in love with Camus...as I've told before. But she does have a little more than just that, don't worry.
In the Game Gear version at least, she sneaks into the tower Arle went into to graduate, upset that she wasn't the one to take the exam, but rather Arle. And yes. She broke a brick wall to get to her.
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(A 6 year old is stronger than any of us. LMK if you can run into a brick wall just fine.)
Now if I had to describe her, it'd be "Arrogant but funny as hell". Because she's arrogant but funny as hell. Arle calls Lala her BFF, to which she doesn't take that reply nicely and says they ain't BFF'S, they ain't even friends. Straight hater energy. (She wasn't able to take the exam due to a cold.)
Camus appears to stop her from interfering, and she goes on this tangent about how wonderful he is, and how he always eluded her... and chases him, as shown more above.
Things start to get funky when you get deeper into the tower, as Lala makes a literal trap hole, and Arle falls down. However, Lala is mad that she fell and NOT Camus, leading him to appear in the floor above and basically say "Idiot. I'm not falling for that." and she continues to chase him.
Her reign of terror ends when Camus SEALS HER AWAY for the rest of the game. But she's okay after it all don't worry. Arle summed it up the best way I could. She ends up fine after the end of the game, however.
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Lala also appears in Chaotic Final Exam too, now 16, but honestly...it's one of the games where I know next to nothing about it. Apologies. Just know that she's there and not Camus. (Though with the style of how the game looks...probably for the better.)
She's just overall what we call in the industry... a girlfail. She tries her absolute best but fails so, so much that I can't help but laugh at her and pity her at the same time.
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I have no cool segway into this section. Introducing... Rasp.
You might've seen them around if you've checked my blog here or there as a front page image for my works.
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And you'd be right. Rasp is from the Waku Waku Puyo Puyo Manga, a brand new character just made for the thing. They're basically a minion who mostly impede the way for Schezo and Rulue. I say "they" because, well, Rasp is genderless.
Fun fact: Their salary is unknown, but they apparently get paid more than a Manga artist, so take that as how you will.
Rasp does appear frequently throughout the volumes, and does indeed fight Schezo. While he does lose, at least looked pretty cool while doing so.
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Lightning Round:
Now these devilish goofballs are folks I want to show...but don't have much info on them just yet. Or there wasn't that much to begin with.
Septem:
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(Creatura...La creature 98...)
Septem is another genderless character from the series, coming from Arle no Bouken, a game I know next to nothing about. All I know from it is them and that they cling to Arle like a sister. I love them.
This is absolutely one character I wish I knew more on, since she's much more developed as a character...I just don't know much about Arle no Bouken.
Dark Witch:
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(What is this, a doppelganger bargain sale?)
Now she has a little more to her that I DO know but it's nothing spectacular.
Planned to be in Puyo N but was scrapped due to the idea of her being too serious, which is quite the reason for Puyo, but appears in Comet Summoner anyways as a final boss.
You can even play as her, and fight Witch herself and beat her... and possessing her. Kinda, sorta.
Runelord:
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(Dweeb appeared in one game and changed a man)
Runelord is an odd case, because some of his lore is stuck onto True Madou Monogatari, which in of itself...is kinda iffy lore wise. And also really long.
In Madou S? Wants Schezo to be the next successor, he says no, fight happens, Schezo wins but is affected anyways. Apparently he was beaten by Lagnus, but that comes from True Madou, so the accuracy of the Canon can be very much debated. It all depends if you think it's Canon or not.
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And honestly, that'll be all for this time around. Apologies this took so long. Life's been quite the journey. Graduation's happening soon, and finals are happening soon. The list goes on. I'm hoping I get by through the school year, but alas, I'm happy you read this.
Adios.
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freneticfloetry · 1 month
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fic pride friday
I finally get to start a tag game! Saw this one go by in the wild, and though I couldn’t grab the exact post to reblog, I wanted to bring the concept over to my go-to folks.
Rules: Post your favourite line or passage from as many of your published works as you’d like. Let yourself feel proud of your creations! Tag as many people as you post snippets, so your fellow fic friends can be proud, too.
There’s a little slice of Husbands Era from words to get off his chest (911 / 911 Lone Star):
Times like this, TK honestly thinks he lives for the second that Carlos settles back and lets go. He hopes that feeling never gets old — the way he sinks back into his arms, just a bit, and his limbs lose the last of their tension, like he’s found the exact space where he fits and can exhale with his whole body.
There’s this Carlos and Iris truth swap from to build a home (911 Lone Star):
I think you're my new favorite person, she'd said — soft but sure, like it wasn't something wondrous after losing her dad, just laid in his lap like a gift — and he'd swallowed and said the only thing he could think of that might've been worth as much in return. I think I'm gay. She'd turned her head and smiled into his shoulder, slipping her arm around his to slot their fingers together and squeeze. Fine, she'd said, warm and wry and completely without surprise. I'll drop my 'think' if you will.
There’s this Met Gala moment from scenes from an unfinished story (The Magicians)
Really, he'd said flatly, when El had first shared the idea, you want to go as The Little Mermaid. Eliot had rolled his eyes. Well not the neutered Disney version, he'd answered, the Hans Christian Andersen original. In all its forbidden gay glory. Quentin had blinked, thoroughly confused, and El had given him a look he never did decipher. He wrote it as a love letter, Q, he'd explained, soft and sad, to a man he couldn't have.
There’s this moment before a bittersweet reunion from What Baking Can Do (The Magicians)
He's technically seen El… since; there's a copy made of clay back at the cottage, lying silent and too still in Eliot's bed. But this is the form he knows — towering and full of grace, even bent over a workbench, brows drawn together, sifting flour into a big wooden bowl. Quentin's clearly caught him mid-setup, a telltale line of little clay vessels arranged across one side of the table, and it's sort of fascinating to watch the way he's adapted, the duality of the picture it paints — a faded apron slung over some sort of sheer, gauzy shirt that's tied at his side, sleeves rolled at each cuff to the elbow and hands stripped free of rings, the room's worn wood and stone an unadorned backdrop for the drama of the dark crown of gems that still circles his head. It's an image Quentin doesn't think he could forget, but there's the strangest urge to frame it, hang it, label it in bronze: High King Humbled, 2017. Flesh and bone.
There’s this truly unfortunate timing from Confidence Man (What’s Your Number?)
The Imperial March is impossible to ignore in the best of situations, much less mid-cunnilingus, but trying to would be significantly easier without the subsequent knock on the door. She stiffens, fingers tightening in his hair, thighs clamping down around his head like a vice. "Oh, fuck," she moans, in a way that's meant to be mortified but, to his ears and his brain and every one of his nerve endings, still sounds like she's seconds from flying off a fucking cliff. "Ally, I swear to god," he says, locked between her legs, "if I come in my pants with your mother outside I may never maintain an erection again."
There’s this reflection on the past and present from Ashes and Flame (Every You and Every Me) (The Hunger Games)
I want it to be as it was. A purging of everything that haunts me, down to the smallest detail. But when I'm done, there's only space and shadow in living color, more abstract than anything that came before it. A fiery sunset over the Meadow grass, the shape of mockingjay wings. And two silhouettes on the horizon, together but separate, forever moving forward, and backward, and nowhere at all.
And finally, there’s this unbalanced negotiation from By Any Other (Lucky Number Slevin), which is maybe my favorite cold opening to anything I’ve ever written.
"You need a name." She spreads out the stack of takeout menus she's stolen from the front desk, sprawled on her stomach on their third motel bed in a week. The wallpaper is the worst she's seen yet, and is still somehow better than what was in her old bathroom. "What about Indian?" "As names go? It's a little tongue-in-cheek." He flops to his back beside her, scratching at his stomach and squashing half the pile. "I could go for some Chinese." She wrinkles her nose, wrestling the menus free. "No Chinese. I hate Chinese." "You are Chinese." "Yeah, it's tragic, they revoked my membership and everything."
Tagging in @liminalmemories21, @paperstorm, @carlos-in-glasses, @reyesstrand, @rmd-writes, @lemonlyman-dotcom , and @welcometololaland !
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prienova · 2 years
Text
I showed my friend, who knows almost nothing about f1 and has absolutely no filter, photos of each driver on the 2022 grid and made her name and give me her first impressions on them and 😭. She just said whatever came into her head at the time, none of this was really thought over :). Everything is under the cut since this is such a long post!
Max Verstappen: William Osbourne
italian or spanish vibes
slightly dark and broody vibes
takes racing very seriously
“He is either super nice or an absolute asshole, or maybe he’s both who knows.”
Sergio Perez: Kristopher
A little lost but everyone loves it
100% has compilations on youtube that are like “kristopher being kristopher for 8 minutes and 23 seconds”
Has spent so long in f1 that everyone is telling him to quit
Very enthusiastic and his fans are very loyal
Charles Leclerc: Alexio 
“Damn he’s fine as hell!”
Hot, sexy, and hardworking
Has so many smutty fanfics written about him but he doesn’t know that they exist
Famous for his dimples and general smolder
Carlos Sainz: Akaash
“Oh my god, is he indian? YES DESI REP!” (She was so exited, I felt bad telling her he is spanish)
Could act in a movie as a fuckboy
Nice enough but might break your heart
Hard to approach but well liked by others
Lewis Hamilton: Joseph (but goes by Joe)
“Why are these guys so hot?”
Very wholesome and doing his best
“He looks like a good driver, I’d let him grip my steering wheel” ;)
Probably posts thirst traps after workouts
George Russell: George (she got one!)
Smiles and laughs but is secretly sad inside
“Is he gay? He feels gay. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, I am too and my senses are tingling.”
Solid driver
After seeing him in his williams era: “Awww, look at his hair, what a gem :)”
Fernando Alonso: Alec La Chance
Old man, people are begging him to retire but he stays out of spite
Has a questionable hairstyle
Can come off as rude and scary but he is just blunt
Has probably hazed the new drivers each year
Esteban Ocon: David
Sweet guy, seems very bubbly and fun to be around, has a cute face
Would hype you up if you were feeling down
“He's that one cousin who you see at family gatherings every 4 years that you get along with super well but never talk to outside of those gatherings as neither of you can seem to make the effort to reach out.” (yes, this is her exact wording 😭)
“Is his hair wet or is that just an unholy amout of hair gel?”
Daniel Ricciardo: Arnesto
Very popular among the guys and gals ;)
Very chill and well liked
“He’s so smiley, I love his teeth!”
Looks like he belongs in FIFA
Lando Norris: Theodore
“How old is this guy? I thought you said they had to be 18 to drive or something.”
Has an “I’m not like other boys” mentality
Probably reads those romance webnovels that all have the exact same plot and cries when he finishes them because he wants to be loved
Says “pog” and “sus” unironically
Valterri Bottas: Scott
“He’s giving me australian vibes.”
Has a nice smile, seems chill and relaxed, very reliable
Not a fan of publicity but deals with it only because he has to
Comes off as tough and intense but is actually a total sweetheart, gives off major dad energy
Zhou Guanyu: Andrew
“Ooooh, I like him. He would bump into me on the way to work, spill my drink, and buy me coffee as an apology.”
A solid dude and a good friend
Seems like a good sport
She spent almost ten minutes drooling over his modeling pictures 💀
Kevin Magnussen: Gordon Ramsay
Has strong father vibes but is unhinged
Head empty, only cars
Has questionable morals but everyone loves him
Stoner energy
“He looks like if someone tried to copy Gordon Ramsay but changed it up a bit so it wasn’t obvious.”
Mick Schumacher: Brad
Very charismatic
“What happened to his hair? Why would he cut it like that?” (I showed her before and after photos of that one haircut)
Very sweet but is also a menace to society
Looks like he would enjoy cherry flavored cough medicine
Pierre Gasly: Chadwick
Very cool and suave, flirts a lot, secretly sad inside
Throws parties often
Would have went into finance if f1 didn’t work out
Has a small but devoted fanbase, extremely underrated driver
“I can’t tell if I would trust him or not.”
Yuki Tsunoda: Benjamin
Very nice, another solid guy
“He has the same hair my brother did when he was 12.”
Can drive an f1 car well but gets too nervous to drive on regular streets because he doesn’t trust himself to not start speeding
“He’s cute, I’d date him.”
Sebastian Vettel: Gandalf
Very nice and wise, pleasant to talk to
Wins a lot, has many fans that thirst over him and his scruffy hair
Could have been a footballer but chose to go into f1 instead
“He has fun uncle energy, I want to smoke a joint with him.”
Lance Stroll: Jacob from Twilight
“THIS GUY’S HAIRCUT IS EVEN WORSE THAN BRAD’S!”
When he got rid of his old hair, his passion for the sport left with it
Sometimes gets intimidated by some of the intense racers
“Someone please tell him to grow his hair back out, it looked so good.”
Alex Albon: Jughead from Archie
Has a good portion of haters for no reason
A bit awkward but very sweet
Pulls off the red hair VERY well
“I want to be his bottle of hairdye.”
Nicholas Latifi: Santander
Is either the best driver currently or very bad
Looks very intuitive and thoughtful
Seems handy and domestically skilled
“I like his hands, do you think he moisturizes?”
I honestly can’t tell which one is my favorite 😭
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phantoms-lair · 3 months
Text
Heist Gone Wrong
Another snip for @era-the-witchy-birdkid's Super!Conan AU
"You caught up fast, Tantei-kun," Kid complimented his current rival. "The longer legs from that growth spurt of your are serving you well." "I can be much faster." Tantei-kun smirked. "I just wanted to give you a fair chance." "Ah, but I still managed to get this." With a flick of his wrist the brilliant-cut jade, rumored to be cursed, appeared in his hands. Tantei-kun paled and dropped to his knees, which Kaito thought was a little dramatic (though he perhaps shouldn't be one to talk.) Then he started sweating and gasping for breath and Kaito wondered if he was really being dramatic or if it was something else.
When one of his favorite detectives collapsed on the floor looking like he was either having some kind of seizure or body-wide muscles spasms any thoughts of dramatics were gone.
Steam seemed to be rising from Tantei-kun's skin and he locked feverish eyes with kid, struggling to say something.
"Gem," he finally managed to gasp out. "Poison."
The gem was poison? That didn't sound right. Kaito glanced over to where it had fallen on to the museum floor. In the shadows it no longer seemed like it was glowing. It absolutely was. Was this a side effect of the supposed curse on it?
Kaito ran the stories about the curse through his mind. It was nothing like what was happening to Tantei-kun. Infertility, balding, stomach sickness to the point of vomiting up blood. And several things clicked together at once.
The glowing gem wasn't magic, wasn't cursed. It was radioactive.
Kaito's eyes scanned the display and there! Pewter drinking goblet from ye olden Europe, that contained lead. He grabbed the cup by the stem and slammed it over the gem.
The result was immediate. Tentei-kun's spasming stopped. He sat up, weakness apparent in his movements (and had his clothes gotten bigger on him? They had. Were those weird spasms Tantei-Kun shrinking?)
Then Tantei-kun's eyes glowed red and a twin beams of light shot form them, sealing the cup shut with the gem inside.
"I'm not taking the blame for that." It was maybe the least important thing about this while mess, but he felt the need to say it.
Tantei-kun looked at him with eyes that had just melted metal and those eyes contained nothing but fear. Right, he was probably never supposed to find out about this. "You're not a normal human, are you?"
The answer was obvious and Tantei-kun hid his head in his too-long sleeves.
"Well, you're far nicer about it than other's I've met."
That got his attention and the little detective's head shot up. "Others?"
"Well, one other. She was perhaps a tad bit homicidal towards me at first. Then she got a bit stalkery. I have to say I much prefer you. I assume that's was the cause of your reaction to the stone?"
"I guess." Tantei-kun shrugged. "It wasn't in any of the records I found, but it's possible they never came in contact with it."
"Would your parents know?"
Tantei-kun shook his head. "I'm adopted. They know what I am but no more than that. And my people were wiped out. I'm the last. So there's no one to ask."
The last of his kind. That was... okay, that was a lot that he wasn't prepared to deal with on what was supposed to be a light low-stakes heist. "Do you want me to call Mouri-san?" "No. Agasa-Hakase, please." Tantei-kun sounded exhausted and out of it.
Kaito gently took Tantei-kun's phone and called the old man with his voice. His task force was likely closer, in the wrong wing, mind. But given what he'd just learned about Tantei-kun any medical aid they could give was likely not what he'd need.
~
Several days later a thick lead box was sent to the police station with several stickers on the openings that said 'Do not open' and an envelope with Kid's logo and the words 'This Box is not a place of honor'
Inside the note read:
My Dear Task Force,
I have once again returned what I have taken, but this time extra precautions were needed. You see, there is truth about this jewel glowing and causing misfortune to those that held it. But it is no mystical work at place. The stone is, to put it bluntly, mildly radioactive. Testing has revealed it shouldn't cause problems with short term exposure, but is absolutely not safe to put on display. Or be handled as casually as it has been. I had to get tested for radiation poisoning and I suggest anyone who handled it in it's current and former locations be tested the same.
Don't worry, I'll check the next target I select with a Geiger counter so this doesn't happen again.
Best Wishes, Kid.
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celestialholz · 1 year
Text
The Anatomy of an Outfit (aka 'holy fucking Continuum THE LOOK™)
Y'all know I haven't seen a single STP episode since 2.9. I would rather gargle with acid than go near this show ever again frankly, but, well...
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... Good sweet sanctuary what the fucking hell is THIS. :O (@tennant, clearly a fellow appreciator of all things ancient god, must be thanked profusely for these glorious few shots I'm about to show off. <3)
I called this lovely, lovely man returning about ten minutes after he 'died', but I don't think any of us were expecting his outfit to slay THIS HARD when he did. And not only is it the sexiest thing my fortunate eyes have ever had the pleasure to absorb, but it also happens to be very, er... well let's be real here, it's ridiculously Qcard-coded.
Let's break it down, shall we?
We'll start with the obvious: it's maroon and black. This look appears to be a mad fusion of his Encounter at Farpoint judge robes (which is fair, we end as we begin), and his husband of forty years' captain's uniform. That piped shoulder's hugely reminding me of this, in fact:
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It's the inverse! You know, the same look, flipped? Because they have perfectly distinct personalities but are also mega gay???? Costume department allies fr.
The delightfully dramatic sash Q's rocking is also interesting - it places maroon at the centre of the outfit, and is its grandest statement, which makes it an excellent example of the importance of the colour to its wearer. This is the clothing equivalent of him having mon capitaine tattooed across his essence, which... well yeah, valid. Canonical facts. It's worn across virtually his whole chest, too, because nothing says 'that's my husband' more than having him literally held against your heart.
It's a different era of captain, across two shoulders - the old teasing, and the new love.
Also, this fucking brooch.
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Now, whilst I doubt they've given even John de Lancie a piece made of actual rubies for a fifteen-second scene, the stones here are very clearly meant to evoke them. And rubies are interesting for several reasons:
They're Picard's birthstone, his birthday being July 13th;
They're symbolic of power and protection. What follows is some of the interesting info I've picked up from internet gemology on rubies:
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... Huh. Resolve disputes. 'Dispel anger,' when we've seen a darker Q in this series. And 'protective powers'... mm, how many times has Q saved Picard's life again? What did we get up to, six?
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... 'Romantic love.' 'Devotion.' Uh-huh.
This brooch is also evocative of the Navaratna, or this thing:
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The brooch itself is clearly stylised, but it features eight gems orbiting a central larger ruby (which is meant to be the sun by the way, as though this motherfucker wasn't already evocative ENOUGH of the sun here or here), and is an important cultural and religious symbol in Hinduism. What's it symbolic of, exactly?
... Oh, nothing much. Just... just this.
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... Like I said, nothing much, just the whole concept of Qcard in fucking jewellery form.
The brooch's also, as the wife @porgthespacepenguin pointed out, an eight-pointed star.
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... Have I mentioned yet that I fucking detest this show? Because I really fucking detest this show.
There's nine rubies on it, as well. Picard's in his nineties.
So, let's recap:
Nine of Picard's birthstone for his ninety years
Sun symbolism, AGAIN
Celestial relationships
Beyond space and time
Romance
Prosperity
Protection
Resolution
So, all that, from a brooch worn over an outfit that looks suspiciously like Picard's, which has a sash across it in Picard's colour.
... And I'm supposed to believe that Qcard isn't endgame? You're really going to gaslight me to this degree right in front of my salad, you absolute bastards????
Guys, when you inevitably wipe this shitshow of a Star Trek from your collective minds like I'm about to do, just... take this with you. Take the fact that everything about this outfit and this SHOW has said all along that Qcard is endgame, until they couldn't be arsed. Until they lost their balls for the pathetic few who might have naysayed it.
Patrick, and certainly John, deserved so much better. I'm glad that at least someone on this set understands that. (I see you, costumers. I see you, and I love you.)
Just going to... just going to stare at the absolute fine-aged wine of a man that is John de Lancie for a moment, before I lose my whole shit. He calms my soul, you see.
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HIT THE SLAY KING JOHN <3
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chroniclesofstars · 1 year
Text
❖ ── 'Her Last wish, from me to you.'
⁠↗↝↗ Zhongli x reader.
⁠↗↝↗ In which you, The goddess of Wishes, had one wish—That wish being to have The beloved God of Geo, reciprocate your undying love for him, but of course, you'll always, always, be inferior to her.
⁠↗↝↗ W.A.R.N.I.N.G.S: — Angst, No comfort, Mentions of Death, Mentions of war, blood, weapons, mentions of insecurities. [If you can't handle these, you might not be able to read the story!⁠ ( ̄⁠︶⁠ ̄; ) ]
⁠↗↝↗ S.O.N.G.S: For the First Time, Let you break my heart Again.
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—Amongst the many mountains in the old era of Liyue, was a chiseled stone table where bickering amongst many friends was heard,— This bickering being from the Infamous, Goddess of Dust, Guizhong, who'd also go by the Alias, Haagentus. And the Beloved Crane, Cloud Retainer. But besides the bickering pair, there was three other people,
You being one of them.
The other two said people, being the vain beauty, Streetward Rambler, and the Cold-hearted God of Geo, Morax. The same man who you had an infatuation for, though, he of course, did not know this, for he was in love with the Beautiful Goddess of Dust, and you were well aware,
Well aware that you were inferior,
And always will be.
But that did not stop you from continuing to have an undying passion for the man, who was indeed, a beauty, he was the finest gem in all of Liyue, and your very wish was for him to reciprocate your feelings, but you failed to possess the power to grant your own dreams, so you'd have to let the stars do the dirty-work for you,
But they hated you,
You were Star-crossed.
You'd attempt to gain their blessing, but you just made their hatred for you worse, so . . You stopped messing with them in hopes they'll welcome you with open arms, they didn't.
So, you'd just sit there, silently drowning in envy as he watched the Beloved Goddess of Dust, wishing that you could take her place, and that he could love you. Oh, how you wished you could grant-
"Who dares believe one's inventions are superior than the ones of I?" The Blue-haired woman said in a harsh, offended tone. Evidently irritated on how Guizhong, The Goddess of Dust believed she was superior in the arts of Mechanics.
"My inventions are indeed far superior, My Beloved Retainer." Guizhong said with a cheeky smile, as she hid behind Morax who seemed to be casting his votes on which invention he deemed far more worthy.
"Hm . . Guizhong's inventions do indeed seem far more practical, Cloud Retainer." Streetward Rambler said as she continued to softly strum the strings on her Zither, playing a tune in hopes it'd drown out the bothersome bickering.
"How foolish!- [N.A.M.E.] Whose invention is far more practical? You needn't feel ashamed to say that one's inventions is far more superior than the ones of Haagentus's." Cloud Retainer, The Blue-haired woman said with an irritated tone.
You blinked, tilting your head as you began, "Well . . Perhaps yours, Cloud Retainer? Simply because Guizhong's inventi-" Then almost instantly, you were cut off.
Guizhong scoffed. "Hey!- No insults to my work! I've put my blood, sweat, and tears into them, They are superior!" Guizhong retorted.
To this, Cloud Retainer grumbled. "Rex Lapis, wrap up your final judgement, and speak the truth on who's invention is far more superior!"
He'd huff, as he continued to examine the blueprints laid out Infront of him, his index finger and thumb on his chin as he thought. Before he came to a conclusion and nodded, looking up from the Blueprints, "Guizhong's inventions are far more practical, they have a more detailed way of work, and would be far easier to plan out, work with, and wouldn't be such a hassle to fix."
You blinked, as you looked over at Cloud Retainer, interested on what her reaction would be.
"Hah, my foot." Cloud Retainer said as she rolled her eyes, crossing her arms as she looked away from both Guizhong and The infamous Rex Lapis.
"Ah . . I thought Cloud Retainer's would be more practical because she gives a thorough explanation on how it should be used, and more . ." You said, as you tilted your head, a bit embarrassed how you went on the opposite side, and lost.
Rex Lapis nodded, "Yes, that was what nearly led me to pick hers, though," He'd point to one of the paragraphs on Guizhong's blueprint. "This gives a far better explanation of what other things it could be used for, making it superior as it has other abilities."
Guizhong grinned, as a soft giggled escaped her lips as she hugged Rex Lapis from the place she was, behind him. "Thank you, Oh-so-noble God of Geo!" She said, in a playful manner.
Seeing this, you couldn't help but feel jealous, as his gaze softened at the sight of her, and how he so obviously relaxed in her embrace, it made your blood boil. "How absurd . . " You mumbled, to which the woman beside you, Streetward Rambler heard, as she opened one of her eyes to glance at you for a moment, closing it again as she chuckled, shaking her head.
"Your blatant distaste is showing, attempt to be more secretive, Sitri." The woman said, as she went back to strumming her instrument.
You blinked, turning red in embarrassment at her words, but you quickly shook it off, deciding to switch the subject. "Ahem . . Rex Lapis, would you be willing to tag along with me as I wander around Guili Plains?" You asked, kind-heartedly.
He'd glance at you for a moment, his gaze hardening before he nodded. "I suppose I'll honor you with such." He said simply.
Upon hearing this, Guizhong smiled. "Do you mind if I tag along with you two?"
You blinked, and although you were indeed upset, you allowed her, she was far too kind, far too pretty and intelligent to deny. She's everything you, The Goddess of Wishes , dreamed of becoming, but a wish that rivaled that thought was Rex Lapis Reciprocating your feelings, but you know he won't, as you were the other woman,
from start to end.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
From the moment you met the pair, you were well aware that you'd always be inferior to Guizhong. You had met them both while you were on one of the tallest mountains in Liyue, sitting on the edge of the cliff as you hummed a tune, granting the wishes of the common folk as you sat there, in the pale moonlight with the cold, calming breeze brushing against your skin as it blew at your hair, and made your long, flowy and billowing outfit flow in all directions.
Then, at that moment, was when the pair encountered you, "Oh, who must you be?" The gray-haired girl said with a small smile, as she tilted her head in curiosity.
And upon hearing her voice, you opened your eyes, turning your head to face her, and the man beside her, who upon first sight, you fell for. He had such, cold, but delicate features, he dressed elegantly, he was clearly of high statues and strong, he was tall, he was the embodiment of Perfect, but seeing how he softly watched the gray-haired woman, you knew, he loved her most.
────────────────────────
After what felt like a couple minutes, which was truly a couple hours, you all properly introduced yourselves, told your reasons on why you wish to participate in the Archon war instead of just attempting to hide as any logical person would, and state your ambitions, and wishes.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Looking at that flashback made a small smile appear on your lips, though it was terrible timing as it was no longer the age of Peace, this is the Era of war and bloodshed, it was bound to be cruel. Which is why you were here, on the battlefield as you attempted to defend yourself, you were never the fighter,
Infact, you didn't even know how to properly wield a blade, so that's why you stood there, behind Cloud Retainer who used her countless inventions to protect you both, as Streetward Rambler was on the other side, behind you, fending off the other wave of foes.
As you all stayed focused on the intense battle, with you, analyzing the fight and giving tips on how to counter the said attacks, and even giving a few heads-up and warnings, something you knew how to do, analyzing rather than actually fighting.
But as you were all staying focused on such, you failed to notice how Guizhong, The beloved Goddess of Dust, was overcome in battle, a loud yelp escaping her lips as she was hit with a powerful blast, but with the three of you cornered, you were unable to help.
But hearing her, hearing her scream in utter anguish hurt you, causing you to space out as you too, were hit with a painful attack, a slash across your chest, slightly horizontal, as a pained yelp left you , the blood stained your white outfit, dyeing it a dark crimson color, as you bent over, covering the large gash as you began to breathe heavily, the blood from your wound staining the battle field just as the other countless gods, and mortals blood did.
"Sitri!-" Streetward Rambler yelled as she ran towards you after she and Cloud Retainer finally cleared out the enemies, she helped you gain balance as your crimson blood soon stained her as well. "You'll be alright, [N.A.M.E] , just keep breathing, do not close your eyes to rest!- Stay awake!-" She yelled in worry, and seeing how Streetward Rambler was checking on you, Cloud Retainer decided it was best to go and Check on Guizhong.
You coughed a bit, shaking your head as you attempted to fight the insane amount of fatigue and pain you felt coursing through your entire body. "I'm . . . . Alright," You said through pained breathing. "But I'm not the one we should be worrying about, we must find Haagentus . . She was alone in battle, no one came to her aid!-" You yelled, "Streetward Rambler, please. Take me to her!"
Upon hearing your words, Streetward Rambler frowned. "Alright, I will. But once we do, we'll be healing the two of you." She said as she began to walk with you, allowing you to use her as a crutch.
────────────────────────
As you both reached the place of where Haagentus's scream was heard, you saw both, the frowning, and clearly upset Morax in front, with the beloved Cloud Retainer a few meters behind him, with the 5 Yakshas attempting to seal something . . It was . . You gasped, it was Haagentus, you failed to come in time, and all that you were able to see, was her lifeless body.
As you took a look at your surroundings, with tears welling up in your eyes, you came to realization that this was the exact place you both met, and the exact place you had to say goodbye, you slowly moved to the front where Morax stood, watching her lifeless body as it was now stone.
"I . . " You paused, you had one plan, you could . . You looked up, as you let go of Streetward Rambler, who panicked, but then stopped and watched you through eyes of confusion.
You stumbled your way to Guizhong's lifeless body, holding both of her hands. "If anything . . he'd wish for you to be alive and well then wish for me to be such . . So . . I'll save you, Haagentus." You said as you closed your eyes, as you , and the corpse of your beloved friend began to glow a faint white, as you began to grant a wish, not for yourself, but for her and Rex Lapis, for her to Revive and live a prosperous life with him, though, large wishes must come with a price, as saving her, would cause you to exhaust your strength, and revert you to the smallest form possible, far before you were even born, meaning you would be erased, you would eradicate yourself for the sake of her, for the sake of him.
And that was okay, as long as he was happy, as long as he was content in this life, then you could wait for the next, and if not that, then the very next, until he chooses you, you'll let him break your heart again, you always will, you'll never regret it, you'll continue to meet the two of them in every lifetime, even if it means that you'll have to see them fall in love everytime,
But even then, you could hope for once, for the first time, he could fall in love with you, The Goddess of Wishes,
But you were Star-crossed.
The stars hate you, there is no way they would let you have such a happy ending.
For this is the story of the Beloved Goddess of Wishes, the Mistress of Wishes, and the Cold-hearted God of Geo,
And perhaps over those many millenniums , the wishes granted by her, could finally soften a heart of stone, and that he , would realize that maybe, he did love her,
For that was Her last wish, from me to you.
P.S: Please don't translate, copy, change, or attempt to edit my work!~ ♪
C H R O N I C L E S O F S T A R S
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adarkrainbow · 1 month
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Romanian witches: Baba Dochia
Originally I wanted to talk about only one "Romanian hag" from the world of fairytales, but from this one entity I ended up talking about Muma Padurii and Baba Cloantza and many more... Because there is never just one "baba" or one "muma" in Romania. There is a whole series of malevolent hags and magical old women which all embody in one way or another the benevolent, malevolent, or neutral aspects of the archetypal Romanian witch.
I will mention that Wikipedia lists the Muma Padurii/Baba Cloantza in her wicked form as one of the three recurring fairytale villains in Romanian fairytales, alongside the "balaur" (the "dragon", a winged multi-headed evil snake that comes in three variations 1) air-dragon that causes/lives in storms 2) earth-dragon living in chasms and pits and associated with gems 3) water-dragon, usually killed by the saint - see the legend of saint Georges) and the "Zmeu" (Zmei in plural, the Romanian variation of the Slavic creature of the same name, usually a giant sorcerer but which sometimes appear as a dragon)
But now I finally reach the witch I originally wanted to talk about. Baba Dochia. I learned at first about her when looking at an article which covered the Romanian translations of the brothers Grimm "Frau Holle", and this article evoked how in Romanian translations, often the legendary character of Frau Holle was replaced by a Romanian folkloric being: Baba Dochia (which the article did compare to the Baba Cloantza as an aspect of the "fairytale wicked witch"). With the bonus that the Baba Dochia is closely linked to the weather and to seasonal changes, which explains why she can fit the role of Frau Holle.
Here is what the article had to say about the Baba Dochia.
She is one of the many supernatural "babas" of Romanian legends (remember, "baba" simply means "old woman", the same way the German "Frau" means "lady" or "miss"). Baba Dochia ha, like Frau Holle a weather role - Baba Dochia is a manifestation of the cold weather and the winter season. Or, to be more precise, Baba Dochia is only a manifestation of the end of winter. The whole thing of Baba Dochia is that her "weather role" takes places during the beginning of March, a set of nine days that are typically called the "babele" (plural of Baba). This era marks the end of winter and the beginning of spring - a shift of seasons usually symbolized as a fight between two entities. Baba Dochia is supposed to wear nine "cojoace" (coats made of sheep's skin), representing how cold the weather is. During these nine days, when the weather is violent, unpredictable and constantly-shifting, Baba Dochia will remove each of her coats, one per day - and the more coats the take off, the hotter the air becomes and the more snow melts. In fairytales, this "seasonal battle" usually has the spring season symbolized by the "prince Charming" figure.
This is the case of a specific Romanian fairytale that is an equivalent of the Grimm's "The three little men in the woods". In this fairytale the Baba Dochia is a wicked stepmother that sends her martyrized stepdaughter to a frozen stream, to wash black wool until it becomes white. The stepdaughter encounters a beautiful young man named Martisor (I am not adding the accents here because my keyboard is not equiped for it) who embodies spring: not only does he help the girl, he also gives her flowers (we are in winter). When the stepdaughter returns she manages to get her accused of cheating on her husband (because after all you know, she accepted the flowers of a handsome stranger in the woods... It can look bad in an old countryside society) ; but these flowers will cause Dochia's downfall. She believes these flowers mean spring is here (when in fact it is still winter), as such she goes to the mountain with her sheep as she does every spring... but she just ends up frozen to death there, and all her sheep with her. This folktale is tied to the rocky landscape of several mountains - a type of mineral manifestation called "Babele" and which is supposed to be Baba Dochia and her sheep, petrified into stone.
Baba Dochia also appeared in the works of Mihail Sadoveanu, but this author decided to reinvent the character as a less wicked and more tragic character. In his own take on the story of Martisor, Dochia isn't the wickedness of a cruel season that needs to end ; but rather she suffers from the deep gap between the human world and the "otherworld". Otherworld that Baba Dochia represents: she is a witch-like old woman with obscure powers and a shadowy domain, living all alone in a little cabin at the top of the mountain, isolated from all civilization. One day, she adopts a young orphan girl and she raises her with love - but away from all other human presence. The young girl, who is a plain human unlike the otherwordly Baba Dochia, cannot resist her roots, and demands to be allowed to return into humans, in the light-filled world of the valley. Baba Dochia agrees to let her go there to see the humans - but in the valley, the girl falls in love with the titular Martisor and forgets to return to her adoptive mother. The old woman, alone and heartbroken, ends up freezing to death in the coldness of her little dark cabin.
This was all I could get from the article. To this I will add info from a little brief Internet research:
An alternate name of Baba Dochia in Bulgaria and Macedonia is Baba Marta, in reference to the spring celebrations of the first of March, Martenitsi, Bulgarian name of the Romanian Martisoare, from which the "prince" Martisor gets his name. Baba Dochia can also be found under this name in Moldavia on top of Romania. In English a translation is "Old Dokia".
A variation of the "babele" name described above: the fifteen first days of March can be called the "zilele babei" (the days of the old woman) (babei/baba refering to the old woman, the herb-healer and the female witch)
There are actually many versions of the fairytale I described above:
First version: Baba Dochia had a son, Dragobete in Romanian, Dragomir in Bulgarian, who married a young girl against his mother's will. Dochia abuses her daughter-in-law and at the end of February sends her to fetch berries in the woods. She is helped by an old man, who is actually God in disguise and produces the berries by a miracle. When Baba Dochia/Marta sees the berries, she believes spring is here, puts on twelve sheep-skins as coats and goes to the mountain with her son and sheep. But due to the rain her coats get soaked and heavy - so she removes them, but the frost suddenly arrives and freezes her to death, with her ship, and her son who was playing the flute.
Second variation: Pretty similar to the first, with a few details changed. There are only nine coats instead of twelve, and the Baba removes them due to the hot weather before the frost suddenly arrives. Her son doesn't go with her to the mountain. The girl isn't elped by God but by the Virgin Mary or a female saint. The girl is precisely asked to go fetch strawberries. And here the Baba and her sheep don't just freeze to death, they are petrified into the "babele" stones found in the mountains.
Third version: The baba sends her daughter-in-law to the river in winter to clean a very dirty coat until it gets white and shining, but the girl fails to do so and cries. A mysterious man arrives and gives her a snowdrop flower which makes the coat white by magic. When the girl returns with the white coat and the flower in her hair, baba Dochia believes spring is here - and she ends up like in the previous tales, frozen/petrified on the mountain.
Fourth version: Again, Dragobete marries a woman against his mother's will, so the baba Dochia abuses her, and notably sends her wash black wool in a stream until it becomes white (an impossible task). The baba specifically forbids her from returning until the wool is white, and since the girl can only freeze her hands in the cold water she cries about losing her husband (that she loves very much). Jesus then appears and offers her a red flower which makes the wool white. When the girl returns Baba Dochia believes springtime came since a man could pick up a flower - and you know the rest, she goes to the mountain with her nine coats, due to the weather she drops them one by one, and when she gets rid of the last everything suddenly turns cold and she freezes to death. (There's a fifth version which is just this story but with twelve coats instead of nine)
Outside of pure fairytales, if we go more into the folklore and myths, scholars debate the possible origins of the Baba Dochia/Baba Marta. Some believe she might be a character born of the old name of Dacia (Dakia in Latin and medieval Greek, close to "Dochia/Dokia"). Others believe she might have evolved from a Byzantine celebration Eudoxia/Eudokia's martyr on the 1st of March. A third theory is that she is the leftover of an ancient Thracian goddess common to the Romanian and Bulgarian territories, a deity of agriculture, fertility, renewal... But all in all the Baba Dochia/Marta was seen as a weather spirit with a quickly-changing mind and unstable temper, and as a result needed to be appeased with offerings. Only by these gifts will she make sure winter doesn't last too long and spring returns (while in fairytales it turned into the Dochia's death causing the triumph of spring). A folkloric ritual consists of leaving the offerings by fruit-trees or under rocks, and if they are left under rocks, people then look which kind of insect live or takes refuge there. Depending on whether it is a millipede, a spider, a cockroach or any other thing, it will form an omen about how the year to come will unfold, turning the Dochia offering into a divination ritual.
But as I said before, the baba Dochia was mostly seen as a negative entity - it was said she was a spirit of the bad weather who during the nine "babele" (the nine first days of March during which she removes her nine coats) brought snowstorms and cold winds. Another divination ritual had a woman pick up randomly one of the nine babele-days: if the day turns out to be good weather, they are promised to stay fair and nice in their old days ; if the day has bad weather, it means they will age into a bitter hag. There's a lot of proverbs and sayings tied to the weather and Dochia - which makes her similar to the German Frau Holle. Of course when people say "Baba Dochia removes one of her coats", it means the weather is very warm ; but when it snows people also say "Baba Dochia is shaking her coat".
The Baba Dochia also appears in a little story that is told all the way across Europe (I know this because just a few days ago I read a variation of it among fairytales of Bretagne). The story always goes the same: there is an arrogant or wicked old woman/shepherdess who for a reason or another mocks or threatens the month of March (here a sentient entity), who in revenge steals some days from February to come earlier punish the old lady. In Romanian this old lady is Baba Dochia.
There is also a very WEIRD pseudo-historical legend which tries to explain Baba Dochia as having been a person from the Antique history of the land... According to this tale, Dochia was related to the last Dacian king, Decebalus (she was his sister for some, his daughter for others). When the Roman emperor Trajan conquered the Dacians, Dochia fled into the Carpathian mountains because Trajan wanted to marry her. She disguised herself as a shepherd, and all her servants and followers disguised themselves as sheep. But Trajan kept pursuing her and sending his forces after her, so in despair she prayed to the Dacian god Zalmoxis, who turned her and her fake-sheep into the Babele stones we can still see today. Quite a strange story, heh?
There's also a Christianized, benevolent version of the Baba Dochia - because of course, Christianity is VERY strong in Romania and gets its hands onto every folkloric character it can (this is why in the Baba Dochia fairytales the Martisor-Prince Spring figure gets so often replaced by Jesus). In this sanitized, Christianized version, baba Dochia was a pious old woman whose prayers for winter to end brought spring... Quite a far move from the wicked stepmother.
As a last note: Baba Dochia's son, Dragobete, also plays a part in the "weather symbolism/calendar meaning" of the fairytale. Because while Martisor is the beginning of spring and Baba Dochia the end of winter, Dragobete is actually an old Romanian god of love (often called the Romanian Eros/Cupid) who is celebrated during the "Dragobetele" celebrations on the 14th of February... The Romanian Saint Valentine's day. Dragobete was called in old pagan traditions "he who bets on love" and "the godfather of animals", because he protected and blessed all couples upon his day - as such, you had a sort of human "Saint Valentine" celebration on his feast-day, but you also had an homage to what was believed to be the "engagement of birds". There's a whole set of traditions and legends surrounding this which I will not expand upon here, but it makes sense than that this spirit of the love-day of February is symbolized as the loving husband of the heroine and the son of the hag of the end of February...
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Bridgerton Season 3 Episode 2 Initial Reactions
I'm late I know, but I didn't get to post these reactions so here they are.
ooh the historical pineapple reference!! I love the set design people they just keep delivering these little gems.
Edwina beloved! I think this confirms the marriage to the Prussian prince. Good for her, go be a princess babe.
Charlotte's wig is so beautiful and elaborate
Not Kate getting called old and hopeless on the marriage mart like free my woman from these allegations.
Nicola is eating up these green looks
"But have no interest in other debutants" not Benedict sniffing out my imaginary lesbian love story here.
Pen regretting her latest column
Penelope being so awkward at flirting is giving baby gazel trying to walk for the first time. it's vv endearing
Oh no is this foreshadowing Francesca diamond allegations? I read the books but I've forgotten this bit
Tbh I'm loving Featherington women they are peak bimbo
The actress for Phillipa has such a good voice it matches the character perfectly
Portia Featherington don't be controlling challenge
The most realistic representation of regency era sex ed I fear.
Colin threesome? See I said it was a slutty summer.
Not to nit pick/slut shame but at the least an hour needs to pass between your sinning and then being around your future love interest.
Aww Polin first meeting reminiscing.
You know nothing Colin Bridgerton you could have Apollo gift you with prophecy and you would still know nothing!
Aww they're apart and not in the same bed. They're really cute.
Yes madam Delacroix encourage these women to take fashion risks.
So Francesca wants to get matched to avoid attention? But she welcomes the prospect of marriage, hmm…
Bridgerton family cuteness
Hyacinthe being good at cards and a menace! I'm loving the younger kids being brought into this season.
Secret Polin meeting the tropes are troping.
Colin getting offended when Pen is like "you" bahaha
"Your eyes are the most remarkable shade of blue..." Colin was shooketh that boy is living in his "romancing mr.bridgerton" era.
Not her finding his musings on his smutty summer and getting turned on.
To paraphrase: "Were you reading my smutty journal Penelope?" like do you not know how nosey she is??
They’re touching hands and staring into each other's eyes your honor.
Girl what was this "lesson" even, I enjoyed it but still
Honestly same girl I too would vibe with pretty jewelry.
Colin wants the tea for the Pen and Eloise drama so bad!!
"how is she" spoken like a true divorced couple Eloise
Eloise speaking fax about how strange Colin and Pen's arrangement is.
Queen Charlotte back with a banging wig and more disparagement
Francesca: I was promised a music man, and I shall like one right this instant.
Mr. Dankworth and Mr. Finch we finally learn their names! Or maybe I have terrible memory?
Not them getting abandoned by their wives lmao
Not Portia acknowledging Mr. Dankworth's Kenergy "You are so pretty" and then the Kens are terrified of her this family is giving me too much entertainment
Colin "If you speak to one man tonight you can read of my sexploits" Bridgerton
"His horse recently died" ma'am this show is so unserious
Also not usually very caring of this but their height difference is everything
Eloise's talent would have been stand up commedy if it were not 1815.
Benedict’s commitment issues continue I see
It's the way this scene with Benedict has explained the complexity of all these society rules being in place solely for the sake of the marriage mart institution
Hannah Dodd so beautifully portrays a music nerd that just wants to be alone
Volet-Danbury shenanigans are afoot
Also Lady Danbury's outfits are so cute this season
Omg Featherinton sex talk is 10/10 comedy
"Inserts himself? Inserts himself where?" was delivered so perfect no notes just me gasping and dying laughing. Mr. Finch idk what your game is but I am deceased.
Oh no these girls are pirannahs and they smell blood
Aww Pen meeting a Whistledown fan in the wild is so sweet.
Also, she has a caller! Thank you Lord Remmington!
Oh no, oh no, oh no no no no their scheme is exposed poor Penelope will have to ruin her own reputation.
While I feel terrible for Pen she kinda deserves her serving of karma
Lady Danbury you are a level 1000 master manipulator here for Francesca.
Oh no Fran looks so distraught this is everything she was against
Ok I'm seeing the commentary they want to set up with the Kent’s situation
Visitor- sounds controversial Lady Danbury
GO off Eloise defend your cancelled wife!!
Ok Cressida has some points here.. that still doesn't endear me
Omg it's the first Polin kiss scene!!
"But you would be dead" best comedian right here give him his award!
Also, that was one passionate kiss for helping a dear friend out. These two dorks are so in love they can’t even see it (facepalm).
You can see it on his face he has unlocked something, he doesn’t know what but it’s something.
Tbh the maid is the MVP here she has allowed all of this to happen.
I'm starting to see where the plot is going and I approve. I will say the Polin story line is going well and I have no notes but a lot of other characters do not get screen time. There are no Lady Danbury Penelope interactions. It does feel at times there are too many characters due to these interactions.
Overall good, the ending odiously was the strong point I gave it 10/10.
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darknesseddiem · 2 months
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𝐀𝐧𝐮𝐛𝐢𝐬'𝐬 𝐕𝐞𝐢𝐥: 𝐄𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐄𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲
𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Ramses Thothmes, a wealthy Egyptian magnate, extends an invitation for a new excavation, promising untold secrets hidden beneath the desert's surface. As you convene with Thothmes to discuss the venture, a new figure emerges from the shadows – the enigmatic Colonel Duncan Smith.
Under Smith's watchful eye, the expedition sets forth into uncharted territory, where ancient ruins conceal dark secrets and lethal perils.
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: +18 MDNI, mentions of dead parents, reader has "Fagan" as the last name, none.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5,5k
𝐆𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Posting this early 'cause I got a meeting today. Enjoy your reading babes!
𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞'𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫.
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As you and Steve traverse through the corridors of Mr. Thothmes' office, a sense of anticipation hangs thick in the air. Just earlier, a cryptic phone call from Mr. Thothmes summoned you both to an urgent meeting regarding a new excavation. Now, as you stand mere steps away from entering his chamber, your mind races with questions, curiosity gnawing at your every thought.
Each hallway seems to stretch endlessly, the flickering lights casting elongated shadows along the polished floors. The atmosphere is charged with a sense of importance, every corner holding the promise of revelation and discovery. With each approaching door, the weight of anticipation grows heavier, like a palpable veil of mystery enveloping your senses.
The echoes of your footsteps resonate through the corridor, a rhythmic cadence echoing the steady beat of your heart. The allure of the unknown beckons, drawing you inexorably closer to the threshold of possibility.
As you stand poised on the precipice of this new chapter, the thrill of anticipation courses through your veins like electricity. For in this moment, you are on the cusp of embarking upon a journey that may reshape the very fabric of history itself.
"Harrington! Ah, and my favorite archaeologist!" A pot-bellied old man, probably in his fifties, welcomed you both with a hearty greeting as he swung open the grand door of polished mahogany. "Come in, come in!!" He ushered you and Steve into his sanctum with a sweeping gesture.
Stepping over the threshold, you are immediately enveloped in an atmosphere of sophistication and antiquity. The walls are adorned with a rich palette of colors, exuding an air of regal elegance. Deep shades of mahogany and ebony mingle with soft accents of ivory and gold, creating a sense of timeless luxury.
At the heart of the room stands an imposing desk of dark wood, its surface intricately carved with motifs reminiscent of ancient hieroglyphs. Behind it, shelves lined with leather-bound tomes and ornate artifacts whisper tales of bygone eras, each item a treasure trove of history waiting to be explored.
The furniture, upholstered in sumptuous fabrics and adorned with delicate filigree, beckons you to sink into its embrace. Plush velvet cushions offer respite from the rigors of the outside world, while ornate chairs with gilded armrests exude an air of refined opulence.
Throughout the room, the soft glow of ambient lighting bathes everything in a warm, inviting aura. Intricately carved candelabras cast dancing shadows across the walls, their flickering flames lending an air of mystique to the surroundings.
On every available surface, meticulously curated artifacts and antiquities are proudly displayed. Ancient statues stand sentinel, their weathered features bearing witness to the passage of time. Glittering jewels and polished gems catch the light, their brilliance a testament to the wealth and power of civilizations long gone.
As you take in the sights and sounds of this magnificent chamber, a sense of reverence washes over you. For here, in this hallowed space, you stand on the threshold of history itself, poised to uncover the secrets of the ages.
"Ah..." The man's sigh carried the weight of centuries as he eased into one of the plush grey armchairs, crafted from the supple hide of seals. His eyes, like ancient tomes, held secrets untold as he poured a measure of brandy into a crystal glass, the amber liquid swirling with the promise of forgotten tales.
"I presume you received my call earlier?" His voice, smooth as polished marble, resonated with the echoes of ages past, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his lips.
"Uh..." You exchanged a glance with Steve, who was drawn to the intricacies of the art adorning the office walls like a moth to flame, his fascination palpable in the flicker of his gaze. With a subtle roll of your eyes, you summoned the words to respond. "Yes, you mentioned something about a new excavation, if memory serves."
His demeanor shifted, morphing into an aura of solemnity and intrigue. "Let's just say... it's not your run-of-the-mill excavation, confined to the depths of a tomb or the shadows of a pyramid," he intoned cryptically, the glint in his eyes hinting at untold secrets swirling within the depths of his mind. With a deliberate motion, he raised the glass of brandy to his lips, savoring the amber liquid as if it held the key to ancient mysteries.
"Why don't you both have a seat so we can discuss this further?" His gesture encompassed the other plush armchairs surrounding the dark wooden table, it was only then that you realized your own stance, frozen in the doorway like a sentinel of the past, while Steve remained ensnared by the allure of the unknown, his curiosity guiding him further into the depths of the enigma before you.
Your legs propelled you forward with an urgency that betrayed the gravity of the moment, guiding you to the plush embrace of the armchair before Thothmes. Your eyes, like intrepid explorers, scanned the room for a glimpse of connection, seeking solace in the warmth of a familiar gaze. They settled upon a pair of mesmerizing honey-colored orbs, ensnared by the enigmatic allure of a Sphynx cat statue adorned with glistening golden earrings.
With a discreet clearing of your throat, Steve's eyes met yours, a silent exchange of understanding passing between you. His gaze lingered for a moment, before you gestured towards the seat beside Thothmes.
"Proceed," you said with a nod, your hands resting calmly in your lap as you awaited the unfolding revelation. The tension in the room was palpable, a silent acknowledgment of the gravity of the situation.
"Last week, we received a warning of a rockfall on a mountain in the Whale Desert," the old man continued, his voice carrying the weight of impending revelation. You glanced at your fellow Egyptologist, now sitting beside you, noting the quiet contemplation that settled over him, mirroring your own thoughts.
"We initially believed we were dealing with the remains of some other fossil or skeleton of a large animal," he continued, his words punctuated by the weight of uncertainty. "So, we dispatched a team of paleontologists to investigate the crash site."
As he finished speaking, a heavy silence descended upon the room, punctuated only by the sound of liquid being drained from the glass in his hand, leaving an ominous echo lingering in the air.
"It turned out it wasn't a fossil, much less a skeleton, so we withdrew the team," he explained, folding his hands thoughtfully on the table before him. The weight of uncertainty hung heavy in the air, a silent reminder of the unknown lurking in the shadows.
"And what about the unconventional excavation? Do you want us to dig these caves?" Steve's inquiry cut through the tension, his raised eyebrow accentuating the skepticism in his voice. The soft glow of the office lights played off his eyebrow piercing, lending an air of defiance to his demeanor.
"We don't excavate caves, Thothmes. Tombs, pyramids, temples, abandoned galleries—that's our domain, not caves," you interjected solemnly, a note of frustration creeping into your voice as you questioned the purpose of this meeting.
"My dear, I never said it was a cave," Thothmes replied cryptically, his words hanging in the air like a shroud of mystery, leaving you to ponder the true nature of the task that lay before you.
"What do you mean 'not a cave'?" you pressed, exchanging a perplexed glance with Steve. Meanwhile, a knowing smile spread across the businessman's face, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.
"What I am about to reveal to you is company confidential and must not leave this room," he began, his tone weighted with significance. He paused, casting a meaningful look between the two of you before continuing. "Apparently, we have stumbled upon a type of sanctuary hidden within the mountain. We still don't know its origin or which people it belongs to. But I believe that the best person to lead an exploration expedition is you, one of the finest archaeologists in the business and a trusted friend."
Steve's mocking expression and suppressed laughter didn't escape your notice, but you remained fixed on Thothmes, feeling like a fish out of water as you struggled to find the right words.
"I... Um, it's a departure from our usual expeditions," you managed to explain, your words stumbling out in a rush. "I might need a team of professional excavators, not to mention the logistics of an excavation site in the middle of the desert. The costs for—"
But before you could finish your sentence, the old man interjected firmly, cutting off your concerns. "We are not talking about costs here, my dear. I will pay whatever it takes if it means you will take charge of this exploration," he declared, his gesture dismissing any financial worries with a wave of his hand.
Your eyes met Steve's, finding reassurance in his nod of encouragement. Taking a deep breath, you found resolve in his silent support. "Well..." you began tentatively, feeling a surge of determination wash over you. "In that case, we accept!"
"Perfeito!" The old gentleman's eyes sparkled with excitement as he clapped his hands together, a sense of anticipation palpable in the air. With a graceful stride, he crossed the room to one of the ornate paintings adorning the walls, his movements fluid and purposeful. With a gentle yet deliberate touch, he shifted the painting aside, revealing a hidden safe concealed behind it.
A hushed murmur of intrigue rippled through the room as the safe was unveiled, its metallic surface gleaming softly in the ambient light. With practiced ease, the old man dialed the combination, the tumblers clicking into place with a satisfying finality. With a soft thud, the door swung open, revealing the contents within.
From the depths of the safe, he retrieved a thick folder, its pages brimming with secrets waiting to be discovered. With a sense of reverence, he placed the folder on the table before you and Steve, the weight of its contents echoing the gravity of the task ahead.
"Here are some basic information about the site, team suggestions, equipment availability... Everything you need," he declared, his voice carrying a note of solemnity and determination. As you and Steve pored over the documents before you, a sense of adventure tinged with uncertainty filled the room, setting the stage for the journey that lay ahead.
"You mentioned something about the Whale Desert," Steve's tone was laced with skepticism. "I know full well that area is extremely inhospitable and nearly uninhabitable," he continued, his brows furrowed in concern. "We'll likely have to set up camp there, which worries me a bit due to the region's propensity for attacks by art thieves..." You vocalized, your own brow furrowing as you contemplated the level of danger involved.
Thothmes's laughter echoed through the cozy room, filling the space with a sense of warmth and reassurance. "My friends, why all this concern?" he asked theatrically, his eyes twinkling with confidence. "I've already made sure to hire an elite team for your protection. They're highly qualified to handle this type of terrain, so there's no need to worry.”
As Steve's eyes communicated a promise of future discussions, a silent pact passed between you both.
"In that case, we accept the challenge," Harrington proclaimed, his voice carrying a note of determination that bordered on defiance.
"Very well, it's yours," the old man conceded with a gracious nod, extending his hand for you and Steve to shake. His eyes held a glint of admiration as he added, "It's always a pleasure doing business with you, Miss." The weight of his words hung in the air, hinting at a history of mutual respect and shared endeavors.
As you both bid farewell to Thothmes and exited the room, you couldn't resist slapping Steve on the arm.
"What was that for?" Steve exclaimed, rubbing his arm where your hand had made contact.
"It's for your behavior today," you replied sharply, your frustration evident in your tone.
"And should I mention how bizarre that proposition was? And all this secrecy?" Steve grumbled, clearly frustrated by the situation.
"Steve, my dear and esteemed companion, care to explain why you think this is a strange proposal? I don't know if you've realized, but we're archaeologists, well, I'm more of one than you... But there's nothing strange about a proposal for excavation in a different terrain," your voice laced with false calmness as the two of you walked out of the building.
"I don't know... Something about all this seems off to me, call it a gut feeling or something, but I don't think he reached out to us just out of camaraderie," Steve voiced his concerns as he unlocked the car. "Maybe you didn't notice, but he lied about the sanctuary." A pair of intense honey-colored eyes met yours. "Thothmes knows what's in that cave, and he knows exactly where it came from." A strange sensation coursed through your body.
"How can you be so sure?" Thothmes wasn't known for his lies, quite the opposite. "Body language, that old man loves a face-to-face conversation, but he looked away as soon as he spoke," Steve explained, his voice tinged with disbelief. You glanced at him incredulously, the sound of the car engine turning over becoming background noise.
"Because he look away? Seriously, Steve?" You shook your head. "I think hunger is starting to affect your brain. We should stop for lunch." He rolled his eyes but maintained the same thoughtful and suspicious expression for the rest of the way to the nearest restaurant.
Back in the dimly lit office, Thothmes stood by the window, a phone pressed to his ear while he held a glass of tequila in his other hand, the amber liquid swirling ominously.
"Mr. Raneb? It's me," his voice echoed through the receiver, the words carrying a weight of secrecy and intrigue.
"Thothmes, how many times do I have to remind you not to use that name?" The voice on the other end crackled with authority, sending a shiver down Thothmes' spine.
"My apologies, Mr. Damien. But I bring news," Thothmes replied, his tone subdued yet filled with urgency.
"What news?" The question hung in the air like a foreboding cloud, thick with tension.
"A sanctuary has been unearthed in the heart of the Whale Desert," Thothmes revealed, his voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid of being overheard.
There was a pregnant pause on the other end of the line, the silence stretching taut like a wire.
"I've secured the services of the finest archaeologist to explore the depths of the mountain," Thothmes continued, his words laden with implication.
"Get that bastard out of there as soon as possible," came the icy command, the line abruptly going dead before Thothmes could respond, leaving him alone with his thoughts and the unsettling knowledge of what lay ahead.
Seated in the cozy nook of "Cleo's Kitchen," you and Steve perused the menu, your stomachs growling in anticipation of the feast to come.
"We're gonna dive into two hawawshi, gotta have that koshary fix, and wash it all down with a pitcher of Asab, ya know?" you grinned at the waitress, your enthusiasm infectious.
"Oh, and throw in a Kunafa for dessert, 'cause we're treating ourselves today," Steve chimed in, nodding in agreement.
With the order placed, you leaned back in your chair, already imagining the burst of flavors awaiting your taste buds, the atmosphere alive with the promise of culinary delights and good company.
The tantalizing aroma of sizzling meat and fragrant spices filled the air as your order arrived at the table. The hawawshi boasted a crispy exterior and a savory filling of minced meat, onions, and aromatic herbs, tantalizing your senses with each bite. Next to it, the koshary presented a colorful medley of lentils, rice, pasta, and caramelized onions, topped with a drizzle of tangy tomato sauce and a sprinkling of crunchy fried onions. The pitcher of Asab, a traditional Egyptian drink made from fermented barley, promised a refreshing and slightly tangy flavor, perfect for washing down the hearty meal. And finally, the Kunafa arrived, a decadent dessert featuring layers of crisp, golden pastry filled with sweet cheese and drenched in a fragrant sugar syrup, offering a delightful balance of textures and flavors to round off your culinary journey.
"I'll tell ya, there's nothin' like this food," Steve mumbled between mouthfuls of koshary, a satisfied grin spreading across his face.
"You know what really gets me about our job?" You took a swig of your drink, relishing the cool refreshment. "The food. I mean, getting to taste all these exotic flavors, it's like a culinary adventure every time we're on the road."
"Yeah, but sometimes I just crave a good ol' burger, fries, and a giant soda," Steve chuckled, a twinkle of nostalgia in his eyes as he recalled a fond memory.
You smiled along with him, your eyes drifting to the sleek black folder nestled in your backpack. Intrigued, you reached for it, flipping it open to peruse its contents.
"Thothmes must've had his coffee this morning," you remarked, flipping through the contents of the folder with a wry smile.
"What's in it?" Steve leaned over, his curiosity piqued.
"An excavation permit signed, site details, a list of available machinery and vehicles, info on our elite team... you know, the usual drill," you replied nonchalantly, snapping the folder shut and diving back into your meal.
As he perused the contents of the folder, you indulged in the divine feast before you, savoring each flavorful bite.
"Seems like it's the same old song and dance," he remarked, tucking the folder away into his backpack. "So, what's on the agenda for today, boss?" he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Back to the hotel to tackle a mountain of mundane tasks—endless phone calls, a deluge of emails, and compiling a laundry list of necessities. I want everything squared away by tomorrow," you declared, finishing off your drink and signaling for the bill.
"Whoa, easy there, tiger," he joked. "I still want to enjoy my vacation a bit. Can't it wait another... five days?"
"I'll strangle you if it's not tomorrow," you replied, handing the Egyptian pounds to the waitress and getting up with him.
"Be gentle with me, sweetheart, I'm delicate, you know?" You playfully nudged him and exited the restaurant together.
Back at the hotel, your afternoon resembled a bustling marketplace of phone calls, list-making marathons, email exchanges, and deep dives into research into the cozy five-star room.
The walls are adorned in rich tones of chocolate brown and sleek black, exuding a sophisticated ambiance that immediately captivates the senses.
At the center of the room stand two queen-size beds, each adorned with crisp white linens that contrast beautifully against the deep hues of the walls. The bedding is accented with delicate cream-colored details, adding a touch of refinement to the inviting sleeping quarters. Plush pillows and sumptuous duvets promise a restful night's sleep, while the meticulously made beds beckon you to sink into their welcoming embrace.
Between the beds, a sleek bedside table stands, its polished surface gleaming softly in the ambient light. Against one wall, a spacious wardrobe offers ample storage for your belongings, its dark wood finish complementing the elegant decor of the room. Inside, plush bathrobes and slippers await, promising indulgent comfort and relaxation during your stay.
"Finally, I thought that day would never end..." The guy dramatically collapsed onto the bed, limbs splayed out like a starfish.
"We need to double-check everything before sundown, Stevie," you announced, stifling a laugh as he protested like a petulant child.
"Alright, let's get this show on the road." He snatched up a sheet of paper eagerly. "We'll dispatch three REO M35 trucks as advance scouts, loaded with the gear to establish our campsite. Another trio will accompany the team and transport our machinery; each truck's capacity should more than suffice." You outlined the plan as Steve diligently scribbled down the details. "Then we'll send in four more trucks stocked with provisions and water, followed by a lone Jeep for us to navigate the terrain and carry any additional essentials." He nodded in agreement, his excitement matching yours for the upcoming expedition.
"Our security detail boasts a robust lineup of 25 individuals, poised to lend a hand until we arrive," he remarked, his eyebrows shooting up in mild disbelief. "Quite the pampering we're receiving, isn't it?"
"Stay on track, Steve. We're expecting new equipment to kick things off, so keep a watchful eye on the team while I delve into our location research," you concluded with a weary sigh.
"About time, too. I was beginning to feel like I needed glasses from all this fine print," you shared a laugh, easing the tension of the moment.
"Found something interesting while digging into the location," you announced, making your way to the bed and flopping down.
"What? Some sketchy website?" He waggled his eyebrows mischievously, earning a pillow tossed his way.
"Gross," you wrinkled your nose in disgust. "It's an ancient legend about that desert, reminded me of a tale my folks used to tell me," you settled onto your side, glancing at him.
"You know I'm a sucker for ancient legends, spill it," he grinned eagerly.
"The legend goes that the desert was once part of the ocean, where the caves were as beautiful and colorful as coral reefs, unique to that little piece of sky. In those waters, giant whales roamed, and it was the domain of Apophis, the colossal serpent who was once the guardian of those waters," you recounted, weaving the tale with an air of mystery.
"But one day, the gods descended from the heavens and plunged into the deep waters. No one knows why, but there was a deafening roar followed by a scream that echoed across the four corners of the world. The gods ascended again, but they took all the water with them. Everything that lived there perished that day, except Apophis. They say the serpent still guards something there to this day," you concluded, and Steve sat there, mouth agape, captivated by the ancient tale.
"The whale skeletons! It's all starting to make sense now, isn't it?" Steve exclaimed, his eyes alight with excitement. "You mentioned it reminded you of a story your parents used to tell you. Now I'm even more intrigued," he urged, leaning in eagerly.
"Well, they had this fascinating tale about a warrior condemned to an eternal prison. The gods sealed him away in a cave, protected by a colossal serpent, in a place that was once submerged beneath the sea," you explained, the words carrying an air of mystery and ancient legend.
“I love this stuff... But hey, did they find any snake bones out there?” He asked hopefully.
“Not that I know of, but some say if you look out into the desert at night, from a certain vantage point, you can see the outline of a giant serpent slithering through the caves.” Steve seemed utterly captivated by the legend.
"No more tales for tonight." You yawned and settled into bed, as you and Steve always shared the room, pulling the covers snugly around you.
"Fine by me," Steve replied with a wink. "But I'll be dreaming of giant snakes and ancient mysteries."
Chuckling, you wished him goodnight, "Sleep well, my fellow adventurer."
"Likewise, Bug," Steve quipped, using the nickname he'd coined after discovering your fascination with scarab beetles.
That night, as you drifted into slumber, your mind ventured into a vivid dreamworld. In this dream, a mysterious figure immersed himself in the gentle embrace of a flowing river. His presence was enigmatic, veiled behind a striking jackal mask. Crafted with meticulous care, the mask enshrouded half of his face, its golden accents gleaming softly in the moonlight. Intricate designs adorned the mask's eyes, snout, ears, and forehead, adding an air of ancient mystique to his visage. A sheer black veil trailed from the back of the mask, dancing gently in the breeze like a wisp of shadow.
Beneath the mask, strands of dark, lustrous hair cascaded in luxurious waves, framing his strong and tattooed shoulders. Each curl seemed to sway rhythmically with the rhythm of the river, lending an ethereal quality to his presence. With a graceful movement, one of his hands rose to the mask's snout, lifting it ever so delicately, as if revealing a hidden truth or unveiling a long-guarded secret...
Suddenly, the tranquility of the dream was shattered by the intrusive blare of your alarm clock, jolting you awake from your reverie.
"If you don't shut that thing off, I swear I'll strangle myself with the sheets," Steve grumbled from his bed, buried under the covers.
As you turned off the blaring alarm, you couldn't help but chuckle at Steve's grumpy response from beneath the covers. "I promise I won't let it kill you," you teased, making your way to the bathroom.
The bathroom was a luxurious retreat within the hotel room, with its two rectangular marble sinks, each featuring intricately designed golden faucets that gleamed in the soft morning light filtering through the window. The faucets, elegantly curved like the necks of swans, seemed to add a touch of regality to the space.
Above each sink, a large and ornate mirror hung, its delicate frame adding a sense of refinement to the room. Below the mirrors, a spacious marble countertop provided ample space for toiletries, with neatly arranged towels and bath essentials adding to the sense of organization and luxury.
Taking a moment to appreciate the serene ambiance of the bathroom, you leaned against the sink, feeling the cool marble beneath your palms. Another day of adventure awaited, but for now, you allowed yourself to bask in the tranquility of the morning.
You brushed your teeth and then stripped down, making your way to the opposite side of the bathroom where a deep cobalt blue bathtub awaited you. The bathtub was a luxurious indulgence, its smooth curves and inviting depths promising relaxation and rejuvenation.
With a contented sigh, you stepped into the warm embrace of the water, feeling the tension of the night's sleep slowly melt away. As you submerged yourself, the scent of lavender-infused bath salts filled the air, soothing your senses and easing your mind.
The water cascaded over your skin in a gentle caress, washing away the remnants of sleep and leaving you feeling refreshed and invigorated. Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself to luxuriate in the moment, savoring the sensation of warmth and comfort enveloping you.
For a few precious moments, the world outside faded away, leaving only the soothing embrace of the bathtub and the soft hum of the hotel's air conditioning.
You emerged from the bath feeling refreshed, the scent of lavender-scented bath salts still lingering in the air. As you reached for one of the luxurious, embroidered robes hanging neatly by the sink, a sudden rap at the door interrupted your tranquil moment. "Bug, if you don't get out that bathroom in the next five seconds, I swear I'll pee on the carpet," your roommate's voice echoed through the door, tinged with urgency and a hint of desperation.
With a soft chuckle, you wrapped yourself in the plush robe, relishing its warmth against your skin, and called out, "Hold your horses, Steve, I'm on my way!" The fabric billowed around you as you strode to the door, feeling refreshed and ready to face the day's adventures.
Steve entered the bathroom for his morning routine, giving you the chance to get dressed. You opted for terracotta-colored khaki pants with a stylish double fold at the ankles, paired with a crisp white short-sleeved button-up shirt. Completing the ensemble, you adorned yourself with a brown fedora, a leather harness secured around your waist to hold brushes and a small dagger, plenty of sunscreen, and most importantly, your protective amulet.
The pendant bestowed upon you by your parents at the age of ten holds profound significance. At its center, an intricate piece of obsidian depicts the head of Anubis, the god of the underworld. Emerging from each side of Anubis's head, two stylized wings extend towards the sides of the necklace. Just below Anubis's head, rests a symbol of the Eye of Horus, carved into a blue stone. According to your parents, this necklace symbolizes spiritual protection and divine insight, serving as a constant reminder of their love and guardianship even in the face of the unknown.
With a deep breath to dispel any lingering thoughts, you fastened the golden necklace around your neck, ready to face the challenges of the day ahead.
As you and Steve descended to the lobby, your footsteps echoing softly against the polished marble floors, a formidable figure stood in wait. Clad in an all-black uniform, impeccably tailored and adorned with sleek golden accents, he exuded an air of authority that commanded attention. His cap, adorned with a subtle golden insignia, sat atop his head with a dignified tilt. His gaze, sharp and penetrating, seemed to pierce through the bustling lobby, fixing upon you and Steve with an intensity that hinted at the gravity of the task ahead.
As you approached the man, Steve headed to the reception desk, leaving you to initiate the conversation. The Colonel greeted you with a nod of his head, his demeanor exuding a sense of formality and professionalism.
"Miss..." He acknowledged you with a slight bow of his head, his tone respectful.
"You must be Colonel Duncan Smith," you extended your hand towards him, and he clasped it firmly in his own. "I'm the archaeologist who enlisted your services."
"Ah, Thothmes has spoken highly of you," he responded warmly. Duncan was a man nearing his forties, towering and muscular, exuding an aura of strength and authority. His physique spoke of years of discipline and dedication to his craft. A striking feature was his fiery blond-red mustache, complementing his jet-black hair with hints of gray, swept back in a manner that exuded confidence. His piercing green eyes held a depth that hinted at both wisdom and experience, observing the world with a keen intellect and unwavering determination.
"I hope only good things," you chuckled lightly, trying to ease the tension.
"The very best," he affirmed with a reassuring smile.
"Everything's set, can we go?" Steve inquired upon his return.
"The car is waiting for you both. I sent the rest of the team ahead to set up camp," Duncan informed. "I wanted to make sure personally that you would arrive safely," he added, extending his hand. "Colonel Duncan Smith."
Steve shook his hand and introduced himself, "Steve Harrington, Egyptologist."
"Shall we?" Smith gestured towards the exit, indicating it was time to depart.
In the car, Colonel Smith decided to address the curiosity that had been gnawing at him since the previous day.
"Sorry to intrude, Miss," he began, and you looked at him as if urging him to continue. "But is your last name by any chance Fagan?" he asked, curiosity evident in his expression.
"Yes, that was my father's last name. He was also an archaeologist," you replied, a fond smile touching your lips as you remembered your beloved father. But soon, concern crept in as you noticed the expression on Duncan's face. "Why do you ask?"
He looked at you with an inscrutable gaze.
"Thothmes didn't tell you," he stated rather than asked. "Didn’t tell what?" Steve interjected on your behalf.
Nothing could have prepared you for what was to come.
"Your parents died before they could excavate in that desert, in the same location we are heading to," Colonel Smith revealed. Both men looked at you, noticing your stunned expression.
A flood of emotions surged within you as Colonel Smith's words sank in. All you knew was that your parents had died in an accident before an excavation. There had been an explosion caused by one of the newcomers, which tragically claimed the lives of the entire team. Some speculated it was a premeditated homicide.
With a heavy heart, yet resolute, you spoke with confidence, ""I will honor the sacred legacy of my parents and achieve what they could only dream of.”
Duncan and Steve exchanged discreet smiles, recognizing the courage and determination in your gaze.
As the car pressed on along the road toward the unknown, the landscape shifted around you, the desert stretching out in all directions like an endless sea of sand and mystery. Duncan, observing you from the rearview mirror, made a silent vow to himself to protect you at all costs, even if it meant risking his own life. In that moment, the weight of responsibility mingled with the enigma of the desert, creating an atmosphere charged with emotions and anticipation for what lay ahead.
With each passing mile, the sun cast long shadows across the dunes, painting the sky with hues of white and blue. The air was thick with a sense of adventure and apprehension, each breath carrying the promise of discovery and danger. And amidst it all, you sat, a beacon of determination amidst the vast expanse of sand, your resolve unwavering in the face of the unknown.
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