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astrolovecosmos · 4 months

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The Planets & Random or Obscure Associations

~Sun~

Creativity, vitality, head of state, the father, games, yellow and orange clothing, articles of value, jewelry, gold, brass, power, diamonds, citrine, topaz, jasper, amber, rhodochrosite, mistletoe, almonds, citrus, succulents, sunflowers, fevers, heart, back, spine, grapes, walnuts, rice, chamomile, frankincense, juniper, saffron, marigold, rosemary, rue, palaces, towers, luxury.

~Moon~

Eternal, cycles, silver, aluminum, pearls, moonstone, opal, selenite, chest, glands, lymphatic system, nervous system, emotions, mother, ancestors, nurture, rebirth, tides, baths, ocean, brew, boat, sap, willow trees, succulents, pale color plants, white flowers, cucumber, cabbage, lettuce, melons, shellfish, pumpkins, lakes, fountains, ports, fishponds, pools, springs, sewers, dairies, toys, reflection, blankets, objects of comfort.

~Mercury~

Communication, journal, pen/pencil, any writing tools, wings, phosphorous, mercury, agate, tiger's eye, brain, nervous system, eyes, respiration, thyroid, speech, hearing, intellect, vehicles, money, bills, paper, books, pictures, parties or social gatherings, scientific instruments, butterflies, messages, mail, hazel, mulberry, myrtle, seeds, aniseed, dill, fennel, lavender, liquorice, marjoram, parsley, valerian, hazelnuts, beans, mushrooms, pomegranates, carrots, celery, libraries, schools, markets, fairs, public spaces, tennis or badminton court, studies, banks, bowling greens, offices, blue, white, or light colored flowers.

~Venus~

Love, relating, lust, high-quality fabrics, copper, bronze, sodium, malachite, tourmaline, emerald, rose quartz, kunzite, sapphire, pastels, throat, kidneys, lumber region, art, music, aesthetics, social life, fashion, jewelry, wine, pleasure, alder tree, fruit trees, paint, ash tree, birch, pomegranates, early flowering, daisy, mint, marshmallow, meadowsweet, mugwort, plantain, tansy, roses, thyme, vervain, yarrow, potatoes, strawberries, wheat, sugar, nectarines, ballrooms, bedrooms, dining room, gardens, fountains, wardrobes, theaters, looking and feeling good.

~Mars~

Lust, conquest, desire, flaming sword, red things, fights, iron, brass, bloodstone, carnelian, cinnabar, pyrite, magnetite, ruby, garnet, hematite, muscles, reproductive organs, blood, kidneys, immunity, heat, action, arms, pepper, sharp instruments, cutlery, attacks, scissors, weapons, physical intimacy, bites, stings, scalds, burns, accidents, hawthorn, pine, thorns, cactus, aloes, anemone, arnica, belladonna, garlic, ginger, hops, mustard seed, nettles, wormwood, chives, onions, leeks, radish, rhubarb, tobacco, labs, furnaces, distilleries, bakehouses, ovens, smiths, butchers, fields, anger, passion, self-focus.

~Jupiter~

Expansion, optimism, religion, religious sites, tin, seduction, turquoise, chrysocolla, topaz, citrine, jasper, liver, pancreas, pituitary gland, sciatic nerve, excess, abundance, prophecy, philosophy, knowledge, universities, foreign travel, luggage, honey, oil, silk, fruit, distinct clothing, merchandise, horses, domestic birds, gambling, indulgence, entertainment, oak, dandelion, sage, endive, chervil, asparagus, figs, churches, temples, palaces, altars, courts, mansions, woods, orchards, winery, cornucopia, connecting with the soul.

~Saturn~

Limits, boundaries, father time, lord of death, shadows, lead, iron, steel, calcium, asbestos, sulphur, diamond, onyx, calcite, skeleton, spleen, skin, teeth, nails, joints, structure, crystallization, old age, blockage, anything dark, wool, heavy materials, agriculture, wheelbarrows, spades, farm houses and buildings, cold, laws, aspen, blackthorn, buckthorn, cypress, elm, toxic plants, hemlock, henbane, belladonna, hellebore, barley, beetroot, safflower, parsnips, spinach, deserts, woods, valleys, caves, church yards, ruins, coalpits, sinks, wells, mud, institutions.

~Uranus~

Eccentrics, mavericks, invention, genius, revolution, change, trends, disruptive science or tech, uranium, magnesium, lapis lazuli, sapphire, aquamarine, azurite, chalcedony, electricity, neon lights, plaid, nervous and circulatory system, pineal gland, chaos, violence, upheaval, astrology, steam engines, coal, machinery, coins, baths, fishponds, dangerous places, computers, magnets, quantum physics, research, welfare, humanity, hypnotherapy, railways, banks, gas, psychiatric hospitals, offices, hospitals, dispensaries, fortified places, chemicals, mingled/mingling, spirit and matter.

~Neptune~

Illusions, veils, diffuse, deception, water, oceans, mysticism, enlightenment, artistic pursuit and understanding, zinc, potassium, amethyst, fluorite, jade, sugilite, coral, aquamarine, pineal gland, lymphatic and nervous system, spine, mental processes, addiction, psychoses, disease, photography, music, substances, gas, religion, poetry, mimicry, chameleon, anesthetic, telepathy, empathy, dancing, psychic gifts, places near water, hospitals, places of healing, jeweler, painters, brewers, musicians, visionary.

~Pluto~

Power, influence, darkness, new life, what's hidden underneath, seeds, volcanoes, deep earth or ocean, bury, explosions, eruptions, abduction, plutonium, smoky quartz, obsidian, jet, pearl, deep reds, reproductive organs, the unconscious, nuclear, transformation, death, birth, rebirth, underworld, riches, earthquakes, big business, murder, detection, detective, invisibility, sneak, enforced change, hidden places, underground, drains, sewers, radioactive places, the occult, black magic, sacrifice, renew.

#zodiac #astrology #planets #sun #moon #mars #venus #mercury #jupiter #saturn #uranus #neptune #pluto

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yibocheeks · 1 month

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Translated excerpts from the War of Faith livestream interview of the cast

Each of the cast members are asked to bring something which represents their character. Yibo brings an abacus pin, to represent one of Wei Ruolai's talents.

Wang Yang brings the fountain pen that he used on set, because his character has to sign a lot of important documents with this pen, and, "More importantly, during the scene when the disciple bows to his mentor, this is a very very important gift."

MC: There was a trending search before that said, "In War of Faith, the male and female leads do not really have any development of (romantic) feelings, they are all focused on their careers." Did you see this? Li Qin: I think that there can be many different types of feelings. And also, when the director had introduced the character to me, he wanted to showcase what a woman's thoughts and dilemmas might be in that era, that this would be more meaningful and more interesting. So...it is up to the audience's imagination. MC: So how would you describe the relationship between Wei Ruolai and Shen Jinzhen? Li Qin: They are comrades in revolution, and she is also the one who guides him on his path of changing ideologies.

The cast plays a game (near the end of the interview), where they point out who they believe fits the prompt.

Which actor is the most active -> Yibo MC: Yibo, why do you think everyone says you're the most active? Yibo: Then you'll have to ask everyone (MC prompts Li Qin) Li Qin: Because if you watch the bts you'll know. Like when he slides down the stair railings, it's rather unexpected.

Who do netizens call the Red Wolf (character from the cartoon Pleasant Goat and Big Big Wolf) -> Li Qin Li Qin: I don't know why everyone gave me this nickname (MC prompts Wang Yang) Wang Yang: Because she has a red dress, and sometimes she has a serious expression like a big wolf MC: Because she can be very serious when she's facing her enemies

Who laughs the most easily -> Li Qin Li Qin: The trio from the Central Bank are together on this, they're ganging up together (MC prompts Yibo) Yibo: She has a lot of scenes where she ends up laughing in the middle MC: She's very cheerful? Yibo: Yes...she doesn't realize herself Li Qin: My brother (Wang Yang) laughs a lot in the middle of filming, don't you see this in the bts? Wang Yang: I very rarely do, this happened once with Gao Lu. The rest, really, you laugh very easily on set. And when she laughs, she easily makes the rest of us laugh. Her behaviour is very cute. MC: That means, Qin Qin, you bring a lot of joy to the set Li Qin: They've already started, if not for Yang-ge today, they probably wouldn't gang up like this

Who is the most different from their character -> Li Qin and Wang Yang (2 votes each, then Wang Xueqi adds his vote for Li Qin) (MC asks Yibo why he picked Li Qin) Yibo: Because like we just said she usually...*looks down thinking* MC: Her joyful times? Yibo: Yes, but her role needs to be very serious, so there is quite a difference (MC asks Song Shuai why he picked Wang Yang) Song Shuai: Maybe because Shen Tunan is very serious and solemn. Usually Wang Yang is like a big youth in his spare time, so he leads us along Wang Yang: Because they are all young, and I have to bring up the mood on set. Because Yibo is quite shy, so I do this so that everyone can work together in a cheerful environment Lan Xiya: When Wang Yang-laoshi is on set, he's very amicable Wang Yang: Call me Yang-ge, don't call me Wang Yang-laoshi Lan Xiya: Wang Yang-ge...sounds so awkward (laughs) Wang Yang-ge, he's very amicable and leads us with his energy Wang Yang: Do you not agree (to Li Qin) Li Qin: I completely agree, I think they are very fair/unbiased

Who's the best at taking action -> Yibo and Wang Xueqi (2 votes each) (MC asks Li Qin why she picked Yibo) Li Qin: Because as you just watched, like when he plays games, he's very good, he's a quick learner and has a quick reaction time

Whose character would you want to be if you could choose anyone? MC: Secretary Huang chose Ruolai immediately without hesitation Wang Yang points at Song Shuai and MC asks: You want to be your own secretary? Wang Yang: I want to be like him so I can compete with Ruolai MC: So you think if it was you then things might not turn out the same Wang Yang: Definitely, at least I wouldn't waste my time being jealous MC asks Yibo who he would pick and Yibo says: I think Ruolai is pretty good

#war of faith #translations #wang yibo #wang yang #song shuai #li qin #lan xiya #wang xueqi

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otmaaromanovas · 11 months

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Vera Ignatievna Gedroits - the openly lesbian, first woman professor of surgery in Russia, who worked alongside the Romanovs

Princess Vera Ignatievna Gedroits was a doctor, surgeon, poet, and pioneer of medicine. Vera worked alongside Tsarina Alexandra and Grand Duchesses Olga and Tatiana Nikolaevna, working with the Red Cross to treat injured soldiers during the First World War.

** content warning for mention of suicide **

Born as a Princess of royal Lithuanian descent in 1870 in Kyiv, Vera is thought to have developed an interest in medicine following the passing of her little brother Sergei during childhood. Vera later wrote under the pen name ‘Sergei Gedroits’ in honour of him.

In 1892, Vera was arrested for participating in the Populist movement. Freed and undeterred, Vera was adamant to continue her medical studies. An open lesbian, Vera entered into a marriage of convenience with friend Nikolai Belozerov, permitting the obtaining of a new passport to travel, allowing her to pursue her dream of a medical career without the restriction of borders and her previous name being on police records. Despite their marriage being one of convenience, rather that romantic love, Vera and Nikolai were close friends, and stayed in contact through letters.

In 1903, Vera obtained the title of ‘female doctor’, but later that year attempted suicide. Vera’s mental health had declined due to an overwhelming personal family life, the death of her sister, exhausting workload, and breakup of a relationship with a lady in Switzerland. The following year, Vera had recovered, and the outbreak of the Russo-Japanese war led to her working in horse-drawn mobile hospitals.

Working with wounded patients, Vera took detailed notes which allowed the making of the connection between injuries and the weapon used to inflict them. Interestingly, Vera did not shy away from abdominal operations, which was irregular due to previous thoughts that such injuries were ‘inoperable’. Often, patients with such injuries were refused surgery and were sadly left to pass away.

Following the War, Vera worked provincially, attending to 125,363 patients. This pioneering work was recognised by Tsarina Alexandra Feodorovna in 1909, who invited Vera to take the position of Senior Court Physician. Vera was the first woman to serve as a physician in the Imperial Palace. Vera wrote ‘Conversations on Surgery for Sisters and Doctors’ to help the Palace understand the profession. Vera would eventually write 58 scientific papers. Vera earned a Doctorate of Surgery on May 11 1912, the first woman in the history of the University of Moscow to do so.

Following the outbreak of the First World War, Vera helped to install physiotherapy equipment and X-ray machines in hospitals to aid recovery. Vera taught Tsarina Alexandra Feodorovna and her daughters, Grand Duchesses Olga and Tatiana, medical work, and they assisted with operations. Vera worked alongside Imperial Physician Dr. Evgeny Botkin to help connect infirmaries to railways and supplies. Vera occasionally travelled to the front lines to help provide surgery directly at the scene, and in one case performed over 30 operations over a three day period.

Vera is recorded as having little patience for the infamous Grigori Rasputin, with one source recording the shoving of Rasputin ‘into a corridor when he refused to get out’ of the way.

There are no records that suggest that the patients or the Romanovs objected to Vera's sexuality, though there was disapproval of her continuing to remain in Tsarskoe Selo to continue military surgery after the Revolution. If anything, she was renowned as one of the most capable and intelligent women of the era. Vera wore a surgeon's cap rather than the head coverings that nurses and Sisters of Mercy wore.

During the First World War, Vera met fellow nurse Countess Maria Dmitrievna Nirod-Mukhanova, a widowed maid-of-honour at the palace. The pair fell in love and started a relationship, which would last for the rest of Vera’s life. Maria had three children: Dmitri Feodorovich, Marina Feodorovna, and Feodor Feodorovich. The children knew about their mother's relationship with Vera, as they lived as a married couple whilst caring for and raising them. Some sources suggest that Vera and Maria had a marriage ceremony.

By the late 1920s, Vera was living with Maria, who worked as a surgeon, in Kyiv after the couple and Maria’s children escaped Revolution, taking refuge with monks. They spent eighteen years together. The pair lived as a married couple. In 1932, Vera passed away aged 61 after a diagnosis of uterine cancer. Maria continued Vera’s work by operating a pharmacy that provided free medicine to the poor. Maria passed away in 1965 aged 86. The above image is the only photo that has been attributed to her.

Vera defied all the social norms, becoming a pioneer of medicine and challenging traditions within the profession, saving thousands of lives in the process. Vera’s legacy lives on today.

SOURCES:

Hands that bring back to life. Vera Ignatievna Gedroits - surgeon and poet by V.G. Khokhlov

Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library

Wartime albums of Olga Nikolaevna and Tatiana Nikolaevna, Last Romanovs on Flickr

The Princess who Transformed War Medicine - BBC

Princess Vera Gedroits: military surgeon, poet, and author by J.D.C. Bennet

The Diary of Olga Romanov : Royal Witness to the Russian Revolution by Helen Azar

Tatiana Romanov, Daughter of the Last Tsar : Diaries and Letters, 1913-1918 by Helen Azar and Nicholas B.A. Nicholson

#Vera Gedroitz #Vera Gedroits #lgbt history #lesbian history #Alexandra Feodorovna #Olga Nikolaevna #Tatiana Nikolaevna #Maria Nirod Mukhanova #medical history #Russian history #pride month #tw sui #image described #queer history

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runnning-outof-time · 2 years

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Research | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: no - for @zablife ‘s 600 followers celebration

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: Tommy enlists a librarian named (Y/N) to help him with research on his latest opponents.

Warnings: language, smoking, mentions of drinking

Word Count: 3109

A/N: this was a very self-indulgent fic to write because I thoroughly enjoy research and would love to be a librarian. Congrats on 600 followers again, Lee! Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

(Y/N) was so busy working on re-cataloguing the returned books that she hadn't even noticed someone had approached the library's front desk. It wasn't until that person cleared their throat that she looked up. "Oh, I'm sorry, sir. How can I help you?" she apologetically asked the man standing across from her. He was dressed in a suit with an overcoat on top of it and was wearing a peaked cap.

"Can you help me find a book?" he asked her as he set his hands on the desk and leaned against them.

"Do you have a title?" (Y/N) asked, a polite smile on her face now.

"No. My sister said it was about the bastards that ran away," he gave her the little information that he did have. (Y/N) couldn't help but laugh slightly at his words.

"I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say that that's not its title," she pointed out the obvious before continuing, "you said sister...does she work here?"

The man nodded his head. "She does. Her name's Ada."

Realization flashed in (Y/N)'s eyes. "Shelby," she filled in the last name, "which means you're either Arthur, John, Thomas, or Finn," she then rattled off names before blushing slightly, "Ada talks about your family regularly."

"I'm Thomas," he told her, a slight smile playing on his lips, "but Tommy works too."

"Well it's nice to meet you, Thomas. My name's (Y/N)," she formally introduced herself then. "Now can you tell me what the topic of the book you're looking for is? Maybe that'll help narrow it down."

"The Russian Revolution," he gave her the information she was looking for and she nodded her head before she came around the desk and waved her hand for him to follow her.

"You're interested in history?" she asked him, her voice lowered now that they were walking amongst the shelves of books as well as the other patrons who were busy reading.

"Not necessarily..." he trailed off, his loud voice earning shushes in response, "just wanted to broaden me mind," he continued talking at the same volume level as before, unbothered by the disgruntled people.

(Y/N) only nodded her head as she brought him further into the library. She then stopped upon a shelf that she thought would have the book she was looking for. She looked at all of the options before grabbing the ladder and sliding it over to where the book she needed was. Then she climbed the rungs, grabbed it, and brought it back down for the man standing next to her. "Is this your book?" she asked, holding the small, red-covered book out in front of her.

"It is. Thank you," Tommy nodded his head before he took the book from her hand.

"You're welcome, Tommy," she smiled at him, happy to have helped him find the book he needed, "I'll be back at the desk...if you need help with anything," she then told him, jerking her thumb in the direction they'd come from.

"I'll come to you if I do," he nodded once more, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips as she then turned and walked away. He watched her go for a few moments before he found an empty table and sat at it. Then he opened the book and began reading.

"Good afternoon, (Y/N)...I was wondering if you'd be able to help me find some more books." The sudden voice came out of nowhere and it made (Y/N) jump; the pen in her hand went flying and the papers she had neatly stacked next to her book got disheveled as she set her hands on the desk to steady herself.

"You scared me, Tommy!" she exclaimed, knowing who the voice belonged without even having to look up. She had his voice stuck in her head since he first came to the library a week ago.

"Sorry," he apologized, although there was still a smirk on his lips. (Y/N) shook her head at his amused expression, unable to keep the smile from her features. "I need you to help me find some more books," he then repeated the second half of his original sentence.

"Ok," (Y/N) nodded before she went to the project that she was in the process of working on, "let me clean up what I was working on and we'll go see what we can find," she said as she made sure that her materials were in a neatly stacked pile before she came around the desk. "Follow me," she told him, waving him along as she walked through the shelves.

Soon enough, they were at a table with a few books stacked atop each other. Tommy had the same red-covered book in front of him again, and he was flipping through the pages as (Y/N) watched him intently. "You seem to like that book," she commented after a few quiet moments.

"It has the information that I need," Tommy answered her without looking up.

"But you've asked me to find you more books..." (Y/N) pointed out, trailing off as if the statement was a thought.

"I wanted to see if I could find more information," he responded, finally looking up at her. She lost her train of thought the second his blue eyes locked onto hers, and it took a moment to snap out of the trance that they'd brought on.

"I can help you find some," she told him after she finally managed to rip her focus away from his stare.

"Yeah?" he asked, his eyebrows raising slightly. She nodded and then picked her chair up so that she could bring it right next to his. Tommy glanced down at its placement, they were sitting rather close together now, but he didn't comment on it.

"Yes," (Y/N) affirmed with another slight nod before she motioned to the book. Tommy understood what she was getting at and let her take it from him. She then flipped to the back of the book and began scouring through the source notes that were present there. "Is there anything specific that you're looking for?" she asked him after she'd been flipping through the pages for a few moments.

"A man; named Leon Petrovich Romanov," Tommy answered her and she began flipping through the pages once more, "I'm interested in his dealings in Russia...wanted to find out more than just who he is," he continued as she then reached over for another book and started flipping through it.

"Any specific reason?" she asked out of curiosity as she then started searching through the book's index.

Tommy sucked in a breath and let it out, taking a moment to decide if he wanted to disclose any information to her before he responded, "I've been asked to work with him...I wanted to know more about what I'm getting myself into," he gave her a broad response.

She took it without further question and pulled a third book in front of her. Several moments passed before she finally stopped flipping through the pages and looking in his direction. "I've found some stuff that may be useful to you," she informed him. Tommy raised his eyebrows at her statement, his nonverbal way of asking her to continue. "There's information in this book about his family, his role in the Russian Revolution, and the people that he's been linked to," she then listed off the topics of information that she found. Tommy nodded along as she spoke. "The trick to finding more information and sources is looking at the notes included at the back of the book. Everyone skips over them really, but they help a great deal when you need to corroborate your evidence."

Tommy was impressed by her words. "You seem like you know what you're talking about," he commented.

"I'd hope so...I'm studying literature at university at the moment and my professors would have my head if I didn't know how to use an entire book properly," she told him, laughing slightly as she remembered all of her professors' lectures on the parts a book had.

"Literature?" Tommy questioned, intrigue in his voice.

(Y/N) nodded. "Yes, literature. American literature to be exact."

"And why American?"

"Because I read Henry David Thoreau's Walden and was instantly hooked," she answered his question, "now I've decided to devote my scholarly work to him."

"Is that what you were working on when I scared you?" he asked her, grinning slightly as he thought back to the reaction he caused.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes at the mention of what happened earlier, a smile forming on her face as she nodded her head slightly. "Yes. I was doing a deeper reading of Walden. My prospectus is focused on the question of whether or not Thoreau truly could have felt complete solitude amongst the woods when he was only living a mile away from civilization during the time of writing Walden, and I'm sorry...I'm probably boring you now," she ended by looking down at the table once more, feeling slightly embarrassed that she had just delved into what most people would find boring.

But Tommy didn't seem to mind. "You're not a bore," he assured her, "actually I wanted to know if you'd like to get a drink and explain to me more about your project," he then smoothly asked her. She was able to tell that there was a grin on his face without even looking at him.

She confirmed what she already knew when she turned her head to look at him. He still had his eyes on her and a half-smirk adorned his lips. She once again got sucked in by his eyes and had to fight hard not to just fall at his feet right there. "I've done my research on you, Tommy," she finally spoke, her voice now lower because they were rather close together.

"Oh yeah?" he started, his eyebrows raising, "what have you found?" he asked as his eyes widened slightly, the intrigue in them evident.

"Nothing good," she held his gaze, shaking her head slightly as an added measure.

Tommy laughed softly and nodded his head to the side, "sounds about right," he agreed with her, his smirk still present.

"I would be interested though," (Y/N) said almost as soon as he was done speaking. She mentally kicked herself for saying her words in a way that seemed desperate...like if she waited a second after he finished his statement, his mind would have been changed.

"Yeah?" his eyes were on hers again. He couldn't deny that he was surprised by her statement. He thought his chances had flown out the window when she hit him with the 'nothing good' line.

"Yes, but I'll have you know that it's because I'd like to tell you more about my work on Thoreau," she said, the second part of her statement making Tommy chuckle.

"Either way, I'll take it," he shrugged his shoulders.

The two first spent some time searching through the books placed on the table. Once they were finished, (Y/N) told her boss that she was leaving and they set out for one of the taverns that were close to the library. They were immediately given one of the finer tables in the establishment and a waiter came over so fast to take their order that (Y/N) couldn't even comment on the amazing service they were getting. Surely it had something to do with Tommy's standing within the city.

With their drinks in front of them, Tommy allowed (Y/N) to tell him more about the project she was working on and what she hoped to get out of it. Then Tommy, while staying mum on most of the finer details of what he was working on, gave (Y/N) some background on why he'd been wanting to do research on the Russian Revolution and the Archduke that he mentioned earlier.

After those topics were out of the way, they talked a bit more about themselves. Their conversation lasted for a long while without them even noticing until one of the managers of the establishment kindly asked for them to leave. They heeded to the request and Tommy graciously offered to walk (Y/N) home, which she accepted with butterflies in her stomach.

At the door to her apartment, she thanked Tommy for a wonderful evening and then pressed a kiss to his cheek. She immediately became embarrassed by her actions and felt that she went too far, but the grin that Tommy was wearing once she pulled away helped to quell her nerves. They bid each other goodnight and Tommy began walking down the hallway, away from her apartment. (Y/N) watched him until she couldn't anymore before turning the key and entering her dwelling with a smile on her face.

"Thomas Shelby, you can't be smoking in here!" (Y/N) hissed as she approached the table he was sitting at. He was focused on the book that lay open on the table, but (Y/N) was focused on the cigarette that was dangling from his lips.

Her voice made him look up. "Hi, love," he greeted her, the nickname he called her by making her insides heat up and a blush travel to her cheeks, but she had to remain calm. There had been more nights filled with drinks and conversation after the first, and now (Y/N) couldn't hide the fact that she may have developed an interest in this man.

"You need to put that cigarette out," she told him, her eyes still trained on it, “and you can’t be smoking here.”

"Didn't know," he mused as he removed it from his lips, exhaling a cloud of smoke as he dropped it to the floor and stamped it out with his shoe. (Y/N) gasped and looked down quickly, relief filling her once she saw that it had been extinguished on the wooden floor rather than carpet.

"Yes you did...I've told you a handful of times before," she told him, unable to stop the smile from forming on her face as he looked at her with a lazy grin. "What are you reading?" she asked him then.

"The same old shit," he replied, motioning to the book on the table before he sighed, "are there any more books on this royal family's involvement in the conflict?" he asked her then. She came around to where he was sitting and peered over his shoulder to get a good look at the book he had all while trying to ignore the sensation of her body brushing against his.

"There might be," she told him, glancing in his direction briefly before she took a step back and straightened out her skirt. "Follow me, I'll help you find some," she said, waiting for him to stand before she started walking through the rows of shelves.

"Should I be worried that you're taking me to the other side of the library?" Tommy commented after they'd been walking for a few moments.

"Shut it, Tommy," (Y/N) hissed, turning to shoot him a glare that she wasn't able to keep up for long due to the stupid grin on his face. Soon enough, she slowed down at a shelf of books. "There should be some amongst these books," she told him, her eyes carefully looking at the books' spines in hopes she'd find what she was looking for. Tommy, on the other hand, was too busy looking at her as he leaned up against the shelf. "Ok, so this one..." she trailed off as she pointed to a book on the shelf, "might have something in it about the family itself, but you said you're looking for something more on their involvement in the revolution, correct?"

"Hmm," was all she received, which made her look at him with raised eyebrows. Her eyes locked with his, engaging her in yet another fight to try and keep her right mind.

"You didn't hear a word I said, did you?" she asked, the startings of a grin playing on her lips.

"No," Tommy shook his head, not even seeing the point in lying. He continued before (Y/N) could say anything, "you looked fuckin' beautiful saying it though," he told her, a grin forming on his lips as he took in her shocked reaction.

"Tommy!" she hissed, her eyes wide as she tried to stop her cheeks from heating up.

"Sorry," he shrugged slightly before he pushed himself off of the shelf. In a swift movement, he managed to take hold of her hips so that he could pull her closer to him; close enough that their noses bumped before (Y/N) managed to steady herself by grabbing onto the lapels of his suit jacket. “Forgive me, eh?” he asked in a whisper, his breath fanning off of her lips as he looked at her through his eyelashes.

(Y/N) looked up at him with wide eyes, her heart practically beating out of her chest. His proximity was making her forget how she even got into this position, but she wasn’t about to waste the chance she’d just been given. Taking a deep breath and hoping for the best, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his. The kiss was soft at first, but then Tommy responded, kissing her with vigor as his grip on her hips tightened. Their lips stayed melded together until (Y/N) pulled back, her lungs screaming for air. She searched his eyes for a moment before exhaling a breath of a laugh and looking at the bookshelf.

“Maybe my research was wrong...” she finally said after a few beats of silence. Tommy’s brows furrowed at her statement, his silent way of asking her to elaborate. “I thought that you spent a lot of time here because you wanted to learn more about the Russian Revolution...when really you were interested in me.”

Her words made Tommy chuckle and shake his head slightly. “You thought I was coming here to read books, eh?” he asked her, quirking an eyebrow as a grin formed on his face.

“Maybe...” she trailed off, her cheeks heating up.

“Love, there ain’t anything I’ll ever be that interested in,” he told her. (Y/N) laughed at his statement before her mouth went dry at the look he was giving her. “Except for you...I’m very interested in you,” he added at the end before he leaned in and kissed her again.

Tagged: @alreadybroken-ts @magicalxdaydream @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @golden-hoax @elenavampire21 @peaky-cillian @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @easilyobessedbutflighty @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic

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mid-nighttiger · 9 months

Text

[Image ID: Picture of a white notepad in portrait orientation with the following text written in cursive in dark ink:

This story happened a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. It is already over. Nothing can be done to change it. It is a story of love and loss, brotherhood and betrayal, courage and sacrifice and the death of dreams. It is a story of the blurred line between our best and our worst. It is the story of the end of an age. A strange thing about stories-- Though this all happened so long ago and so far away that words cannot describe the time or distance, it is also happening right now. Right here. It is happening as you read these words. This is how twenty-five millennia come to a close. Corruption and treachery have crushed a thousand years of peace. This is not just the end of the republic; night is falling on civilization itself. This is the twilight of the Jedi. The end starts now.

/End ID]

[Image ID: Closeup of the same notepad showing the last passage. It is angled so that the red sheen and dark teal of the ink can be more clearly seen. /End ID]

pen: fountain pen revolution ultra flex; ink: colorverse extreme deep field; paper: tomoe river

#midarts #calligraphy #star wars #revenge of the sith #matthew stover #if you saw me post a version yesterday with a misspelling no you didnt

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impossiblesuitcase · 1 year

Text

Tomorrow

Benoit Farms and Gardens was cold and windy, but if it weren’t for the gust rattling the timber beams of the ancient homestead, Kai would have never known. It was warm and peaceful with the three of them: himself and the soon-to-be Benoit-Kesleys.

Scarlet hummed away as she doused the dinner and dessert dishes in the soapy kitchen sink. Wolf regaled Kai with his adventures of chasing escaping pigs as he tackled the pots and pans. The dishwasher had broken after Wolf—attempting to pull out the top rack—underestimated his force and mistakenly swung his fist right into the heating element (“he still isn’t quite adept to his new bioengineered strength,” Scarlet had explained). They planned to enlist Cinder to fix it sometime during her stay, and until then, they mutually agreed to force Thorne and Jacin into dishwashing duty.

Like this, the two were perfectly in their element, calm and unflappable. Completely unlike the frustrated pair he had met when he’d arrived that afternoon, and with him, hundreds of paparazzi vultures. Scarlet’s course of yelling, Wolf keeping her from shoving her pitchfork into multiple eyes, reminded Kai—with a touch of fear—that she was the scary one in the relationship.

It was distressing to be the one to break their closely guarded serenity, even if he couldn’t control the press.

Although it wasn’t entirely him fracturing the peace. A good chunk of the journalists had been there to report on the ‘first Lunar-Earthen marriage since the Second Era’. Scarlet was clearly uncomfortable with this invasive, nascent fame, and from her lengthy ranting, was clearly hoping it would pass after the wedding.

“—And when I finally got her back in the pen, I realised I left the gate open,” Wolf continued.

“And the piglets escaped?” guessed Kai.

“The piglets escaped.”

Kai chuckled heartily hearing the genuine disappointment in Wolf’s voice. He was a far cry from the ferocious killer Kai had been afraid of on the Rampion. Whipped cream in the corners of his lips, wrapped in a bright red polka-dot apron, sulking over baby pigs, Kai wasn’t sure this man could kill a fly if he tried.

Kai’s hands were wrapped around a homely, slightly misshapen mug. The handle was a little wonky, the paint splotchy, yet upon seeing the sloppy inscription on the base, Scarlet, agedd 7, he treated it as the finest china. A long sip of the hot chocolate inside travelled to his belly and warmed his core. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so relaxed.

“It’s nice to have you here before everyone else,” said Wolf, scrubbing a cast iron pan.

“Well, I am the very best of the guests coming,” Kai teased.

Scarlet spun around and flicked water at him. He dodged with a laugh. “Wolf means that we’re happy to spend some time with you before the fanfare of our loud friends.”

Kai rested the mug on a coaster and held his hands up in surrender. “Sorry. You’re right—when was the last time it was just the three of us?”

A collective pause. Wolf even stopped attacking the pan.

Then, in unison, “Never.”

They all fell into laughter.

“Wow,” he drawled, “Does that mean I’m a bad friend? Or are you bad friends?”

“Maybe we’ve all been busy,” Scarlet chastised, dunking a plate in the water.

Kai sighed, running his finger around the rim of the mug. It was nice to be here in this little bubble of friendship and familiarity and comfort, yet he couldn’t help being reminded of how rare this was. Aside from a few brief catchups with Cress and Thorne, the occasional diplomatic dinner with Winter, and the Peace Ball last year with all of them, he’d barely seen his friends since the revolution.

He’d barely seen his girlfriend since the revolution.

Tomorrow. He would see her tomorrow.

“I hope we’re all less busy in the future,” he wondered idly. “We don’t get to do much together, do we?”

Wolf grunted in agreement. Scarlet said nothing.

The mood turned too sombre too fast.

“Well, it’s not like we can help it,” Kai amended quickly. “We all have different lives, different path–”

“No,” said Scarlet, back still turned. “No, we will see each other. We won’t grow apart.” She drew two wine glasses from the sink. It was precarious holding just the stems with slippery fingers, but she handled them with ease. “What’s the point of life if you never see your friends?”

What’s the point of life if you never see your friends?”

(What’s the point of life if you never see the love of your life?)

Tomorrow.

“You’re right.” Kai dragged a hand down his face. “Stars, I didn’t mean to be depressing. I think…the long distance is getting to me.”

“I admire you, Kai,” Wolf commented. “To be apart from the most important person to you for that long…I know I couldn’t handle it.”

“Everyone knows.” Scarlet nudged his side with her elbow. “You went more than a little crazy last time I was kidnapped.”

Redness crept up his ears, though he didn’t appear ashamed. “I couldn’t help it. Not when it’s you.”

She scoffed, but her smile was tender.

Kai’s heart warmed watching them. “Are you excited to be married?”

“Yes,” Wolf said immediately as Scarlet shrugged and said, “Sure.”

Wolf blinked.

Kai blinked.

Enough silence passed that Scarlet finally glanced over her shoulder. With two sets of confused male eyes upon her, she jolted. “Oh, I didn’t mean it like that.”

Wolf crossed his arms, soap caught amongst the forest of hair. “What did you mean?”

“Well, of course I’m thrilled to be married to you, Ze’ev. I just don’t really think excited is the right word. Excited is like…something new. Something you don’t already have. You’re excited for the unknown.” She draped her kitchen towel over her shoulder and crossed the two steps to him, tucking her hands around his waist. His arms came around her instantly. “With you, I know exactly what I’m getting. It’s what I already have. I’m ecstatic, elated, emotional…all the words. But it’s not unknown.”

Wolf pulled her closer. “I knew what you meant,” he whispered, “I just wanted to hear you say it.”

When they kissed, Kai looked down at his drink.

Scarlet pulled away and pushed the steel scrubber back into his hand, winking. “Get back to work. You’re just acting offended so you can get out of chores.”

Wolf scowled. “I’ve been scrubbing for ten minutes and it’s not coming off!”

“Use those strong muscles of yours.”

Kai couldn’t help tuning out their back and forth as his mind focused on her words. It’s not unknown. I know exactly what I’m getting. It’s what I already have. He wished it were the same for him. Yet he and Cinder only barely knew what they had. They hadn’t been together enough to be together; to learn about each other as intimately as Scarlet and Wolf, even as Winter and Jacin or Cress and Thorne had. The ring in the inner pocket of his suitcase burnt a hole in his mind. Too weighty, too heavy a promise of the known when all they had was latent unknown—

“So why do you bring up marriage, Kai?” Scarlet asked, almost succeeding at casualness. “Been thinking about it yourself?”

Wait, had he been speaking out loud?

He seized up his now cool drink and finished it off in a single draught. The milk coated his throat uncomfortably. A cough. “Well, I mean, when a couple have been together for a few years it naturally comes to mind.”

“Get real,” Scarlet laughed. “You’ve been wanting to marry Cinder since the moment she tranquilised your wedding planner and kidnapped you.”

“...Maybe.”

“What’s wrong then?”

“Nothing! Nothing’s wrong between us. I-I love her; she loves me. We’re just…not ready to take that step yet.”

“Fair,” said Wolf, still scrubbing. Kai thought of offering to help, but they’d already turned him down when he’d insisted he clean after dinner, and he thought doing so now might hurt Wolf’s pride. Relinquishing the tool, Wolf turned to face him. “When do you think you’ll be ready?”

“I don’t know. We probably need to spend more time actually together to figure it out.”

“Time to figure out what? How you feel? If you’re right for each other?” Scarlet wiped over the last plate and pulled the plug. The sink gurgled loudly as water pooled down the drain.

He knitted his fingers together. “I already know how I feel. I know we’re right for each other.”

“That sounds like a man ready to propose.”

Kai’s gaze darted up to her, jaw slack.

She had a loving authority on her face. “Sooo, you’re ready. Is Cinder ready too?”

“I…I think maybe. But as you said: you and Wolf know. There are no unknowns between you. You’ve been together all this time to learn that. Cinder and I…”

“—Have talked every day over comms, have spent every possible moment in each other’s arms?” Wolf listed.

“Okay, when’s her birthday?” Scarlet probed.

“December 21st. But every year she forgets and still thinks it’s the fake birthday the cyborg surgeons gave her: November 29th. She goes around saying the wrong age for at least a month.”

“What’s her favorite colour?”

“Midnight blue.” (Because it made him look handsome, Cinder had bashfully admitted.)

“How many children does she want?”

Cheeks burning, he uttered, “Three. We both want three.”

Scarlet smiled smugly. “Hmm. Doesn’t sound like there’s much unknown.”

Before he even thought of a response, she pulled out the chair opposite him and sat, grasping his hands into hers. Wolf circled the table, laying a hand on his shoulder.

Eyes sparkling, Scarlet squeezed. “Kai. If you think you’re ready, then there’s no need to wait. All the things that are still unknown will just be…happy bonuses. And the bad unknowns will just make your relationship all the more stronger when you conquer them together. You don’t need to know it all yet.”

“And proposing is a commitment to each other,” Wolf added. “You’ll have time to learn the rest before you actually get married. Some things can wait.” A shrug. “Maybe I won’t finish that pan tonight, but I’m sure I will tomorrow.”

Kai looked up at him. “It’s bugging you that much?”

“I don’t understand,” he growled, “I’ve soaked it twice now.”

Kai disentangled his hands from Scarlet’s, digging them into his lap. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I am ready, but—how do I know if she is?”

“Well, you’ll be seeing her very soon. Try to get a sense for it,” she suggested.

“And if she is…propose the next time we see each other?”

“Psh. That could be months with how busy you two are.” A flick of the hand. “If she’s ready now, propose now.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Now? As in, here? As in: the next few days?”

“Sure.”

“Bu–no. I couldn’t. This is about you two. Your wedding. I can’t take that from you.”

“Honey,” Scarlet smiled up at her fiancé. “Would seeing our two friends finally get their happy ending be a nice wedding gift?”

“Sounds wonderful.”

She grinned. “Just do it, Kai. If it’s right, don’t wait when there’s no reason—oh, hang on. Unless you wanted to propose with a ring.”

Heart hammering, Kai glances down at his feet, hair covering his eyes. “I…actually brought the ring with me.”

“Ha! All this ‘I’m not ready,’ but ‘I’ll bring the ring with me’?’”

“Yeah, I know.” He took in a breath. “The only reason I’m delaying is because, well, I’m nervous!”

“So was I,” said Wolf warmly. “So nervous that she ended up having to propose for me.”

“It will be fine,” Scarlet assured, red hair flaming under the yellow ceiling light, as fiery as her effervescent constitution. “Don’t let happiness wait, Kai.”

Waiting for the antidote. Waiting to find Princess Selene. Waiting for Cinder to wake up in her hospital bed, bleeding and bruised but alive.

They don’t have to wait anymore.

His eyes welled up suddenly, too fast to rein in. He choked back a wet laugh. “Sorry”—a sniff— “I don’t know what came over me.”

Scarlet’s chair screeched against the tiles as she launched away, rounding the table and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. Bulky, comforting arms circled them both.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

Family. This was his family, as all his friends were, as Cinder was and always would be. When he had hesitantly informed Torin of his plans to propose, it had vaguely felt like what it would have been to tell his father.

Telling Scarlet sort of felt like telling his mother.

Collecting some of his emotions, he extricated himself. “Okay, but if I do propose here, don’t go acting like this wasn’t your plan.”

“Aw,” Wolf groaned. “I wanted to make you look bad.”

“I’ll buy you a new skillet.”

“You have my blessing.”

They all laughed and all smiled, and that was precisely when exhaustion started knocking on the door alerting Kai to the fact that he’d had a long day.

“You look exhausted. Off to bed,” Scarlet commanded, apt as ever. Kai went along willingly as she pushed him out of the kitchen.

He yawned, leaning against the banister of the stairs. “What did you put in that drink, Scar? Crushed up sleeping pills?”

She posed a finger over her lips. “Trade secret.”

With one last warm glance, Kai left his friends in the kitchen and headed up to the guest room, the final image of Wolf kissing Scarlet’s cheek lingering in the air. It would only be his for the night; Winter and Jacin would have it tomorrow, while he’d bunk out with the others in the Rampion. Maybe he and Cinder could even stay in the same room.

The first thing he did once inside was pull open his suitcase. He hadn’t touched it since arriving except to retrieve the small gift for his hosts, an old-fashioned analogue clock set inside a chicken figurine. It had seemed so perfectly them when he first saw it. He just hoped they wouldn’t netsearch the artist listed on the base, as he was sure they would keel over when they saw the 1,300 univ price tag.

Carefully, he reached into the inner pocket of his suitcase and procured the fated ring box. A moment of reflection, reverence even, then he opened it…

And there it was. A ruby ringed in immaculate diamonds. A band of carefully burnished gold. His mother’s ring. His grandmother’s ring, and his great-grandmother’s.

His wife’s ring.

It was not heavy or burning in his mind any longer. It was a token. A promise, one that filled him with greater certainty than he had yet felt. A certainty that had been birthed and reared and matured since that first look in a humid New Beijing market.

Tomorrow. He would see her tomorrow.

Notes

I have three fics I’ve been trying to finish for a year and then I finish this in two days. What is brain function.

So in my headcanon, Kai doesn’t really ‘plan’ to propose at the farm. He just feels like it’s right and so he does. So as to not take away from Scarlet and Wolf’s special day, he and Cinder keep the engagement a secret for a while. But a tumblr ask prompted me to think about if Scarlet and Wolf knew and approved, and thus this was born. Still not sure which explanation I prefer.

(btw just letting you know that if someone hasn't interacted with my fics for a while, I remove them from my list, so if you get removed and want to be re-addded, let me know!)

@cindersassasin @hayleblackburn @spherical-empirical @salt-warrior @just2bubbly @gingerale2017 @zephyr-thedragon @icarusignite @kaider-is-my-otp @slmkaider @luna-maximoff-22 @cosmicnovaflare @kaixiety @snozkat @mirrorballsss @skinwitch18 @vincentvangothic

#tlc #kaider #the lunar chronicles #lunar chronicles #linh cinder #emperor kaito #prince kai #tlc fandom #lunar chronicles fanficition #scarlet benoit #wolf kesley #wolflet

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comicweek · 1 month

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Bennett & Cafaro Wichblade - July 2024

Los Angeles, California - April 18, 2024 - Top Cow is reimagining the hit supernatural thriller series Witchblade. The new series, coming July 2024, will be penned by NYT Best-Selling Marguerite Bennett (Animosity, Batwoman, DC Bombshells) and visualized by artist Giuseppe Cafaro (Suicide Squad, Power Rangers, Red Sonja). The creative duo is working with original co-creator Marc Silvestri, who is the CEO of Top Cow Productions Inc. and one of the founders of Image Comics. Together, they will reintroduce the series to Witchblade’s die-hard fans with a reimagined origin with contemporary takes on familiar characters and new story arcs that will hook new readers and rekindle the energy and excitement that fueled the 90’s Image Revolution that shaped generations of top creators.

Marguerite Bennett, who has been focused on writing for the upcoming Butterfly TV Series and Ark: The Animated Series, says, “The ability to tell a ferocious story full of monsters, sexuality, vision, and history was irresistible.” She adds, “Our saga is sleek, vicious, ferocious, and has a lot to say about power in the 21st century and will be the first time that we are stopping the roller coaster to let more people on. I’ve loved Witchblade since I was a child, and there is truly no other heroine like Sara with such an iconic legacy and such a rich, brutal relationship to her own body.”

In Witchblade #1, New York City Police Detective Sara Pezzini's life was forever fractured by her father's murder. Cold, cunning, and hellbent on revenge, Sara now stalks a vicious criminal cabal beneath the city, where an ancient power collides and transforms her into something wild, magnificent, and beyond her darkest imaginings. How will Sara use this ancient power, or will she be consumed by it?

Through last year’s Witchblade Complete Collection Kickstarter, the world received a glimpse of Marc Silvestri’s WitchbladeArmor redesign. But, a whole new universe has been created by Giuseppe Cafaro, who states, “The Witchblade universe is being modernized to reflect how Marguerite beautifully explores the extreme sides of Sara through memories, her personal thoughts, like desire and hunger, in her solitude and when she is possessed by the Witchblade. So, I had to visually intersect a noir True Detective-like world with a supernatural, horror world that is a fantastic mix between Berserk and Zodiac!”

Marc Silvestri notes, “This is brand new mythology around Sara, and I can’t wait for you to fall in love with her and all the twists and turns. Discover Witchblade reimagined this summer, and join us as we bring all the fun of the 90s to the modern age and see how exciting comics can be. I can’t wait for you to read this new series.”

Witchblade #1 will be available at comic book shops on Wednesday, July 17th, for $4.99 for 48 pages. The Final Order Cutoff deadline for comic shop retailers is Monday, June 24th, 2024.

#top cow #top cow universe #witchblade #sara pezzini #top cow artifacts #Marguerite Bennett #Giuseppe Cafaro #image comics #90s comics

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collabwithmyself · 11 months

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/crocsfroggo/721764828624076800/can-we-talk-about-how-awesome-it-is-when-the-light?source=share

This person giffed several moments showcasing Nimonas tapetum lucidum!!

God I love this character art detail

YESSS THANK YOU

#collab answers #red-pen-revolution

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gemsofgreece · 7 months

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The Black Rider: Nikolaos Plastiras

Colonel Nikólaos Plastiras (1883 - 1953) was a general and politician, who served twice as the Prime Minister of Greece. He was a politically conflicting or, even, confusing leader who however was very popular at his time. Contemporary historiography evaluates Plastiras as neither a particularly competent politician nor perceptive enough for such a position, however historians agree he was a rare example of a prominent man being very notable for his sense of honour, lawfulness and temperance.

Plastiras fought in the Macedonian Struggle, the Balkan Wars, the National Defense Movement (against the King), World War I, alongside the Allies in the war of the Red and the White Army in Ukraine. Due to his distinction in battle, he earned the name "Ο Μαύρος Καβαλάρης" (O Mávros Kavaláris), "the Black Rider".

Source: mixanitouxronou.gr

In 1922, Plastiras' Regiment was transferred to Smyrna (Izmir) during the Greco-Turkish War. Plastiras was the only anti-King officer that was not dismissed from the army, simply because his Regiment threatened they wouldn't fight under any other commander. While the war ended with Greece's defeat, Plastiras was singled out and called by the Turks as "Kara Biber" (Black Pepper) and his Regiment as "Şeytanın Askerleri" (the Satan's Army).

After the defeat, Plastiras along with Colonel Stylianos Gonatas and Commander Phokas organized the September 1922 Revolution which led to King Constantine I's resignation and the return of the exiled politician Eleftherios Venizelos. His most controversial moment was the "Trial of the Six" (Η Δίκη των Έξι) were six officers were deemed as the major culprits of the disastrous war for Greece, partly due to their blind devotion to the King and their contempt against the popularity of Venizelos. They were condemned to death.

Once, his brother, Giorgos Plastiras, 60 years old at that point, asked for a job in a FIX beer factory. Hearing his surname, they asked him whether he was related to the PM. His brother admitted it but begged them to keep it a secret from him. They agreed and hired him immediately. However, as it happens, a few days later it was all over the news. Plastiras, furious, called his brother to his house and scolded him for getting a job relying on the family name. He counter-proposed that if his brother had financial issues, he should stay with him and share the food.

Plastiras was chronically ill and he lived in a tiny house in Mets (unthinkable for a politician and twice PM). Once, somebody suggested to set up a landline phone for him. Plastiras refused. "How do you even suggest this? Greece will be in poverty while I get to enjoy my phone!?"

Plastiras adopted five orphans from men who fell in battle. He never married and had no biological children.

One night of August 1922, during the Greek army's retreat from Asia Minor, the soldiers were so exhausted that they all fell asleep. When they woke up the next morning, they saw Plastiras on his horse, guarding them. They asked him, "Sir, you - our commander - are standing guard over us?!". Plastiras replied; "I am riding and I am well rested. You travel on foot and carry the supplies. If I don't protect you, then who ought to?"

The publisher of two prominent to this day newspapers (ΒΗΜΑ and ΝΕΑ) once gifted an expensive golden pen to Plastiras. Plastiras refused the gift. When his secretary argued that the publisher might get offended, Plastiras insisted. "I do not need to sign in gold. My little pen is enough. I don't want gifts. For those who make gifts often expect 'gifts in return' (=implied he suspected bribery)".

Plastiras was once visited by Queen Frederica of Greece (daughter-in-law of the king he so fought). She was shocked by the state of his humble home. She asked him why he was sleeping in a cheap camp bed. Plastiras replied that he was used to it since his military days and that many people in the country lived in far worse conditions after all.

Nikolaos Plastiras slept with three frames on the wall over his bed; an icon of Saint Nicholas (his namesake), a painting of French Revolutionists in 1789 and an image of Eleftherios Venizelos!

Plastiras' will to an adopted daughter included the following, which were all his possessions at the time of his death: 216 drachmas, a 10 dollar bill and a note reading "All for Greece". There was also a military receipt charging him with 8 drachmas for a bed he'd lost during the wars. The receipt was accompanied with the amount of money required, with Plastira's requirement to be granted to the public sector, so that he wouldn't die "owing to the Fatherland".

Plastiras was a centrist who often collaborated with liberals and leftists at a time the left was tragically marginalised, at least to the degree that didn’t threaten his own position much. He was likely Venizelos' ultimate fanboy, he was a fierce anti-royalist and loathed the dictatorship of Metaxas. He tried to prevent the Civil War but failed. He was the first one to use the term "Civil War" at a time when others still called it "bandit war", to put the entire blame on the communists. During the war, Plastiras condemned both the Left and the Right for their actions which led to "kin killing kin". As a politician, Plastiras was a pacifist wishing for the unity of the Greek people, but he did not succeed much.

After his death, his body was found to have 27 sword scars and 9 wounds from bullets. His heart was removed and preserved. It was wrapped in a Greek flag and sent to his homeland, Karditsa, as was his wish. His heart is in the Folk Museum of Karditsa.

His heart is kept in a golden capsule in the museum.

Tavropós lake, the lake of Karditsa and a famous artificial lake of Thessaly, was attributed to him. Once, Plastiras was visiting his home Karditsa during severe rainfalls that caused destructive floods in the region. Plastiras looked at the flooded region and said: "This place will become a lake someday". The project for the creation of the lake started a few years later. The lake's actual name is Lake of Tavropós but it is best known as Plastiras' Lake.

Plastiras Lake

#greece #europe #history #Greek history #people #European history #20th century #Greek people #modern Greek history #nikolaos plastiras

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homoquartz · 1 month

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let me tell you about my dream

stay with me because it's a whole lot of nothing

at some indeterminate time in the future, the entire human race was moved into this massive commune due to some unspecified threat in the outer world, and we have been like this for so many generations we've lost count

people are divided into four colors based on temperament and skillset, like in a YA novel, but people are able to move from one color to another as they develop. their families can be mixed colors, but adult children need to move to the appropriate community once old enough. the colors are red (independent, passionate, physical), blue (calm, logical, medical), green (nurturing, friendly, natural), and yellow (introverted, rule following, mechanical). yellow is almost entirely segregated from everyone else in service of some greater purpose.

if there are rulers over this place, they are unseen. there are cameras and spotlights all over the place.

the commune is like, a giant outdoor camp with fortified walls keeping everyone in. houses are not houses but fenced areas which are laid out like livestock pens at a county fair, but separated by tarp or cloth, and each family has made their little space their own. individuals are literally in a barracks-like setup with only their cot as their personal space. there's no privacy anywhere.

the green community are the biggest spiritualists and worship a leader, who, when collected by police for sedition, told them to put his skull on a spike for everyone to be inspired by. they did, and the community wrapped his skull in cloth and set it in the center of their town, bedecked in lights and flowers, to visit him. this is allowed by the mysterious overseers.

yellow work in a giant open-plan office somewhere. it's suggested that their homes are just below the floor. they sit at their computers doing some kind of work for the people behind the cameras. they aren't allowed to socialize much. they do decorate their desks with fidgets. it's important to note that the yellows have created automatons to do work for them - shaped like fish, dogs, or humanoids depending on what's needed. these robots have since developed consciousness, but no one, not even the robots, is aware of that yet.

there is also another group of people who have been cast out of any color commune and are considered evil and a drain on society, yet they're not taken away by police. they roam around stealing necessities from others - but also seemingly useless things, like potted plants and lego pieces.

but it turns out these people are barred from color because their souls have been linked to this enormous otherworldly blob that lives beneath the commune. It's implied that this big black oozy blob is worshipped by the unseen rulers, since there are candles and altars and shit all around. the cast-outs operate normally unless they're too close to the blob, at which time it becomes a massive struggle to maintain their identity. there are hoards of spirits covered in black ooze that imply the blob eventually devours and is powered by these people. it's discovered that they collect random objects that have a positive, loved energy that combats this blob. they're the only ones that can sense it.

there is also a lingering mythos in the commune about two men who escaped, but it is a cautionary tale, because it is said that the wilderness consumed them and they died. however, they are alive out in the mountains and have become fused with goat DNA. (?) One day, after people escape and wander for many months, these two will teach them how to survive.

someone in the commune has been developing bombs to aid a great escape attempt, but few people know who. even those involved in the rebel group know little about how it functions.

anyway the central plot is that this one woman (red) is helping with the revolution by listening to her colorless friend, who is helping locate large sources of positive energy. the problem is that the only sources really left are in dangerous places that most colorless people can't reach - the good news is because they've gone undisturbed, they're very powerful. so the red lady leverages the skillsets of her other-color friends to collect these. this includes shit like cutting power to entire quadrants of the yellow offices, lacing their food with drugs, and uploading propaganda to every screen. in the commune, they are freeing prisoners, rounding up children, and setting off smoke in critical places.

if you guessed the skull in green is a critical source of joy energy, you'd be right.

idk what happens after that i woke up ✌️

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nordleuchten · 6 months

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24 Days of La Fayette - Day 4

This portrait is again one of my favourite pieces of La Fayette (I must be careful to save at least one more favourite of mine for the 24th …) although it employs a stylistic device that I do not necessarily like when it comes to La Fayette. But more on that later.

Portraits in Revolution, Works by Thomas Sully, Marquis de La Fayette, 1825-1826 (12/04/2023).

This is a portrait of La Fayette by American artist Thomas Sully. He first painted an oil study as a preparation for the full length portrait seen above. As you can see, the study does not look particularly like the painting from Scheffer (Day 2). That is because La Fayette actually sat for Sully – sort of. La Fayette was received on September 8, 1824, just two days after his 67th birthday, in the Independence Hall in Philadelphia. It apparently was quite the evening. The city officials later approached La Fayette and asked for his consent to commission a painting of him by Thomas Sully. La Fayette agreed, but his busy schedule demanded that Sully followed him to Washington where the study was painted. The actual painting was finished in 1826 in Philadelphia – La Fayette left America in 1825, never to return and so he never saw this painting with his own eyes.

A short compositional overview of the work:

In the study, Lafayette stands on the north apron of Independence Square before a pillar of an arch, designed by architect William Strickland after the triumphal arch of Septimus Severus in the Roman Forum. The prop was covered with allegorical figures and statues which Sully recorded in a pen and wash sketch, but which he eliminated from the study and final portrait, calling attention instead to his subject. Through the arch, the viewer sees Lafayette’s admirers crowding the windows and roof of Independence Hall. Flags billow from poles along the balustrade while mounted and standing members of one of his escort troops, the Washington Grays, are in the mid ground. Wearing a black suit with white shirt and collar and a black cape lined in red satin held loosely in place by red and gold tassels, Lafayette gazes into the distance, not at the viewer. Sully has given the Marquis a neo-classical oval face and his toupee of close-cropped hair a reddish cast. His proper left arm beneath the cape is akimbo adding mass and strength to his body and his gloved hand holds his right glove that he removed to hold a top hat and cane. The Marquis’ face is unlined, belying the effects of time and gravity.

Lafayette College, Lafayette College Art Galleries, Thomas Sully, Lafayette, study for 1824-1826 (12/04/2023).

As you can see, there is a lot of symbolism and Sully clearly had a very clear picture in mind that he want to paint of La Fayette. The portrait is extremely flattering – La Fayette does not look like a 67 year old that had been in prison for many years, that had seen war and revolution, that had been in exile, lost his wife and a child. He looks fresher, younger and more energetic. Perhaps the artistic liberty taken here is best explained like this:

Sully portrays Lafayette not as he appeared on that September day, but as he might appear in Elysium with his fellow warriors.

Lafayette College, Lafayette College Art Galleries, Thomas Sully, Lafayette, study for 1824-1826 (12/04/2023).

I normally have objection to putting people on pedestals. La Fayette was not young anymore, he was ageing, and I think he earned himself the right to look old. He lived through a great many monumental changes and events; he survived what many others had not survived – there is no shame in being or looking old! But I also have to say that I do mind so much with Sully’s portrait as I normally do.

There is one other thing that always makes me smile when looking at this painting – I can name three paintings from the top of my head where La Fayette wears the same or a very similar outfit.

#24 days of la fayette #marquis de lafayette #la fayette #french history #american history #history #art #thomas sully #1824 #1826 #tour of 1824/1825 #triumphant tour #lafayette college

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houseboatisland · 3 months

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(The current national flag. Blue represents freedom and the surrounding sea. White represents peace. Red represents blood shed in pursuit of the other two. The crow is the national bird. The pen, deliberately similar to a spear, represents expression and its power. Throughout the flag are homages to Wallund’s historic allies: the United States and France. The eccentric President at the time of its adoption in 1800, Jean-Guilliame Penn, contributed the sun to the design because he worried the bird “would shiver without.”)

Wallund, officially the Liberal Republic of Wallund, is an island country situated in the North Atlantic Ocean roughly southeast of Iceland and northwest of Ireland. Its capital and largest city is Silverburn, which had its origins as a trading post. The country’s population in January 2024 stood at 51.2 million. There is no official language, but English, French and Spanish are the three principally spoken. The Wallundic national character has been described as “a fierce, common, instinctive determination to better mankind, make things, and overfeed their guests at dinner.”

The nation threw itself into the arms of the Industrial Revolution at that era’s dawn and has since remained a manufacturing hub. The country has infrastructure galore and its railway system has been noted for its “delightfully orderly chaos.”

More on that in future.

#houseboat’s writing #wallund #wallund universe

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ereana · 5 months

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Alhaitham X Cyno - The nightmares are just an illusion. I’m really here

The return of dreaming had caused quite a stir in Sumeru, not as big as the revolution against the sages and the subsequent chaos of the aftermath but still noticeable. Men and women who had never crossed the border suddenly found themselves transported to worlds they hadn’t visited since they were young children.

Soon enough discussions about dreams filled the air of the city and surrounding villages. Clubs were set up, debates held and several projects were planned in light of this new ability as the scholars of the Akademiya sought to do what they always did: understand, learn, and master. It was their job as custodians of wisdom to venture forth into the unknown and seek answers.

Which was all well and good but if Alhaitham had to read one more poorly written research proposal about the ‘ineffable mysteries of dreams’ he was going to do something rash. Sumeru had survived one coup against the sages so logic held that it could survive one more, especially as the experience was still fresh

The Acting Grand Sage — and if anyone tried to remove the word acting from the title he wasn’t averse to taking them aside for a long stern discussion about his thoughts on the matter — sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He closed his eyes as he started to pen out a response that if a subject was truly ineffable i.e. too great or extreme to be expressed or described in words then it made for a very poor choice of research topic as language was a rather key component in explanations.

It seemed that the uncertainty running through the halls of the institution had yet to fade even six months after Azar and his ilk were cast out. People were unsure about putting forth any new idea and overcompensated by dressing it up in increasingly flowery and perfunctory language that only irritated the man they hoped to impress. If Alhaitham were to guess he would say that they had jumped on the fact that he was a Haravatat graduate and trying to impress him by sounding either overly complicated to hide the simplicity of their idea or jarringly poetic to disguise the fact that they really knew nothing about what they were proposing.

He sank back against the chair and cast a look around his temporary office that was too big to run efficiently. From the eyesore that was the glowing blue bauble to the whirring of the elevator it was truly an uncomfortable place to actually work in, unlike Azar who had preferred to use the space in his attempts to intimidate or awe any visitors summoned to see the Grand Sage.

There is only one thing that makes this job worthwhile, Alhaitham thought quite decidedly. Perhaps he would have felt guilty that the thing in question wasn’t duty to his country or devotion to his archon but that would have been a pointless waste of energy so he didn’t bother. The thing in question wasn’t even a thing, and would be insulted to hear himself described as such.

Alhaitham’s gaze dropped back to the papers on his desk now covered with his own handwriting in glaring red ink. He couldn’t help but frown as he read over the proposal one more time even though he had no trouble understanding the contents after the first glance.

For all the excitement about dreams there was very little talk about what to do if they weren’t fantastical or pleasant as his own experiences could attest.

Later that night

Sand everywhere, pouring down from the sky itself.

The sun was a red burning orb hanging above that seared his skin.

Cries. Screams. Shouts.

Too loud. Too much.

There was blood on his hands, dripping down to the rising sand that swallowed him slowly. Red droplets that mixed with infinite grains as his very essence was absorbed by the endless desert.

His ears rang with the voices of thousands. Blame. Guilt. Please.

The sun was no longer a sun, it was an eye. A single eye that glared down at him accusingly from atop a stone monument.

An empty throne.

A broken crown.

Pain and fear were all he knew. There was no logic or rationality here in the depths of this place. Only raw emotion that tore at his mind until it threatened to shatter him into a thousand pieces. Forever lost amongst the endless dunes.

—thm.

Crackling lightning. Fangs flashed as the scent of ozone filled the air.

—ke up.

Vivid purple and deep gold and— no, no! They were fading, leaving him alone in this tomb to rot for eternity.

“Haitham!”

Alhaitham woke up gasping for breath. The only thing that prevented him from falling off the bed in his panic was the strong arm of his companion holding him steady amidst his fear. The sound of his racing heart echoed in his ears like a drum as he greedily sucked in mouthfuls of air. He felt the remnants of a scream die in his throat as his skin itched with the remembrance of sand pressed against him in all directions.

“Easy there.”

That voice.

Ah.

He was safe.

“I have you.” The arm around his waist tightened in reassurance. “Listen to me. I’m here. I’m real.”

Alhaitham slumped down and turned his head to meet Cyno’s worried eyes; that beloved red colour loosening the vice on his throat as he let himself collapse against Cyno’s side. Cyno continued to speak to him in that calm even voice of his that rang pleasantly in his ears, the warmth of Cyno’s body grounded Alhaitham to the present and eventually his heartbeat returned to its usual pace under the quiet care of his general.

“Another one?” Cyno asked quietly, and what a sight they must make; the two most powerful men in Sumeru fiercely clinging to each other for comfort.

Alhaitham grunted an affirmative too tired from the terror to properly respond. He didn’t need to look at Cyno to picture the frown on his face, they’ve had this conversation more than once and he’s come to the realization that Lord Kusanli will get involved eventually either through his own request or Cyno’s own brand of stubborn protectiveness.

That was an argument for the morning.

“I have you.” Cyno said once more.

“I know.”

#genshin impact #haino #cytham #cyno #alhaitham #my writing

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imkillerbae · 11 months

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Found an old Detroit: Become Human RK900/Reader WIP from 2022 that I'm never gonna finish.

Might as well post it here. I give anyone permission to continue this, just as long as you give me credit, reblog this then tag me. I'm not active in that fandom anymore. Don't feed it into AI though or else im throwing hands.

(Sidenote: I was pleasantly surprised how well this was written, so much so that I wanted to post it despite being unfinished)

Late Night Blues

There was a cold chill that hung in the air this night at the DPD. The piercing feeling struck your nose every time it sucked in air, followed by a grunt or a huff after. Flipping through the case files, you trace your finger along the lines of text with quick but careful swipes. Your shoes tapping against the floor was all that was heard at the empty office, devoid of living breathing life.

A serial arsonist was out on the loose in the streets of Detroit, targeting android owned businesses and known personalities. Dragging with it were unknowing victims. Just recently, 4 children. Three with third degree burns. One, an android child, dead.

And the bastard isn’t stopping there.

The DPD has been on different leads, all cutting off or twisting on itself until every detail became too contrived to connect, and then they were back to square one. You were growing frustrated, your neck tenses up, and you break the pencil you were holding. Just great.

“Fuck.” You cursed quietly, dragging your palms over your forehead up to your scalp, groaning as you dip onto your desk. The bastard left a note in one of the crime scenes, mockingly. It was in human handwriting, irregular. In blue blood, they wrote: “More blood is spilled, red or blue, it doesn’t matter, until all androids are destroyed. God bless Detroit.”

The note was lodged inside the mouth of an android, soaked in red and blue blood. The head wasn’t attached to its neck. Ripped off hastily.

You sucked in a breath and gritted your teeth. You’re no newbie to gruesome crime scenes, but it was more of the motive that made your skin crawl. The android revolution had been a year ago and humans and androids have been living in peace since then for the most part. How come shit like this still happened?

Standing up abruptly from the flood of blood up to your ears and temples, you slap the pencil holder you had across the room, knocking the chair behind you. “For God’s sakes…” You grit your teeth as the chair clashes against the walls with a loud squeak. This arsonist bitch is slippery and I can’t seem to get a grip, you thought. You don’t realize that the pen holder doesn’t drop to the floor but was instead caught by steady, ice cold hands.

“Detective.” His heavy set but cool voice echoed in the bullpen, and you whip your head to his direction, the grimace still carved into your face against the clinical white lights of the office. Your eyes climb up his torso, white and black jacket waving as he walked towards you. His cold gray eyes burning into yours. He tilts his head as if questioning your look. You found yourself doing the same.

“RK900. What are you doing here?” You sniffed, the cold air painfully stinging your nose. He stops walking, that neutral expression greeting you. “I should be asking you that question, detective. It’s 2 in the morning. You should be resting.” He says coolly, analyzing your pen holder, fingers wrapped around the puny little cylinder. He then looks at you, and you feel the need to shield yourself from those glass oculars. “It is not healthy for you to stay up this late. Your shift is in 3 hours.”

RK900, or Nines, as Gavin affectionally (haphazardly) named him, entered the force just recently. As recent as a week ago. You hadn’t been in the office when he was sent to the DPD, so you didn’t have a chance to look at him more carefully.

Now was his grand reveal to you.

You’ve never talked before. You’ve never even heard his voice this clearly. He sounded a lot like Connor, just with a broader and lower pitch than you were used to. Taller, broader, almost beastlike in stature. And a certain aura that would make anyone uncomfortable if they were alone with him. He continues to stare at you while you collect your thoughts, blinking in uncannily long intervals, setting down the container slowly. You didn’t like being stared down on one bit.

Clearing your throat, you grab the stress ball on your desk and squeeze, turning to grab your chair, sitting back down. You lean back, trying to calm down. “I’m working.” You simply say, hoping he would go away. You squeezed and squeezed as your feet tip tap below your desk, but he doesn’t go away. Finally, you look up at him again, and you see those icy gray eyes, burning into your soul. “Could you please leave me to do my work? Why are you active right now, you’re supposed to be in stasis.” You say as a matter of faclty. Unlike Connor, Nines didn’t have a home or an apartment to live in. You didn’t know if it was his choice or not, since by Android Law, he could own an apartment with the money he earns. So he would instead reside in the repair room, in stasis or simply just there. Just standing blankly.

You didn’t like thinking about what androids had in place of sleep. It creeped you out that they weren’t capable of sleep or being tired for that matter. They looked so human, and yet they weren’t.

“You are sleep deprived. Leading to more stress than you currently have. I suggest you go home, and you’ll have at least 2 hours of sleep. I advise against staying up too late this often.” He deadpans, no concern in his eyes, but it was present in his voice. He was mimicking empathy, something that RK900s were programmed to do. Or at least you heard.

“Are you my nurse?” You ask sarcastically. “No.” He replies simply to your surprise. You scowl at him, huffing “then don’t tell me what to do. Go back to the basement or something.” In return, he raises an eyebrow. “Do you think being out of shape will help you form more reliable conclusions in the investigation? Seems counterintuitive. Don’t you think?” He asks you, and you realize he’s trying to gaslight you out of your chair. You raise your eyebrow back at him, twisting your chair to face him fully. He doesn’t move.

“Don’t tell me how to do my job. My health is none of your business.” You snapped at him, doing your best to intimidate the most advanced android Cyberlife has ever built. Maybe this is why Gavin can’t stand this prick. And he’s the most insufferable cop you’ve ever known.

From his perspective, Nines was not at all intimidated. In fact he was surprised by your stubbornness despite your current drowsy state. He wondered how you would be like in your full potential, with a good night’s sleep.

He hides his hands behind his back, showing vulnerability. “Oh, but in fact, it is.” He sort of says the truth, because in reality, you were just one among the sea of humans he has to attend to. He felt nothing, couldn’t feel anything, for anyone, after all.

“You are not making the optimal decisions in your current state. You are a danger to yourself and Detroit Police property.” He stated, eyeing the pen holder. “It will not benefit the investigation for you to be working with a clouded and tired mind. I hope you understand.” He sees your teeth through your skull, gyrating. Your stress levels were increasing. The stress ball in your hands were bound to burst in any moment. He should ask for it before it bursts in your hand. “What the fuck is your problem? I could’ve done so much work right now if you just left me here. Are you trying to piss me off? Because it’s not exactly lullabying me to sleep.” You stood up, tilting your head to the side, as if mocking him.

His LED shines amber for a split second, blinking. You were showing a posture of aggression, and he immediately thought of a way to disarm you or disable you from hurting yourself. He still wasn’t used to all the personalities in the office, and it didn’t help that this was his first meeting with you; a heated conversation of all things. He could only go off of your body movements and temperament. He didn’t understand why you had to work this hard for an arson case. Fires happen more often that it is broadcasted in the news, and this one targeted his own kind. It didn’t seem logical for you to pour in so much attention to it.

“It is in your best interest to rest, detective. I wasn’t intending to be inflammatory in any way. I am only concerned for your—” Before he could finish, the stress ball you held came flying toward his face, and he narrowly avoids it, tilting his head to the side. Before you could retract your hand, he pulls it up towards him, making you flinch. “Don’t give me that programmed speech of yours. I don’t give a shit about what you think. A child died today, and I’m not going to sit around and let it happen again!” You yelled pulling your hand away from his grip, but it was no use fighting a 250 pound sack of shit bolts and plastic.

“Please stop.” He says, eyes narrowing on your figure. He didn’t want to hurt you or leave you to hurt yourself. “Let go! You fucking— agh!” You groaned in his grip, thrashing and pushing him with your other hand. With no other way of calming you down with words, he instead used force to subdue you.

“Agh—!?” You yelped as he grabbed your shoulder with his other hand and pushed you abruptly against the cubicle wall, the impact of your back against it almost knocking the wind out of you. He caught himself by surprise, he was still getting used to his strength. He cursed under his breath but kept his composure despite his LED blaring red, flickering. “Calm down.” He breathed in sync with you, a calming tactic. He watched and mimicked your chest movement.

Your breath hitched and your neck tensed. “Agh— what the fuck?” you grumbled, trying to thrash, but instead your eyes land into his, almost half lidded. Your breath then started to mimic his, slow deep ones that stretched your diaphragm. His face softened and nodded to you, trying to get you to respond. You were speechless at the moment, being held down by him. Inhumanly strong, and capable of breaking you if you so much as moved your foot the wrong way. But at the same time, gentle.

“I didn’t mean for this to end this way. I’ve only met you and haven’t assessed your personality yet. But I will not let you hurt yourself. Please, let your guard down. I won’t hurt you. I promise.” He says, nodding again. After a few moments, you nod back, and slowly, you drop your hands to your sides. They hang limply at your sides.

He knows that you will eventually fall into a state of catatonia, and before you could, he steps off and guides you to your chair. You drop like a heavy rock against cold and still waters. “I apologize for being pushy. But I mean it when I say that it will compromise the case if you work in such a poor state.” He reasons gently, holding back his hands behind him. You don’t say anything.

“I believe you’ll be able to ask the Captain for an LOA—"

“Like that’s going to help catch this guy.” You rebut, exhaling deeply. “Red or blue, blood is spilled across the streets of Detroit. Burnt offices… schools…can you imagine living in constant fear of being hostaged just to suffocate on smoke?” You let your emotions spill, eyes watering. “That android kid… he was the kid of a couple who couldn’t have their own child. He was just 3.” You hissed to yourself, leaning against the cold desk.

(It ends here.)

#dbh connor x reader #dbh fanfic #dbh imagine #rk900 x reader #nines x reader #connor x reader #detroit: become human #dbh #nines #dbc rk900 #rk900

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