#Oh great cows of the ether I have to stop thinking about it....
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WIP Wednesday
Thank you for the tag @dreadfutures! I really appreciate it! <3
Still working on the never-ending snippet (they’re chapters, really XD)! To be fair, this is a great exercise because it’s helping me utilize dialogue more! So, without further ado...
...The Anchor being a buzz kill. :3
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“Fane..”, Solas said, slightly breathless as Fane explored and showed the warmth of a balm.
“Hm,”, Fane hummed as he finally found Solas’ pulse, fluttering and skipping. He pulled away a bit, eyes hooded as he watched the beating patch. “You’re getting excited already. Dangerous, my sky. Very, very dangerous.”
Solas let out an airy laugh, turning in his embrace a bit to rest his side against Fane’s front. He had to adjust his hold a bit and take his hand holding the mage’s jaw away, but he kept his eyes on the butterfly before him. It was tempting to...well, snatch it from the air, but Fane kept himself in control, even as he felt the sky begin to lay kisses along his neck. They were as light as air and near reverent, but no less hot with their underlying heat. It was making his mind haze with a different kind of smoke this time.
“Ma’isenatha,” Solas murmured against where he was kissing, tender and sweet, but there was a note of...concern in its cadence? “...May I see your hand?”
What?
Fane blinked, the smoke clearing a bit. “Huh?”, he uttered in question, shifting his gaze away from the steadying butterfly to glistening orbs--lavender branching out from where the pupil was. Oh, he loved that hue. That hue, that very few saw…
Solas offered him a tiny smile. “Your hand.”, he repeated, a tentative touch appearing against an...oddly warm, blazingly warm, palm. Why was his hand so damn hot? It almost burned.
Fane drew his brows together, confused. “...My hand? Why do you--?”
Suddenly and before he could get the words out, the Anchor cracked within his palm--ancient magic still very much volatile from his earlier outburst. Fane hissed sharply. Damn it all! He forgot all about the Void-taken thing! Fuck! Just when he had been sure everything was as it should be again! Foolish! Foolish!
“Easy, vhenan,”, Solas soothed, one hand appearing upon his cheek and the other within his spasming hand. Within an instant, their fingers wound together, interlocking like a masterwork latch. “Breathe, and let us move from the floor. I can examine your hand better that way.” Blue orbs connected with his own, questioning and full of tender concern, even if they were a bit hard to make out from the suddenness of sharp daggers under his skin. “...Can you do that for me?”
Fane gritted his teeth at another pulse, growling deep in his chest, but he managed to jerkily nod. He could move, but by anything that was holy, he didn’t want to. The damned Anchor tended to skyrocket in its anger every time he jolted it, but...he could endure it. He could endure it if it meant it would just stop.
Solas gave him another reassuring smile, gingerly lifting himself off of where he was leaning against Fane’s front to stand. Fane nearly dragged the elf back down when another deep pulse of magic shot up his arm, but thankfully, not his head. It fucking burned like acid, however. The magic was less than it had been earlier, but it was still managing to seep from the slit and snake up his arm like ethereal vines.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,”, Fane cursed over and over, growling and snarling in the interim. “Fuuuck!”
He sucked in a deep breath and let it out shakily, trying to fight through the pain and nausea as he, none too gracefully, pushed himself off the floor with his free hand. To Fane’s surprise, the Anchor didn’t protest too awfully, only snapping against his wrist like a hand slapped another in reprimand. Still, it ached, burned, and screamed.
Solas’ hands appeared on him the moment he stood at full height, using both to lift the acid spewing hand up to his line of vision. Fane swallowed hard around pooling saliva and took in deep breaths through his nose as he let the mage work his magic.
He watched as a slender finger glided along the brightly glowing opening, testing, teasing the familiar magic out with a gentle blue glow. The tendrils came outwards, but then abated minimally, cowing at calming blue, but they still carried fury underneath--pulsing and crawling. Fane grimaced at the sensation, stifling a pained growl. It would never end unless he chopped his arm off, would it? Or, well, if Solas took it away. Sadly, his sky didn’t have the capability or power to do that yet. Fane would be both relieved and not relieved the day that he did. For various reasons. Reasons they also needed to discuss sometime, but not right now. Not when his fucking arm was feeling like it was getting pulled through a rift!
Solas gave him a tiny smile, glancing up from his work. “You are doing well, my dragon.”, he praised before concentration hardened features that held the shadows and dual glow of magic, eyes going back down to focus. “What do you feel right now? Describe the sensations for me.”
Fane took in another deep breath. “Uh, c-crawling. F-Feels like there’s worms under my skin. Worms that are--are on fire.”, he tried to explain as best he could, but those blazing worms were wriggling, writhing as Solas gingerly ushered more of his magic into the mark. “I-It keeps knocking against that f-fucking ward, too.”
Solas glanced up again, but didn’t halt his ministrations. “It has not pierced through, correct?”
Fane shook his head with a shaky sigh. “No, but that’s because I’m…” He gasped a bit, a hard pound slamming into the walls of his mind like a drum. “...fighting it.”
That seemed to be all Solas needed him to say, going back to his task with a furrowed brow and a determined look in his sky-line eyes.
Slowly but surely, the Anchor began to die down as the more Solas guided his magic to make the more volatile counterpart heel. The tendrils of sickly, but sparkling green abated, the ever present glow dimmed, and best of all, the pain ebbed away like a lazy wave. Fane sucked in a deep, deep breath as that reprieved was granted to him. He still felt nauseous as all got out, but the worms were dying down, the knock upon a locked door floating away as chaotic magic slithered back down his arm. He could honestly sob from relief. Truly, he could.
Solas let out a quiet sigh of his own, tired and relieved all in one, as his eyes met Fane’s own again and for good this time. They were speaking to him, asking a typical question and it filled Fane’s heart with tender affection.
Fane smiled tiredly. “Better. Thank you.”, he said. He was utterly exhausted, stomach tender and head aching duly, but the pain had stopped, the magic driven back to the hole it crawled out of.
Solas let out another relieved sigh at his words, a tired smile of his own appearing, cracking the mask of concentration, and giving his marked hand a gentle squeeze with the two still holding it.
“It’s nothing.”, the mage downplayed, shifting tender eyes down to gaze upon the Anchor forlornly. “I simply wish I could rid you of this burden, to wipe away this pain. If I had known it would be you who would somehow pick the orb up, I would have been--”
Fane sighed softly as he tapped the underneath of Solas’ chin with a few fingers of the hand he was holding. The elf blinked, steely orbs snapping up to him instantly and that only made Fane smirk more. How the sky heeded a dragon’s call. It should be the reverse, but this world continued to show how much it defied itself.
“Stop. Observe and accept. Observe what happened, and accept that it was beyond your control to predict. You will fix things, Solas. We will fix things.”, Fane assured as he leaned in to lay a light kiss against the mage’s lips. It was reciprocated with ease, a tiny hum escaping from his sky and it made him reluctant to pull back, but he did to murmur, “All of it will come in time, ma tarasyl. You know that. I know that. Be patient.”
Solas let out a chuckle. “Using my own words against me? Wisdom is a concept in you, I see.”, he teased.
Fane sneered a bit. “Cute.”, he replied dryly before shrugging. “I only used them because you used my own earlier, and I figured you’d be more amenable listening to yourself when in concern to what happened at the Conclave and whatnot. You do like to hear yourself talk, after all.”, he teased with a growing smirk. They were coming full circle now, and hopefully, his jokes would land more gently this time.
“Insufferable.”, Solas quipped with an exasperated sigh, but it was fond underneath, he knew. “Why do I--?”
Fane blinked as Solas suddenly froze up, face going blank and glittering eyes staring at him, but not registering. He furrowed his brow at that, pulling his head back a bit to get a better look at blue and grey. Now, that wasn’t normal. The hues were still bright, aware, blue with lavender branching from the middle, but Solas’ face and posture screamed, ‘disconnected’. Fane felt himself grow more worried at that. Had he fucked up again?
“Solas? Are you--?”
He went to ask after the man, thinking his joke had hit a nerve yet again, but a slender finger suddenly darted up to his lips, stilling them. It was telling him to wait, to be silent. Fane blinked. Well, at least the mage was responsive? Yes...a corner of a mouth was moving a bit, eyes were blinking slowly, and a…
...nose was twitching?
Before any more questions could be voiced or even thought up, Fane saw Solas’ face pinch a bit, nose screwing up before sucking in a slow, deep breath, and then…
“Achoo!”
We have it all in this story! Pain, sadness, Solas tears, Fane rage, fluff, cockblocking magic, and sniffles~ >:3 Watch this turn into a sick fic now. XD
Tagging forth (with love and potions to ward against sniffles!)
@oxygenforthewicked @noire-pandora @the-dreadful-canine @little-lightning-lavellan @aymayzing @dungeons-and-dragon-age @hoochieblues @whataboutbugs @1000generations @blueheaded @cartadwarfwithaheartofgold and anyone else who’d like to share! It’s Wednesday~! X3 (no pressure, of course! <3)
#my writing#wip wednesday#this is a never ending endeavor due to my difficulty of writing endings X'D#it's almost as bad as writing beginnings#but DIALOGUE abound! >:D#i'm just torturing solas in this aren't I?#first he wet then he cry then he SNEEZE#poor woof woof~ >:3#i love him i swear :3#i'm also torturing fane though so it's even~#oc: fane lavellan#solas#solavellan#male lavellan#dragon age#dragon age inquisition
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Please can you do P, R, L, B, D with Caleb? Forgive that there's so many. Thank you!
thank you for the request bby and so sorry it took so long to get out <3 yeehaw cowboy man :)
;;edit, pls no more fluffy alphabet request thank you :)
Fluffy Alphabet for The Deathslinger (Caleb Quinn)
Beauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?
Your hands. The ultimate identification markers of what makes a man, a man. Or well, human. The tools with which greatness can be created and love can be expressed. Caleb absolutely loves your hands and often asks to see them. He likes to have your hands in his in which he can appreciate the size difference between you two (his hands are long and gangly and are littered with a multitude of scars and blemishes). You watch as a smile dusts the corners of his mouth, his eyes downcast and solemn. He lifts your knuckles to his lips and he kisses you gently, the grey hairs of his mustache tickling your skin.
Hands are what defines a person. It is what made him smart and respected, he used his hands to create his redeemer and brought about justice to the less fortunate. His hands are rough and leathery, the products of suffering and hardship, but yours - oh, how sweet they were. He loves to hold them, loves to look at them, loves to have them slowly caress his body with passion and generosity.
Dreams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?
He imagines a small, lonely cabin lost high in the mountains of some faraway country place. The mountains on the horizon stand blue against an endless sky, horses and cows roam the grassy fields around and for miles, the land stretches into the untouched vastness. There is no one near, not a neighbor in sight - just you and him in this sort of ethereal, western dream.
Winter mornings are spent cuddled by a fire, drinking warm coffee with blankets wrapped around your intertwining bodies. And summers see the two of you riding to the local creek where you swim and frolic like love-sick yearlings. All Caleb has ever wanted was to be alone, to be content in his own identity, and to be free to live life as he wants to. Now with you by his side at this lonesome cabin on the doorstep of the great unknown, he feels that content and is comfortable to simply live and let wilderness flow through him and over his land.
Love Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?
Caleb is a great nihilist; stubborn and bitter to the point of being completely dis-likable. He knows he’s old, he knows he is trapped in a repeating loop where nothing will die and he will never be free and he knows that truly, nothing means anything in this world. He sits alone and drinks, trying to drown the part of him that yearns for meaning, for purpose, for justification of existence.
What Caleb also knows is that he has a liking for you. He knows that your presence doesn't drive him up the wall and that your soft conversations are the highlights of his day. he knows what he wants and he knows there's no point to pussy-foot around the subject. Caleb asks you straight out if you would be interested in becoming closer to him. He explains that he enjoys your private time together and that he would greatly appreciate it if you reciprocated his feelings. Of course, he doesn’t say it in so many words but you get the picture.
You’re surprised by his forward bluntness and Caleb realizes how sharp he sounds. He softens and moves closer to you, taking off his hat and setting it aside on a table nearby. He lowers his face and kisses the top of your head then he pulls you into him, his arms wrapped around your shoulders trying to drag you deeper into his embrace. It was selfish to hold you before you had even given him your answer but he could not help himself. You could feel the tall man shake slightly as he hugs you, the act being such a spontaneous event that it takes you a few seconds to realize its entirety. Eventually, you manage to slip into his arms and give over to his need for affection. ‘Of course’, you say without words, ‘I love you too.’
PDA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?
He would be very upfront about everything. He talks to any and everyone about you, endlessly bragging about what a lucky man he is to have roped such a pretty little thing such as you for himself. Often this gets him in the bad books of the other killers who couldn’t care less about whatever the crazy old cowboy was doing in his free time, but did their threats or disgruntled glares stop him? God no.
He is also very hands-on, slapping your ass at every chance he got and scolding anyone who dared so much as look at you. Someone walks past and offers you a kind wave, you hear Caleb tense his gun and growl. You elbow him in the ribs but he does not falter in his misdirected aggressive protectiveness, blazing daggers after the person then spitting hatefully onto the ground. Only he was allowed to give you goo-goo eyes and he’ll be damned if he lets anyone else so much as try.
Romance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?
He’s incredibly, unironically, and insufferably cheesy. Caleb was a hopeless romantic before the term was even created - if you looked it up on the dictionary you would find his name in the description. There was just something so wonderful to him about being in love and in being loved, whenever you would stand closer to him or when you would look at him with those mild, affectionate eyes that never dulled or aged, that made him soft and malleable on the inside. It was easy to give in to your fluff and forget, if only for a moment, that he was scarred by life and made to be a monster.
Caleb likes to get you gifts (preferably something he had handmade) and he loves to give you compliments especially when they borderline being suggestive.
#dbd imagines#dbd x reader#dbd the deathslinger#dbd the deathslinger x reader#dbd caleb quinn#dbd caleb quinn x reader
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find the word tag
Thanks for the tag @sleepyowlwrites
I finally have enough writing in my new rewrites of my stories to actually play this game!
true, next, play, find. BONUS: patience, protective
Next (Opportunities Multiply as they are Seized - A Dream SMP story)
Techno smiled a little as Amit and Kashal wandered in. Techno counted up the brothers, finding he had been doing this mental headcount a lot over the past 2 and a half years.
He sighed. “Any bets that Sumit slept through the bells again?” he asked, finding the third brother to be the one missing.
“Probably,” Amit sighed. “Though, to be fair, he did just get back from Hypixel today, and you know how far away that city is from here.”
Techno nodded. “Should we let him rest, then, and catch him up to speed after?”
“Nah,” a voice said from the stairs and Sumit came down. “I’m here. You can’t have a meetin’ without me, anyways. No one else is going to tell you that your ideas are stupid.”
Techno chuckled at that before turning to the others. “Alright, now that we’re all here, we need to go over the next parts of this grand scheme of ours.”
“Is there fightin’ in this part?” Preet asked, perking up a little.
“Probably.”
“YES!”
True (Here at the AHA Organization - A BNHA Fic)
The two came out into the East common room, the one with the best coffee pot, and Ms. Joke turned from where she was watching a true crime show on the TV.
“Shota!” She cried, jumping up. “You’re alive!”
“Barely.”
“Emi, I thought you were going to be searching for him too.”
“I was, but then I figured you were more likely to find him first.”
“So you started watching our show WITHOUT ME!?”
Emi laughed loudly. “Oh, Hizashi, you’re great.”
Aizawa ignored them and poured himself a mug of coffee, glad to find some already brewed.
“What are you guys watching about this time?” Aizawa asked, interrupting their argument as he took a sip of his coffee.
“Oh,” Hizashi said with a grin that Aizawa had to squint through. “It’s something about a muder at a cabin by a lake with this woman and these two guys-”
“I stopped caring, nevermind.”
Play (Of Magpies and Mages)
Keith was quite far out in the field. Aiden could see him wave, even from so far away, and Aiden waved back. Keith’s crow came out of nowhere, landing on Aiden’s shoulder and playfully pulling at his hair. Aiden laughed and reached up to stroke the bird. When Aiden reached Keith, the older man grinned. “Morning, sleepy head,” Keith said with a grin. “Took you long enough.”
Aiden scoffed as the crow took off from his shoulder and landed on Keith’s. “I wasn’t asleep for that long.”
“I’ve already finished with the cows! I think I would beg to differ.”
“It’s not my fault you go to bed at midnight and get up at 1 to bug the poor animals.”
Keith scoffed and pushed Aiden a little. “Better than sleeping in till noon.”
Aiden gasped, offended. “It’s nowhere near noon!”
Keith chuckled. “Near enough.”
Find (Plains, Ether, Hearth)
She reached over and picked up the pen. She put it very carefully on the desk on the other side of her. She went back to drawing. Ander reached for his pen to find it gone. He looked over and saw where Ril had put it.
“Ril, could you pass me my pen?”
Ril looked up and nodded with a smile. She muttered something as she passed him the pen and the two went back to work. When Ander put the pen down, she picked up the pen again and put it down in the exact position she put it in before.
Ander searched for it once again and looked over. He sighed slightly and said, “Ril, that’s where the pen will be in the future.”
“Yup!” Ril said brightly, drawing a man Ander had never seen before. He looked to be an Evai with wild hair and a scar on his dirty cheek.
“Can I have the pen back, then, since I need it now? When I’m done working you can put the pen there.”
“Oh,” Ril said, looking up from her drawing. “Sorry.”
Patience (Of Magpies and Mages)
Aiden waited too. Finally, with trembling hands and darting eyes he whispered, “What… do you think of Haphik?”
Riften sucked in a small breath. He hadn’t been expecting a question so close to his heart so soon. “He was the greatest man I’ve ever known. He was also the most patient.” Riften chuckled softly to himself, rubbing his thumb over the back of his other hand to soothe himself and his magic. “He Had to put up with me, afterall.”
“Was he your mentor?” Aiden asked, still hiding in the doorway.
Riften shook his head. “He was my best friend. We got the immortalities together. We trained together.”
“Then why?”
Protective (Plains, Ether, Hearth)
Speaking of which, he could tell it was still raining. He couldn’t see the entrance of the cave from where he was being protected, but he could hear it. He listened a bit harder as the couple nuzzled each other playfully. Rowan jumped when a thunderous roar echoed outside of the cave. The clicking in Spine’s chest started up again as she fretted to comfort him and Rain disappeared to give a displeased roar of his own. There was an apologetic burble from outside and Rain appeared again. Spine shifted to allow Rowan to lay down a bit more and Rowan found himself falling back asleep, full, warm, and protected.
Fight, lovingly, sip, cloth, and glass
Tagging @writingonesdreams @thethistlegirlwrites @writeblrfantasy @writingamongther0ses
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@adampage tumblr did a dumbass thing and messed up the read-more to where I couldn’t put it under one so I had to delete your ask and I’m making a separate post for this disaster of a ramble hoooo boy i hope you’re ready for what you’ve unleashed
adampage asked:
ma’am I know you’re high off your rocker but if you have time would you please critique hangman’s playlist for me bc I want to know your thoughts 🥰 anyway yeehaw
OH MY GOD yes???? yes I fucking WILL?????? let’s just pump the breaks on what i was doing right the fuck now, get his playlist in front of me (even though ive been listening to it nonstop and have so many things to ALREADY SAY) and talk about this shit. im sorry if this isn’t coherent im pry just gonna ramble. (edit to add now that I’m done: ITS FREAKING 3252 WORDS LONG LMAO OH MY GOD)
first and foremost. I Love It. let’s just slap that down. get that out of the way. ITS SO GOOD. SO FUCKING GOOD. also this is going under a readmore cause YEAH. it’s THAT LONG.
let’s start first with mr. adam ‘i taught graphic design when i was 20 and learned adobe illustrator and photoshop to design my own tshirts when i was an indie wrestler’ page’s cover image. wait. no. back up - look at the profile image he chose for his profile. it’s not a selfie. it’s not a picture he snapped with his camera. it’s a screenshot of the “has been drinking” moment on aew dynamite. what a lovable FOOL. he really saved that and put that as his profile pic im skjdfkjfd okay now swing back to the anxious millenial design with the signed hangman adam page for the cover. he designed that. I swear he did. I swear he did that. I could be wrong but I just feel it in my bones. that was him. also, THAT should have been the vintage shirt. cowboy shit is cute but ANXIOUS MILLENNIAL COWBOY? I NEED THAT AS THE SHIRT!
okay now let’s get into the songs. wait. before i go through it I do want to say something about the playlist overall.
I can’t decide if this is because he shares so many similarities to the character hangman adam page, but so many of these songs apply to his character like, this fucking playlist plays like a hangman adam page THE CHARACTER playlist. like this is the playlist i’d find on 8tracks back when that was the “thing” in fandom where every song makes me go “OMG THAT IS THAT CHARACTER” like. I don’t know if he did that purposefully as an extension of the character? or if it just happens to line up because of how similar he is and his story is to his character but SOME of these songs wooooo boy they get deep dont they? when you compare them to the character?
okay. songs.
so I know some of these, especially the classics, summertime of course, but for the ones I didn’t know I love them so much. they have such a vibe that just fits him, and they’re all so good???
rather low by nick shoulders is one I didn’t know and I fucking LOVE it. and look. it goes from Long Time Gone by the Dixie Chicks. Long Time Gone about being away from the country life, from home and if my THEORY is right about this playlist hitting the character, hangman is struggling with being lost, without a family. it goes from that to rather low, which talks about not being welcome at home. like “I told you once I told you twice, I’m steeped in verse and cursed in vice” ajdskjds GOOD lyrics. beat slaps. song slaps. I love it.
okay so we go roll on mississippi which is soft compared to the two upbeat songs that just hit us before. calms you down after that high energy beat rather low had. lets you breathe. AND it’s got a sad, soft, longing pull to it, falling in with more of those “lost” from home themes. “You're the childhood dream that I grew up on. Roll on Mississippi, carry me home. Now I can see I've been away too long.” UGH! and also, it’s just a good fucking song.
then we go to a song i haven’t heard and love, going places by aubrie sellers. it’s a little bit funkier, but still soft. also groovy as FUCK. and it obv talks about GOING places. so maybe the first three songs were about the home he’s left behind, but now it’s about where he’s going. and man this song just SLAPS.
A CLASSIC is next, 1970 something illegal smile by john prine. it has that classic soft croon, such a good country sound and it’s a little bit playful. it makes you wanna smile and sway back and forth. it’s a good song. fun. but it’s almost a little bit. dark? “ Won't you please tell the man I didn't kill anyone. No, I'm just tryin' to have me some fun. Well, I sat down in my closet with all my overalls, tryin' to get away from all the ears inside my walls. I dreamed the police heard everything I thought, what then?” it just makes me think of when his character “killed” joey ryan. I could be looking too far into it but, that’s what popped into my head.
OKAY NOW this next one. fuck yeah I DIG this song. I hadn’t heard this song and it quickly went into my liked songs. and if we’re following his character, the lyrics hit HARD. “ I've lost the will to try this worthless lullaby. Its melody won't fly me past oblivion. I bet it would be nice to find that paradise, a world of sparkling light beyond the setting sun. But I don't dream anymore” ugh !!!!!!! UGGGHH!! SO GOOD?? and even the slight upbeat to it. “would if I could but I don’t dream anymore” uuuuggghhh SO GOOD. love this song. one of my faves of the whole list for sure.
the next two back-to-back are CLASSICS and fit the hangman adam page character so damn perfect. i’ve even looked at lyrics from merle haggard’s i don’t want to sober up to night for adam in the past akjfdkjdsf it’s fucking perfect. and then followed by dwight yoakam’s honky tonk man?! amazing. we go from from fucking heart-wrenching lyrics if you think about them for him: “ I don't want to sober up tonight. I don't want to act like things are alright, and I don't want to change just to make you think I'm happy. That's my right, I don't want to sober up tonight. I want to keep my mind a little hazy. I don't care if all my friends think I'm crazy. The way I treat myself I might be a little crazy But that's alright, I don't want to sober up tonight. I'm here to drown another day of misery. I'm in here to spend one night without a mem'ry and the way I'm drinking now there won't be any memory. But it's alright, I don't want to sober up tonight” to HONKY TONK MAN. HONKY. TONK. MAN. “ Well I'm a honky tonk man and I can't seem to stop. I love to give the girls a whirl to the music of an old jukebox, but when my money's all gone, I'm on the telephone singing, hey hey mama can your daddy come home?” ajhsdjksdjkf like. look. partying hangman, drunk, swinging a girl around in the country bar???? cause he refused to sober up and just wanted to have fun? anyways regardless if there’s a connection or if im reaching, these are some good classics to pull out right here. honky tonk man will ALWAYS bring the party back up.
another song I didn’t know but now love? happy reunion by colter wall? this is a good freaking cowboy song??? and it’s a cute story???? about what a cowboy does during his day??? what the fuck? riding along the range with his dog, helping the cow, getting the calf back that’d gotten lost???? CUTE? anyways this is a vibin as HELL song and if it’d come out when I was still raising cows my ass woulda been blasting this shit as I drove to feed the herd for SURE. this song is a whole ass vibe and I’m digging it.
okay. walk through fire by yola? another i didn’t know (which - so far it seems all the songs that arent classics - spare dixie chicks - are from 2019) and I am obsessed with???? it’s so good? and fuck just such a good love song??? “Standing on the side of the river. Staring across the great divide. I'd give all my gold and silver just to get to the other side. Your love is like a rescue vessel, carries me through the night through these flames of destruction. I know you're gonna make it right. I know, I know you're gonna save my life.“ LIKE? HENLO????????? FUCK!!!! THATS SO GOOD. that whole song I could post all the lyrics tbh. and the way she CROONS it ugh. yeah. I love that song.
FUCKIN YES. DOLLY FUCKIN PARTON. youre not gonna make a country playlist and not include a dolly parton song boy i KNOW IT. and the song choice??? hm? remind you of a CERTAIN COWBOYS STRUGGLE WITH NOT HAVING A HOME???? “What difference does it make which way I go, got an empty feelin' down inside. Still I need to stay alive and who can tell what waits beyond this road. I'm a drifter” ajdfshjsd god I love dolly. and of COURSE he does too. i’m so pleased by this choice I can’t stop smiling. ugh. love this. love dolly.
sandpaper oneside, rubber other by the bobby tenderloin universe what do you know? another 2019 song I didn’t know and yet absolutely LOVE. I also am loving how he does a mix of classics with newer (but still almost classic-country sounding, maybe like. classic meets modern) country music in this playlist. AND WHAT A SONG. it’s so good? and again, just makes me think of the character. “there are two minds inside me. that’s one life too many. but i keep moving slow on both sides, strong as I can be.” tell me that doesnt make you think of hangman adam page. and it has such a... sad vibe. “i cant believe the things i am. as much a lion as a lamb” !!!!!!!!!!! ugh such a GOOD LINE. THAT SLAPS. LOVE THAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ugh this song. especially the back vocals of the woman that comes in later on? it’s like. ethereal. beautiful. fucking beautiful and almost haunting. paired with the sad lyrics? UGH. gorgeous.
long white line by sturgill simpson i do know and LOVE and it’s got a fun, uplifting cowboy beat following the more slow, sad croon of the last song. it’s SO COUNTRY. the way it’s sung? SO COUNTRY. and also ajdfskjsd adam. “I woke up my baby was gone without her I don't need no home” and “Gonna' push this rig 'til I push that girl out of my mind. If somebody wants to know what's become of this so and so tell em' I'm somewhere looking for the end of that long white line” kjdjkfdkjf this is just such a country song, and it fits SO well, especially after that previous pick.
now we go from two new songs to another classic. another (i think) 1970s country hit. lonesome, on’ry and mean is SUCH a classic country song. it has that good old sound, and the story it tells too. and just, I can’t stop thinking about hangman just “ Been driving these highways, been doing things my way. It's been making me lonesome on'ry and mean.” ajdskjflkf it’s fair to say that character IS lonesome, on’ry and mean right now. anyways, fun country song regardless and I DIG the addition.
okay back to a newer song and holy shit. this is my personal favorite of the new songs he introduced me to. this song I LOVE this song. fuuun FUN beat, makes me want to fucking GROOVE. I love love love this, and I love the way the singer sings? it just makes me wanna UGH. just wanna sway to it. the whine in the croon I just love. and the BEAT. the beat is so fucking good. and the lyrics? “I'm that wholesome Midwestern boy that you want to bring home to your mama. Even though I bring you joy, baby I'm not the toy you wanna play with at night. Too many things I've seen. Too many people and places I've been. I'm thinking about doing those things I shouldn't be doing. Something I've never done before. I want something to fuck me up. Need somebody to fuck me up. Everyone feels like it. Fuck me up, fuck me up, fuck me up” ajdsjkds I LOVE THIS SONG SO MUCH “Well I might go and get drunk and stoned 'cause it's better than being only crazy. If I ever come back, wherever I end up at is where I was supposed to be.” it’s so perfect for his character it drives me crazy. this is a song I’d listen to and first, groove to, and then be like THIS SONG IS HANGMAN. love this song. absolutely a favorite.
the next song though. the next song. fucking hangman adam page and his love of biscuits. southern biscuits by seasick steve oh. my. god. this BOY. THIS COUNTRY BOY. THIS BISCUIT LOVIN COUNTRY BOY. this is such a damn good addition. not only is it so fucking country, almost. spoken/sung? the soft hum with the fucking banjo??? and of COURSE of course he knows and loves this song I can’t with him. and it hits you with the: “ Southern biscuits, nothin' better in the world 'less they're made for you, by your southern girl.” and I go UWU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
two new songs so guess what? classic time. BALANCE. HE’S KEEPING BALANCE. I swear he’s done this purposefully and I could be crazy I could be giving him more credit than is due but I swear he’s picked the arrangement of songs too. because this is too coincidental. so, we’ve got our classic livin on the run by david allan coe. what a DARK song to go with. about a man who murders a woman and lives on the run (again, can’t help but think of the joey ryan murder thing, but hey. that’s just me grasping for straws) regardless if it ties or not, it’s a good classic and it’s fun to croon to even if its uh. dark but sung like. upbeat? almost???
okay, another classic and, to me, one of the sexiest songs on this playlist. I fucking love this song. it’s sexy with an underlying of dark. she literally seduces and knocks the guy out and robs him blind and he’s STILL craving her summer wine like. this song is SO GOOD. so fucking good. the way the music swells with the storytelling is beautiful. “Strawberries cherries and an angel's kiss in spring, my summer wine is really made from all these things. Take off your silver spurs and help me pass the time, and I will give to you summer wine” is just so ajkdfskjdfs ugh i love this song
and guess what? two classics so we’re swinging to a newer song. left turn on a red light by blackfoot. oof. I didn’t know this song and it hit me, it’s so good and I know im saying that about all of them but Honestly. “ Sun shines down on the desert, and it seems to make my life a haze, and I dream of my childhood sweetheart,and the freedom that I had in those days.” UGH. “ Will I always be a rambler? Will the ones I love always keep tellin' me, "You stare too long in the mirror, son, someday you'll be too blind to see.” HELLO???? those lyrics? SO GOOD. and again applying them to hangman just makes me FERAL SCREAM.
cowboys and hippies by cody jinks is such a hangman song it’s almost unreal. if I was going to REALLY reach I’d say it almost reminds me of the way the crowd pulls him back. “At some old honkytonk bar that I know by the smell, some old drunk on a barstool on a Merle Haggard tune. That's my kind of room. Raising hell with the hippies and the cowboys. They don't care about no trends, they don't care about songs that sell. Yeah, tomorrow I'll be gone, so tonight everybody just sing along, raising hell with the hippies and the cowboys” GOOD LYRICS. this has the same sad undertones too as a lot of these songs have too.
ugh. I love him sincerely for this next one. blue skies is one of my favorite songs, but blue skies by willie nelson? YES. my grandpa used to play willie nelson ALL THE TIME and I love this version. an uplifting song to follow the heavier songs. I’d like to think of a hangman who has the blue skies from now on. all of his blue days gone. this song is such a classic (cover) that just. good pick. I love this.
alright, so we’ve got a classic but he’s chosen the version from bojack horseman which makes me think that might’ve been the first time he heard it, but that’s neither here nor there. stars is a BEAUTIFUL song. and boy am I happy we had blue skies before this cause fuck. how sad? how emotional?????? “People lust for fame like athletes in a game, we break our collarbones and come up swinging, some of us are downed some of us are crowned, and some are lost and never found” fuck. fuck fuck fuck. and the last two lines, thinking about hangman? “So if you don't lose patience with my fumbling around, I'll come up singing for you, even when I'm down.” FUCK. my HEART. good pick but OUCH. good but ow.
summertime by orville peck is next BLESS finally an orville song I was gonna lose it on him if he put a playlist and DIDN’T include an orville song. interesting though he went with summertime, the newest, and not any of the ones off pony. but! it follows stars well. its soft, lull, and the lyrics are so hangman now that I put it in this context. “Catch 'em by surprise and chasin' the horizon, nothing holds me down. Askin', "Where the time's gone?" Dreamin' with the lights on, tryna keep your eyes on something along the rise" anyways I know YOU know this song well it’s so fucking good. has that same soft pull a lot of these songs have. the way that chorus swells though? the secondary vocals??? ugh. yeah this was a great choice, I’m glad he went with summertime. it fits the vibe of this playlist so well.
we’re ending on a song with such a country sound to it (i mean all of these do), a bit more upbeat, a bit more funky. “Some say I'm a wild man, drink too much nectar from the corn” and also “Oh the school, it wasn't for me. I earned my stripes a different way I learned to sing harmony and go play out on the stage” definitely makes me think of hangman for SURE. it’s a funky song to end on, and if you keep listening to the playlist on repeat like I do, it even falls into long time gone really well.
and of course this is assuming you’re meant to listen to them one after the other and not on shuffle. I’m sure it still works on shuffle but I LOVE the flow of this playlist listening to it one after the other.
love this whole playlist. and my identifying it with the character could TOTALLY be reaching, but of course I’m going to think of him and analyze his selection of *these* songs specifically to put out to all of us. out of EVERY song he likes. he didn’t include... hmm cowboy take me away, for example? shoulda been a cowboy??? the vibe of the overall playlist FITS “anxious millenial cowboy” it has an underbelly of sadness to it. and I dig the fuck out of that.
overall 10/10 I love this fucking playlist thank you goodnight
#hangman page#ashley answers#ashleys talking again#tw: weed#tw: alcohol#ANYWAYS what i'd said before is#if you read this whole thing i think im obligated to marry you#also. i forget to mention the title of some of the songs i talk about but it follows the list the whole way down#sorry how non-coherent it is i just. lose it.
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The Good Counselor Chapter 6
Seventy years have passed since Elysion was created, and Persephone’s efforts to conceive a child with Hades have been in vain. But a secret rite on Samothrace might bend the Fates and give them all that they have ever dreamed of, or pave a path of untold suffering.
* * *
The Good Counselor, Chapter 6
"What I'm trying to say," Demeter shouted after Persephone, "is that he's behaved quite differently since Eumolpus died. Usually he's here more often." She quickened her pace and muttered under her breath. "Too often..."
Persephone strode paces ahead of her mother through the ripened field, saying nothing. The autumn sundown winds whipped past them, rising off the sea and threatening rain. Demeter would rather be speaking about anything else. Any talk about Hades rankled Persephone, no matter how innocent Demeter's intentions. Sometimes it seemed as if her daughter was searching for any reason to find fault with her. She only wanted her to be happy, even if it meant happiness with the Lord of the Dead.
"You should at least ask him if he even looked into that matter about Orpheus."
"Before we created Elysion..." Persephone spun about. "We opened ourselves to each other, completely. We can each tell if the other is holding something back."
Demeter rolled her eyes.
"What?"
"Yes, I know. That's what the hieros gamos does, for fatessake. You think that Zeus and I didn't share that same sacred connection? That you're the only one who's ever felt what you feel?" She worried for Persephone. Her marriage was new, less than a century old, and she acted as if she and Hades had been together as long as Gaia and Ouranos.
"He's not lying to me if he doesn't tell me everything right away. Fates help me if we described every detail of our separate lives. We'd have time for little else."
"This isn't a meaningless detail, Persephone. Not after that... adventure you had in Alikarnassos at that harlot's suggestion—"
"Aphrodite is allowed to be wrong, sometimes. And stop calling her that."
"Of all the Olympians you could have befriended— and you shouldn't be companions of any of them, by the way— it still baffles me why she holds such a thrall over you."
"Because she is kind to me."
"Oh, kindness indeed..."
"Isn't that what you taught me to value?"
"When it's served on the back of hidden demands, it is hardly kindness. Besides, if that is how you measure your relationships with them, why do you shrink from meeting with Hera again?"
"I'm not talking about this with you again. If you'd been there, you'd agree with me. Hera and Amphitrite were lobbing me back and forth like an episkyros ball. It was disgusting! And Hera didn't seem very pleased with my company by the time I left. She turned... cold."
"And yet she's summoned for you to return. Twice." Demeter bristled. How she had been reduced to making a case for that horrible cow of a sister was beyond her. Nevermind that she had just been pleading for Persephone to seek out and speak with Hades! If the Demeter of a mere century past had been listening to her speak, she would think she was completely mad.
"I'm not going back."
"A wise decision."
"And not on your advice! I have nothing to say to anyone there."
"Except that Eastern whore."
"Enough, mother," Persephone said, drawing an asphodel up from the earth."Instead of letting her talk you into visiting any of her barbaric fertility cults, maybe you should summon your courage and demand Aidon—"
"I said enough!"
Demeter stumbled back as a great ring of fire swirled behind her daughter. Persephone stepped through and was gone. Demeter stood in her wake, a tangle of brambles and blackberries snagging and staining the edges of her skirts. She shook her head. "So dramatic..."
She walked slowly back to the Telesterion, her head held high, refusing to draw any more attention from the mortals. She knew that her daughter had been disappearing to secretive places over the years, and though Persephone swore up and down and even upon the Styx that she'd never done it, Demeter knew in her bones that she would slip away to her husband's chambers in the Underworld. Persephone could do it. Apart from all the gods, her daughter could visit any realm whenever it pleased her. Demeter knew she wouldn't be so rash in the middle of the harvest, though. She would be back at Hades's side within days, anyway. Persephone had doubtless retreated to the inner sanctuary of the Plutonion, already piling up with pomegranates, dates, and olive oil.
Fine, she thought. Let her sulk in her cult's shrine. It did nothing to change the facts. Aidoneus was being furtive. He usually came to Eleusis before harvest to see her daughter, and on the rare occasions that he had stayed long enough to run into Demeter he had been curt but cordial, and had enough respect for her to carry out any... marital relations... away from the Telesterion. She still choked on bile at the very idea.
Keryx stood at the gate, his grayed head bowed as he swung the doors of the Telesterion wide for Demeter to enter. She stopped. Something felt... off. She smelled irises and a vague undercurrent of sour milk. A woman cloaked in a fine weave of saffron colored linen stood at the foot of Metaneira and Celeus's sepulcher. Mortal petitioners at Demeter's altar across the room glanced this way and that, then quickly scurried away as Demeter stood by the door.
The woman turned, her eyes darkly lined, her lids dusted a bright turquoise. She pulled back her veil. "Good day to you, sister."
* * *
"That color looks horrible on you."
Demeter had turned all that was green and living to dust to regain her daughter. Her emotions had always run wild, and she couldn't disguise the disgust in her voice. Other goddesses were more refined, Hera thought, able to master their feelings and summon them when appropriate. The distance Demeter had put between herself and Olympus was showing. She wasn't who Hera had wished to see, but she would do for now. Besides, she rarely had the opportunity to catch Demeter Anesidora off guard.
"I agree." Hera smiled. A wave of blue swirled across her himation and overtook the yellow of her veil and peplos. "But it would have been vulgar to arrive with a train of peacocks in my wake, nay? When in Eleusis, do as the Eleusinians do, and all that. Even if that means covering myself in the colors of your glorified pasture grass..."
Demeter scowled, baring her teeth. "What in Tartarus are you doing here?"
The door burst open and Persephone padded through, her feet bare and caked with mud. "Mother, I need you to listen to—"
Persephone's eyes grew wide and she swallowed. She bowed her head and curtsied. "Your grace."
Hera smiled at her. "Oh come, this is your temple. If anyone should bow it is I."
Persephone cocked an eyebrow.
"I'm sorry for surprising you." Hera walked to her, passing Demeter without a sideways glance. "Is there anywhere we can speak alone?"
"Don't trouble yourselves on my account," Demeter gritted out, then disappeared through parted rows of conjured wheat sheaves into the ether.
Hera was silent for a moment, then turned again to Persephone. "Oh, dear. I wasn't interrupting anything, was I?"
"No," Persephone huffed. "Nothing that can't be sorted out later. If I might ask, though, what brings you to Eleusis?"
Hera demurred. Even though the girl before her was muddy almost up to her knees, and her hair was wind whipped like a mortal peasant, she still had all the bearing of a queen. Demeter's influence could never spoil that. "I had not heard from you, even after sending Hermes with two separate messages."
"Apologies," Persephone said. "From midsummer to harvest, I have little time to spare. Too much needs be done to ensure that the mortals survive winter."
"Of course, of course." Hera cast her eyes to the ground. "I only thought... perhaps you could have spared a minute for me."Persephone's mouth opened, toyed with words, but no sound came out.
Hera raised her hand. "And then I thought, it was no wonder you didn't want to visit me, after how abominably I treated you on our first meeting.
"She gave Persephone a sidelong glance, one that always worked to great effect when she needed a favor from Zeus. The Goddess of Spring softened. "Your grace—"
"Hera."
"Hera, I... don't know what to say. The ways of Olympus are not my ways, nor my husband's ways. It wasn't disappointment or hurt that kept me away, but realizing that I simply don't belong in... that company."
"Would it be too much for me to say that that is exactly why I need you? I went about it poorly. And I apologize. It would have been far better to meet with you alone instead of in a setting where Amphitrite is sure to bring out my worst."
"But why do you need me? There are plenty of goddesses in your retinue, you have countless allies and friends..."
"I have all the servants I could want. Endless sycophants. But none among them are my equal. No one I can speak with in confidence, and no one who would be willing to listen."
She scowled. "I do not wish to be your pet, Hera. Nor do I believe that you would find anything I have— or do— to be of much interest."
Hera hid her surprise, pulling her shoulders back. The girl was smarter than she— and most others— gave her credit for. And in this world of men, she knew the dangers of that asset all too well. "On the contrary. There are things that I could learn from you. There is much I could stand to learn from you, in truth."
Persephone sighed. "I can't imagine what. You have been Queen of all the Gods for aeons—"
"Please. We both know how it goes here, in the world above," said said, speaking lower. "We both know that I am nothing, in truth, but for the fact that I am married to Zeus and bear his children. There is little else."
"No," Persephone replied, frowning. "That's not true."
"Isn't it? Perhaps Amphitrite is right about me."
"You two are different women. It was, I must admit, uncomfortable watching that play out."
"I thought about that, too. I fought so hard against her words because in my heart of hearts, I know she's right. Perhaps I do have much to learn from you about reining in my husband."
Persephone's eyebrows rose. Hera thought for a moment that she had chosen the wrong words. Zeus was Persephone's father, after all. And she had displaced Persephone's own mother in his heart.The young goddess spoke. "If... you are hoping that... Aidoneus would somehow set an example for Zeus, then I'm afraid I cannot help you."
Hera smiled. "I don't expect to ever keep Zeus from his... wanderings. The Fates never had that in store for us. But... I would at least like to reclaim some standing with him."
"I'm not sure—"
"Please," she said, kneeling down. She picked a stray peacock feather from the floor. "Please, Persephone. As it is, I sit three steps below Zeus. Amphitrite mocks me for it, cruelly, but rightly so." She stood back up and wove the feather into her hair. "If we are to change anything in this world, I now see that it must start with me, the Goddess of Marriage."
Persephone tilted her head to the side and relaxed her stance, saying nothing."What you and your husband have done..." Hera looked around them, her palms upturned.
"This is my mother's temple," she said just above a whisper.
"Is it, though? No matter how she harries you or how tall her statues, the mortals come here for the new crop after the fallow. The promise of life after death. From you. And Hades. And the two of you, through your love and your realization of each other as equal halves of one whole, have achieved something greater than any of us before or since who took part in a hieros gamos. What you created changed the world as we know it. You made it better."
"That remains to be seen."
"But it has. You've given the mortals boundless hope. What is the number of offerings currently lying in the Plutonion?"
Persephone looked away, and fought to keep her hands at her sides. "Too many to count."
"The mortal world deserves to be better than what it is. For men and for women. I would like to see that come to pass above, by the same example you and your husband set below."
She could see the wheels turning in Persephone's head. The young goddess stood a bit taller, and Hera could tell she was formulating plans of her own.
"We should talk about this further. But I'm afraid my time this season has run its course. The autumn wheat harvest is tomorrow, and afterward—"
"Naturally." Hera smiled graciously. "I won't burden you. But when you leave Chthonia in the springtime, would you join me on Olympus when you are able, without Amphitrite, without servants or other wayward ears, and... perhaps then we can discuss this again."
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With the symbolism of Serena Joy and June almost mirroring each other, it almost seems like they’re building up to Serena doing something dramatic. I don’t know if I could see her killing Fred but writing about Gilead and publishing a book? Again I’m unsure but it seems the more realistic approach that would fit her character. We know that Atwood doesn’t approve of June’s plot armour and I don’t see Miller killing her off so I suppose he’d go for Fred or worst case scenario, Serena.
I wish...I just have zero faith in this show anymore tbh. I feel like maybe that was the point for a while. But they derailed it really weirdly, and I'm not certain how they could get it back ontrack? I don't feel like Serena will ever do anything dramatic anymore. They took great pains to show that Serena is a fucking moron who literally doesn't care about anything except babby have. GIMME BABBY. whole other world? nope! bye bye fred for baby! all for babby!Any self-awareness she was slowly developing and grappling with was just thrown out completely in S3. I don't think she gives a fuck about Gilead falling or not--unless it affects her personally. Like, she'll fight against Gilead only if she is made a direct victim of it in a way that she can't ignore (like she had for so long), aka being put of the Wall or something like having to be directly punished by them. Cos that's all she cared about before, until that last little bit of growth re: Nichole but then... blah. Who cares, right? The Writers: "If we develop and explore this character, it will be redeeming her! And we don't believe in redemption arcs for bad women! Only war criminal men!"I kinda... Atwood talks a big smack game but then wrote The Testaments which was pretty bullshit and everyone is alive and gets a ~happy ending (allegedly)??? Like, hello, Atwood, June needs some serious plot armour to get out alive and since the show is apparently following her lead with The Testaments we all know what to expect in the coming seasons. June, Luke, Nick, Nichole, Hannah etc etc are all going to survive blah blah blah. While Moira, Emily, Serena, etc all disappear into the ether. SO basically-- all the good characters are killed off/disappeared on THT and we get the June Show for another 3 seasons. Oh, with bonus Fred Manpain Hour, because of my conviction that Bruce Miller wants to suck Fiennes' dick. I see no other explanation for Fred's continued presence. But we all know my rants about Fred so no need to go there again.I am like a very dark cloud of mistrust when it comes to THT. I'm sorry, anon. I just... doubt THT will develop Serena in a good way at all. Dumb Evil Woman Bad and Make Man Evil too! Kill and torture Dumb Evil Woman all the years! Then just ignore all interesting, difficult, and complex women for Stereotypical Superhero American Bullshit Story. -_-Moira, Serena, Emily, and June have all be treated like shit by the producers and writing team. I see no reason why they'd stop this cash cow now.
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Time to be Saved!
I’m spending Christmas Eve with Hot Joseph. Block ‘hot joseph 2017′ to disregard this post.
Sorry. I meant to start this earlier but my super Polish grandma would have come back to haunt me if I didn’t make pierogies first.
ANYWAYS. Let’s do this! Stream-of-consciousness style.
Disclaimer: I’m sober and was raised Catholic so some saltiness might appear.
Oscar I hope you know I’m watching this for you. Ugh. I could be watching elf.
Ooh there’s a word crawl! Foreshadowing?
Zachariah is gettin the good word - you’re gonna be a daddy!
Oh shit he just ripped off his sacramental garb!
Now we’re in a field.
Mary, you aren’t allowed to have fun. TSK TSK
There he is! HOT JOSEPH EVERYBODY! Checkin out Mary as she walks by!
You know, Mary’s parents are not very nice.
I’m having CCD flashbacks. Help me hot Joseph.
Ohhhhhh he’s hammering.fjdjdn
Wait dudes on horses are interrupting his hammering.
Oh fuck someone didn’t pay their taxes.
Joseph looks concerned
They are taking women to pay for taxes, fuck these dudes! HIDE YO DAUGHTERS!!!
Hide, Mary!!!!
HOT JOSEPH PLEASE TELL ME YOU HAVE ENOUGH CASH!!!
he BOUGHT THE MULE HE GAVE IT TO MARY THIS IS TRUE LOVE. HOLY MOLY HOT JOSEPH YOU ARE THE BEST
The prophecy ain’t no myth. You’re all fucked.
Okay there is Persia, we’ve moved everyone.
Codebreakers! Where’s dan brown?!
THESE ARE THE WISE MEN
They are intense.
Oh back to Israel.
JOSEPH IS THERE WAITING.
Mary just got told she was betrothed and now she’s married
See what happens when you accept a dude’s mule?
He just got the no sex talk from Mary’s old man.
She isn’t hearing it, she left
HOT JOSEPH I’M SORRY
MARY what’s up you saw him right? With your own eyes?
You will love him Mary don’t worry.
Joseph is good AND strong. Mary isn’t so sure. She guesses he’s like 5′7 1/2 though which is towering back then.
There are creepy whispers...is that Gabriel?
Mary found favor Idk they are talking softly
More CCD flashbacks.
She just takes this ethereal strangers word for it ya know. What is she gonna tell Hot Joseph?
Mary wants to go see Zach and liz
Looks like things are crazy on the road. She didn’t even say bye to HJ - based on what I have seen he won’t be happy
Elizabeth knew! She knew Mary was preggo
Hey it’s Mikael’s mom from The Promise!
The wise men are still at it! Those rascals.
Mary’s asking the tough questions.
Baby Jesus is moving - Liz, you don’t even know
HOT JOSEPH IS MAD!! HE IS POUNDING THAT HAMMER. Oh shit he threw it down! Someone has a temper issue!
“Melchior, I don’t wanna go on a road trip!!!”- the other two wisemen
Labor ?
Looks terrible!
Well. That happened.
Hot Joseph is super awkward. You can tell he’s a total dork. But lovable. I love that curly hair too, ya know?
Uh oh Mary is headed home!
Bad things happened on that road, too. what is it with these roads, man? They look like Game of Thrones stopped by.
Men in power. *yawn*
This one guy looks like a Jonas brother
Wait you are tryin to tell me only 2 wisemen set out?
Ah there’s he is “you forgot the map.” They bicker like golden girls !!
HJ is so happy!!! Mary is back!!!
His eyes are HUGE, he’s seein’ her belly omg
She walked right past him too, didn’t say anything.
Joseph wanders off, stunned. Well...this marriage is going well
He’s crying! Wtf Mary! You could be a little nicer! You’re the one that agreed to carry the messiah all HJ wanted was a nice house with a sturdy ROOF.
He chose her bc he thought she had great virtue!
TEARY EYED HOT JOSEPH NOOOO
HE IS PROTECTING HER FROM TRIAL, no stones for Mary.
BUT HE AINT OK WITH IT YET
His anger is intense! He’s walking...walking...some dude tries to hand him the biggest rock
Who are they stoning omg...wait a minute
He is dreaming !!!! There’s Gabe.
He believes her!! Gabe told him in his dream to believe her.
Ugh I think hot Joseph doesn’t get enough credit.
Bad men are coming. There’s a census.
Nothing good happens when people start taking notes. Especially the government.
HJ has to go to Bethlehem, the land of his ancestors.
Boy she hit the jackpot, didn’t she, with him. He’s like Sure I’ll walk the whole way and lead this donkey and not eat.
HJ just made a funny! They are passing all the dbags who whisper about them all the time and he goes, “they are going to miss us.” 😂
HJ is gutting a fish and speaking softly. He wonders if he can teach Jesus anything...awww...hammering stuff probably
They got stopped and got searched cuz of paranoid king nutbag.
Some fortune teller just mentioned the kid wasn’t his, ouch. The look he gave her.
Are they sacrificing the cow? “Pass your sins to the animal.” Really?
Omfg the animal isn’t receiving your sins you coward. You still have them because you’re evil. I hate them.
Poor donkey I mean... everything has it rough. But this donkey has seen some things.
HJ gave a giant piece of bread to the missus and took only a nibble for himself.
He fed the donkey his share. Awwww he’s petting it and talking to it. “I’m the hungry one,” he says. You cheeky little carpenter.
OH NO THE DONKEY SAW A SNAKE AND KNOCKED MARY OFF INTO THE WATER!
HJ saves the day!
He is doing so well but he’s exhausted. She is gonna wash his feet while she talks to herself and the baby about how pure Joseph is.
(PS - oscar sleeping is adorable sidenote red alert)
For HOT AIR, HJ’s curly hair is on point!
Ahhhh Jerusalem. “It was meant to be a holy city.”
Some dude grabs their coin purse. No, literally.
“What belongs to us, stays with us.” Don’t try to rob them.
Now to Bethlehem.
“What was your gift?” Mary asks the shepherd. “Nothing,” he replies.
I feel, shepherd.
She is in labor ohhhhhhh joseph it’s go time!
THERES THAT SHINY STAR
IT WAS JUST THREE THINGS ALIGNING I GUESS
HJ IS DELIVERING THIS KID. HES IN IT TO WIN IT
MAD LAUGHTER - Joseph is at a breaking point
NAKED BABY BUTT cover it UP
OMG HJ HOLDING A BABY ughhhhhhhhhh it’s too much
HOT JOSEPH LOOKS SO VULNERABLE
THE WISEMEN COMETH
it’s linus’ speech!
HJ is too much. I stomped to this movie expecting to laugh a lot at bad filmmaking but dammit oscar I wasn’t expecting this I wasn’t EXPECTING TO CARE ABOUT JOSEPH THIS MUCH I’M ROOTING FOR HIM (more than mary????? lol)
here COMES THE NEIGHBORHOOD
mary’s face thru much of this film has been fairly stony. Is she even present in the moment? haha
HJ cannot believe their gifts - the gold is his fav but he’s feeling the myrrh too.
The wisecracking wise man is in shock. He was sassy this whole time, too.
Ya know, at least Mary didn’t have to be a single mom.
The wisemen are keeping the secret. Probably for the best, dudes. You heard the crazy people.
Man I forgot what psychos these people were (are???!!!!!) over power
HJ getting the heck out of there just in time. He has to have SO MANY BLISTERS.
They are fleeing to Egypt
Apparently I didn’t pay attention in CCD, and also that poor donkey. I havent seen any of them eat in days.
Man kudos to oscar for ALL OF THE ENDLESS WALKING
And it’s over.
Thank you Hot Joseph.
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dashed hope, lot #??? - 2016
“Dearest (---),
This is perhaps the first of many letters that I’m writing to you. It’s the Thursday after we went to the Panic! At the Disco concert. I have had the unfortunate experience of watching my life go by in an unfettered blur of color and emotion, so this time, I want to capture as much of it as I can.
Why am I doing this? you might be thinking. This is a bit too cheesy for me, or this is so cliché of a young lover to do. Well, let me tell you. There is too much in this world to be had, and therefore, much too much to be lost in the turning of Earth (shut up, it sounded good in my head). There are things I have told you, will tell you, might tell you, and will never tell you. This is because I have learned that time is sacred and fleeting, but none more so than our memories that fill it.
(Pretty much what I’m going to say is that I’m gonna write shit down so I won’t forget it.)
Let’s take it back to the beginning.
It all fell into place with an almost unconscious twitch of a thumb over your Tinder profile on my cracked phone screen. I remember it well: I was weeks away from graduating high school, sitting at the back of the muggiest, smelliest, most distinctly unpleasant school bus in a stupid Skyrim T-shirt. The second I tapped the heart, it began a huge chain of events that I in my short, uneventful life would never have predicted. I sent you a message and promptly forgot about you for a month and a half (by know you’d probably know this is typical of me). I even deleted the goddamn app after flimsy liaisons with high school friends, stupid teenage sexuality and heartbreak. It was on a whim I even got it back, and found you’d sent me another message. Another message, by Jehovah. To me. Maybe it was the old self-deprecation coming back, me thinking why would he message me? What is there so special about me that he messaged me back? Perhaps I read too much into it at the time; for all I knew you’d messaged me back on a whim as well. Needless to say, I was pleasantly surprised and terrified that my metaphorical fishing pole would go slack (oh, that’s so horrible and objectifying, but it sounded cool.)
Let’s take it forward.
Long story short, I had and extra ticket to Panic! and Weezer, lied to my father, and canceled with a friend about 30 minutes before she was due to pick me up when you texted me back. 30 seconds before I met you, I stood at the green Publix railing, overlooking the parking lot, hoping I looked edgy or cool or some shit staring into the sunlight, but in reality it blinded me momentarily to the point that I didn’t register you coming up to greet me for a few seconds. We were both uneasy, curious, definitely shy. To be honest, I always feel that tinge of nausea before meeting with someone and a thousand thoughts race through my mind at once, but this time it was replaced with a sense of…placidity (if that even is a word). You looked a little different from your picture, but I could tell it was you (I cannot tell you how much my friends freaked me out about catfishing, but that’s beside the point). You reminded me of my brother. Your eyes were soft behind your bulky glasses (I smile even thinking about it now), your hair was short in the strict marine cut, and you wore a Pac-Man T-shirt. A fucking Pac-Man T-shirt. Immediately I knew I could let myself be at ease around you. In fact, I think the first thing I said to you was “Just letting you know, I curse like a sailor” and you smiled and responded “I am a sailor.” I won’t deny that it made my heart leap a bit – finally, someone even my goddamn FATHER couldn’t find a problem with. By God, that smile. I’m probably going to repeat so much sappy shit about it later but right now I will tell you it is one of the most beautiful smiles I have ever seen and I want to see it again. It is by no means dazzling, nor ethereal, nor Hollywood (sorry), but it came so naturally and so softly that it reminded me of the feeling when a flower petal catches on the wind, drifts a bit, and gently touches down on an open palm. There’s really no words to describe it, but I can feel it. It’s not like my aunt’s flashing teeth and blazing eyes, nor a half-snarl half-grin my brother shows me. It was soft and welcoming and it drew me impossibly close and much too fast.
We drove in your friend’s truck to D.I. It was black and had an Illinois license plate and you shyly asked if I was more comfortable driving (I almost said yes. I would have killed us both). We made small talk along the way, nothing really important – what do you like to do, where are you from, that sort of small shit. We made an inappropriate joke about your friend Seaman Guzler (or Guzzler, I have no idea.) I wanted to reach out and touch you, but our knowledge of each other was so small and premature that I held back. I’d always been cautious with taking an instant liking to people, but goddamn, this was hard. I kept stealing glances at you the whole way, and I could see that you were too.
We arrived. No fanfare, just small talk about finding our seats. I stopped and asked to take a picture with you. I didn’t know whether I wanted to show it off to friends, keep it for myself, send to you – but it was a perfect picture. I’m looking at it as I write. Our eyes are similar in the way they close against the sunlight. Our teeth present themselves equally. In my eyes, we were happy to just be. Just be. Just be. Just be. I felt no nervousness, no driving need to impress you. You’re the kind of person that I felt I could be in a companionable silence with (but of course I felt awkward and tried to fill every waking minute with conversation). I just wanted to share. Share in our love for the band, for my hometown, even felt like sharing a bit of budding love for me (if that’s not too conceited). I started to like you.
The concert was a blur. Seeing friends, talking about ourselves, laughing at the emo teenagers in the front row, the uncomfortable parents with them, the thirtysomethings that came to feel eighteen again. I learned you played viola and my heart SOARED. I love music as if it were a secondary lover, and finally I had found someone who was the same (we were a bit too alike in some ways). I fell in love with my stand partner for the reason that we shared in a passion reserved for few. In fact, the night after the concert, I took my viola from its case after a month and played it again. It felt so good – almost as good as kissing you – but we’re not there yet.
We watched Brendon Urie steal our eyes, rumble beneath our fingertips, steal our breath. At one point I just completely let go and started dancing and I kept psychically wishing you’d join me. You did, hesitantly. You stood up, then after a while kind of bobbed your head, sneaking a glance at me every time I turned to look at you. Finally you let go just a little more, mouthing along, smiling, clapping, maybe cheering. I wanted to see you let down your hair a little bit (NO HAIR JOKES PLEASE NOW IS NOT THE TIME). Stupid thoughts flooded my mind – make sure he has a good time before he’s gone. Don’t let this one slip through your fingers. You’re going to fuck this up like you have every time. When Brendon said “Love whoever the fuck you want,” I leaned over, grabbed your shoulder and whooped and hollered with the crowd, and I felt your hand on my back. It was gentle. Solid. Warm. And it was over. The concert was over, my breath was gone, but you were still there and I became painfully aware of how I seemed in your eyes. My immediate fear was that I could not dazzle you in the way Brendon had, leave you wanting more and maybe to see me one more time. We talked about music again as Weezer set up. You told me about The 303, and I promised not to judge you for going to see Big Time Rush (I had no idea who they were – I just played along). We stayed for a few Weezer songs after Buddy Holly didn’t play. And then we left – this time, me following you up into the darkness of the stadium. We hit the merch stand – after I thought I lost my credit card you offered to get something for me – which I tried to deny. You bought a flag just as I found that card, and I was terrified of you showing me such a length of kindness that I ignored it and bought one for myself – I don’t know if I’m reading into this correctly, but I panicked.
We walked around the tiny strip mall, talking about everything. I learned you were from Denair, you tried cow tipping, you were bisexual, you picked almonds, we both love history, and farming and animals and pretty much a lot of things. You told me about your brothers, who I think you sent a not-so-flattering picture of me to. I worried about your sister for a bit with you, her being only sixteen and trying to take on the world. I realized I wasn’t much different. Maybe a bit older, but with the same thirst for wonder. We talked about so much that at one point I stopped and said “where are we even going?” and it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter as we got into the car and drove off into the darkness at which point you asked me, “Hey, are you a fan of Hamilton?” I knew then some gears somewhere began to turn with a great rusty clamor. We drove home, laughing and singing and cracking jokes, all coming much faster than they had before the sun set. I loved sitting there and joking with you as the lights of the highway flashed past us.
Hamilton was still playing when you pulled up into my driveway – I was afraid you’d let me out on the side of my yard and wave and drive off – but you pulled in, stopped, and looked at me. I remember thinking, this is where something happens that will determine whether you see him again. So I said, like an idiot, “I’d really like to see you again.” You said “me too,” and I leaned in and kissed your cheek and attempted to leave without showing the blush creeping up my cheeks but I had to look back at you. You said, so softly, so simply, “hey, come back here.” And I keep trying to play it out in slow motion, but I can’t. We leaned into each other, so perfectly and fluidly it was as if we’d done it a hundred thousand times before. I felt your lips on mine and they were so gentle and did not try to take over. We melded together. I felt no sparks of electricity, but a sudden warmth and a filling in my chest as we moved against each other’s lips while “Thomas Jefferson” filled the car, but I was momentarily deaf to everything. I opened my eyes a few times, and I thought you were beautiful as you were kissing me. I felt a barrier of some kind shatter into a hundred pieces and we touched each other. You caressed my face, I grasped the back of your neck – I think I dug my nails into you. Sorry, old sexy habits die hard – and your lips were so, so good. I’ve kissed many people in my life. Nothing had ever felt so fitted and lovely – yes, I felt their skin and breath, but never this swelling in my chest before. Even now as I think of it I feel it again and I shiver and I stop whatever I’m doing to look up and smile (I did it at work so much that people stopped to ask me if I was ok because I’d zone out for a few seconds). And there it was –like the concert, like your laughing, you left me wanting more. So much more. Maybe. We leaned our foreheads against each other in a moment so goddamn tender I felt it was too much, so much too soon, but you smiled and said, “Yep. You are awesome.”
I think I said, “I always ask myself what a guy like you sees in a dork like me, but now I think I have my answer.” I remember I kissed you once more as I swung my legs out of the truck and smiled coyly at you and said, “text, me, sailor,” and tried not to look back as I attempted to leave you with the same feeling you left me with. And your headlights did not fade out of my driveway until I went up to my bedroom. I waved, but I don’t think you saw. I wonder if you sat there, still feeling my lips on yours, mind whirling, skin tingling, attempting to process it all just as I did as the lights of your truck moved away and became no more than dots in the distance.
In other words, I think I like you.”
tl:dr, 18-year-old me was a fucking airhead with a dumb fucking crush and learned his first hard lesson that romance is shit and love at first sight is a fuckin Wal-Mart Ad for sad people
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Dearest Caitlin, it is with much excitement and deep pleasure that I offer you the role that was supposed to be written by May first if the original plan had been followed. A few bumps and delays on all sides later, Aerwynna Howell, is yours. I would have been convinced by nothing but the enchanting words of this application that you fully grasp her character and will develop her in exciting ways and develop relationships new and old, but it’s been a pleasure talking to you this past month since you showed interest. Get her on the dash asap!
OOC Information
NAME/ALIAS: Something relating to my gleeful destruction of the romantic relationships of my characters. Go wild, surprise me.
PREFERRED PRONOUN: Oh Great and Terrible Creature of Nightmares.
AGE: I DON’T KNOW ABOUT YOU, BUT I’M FEELING TWENTY TWOOOO.
TIMEZONE: What does it even fuckin matter my sleep schedule obeys no time zones
ACTIVITY LEVEL: I am trying REALLY HARD and lbr I’ll never be off Aerwynna once she is mine
HOW DID YOU FIND THE RP (NEW MEMBERS): Beth came to me in a dream and said ‘join this roleplay it will eat your free time and you’ll never escape’ and dream me replied ‘fuck it sure’ and here we are, over two years later.
Character Information
NAME OF THE CHARACTER: Aerwynna Howell
DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER IN YOUR OWN WORDS: You mean beyond the wailing noises of hysterical excitement I’ve been making over the last month while we’ve talked about her? UH. Okay. Well.
Aerwynna is the elegant, ethereal figure in the dreams of half of Mayte’s children, resting a cool palm to their foreheads to soothe fevers and counselling them on matters that range from heartbreak to their purpose in the world. She has been, for a long time, a surrogate mother to her home, a valued adviser and quiet comfort, always on the peripheral, constant in her presence but something that did not need to be acknowledged or appreciated openly. And that was fine. It was her role, carved out for herself, important in its own way and tailor made to pull on everything she excels at.
Deep down, however, she always knew that one day that would change; that it would stop being where she was meant to be, would stop being enough. She knew from the moment she clapped her eyes on the neat, dark haired little boy in church, who spouted poetry so easily and held fervent, then half-formed convictions deep in his lovely, dark eyes.
She is the gentle, comforting hand the Mayte’s need; a constant of home, come to reaffirm that their choices are right and to help talk through and soothe away doubts. But beyond that - beyond her role as the White Queen to Lawrence’s Black King, possibilities of a rekindled romantic relationship aside - this is what she wants for herself. This was her belief before it was hersandLawrence’s, is a mission she has had faith in from the beginning, even if she had no place on the front line at the beginning.
For what feels like the first time in her life, she’s not entirely certain what she should do, how she should handle a world she is entirely unfamiliar with; but she is more than determined, is destined to take control of this and help to guide this world as it falls apart and then recreates itself, and she will not show weakness.
ANY CHANGES YOU WISH TO MAKE?: God no she’s so perfect
TITLES: I’d like if she could take some kind of role assisting Neville in teaching Herbology/at least have clearance to pop into Hogwarts and tend to some of the trickier plants grown in the greenhouses. I know it would only make sense for after she’s been in Hogsmede for a while, but she would want to take any and all initiative to keep an eye on Nerissa.
RELATIONSHIPS:
Lucille
Though Lucille is…difficult, for Aerwynna, a lost child, too wild and unfocused, she feels an instinctive pull toward caring for her, seeing Propera in her wildness, and so much potential to be a lot more. She doesn’t judge her for leaving - as someone who never married, she cannot think poorly of someone who decided their marriage was not right for them and left to discover her true purpose - but in her absence got very close to her children, especially little Emmett, suddenly without a mother at such a young age. There is a little coldness in her, for the sake of the child and the gentle, loving hand he should have had to raise him but has now been denied; but more than that, she sees Lucille as another errant little sister in need of her advice and assistance. How long her patience lasts with her, however, remains to be seen.
Olivier
Aerwynna would never claim to have anything close to Lawrence’s nose for young ‘talent’; but when this young man walked into the potions shop on her second day in town, she felt an interest rise in her that has yet to fade, and promises great things. Beyond the instinct, the bone deep feeling that tells her he could be a valuable asset, she finds him pleasant and slightly amusing; and she has found herself quickly growing attached to the young man. She knows the stereotypes, knows this is expected of women her age with suddenly empty nests; but she honestly believes he is special, and wants to cultivate that as best she can.
Charlie
For Aerwynna, Charlie was never a project. He was, to start, the roguish, silly boy her darling little sister had cow eyes for; and then he was a young man with potential, with hidden depths and all one needed to really become important, to change lives and help shape the future. It was excitement that drove her to mention the young man to Lawrence, and she has yet to regret making such a decision, having no idea the ways in which Lawrence has driven Charlie from the fold; but even after he left Shani - the same way Lawrence left Aewynna herself, though without Shani knowing just what he was leaving to achieve - Aerwynna remains incredibly fond of him, and eager for him to be part of the Mayte’s work in the wizarding world.
FAMILY RELATIONSHIPS:
Lawrence
There are no words for what Lawrence is to her. He left because their paths were splitting - temporarily, of course - but Aerwynna never ceased to be his, and in her mind he never ceased to be hers. She doesn’t know if they will pick up where they left off when they meet again, can’t even know if it’s what she really wants; but he is, and always has been, it for her. There is no other. There never will be, as far as she is concerned.
Nerissa
Though Nerissa is her niece, and sister in the eyes of everyone in Mayte, she has always been Aerwynna’s baby. Motherhood came easy to her for all her sisters, but Nerissa was always different, always needed her more, and Aerwynna has never been able to help the way she gravitates toward the younger woman. Besides the cause, Nerissa is one of the main reasons she finally left Mayte. While all her sisters grew up and found lives for themselves, the youngest member of her family was out in the world, needing guidance and comfort; and Aerwynna knows better than anything just when and where she is needed. Nerissa needs her. Whether she likes it or not.
PARA SAMPLE
It’s 1am and I’m tired pls don’t make me.
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Lair Review for Cov
@cov-rising I’m sorry, I had to cut this one short because it is somehow now 6:30am and I need to start wrapping up to finish my shift!!
First Impressions:
Okay, wow. From your front page I thought I was going to be blasted to death by pinks and cuteness, but this is actually a pretty cool, relatively varied lair!! I like it!
Honey
Is this your Progen!? If it’s not, I basically hate you. Honey is GORGEOUS!! HOT DIGGETTY DAMN! Al those golds and yellows, absolute perfection!!I love the subtle greens in Sylvan Apparel and the Peace Dove! It blends in really nicely! And of course, matches the sprite perfectly!
I like that you’ve managed to keep the bulk of it within the yellow/gold range without making it look tacky or cluttered! Very, very well done! The accent compliments it all perfectly! LOVE IT!!!
Neria
Stop, STOP! What a perfect Mate for Honey! This is fantastic! The oranges and the golds with the contrast of the Midnight! The Candles match the midnight perfectly, I love it! I do feel like this one is not quite as perfectly balanced as Honey, but that kind of makes sense! If they’re both perfect then it would probably look more like twins!
Do you have any character or lore for these? Are they actually a pair or am I making incorrect assumptions? Also, the Reaper kind of makes it look like Neria is the more sinister of the pair, or maybe has a darker history, is this a correct impression?
Lucian
Lucian, stop. No. This is freaking amazing! The colours, the Iri/Shim/Thyla that actually WORKS! I don’t know if I’ve seen that before! That accent is freaking PERFECT! I feel like the Golden Wing Silks doesn’t match quite as perfectly as I’d like, but there’s definitely nothing wrong with it! I wonder what he’d look like with the matching Ember dress and then more exposed wings? IDK my lair is a freaking mess so wtf do I know?
Love the Mith familiar with him, too! The purples in it are dang spot on! And so much gorgeous art! LOOOOVE!!!! But gurl, even if you don’t write lore yourself – if you can spend that much commissioning art, COMISSION SOME DANG LORE – IT’S KILLING ME NOT KNOWING WHAT HE’S ABOUT! Get on that. My interest is now your No.1 priority, KTHXBAI
Atlas
“Atlas is a smart philosopher man with a beard and a bird” THAT IS THE BEST SENTENCE I HAVE EVER READ ON THIS DAMN SITE! 10/10 WOULD READ AGAIN!
Atlas looks PERFECT! He’s like this well-read, learned old kook who’s always got his nose in some book, tome or scroll. The Ethereal Ribbons really look like he’s gotten himself tangled up in some long, ancient scroll he was reading and just couldn’t be bothered untangling himself.
I get the impression he doesn’t even realise there’s a cat on his head, he’s just busy thinking about where he left that book he’d borrowed from some ancient library or temple that he seems to have misplaced.
But gurl, he is a philosopher with a beard, why is he covered in flower petals? Wouldn’t that piss him off? OR IS THAT PESKY BIRD GIVING HIM HELL!? IS THAT HOW HE GOT TANGLED IN THE SCROLL!?
Tea
Tea seems like she’d be the head of the clan…. But she’s not at the front – I always just assume that’s where the head goes.
So I have decided that Tea is not the leader, but is extremely up herself. Flaunting her golden spoils. Just look at the snobby way she’s got her head turned to get more light on her face, and that self-important smile.
JOKES ON YOU, TEA, THAT BIRD LOOKS LIKE IT’S ABOUT TO NEST IN YOUR PRECIOUS CROWN!! HA!
But seriously, I really love how nice and subtle this is. Tea has this almost oxymoronic shimmery, pastel look about her, I really dig it!
Essence
Um, excuse me, I’m pretty sure someone vomited pretty things on a gorgeous GenOne. IT’S A DOUBLE BLUSH, WHY IS IT COVERED IN LEAVES!!!
Okay, but seriously, I LOVE the colours, and Daisy Flowerfall, Crown and Peace Dove look absolutely FANTASTIC but I just wonder if the golds are a little too light against the Blush. Or is that something that changes once the gene-ing is finished?
Also, I just learned that a Pink-Tail Mole exists so thank you for that! It also looks fantastic with Essence’s colours! :)
Blossom
Why stop at 2 Flowerfalls? Why not get the Violet one going? While you’re at it – chuck some snowflakes and fire in there too! Screw it, grab those Festival Butterflies! Let’s just go all in here!
But seriously, dayum, you’re fond of the Flowerfalls, haha!
I actually really love Blossom! Especially the greens to compliment the Blush. 33KG HOLY FREAKING CRAP OKAY PUT ALL THE FLOWERFALLS, PUT EVERYTHING ON THIS OH MY GOD. JUST SELL EVERY OTHER DRAGON AND GIVE THIS EVERYTHING BECAUSE WOWEE THAT’S AN EXPENSIVE BABBY!
Were the Witch’s Cobwebs supposed to look like Moss? I hope so because that’s exactly what I see! Birds and moss and flowers floating in the breeze, little white butterflies resting on his limbs. Freaking gorgeous!
I don’t like the tail rings but I think that has more to do with the fact that I don’t like them in general! YOU MATCHED THE SPEEDY WITH HIM SO WELL! I LOVE THIS!!!
Bloom
Holy freaking cow. That is a lot of pretty things on one pretty, pretty Wildclaw! The Sylvan Wings and the Alchemist Tools work SO WELL together, holy crap! They compliment the Pistachio and the Spined Cobra SO MUCH!!!
I love the way the accent looks on the legs! I just wish there was some way to break up the green on the tail a bit? IDK
But uhm… I don’t mean to alarm you, but I think a tacky feather boa has somehow connected itself to this gorgeous masterpiece’s tail? :P
Honeysuckle
Okay, I actually really like the River Royalist Tail Rings on this one! Maybe I’m just extremely picky!! Honeysuckle looks absolutely fantastic!! Look how nicely the green highlights in butterfly work with the green in Spring’s Breath! The only thing that will forever shit me about Springs Breath is that green petal right on his thigh. WHY THIS, SPRING’S BREATH!?
I’m REALLY impressed by your Familiar matching skills, too, you got the yellows, golds and greens spot on! Also, your GenOnes in general are… decadent *Drools*
Dahlia
A dragon representations of the Tumblr Aesthetic
Allium
The Tumblr Aesthetic going through it’s SLIGHTLY edgy animal print phase
Hydrangea
Okay, so I like to make fun of girly things that I secretly love and that whole row are absolutely STUNNING but Hydrangea takes the damn cake!!! For one – way to nail Piebald! I haven’t seen Piebald properly utilized in a fairly long time so it’s really impressive how much you’ve nailed it! PLUS the wings of the fairies make it look like you’ve got Thylacine-like markings that actually spill into the secondary field and the tie the Skys in nicely! This is absolutely amazing!! I really love the tiny bits of gold from the Sky Blue Silks and the very discrete Clawtips! I didn’t even notice those till just now, THIS IS ACTUALLY PERFECTION, HOLY CRAP!!!!!!
Amity
Yet again, you’ve managed to match your familiar PERFECTLY! Amity is STUNNNNNNIIIINNNNNGGGG!!! What are your plans for the primary? I kind of hope you ditch the sylvan on it’s neck and chuck in another Piebald HINT HINT!!! But again, customisation is lovely AND I SEE YOU’RE BRANCHING OUT A LITTLE WITH YOUR DUAL FLOWERFALLS NOW!
I really love how discretely complimentary the Cobwebs are, and what a surprise it is when you finally notice the Tail Jewel, so many hidden little treasures here! I love it!
Laurel
Get out. You have no business here anymore. I’ma need you to just pack your things and exit this site, this is too much. You have too many amazing gems in here (that I’m sure you worked extremely hard for, but I’m still going to be ridiculously jealous!)
How GREAT does Oilslick look with the cream!? It’s perfect! Like, if the Tert was much darker than that, it might have come off a little too Pastel Goth and then seemed forced with the Antique Lace, but Oilslick Glimmer comes out just brown enough and with just enough highlight to perfectly compliment the antique and cream! LOOOOVE IT!
And once again you’ve matched the familiar freaking perfectly, even the Accent creates the ultimate perfect match!
Laurel is gorgeous to the point that I feel like you could make a real life porceline statue and people would display it in there homes or gardens loll.
OH AND YES, I SEE YOU SNEAKY ICE EYES BRINGING ALL THE BLUES IN.
You are a freaking ARTIST with these customisations, dayum!
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The Keeper of the Grove (Part 73)
Except for Yang and Taiyang, everyone was discharged from the Bastion’s hospital by noon, enough time for them to head back to Keeper’s Hollow, dress up in their formal attire (or patch-up Pyrrha’s armour, as it was already a ceremonial uniform), then head to the Tree of Life for the city-wide memorial service being held for all the victims of the Heralds’ attack last night.
Weiss had expected a solemn affair, and it was as one of Glynda’s secretaries went through the Fae’s funeral rites, speaking the names of the dead, pictures of them in life being projected on a giant holo-screen.
The weaver couple that had sacrificed themselves so she and Ruby could get away came up: Aziz and Jade Rourke.
Weiss found herself tearing up.
Ruby took her hand, she held on back tight as she tried her damndest to keep it in, if only from force of habit.
“Don’t hold your tears back,” Penny whispered from beside her. “Crying is a natural and healthy way to express grief, and suppressing it like this will only make it worse.”
“I’m sorry, I’ll try...” Weiss whispered back, voice trembling.
Eventually, the ceremony was over, and the assembled crowds dispersed to their own little groups, or to offer up mementos and keepsakes for the weavers. Laughter and friendly chatter slowly began to fill the air as family and friends reminisced on the fallen; touched, kissed, hugged, or watched the echoes of the deceased; or eagerly lined up for the food prepared for the occasion.
“This is how you mourn your dead?” Weiss asked, more confused than anything else.
Ruby nodded as she sat beside her. “Fae die in our territories all the time—whoever you are, it’s coming, whether you get killed and eaten by predators, or your body decides it’s finally time to just, you know, stop living!
“So when it does come, those that are still alive grieve and cry, talk about how much they miss them to feel better, then keep on living—and what better way to do that than with a party...?”
Weiss looked at the colourful decorations and flowers strewn all around, some reused from last night’s Eve celebrations before they got interrupted, most added that day to add cheer and life to the surroundings.
“It still feels wrong to me, though...” she muttered as she picked listlessly at her food.
Ruby smiled and shook her head. “You humans are just crazy, as always. You should be treating death a lot more like we do! Maybe start by making your Eve of the Ether parties less about spooky and scary things, and more about death and the dead, like we Fae do.”
“So is that how you celebrate Eve of the Ether? A giant party for the dead?”
Ruby nodded. “What better time than when you can see their echoes all around, whether you want to or not...?”
Weiss nodded, and started to eat; aside from figuring it’d be best to get used to Fae celebrations and traditions, she was hungry.
Eventually, the leftovers were wrapped up and given away, the decorations were taken down, and the attendees returned to their homes to grieve, or got back to work—the judge from the Job Gauntlet hadn’t been exaggerating when she said there was always something that needed doing in Fae territories.
Weiss and the others returned to Keeper’s Hollow, changing back into their normal clothes (or in Pyrrha’s case, wearing her new Fae-made clothes for the first time), removing the purely ornamental pieces of their Eve of the Ether costumes, and repairing the damage the clothes underneath had sustained last night.
<Good thing already armour,> Weiss said as she helped haul spare materials and supplies for Blake to fix their gear.
<Never thought happy be broke,> Blake said as she grabbed a bottle with a picture of a Fae cow on it. <Don’t know what happen if just for show.>
Weiss nodded her head gravely.
She stayed and watched as Blake began to pour the bottle’s contents onto her armour, the cuts, the bullets, and the magical burns all over it disappearing as she worked it into the leather until looked almost new.
<Always fix armour?> Weiss asked.
Blake nodded. <Older, more fights, better, stronger,> she said as she continued to repair it. <Helps if really well made in first place.>
<You made?>
Blake shook her head. <Mother made,> she said, pausing for a moment to feel the hand-stitched seams.
Weiss frowned. <She know?>
Blake shrugged. <Probably!> she paused. <Never called since got here.>
Weiss tried to figure out how to say it in Actaeon, her face straining visibly, before she gave up. “Call her,” she said as she put her hand on Blake’s shoulder. “You never know when you might not be able to anymore.”
Blake just turned her eyes to her armour, and continued working.
Weiss left for the barn, where Ruby, Penny, and Pyrrha were converting the stalls into temporary lodgings for Pyrrha, Yang and Taiyang when they got discharged, plus the extra parole watchers that had been permanently assigned there to help keep the Hollow secure.
“There!” Nora said as she slid a sheet curtain back and forth across the entrance of Pyrrha’s stall/room. “Now you can get complete privacy whenever you want to! Well, not actually complete privacy, considering the sides don’t reach all the way up, and anyone can just climb into the next one and peek in if they’re tall enough or have a ladder, but don’t worry:
“We Fae know how much you humans like your privacy! You can do anything in there and we won’t bother you! Not unless it’s illegal, anyway, but I don’t think you’re going to do anything illegal, are you...?”
Pyrrha shook her head. “Believe me: unlike what I did last night, I intend to be a completely law-abiding citizen of the Viridian Valley.”
Nora beamed. “Great! Oh, and before I forget: when I say we won’t bother you if you do anything that isn’t illegal, that also includes”--she made a sexy animal noise.
Pyrrha blinked, then her face began to burn red.
Nora winked and nudged at her. “So yeah, if you ever find a cute Fae you want to take back to your nest, go right on ahead, we won’t mind! Just don’t forget the lube—ever!”
Pyrrha burned even brighter. “I… uh… I...”
“Yeah...” Weiss said as she put a hand on her shoulder. “Get used to it—the Fae are pretty open about sex in general. And speaking of which: why the hell does EVERYONE keep reminding me of how important lube is?
“Can’t we just, oh, I don’t know, just take it slow and be careful...?”
“Actually, aside from the obvious function of helping reduce the chances of injury from excessive friction, Fae sexual lubrication also acts as a very cheap and easy means of preventing infection from bacteria, yeast, parasites, and so on,” Penny replied. “As you all know or have noticed, Fae do not bathe on a regular basis, and spend most of their time outdoors in constant contact with nature, and more often than not animals, be they living in the case of tenders, or dead in the case of watchers and food makers.
“Fae do frequently wash their hands and have numerous other means of disinfecting themselves if soap and water are unavailable, but as you humans might say, ‘It never hurts to be careful,’ especially when one or both parties have sharp claws meant to rip and tear into flesh.
“And finally, with humans like yourself and Pyrrha, inter-species intercourse is likely to cause all manner of injury sexual and physical, without or without lube, but particularly in the latter case; taking it slow and being careful is what you should always be doing time you are intimate, as once again, the human body was not designed to be able to even remotely keep up with what Fae are capable of.
“Especially when highly aroused.”
Weiss slowly nodded, her face red. “Okay, that was… very educational and thorough… Ruby, can we go talk outside?”
“Sure thing!” she said, before she walked away with Weiss.
Pyrrha’s face was now almost as red as her hair. “… I’ll just be… I’ll just be in my nest...” she muttered as she stepped into her stall, and shut the privacy curtain behind her.
“We’ll just be here moving in and not bothering you!” Nora cried.
Weiss and Ruby walked all the way to the training grounds without saying a word. Upon reaching her meditation/practice fountain, Weiss stuck her head under the waterfall, letting the cool water pour over her face until it no longer felt like it was melting.
“Okay...” she muttered as she siphoned the excess moisture with her gauntlet, the water forming into a bubble. “That was… something,” she said as she tossed the back into the fountain.
“Mhmm!” Ruby hummed. “So what did you want to talk about?”
Weiss sighed. “Well, before I made yet another ill-fated inquiry into the intricate details of Human/Fae intimacy and got much more information than I wanted…”
She frowned. “how are you feeling?” Weiss frowned. “Last night was pretty crazy, to say the least...”
“I’m feeling great, actually!” Ruby replied, smiling. “Yang and dad are finally coming home after all this time!” she frowned. “I mean, I still feel awful that all those people and folks got hurt or killed when the Heralds attacked, but, eh” --she shrugged--”not much we can do about that, except hunt them down, keep on living, and try and make sure nothing like this ever happens again...”
Weiss nodded. “I feel really stupid now, thinking us humans had a monopoly on violent rebellions against government… do you Fae get rebellions like this often?”
Ruby shook her head. “We don’t, actually; the seekers and the watchers root them out pretty quickly, and if they don’t, they tend to collapse when the members get impatient and give up, turn on each other, or they can’t get enough money or resources to really do anything.
“… And even then, they’ve never worked with humans before—not this openly, anyway, and not since the Valley was first made...”
Weiss blinked. “Humans helped make the Valley…?”
Ruby nodded. “We don’t really like it getting out… but yeah.”
“What happened?”
“Well, ideally, we’d have Uncle Qrow for this, but he’s over at the Roost with all the other senior watchers, so I guess you’ll have to make do with me,” Ruby said.
“I’ll be happy with some answers in general, Ruby, it’s fine,” Weiss replied.
They found a comfortable spot of ground to sit down on, and Ruby began the story.
“You know what happened when the First Settlers landed in Heartland, right?”
Weiss nodded. “They were all happy that Piper finally made good on her promise of a new home, they began to try and settle Avalon, then they found out that both the wildlife and plants everywhere were dangerous and potentially lethal.
“Am I going to learn that it wasn’t all just wild animals now…?”
Ruby shook her head. “Nope! Just all the critters you’d find in Heartland—before you humans started extincting them or crossbred them with your own animals, anyway. We Fae weren’t even there at the time, seeing as we couldn’t really travel long distances like humans do—let alone across realms—plus, we had everything we needed right where we were, so why would you?”
“Where were the Fae settled, 1,100 years ago?” Weiss aksed.
Ruby counted off with her fingers. “Sekhmet, Celestion, and the Cradle.”
“Haven’t heard of that last place before...”
Ruby smiled. “We like to keep it a secret—it’s where most of us Fae live. It’s kinda like… the Cradle is the Nexus where it all started, and the Valley is kinda like our version of Candela, where a lot of us ended up moving later!
“Anyway, back to the story: you humans went through, what did you call it again, a Black Age...?”
“The Second Dark Age,” Weiss replied. “When we found out we couldn’t repair or integrate any of the local materials to the technology we brought from the Old World, so we had to go back to horses for transportation, campfires for cooking, and candles for light...”
“Right, that! We thought you humans weren’t going the last the year, actually! We were all terrified by these weird, giant metal birds flying in from the sky and these weird creatures that were riding inside them.”
Ruby chuckled. “You should read some of the theories they made up at that time, it’s hilarious!
“We all relaxed when realized there weren’t a lot of you in general, you couldn’t really do much, and since we were on the other side of the Endless Sea, we figured we Fae would just stay where we were, and you humans would stay where you were...”
She frowned. “… But then you started expanding all over Heartland, learned how to siphon magic from the wellsprings, made all sorts of new magitech, and we started getting worried all over again—even more than when your aether-ships made landfall.”
“How did you Fae know, if you were so far away...?”
“The senior weavers could feel it. ‘Where once there was the Song, wild and free, there is now only a dull, toneless hum,’ they said. So we hid some seekers on your ships to find out what was going on, and the information that they managed to send back had us really worried.
“You know how we Fae like to develop technology, right?”
Weiss nodded. “Slow, steady, and sustainable—after the third Great War where Sekhmet went from a rain forest to the barren hellhole it is now.”
“Exactly. So you can understand why we were really, really scared of these new ‘soft-skins’ doing what we were doing way, way back, only faster, better, and whole lot more aggressive. We thought humans were some kind of walking plague, you know—spreading all over the place, tearing down forests, turning mountains hollow, dumping all kinds of nasty stuff everywhere…
“… And now here the humans were, starting to make it to the Cradle in your giant ships, complete with guns, explosives, and big-ass drills for reaching wellsprings—OUR wellsprings, in our cities, which we all needed to, you know, live.”
Ruby looked down. “The theories the made up that were a LOT less funny…”
Weiss frowned uneasily. “… I can imagine.”
“The Eldan Council then didn’t know what to do—you humans were the most alien thing we had ever known, someone from out of the realm, that we’d never seen before, couldn’t understand, like us in a lot of ways but different in so many others.
“We needed you humans gone from the Cradle, and the First Settlers were more inclined to shoot first than try to understand what the freaky animal humanoids were trying to say—and it’s hard to blame them, considering the Cradle is even more dangerous than Heartland!
“So we thought: why not sneak some of our makers into your society, help you figure out how to make what you had work better, than move onto new places when when you ran out? And it worked! You humans had your Neo-Renewsauce--”
Weiss chuckled. “Neo-Renaissance, you mean!”
“Yeah, that! You gave up on exploring the Cradle and went back home to Greatland, and we Fae could relax and not be wiped out by aliens. I guess it really helped that you humans were just finding out that Avalon really does not like it when you take too much and never give back.”
Weiss nodded.
Her books had explained it as “The unique, then-alien ecosystem of Avalon was far more sensitive and reactive than the First Settlers had thought, to the point where the ecological disasters were compared to the wrath of the of the Old World divine beings.”
“It sounded like your plan worked beautifully, what went wrong…?”
Ruby paused, and looked around. The hesitation was clear on her face, before she wrote a name down on some nearby dirt:
“Salem”
Then, she quickly erased it.
Weiss frowned. “Who’s Sa--!”
“Don’t say it! Don’t say her name...” Ruby muttered. “We’re already toeing the line by writing it down...”
Weiss had a brief flash to her experience with Talos, and nodded. “Okay... so who was she…?”
“She was a rogue weaver from way back when. She would have been the candidate for the new Archweaver—Elder Goodwitch’s title in Nivian, kinda—until something about her turned the Archon off, and she chose someone else.
“She was really pissed off about that—enough to give up with the Council entirely. But, she didn’t want to work under Eluna in Celestion, or rough it out in Sekhmet, so she gathered up lots of Fae like her, sailed across the Endless Sea, recruited some humans, and together, they all founded the Viridian Valley.”
“She was very quiet about it, and as you know, we Fae are really good at hiding—by the time the Council realized what had happened, they had already crossed the northern mountains into Acropolis, and were already building this place up.”
“Why Acropolis of all places? If I were looking to establish a new civilization from scratch, this isn’t exactly the location I’d choose for it!”
Ruby pointed to Weiss’ gauntlet. “Magic. Because there weren’t any plants or animals here back then, all the power from the wellsprings just stayed there—a LOT more than you could find anywhere else at the time, just waiting for someone—anyone—to tap it...”
“So what happened next?”
Ruby shrugged. “Lots of things! That’s why I said you’d want Uncle Qrow, because the original settlers did a lot more in a decade than you humans did in a 100 years, or we Fae could in a 1,000!
“The short version of it is: as soon as the humans and Fae started to realize they could do, well, anything, they started getting really high from the power—both figuratively and literally from all the raw magic that was going around everywhere.
“They wanted to leave the Acropolis, take over the Heartland, then go all the way back to the Cradle, then spread to the rest of Avalon; turns out that Salem never really got over being passed over for the Eldan Council, and the humans and Fae she brought here weren’t exactly very nice, either...”
Weiss sighed. “Let me guess: power-hungry, morally-bankrupt people like my father…?”
“Pretty much, yeah! They weren’t ALL like that—Gabija was one of them, after all, and everyone agrees she’s a hero, whichever split of Fae you come from—but what’s that saying about apples and rotten ones...?”
“’One bad apple spoils the bunch,’” Weiss said.
“Especially when the rotten apples make something like Soul Eaters...” Ruby said, nodding.
“Are they really that bad...?”
Ruby was about to answer, when her comm-crystal started flashing red. It automatically answered, and Qrow’s face appeared in front of her face.
In the background, it was pandemonium in the Watcher’s Roost, everyone scrambling to get ready, alarms blaring, Fae bent over the heat-map gesturing wildly and talking even more frantically.
“Ruby! We need you here at the Roost, ASAP! Weiss, you get to Abner’s lab!”
Ruby got up, alarmed. “Why, what’s going on?!”
“Well, it’s good news and bad news:
“Good news is: Weiss, your sister’s coming over to visit!”
Ruby paused. “Oh! That’s great!”
“Bad news is: we’re PRETTY sure she’s coming here to kill Ruby, then all of us Fae with her scary death lasers!”
Weiss face fell in horror. “Oh… that’s… not great!”
“Yeeep! We’ve got a plan, but you girls need to haul ass! We’ve only got a few hours till nightfall, and she’s leaving soon as the sun is down!”
They didn’t need to be told twice.
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For You I Call: Episode 1 Arachnids - PART 2 (2)
It's Monday! It's been a busy time in work lately, because it's close to financial year end in Japan, and everyone want to get the money report right (urk). Updates will be slower from time to time because I want to take my time to find inspiration and write good story. I don't want to publish something half-baked for my readers. Even so, forgive me if my best is still half-baked!
"...I know you’re strong, but I bet you can’t move as fast as her.”
I realize my mistake when I see a glint in Vert’s eyes as she flexes her well toned arms. Damn. How could I forget that this is the girl who can jump down three stories while carrying me with one hand? I shouldn’t have mentioned anything about physical prowess.
“Wanna find out?” Vert asks as she steps forward.
“Does that involve you hurting me?” I ask back, half-conscious of my own feet taking a step back.
Summary: After three years of hiding and recovering from a traumatic experience, Argent Cross' life finally starts heading for the better—only to have it turned upside down in one night. He wakes up ten years older, without a clear memory of what happened in between, in a warring country that sees him as their enemy's spawn.
Prologue
Episode 1: Arachnids Part 1 (Chapter 1 & 2, Chapter 3 & 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8)
Episode 1: Arachnids Part 2 (Chapter 1)
© 2015-Current Miss Red Bean All Rights Reserved
Previously:
“Are you fine with it?”
My question seems to catch Vert off guard.
“Me?”
“You seem to love this place. I’ll feel bad if you keep putting my needs over yours.”
Vert smiles wryly. “There’s no need for you to feel bad. I did what I did because I want to. But you’re right; I don’t want to leave before we actually live in here. Let’s see how it goes first. We can consider moving out if it’s not working for us.”
“That’s—“ another booming sound, “—a good idea,” I manage to say, but my eyes twitch and Vert notices it. She smirks.
“It seems like you need to get used to the sounds first. Don’t worry. It won’t take long,” she assures, patting my back with an abnormal amount of force. I just laugh along and say nothing.
I really hope we will be fine, living this close to two threats.
Episode 1 Arachnids - PART 2 (2)
In the end we never move out. We grow attached to the mansion and find living there unexpectedly fun and comfortable. Vert falls in love with the garden further as she tends it while the mansion’s wall and ceiling paintings capture my attention. Their damaged state bothers me and I start taking my brush to fix it whenever I’m idle or taking a rest from researching on how to go back home.
“You like painting?” Vert asks one day. She is taking a rest in the dining room where I am working on a mural depicting a princess, accompanied by her entourage of ladies in waiting, reaching out to pat a white pegasus. The colors are warm, like it was shined by invisible sunset, and they blend well with the rest of the dining room’s cream colored wallpaper.
“Yes, I did.”
Vert raises an eyebrow.
“You did?”
“I used to love painting, but due to some…incidents, I grow to fear it.”
“If you’re scared, then why are you painting now?”
My brush freezes in midair as I stop to consider the question for the first time.
“Maybe because I don’t have anything else to do. I’ve read or walked around the mansion and garden to fill time, but my hands are just itching for some activity.” I take a glance at the pegasus I am working on, noticing the color slightly getting over the line, and add with a sheepish smile, “I’m out of practice though.”
“But this is pretty good. How can you draw so well?” Vert asks enviously. That’s just asking me to tease her.
“It’s love, dear sister.”
Vert gives me the look.
“Okay, it’s mostly practice and a good teacher. My mother is a good painter and a superb make-up artist.”
“Make-up artist?” Vert blanches like it is the most disgusting profession ever. Figures this Vert would have an allergic reaction to anything feminine too.
“Not what you imagined. Besides beautifying, her make up is very useful in—” how do you explain movies to someone who’ve never seen TVs? “—epic theatre plays and such. She can make the young look old, transform someone plain to ethereally beautiful or disgustingly ugly, create fake wounds and burn marks that look so real that someone mistook it for a real wound, and the best: make an animal mask that looks so realistic even though she doesn’t use real animal skin or hair.”
By the end of my explanation, Vert looks at me with intrigue and wonder.
“That sounds amazing. Can you do the same? It will be useful if we have to hide next time.”
“Urk. Why didn’t I think about that?” I mumble.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing. Just berating myself. To answer your question, I know some basics, but not like my mother’s level because it involves some sculpting skills. If I try making a figure of this pegasus, it will end up like this.“
I show Vert my clay eraser, the one I fiddled with this morning. It looks like a balloon-shaped cow.
Vert pats me sympathetically on the shoulder.
“You better stick to drawing, brother.”
I shake my head. “No. I won’t give up.”
Vert gives me a look that she reserves for someone taking a futile quest and consoles me.
“It’s alright. Everyone has weaknesses. My real brother is a great dancer, but sucks at singing.”
Now that is something I can’t picture, because my body control is abysmal.
“Really? I bet he looks like a spinning duck when he dances.”
I don’t know how it started, but every time we talk about our real siblings, we turn it into a bragging competition. Now is no different.
“Of course not. He’s the best, even better than the court dancers. While you—“ Vert pokes my chest “—and your sister may be the spinning duck.”
“I am,” I admit right away. “But Ver is no spinning duck.”
I have started calling my real sister Ver to avoid confusion. It’s her nickname anyway, so it’s quite easy to switch.
The Vert in front of me raises an eyebrow in a challenging manner.
“Oh, why is that?”
“Because she’s no duck. She’s a graceful beast—tearing through the field like a cheetah, intercepting opponents like a bolt out of the blue, untouchable even when there are five people crowding around her. I know you’re strong, but I bet you can’t move as fast as her.”
I realize my mistake when I see a glint in Vert’s eyes as she flexes her well toned arms. Damn. How could I forget that this is the girl who can jump down three stories while carrying me with one hand? I shouldn’t have mentioned anything about physical prowess.
“Wanna find out?” Vert asks as she steps forward.
“Does that involve you hurting me?” I ask back, half-conscious of my own feet taking a step back.
Instead of answering, Vert shoots an arm to my face, and I reflexively bring my hands up to stop them.
Only to discover I am still holding my wall-paint palette.
Oh shi—
SMACK!
Vert’s hand hit the palette and both of us shout for different reasons.
“Damn it!”
“My palette!”
Vert’s hand is now covered with paint and my palette is now two palletes. It’s a disaster for both of us because Vert needs her hand clean for handling the herbs and while I only have one palette that I can hold comfortably for a long time.
“Why did you put that up?? My hand will smell like paint now!”
“Don’t blame me! You’re the one who attacked so suddenly! Besides, you better wash that fast. The smell will last for days if the paint stuck on your skin.”
Vert curses as she runs to the sink. I sigh and go looking for two clean rags. When I find them I dab one rag on the paint thinner and wet another with clean water. Then I approach Vert, who is scrubbing her hand furiously under the cold water.
“Come on, let me clean that up for you.”
Vert turns and shows her hands to me. I dilute the unwashed paint with the thinner soaked rag, then wipe it off with the water soaked rag. I work carefully, making sure there’s no paint left in nooks and crannies or under her nails. Then I move to her face, where some paint has splattered on her cheeks and nose. I can’t help but chuckle when I start dabbing rag on her face.
“What’s so funny?” Vert asks, half curious and half offended. She thinks I’m laughing at her situation.
“Nothing. It’s just…this kinds of reminds me of Ver. She always comes back home covered with mud, and she always forgot to clean up her face. I have to clean it up for her because she’ll plant that face on my sheets and pillows.”
Suddenly I was struck with homesickness. I want to see them. Mom, dad, Ver, Azure, Aureolin, Tenne, our neighbor grandpa Cor…even Illey. What are they doing right now? Illey I can guess easily. He must be happy that he finally got rid of me. But the rest…
I shake my head and focus on cleaning up the paint. There’s no merit thinking about it. I have no way of knowing and it does nothing to change my situation. Worse, it drives me crazy because once I start thinking, I’ll come back to that vague memory of Ver’s funeral.
“Don't you want to go back?”
My hands stop moving. So my feelings shows on my face, huh?
I resume dabbing her cheeks as I answer, “I still want to, but probably not as much as before.”
Vert gives me a questioning look, so I elaborate.
“I’ve thought about it long before you asked. I miss my family, friends, and even my bully a lot. I want to lay on my own bed, playing games my own sister watching beside me. I want to eat my mom and dad’s cooking. I want to hang around with my friends and go to school with them. I had it all planned, you know? Getting rid of my fear, live normally like before, and maybe make peace with my old friend—eventually.
“But I don’t remember what happened to me before waking up, except for flashes of my sister’s death. And the more I thought about it, the more scared I become. What happened after that? What if something even worse happened? I mean, whatever events that led me to be chased by military and forget about it must not be good, right?”
Vert laughs at that.
“What’s so funny?” I ask, offended that she’s laughing at my deepest concerns.
“I’m sorry. I just didn’t expect that you and I are actually in a similar situation.”
“Similar situation as in beside the fact that we are fugitives?”
“Yes, regarding our real siblings. I mentioned before that my brother was missing, right?” I nod. “You’re wondering if your real sister is really dead while I am wondering if he’s still alive or not. I find it funny that I didn’t notice this faster.”
“I see.”
She’s right. Why didn’t we notice it faster? Perhaps dad is right. Sometimes talking about your problems with other people can give us new perspective.
“In any case, I can see why you think it’s better to stay here and let forgotten memories stay forgotten. I wish I could do that too.”
Now that’s surprising. Vert is strong. Sure she looks sad sometimes, but what can be so bad that she want to forget it?
I start making guesses. I don’t think it’s about her brother, so it must be something else. It comes up easily enough.
“Do you want to forget your time as a soldier?” Vert never straight out said if she worked in the army as a soldier, but she left enough hints to deduce.
Vert closes her eyes to allow me cleaning her eyelids. “More than that. I want to forget I am a soldier. I can’t stop wondering if my friends are alright.”
Apprehension dawns upon me. I often catch Vert looking towards the nearby base when we can hear the sounds of battle. It must be torturing her conscience—her enjoying an easy life while her friends are betting their lives out there, close by, every day. If I were her I’d want to forget too.
“I’m sorry.”
Vert doesn’t disagree with me like usual. She keeps silent and still as I finish cleaning up her face. Gradually, a calm and peaceful atmosphere settles between us. Vert seems to enjoy the feeling of rags wiped on her face, eyes closed like a cat being groomed, while I find the simple task of cleaning surprisingly soothing. I can’t help but chuckle at the thought. Dad is right. It takes a little to be happy.
But how much longer can we enjoy this peace?
Others by MissRedBean
ORIGINAL - FOR YOU I CALL
Summary: After three years of hiding and recovering from a traumatic experience, Argent Cross' life finally starts heading for the better—only to have it turned upside down in one night. He wakes up ten years older, without a clear memory of what happened in between, in a warring country that sees him as their enemy's spawn.
Prologue
Episode 1: Arachnids Part 1 (Chapter 1 & 2, Chapter 3 & 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8)
Episode 1: Arachnids Part 2 (Chapter 1)
© 2015-Current Miss Red Bean All Rights Reserved
FANFIC - FUNDAMENTALS OF MUSCLE DRAWING
Summary: Keith and Lance were Altea Studio’s lead animators. However, they have one fatal flaw: the lack of proper anatomy knowledge. So Allura sent the two to learn under the great master, Shirogane Takashi. Keith and Lance went, grumbling and protesting, never knowing what awaited them in the humble looking art school.
[Oneshot] (https://missredbean.tumblr.com/post/156193783124/fanfic-fundamentals-of-muscle-drawing)
FANFIC: LORD ZARKON IS NEVER READY
Summary: Despite the peace in the universe, Zarkon is famous for his fighting prowess and readiness to face his opponents. But when it comes to Keith, he is never ready.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Holiday Special, Part 6, Part 7
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moominland chronicles 07 so fresh and so clean
Friday morning the sun creeps in between my spotted curtains, I stir, the light is golden and warming, I stretch, I start to feel my body slowly come alive, my little toes wiggle, my head soaked in my pillow begins to observe the feeling of the cotton on my skin, the smell of the bakery wafts through my open french doors. Something is wrong.
My head is trapped inside a bubble, its dense and thick, acrid, everything is muffled around me, the chattering blackbird sounds so far away, I am in a thicket of half baked silence.
This is fine, I just need to pop my ears, hold my nose, close my eyes, apply pressure.
No pop.
I’m moving my now open eyes from side to side, not sure what logic I’m following but it does nothing also.
Oh yes.
I spent 6 hours producing yesterday, barely a break, an effect was catching at the end of a clip and causing some aggressive feedback, like being hit in the head by a hammer, over and over again in my ears locating the culprit, you silly cow. I was home from dogged dreary work, body aching and fatigued in every pore, after yoga nearly falling asleep on the rug on my hallway, dragging myself up to go to the mental sweet shop that is ableton and apply all the new and exciting things I’ve learned not 2 days hence, become better, brighter, more effective.
But my ears were itchy, and I found some method on duck duck go to clean them with oil and water, I’d done it last week, there was a dull ringing after but I think that’d always been there. In a kind of unconscious stress laden half state, make them less itchy, clean them, hear better, brighter, crisper.
It’s all about being bright and sparkling and clean, no detritus.
I’ve not been out on the weekends and really let loose for weeks, there’s a swelling inside me combined from all the excess baggage and that dogged dreary awful work, in ceramic bathrooms with flaxen eyes rubbing mirrors at 6am.
Clean my ears, clean off the age of the firefox, it turns out it was a road that led nowhere.
Brighter, remove all the dirt.
No need for the last step with rubbing alcohol, it stung and its weird, I’m sure that was an error on the recipes part, my ears will dry naturally, I can just give them a little shake.
You silly cow.
When there is no alcohol or drugs to turn to what does the fatalistic human do, how can it self harm? It can attack its body.
We all need to party sometimes.
Flashing lights, heavy bass, swaying people, smoking areas filled with affected bodies, not for 10 minutes, not for an hour, like anything in life it’s only rewarding if you commit to it for a long duration, let it remove the barriers and trickle into the baggage, its acidic grip melting away the gloop between the crevices that makes a mountain out of a molehill.
Let the music shake up all the bits inside you, draw out all the ghosts, you can all dance together, then leave in a gaggle tired, heads leaning on each others shoulders.
Stick some cotton buds in there, the internet doesn’t agree but they’re wet and loosened by the oil, surely the liquid will just be absorbed by the bud and I will be so fresh and so clean, so so very fresh.
And so clean.
Back to the happy grind, EQing is a new world, my voice is razor sharp, I can hear each word, its like I’m dusting the track, clarity, sparkling, clean. Just another hour, just 30 minutes more, it needs concentrated energy, I’m so close, fiddle, knock my audio technica headphones gently, my pride and joy, my dearest purchase, my key to sonic islands untravelled before.
My party for one.
I met him at a party, I don’t even remember how we started talking, maybe I sat next to him, because I was sitting with him and his friends, he’s not coming back here anymore, I closed the door of my little yellow house to him, I closed all the doors I could, I’m to sporty for him now anyway, I wear turquoise cycling shorts and I talk about yoga.
They’re still not popping.
Skip forward to Wednesday, Tuesday, Maybe that detail isn’t important, Wednesday is my go to day anyway, so let it be Wednesday.
Walking home from a cleaning job on Wednesday along shaded tree lined avenues, cobbled ground beneath my feet, dizzy, still half deaf, still in a bubble, but my sight, my smell my sense of touch are all heightened, I’m not Mozart, I don’t know what partial hearing will do to this dream of mine to expand audibly. But hey, let’s make the most of this, the positive family clan mentality of EVERYTHING IS OK, if not sound then just stick to visuals, it’ll be a shame to never hear music again, but come what may. EVERYTHING IS OK.
What does a person previously dependent on alcohol to meet men and have adventures do when the well dries up?
How will she ever meet a man again?
Maybe it’s time to invest in a rabbit.
I’m getting really into looking after the plant my landlady left when she left last time, me and moon joke that he’s my new boyfriend.
And I’m walking through the corridors of Funkhaus, it opens out into a carpeted palm decked paradise, it’s like another world, palms are plants, I’m inside a fantasy, people are starting to get less droney, look more awake, more excitable, twinkle, I have to go home to go to work tomorrow, but I take the image of that room with me as I go. I take Cabaret Voltaire to bed with me, and the ascending heart I had shimmying to the soundwaves, that was a party I didn’t even have to apply for.
Maybe meeting men isn’t so important when you’re half deaf because you’re to busy straining to understand what the person is saying to you. My californian supervisor in the Great Court, was half deaf, on one side, my nephew is half deaf to, people live without the full spectrum of their senses everyday, we live in a state of closing our senses down, especially in the metropolis, because otherwise, like Buffy when she could read peoples minds, we will go mad eventually, immediately, imminently.
I can be a half deaf person I suppose.
But cleaning in silence is awful when its imposed, it’s just me and another bathroom, a dirty work surface, it’s just me and 2 privileged oh so cultivated young women in Kreuzberg, the bathroom like a white ceramic cave I’m tethered to, bits of lychee soap splattered everywhere, all over the walls, the bath, the shower, everywhere, on the floor, congealing in my mind.
So very fresh and clean, I can’t really hear her properly when she tells me what she wants me to do, everything, transform the house in 3 hours, 3 2 1 , duck duck go.
You have to take your time.
And not put steroid cream in your ears, that doesn’t work.
The old adage, a watched pot never boils, is a truth so often found in the folds of life, I stop watching my ears, I let go about the worry of whether I’ll ever meet a man again or if I can save enough money till March for that feted room.
My hearing starts to return.
Music briefly robbed from my life now reborn.
Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight!
For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.
Track 31. Now to Moon (needs to be completely stripped and all the elements tweaked)
Track 32 Divine Enshrine (needs more more more reverb on one vocal track)
Track 33 P P P Paradise (needs building, recording in my bathroom, molding like clay)
Track 34-38 will come, I let them go like a nitrous balloon, I know they will float in to the ether and return to me.
Just don’t put steroid cream in your ears, so fresh so clean - so stripped of everything.
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Black Girl Does Magic: It's Purpose
Daisy sat in the hushed library, stealing glances at Jordan who sat across from her. He was focused, his brow slightly furrowed as he scribbled on his parchment. It had been about a month since Daisy stood up to Monroe and began her friendship with Jordan. Through a surge of empowerment, she started speaking up more in class and continued to excel in her Independent Study with Professor Aphor. In addition, her friendship with Jordan had evolved from amicable hallway conversations, to lengthy study dates. Although Jordan never made a romantic move on Daisy, or hinted at anything other than friendship, she appreciated his company and thoughtful insight.
“What are you thinking?” Jordan whispered, snapping Daisy out of her introspection.
“What? Nothing,” she said, her face warming. She went back to her Advanced Potions book, desperate for a word to focus on.
He smiled and went back to his parchment. “You’re thinking about something, Daisy. I can tell,” he said without looking up.
“You cannot.”
He looked her, his deep brown eyes holding hers. He raised one eyebrow, making her breath stutter-step. He continued searching her face—there was nowhere for her to hide. She felt her face blaze in embarrassment as she fought to control her hair color. After what seemed like hours, Jordan nodded like he finally understood everything he needed to know about her, and then went back to his homework.
She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. He read her without the use of magic. Until now, that was something only her mother could do. He looked up again and smiled—his full lips spreading over perfectly white teeth.
“It’s okay. I won’t tell,” he whispered, giving her a flicker of a wink.
“Te-tell what,” she managed to choke out. He only shrugged, continuing to read. Her face was molten. She was sure her hair was bright pink. What did he see? What did he know about her that she hadn’t already shared with him? Part of her felt like he was teasing but his confidence gave her fright—maybe he did know something more. Maybe he knew she liked him and was desperate to feel his lips on hers. Maybe he knew she was worried that it was all a dream—that she’d wake up and discover they weren’t really friends at all. Or maybe he knew she was a Metamorphmagus and was upset she didn’t tell him. Her mind took off in thought; as much as she wanted to reel it back, she couldn’t. She felt exposed. Naked. An invisibility cloak couldn’t keep her from Jordan Johnson’s penetrating stare.
***
Daisy and Jordan walked to Gryffindor Tower in silence. The halls were quiet save for a soft whoosh of wind seeping through the stone walls. The flickering of candles cast an ethereal haze over the castle. Daisy wanted to pressure Jordan for more information about what he thought he knew about her, but she didn’t. She stayed quiet, too nervous to ask.
“Still in thought, huh,” Jordan said with a chuckle.
His laughter set her off—who did he think he was, making fun of her like that? “Whatever, Jordan. You don’t know anything about me,” she snapped, holding her books tight to her chest. He cast a quick glance down at her as her face tightened in defiance.
He laughed again, “You want to hide but I see you,” he said, stopping to face her. “I see you because you don’t want to be seen. You hide in the shadows, afraid someone’s going to notice how smart, beautiful, and talented you are. I see you because I want to. I want to know you; I pay attention because you’re worth knowing.”
Daisy was sure she had turned into a fine mist and blown away from the sheer power of his words. She never experienced this type of friendship before—this closeness…to a boy. She’d thought she had been close to Howard, but somehow this was different. She talked to Jordan about everything—she couldn’t help it. Like telling him she wanted to open her own Potions Shop, she’d just blurted out—she never felt compelled to share that part of herself with Howard. She and Jordan talked about school, family, and life after Hogwarts. He told her how he wanted to try out for a professional Quidditch team even though his father already had a position for him at the Ministry of Magic. She told him how much she adored Professor Aphor and how having a Black instructor changed everything for her. Jordan was right—she did want to hide, but somehow he made it easy for her not to.
“I don’t know what to say,” Daisy said after a moment.
“I know something else,” he said.
“What?”
“That you like me.”
“Of course I like you, Jordan. You’re my friend.”
“No, Daisy. That you like me as more than a friend,” he said. He took a step toward her, his gaze intent. She wanted to move but couldn’t—she felt like she had been hit with a Freezing Charm. He continued, softly, “I hope I’m not moving too fast. The last thing I want to do is scare you away; more than anything, I want you to know that I like you too…as more than a friend.” He was in her personal space, his eyes on hers. She felt safe. After a moment, she smiled; Jordan smiled back and grabbed her hand. It was warm to the touch, so large it enveloped hers. He gave her hand a soft squeeze, as his eyes slid over her face up to her topknot. He gave the briefest of pauses, a flicker of bewilderment—her hair had finally betrayed her.
She cast a downward gaze, “What color is it?” she asked, almost inaudibly.
“Bright pink.”
She refused to look at him as she slowly changed it back.
“Don’t,” he said, lifting her chin with his finger. “It’s brilliant. You’re brilliant.”
She beamed, freeing her emotions, not giving another thought to her hair. Jordan smiled and kissed the tip of her nose.
“A Metamorphmagus…,” he whispered, shaking his head with a smile. He squeezed her hand again as they resumed walking. “No more hiding. Okay?”
She held his hand tighter, allowing her head to rest on his arm. “Okay.”
***
“Settle down, please,” Professor Aphor said as everyone continued to clean up before being dismissed. “I have an announcement. Since all of you have shown exceptional growth this term, we will be having a Potions Tournament at the end of the month. It will be a process of elimination, starting with easy potions, moving to more advanced. The last man or woman standing from all of my classes, will receive 250 House Points and a trip to my Alma Mater, Uagadou School of Magic, where they’ll participate in the Mountains of the Moon Potions Tournament. I get the feeling some of you need to see a world beyond Europe,” she said with a smirk. “Make sure you sign up by the end of the week,” she added as the class buzzed with excitement.
“You have to win!” Emmy said, looking at Daisy. Daisy nodded as a ball of anxiety rolled around her stomach. She grabbed her books and started out.
“Miss Atwater, a word before you go,” Professor Aphor said over the classroom chatter. Daisy turned around and headed towards Professor Aphor who shimmered with excitement.
“So, what do you think?” she asked.
“Think about what?” Daisy said.
“About the tournament, Daisy.”
“I don’t know…I mean…” Daisy couldn’t find the words. Whatever confidence she’d recently acquired seemed to escape her. As much as she was proud of the work she was doing with Professor Aphor, she didn’t think she could beat Seventh Year Potions students, let alone travel to Africa and represent Hogwarts in an actual Potions tournament. Although the dungeon was lit as bright as Professor Aphor could get it, Daisy could feel the darkness beckoning her. The shadows that she spent so much time in were desperate for her return; it wasn’t as if she’d truly escaped anyway. Maybe one foot out—she could hold Jordan’s hand or answer a question in class, but she wasn’t really free. She could tell; the thought of letting her talent for Potions excel made her feel inadequate instead of empowered.
“What’s wrong?” Professor Aphor asked. “And please be honest.”
“I don’t think I can do it. I mean, I can try but I don’t think I can win…” Daisy’s voice trailed off.
“Why don’t you think you can win? Don’t you know how exceptional you are?”
Daisy didn’t respond. She knew Professor Aphor was going well above the call of duty to encourage her. She just couldn’t shake the feeling that this tournament was too much. The look in the professor’s eyes, even Emmy’s eyes for that matter—a look that expected her to win made Daisy want to crawl in bed and sleep for weeks. Professor Aphor let out a deep sigh.
“I can only do so much, dear,” she said after a long pause. “Only you can discover how brilliant you are. I encourage you to participate in the tournament but that’s all I can do...nothing more,” she said, softly. “You can go.” Daisy felt tears sting her eyes; she wanted to be brave, courageous—a true Gryffindor, but she couldn’t find the strength to do so.
Emerging from the dungeon stairs, Daisy ran into Emmy who looked panicked.
“Daisy! Hey!” Emmy said, way too loud.
Daisy frowned as she continued walking, “What’s wrong with you?”
“What?! Nothing,” she said, almost shrieking.
“You seem crazy,” Daisy said, almost grateful for the break of worrying about her own problems.
“Oh, ha ha. I had too much pumpkin juice, you know how I get. Sugar and all,” Emmy said, manic.
“What’s for lunch?”
“Are you hungry? You don’t look it. I have some snacks in my room—why don’t we go to the Common Room and I’ll get them,” Emmy said, trying to lead Daisy away from the Great Hall.
“Yes, I’m hungry, Emmy and I don’t want snacks, what’s wrong with—” but before Daisy could complete her thought, she saw Monroe and Howard walking hand-in-hand down the hall. Monroe giggled like a Third Year as Howard puffed out his chest. She kissed him on the cheek which led to them snogging for a full minute before she led him up the stairs and out of sight. Daisy felt like she had swallowed a handful of Puking Pastilles.
She looked at Emmy, who was on the verge of tears. “She’s a cow, Daisy. And he’s a…a…I don’t know what but they deserve each other. And, you have Jordan so who cares what they do,” she said, her voice cracking. Daisy felt dazed; although her brain told her feet to move, the message got lost in translation. She heard Monroe’s distinct giggle in the distance as her stomach grew a bezoar-size knot in her stomach. Emmy’s voice seemed to fade as Daisy’s brain finally moved her down the hall. She felt her tears melt into her cheeks as her pace increased to a run. She wanted—no, needed to be alone.
***
Daisy sat on the cool steps of a desolate, hidden stairwell and cried. She couldn’t stop the heaving, couldn’t stop the pain, the hurt, the rage. As much as she didn’t like Howard, seeing him with Monroe made her feel infinitesimal. Insignificant. Invisible. On top of that, as much as she wanted to make Professor Aphor proud and compete in the Potions Tournament, she just didn’t feel good enough. Smart enough. Like all of her hard work wouldn’t materialize when she needed it to—that she was occupying a space made for someone else. She took a deep ragged breath and cried. She succumbed to the darkness, reestablishing her place in the shadows. Although it felt uncomfortable—that she shouldn’t be there, that maybe she’d outgrown that place, she still felt at home.
Later, Daisy climbed through the portrait hole, her eyes swollen from crying. It was late. The Common Room was dark, dimly lit from a low fire. It took her a moment to realize Jordan had fallen asleep on the sofa—curled into a ball. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she knew he stayed up waiting for her. She eased in to watch him, standing near but not too close. His face was beautiful in the warm light—relaxed, peaceful. She felt guilty for him liking her—like she was an inconvenience. As much as she wanted to pull away from him, she found herself inching closer. After a moment, she thought better of reaching out to touch his face and turned around to tip out when—
“Daisy?”
Daisy stopped, closing her eyes in self-admonishment. Why didn’t she just go up to the girls’ dormitory when she walked in? She turned around and gave him a small smile. He let out a sigh and stood, walking to her with relief on his face.
“I was worried about you,” he said, moving in for a hug. Daisy took a step back, not wanting to be touched, especially by him.
“Jordan, I can’t,” she whispered. He didn’t say anything, just stood, looking at her. “Please stop looking at me like that.”
“What do you want me to do, Daisy? Walk away?”
“Yes…” she said, more to herself than him.
“Why?” he asked, his voice deep with disappointment, bordering on irritation. She didn’t answer for an extended pause.
“I just…I don’t feel like…” she couldn’t seem to find the words. How could she explain that she didn’t want her darkness to rub off on him? That she didn’t want him to become lost in the shadows?
“Tell me that you don’t like me. That our friendship means nothing to you. That you’re going to throw it away because you’re having a tough go of it,” he said, his words coming out faster with intent and concern.
“I can’t get out of this, Jordan,” she said, almost pleading. “I can’t break this. The darkness has me. I can’t escape…”
He took a step toward her, “I’m here, Daisy.”
“But I don’t want you to be,” she snapped. “You can’t save me, Jordan. I looked to Howard for that—to make me feel better, like I was important. All I ended up doing was losing myself in someone who didn’t see me.”
“I. See. You,” Jordan said, taking another step, closing the distance between them. “I’m not trying to rescue you, Daisy. You can’t lose yourself in me because I won’t let you; I don’t need that from you.”
Daisy shook her head in an attempt to make his words disappear.
“I need you to be you,” Jordan continued. “To see yourself. But like you said, you’re in the dark. Let me be the light so that you can see how magnificent you are,” he said, softly.
Daisy closed her eyes, fighting a wave of aggressive tears. Why was he doing this? This sort of attention made her uneasy; it pulled her out of her dark, safe space to a world that she was unable to control.
“Look at me, Daisy,” he said with calm authority.
She could feel her pulse in her ears; she slowly opened her eyes, locking them on his. The fire smoldered to the point that although she was looking at him, she could barely detect the details of his face. Jordan stepped into her space; she could feel the heat of his body as he reached one arm around her, resting his hand on the small of her back to bring her closer. Their bodies touched. She felt the energy in her body shift directions. She couldn’t define it but she knew something was different.
Jordan brandished his wand and whispered, “Lumos.” Suddenly they were bathed in light; it chased the darkness of insecurity away, leaving truth. She could see his eyes and as she clung to him, she felt like she could see herself—the way she should be seen: Strong. Empowered. Intelligent. Tenacious. Beautiful.
“Kiss me,” she whispered, boldly. And without hesitation, Jordan placed his lips on hers. She breathed him in as he tightened his grip around her. Their lips and tongues melded into a hot, passionate connection of recognition and assurance. She didn’t feel rescued by Jordan; she felt seen by him and rescued by herself.
***
Daisy walked into the Potions dungeon a few days later to find Professor Aphor standing over a small bubbling cauldron. She looked up out of concentration and locked eyes with Daisy, smiling broadly.
Daisy’s hair was released into an enormous, thick and curly pink Afro. Her robes were open to expose a unique take on her school uniform. Instead of a baggy sweater, tie, shirt and dark pants, Daisy wore a fitted, crisp white shirt, and V-neck sweater with a bow-tie in Gryffindor colors, a dark pencil length skirt that hit a her knee and cute Mary Jane heels. She stood in confidence, the room seemed to brighten with her in it.
“Miss Atwater…” Professor Aphor said, her grin even bigger. She opened her arms and instinctively, Daisy ran into them. She hugged Professor Aphor with all of her might with the professor returning the intensity.
“Thank you,” Daisy said as Professor Aphor slowly rocked Daisy back and forth, softly stroking her hair.
“My pleasure, dear girl. It’s been my absolute pleasure.” After a moment, they pulled away, both wiping away stray tears.
“You…” Daisy started, but couldn’t finish as she was choked up with emotional gratitude. Professor Aphor grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze. “You are everything,” she managed to get out. Professor Aphor smiled through her tears, unable to say much in return. “Thank you for seeing me. For taking me in. For encouraging me, teaching me, taking time with me. I mean, I know the term’s not over but…” she trailed off.
“I often wondered why I took the position here at Hogwarts,” Professor Aphor said. “I had a very good position in research but when Headmistress McGonagall contacted me, something told me I had to accept. Now I know why…it’s purpose. I’m supposed to be here for moments like this.”
Daisy smiled, and nodded. They sat in silence for a few moments, enjoying the purpose and significance of the moment. They heard a rustle, and looking at the door, they found Jordan standing, slightly embarrassed to have broken the moment. Daisy beamed as she motioned him in.
“Professor, this is Jordan Johnson,” Daisy said, almost giddy. Jordan and Professor Aphor shook hands, as she sized him up.
“So you’re Jordan,” she said. “Why aren’t you in my Potions class, young man?” Jordan gave a shy laugh, ever so slightly melting Daisy’s heart as she watched him fidget under the professor’s intent stare.
“I wasn’t good at it, ma’am. But believe me, when you arrived, I was upset that I had,” he said.
“It’s alright,” she said, with a cheeky smirk. “You make up for it by adding a positive presence to Daisy’s life.”
He nodded, slightly relieved. “I hope so. She’s special.”
“Yes she is,” Professor Aphor agreed. Daisy exploded with warmth at watching them together. There was a familiarity—kinship that she dwelled in as they all stood together. Although she loved her family in London, there was something special about creating a second one at Hogwarts.
“Oh, Professor, I forgot,” Daisy said.
“Yes, dear?”
“Is it too late to sign up for the Potions Tournament?”
“No, absolutely not,” Professor Aphor said, proudly.
“Good because I’m in the mood to travel—it’s time to see a world beyond Europe,” she said, confidently.
Daisy was different—evolved. She felt steady, fortified, strengthened. Although it took her some time, she finally saw herself—the bright shining Potions star with the world at her fingertips. She was confident in her ability to manifest a bright future; she was sure purpose would follow her everywhere she went because that what happens when a Black girl does magic.
The End
--
Chantell Monique was sorted into Gryffindor because the Sorting Hat felt that although she’d do well in Ravenclaw, Gryffindor would give her the courage she needed to embrace her creative gifts. Chantell Monique spends her time teaching English in the Midwest, along with contributing to Black Girl Nerds and Bitch Flicks. You can find her on Twitter @31PotterGirl.
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Lair review for raiikyuu!
@chillarch
First Impressions:
God damn, even your friends list is blue! SO MUCH BLUE, DAVE! SO MUCH BLUE! Wait… your profile is hella blue, but your lair is mismatched! I LOVE THAT!! I saw the profile and thought I was going to be punched in the face with Ice and white but dayum… I’m excited!!
Chi
Ohh dayum! Yes! Good, yes! This is goooood!!! I love me some Plague goodness! (No, YOU’RE BIAS, shut up!). I LOVE how well the Magician’s hat matches the Blood Peregrine! Sooo nice! My only qualm with Chi is that she’s a little bit cluttered. I like the lightness that the Autumn Breeze brings, and it matches the Halloween hatchdate (that’s in Autumn/Fall, right?) but I just feel like it doesn’t match overall. I love the Herb pouch, but the leaves hanging down really annoy me. Overall, though, if there’s no major character to be considered, I can dig it!! Also, did you make the banner at the bottom? It’s really cool!!
Oh wait, the green in the Herb Pouch and the Autumn Breeze do seem to tie it in nicely with the Deadland Disciple! I get it!
Yuki
Ohh, right… I get it! The goal is, pick a flight to represent and then just CHUCK ALL THE THINGS ON, RIGHT? IT’S AESTHETICS!
No, but actually I REALLY like Yuki! The Antlers and the Herb Pouch tie him in with Chi really well! Your dragons are all about de herbs ;) I feel you, friend ;). Alright, enough.
Yuki is a little bit cluttered but it really works with ice, It essentially works as icicles forming all over his body. He seems so regal and fancy, the eyes kind of work with that too, in this outfit they look kind of glazed over, like he’s too distracted by his own inflated sense of self importance, haha.
I like the pairing with the Cragward Custodian, especially compared to the Ice Sprite, this works waaay better! And that banner! Hecking YES!!!!
Cassiopeia
OH GOSH YES, THIS FUELS MY SOUL!!! You’ve matched the blues and purples PERFECTLY with the illusionist! And the pinkish hues (hues, is that the word?) in the Alchemist tools work really well as a focal piece of the whole outfit! I’m really digging it!
I love how the female Guardian turns their heads, because it looks like she’s actually annoyed with the Gloomwillow guide, like it sort of pesters her, following her around. The trail it leaves look like it just darted around in front of her and Cassiopeia is like “DO YOU HECKING MIND!?” and the guide is like “Shit! Sorry!” haha, maybe it’s just the red eyes which make her seem kind of pissed off?
I absolutely love this whole thing! My favourite so far!!! <3
Isaye
Is this a dragon or a big brown and green blob!? A COW THREW UP ON YORU SPIRAL, FRIEND!
But seriously, I really like how you’ve utilised the chocolate and ginger instead of the standard browns, and the Ethereal Flame cloak really compliments the Ivory well! It definitely looks like a big flowery bush, and I like how the horns from the Naturalist Adornments and the Witch’s Cobwebs tie her in with the other representatives!
Ooooh and the flowers on the Lace wristlet and the Herb pouch DO match really perfectly with the Sapling Speaker!! I see what you did there!! I think my only problem with this is the Leafy Glades… It’s just so big and puffy, which is the problem I have working with it I’d love it if they did a more subtle version for the next festival or something!
Cadell
Okay, I’m super bias because I HATE Orange. HATE IT! HATE, HATE, HATE! IT’S THE CHIA OF THE COLOUR WORLD!
I do like how you’ve used White/Obsidian instead of the orange/yellows you normally see! And love me some use of the Clawtips! I don’t see those as often as I wish I would!
The blue will forever annoy me, I hate that there’s blue in the Solar stuff, but it does add some variation to the piece which is nice! Overall, I like this! It’s cluttered but with the whole fire/lava thing going on, it really makes sense! The whole thing reminds me of flowing lava or like… a …. Foundry? Is that the word? Well, I guess that matches perfectly with the Molten Marauder!
I feel like I’m just repeating myself a bunch here, I’m sorry!
Sol
Ooooh yes, good! YES! The Obsidian/Gold thing is freaking AMAZING!
Fun fact though, at first I thought the solar blade behind her head was actually her head! I forgot how Wildclaws work and was like “Where are her eyes!?”. I thought she was bending her head down and wearing like a black feather headpiece or something. Anyway, I realised what a fool I am pretty quickly!
I really love this customisation! I especially love how discrete the Brutal Banner is underneath the Solar Blades and against the Obsidian! You’ve really matched the yellows and golds well! The only thing that shits me is the gold in Sunbeam Soldier is slightly different to the gold in the solar blades BUT THAT IS UNAVOIDABLE! Sol is freaking awesome and I love the name!!!
Astral
MY EYYYYESSS… MY EDGY, EDGY EYEEEESSSS!!!
But seriously, very cluttered, but overall very, very cute! The golds give her this sense of royalty but the Arcane elements of course give her the mystic feel! Again you’ve matched the purples nd pinks really nicely with the Stardust Scholar!!! <3
Letherii
Mmmmmm yes. Good… mmmm this is so perfect! The accent is so freaking perfect with the blues in the Skink! Hnnng, yes! I love that the accent covers most of the Violet as well, because the violet could have totally ruined the whole ensemble… but the little peeks where the wings fold over is absolute perfection!
THIS IS SO NICE BUT WHY DID YOU USE THE NATURE (I think?) EYES AND MAKE HIM SO PISSED OFF? WHY WOULD HE BE PISSED, HE LOOKS AMAZING!!!
Sabori
THIS IS SO FREAKING NICE!! I know he’s not properly gened yet, but holy heck, you’re really good at matching Skink highlights!! The Jade looks fantastic even without the Peregrine, but dayum, he’s going to look a-may-zing!!!! Sabori is so fantastic, I love him! This custom is absolutely PERFECT!!! <3 <3 <3
Beta
Mmmmm yes, this is perfection!!!! I know she’s going to be a gened Bogsneak, but she looks great as a Tundra!! I loooooove the Magic Cards against the Seafoam, and it’s going to look hecking AMAZING with the Glimmer! My only issue with this is the Pale Roundhorn, but I’m not a huge fan of how they look on Tundras so it will probably look hecking gorgeous on her as a Bog!!
Monsoon
Mmmmm this is beautiful!! You’ve matched the familiar perfectly yet again, and heck the Brambles look fantastic with the Saphire!!!!! He’s going to look SO GREAT gened up! I’m so excited to see how the finished product looks!!!
MoldyBurito
OH MY GOD, I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS! THIS IS THE MOST FANTASTIC THING I’VE EVER SEEN! THAT PHOTO! AHAHAAHAHA! THIS IS ACTUALLY AN AMAZING CUSTOM BUT I CAN’T STOP LAUGHING ABOUT IT!!!
[Sorry it tapers off at the end, I started to caffeine crash lol)
#chillarch#Flight rising lair reviews#flightrisinglairreviews#fr lair reviews#raiikyuu#1210 words :O
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