#which might be the highest compliment I could receive

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Heard you were talking shit about Shijie

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#Poorly drawn MDZS #MDZS #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #jin zixuan #violence #blood #for those minding trigger warnings #For once I don't have much to say here. Unlike Jxz who could have benefited from saying less #World history tells us that when you disrespect the queen #you get your head chopped off #get bit idiot #Oh I do have a little note; I showed the wip of this to a friend and it made him laugh at loud #despite having no context #which might be the highest compliment I could receive #With this we are *finally* done with the first flashback! Back to present time (goodbye wwx beauty mark)

[greenerteacups]

Hi! I made this account just so I could interact with you like this and tell you that your writing got me back out of a reading slump! Should you ever choose to author and publish a book please let me know, I will be the first to pick it up at the nearest bookstore available. I'm very excited to see where you take us in the fifth installment of your rewrite for this series! And quick question, which Hogwarts house do you align yourself with? ∼ Cheers and much love from an anonymous Hufflepuff

You're so incredibly sweet, thank you for warming my heart on a very cold day. Hearing someone say 'I would pay for your work' is kind of the highest compliment a fanfic author can receive. In the meantime, it's my honor to give you something that you can enjoy for free!

I waffle on the House question, since my view on Sorting is very contextual and volitional. Like, Sorting happens when you're eleven, right after you're boated up to the castle in this big stinking display of magical grandeur that's probably shit-slapping levels of scary, and then you get stood up in front of every peer you have and asked to decide what you want your place in that universe to be. That makes for some panicky, spur-of-the-moment decision-making! No wonder a lot of pureblood kids default to the House their parents picked! No wonder Harry ends up Gryffindor basically by default after blurting "not Slytherin" (which is the Hat's first suggestion — remember that the first two things Harry wants to do when he finds out he's a wizard are (1) jinx Dudley (avenge himself) and (2) buy a pure golden cauldron (status symbol). Canon!FirstYear!Harry is like, probably a Slytherin by temperament, being a neglected eleven-year-old child who's almost violently desperate for safety and approval and love, but that's okay, because being in Gryffindor turns him into one. Ron Weasley, in particular, turns him into one, but that's too much for me to get into right now.) Obviously, this all informs a lot of how I write character and socialization in Lionheart. House isn't destiny, it's culture! I could go on.

So like, if you sorted me right now? Gryffindor. Because I think bravery is the most important value in my life, it's what reminds me to be kind and patient and thoughtful, because it takes bravery to do those things in a world that is, frankly, much easier to navigate if you shut yourself off to others' feelings and ideas. But it's also a much worse world. That doesn't mean I'm not ambitious or curious or loyal, it just means that bravery is the value I consciously try to practice. But if you Sorted me at eleven, I'd probably get Slytherin, because I was — without doing The Backstory of it all — not the most jazzed-to-be-alive child, and I really, badly, desperately wanted to GTFO of my hometown and like — I dunno, succeed so hard it retroactively justified every time I was ever lonely? Somehow?? Details of that plan were always a bit unclear. But general "I am going to get a good grade in Life, something that is reasonable to want and possible to achieve" type vibes. Horrendous. Point being, I'd have likely asked for the House I identified with at eleven — Slytherin — because I considered "ambition" the most important virtue of my (again: eleven-year-old) life so far. (This is assuming that I don't run into a Hermione- or Ron-type character who warns me away from all the pureblood/classist nastiness; if that happened, I'd probably end up in Ravenclaw.)

I have no idea whether the Hat would have agreed with me. In canon, we never see it actually veto a choice, only grant requests. Which makes me wonder — if someone asked for a House that they were really, profoundly ill-suited for (as I think some of the canonical Slytherins might have done), what would it do?

#footnote to the last paragraph that I find fun is that lionheart!draco doesn't initially ask the hat for Slytherin #he's so carried off in the assumption that he'll end up there he doesn't bother to ask #but this is draco's problem #he splits up all goods into “things i deserve” and “things i don't deserve” #so as a kid it doesn't occur to him that he doesn't “deserve” to be in slytherin #and that the hat wouldn't as such immediately acknowledge that fact #which of course. prevents him from actually. yknow. asking for it. #blessed little idiot. see? do you see how asking nicely could have improved your life?? #another possible subtitle for LH tbh. #greenteacup asks

[writingforatwistedworld]

(Player just arrived in twst. (I do not know why but player ended up sounding really yanderism and lowkey a bit manipulative. It's in Writing your heart out category. I love your work ❤️)

Très cher Rook,

I am disappointed in you.

Back in my world you were my favorite. I loved your unique way to view the world, how much you loved beauty in all it form, and how entertaining and sociable you were.

And when I arrived, I thought I had shown you that you were still my number one. I spent almost all my time with you, shower you with praises and affection, and dote on you more than anyone. And this is how you repay me ?

You follow me ? Far from minding it, I took it as a compliment and your way to show your devotion to me. I even went as far as posing for you, smiling at where you were and blowing you a kiss or two. Nevermind that since we weren't together I shouldn't have. You had always been the bold and passionate type, so I naively thought that you just couldn't resist it anymore. And I was glad for it ! Finally you were going to court me after !

But you didn't. You acted like everything was perfectly normal. Like I didn't give you the highest honor, the most profound and sincere sign of my love, trust, and affection for you. Worse. You went and followed someone else. Did you think I wouldn't remark ?! Ah ! How foolish I am ! To believe that your beautiful and tender gaze was meant only for me ! That your sweet words of how much you liked me and I was special were true !

If only words could convey how heartbroken you made me ! Maybe I should favor Vil or Epel instead.....at least now I could be sure that my love wouldn't be so easily taken for granted and disdained ! And yet, my heart can't let go of you mon petit chasseur. Despite how cruel you were, silly me still love you to the moon. I would do so much for you, love you so much more than anyone and anything.

But I am willing to let go of you. Even if it break me to do so. I refuse to be less important in your eyes than someone else. So I will give you one chance. Une seule. And if you fail I will go to the fae in Diasomnia and ask them to erase every feelings and memories I have of you !

You will understand if I do not have the strenght to see you in person yet.

So send someone to give me your response if you do not wish for our love to end on such a tragedy. Next time, I expect you to court me properly. Woe me and show me how I am so much more important than anyone else for you. Prove me that I was right to give you this chance.

Or else you know what to expect.

Sincerely,

Ton oiseau qui se demande s'il devrait volait loin de toi mon amour.

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, obsession, possessiveness, stalking, murder, blood, mutilation, unhealthy relationship

Rook Hunt-Straying from the right path

Feeling someone tapping your shoulder you looked at the one behind you. Epel stood there nervously as if you would rip his head off any moment. Handing you a letter he apologized multiple times before he turned around and ran away. Was this the response to your letter? You would have never imagined that it would be this extreme.

Mon amour,

I deeply apologize for everything that I have done!My affection belongs to you and you only! When I diverted my attention towards them I was always also watching you. I was worried that I might offend or make you uncomfortable by being close to you. My heart can handle others telling me that I frighten them by me investigating them but you, non, you are perfection in person! How could I ever dare to make you feel that way? I would rather rip my heart out and present it to you! The fairest queen ordered her hunter to bring her Snow Whites heart, now you shall have mine.

When we were still separated I was honored to be the one who received your affection and attention. C'était plus que je ne pourrais jamais rêver! My entire life I had always dreamt of just getting a glimpse of you! Your might, your wisdom, your grace and your perfection! La muse parfaite! And then I dared to turn my gaze towards the path of ignorance! But I shall correct my mistakes if you were to allow me. I am your loyal hunter! Unlike the one which betrayed the queen so long ago I will follow every single of your orders. Would you want the snow-white skin of Neige, the fairest of our generation, or the red color of his lips, his blood? Tell me and I will deliver them to you. As a hunter I have more than enough experience how to take certain body parts from former living beings.

Every single bit of your attention that you gave me was a sign to me that my pursuit of beauty was not in vain. Your shining eyes were the most beautiful things I had ever seen in my entire life. However, I also asked myself if I was even allowed to look just look at you. A mere commoner like me is nothing in comparison to you. So I wasn't only afraid of making you feel uncomfortable but also questioning whether I was ever worth being in your presence.

There are no words that could express how much I regret my behavior. I belong to you. From the tip of my hat to the skin which touches the ground, I am yours. If you wish to punish me then please do not hold back. Mes fautes sont irréparables!

But now I know that this was a grave mistake from my side. Mom amour, la perfection incarnée, I would be honored if you allowed me to court you. As it seems like you were waiting for that and thus, I shall do exactly that. If you are angry at me for not realizing that sooner then I will happily hand you my best hunting knife. Maybe it would be the best for both of us for me to let you do the deed of taking what keeps me alive from my chest.

But at the same time, please give me that chance you are talking about! I couldn't bear seeing you with Epel or Vil! I would rather drive my best arrows through their hearts than let them take you away! You have something much more important to survive than me after all. You have taken a piece of my soul. So don't leave me! Let me be yours!

I cannot express how grateful I am to receive this second chance. I will not disappoint you this time. There is no need for you to erase your feelings and memories. Je n'arrive pas à croire que tu ressente cela pour moi. I have an idea! Why not poke my eyes out so that I only have your memory left? Like that I will never stray away from the right path, your path, ever again!

I am awaiting your response. Let me repent for my actions!

Always yours,

Rook Hunt

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twst x reader #self aware au #yandere rook x reader #yandere rook hunt #tw: yandere #tw: obsession #tw: possessiveness #tw: stalking #tw: mutilation #tw: blood #tw: murder #tw: unhealthy relationship

[justviwriting]

'Brighter Future'

Fandom: Bridgerton Characters: Edwina Sharma Pairing: Edwina/Prince Friedrich Rating: G Words: 1.592 Summary: Edwina writing down her thoughts and feelings on meeting Prince Friedrich for the first time and how to move forward after the failed wedding. A/N: So I wanted to write something nice for Edwina because I’m currently working on two fanfics where I’m not really treating her that much better than the show did (she gets her happy ending but she’s still the victim of Anthony’s behaviour in those fics). And I had this idea for a short oneshot, consisting of three diary entries about her meeting Prince Friedrich for the first time. Hope you like it :)

[you can also read it on AO3]

Friday, June 3rd 1814

Tomorrow is a very exciting day – perhaps the most exciting one in a while. Her Majesty the Queen had informed me that her nephew, Prince Friedrich of Prussia, would be joining us in town for the remainder of the season. She had also told me that she could not wait for me to be introduced to him. It was not the first time that the Prince had been mentioned. Her Majesty had already let me know a while ago – after the whole disaster with the failed wedding – that her nephew was still looking for a bride. Which is also why I believe that his sudden visit was neither scheduled nor a coincidence. Perhaps, he had even decided to visit this town solely to meet me.

If that is true, I believe I should be thrilled. One does not meet a prince every day. Yet somehow, I worry. What if I do not meet his expectations? If my suspicion is correct, the Queen would have without doubt mentioned me to him, letting him know about the woman she had named the Diamond. Will I again be a disappointment to Her Majesty?

And it is not just the Queen who appears to be delighted about the news of her nephew’s arrival. Mother had mentioned the Prince as well, the smile bright on her face. And Kate had said that maybe soon I will be receiving the wedding and the husband I deserve. They are almost talking about it as if it was already set in stone, yet I had not even met him. What if he does not like me? What if no man will ever like me?

Lord Bridgerton and I might have decided to let everyone know that ending our engagement had been a mutual decision. We had been nothing but amicable towards one another in public. Yet people love creating their own version of events, and with him and Kate engaged to one another so soon after, there are more than enough stories to be created. Will the Prince believe the whole scenario to be odd as well?

I could tell myself that everyone just wants for me to be happy, but somehow, I doubt it. Mother wants me to be happy, I know that. Kate wants me to be happy as well, of course, yet I also know that she still feels guilty. I do not know Lord Bridgerton’s feelings – he had told me that he was sorry but he had also lied to me many times in the past. I do not doubt that both of them would prefer for me to find happiness, just so they do not have to feel any guilt in regard to their own happiness. And of course I want for them to be happy – the past cannot be changed. But I also cannot convince myself that their wish for my happiness is completely selfless.

And of course the Queen probably only hopes that she had not been mistaken in naming me her Diamond.

So all I can do now is hope that the Prince will like me. Still, I am nervous. I hope tomorrow will go well.

Saturday, June 4th 1814

I am delighted to write that today has been wonderful and that the Prince had been nothing but charming. A true gentleman and a delightful presence. He had given me the highest of compliments about my beauty and wisdom. And he is also a very handsome man. I had danced with him several times tonight and although I enjoyed it very much, I have to admit that I now feel somewhat odd.

Part of me would call him perfect – perfect in every aspect. A man I could imagine raising a family with, and a man I could imagine falling in love with. Yet another part of me is hesitant. Because it had not been too long ago when I had felt the same about a different man – a man that will now marry my sister.

I had never believed Lord Bridgerton to be disingenuous in his feelings. He had never told me that he loved me, yet his actions and words had made me believe that he was in love with me nonetheless. Looking back at that time now, perhaps I should have realised that his feelings were not what I had believed. Perhaps I should have even noticed that bond between him and my sister. But in the end, I had not noticed anything until the wedding. How do I know I might not be mistaken again? What if the Prince is just like him?

I had let Kate know my worries earlier, after she had asked me whether something was amiss. She had then told me that I should not let the past haunt my future, and had also apologised for her actions and secrecy again. I had told her in return that I have already forgiven her, but that forgiveness did not mean I could forget the past that easily.

And now I worry – I fear, even – that every single man will only ever remind me of the Viscount. That every time I talk to a man, my doubts will prevent me from accepting their honesty. And what would that mean for me? Will I ever marry? Will I ever be able to fall in love? Kate said that there is no need for me to marry this season if I needed more time. But will time help? Not just in regards to my confusion but also in regards to my prospects? What if the Prince proposes to me? Could I decline someone like him, just because I’m confused? Not to mention that I do like him quite a lot.

I cannot help but imagine what would have happened had I not noticed the feelings my sister holds for Lord Bridgerton. We would have married then. And perhaps, at some point, I would have realised that he had never loved me, and never would.

I had shared those thoughts with Kate as well and she had simply replied that – with her moving back to India – perhaps love could have grown between us. However, I believe that the possibility of that happening would have been very small. I had been a trophy for him, nothing more. Certainly not a wife to fall in love with. Kate had then urged me to talk to Lord Bridgerton about this but I do not believe that to be a good idea. With my confused feelings, I would only cause an argument. And that would not help ease any current tension. And it does not matter anymore. I can count myself lucky that it had never gone that far, and I know that I need to move forward. But for some reason, it is not as easy as I wish for it to be.

Tuesday, June 7th 1814

I had just shared a lovely conversation with the Prince. He had been as friendly and charming as before, and had told me that Lord Bridgerton had talked to him. Apparently, he had let him know the entire story, as well as my doubts. I had been angry at first – although, of course, I had not let the Prince know my anger. However, this was my problem to deal with, and people meddling within my life had caused this problem to begin with.

Nonetheless, the conversation with the Prince had been nice. He had reassured me that he understood my hesitation and had then told me that he would not consider proposing to me before he knew I was ready to make a genuine decision. I had been shocked to hear that – part of me is still in shock. I would have not believed that he was already considering to propose to me.

He had also told me how much he likes me – how pretty he thinks I am, how wise and smart, how well spoken and kind. He had said that he had never met anyone like me and that he had no issue with taking some time so we could get to know one another – that he did not need to marry now and was more than willing to wait for me. I’m afraid I had started to blush at his words, and even now, while writing this, there is still a smile on my face.

Kate had told me that Lord Bridgerton had believed the Prince to be an excellent match for his eldest sister. And apparently his requirements for his sister’s future husband had been very high and exacting. So perhaps, the Prince truly is an honourable and honest man. But maybe Kate was right as well. I do not need to marry right now. Perhaps, it is better to get to know the man that might become my husband. I had believed myself to be in love with Lord Bridgerton, and maybe I had been, but maybe I had also fooled myself to love him because I wanted to. And the Prince had offered to wait for me, after all. Either, he will decide to honour that promise, in which case I will know that he is the right man. Or he won’t, and at least then I won’t be married to him. And he is a prince, after all. He does not have to wait for any woman – certainly not a woman who had just been rejected by a viscount. If he waits, his feelings are genuine. And that thought surely makes the future appear brighter.

#bridgerton #fanfiction #edwina sharma #edwina x friedrich

[zackmartin]

Z THE CONCEPT OF YOU REBOOTING VALIANT KNIGHT LITERALLY HAS ME FROTHING AT THE MOUTH. it literally never left my head i am always thinking about it at least a little bit. literally recently i came up with a concept for how some of my original characters for my spinoff would fit into valiant knight fnsnskdj and so i technically have like a rewrite/sequel concept that includes zenry and jasper/[redacted] fnsmdnkxnsn which included me rereading the chapters i beta'd for you to remember some details and i was like UGH THIS WAS SO GOOD I MISS IT

LASKDJOSKJVMODKMVLDSKJFSOKJFSLDKFJ HELLO?????????? ARE YOU AWARE THAT I'D LAY DOWN MY LIFE FOR YOU???? CAUSE I SERIOUSLY WOULD LAY DOWN MY LIFE FOR YOU!!!!! BUT AHHHHHHHHHHH

SERIOUSLY THOUGH, THIS IS ONE OF THE HIGHEST COMPLIMENTS I'VE EVER RECEIVED, I'M LEGIT GONNA CRY (affectionate), I'VE BEEN STARING AT THIS ASK FOR LIKE SIX HOURS, LIKE THERE AREN'T ENOUGH WORDS IN THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE TO ARTICULATE HOW MUCH THIS MEANS TO ME

but seriously, like I'm not trying to rag on my writing or anything, but I also know like. I'm not writing anything that's gonna be winning awards anytime soon or anything ground-breaking or anything, but that's never been my goal; and I just say all of that to say that the fact that you're still thinking about something of mine years later and it stuck with you so much that you want to put your own characters into it??????? That's literally so wild to me in the best way, I can't get over it. I'm so serious when I say again that this legit one of the best compliments I've ever received. (Also, if you're willing, I'd very much like to hear about this rewrite/sequel of sorts)

You have me legit thinking about it now. Like I told Pearl in the replies, I feel like my writing is leagues better (i reread stuff from that time period and just cringe now; but to be fair to my past self, she was a novice who was coming back to writing after a 10+ year break so it stands to reason) so I feel like I could do a lot more with it. There's soooo much of that world I want to flesh out that I wasn't skilled enough to do when I first started it. lsakdjf idk man, I might actually do it

#asks #casey tag #i've been wanting to write something fantasy related for SO LONG. I tried to do it with zenry but I could never work it out :/ #honestly if you wanna find a way to collab on it I'm 10000% down with that (no pressure ofc) #but I legit feel like the VK is just as much yours as it is mine #like I know I've told you before but you seriously spoiled me when it comes to beta readers #you provided me with such valuable notes and insight that the VK wouldn't have been even *half* of what it is without you #if I do decide to reboot it though. l I decided a long time ago that I'm not posting anymore fics until I have the majority of them done #hence why there hasn't been anything new from me in four years alskdjf #but I just don't want to run into the same problem I did originally with the VK #and now with DoD #where I start it. get stuck or don't have the drive to finish it. and then it gets abandoned #so at least we won't have to worry about me posting 3 chapters and then either not finishing it or going 'fuck it I'm starting over' aslkdj #sorry if this is messy it's late and my brain is fried

[dutybcrne]

@museheavn said : Physical Touch + Quality Time + Words of Affirmation / for Kaeya? Lumine is curious. 『 Meme || Accepting 』

Words of Affirmation

does your muse like giving compliments? 

Loves giving compliments. He's well aware some people won't think them genuine, but he'll do so anyways. He'd scarcely leave a compliment left unsaid once it's come to mind, especially if he particularly adores the person they're directed at and they are more receptive to his words. But above all, he knows many people thrive off praise, so he will oftentimes carefully observe what it is they would most value praise of and compliment them accordingly. That way, even if they don't believe him the first, second, or even seventh times, at the very least, they know someone recognized their efforts. If he does get a favorable reaction from the get-go, he himself will thrive and feel quite happy for the rest of the day, more so if he sees his words left a lingering impact.

how easy is it for your muse to say ‘ i love you’?

It used to be. Those of the Winery, particularly Diluc, Crepus, Adelinde and Elzer, even Tunner at times, had all gotten at least one 'I love you' per day from him. They were important to him, so he made sure they knew at all times and never forgot it, the INSTANT he was comfortable enough saying it.

Nowadays, he finds it much harder to say. Be it to significant others or even those closest to him, like family. He chokes up even saying it back to Klee, when she'll happily give it out, like he used to. He can't help feel guilty about it each time he tries and fails to get it out. He won't stop trying to, but it's hard.

Because he thinks he might jinx himself if he does. Thinks if he does, he'll wake up like it were all a dream and break his own heart over it. Worse still, fears if he does, the gods would punish him and find some way to take that person from him. Sometimes, he's so anxious enough over those three words that his brain will spark the idea that he's being a liar, and doesn't truly mean it ( even if his heart damn well know he genuinely does, he never loves by half measures ).

Showing how much he loves them however, comes far more easily. Devotion is what he can give most, himself and his efforts and strength to that person without the slightest hesitation. Which is what he will default to and hope his feelings can come across until he can finally bring himself to voice his feelings.

what is one compliment your muse is dying to hear? && what is something your muse loves being praised for?

Putting these two together, because ultimately it's the same thing: That he's reliable/trustworthy. Compliments on his looks, he's garnered plenty over the years that responding is practically reflexive. Trying to directly praise his work and efforts for Mondstadt make him squirm uncomfortably. But that, he considers the highest praise. To be useful to someone, to have helped them and to be considered someone they can turn to anytime, ESPECIALLY if he's the first person they regard in such times, that he truly IS someone they can trust...after all's said and done, he treasures it greatly. May question why in their right mind they think so at first and joke about it aloud, but ultimately, even after the initial doubt's ebbed away, he'll find himself not only the happiest man in Mondstadt, but also far more fond of them as a result. And more inclined to give them more of himself in turn.

Quality Time 

what is your muse’s ideal date night? 

It's never feasibly going to happen to long as Diluc and his relationship stays the way it is, but Kaeya truly wants to treat any significant other to a day at the Winery. Give them a personalized spin about the place, not just what guests and/or business partners would receive. But a real tour of the place he wishes he could call HOME again, complete with showing off his childhood hiding places, and ways up onto the Winery roof to point out the clear skies, for cloud watching or stargazing. To have dinner there and introduce them to Adelinde, not as head maid of the Winery, but as the closest person to a mother he'd ever had. To make them feel just as much at home and part of the family as he once did.

Otherwise, his most self-indulgent want is helping his partner up onto either the palms of the great Barbatos statue, or atop the Knights HQ works just as fine too. Either way, he WILL find a way bring snacks and blankets up there to cuddle up under for optimal stargazing, and loves the idea of guiding his significant other's hands in pointing out constellations or celestial bodies of note. Especially if he recently gleaned their constellation from Mona and decided to try and look for it for them. He'll even study/freshen up on Rtawahist learnings as an extra something to impress them with. He'd be so eager and giddy to share all he knows with them.

how comfortable is your muse with prolonged eye contact? 

Not terribly comfortable, but that’s just a byproduct of him being rather particular about his eye and the star at its center. Wouldn’t do him any good if someone decided to do a little digging and learned a little too much about him. The last thing he wants is to gamble how well they'd react if they knew. And he knows that reaction would crush him far more than Diluc's ever did.

That and…eye contact gives him away so easily. Kaeya feels and even almost fears that his partner would be able to discern every last secret he has, the very depths of his feelings ( towards them, and just in general ), through his eye. It took him ages to perfect liar and facade he is today, but his eye might give him away no matter what he does. He’s always posturing and moving for a reason, playing up ample potential distractions however he may find them to keep their focus elsewhere.

does your muse prefer conversation or just sitting quietly with their s/o?

Outside of delighting in hearing his significant other ramble about anything and everything at all, Kaeya thinks sitting quietly together is better, in general. When it comes to deeper conversations, many tend to think him a liar and sweet talker as is, so he’d rather let his actions speak for him instead. At least until he is comfortable enough. That, and words were once not his strongsuit, so sitting in silence is a nice, safe way right to nostalgia. To let him open up just a little easier, as he'll feel safer to like this, a certain vulnerability he won't panic in the face of showing. As he'll give and accept careful little touches of his partner, embraces or playing with their hair, he’d do damn near anything to show his devotion once he’s sure enough with them over the course of that quiet moment. He will aim to make it unmistakable just how much he treasures them, no words necessary.

is it easy for your muse to devote their full attention to one person at a time?

As easy as it is breathing. He will outright shift his focus entirely and stand by their side the instant they make it known they want his attention. It doesn't matter what he was doing before, the moment they gesture for him or let their gaze linger on him, he will find his way back to them.

In general, his attention is usually divided between the one he's speaking with and the surrounding, always taking in and observing, but his significant other or otherwise someone important to him are a surefire way to get him to zero in and block everything else out for at least a moment, unless he decides otherwise based on what they want of him.

Physical Touch

does your muse like being hugged? 

By only a select few. He hates physical contact overall by anyone else ( even if he won't immediately recoil for sake of keeping up appearances ), but those he seems closest and safest, he will not only let them touch and hug from, but he will actively go out of his way to embrace and do so tightly, as though he’s scared he’d lose them if they let go. Then brush it off like he were playing a silly joke on them, like testing how strong they are.

where could someone touch your muse to calm them down? 

His hair in particular relaxes him the most, particularly gently threading fingers along the back of his head, from crown to the nape. Though it tends to make him a little sleepy if continually touched, even after he’s calmed down. He will be more inclined to lean on and snuggle the person doing so.

The second is a very particular one ONLY for significant others who’ve earned the sufficient trust and right for it, but it’s gently cupping the right side of his face. With the patch on or off, Kaeya will MELT into the person’s touch so easily, it’s not even funny. Coupled with soft words, one might even get Kaeya’s smiling facade to crumble entirely, just enough to receive in turn a teary look of sheer adoration and the raw feelings he’s held locked inside himself for so long. It’s damn near enough to break him, after so long of masking himself behind his little grins and silver-tongued words. Which is why…

is there anywhere on your muse’s body they want to be touched most?

…THAT^ is the place he wants to be touched the most. He WANTS that tender touch, WANTS to show himself as vulnerable, WANTS to be him, truly HIM, in front of his significant other, but he needs a little help with it. Any other time, movement toward that side of his face is met with a sharp flinch or a clear grimace he can't hide so easy, and for good reason.

But once that 'barrier', so to speak, is breached, it’s far easier for him to do so. Bc that is his ultimate display of trust—because once it’s given, his defenses come crashing down before them at the slightest touch. Once he’s sure he can allow them that and sees how they treat him at his most vulnerable, is assured they truly accept him, nothing else matters. Not his fear of the gods and what could go wrong, not that he may be deceived or could be hurt so easily, now more than ever—nothing.

does your muse find themselves subconsciously seeking out physical contact? ( ie. reaching for s/o’s hand without realizing it )

When he’s in love, it is achingly so that he longs for their touch. He’d find himself reaching for their hands, wanting to pull them close. He will linger on and think abt places they’ve held or touched him at, even if briefly, kisses they’ve left on his skin, wishing they’d leave a mark so he wouldn’t feel the loss as they head off wherever it is they’re going or as they turned they’re attention away from him. He can’t stand physical touch from most anyone else, can allow it from select few with little to no negative reaction, but with them, he’s utterly starved for it.

#museheavn // lumine #hc; kaeya #answered #//So so many hcs kjsdfjgkg #//Dunno if I expressed near half of these the way I wanted; and I am too scared to ask jdbfkgfg #long post for ts

[bowlingforgerbils]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you @gretchensinister for tagging me!

How many works have you written for AO3?

40 works! I have some older stuff on fanfiction.net.

What’s your total word count?

Do you know that this is the first time I've ever looked at the Statistics on my AO3 account. I didn't know I could see my total word count! Anyway it's 149,665.

What fandoms do you write for?

These days it's pretty much Good Omens. But I have not forgotten my first love, Rise of the Guardians.

Top 5 fics by kudos

"Jackpot", "He Followed me Home", "I wear your grandad's clothes, I look incredible", "Under the Mistletoe", and "I Promise to Take Care of Him."

The first and the third one are Pacific Rim fanfics, the fourth one is a Good Omens fanfic, and the second and fifth one are my two-parter about Charlie and the Scientist, a crack pairing in the It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia canon.

Do you respond to comments?

Yes. It's my way of showing appreciation that someone enjoyed my silly little story. And I'm always happy to answer questions or talk about the characters. <3

What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Umm.... I don't really do angsty endings... I guess Shakespeare in the Park? It's not a happy ending, anyway.

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Again, this is hard, almost all I write are happy endings! Maybe Co-Habitation, because it ends with Aziraphale and Crowley living in the South Downs, which is my Good Omens endgame.

Do you get hate on fics?

No, although when I originally started posting When You Wish Upon the Moon on fanfiction.net, someone whined at me in the comments about not wanting me to ship Pitch Black and Sandy together. Thankfully, AO3 has a great tagging system, so I assume anyone reading my stories knows what they are getting into beforehand.

Do you write smut?

Yes! Not lately. I should rectify that. :3

Do you write crossovers?

Yes, occasionally, if the mood strikes me.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I don't think so... I have a vague memory of someone asking, but that might have been on fanfiction.net.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, but many of my Rise of the Guardians fanfics wouldn't be what they are without the collective world-building of the blacksand community.

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

In general? Probably Aziraphale and Crowley. That I've written? Probably Pitch and Sandy.

What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?

I have a Good Omens pirate AU in my WIP folder that I lost steam in writing, but never say never.

What are your writing strengths?

I think I'm pretty good at dialogue, and also creating a plot that gives characters a chance to express themselves and hopefully experience some growth.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Moving the characters around in the physical space. I don't know if it's because of my generally weak spatial skills, but imagining where the characters are in the environment and each other is really hard! Fighting scenes in particular give me such a headache.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language?

It's not something I do, personally, except for a word here and there for flavor. I doubt that adding several lines of badly Google translated dialogue is going to add anything beneficial to my story.

First fandom you wrote for?

The Chronicles of Prydain, although I didn't know it was called fanfic because I was twelve and this was before the internet as we know it existed. It was about a self-insert fairy who was Doli's girlfriend. I liked how grouchy he was!

Favorite fic you’ve ever written?

It's a tough call, but probably He Followed Me Home. Not only because it was so much fun to write, but because I've received so many comments about how this story is a "comfort fic" for them, something that they read and re-read to feel better, and if that's not the highest compliment that I can receive as an author, then I don't know what is.

I tag whomever wants to do this!

#use your words

[luimagines]

*walks on in tiredly, hands you a mug of hot chocolate and a basket filled with cake to match, does not elaborate* Hey there, just passing on by to wish you a nice day, hopefully things have been well for you and if not, may your days brighten soon for you surely brighten a lot of people's days ^^

Not really much to say today because my brain is too tired and sleep deprived but yelling about your writing shall come eventually xD, as for assumptions, hm...

Likes The Legend of Zelda obviously, favorite game is probably a tie between Twilight Princess, Ocarina of Time and or Majora's Mask and Skyward Sword, possibly one of them was your first game too.

Really kind and patient person, though quite clever too and talented given your merch, you have a lot of asks and presumably a lot on your plate but still manage to answer as many as possible and don't mind people rambling here about different concepts or series and also write with a good degree of frequency, also quite firm to put your foot down when you're not okay with something, not in a bad way! More in a fair sense, and willing to offer an ear or empathy if someone's having a hard time, not many people can do that while keeping a level head.

Very cozy? The type of person who's very comfortable to be around in a sense, the type you think is really cool even if you only interacted once, but definitely the type someone might feel shy when actually approaching to interact or who might not go through with talking with as a result of said ahyness, plus your writing really makes my day some times, specially during bad ones, nothing better than suddenly find out you posted and reading through it with a mug of coffee or a cup of tea while my dog is curled up nearby, specially after some tiring days. Like a warm cappuccino cup with a book on an autumn afternoon if you will.

So over all someone who's doing their best and who anyone would be lucky to be friends with really ^^

Also Twilight is definitely one of your favorite Links, I have no idea who the runner up to him could be (possibly Time, because we all are simply Circe and Calypso when in the face of that man who'd give Odysseus a run for his money), but you can definitely talk about him for a long time and as a Twilight enjoyer that delights me a lot XD

Anyway, not really much to say besides that which likely has not been said before, so once again, thank you for all your work in the fandom, for inspiring me a d of course I hope you have many nice days and nights ahead of you!

-Just a Tired Anon on a Stroll/WintertimeStoryteller 🐚

Actually nope on the game guess. XD

I've been in the fandom for a while, but I've only played my first LoZ game back in 2020 and it was Breath of the Wild. ^.^*

My merch?..... My merch!??!... Like my shop? XD

Goodness, I've associated that word with like... youtubers and stuff with their own brands and such. It hit me like a truck until I remembered the full meaning of the word. Whoops-

(I do try to patient no matter the person/circumstance DX I'm glad it comes off that way.)

Cozy is the probably the highest compliment I've ever received from anyone ever. I gotta hang that up somewhere.

Twilight is one of my favorites, yes.... and also very quickly followed by Time. -.-

I realize that I am not subtle in that at all. XD

And you're an incredible individual as well. <3

I hope your days and nights are pleasant and darling. I love your rambles and long asks XD

#pinky replies #pinky answers #this was very sweet and a lovely surprise to find in my inbox <3 #I'm still on that wild west story you're teasing me with #Don't think I've forgotten ;-)

[angelmichelangelo]

For the fic writer emoji asks: ✨🍷🎢⛔

give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉

oof. thank you friend ;__; i think the highest compliment i could give to myself is that i have most definitely improved in the 10 something years i've been writing fic. i persisted because it was something i loved doing and all that work has paid off i think :) (and i hope it shows lol)

do you drink and write?

i have never.... but the idea of drunk writing fics sounds actually kinda fun.. like tipsy fics? could it perhaps be a new thing i try in 2023? maybe! we shall see !! haha

which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

probably bury the ghost! it was a fic that i spent a LOT of time writing out and fleshing each chapter out and posting them from week to week was a lot of fun and i really appreciated all the engagement i received from that fic. definitely a special one to me <3

do you have a fic you started, but scrapped?

oh THOUSANDS lmao. my google docs is a graveyard for old, forgotten fics. i did start posting my sambucky chef + critic au 'five stars' - i had a lot of ideas for that verse, a whole load of little spin off one-shots to follow after it but.. i just never got around to posting past the second chapter. i might end up deleting whats on my ao3 of that fic and try and write it as a whole before posting it again, only because someday i would like to try and revisit those ideas i had. but yeah, i could write a 100 page bullet point list of every fic idea i have scrapped. i have some google docs that are just half a sentence long and they've been that way for years lol - rip to the fics that don't make it :') </3

thanks for the ask, amigo <3

#ask #ask game #fic stuff

[basicsofislam]

THE COMPANIONS OF THE PROPHET (PBUH) : Abdullah bin Umm Maktum (r.a.)

Hz. Abdullah, who became a Muslim in the first years of Islam, who was one of  the muezzins of Prophet Muhammad, who was one of the first muhajjrs who migrated to Madinah and who was appointed as deputy 13 times by the Prophet during the expeditions and battles in Madinah to lead the prayers, was blind, but his heart and foresight were luminous.

Ibn Umm Maktum's real name was "Amr", but the people of Madinah called him "Abdullah". His father was Qays bin Zaida and his mother was Atika bint Abdullah. He was given the name "Ibn Umm Maktum" meaning "Son of Umm Maktum" in relation to his mother. He was also the son of Hz. Khadijah’s maternal uncle. [  Usdul-Ghaba, 4: 206.  ]

We learn from the talk with the Prophet about when Ibn Umm Maktum lost his eyesight:

According to what Hz. Anas narrates, once Hz. Jibril (Gabriel) entered into the presence of the Prophet. Ibn Umm Maktum was also there. Jibril asked, "When did you lose your eyesight?" He said, “When I was a child.” Thereupon, Jibril gave him the following glad tiding:

"Allah says: 'When I remove the eyesight of a servant, I will give him Paradise as a reward.'"

Thus, Ibn Umm Maktum received the glad tiding of Paradise while he was in the world. [  Tabaqat, 4: 206.  ]

Hz. Ibn Umm Maktum often went into the presence of the Messenger of Allah after he became a Muslim in order to listen to the Prophet. He memorized the verses of the Quran from the Prophet. Once, the Prophet  was conveying the message of Islam to some notables of Quraysh like Utba bin Shayba, Umayya bin Khalaf, and Abu Jahl with the following thought: "Perhaps a few of them will believe and the power of Islam will increase; thus, many people will become Muslims seeing them." Meanwhile, Ibn Umm Maktum arrived and said to the Prophet, "O Messenger of Allah! Read me the Quran. Teach me what Allah taught you."

As the Prophet was busy with the notables of Quraysh, he could not pay attention to Umm Maktum. When Ibn Umm Maktum could not get an answer from the Prophet, he repeated his request a few times. Our Prophet did not heed him and pulled a face; he did not want to be interrupted and continued talking to them. He did not answer Ibn Umm Maktum so that the people there would not laugh sarcastically by saying, "Only weak, poor and blind people and slaves enter this religion." However, after a short time, divine warning was sent down when he finished talking and was about to get up: [  ibid, 4: 208  ]

“The (Prophet) frowned and turned away. Because there came to him the blind man (interrupting). But what could tell thee but that perchance he might Grow (in spiritual understanding)? Or that he might receive admonition, and the teaching might profit him? As to one who regards himself as self-sufficient, To him dost thou attend; Though it is no blame to thee if he grow not (in spiritual understanding). But as to him who came to thee striving earnestly, And with fear (in his heart) Of him wast thou unmindful. By no means (should it be so)! For it is indeed a Message of instruction.” [  Abasa, 1: 10.]

After this incident, the Prophet complimented Ibn Umm Maktum. Whenever he saw Umm Maktum, he said, "Hello my brother because of whom my Lord warned me!" Sometimes, he laid his cardigan on the ground, made Umm Maktum sit on it and asked him how he was. After that, he treated him like a member of his family. [  Tajrid Translation, 2: 580.  ]

Hz. Ibn Umm Maktum was among the first people who migrated to Madinah. He taught people the Quran because he arrived there earlier than others. When the Prophet arrived in Madinah settled there and built the mosque, he gave Umm Maktum the duty of being one of the muezzins, which was regarded as the highest honor.

The Prophet had three muezzins in Madinah: Bilal, Abu Mahzura and Ibn Umm Maktum. When Bilal was not there, Abu Mahzura called adhan; when he was not present, Ibn Umm Maktum called adhan.  Ibn Umm Maktum called adhan in Ramadan, telling people that the suhur ended. Therefore, the Prophet said, "Bilal calls adhan at night. Eat and drink until Ibn Umm Maktum calls adhan. "[  Bukhari, Adhan: 10.  ]

Hz. Ibn Umm Maktum came to the mosque in all prayers though his house was far away from the mosque and he was blind. Although the Prophet allowed him to perform prayers in his house, he said he would not leave the congregation so as not to miss the duty of calling adhan.

Hz. Umar often guided him when he went to the mosque and when he returned.

Hz. Ibn Umm Maktum was a hafiz of the Quran. He also memorized many hadiths he heard from the Prophet. He was a very pious man.

When jihad started after the Migration, all believers who could fight took part in battles. When verse 95 of the chapter of an-Nisa “Not equal are those Believers who sit (at home) and those who strive” was sent down, the Prophet told Zayd to bring a pencil and paper to write the verse. In the meantime, Hz. Ibn Umm Maktum was also there. He said to the Prophet, "O Messenger of Allah! I would fight if I could but I am blind." Hz. Zayd bin Thabit narrated what happened later as follows:

"Thereupon, Allah sent revelation to the Prophet. In the meantime, the thigh of the Prophet was on my thigh. The weight of the revelation pressed me so much that I was afraid that my knee would be crushed. Then, the traces of the revelation disappeared from the Messenger of Allah. Allah sent down the clause, ‘except those who are disabled (by injury or are blind or lame).’”[  Umdatul-Qari, 18: 185. ]

It was stated by this verse that jihad was not fard for the ones with excuses and disabilities. Despite this divine permission, Ibn Umm Maktum took part in some wars and frightened the enemy by shouting and yelling. However, the Prophet appointed him as his deputy and as the imam to lead the prayers in Madinah in many battles and expeditions.

Ibn Umm Maktum took part in the Battle of Qadisiyya, which took place during the caliphate of Hz. Umar. He had an armor on his back and a black flag in his hand. He was in a corner and encouraging the mujahids. He scared the enemy with his loud voice. When the war was over, Ibni Umm Maktum was among the martyrs. [  Isaba, 2: 523.  ]

May Allah be pleased with him!

#Allah #god #islam #quran #muslim #revert #revert islam #convert #convert islam #converthelp #reverthelp #revert help #revert help team #help #islam help #salah #dua #prayer #pray #reminder #religion #mohammad #muslimah #hijab #new muslim #new revert #new convert #how to convert to islam #convert to islam #welcome to islam

[ink-tank]

A visit to San Sibilia

Extract from the journal of Woolwich Lyons, cartographer of the International Peace Conference, March 1919.

3 March, 1919

In order to ensure that war never again despoils the continent of Europe or its diverse colonies, it has been agreed that the borders between all nation-states be fixed upon natural and objectively-established boundaries. While some are easy to establish with the stroke of a pen - the Rhine, the English Channel, the Danube - it is equally important to rationally demarcate the more difficult territories.

For that reason, as an official cartographer of the Peace Conference, I was despatched with a team of mountaineers and surveyors to delineate the border between France and Spain through the Pyrenees. For disputes over mineral rights and pasturage could be the spark that ignites some future war.

Unbelievably, the expedition has stumbled across a whole city not on my maps of the region - and not some forgotten and insular barony, but a thriving industrial town. Cresting the top of a deep valley revealed below long boulevards with civic and religious architecture as grand as that of Leopold’s Bruxelles, with a network of trams and funiculars delivering people to and from well-appointed and leafy suburbs, and electric street-lamps that shone in the gathering dusk. The road down was dusty and clearly rarely-trod, but an antique sign bore a name I did not recognise: San Sibilia.

The question of which side of the border this incredible city would fall struck me as immediately as the key question of our expedition - more important even than allocating the ruins of Andorra or the Quinto Real.

Finding accommodation for the night quickly became a political problem. The first hotel on the boulevard flew a French tricolor and seemed to serve only French cuisine created by a French chef. The second hotel flew the red and gold standard of Spain, and had signage only in the Spanish language. And the third flew the flag of the Basque people - even worse from the perspective of an official conference delegation.

As we wandered to and fro around the boulevards and avenues, our mixed group speaking English, French, and German attracted enough attention that the mayor of the town, accompanied by a squad of uniformed gendarmes, came out to meet us. Monsieur-Signor Gascon, the mayor, listened rather gravely as we explained our role and presented our credentials, and invited us to stay in his official residence - a very grand annex to the town’s domed, baroque city hall.

7 March, 1919

The work continues apace, with the surveyors out inspecting the geology of each side of the valley, and charting the routes of the various streams that flow into the valley to become the narrow, fast-flowing river that runs through the town.

But yesterday morning, Monsieur-Signor Gascon sadly informed us that our presence in the city has become a problem, disturbing the delicate peace between the diverse communities that he has long sought to keep. The population in recent days has started to understand that a border is being drawn, and they will soon find themselves on one or the other side of it.

In the Rhineland or the Low Countries, this might have come to violence. In the Balkans, it certainly would. But the first outbreak of contention in San Sibilia was that two art galleries on either side of the city hall held rival exhibitions of local art - one in the French style and one in the Spanish, with our whole expedition receiving gilt-edged invitations to both.

Believing it would be rude not to attend, I set out to attend both. The first, which opened around tea-time, featured pictures by Mme Melode Bassot of the surrounding landscapes and countryside in an impressionist style reminiscent of Calude Monet. As soon as I arrived, a flute of champagne was placed in my hand, and a string quartet played as the artist accompanied me through the exhibition. Even though I gave the art the highest compliments I could muster, Mme Bassot still seemed offended when I gave my apologies and headed across the street.

The exhibition by Sr Elias Monte was a more lively affair. As well as portraits and patriotic scenes painted in a style reminiscent of Francisco Goya, the guitar music, dancing, and prodigious quantities of summer wine and punch persuaded me to stay until well after midnight.

This morning, Monsieur-Signor Gascon was quite furious with me. By attending the exhibitions, he claimed that I had inflamed the intolerable and dangerous tensions within his city, and ordered the expedition to leave the city at once. Though very hung over, I tried explaining that we could not leave until our survey was complete, but he had the gendarmes remove us from the official residence, and deposited all of our luggage and equipment on the cobbles outside.

10 March, 1919

I had a nightmare last night. 

Though I had been used to sleeping under canvas during the expedition, after almost a week in the residence on a comfortable feather-mattress bed and surrounded by sweet beeswax candles, it was most uncomfortable on a windy verge on a road halfway up the valley. My dreaming mind must have recalled sleeping in a bivouac at the bottom of a trench in the French Rhineland.

In my dream, the whirr and sputter of distant biplanes and the rattle of guns was interrupted by a bugle – an order to ‘go over the top’. 

With my regiment, I clambered over the the lip of the trench, and found myself in a San Sibilia boulevard, lined with coils of razor-wire and overturned trams. When a machine-gun post in the flower gardens of city hall opened fire, I woke up in a cold sweat. Perhaps I even screamed.

11 March, 1919

After such an uncomfortable night, I took the decision that we must find a discrete lodging somewhere in the city. One of the stewards located boarding house on the edge of the city, a modest, slightly-ramshackle building in a vaguely alpine style, run by a stout middle-aged woman called Mme Estensoro. 

However, as the party would occupy all of her available rooms, she demanded payment in advance. She refused to accept both francs and pesetas, insisting she would only accept the city’s only peculiar local currency, the gold morabeti.

I rifled through my wallet as I unsuccessfully proffered lira, pounds, dollars, and marks – when a letter on brittle, brown paper fluttered down to the countertop.

She snatched the letter up immediately before I could stop her. It was the final letter sent to me by Sgt Lussier before his division was ordered ‘over the top’ at Strasbourg. This was the letter in which, understanding what was about to happen, he abandoned euphemism and declared his love.

I assumed that Mme Esensoro would put us back on the street, but she folded and handed back the letter, and finally accepted payment in pesetas.

12 March, 1919

To research the historical maps of the city, I visited the public library – a grand building in a style combining the baroque, the gothic, and the grutesco styles, with an interior of painted tiles and rough-hewn stone columns.

Taking a seat in a comfortable reading nook, I reviewed maps of the city that charted its development from a Roman mining settlement, a Visigothic barony, and various arcs of ruin and expansion through the medieval period, with Andalusian, Carthaginian and Occitan conquest at various periods. Even the dates given on these maps did not correspond with my understanding of history, suggesting that they represented a local mythology rather than a true record.

My eye was distracted by a procession of green lanterns moving past the library window. All along the street outside, people in tall pointed hoods marched, accompanied by a deep bass drum and shrill flutes, carrying lanterns with green-coloured glass. It reminded me of images I have seen of holy week in Seville and Cordova, yet Easter was still weeks away wasn’t it? And the float that formed the centrepiece of the procession showed Christ as I had never seen him – a crown of fresh blossoms not thorns, and a living tree rather than a crucifix. The effigy’s skin was like old bark, and its beard woven from fresh vines.

13 March, 1919

Last night’s festivities continued today, as the population streamed towards the theatre. I joined the throng moving towards this baroque, domed, circular building on the main boulevard. Within this crowd there was no enmity between different nationalities, with everyone mixing and mingling. The interior of the theatre was not as I had expected, with the walls built around what seemed to be an ancient Roman coliseum, lit by sunlight through a domed ceiling of stained glass. The polyglot crowd sat on the tiered stone steps. 

The show itself was a form of pantomime or passion-play, acting out scenes featuring the Green Christ. I could not understand the story of the theology on display, and the language was discordantly Germanic – perhaps an ancient Visigothic tongue? The crowd was enraptured.

14 March, 1919

Intrigued by this strange religious festival and by the unlikely history demonstrated by the library’s map collection, I snuck into the small archeological museum housed in an annex of the city hall.

The first room was full of Roman antiquities, mostly statues in various states of completeness. The city must have had two dominant religions during this classical period – the Mithraic mystery cult, with its hero-god depicted as a handsome young soldier, and the worship of the Great God Faunus, shown in his most feral and animalistic aspects.

While I inspected a display cases of detached Faunus phalluses in marble and gold, Monsieur-Signor Gascon cornered me, angrily asserting that he had seen my “sneaking” in here “like a damned thief” after my official exile. He took me by the elbow and dragged me off the civic property, making threats that he would call the gendarmes if he saw me here again.

17 March, 1919

The survey is complete. Among our group, we have decided that San Sibilia must fall on the Spanish side of the border, for reasons purely geographical and by reason of the position of the main watercourse through the valley.

As fascinating as this odd city is, I was glad to be on our way – there is more work to do further along the border. While the surveyors packed up their equipment and loaded the mules, I headed to the market to fetch provisions for the next leg of our journey.

While I rode the tram to the market, the skies grew black with dark clouds, and rain and hail started battering the windows. It was so severe that by the time I arrived at the market, the costermongers and stall-holders were almost all gone.

I returned with the few fresh herbs and root vegetables I could find, but the stewards said that the passes out of the valley would be uncrossable or too dangerous in this weather. We are stuck here for the meantime.

20 March, 1919

The rain continues to pour, with the streams and rivers full to the brim and flowing like torrents.

Very early this morning, Gustave Gilbert, a senior surveyor in the expedition, woke me with some furtive knocking on my bedroom door. He insisted in hushed tones that I should don my oilcloth and accompany him on a walk before breakfast. 

Somewhat perplexed, I agreed, and he walked me along the paved banks of the river, right up to the edge of town. We did not speak at all en route, but eventually we reached the thing he wanted to show me – an antique floodgate by a lake or reservoir fed by numerous streams.

Gustave explained that at some very antique period, the true course of the river had been diverted from its proper and natural course. This original channel was now reduced to little more than an irrigation ditch – but by sabotaging this floodgate, the river’s course could be restored.

This would also change the conclusions of our survey, placing the city into French rather than Spanish territory.

Gustave and I had both been enemies of Spain during the war. He argued that it was wrong that they should be rewarded for their belligerence with the gold mines and fertile valley of San Sibilia, and that we could change that only by opening this floodgate.

Together, we started to raise the floodgate, and almost as soon as the water began to surge below the gate, the swollen torrent burst through, destroying the gate as it swept through the city on its new – or, rather, proper – course.

21 March, 1919

The weather has finally cleared, and we are due to depart, with our conclusions reversed. But while we enjoyed a coffee on the terrace of our pension, Monsieur-Signor Gascon approached. Visibly upset, he informed us that a flood had burst the old irrigation channels, washing away fields of crops and some farmers houses, ruining the tannery district, and even causing subsidence that will ultimately destroy the art school.

He begged us to send word to nearby towns of any political colour to send food and aid.

I found it difficult to look him in the eye, consumed by guilt for what I had done. We agreed that while the stewards would take his appeal to the nearest towns, I would stay in San Sibilia and do what I can to help the rescue and rebuilding efforts.

22 March, 1919

Today, we found a waterlogged corpse in the flooded cellar of a farmhouse. A woman had been trapped beneath her own home as the waters rose.

It was a mistake for me to join the rescue party. As soon as the body was found, in their grief the local men and women turned on me for bringing bad fortune and curses from outside the city. To defuse the situation I fled, leaving them to their grief and anger.

25 March, 1919

The mayor of San Sibilia has been deposed. An isolationist tendency based on the parochial church council from the Cathedral of the Green Christ has seized control of the city. The anger at outsiders by the mourners at the funeral of the drowned woman was the catalyst for this political turmoil.

I have been placed under house arrest by Gendarmes, now in blue hoods rather than their civil uniforms, but undoubtedly the same men and women. The landlady Mme Estensoro was quite embarrassed by the behaviour of the police.

I was informed that I would be taken before an inquisitorial court, and provided with an advocate. He is a meek notary public who admitted that he did not understand the city’s new laws, but that the charges are of bringing ill luck, entering the city without permission, and angering the Christ of the Rains. He said that the punishments will be an arbitrary decision of the presiding inquisitor, but that penance and exile are the most likely penalties.

Fortunately, they have no evidence connecting me to the bursting of the floodgate. If they knew that, what would my punishment be then? Certainly exile would not suffice. Would they revive some Visigothic or Roman torture for me specifically?

Oh, but the inquisitor just arrived unexpectedly at my window. Through the eyeholes of his green hood, he saw me scribbling in this journal. If he takes it, then I am sure to be convicted! He raps on the door, shouting to demand entry!

https://jimmyshelter.itch.io/a-visit-to-san-sibilia

#Indie TTRPG #ttrpg #journalling #san sibilia

[bunndalton9]

Constance 23cm Archives

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[pattersonellison92]

Tips On How To Spot Real Vs Fake Chanel 2 Fifty Five Bag

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[giles26willadsen]

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[alvarezmarquez6]

Chanel Replicas

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[curran74waters]

replica birkin bag 23

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