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pavardscherie · 1 year

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fluff with pedri?? maybe dad pedri at camp nou?? 🤷‍♀️🙈

pairing pedri x f! reader

summary: you visit camp nou with your two year old son and pedri shows him how to own the pitch.

izzy‘s non-sense talk: okay, this killed me. have my child, please. i can only imagine him being such a great dad. hope you like it! and thank you for the request!

when the culers bought their tickets to the game, they expected a win from the team, they loved so dearly. what they did not plan on, was seeing a fan favorite midfielder in his most vulnerable state. on the pitch, when the minutes ticked away, pedri owned the game. dribbling out the enemies, finding the loopholes and adding assist after assist to his record.

the clear win spread happiness through camp nou, the individual players celebrated with the culers, clapping and singing the hymns they created. while most of them were occupied by the non-stopping cheering, pedri snuck away from the team to greet his two year old son, paulo. it was the first visit to camp nou, the little boy would remember. after all, he was a weekly guest when he was only a couple of months old.

pedri always tried his best to keep paulo‘s face out of the media, and hidden from the annoying photographers. this time, it was very different. the little hand disappeared in pedri‘s calloused palm, leading the two year old towards the empty goal. a football in his free hand, the midfielder wanted to show off the brilliance of his son to the culers and his mates.

paulo tried to hide himself behind his father‘s leg, the large crowds much scarier when standing in front of them than being in the middle of it. and as if the scene was planned and prepared, a couple of left over teammates started to shush the culers with their hands to allow paulo a perfect, and fearless first appearance in front of the crowds.

lewandowski has done it with his kids, showing them to the world with a proud smile plastered on his face while celebrating another win, another two goals he scored with them. but pedri has always been more protective with his son, always trying to keep foreign people far away from him.

pedri saw how much paulo imitated his father at home, trying to dribble the ball with his little feet, and outplaying you in the living room. and this time, the midfielder wanted to give his son the real chance to feel the cheering of the fans, the loud clapping and the hymn echoing through the stadium.

sharing smiles with his teammates, pedri led the little boy towards the white point in front of the goal. shooting a penalty was easier with no goalkeeper, but ter stegen immediately took his place in front of the net with a wide smile. obviously, he would not catch the ball, no matter how easy it would be.

crouching down beside his son, he whispered little hints about the goalkeeper‘s habit‘s into his ear, earning an understanding nod from paulo. „do it like pepi.“ you shouted from the sideline, clapping your hands together for your little everything. a small exemplar of pedro, the hair as black as charcoal, the sun-kissed tan a mixture of you and him. dressed in his own little jersey with ‚gonzalez‘ written on the back, paulo took a couple of steps back and showed ter stegen his tongue with a smile.

a signature gesture, a celebration gesture his father once made before pedri potter was born. truly exactly like the proud father, dressed in the barcelona kit with the number eight on the back, who stood beside his son with a wide smile. pride glistened in the curve of his mouth, and even tears gathered on his waterline, seeing the grown up little guy with his two years. paulo was everything pedro wanted after meeting you, and falling deeply and madly in love.

running forward, paulo kicked the ball with all his strength, watching with big, brown eyes and expectation. the ball jumped once, jumped twice, and ter stegen fell in the right direction but way too slowly and it rolled over the line. paulo could not believe what was happening, raising his hands in the air and running straight to his father, who watched proudly.

behind ter stegen, the culers cheered loudly, shouting pedris name but clapping for paulo‘s goal. the midfielder reached out for his son, picking him up in his arms with a wide smile. „did you see? i scored a goal just like you do!“ paulo boomed with happiness, giggling between the words.

„yes, yes, you did.“ pedri encouraged the little boy in his arms, his own world, he held tightly. „you just did it much better than pepi ever could.“

from the sidelines, you had your palms pressed to one another, the side of your fingers against your lips. pedri has been a good father before paulo was even born. always so caring, always so loving towards you and the growing belly. it was more than you could have imagined the night, you met the midfielder and engaged in a conversation.

the man you loved, who pressed a chaste kiss to the crown of paulo‘s hair. the little boy that looked exactly like his father, and would grow into such a great person as well. it was perfect.

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estapa-edwards · 1 month

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UNEXPECTED - R. MCGROARTY

paring: rutger mcgroarty x fem! reader

word count:3k

requested? no

warnings: use of y/n.

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I never thought I'd find myself in this situation. Of all the people in the University of Michigan, why did it have to be Rutger McGroarty? I mean, the guy was a hockey legend, scoring goals left and right on the ice and having his face plastered all over campus posters. But off the ice? Let's just say, we were like oil and water.

It all started in Professor Williams' Advanced Statistics class. We were assigned a semester-long project that would contribute a significant portion to our final grades. The catch? We had to work in pairs, and Professor Williams, in his infinite wisdom, decided to pair me up with Rutger. Great.

I slumped in my seat, trying to disappear into the lecture hall's worn-out upholstery as Professor Williams announced the pairings. When he finally called out, "Y/N and Rutger McGroarty," I felt like the entire room turned to look at me, probably to see my reaction. And what was my reaction? Pure dread.

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The first meeting was a disaster. Rutger strolled in wearing his Michigan hockey team jacket, a smug grin plastered on his face as he tossed his bag onto the table. "So, statistics, huh? Should be easy," he remarked, barely looking at the project guidelines I had painstakingly printed out.

I shot him a skeptical look. "Easy for you, maybe. I'm not exactly a math whiz."

He chuckled, "Don't worry, I'll handle the numbers. You can handle... whatever it is you're good at."

I rolled my eyes. "Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence."

As the weeks passed, our project meetings evolved into something entirely unexpected. Rather than focusing solely on statistics and data analysis, our time together became a battleground of differing opinions and clashing personalities. Rutger, with his competitive spirit, always seemed eager to take the lead, often making decisions without even glancing in my direction.

One evening, as we were deep in discussion about our data collection methods, Rutger leaned over the table, his eyes locked onto mine with a mischievous glint. "You know, Y/N," he said, a playful smirk playing on his lips, "I think we should use my method. After all, it's tried and tested."

I raised an eyebrow, not amused by his arrogance. "And what about my method? Have you even considered it?"

He chuckled softly, leaning even closer, his voice low and flirty, "Teamwork? I thought you were just here to witness my brilliance."

I groaned internally, rolling my eyes at his audacity. How had I ended up with such an arrogant project partner?

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During another one of our study sessions, tensions reached a boiling point. We were deep in a heated debate about the interpretation of our data, and Rutger's competitive nature was once again on full display. He suddenly stood up, towering over me with his imposing hockey player physique, making the small study room feel even more cramped.

"I still think my approach is better," he declared, his tone dripping with confidence and assertiveness.

I let out a deep sigh, trying to keep my frustration in check. "Rutger, can you please just listen to what I'm saying? This is a group project, remember? We're supposed to work together, not against each other."

He smirked, his eyes locking onto mine as he leaned down to my level, his face mere inches from mine. The audacity of his flirty demeanor in the midst of our disagreement only added to my irritation.

"Oh, I'm listening, Y/N," he said, his voice low and teasing, "I'm just waiting for you to see things my way."

I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks as I pushed my chair back, creating some much-needed distance between us. "Unbelievable," I muttered under my breath, shaking my head in exasperation.

Rutger leaned against the table, his smirk never wavering. "Come on, Y/N," he coaxed, his tone playful, "Admit it, you're starting to see the brilliance of my ideas, aren't you?"

I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the fluttering in my stomach caused by his relentless flirting. "Rutger, this isn't a game. We need to work together and find a solution that we both agree on."

He chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Alright, alright, I'll try to be more open-minded," he conceded, though the playful glint in his eyes suggested he was far from giving up on his competitive stance.

As we continued to work on our project, Rutger suddenly changed the subject, "Hey, Y/N, are you free this Friday night?"

Caught off guard by the sudden change in topic, I looked up from my notes, "Um, yeah, why?"

Rutger's smirk returned, his eyes twinkling with excitement. "Great! How about coming to one of my hockey games? It's a big one, and I'd love for you to be there."

I hesitated for a moment, surprised by his invitation. "I... I don't know, Rutger. I'm not really into hockey."

Rutger leaned in closer, his flirty demeanor returning full force. "Come on, it'll be fun! Plus, you get to see me in action. Who knows, you might even become a fan."

Despite my reservations, I couldn't help but feel intrigued. Rutger's passion for hockey was evident, and the idea of seeing him play, seeing a different side of him outside of our intense study sessions, was tempting.

"Alright," I finally conceded, a small smile playing on my lips, "I'll come to your game."

Rutger's face lit up with a triumphant grin. "Great! You won't regret it, I promise."

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The rest of the week flew by, and before I knew it, Friday night had arrived. I found myself at the university's ice rink, surrounded by enthusiastic fans wearing Michigan's colors and cheering for the team. The atmosphere was electric, with the excitement palpable in the air.

As the players took to the ice for warm-ups, I spotted Rutger, effortlessly gliding across the rink, his focus and determination evident. I had to admit, seeing him in his element was impressive. His skill and passion for the game were undeniable, and I found myself getting caught up in the excitement of the atmosphere.

Just as the game was about to begin, Rutger glanced up and spotted me in the stands. A wide smile spread across his face, and he waved enthusiastically in my direction. I waved back, feeling a warm flush of pride at his acknowledgment. It was a small gesture, but it meant a lot to me.

My friends, who had accompanied me to the game, noticed Rutger's friendly wave and looked at me with surprise. "Wait, did Rutger just smile and wave at you?" one of them asked, her eyebrows raised in disbelief.

I chuckled, nodding in response. "Yeah, I guess he did. He asked me to come tonight."

My friends exchanged amused glances, clearly intrigued by the unexpected turn of events. "Wow, Y/N," another friend teased, "I didn't know you and Rutger had become so chummy. What's next, joining the hockey fan club?"

I laughed, rolling my eyes at their playful teasing. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. I don't even like him like that."

My friends exchanged knowing glances, clearly amused by my defensive response. "We never said you liked him like that," one of them teased with a smirk.

I felt my cheeks heat up, realizing I might have been a bit too quick to clarify. "Well, I just meant... you know," I stammered, trying to find the right words. "He's a good teammate and all, but it's not like that between us."

Another friend chuckled, nudging me playfully. "Sure, sure, Y/N. Whatever you say. But we saw that smile on your face when he waved at you. Admit it, you enjoyed being his special guest at the game tonight."

I rolled my eyes again, but this time with a smile. "Okay, okay, maybe I had more fun than I expected. But that doesn't mean anything's changed between us. We're still just project partners."

My friends laughed, clearly unconvinced by my attempts to downplay the evening's significance. "Alright, Y/N," one of them said, holding up their hands in mock surrender. "We'll let you off the hook for now. But don't be surprised if we start seeing you at more hockey games in the future."

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After the game, as I waited for Rutger outside the locker room, I couldn't help but feel grateful for the unexpected experience. Despite our rocky start and the constant challenges we faced during our project, I had gained a newfound appreciation for Rutger and his passion for hockey.

When Rutger finally emerged from the locker room, still in his gear but looking exhilarated, he flashed me a wide grin. "So, what did you think?" he asked, his tone hopeful.

I smiled back, genuinely impressed. "You were amazing, Rutger. I never realized how exciting hockey could be."

His grin widened, his eyes shining with happiness. "Told you, you might become a fan."

As Rutger and I began to walk away from the locker room, we were approached by two of his teammates, Ethan and Mark, both still in their Michigan hockey gear. They wore playful grins, clearly having spotted our interaction earlier.

"Hey, Rutger," Ethan began with a teasing tone, nudging Mark with his elbow. "Is this your girlfriend?"

Mark joined in on the joke, winking at me. "Yeah, Rutger, you didn't tell us you were bringing your special someone to the game tonight."

Rutger chuckled, rolling his eyes at his teammates' antics but not seeming entirely surprised by their teasing. "Very funny, guys," he said, his tone light and amused. He glanced over at me, offering a reassuring smile. "Ignore them, Y/N. They just can't resist a good joke."

I laughed, brushing off the playful teasing with a wave of my hand. "Don't worry, I'm not taking it seriously. But thanks for inviting me tonight, Rutger. I had a great time."

Ethan and Mark exchanged knowing glances, their grins widening. "Anytime, Y/N," Ethan said with a teasing tone. "You're always welcome to come and cheer for us... and for Rutger, of course."

Mark nodded in agreement, his playful demeanor still intact. "Yeah, maybe next time we'll even get you to wear a Michigan jersey... with Rutger's number on it."

I chuckled, shaking my head at their persistent teasing. "We'll see about that," I replied, glancing over at Rutger, who was still smiling despite his teammates' antics.

As we continued to walk towards the exit, Rutger's playful demeanor returned. "I hope they weren't too much for you," he said, his tone light.

I shrugged, smiling back at him. "They're just having some fun. I can handle a little teasing."

Rutger grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Good to know. And thanks again for coming tonight, Y/N. I'm glad you enjoyed the game."

I nodded, feeling genuinely grateful for the unexpected experience. "Me too, Rutger. It was a great game, and you played exceptionally well."

His smile widened, and for a moment, the playful, competitive edge that had defined so much of our project seemed to fade away, replaced by a genuine warmth and camaraderie.

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The day had finally arrived to wrap up our project, and Rutger and I found ourselves in the university library, huddled over our laptops and notes. The tension in the room was undenible, not just from the looming deadline, but also from the lingering awkwardness between us.

As we worked on the final touches, I noticed Rutger's eyes drifting from his laptop to me more than a few times. Each time our eyes met, he quickly looked away, but I couldn't help but feel his gaze on me.

"Is everything okay, Rutger?" I finally asked, breaking the silence that had settled between us.

Rutger looked up, seeming caught off guard by my question. "Uh, yeah, sorry about that," he stammered, running a hand through his hair. "I was just thinking about the project, that's all."

I raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced by his explanation. "You seem distracted. Are you sure there's nothing else on your mind?"

Rutger hesitated, his gaze meeting mine once again. This time, he didn't look away immediately, and I could see a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. "Honestly, Y/N," he began, his voice softer than usual, "I've been meaning to say something."

I felt my heart skip a beat, curious and slightly apprehensive about what he was about to say. "Go on," I urged, setting aside my work to give him my full attention.

Rutger took a deep breath, his eyes searching mine. "I just wanted to say thank you," he said, his tone sincere. "Despite our differences and the challenges we've faced, you've stuck by me and put in the effort to make this project a success. I really appreciate it."

I was taken aback by his honesty, feeling a wave of relief wash over me. "You're welcome, Rutger," I replied, smiling genuinely at him. "Despite our disagreements, I think we made a pretty good team in the end."

Rutger grinned, his eyes lighting up. "Yeah, we did," he agreed, his gaze lingering on me a moment longer than necessary. "And for the record," he added, his tone teasing, "I wasn't just staring at you because you're distracting. I was also trying to figure out how to ask you out after we finish this project."

I chuckled, caught off guard by his candidness but also intrigued by his confession. "Oh, really?" I responded, raising an eyebrow playfully. "And here I thought you were just lost in thought about the project."

Rutger laughed, his grin widening as he leaned back in his chair. "Well, the project was definitely on my mind, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't also thinking about what comes next."

I felt a warmth spread through me, a mix of surprise and excitement at his bold admission. "Well, now that the project is done," I replied, my voice tinged with amusement, "I guess you have your answer, don't you?"

His eyes met mine, the playful glint replaced by something softer, more genuine. "I do," he said, his voice low and sincere. "So, what do you say, Y/N? Would you like to go out with me?"

I smiled, feeling a sense of anticipation and curiosity about where this unexpected connection might lead. "I'd like that, Rutger," I answered, my own voice softening.

Rutger's smile was infectious, his eyes shining with happiness as he stood up, extending a hand towards me. "Great," he said, his tone light but sincere. "How about dinner tomorrow night? We can celebrate our successful project and whatever this is."

I accepted his hand, standing up to meet his gaze. "Dinner sounds perfect," I replied, feeling a flutter of excitement at the prospect of getting to know Rutger beyond the confines of our project.

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I sat across from Rutger at a quaint French bistro nestled in the heart of downtown Ann Arbor. The restaurant had a warm and intimate atmosphere, with soft lighting, rustic wooden tables, and a hint of romantic charm in the air. It was our first official date since wrapping up our project, and I was both nervous and excited.

Rutger was in the middle of sharing a funny anecdote from one of his hockey games when the door to the bistro opened, and in walked Ethan and Mark. My heart sank as I saw them, and I could feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment. Of all the restaurants in Ann Arbor, they had to walk into the one where Rutger and I were having our date?

Ethan and Mark spotted us almost immediately and made their way over, their grins widening as they approached our table. Rutger looked up, clearly surprised to see his teammates, but his expression quickly turned amused as he saw Ethan and Mark's cheeky smiles.

"Hey, Rutger," Ethan began with a teasing tone, leaning against the back of an empty chair at our table. "Fancy seeing you here."

Mark chimed in, winking at me, "And with Y/N, no less. Who would've thought?"

Rutger chuckled, clearly unfazed by his teammates' interruption. "What are you guys doing here?"

Ethan shrugged, still grinning. "We knew you two would finally get together. Just wanted to see it with our own eyes."

I felt my cheeks grow even hotter, wishing the floor would swallow me up. Rutger, however, seemed to find the situation amusing.

"Alright, alright," Rutger said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "You've had your fun. Now, give us some space, will you?"

Mark chuckled, raising his hands in mock defense. "Alright, alright. We'll leave you two lovebirds alone. But remember, Rutger, you owe us for this."

Ethan nodded in agreement, pointing a finger at Rutger. "Yeah, don't forget it."

With one last round of playful teasing and laughter, Ethan and Mark finally retreated, leaving Rutger and me at our table, slightly flustered but also laughing at the unexpected turn of events.

Rutger shook his head, grinning at me. "I'm sorry about that, Y/N. My teammates can be a bit... overbearing."

I chuckled, feeling more at ease now that the awkward encounter was behind us. "It's okay, Rutger. It was bound to happen eventually, right?"

He smiled, reaching across the table to take my hand. "Absolutely. And who knows, maybe we should thank them. Their little interruption broke the ice, so to speak."

I laughed, feeling grateful for Rutger's easygoing nature and his ability to turn a potentially awkward situation into a moment of shared laughter.

"Maybe you're right," I agreed, squeezing his hand in return. "After all, it wouldn't be a true Michigan experience without a little interference from your teammates."

Rutger grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Exactly. So, where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?"

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me as I remembered the conversation we had been having before Ethan and Mark's unexpected arrival. "You were about to tell me about that overtime goal you scored last week."

Rutger's face lit up, and as he launched back into his story, I found myself once again captivated by his passion for hockey and his infectious enthusiasm. Despite the awkward interruption, our date was turning out to be more enjoyable than I had anticipated, and I was grateful for the unexpected twist that had made our evening even more memorable.

#rutger mcgroarty #rutger mcgroarty x reader #rutger mcgroarty imagine #michigan #umich hockey #hockey

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corrodedbisexual · 10 months

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Stranger Things 4 | Chapter Two | Vecna's Curse

Another scene from ep.2 because honestly that goddamn darkness won't let you appreciate the absolute brilliance that is Joseph's acting here.

💡Stranger Things scenes you can actually see (4/?)

Note: I have cut the traumatizing shots of Chrissy's death, as well as shots of Vecna killing the reporter boy I can't be bothered to remember the name of (in case you're wondering why the sound is jumping).

Also: now adding episode numbers to the posts & tagging as "SxxExx" so that a scene from a specific episode would be easier to find on my blog.

#stranger things #stranger things scenes you can actually see #misha-bawlins edit #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #dustin henderson #max mayfield #stranger things s04e02 #joseph quinn

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taki-yaki · 3 months

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Life with 7000 + 7 Vampire Spawn Headcanons

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader/Tav/Durge

So you released over 7000 vampire spawn into the Underdark and now you have to lead them with Astarion by your side. A snippet into day-to-day life in the Underdark

Since the poll tied, I'm just doing this in order of placement. The Batstarion headcanons will be coming soon. Also this is more life in the underdark focused on the spawn perspective but it does go in hand with Domestic In The Underdark.

Shortly after the defeat of the nether brain, you and Astarion return to the Underdark in an attempt to get the 7000 spawn under control.

You soon discover that most of the spawn are taking camp in the myconid circle, with the other 6 siblings and after an awkward long debate with the other spawn, Astarion becomes the unofficial/official leader of the group, whilst his siblings act as co-leaders and you as his right hand/partner/equal.

You start creating the haven, by taking up residency in an old abandoned fortress in the Underdark. Touches of comfort were added to the place through roomy living spaces and resources such as baths and beds.

In addition to a small community garden in the colony, which is filled with different safe mushrooms and fungi for some spawn to tend to, as a form of relaxation. Other similar activities are also made to do within the area.

Of course, to prevent the other spawn from seeing you as just a walking source of food, you have to apply garlic spray on yourself every so often to deter them from biting you.

Some spawns chose to disappear into the dark or return to their families, in hopes that they’ll still accept them for who they are, and others chose to embrace their more monstrous side preying on innocents which the Gur would usually deal with quickly before it got out of hand.

However, those who chose to create a new life for themselves, would come and stay in the haven.

With hosting so many blood-thirsty vampire spawn, it is required that the location of the haven must remain a secret to many. Despite this rule, Minsc always finds a way to visit you two in peace.

Astarion’s other siblings also assist with work on the colony, whether it be managing minor conflicts with the other spawn to Dalyria healing any spawn who may have come into contact with hazardous spores, cause regenerative healing isn’t going to fix that.

Working together with Dalyria and Lady Incognito’s notes, you work on creating potential cures for the spawn, from Liquid Night ointment made from moon flowers which gives spawn protection from the sun for a few hours acting as a form of sunblock to enchanted clothing that work for up to 8 hours before needing to be magically recharged again. These acted as temporary solutions but never full-term ones.

However, some spawns would enjoy their Underdark lifestyle and prefer to stay in the shadows. Some of these spawn would also lean into their vampiric nature by learning how to spider climb across the ceiling or transform into a bat through a lot of training.

Although many spawn would prefer to stick more to their mortal roots.

For main sources of food, are through raising Rothe to feed the vampire spawn, as well as boars to be bred to survive in the Underdark. Occasionally any hostile drow raiders would also try to attack, and they would be greeted by a ravenous pack of spawn ready to fight back swiftly.

Despite the number of enemies that are to be made in the Underdark, there are a few familiar faces who become allies to your cause. The myconids create a trade offer for you, in exchange for bringing hosts for their “children”, mainly through the fallen drow raiders, in return they offer to produce plants in their grove with rare medicinal properties.

Additionally, Blurg and Omeluum also help out, by mainly researching vampirism. By creating a research group through the Society of Brilliance, trying to study a long-term cure as well as their notes about the Underdark assisting as well into helping the haven thrive.

The Ulma Gur family also visits occasionally to gift herbs which assist in easing hunger pains and building restraints. They would also offer protection to the colony and are glad that some still wish to change their ways.

Occasionally some newbie Oath of the Ancient Paladins would try to be a wannabe hero and charge head-first into the colony, intending to bring balance to the natural order. They would usually be stopped by you or the Gur at first, explaining to them that they are just victims of torment, looking for a second chance at life.

To slay them in the name of an oath is to just crush all hope left in them. Some would be understanding. especially if you were an ex-oath of the ancient paladin, then they might be more likely to listen to reason. and would leave, whilst others would be too stubborn and the gur would have to deal with them.

Over time, some spawn would choose to leave after feeling that they could live self-sufficiently or that they have found someone who they would love to spend their (undead) life with.

The spawn grow to enjoy your company and are thankful for how much you’ve done, especially the main 6 siblings for all giving them a second chance at life.

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Btw for those who don't know what night liquid is, it's an item from 3.5's Undead Libris Mortis, which gave undead-sensitive creatures, temporary protection from the sun for an hour. (but let's just say that they made a stronger batch for this). Also, I know this is less Astarion-focused, but the Batstarion headcanons will be more centred on our favourite vamp.

#astarion x tav #astarion x durge #astarion x dark urge #astarion x reader #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #headcanons #I would 100% recommend reading Libris Mortis though #lots of good info for rp as a vampire spawn as well

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emira-addams · 3 months

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Hazbin Hotel - Odette x Velvette - Juliet and Juliet in Hell

Chapter 01: Drunken Demons and Dancing Devils

Velvette tilted her head back.

Clouds of light, formed from hundreds of sparkling stars, adorned the deep red night horizon of hell with their scintillating shine. Drawn by magic, Velvette stared up at the far end of the horizon, up at the spherical shape of the heaven that towered above all their heads and hell. The milky soft glow of heaven was shimmering, its brilliance a blur.

Blazing flashes of laser light cut the horizon into thousands of chunks, chasing the stars and the reigning night away as the ground seemed to shudder beneath her feet. The bass of the deafening music made the surrounding air vibrate.

The Vees' lavish mansion was filled to the bursting with guests, drunken demons and dancing devils. Valentino was having a party in his honor after his latest films had won every award in every category at the annual film festival.

A satisfied smile graced Velvette's black lips as she hastily weaved her way through the dense crowds. Spotlights colored the makeshift dance floor in the living room a somber shade of red, while blue strobe lights flashed through the stuffy room.

Long shadows danced along the walls in euphoria. White fairy lights and glittering garlands wrapped along the chrome-colored railing of the open gallery, an illuminated disco ball spun under the ceiling and balloons hung everywhere. A fog machine added to the chaos. Huge speakers stood at the sides, music blared at full volume and the low infernal sound of the bass was earsplitting.

It smelled like a pungent mixture of cheap spirits, sweet smoke and salty sweat.

People were lounging on the expensive couches in the living room, laughing and chatting with each other. Kissing couples propped up against the walls, shoving their tongues down each other's throats and groping each other. An imp drew a straight line of suspicious white powder up his nose from the smudged glass of a hand mirror. As Velvette passed him, he held out a plastic bag to her with a grin, but she rejected it with a polite smile.

A number of different dishes had been set out on a long table. Fresh fruit was piled on top of each other and a chocolate fountain stood between white porcelain and several pastries. Some guests stuck fruit after fruit onto a wooden skewer, while other sinners dipped their bare fingers into the liquid chocolate.

Velvette quickly grabbed a handful of fruits and a cup filled to the brim and retreated to a corner with her phone in hand. Here and there she snapped a photo, every now and then she sipped the liquid in her cup and let her eyes wander over the party. Vox and Valentino performed the strangest and most soppy dance number, a truly embarrassing sight. Velvette's lips cracked into a smirk as she recorded the moment for eternity and the entire internet of hell with a snapshot.

She was just about to head back to the chocolate fountain when someone caught her attention out of the corner of her eye.

"Oh, shit..." she swore and managed to choke, some of her drink landing on her dress. "What's Carmine's fucking daughter doing here?" Velvette sneered, her face scrunched in irritation. "I swear, just the sight of her spoils my mood..." She quickly drained the last liquid from her cup, squeezed the plastic and marched with quick steps towards the bright blonde girl in the lab coat in the doorway. The floor shook under the soles of her boots as Velvette pushed her way through the dense crowds. Her eyes glistened with a mix between gloom and glee, her thoughts blurred between the neon lights in the wonderful feeling of immortality and melted like caramelized sugar. Her whole body tingling, while the effects of her drink kicked in.

Outside of a cautious glance exchanged back and forth within an Overlord meeting, Velvette had never shared a single word with Carmilla Carmine's eldest daughter, as Odette held her mother's opinion and Carmilla Carmine felt a very strict and stern disapproval towards the three Vees, especially Velvette, a disapproval towards their outrageous behavior and lack of respect as well as their irresponsibility and cocky self-confidence. They were silly brats who starved for attention at every given opportunity.

Velvette wanted to have some fun with her...

"What are you doing so far away from your home and your dear mommy? Are you lost?"

"What do you want from me?" asked Odette when Velvette approached her and blocked her path. She grimaced sourly.

Velvette attempted a wide grin. "Tell me, sweetie, how many times would I theoretically have to fuck you before I get a discount for your mother's weapons?"

"Never!" Odette replied as she studied Velvette from top to bottom in disgust. "As long as I'm in my right mind, I wouldn't even dream of it..."

"Really, you wouldn't? Too bad..." Velvette pouted. "Hey!" she shouted angrily when Odette tried to push past her, completely ignoring her. "May I know the reason why you're crashing this fucking party and being pretty fucking rude to the fucking host?"

"Excuse me..." muttered Odette nervously. She cautiously adjusted her glasses and plucked at the hem of her lab coat. "But I'm looking for my younger sister..."

"You have a sister?" Velvette played dumb, but then she noticed Odette's worried face. "It was just a joke, I’m sorry... But why would your younger sister be at my party?"

Odette sighed sourly. "Clara snuck out of the house. I have to bring her back before Mother notices our disappearance."

Velvette burst out laughing, but when Odette rolled her eyes in annoyance, she grew silent again.

"Clara!" Odette tried in vain to scream against the volume of the music.

Stunned, Velvette slapped her forehead, then took the desperate girl's hand. She immediately intertwined their fingers and felt Odette's sweaty palms. "Come with me, you dumb fucking girl…" she demanded of Odette as they made their way through the crowd.

“What are you doing?”

“Helping you to find your sister!”

The two of them found Clara near the chocolate fountain. A cup in her hand and a hypnotized face set, she clung to every single slurred word that came from Valentino's lips. A cloud of pink haze hovered over their heads as his tongue traveled up her arm.

"Oh, for fucking sake!" Velvette shouted, quickly letting go of Odette's hand. "This can't be real now..." She pounced on Valentino, grabbed her colleague harshly by his fur collar and pulled the clamoring moth away from Clara before his tongue could wander any further. "Are you fucking mental, Val?" she snarled furiously and shoved him away.

"Hey… Calm down, Vel!" Valentino defended himself. He snorted, wiped the dust off his robe and raised his hands apologetically. "I was just having a little fun with Carmine’s daughter. I didn’t think you would mind…," he claimed, shrugging his shoulders. "This girl could have been the next leading lady in some of my movies. I would have made her a star, any worthless freak in hell would have known her name," he gushed before leaving Velvette and heading back to Vox.

Velvette scowled at the moth, while Odette quickly pulled her younger sister into a relieved and smothering hug.

"O-Odette? W-What... What are you doing here?" babbled Clara. Clumsily, she tried to free herself from her worried sister's arms, but her balance swayed precariously and Odette and Velvette had to support her.

"I came to save you before our mother finds out that neither you nor I are in our beds in our safe home sleeping..." Together, she and Velvette dragged her sister back to the door.

Velvette casted a worried look at the clock. "You must hurry..." With every passing second, the light from the stars faded more, soon the night would be over.

"Thank you for your help!" Saying goodbye, Odette pressed a quick kiss to Velvette's cheek, the next moment she and her sister were out the door and gone from the party.

"Y-You are welcome..." stuttered Velvette, wide-eyed. She stared after her with a stunned stare as the heat rose up her face and the blush gathered in her cheeks. Suddenly, her heart began to do wild somersaults in her chest. “Fuck…”

Chapter 02:

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doodle-pops · 10 months

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Eönwë With An Architect Reader

Request: Greatings Mina The Magnificent! If I may... can I please request either a fic or headcannons with Manwe, Eonwe or Irmo (you can pick!) x reader were they are an architect. Have you ever seen the River of Light in London (the Thames) what if their s/o did that in their town or palace area? Do you think they’d like it? Oh! Oh! What if they surprise their Godly lover with it as a gift??? Thanks for taking the time to read and consider! 🙏🏻💙 have a nice day/night! - Anon

A/N: *takes a bow* Hi Hi! I decided to write about him having an architect s/o and you building something for him, a little gift. Enjoy!

·⊰ You were a famous architect under the tutelage of Aüle and known throughout Aman for designing some of the most lavish and outstanding projects. You were also known for participating in the early designs of the city of Tirion and Alqualonde in the earliest years.

·⊰ To say that Eӧnwё was not ecstatic to have you as a partner was a lie. He was always found hovering and touching all your gadgets in your study anytime he came by while you were working.

·⊰ Most of his favourite times are when you were constructing miniature models of your latest project, commissioned by one of the great Lords or High Kings, and he would come along to act as your little helper.

·⊰ Handing you your chisel and hammer, moulding clay, and even participating in painting the buildings and structures. The only thing he wouldn’t do would be carve or place the pieces together properly.

·⊰ Eӧnwё assumed it would be child’s play when he watched as you stuck the pieces of wood together and attempted to copy. Let’s just say that it was more difficult than he expected (he glued the wrong pieces together and left out important foundations).

·⊰ After realising that he wasn’t great with building, he stuck to painting the structures and handing you all your tools while sitting back and observing you work. Expect lots of questions, like ‘what got you into this?’ or ‘how did you know you wanted to be an architect?’.

·⊰ Eӧnwё does enjoy visiting you on the construction sites while you're working. He uses his ability to fly to take you on aerial tours so you can view your creation from above. In fact, he does this a lot for all of your creations, wanting to show you the view he has of your masterpieces.

·⊰ Know that he’s you’re number one hype man/maia. Even if there was another architect who was proving to be better than you, in his eyes, you were the best and no one could outshine your brilliance. He even boasts to his fellow Maiar about your skills. If you have an opening for a new project, he’ll invite his friends and others to support you.

·⊰ During his many years of courtship, he has picked up many new skills even if he wasn’t great in the beginning with them. Soon, he’ll be building models with you and not mismatching the pieces, even giving you innovative ideas for new projects.

·⊰ As his lover, Eӧnwё wasn’t aware of the benefits of dating an architect when he came to visit you one day for a date, and you instructed him to take you elsewhere. During your courtship, you had designed a fancy getaway cabin and garden for you both (mostly him).

·⊰ He’ll ask you to take him on a tour around the area and show him all the specialities you added to the design because you always have something extra up your sleeves. When you show him the lights and decorations you’ve added, Eӧnwё is beaming, and you can see it in his puffed-up feathers.

·⊰ He couldn’t believe that you would do something so wonderful and extraordinary for him. Know that he will make use of your gift and bring you along when he wasn’t alone time. You even built him a pool so he could wash his wings whenever he needed to preen, and you must help him.

·⊰ There would be lights running along a stream that leads into the pool where he'd clean off. He would choose to preen at night or take a wash off so he could witness the colourful lights and then get lost in them, forgetting his bath.

·⊰ Sometimes during the colour-changing show, you would see his feather ruffled and puffed up in a more relaxing manner while he's busy gazing at the lights. He looks like those cats staring at pretty lights.

Masterlist

Taglist: @eunoiaastralwings @noldorinpainter @ranhanabi777 @lilmelily @someoneinthestars @mysticmoomin @aconstructofamind @the-phantom-of-arda @rain-on-my-umbrella @singleteapot @wandererindreams @asianbutnotjapanese @justellie17 @justjane @silverose365 @bunson-burner @wisheduponastar @stormchaser819 @cilil @edensrose @ilu-stripes

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random-thought-depository · 5 months

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Brett Devereaux made an observation about Dune that I really like: that Paul Atreides and Feyd Rautha Harkonnen were probably raised with very similar values.

This isn't exactly a ship in the usual fandom sense of the word, but I think it'd be interesting to see this explored in an AU fanfic where Paul and Feyd Rautha somehow team up at the end of Dune.

I think what'd work really well for this is a scenario where Feyd Rautha somehow gets control over House Harkonnen and swears loyalty/vassalage to Paul, adding effective control over House Harkonnen to Paul's portfolio at the end of Dune.

I think that'd have really crunchy social and emotional dynamics that'd fit really well with the theme here. Paul has spent years hating the Harkonnens and seeking revenge on them for the death of his father and a lot of the surviving remnant of Paul's own house have pretty similar feelings, and now here's Feyd Rautha saying to Paul "The armies of my house await your orders, my lord," and Feyd and his Harkonnen buddies are now hanging out at Paul's court and hobnobbing with Paul and the rest of his court. If Gurney Halleck and Duncan Idaho are alive in this scenario I bet they'd hate this and there'd be some pretty tense moments when they have to collaborate with their Harkonnen opposite numbers.

Atreides and Harkonnen generals collaborating to plan the Jihad with kinda shitlib vs. MAGA chud vibe tension where the Atreides have thinking of themselves as the side of good as an important part of their self-image while the Harkonnens tend to be more casually bloodthirsty and sadistic but this is arguably more a difference in aesthetics than anything substantive, when crunch time comes they can put these cultural differences aside and collaborate surprisingly easily on shared goals because they're actually fundamentally similar people with fundamentally similar worldviews and values, molded by fundamentally similar institutions.

Feyd Rautha becoming one of Paul's closest subordinates and kind of his friend in a weird way cause they're actually fundamentally similar people and useful to each other.

I think Feyd is supposed to still be pretty young at the end of Dune, so this might work better if Paul is a bit less lucky in his campaign against the Harkonnens, delaying the events of the end of Dune by a few years but ultimately not preventing them, or something like that, IDK.

I think if I were writing this the closest I'd take this to shipping in the common fandom sense is Paul and Feyd end up kind of in a wife-loaning polycule with Irulan, though one that's asexual on Paul's side. Basically at some point Irulan and Paul have a conversation that's basically a more refined version of this:

IRULAN: "Hey, I'm tired of living a life of involuntary celibacy cause you need a political marriage to me but won't have sex with me because of your issues. Can you just wife-loan me to one of your right-hand men if you're gonna be so complicated?"

PAUL: "Fine, sure. The usual rules will apply: keep it on the down-low and don't get pregnant."

IRULAN: "Fine."

PAUL: "Did you have any candidates in mind? If not, might I suggest Utrecht or Hakim?"

IRULAN: "I AM NOT SLEEPING WITH AN UNBATHED DESERT BARBARIAN! ... Feyd is kind of hot, I guess... I'll take him!"

PAUL: "That arrangement would be perfectly acceptable to me. Pending Feyd's agreement, we have a deal. I'll discuss this matter with him tonight, after I've discussed with him the deposition of his house troops in the conquest expedition I'll be launching against the Megara worlds. I think he'll agree."

IRULAN: "Great!"

I have had one or two or three little ideas for a Dune fanfic but have never figured out what the plot would be. I suppose now if I ever actually write a Dune fanfic, it'll probably be about this premise.

I guess in a way it might be fridge brilliance that this didn't happen in the actual books, cause this is a lot like the relationship between Leto II and Farad'n at the end of Children of Dune and Farad'n reads to me as a mirror to Paul in the same way Feyd is, and the arc of the Dune novels up to God-Emperor of Dune is Leto II could do what Paul couldn't bring himself to do, so Leto II being able to co-opt Farad'n while Paul couldn't co-opt Feyd would fit with that.

#Dune #fanfic ideas

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chasingastar · 1 year

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you've got the antidote for me

Title: you've got the antidote for me at AO3 Author: Kandakicksass Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Harry Potter Rating: Mature Word Count: 20,730 Summary: When Harry Potter unintentionally severs their soulbond before it can fully form, Draco Malfoy resigns himself to a slow death and decides not to burden Harry with a soulmate he's made it very clear he doesn't want. He's never been selfless before, but for Harry, he can try.

My notes: From the moment I started reading, I fell in love with the narrative and its captivating storyline.

The author brilliantly portrays Draco as a self-sacrificing idiot, adding depth to his character and making him relatable and endearing. The soulmates AU element further enhances the emotional connection between the characters, making the story all the more intriguing.

What sets this particular story apart is its sheer brilliance. It has captivated me to such an extent that I have lost count of the number of times I have revisited it. The writing style is exceptional, the pacing is perfect, and the emotional depth of the characters is beautifully portrayed.

#drarry #drarry recs #genre: angst #post hogwarts #soulbound #harry x draco #status: completed

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youwouldneverbreakthechain · 9 months

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Working on a theory after a couple of Vol. 3 rewatches:

Essentially, the flaw in Rocket's design was the same as Batch 90's flaw. The High Evolutionary's plan was always doomed because his idea of a perfect race is one which is incapable of violence but still creates beauty through art and music, and that's inherently impossible.

To begin with, Rocket is a favorite of the High E, who explains to him that work on the prototype Humanimals is stalled because of their rage, noting that they're supposed to be "peaceful - like you" (emphasis mine).

Rocket, to all appearances, had the correct temperament. He was gentle, attentive, and most importantly, his obedience was absolute. He wouldn't even admit to enjoying music until he got permission. Paired with his cleverness, this made him exactly the kind of resident that the High E wanted for his perfect world, but he still was never meant to live there because he didn't have the right kind of body. The High E wouldn't care about Rocket's suffering but we can assume that he considered all that surgery inefficient.

So, the goal was to create a race that had a body like the Humanimals (which presumably reproduce on their own), but a mind like Rocket. But then Rocket solves the filtration problem and suddenly his genius has gone too far. I thought in my first watch that the High E decided at that point to execute Rocket because it damaged his pride to see his creation surpass his own intelligence, but there may be more to it. High E could have rationalized his way into taking credit for the idea, but an unpredictable element had just come up in the mind that he thought he had perfectly designed.

Rocket had taken a step from "useful" intelligence into creative genius, and all of a sudden, the meek little 89P13 was a threat. If his mind was allowed to continue its development, it might come up with any number of dangerous ideas: freedom, self-reliance, devotion to something other than its maker. Those are no big deal if they're limited to one caged raccoon, but Rocket's mind was supposed to be the blueprint for the perfect race.

Ordering Rocket's execution the very next morning was the logical next step, since the High E needed to know how he had made such a leap and couldn't get any answers by asking questions. He may have also been thinking he needed to get rid of the one subject who could potentially cause trouble in his lab - he even anticipated that Rocket, having discovered his own capability, was likely to set up an escape plan before the morning.

But with all this focus on Rocket's unique mind, the High E still never even considered the possibility that his creation could attack him. Quite an oversight, but then, until that very moment, Rocket had never considered that possibility either. His rage at Lylla's murder brought something completely new out of him, something which might otherwise have been dormant his entire life no matter how hard and lonely that life was.

I think it's significant that the block in making the Humanimals is rage. High E saw the problem as something being added to a mind whose natural state was peace (it looks like he even chose animal species that he perceived as friendly and harmless), but all along, that wrath was a part of Rocket too, as innate as his brilliance and inseparable from it.

When we see the "finished" Counter-Earth, populated by docile Humanimals who are smart enough to live their lives but don't question the order the High E imposed on them, I assume he's been working on it ever since Rocket's attack and this is the result that he originally thought he wanted. I mean, a 1980s cookie cutter suburb isn't my paradise, but I can buy that this is how he visualized his perfect world. By this time, though, he's aware that he fumbled in their making - note the new contempt for "rote memorization" - and he must know it had to do with the One That Got Away.

Certainly he's aware of Counter-Earth's decline, or he wouldn't have been so quick to give up on it when Quill shared his observations. The Humanimals mostly seem like good people (I'm still grieving for Vampire Bat Mom), but they'll never match the achievements of the original Earth. Something is missing.

So when Rocket resurfaces, it naturally follows that nothing else matters to the High E. The obsession isn't (just) about revenge; Rocket is the key to everything. He has the secret of what went wrong to make him disobey and attack, and also what went right that let him innovate an escape and then survive for years on his own.

High E is right about that, but he's dead wrong if he thinks he can learn the secret by dissecting Rocket's brain. It's been staring him in the face from the beginning but he's always refused to accept it: he didn't even have a hand in what makes Rocket special. Creative thought arises from the emotions of sentient life as God wills. We can nurture it or suppress it, but we can't engineer it.

Maybe Batch 90 was angry because they had been ripped away from their natural state and forced into a madman's game. Maybe they had a right to their rage.

Rocket became himself the day he learned to hate his maker, but he never stopped learning and growing, never stopped proving that he was more than what he was made for. In the end, he knows and we know exactly how violent he can be, and it's a story he shares with the entire human race of the real world.

He's offered revenge and he chooses peace. So can we.

#rocket raccoon #guardians of the galaxy #gotg vol. 3 #guardians of the galaxy vol. 3 #the high evolutionary #mcu meta #gotg meta #cripe but this got long

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blackjackkent · 3 months

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OK so.

The Chosen are dead. The Elder Brain awaits.

But first we will do 1236234523 sidequests. ^_^ This is reminding me of how, in BG2, we had the money for Imoen's rescue after about 4 quests but then just pretended we didn't for ages so Caden could help everyone in the whole world.

We currently have a number of open quests in the journal as it is:

Breaking into the House of Hope to retrieve the Orphic Hammer.

Going to Sorcerous Sundries for Gale's research and also to ask Lorroakan what he wants with Aylin.

Meeting up with Oskar again somewhere.

Helping Nine-Fingers before Roah completes her Absolute-orchestrated plot to have the Zhentarim turn on her.

Finding the rest of Dribbles' body.

Checking out the Hag Survivors Support Group somewhere in the Lower City.

Busting the group that's putting explosives in children's toys.

Meeting up with Omeluum at the Society of Brilliance.

Beating the shit out of Cazador.

Going to the House of Grief for Shadowheart.

Taking Wyll to see Ansur.

(Somewhat upsettingly, Karlach's personal quest is marked as entirely complete now, with the addendum: "We did as much as we could for Karlach's heart and helped her get revenge on Gortash. All she wants now is to see the city saved." :'( )

My current plan is to just start from the east side of the Lower City and slowly work my way westward, doing things as I come across them and doing my best not to miss anything.

This has the added benefit of saving the Surprise Jaheira Content for last for me to look forward to, since I'm told she has a personal quest of some sort on the west side of the city. So stay tuned for me to eventually freak out about that I guess. XD

#bjk plays baldur's gate 3 #hector carlisle

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nichenarratives · 7 months

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Hurricane Heller 19

A Niche Narratives Fanficiton.

last | first | next

19. Executive Decision

Calculations come as naturally to Mordecai as breathing; they flow from the mind to his hand effortless and steady as sharp eyes recapping the digits for mistakes, talented hand continually writing even as he recaps. Reduced to its purest form of values and percentages, numerals as written prose a poetry so few can appreciate despite its brilliance, the act of embezzlement is almost enjoyable.

It's early morning when Mordecai rests his aching hand and reaches for a cup of tea. Careful calculations stare back, each numeral inscribed in a secret ledger with exceptional care and precision, and he can't help but smile. He sips his Earl Gray, then cringes as cooled liquid fills his maw. Swallowing with a slight shudder, he sets the cup back on its saucer with a clink and withdraws his pocket watch, running his thumb over the engraved dust cover out of habit before clicking it open

Four in the morning, past bedtime, but he slips it back into his pocket without getting up.

It's been an evening well spent at least, even if he wasted a cup of perfectly good tea completing his plan. Leaning back in his study chair, Mordecai holds the ledger open and reads each line a final time, habitually proofreading his work even though he knows it's immaculate. Tired eyes skim each decimal point and graphite arch, flexing his left hand to ease the radiating ache spreading through fine fingers, but there's nothing to alter, no errant smudge to erase.

The plan - understated enough to slide beneath the nose of upper management who hate ledgers, yet lucrative enough to make the endeavor worth the risk - involves a little added effort spreading skimmed funds across all seven businesses in his sector. They'll be buried within legitimate costs, which should keep anyone who takes a passing interest from discovering the deeper ruse beneath. Even an investigation might overlook the hashed numbers, if the auditor is inexperienced.

After all, gross earnings vary wildly between businesses. A dog track can't be expected to rake in the funds of a casino. By skimming one percent off each business - in opposed to taking from the net earnings of all seven combined, as his wages usually are - he can hide those embezzled funds in lost or damaged sock, unexpected overheads and purchase orders, making the loss seem legitimate to untrained eyes.

While aware embezzlement is a criminal offense, Mordecai considers it a minor transgression after torture and murder, especially considering he's stealing from an organised crime syndicate. Since gangsters are also notorious for dealing with rats or betrayal personally and brutally, the extra effort to hide his laundering is necessary, to ensure he doesn't end up floating in the bay missing his head and fingertips.

Satisfied his work is flawless as always, Mordecai closes his ledger and retrieving a pencil, opens the top drawer of his desk. A quick insertion of the narrow implement into a small hole, carefully concealed at the inner-back corner, pops the false base in the drawer. The hidden compartment is barely deep enough for the ledger he slips inside, a loss of space indistinguishable to the roaming eye once the false base is in place. It's the perfect nook to hide his illegal calculations, but more so to conceal his theft.

Suddenly aware of a pain in his neck with a current fixation concluded, the tom rolls his shoulders and flinches when his collarbone twinges in complaint. He might only be twenty, but hours of hunching over desks every day is taking its toll on his body. Deceiving the Savage family for a year will almost certainly add to it, but it's a necessary sacrifice, like many of his career decisions to date, that could eventually alleviate an additional concern once completed.

Mordecai stands with his teacup in hand and heads for the kitchen, slippered steps muted on the bare floorboards. Mrs Kovitz sleeps soundly below, unaware of her tenant's nightly habits or the early morning returns. Mordecai would hate to have to silence the old widow should she become aware of his profession; she's a gentle soul, but thankfully also bright enough to mind her own business and keep to herself, so it is unlikely she'll ever fall into Savage's crosshairs.

Running the tap, the tom tips his forgotten tea down the sink before rinsing the delicate china, running to fingers around the inside to clear the leaf residue. The warm water pulls the scent of tea back anew, the weak smell of Earl Gray ticking his nose. It's a reminder of Sabbath, of rinsing their cups out after dinner and handing them to Esther to dry, the echoes of their mother's worsening cough muffled by floorboards.

Mordecai frowns, water overflowing from the cup unseen as his gaze glazes over. Mother is the reason for his foray into embezzlement. Namely, her declining health.

The last winter was cruel; frosts coated the windows, hung heavily on evergreens and sickened roads. Heating homes was difficult and caused excessive condensation to gather, misting outwardly chilly glass and encouraging mold to grow under old, peeling paint. A damp atmosphere, coupled with coal soot and woodfire smoke, wreaked havoc on their poor mother's chest. Her cough had swiftly worsened, resulting in a brief hospitalisation over the New Years celebrations.

Her green phlegm became speckled with blood and gray motes, yet doctors couldn't isolate a cause from samples, as nothing grew in the lab. X-rays show a marble sized shadow in her left lung, yet palpitation of the torso failed to identify a distinct mass, as expected in cancer or tumours. Doctors all stumped, she'd been discharged with an extensive medical bill and the very same advice of their family doctor; move to a better accommodation with improved air quality.

To say Mordecai was frustrated was understatement. He'd paid the bill begrudgingly, but immediately began planning to embezzle funds from the Savage family. it's finally coming together in early spring; he's spent a week doing thorough calculations during his sparse hours of downtime: how much he needs to save and how long he wants it to take, plotted graphs for medical bills to predict future fluctuations, derived percentage of his wage for each expenditure besides until finally, he'd come to today's conclusions.

With his current wage of sixty-six dollars a week, after giving half directly to his mother for bills and groceries and stowing a quarter in savings, he'd survived on the remaining sixteen dollars a week. It was enough to pay his own utility and food bills before, but Mordecai has been dipping into his savings to pay hospital bills and fund a slew of prescriptions for respiratory medication over the last few months, of which none have reliably alleviated her chronic cough.

By embezzling a measly one percent extra from each of the seven businesses under his management and a little extra math each night, he'll practically double his monthly income.

Careful calculations show the raise would cover his mother's mounting medical bills, allow saving a substantially higher sum each month, and bring Mordecai's savings up to what is needed to buy a house - six thousand dollars - in just over eighteen months. The time, stress and calculations will all be worth it, once his family are out of that rotting carcass of a house, he's sure of it. He just needs time and patience.

After carefully inspecting the teacup for missed residue, he dries it and the saucer, places the former upside down utop the latter, then stows them with three other identical cups in a cupboard. A set of four with a matching teapot, a gift from Mrs Kovitz when he rented the apartment as a young man. He's only ever used a single cup, having never entertained a guest, the inside vaguely stained by years of strong Earl Gray brewed directly within.

One day, he hopes to give the set to his mother, when she moves into the house he's saving for. After all, there's a cup for everyone, and a pot to brew a full batch on lazy Sabbath afternoons. A part of Mordecai can even imagine it; sitting in the garden, sipping the correctly steeped, fragrant blend fresh from the pot while his mother and sisters discuss the latest gossip, the delicate aroma of flowering botanicals drifting on the spring air.

It's a flash of sentimentality, one he doesn't usually allow for himself and doesn't entertain long. A moment passes before he closes the cupboard without a second thought, retiring to bed for a little sleep before he's due at the casino to begin a new day's worth of ledger completion. Placing his pince nez on his bedside table, Mordecai extinguishes his bedside lamp, turns to face the wall and closes his eyes, allowing the darkness to take him into a well deserved slumber.

He rests not with trepidation for the crime he's intending to commit against the most notorious criminal family in the city, but the determination he will succeed. With his mother's life on the line, failure is not an option.

#hurricane heller chapter 19 #niche narratives #mordecai heller #lackadaisy #lackadaisy cats #fanfiction #fanfic #lackadaisy mordecai #tracy j butler #hurricane heller #no beta we die like atlas may

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esaesis · 8 months

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"Enlighten me, will you? You have power—vast, immeasurable power—and yet you choose to skulk in the shadows, hiding your brilliance when you could seize dominion over… well, everything." Astarion gestured expansively around as if to encompass all of Gale's failings. "All you prattle on about is 'Mystra this' and 'Mystra that,' 'Mystra's omnipresent gaze.' Why are you so beholden to a goddess who cast you aside as if you were nothing more than a broken trinket?"

Gale raised his gaze from the ancient manuscript that lay open before him. A rogue beam of sunlight had snaked its way through the overcast sky, cleaving his face as though he wore a half-mask, crafted from the interplay of light and dark. "Your twisted words of comfort, while charming, are misplaced," he replied. "This is not about devotion to Mystra." As he stood, the sunbeam migrated down his neck and across his chest. Astarion's eyes followed it unbidden, and he thought of the magic orb that lurked there, somewhere inside Gale.

"I'm dying, Astarion. Each day is a borrowed moment, each breath a stolen gasp. I don't know if I can survive a week, let alone a month. Dominion? Control? The only thing I can at least try to control is the number of lives I'll destroy when the storm inside me finally breaks."

His gaze broke away from Astarion and fell on the scattering of arcane symbols scribbled on the manuscript.

"And I don't want yours among them," Gale added softly, almost as an afterthought, his voice barely rising above a whisper.

#astarion #astarion/gale #i wrote something #idk what im doing #i just want them to be happy #baldur's gate 3

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autopilotart · 3 months

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Yellow Ferrari 458 Spider by The Beach ⛱️

Creating digital art can be an expressive and imaginative journey. Picture this: a stunning yellow Ferrari parked gracefully in the golden sands of a tranquil beach. The vibrant yellow hue of the car illuminates against the calming blue backdrop of the sea and sky, creating a mesmerizing contrast of colors.

The attention to detail in this digital masterpiece is truly mesmerizing. The sleek curves and sharp lines of the Ferrari are meticulously depicted, showcasing its powerful and luxurious design. Every glimmer of sunlight reflects off the car's glossy surface, adding a touch of realism and brilliance to the overall composition.

As the Ferrari rests by the beach, the artist has skillfully portrayed the surrounding environment, transporting the viewer to a world of serenity and relaxation. The gentle waves softly kiss the shore, while the endless expanse of the ocean stretches into the horizon, inviting a sense of freedom and tranquility.

The digital medium allows for a seamless blend of reality and artistic interpretation. Perhaps the artist has added elements such as palm trees swaying in the gentle breeze, seagulls gracefully gliding overhead, or distant sailboats dotting the horizon. These subtle touches breathe life into the artwork, capturing the essence of a peaceful coastal getaway.

In essence, this digital art piece of a yellow Ferrari by the beach serves as a captivating fusion of luxury, elegance, and escapism. It beckons viewers to immerse themselves in a world where the allure of high-performance automobiles meets the timeless allure of coastal serenity, evoking a sense of wanderlust and appreciation for the finer things in life.

The Ferrari brand is synonymous with prestige, performance, and timeless elegance. As I delve into highlighting some fascinating facts about the company, it's evident that Ferrari's rich history and unwavering commitment to excellence have solidified its status as a legendary automotive icon.

1. Enzo Ferrari: The company's legacy is deeply intertwined with the enigmatic figure of Enzo Ferrari, who founded Scuderia Ferrari in 1929. His relentless pursuit of perfection and passion for racing laid the foundation for a brand that is revered worldwide.

2. Prancing Horse: The iconic prancing horse emblem, a symbol of power and speed, has become synonymous with Ferrari. It was first adopted by Italian World War I hero Count Francesco Baracca, and after meeting Enzo Ferrari's father, it found its place on Ferrari's race cars, consolidating its identity.

3. Racing Heritage: Ferrari's roots in motorsport run deep—its early successes on the racetrack served as the catalyst for its enduring reputation. The brand's Formula One achievements are exceptional, with an unparalleled record of 16 Constructors' Championships and 15 Drivers' Championships.

4. Limited Production: Ferrari's exclusivity is underscored by its limited production approach. The company deliberately restricts the number of cars it manufactures annually, imbuing each model with a sense of rarity and desirability.

5. Technological Innovation: Ferrari's relentless drive for innovation is evident in its groundbreaking technology. From cutting-edge aerodynamics to pioneering hybrid powertrains, the company consistently pushes the boundaries of automotive engineering.

6. Design Excellence: Ferrari's design language is a study in elegance and performance. Each model is meticulously sculpted to marry breathtaking aesthetics with aerodynamic efficiency, epitomizing the marriage of form and function.

7. Global Icon: Beyond its automotive prowess, Ferrari has transcended the realm of automobiles to become a global luxury brand. Its merchandise, theme parks, and experiential offerings ensure that the Ferrari experience extends far beyond the racetrack.

In conclusion, Ferrari's enduring allure lies in its unique blend of heritage, innovation, and passion. As the company continues to evolve and expand its horizons, one thing remains unchanged—the unparalleled spirit of a prancing horse that continues to captivate automotive enthusiasts around the world.

How Do I Buy The Art??

(With 3 easy steps)

To purchase the digital download of a beautiful sports/luxury car in 3 easy steps using Cashapp:

1. Send $15 along with the name of the art piece and your email address to the seller's Cashapp account. ($MirrorEyesArt)

2. Allow 5-10 minutes for the seller to send the email containing your desired art piece to the provided email address.

3. Once you receive the email, simply click the download button on the image to save it to your device for personal use.

After purchasing the digital download, you can explore options for printing and enlarging the image at websites like "CanvasDiscount.com" for affordable prices compared to other competitors.

#sports cars #fast cars #cars #luxury cars #ferrari #laferrari #spyder #digital art #digital illustration #car art

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snowdust64 · 3 months

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『黎明の轍』 (Reimei no Wadachi) romaji + English translation

Artist: VΔLZ Music and lyrics: Maeda Kanro, Minamida Kengo Translation by Snowdust64

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The title translates to “Trails of Dawn.” For the romaji, I kept most of the original punctuation and put English words in all-caps. Implied pronouns are in brackets – for a lot of them, first-person, first-person plural, and second-person could all fit.

Scroll to the end for the translation notes, which correspond to numbered lines in the lyrics.

===============

aimamieru mirai kotae wa GOD ONLY KNOWS…

Ah, the future that can be seen now (1) The answer God only knows

kikaina WORLD risō to genjō ganjigarame no yoru

Bizarre world A night enchained by idealisms and present reality

yonda kai? kokoro no airo ni mayowanaide RING YOUR BELL

[You] called? Don’t waver in the bottleneck of [your] heart Ring your bell

karamaru zen'aku o himotoite namida wa maishin de azanatte osorezu nobasu te yo todoke

Unraveling the entangled good and evil Tears are quelled by pushing forward Extend your hand without fear and reach it

sō sa nando mo nando mo don'na “kyō” ga osotte mo tsuyoku te o musubi, tatakae

That’s right, again and again No matter what “evil” may attack Firmly join hands, fight on

mamoritai shōdō ga kizuna e no shōmei da kurayami no naka de tadotta shingan mai ochiru tame to saku hana wa nai darou? kōsai o abiru tame hana hiraita kiseki o mamoreba

This urge to protect is proof of [our] bond An ardent wish [we] chased in the depths of darkness No flower blooms for the sake of falling, right? To bask in the dazzling glow, the flowers blossomed (2) If this miracle can be protected (3)

UNDERGROUND fuon'na ryūsei sotto kirisaku yoru

Underground A disquieted meteor softly pierces through the night

NOISY HEART hibiwareta mangekyō no yōna sora

Noisy heart The sky like a cracked kaleidoscope

dare mo sorezore no kotowari o seigi to shinagara omoi no wadachi o furikaette wa

Everyone takes their own principles to be justice Looking back at the trails of [my] thoughts (4)

kitto nando mo nando mo kon'na “ai” deau darou soredemo kono te o hanasanai

Surely again and again [I] will encounter such love/sorrow (5) Even so, [I] will not let go of this hand

mamoritai kōkei wa harukanaru shōkei ka? tomadoi no naka de tada hashitta “dakishimeta kōkai o kutsugaesu kaigō da” zankoku na sekai e to sakebu no wa tashikana kokoro da

Is the scene [I] want to protect a distant aspiration? In the midst of confusion, [I] just ran (6) “This encounter overturns the regrets [I’ve] held” Screaming out to the cruel world is this true heart (7)

sō sa nando mo nando mo don'na sadame demo musunda kono te o shinjite ─

That’s right, again and again No matter what has been preordained (8) Believe in these tied hands ─

ima o mamoritai shōdō ga kizuna e no shōmei da kurayami no naka de tadotta shingan “dakishimeta kōkai o kutsugaesu kaigō da” zankokuna sekai e to sakebu no wa tashikana kokoro da

Right now This urge to protect is proof of [our] bond An ardent wish [we] chased in the depths of darkness “This encounter overturns the regrets [I’ve] held” Screaming out to the cruel world is this true heart

kawaranu kokoro da

This unwavering heart (9)

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Translation notes. A big pile of them.

Heads-up for anyone unfamiliar with this: A single kanji character can have multiple readings, and a single spoken word can be transcribed in different kanji to add certain connotations or double-meanings. There were a lot of creative/obscure kanji substitutions in this song that even native speakers would not be aware of without seeing the text of the lyrics.

(1) The first line is written in hiragana instead of katakana and kanji, making it more cryptic to read.

(2) Instead of the more common 花 used for ‘hana,’ meaning ‘flower,’ the kanji here is 華 which has the added connotation of brilliance/splendor. Interchanging these is not as unusual as the rest of the substitutions discussed here.

(3) The kanji used here for ‘kiseki’ is 日常 instead of 奇跡, which means 'miracle.' 日常 is typically read as ‘nichijou’ and means ‘daily life.’ Therefore, daily life = a miracle.

(4) Since ‘wadachi’ appears in the title, I decided to elaborate. This word usually describes the tracks, trails, or other imprints left by wheels rolling over the ground; there’s something tangible left in the path of the journey.

(5) Yes, the official lyrics gave two kanji characters for one spoken syllable, ‘ai’. 愛 means ‘love’ and 哀 means ‘sorrow.’

(6) The kanji used here for ‘hashi’ is 疾走 instead of 走. 疾走 is more specific and means running very fast.

(7) The kanji used here for ‘kokoro’ is 己 instead of 心. 己 is more directly translated as ‘me/myself.’ Based on the written lyrics, the line may be interpreted as ‘Screaming out to the cruel world is my true self.’

(8) The kanji used here for ‘sadame’ is 運命 instead of 定め. 運命 is directly translated as destiny. 定め usually refers to rules and hierarchies created by humans.

(9) The kanji used here for ‘kokoro’ is 信念 instead of 心. 信念 is more directly translated as ‘faith.’

This was the hardest lyric translation I've ever done because the annotations took so much extra research… I loved the process. As always, please let me know if you find any mistakes.

Thanks for reading!!!

=============== Edited 3/3/24 to fix a formatting glitch

#vδlz #kaida haru #genzuki tojiro #nagao kei #nijisanji #english translation

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blueheartbookclub · 4 months

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"Euripides' 'The Medea': A Tragic Ode to Vengeance, Passion, and the Human Psyche"

Euripides' timeless tragedy, "The Medea," translated by Gilbert Murray, stands as a testament to the enduring power of Greek drama. In this riveting narrative, Euripides plunges the audience into the tumultuous world of Medea, a woman scorned, navigating the treacherous waters of betrayal, revenge, and the primal depths of the human psyche. Gilbert Murray's translation, retaining the poetic resonance of the original Greek, brings forth the visceral intensity of Euripides' words, making this ancient play accessible and emotionally charged for modern readers.

At the heart of "The Medea" is the eponymous protagonist, a sorceress and former princess of Colchis, who finds herself in Corinth, betrayed by her husband, Jason. The title itself carries the weight of tragedy, encapsulating the essence of a woman whose name has become synonymous with vengeance and the destructive potential of unchecked passion. Murray's translation preserves the tragic grandeur of Euripides' vision, immersing readers in the emotional maelstrom that is Medea's world.

The play unfolds as a visceral exploration of the consequences of Jason's betrayal, a theme as relevant today as it was in ancient Greece. Medea's searing monologues, masterfully translated by Murray, lay bare the raw emotions of a woman scorned, grappling with the collision of love, betrayal, and a society that denies her agency. The title, "The Medea," beckons readers into a character study of a woman who defies societal norms and challenges the very fabric of morality.

Murray's translation captures the nuances of Euripides' language, allowing readers to appreciate the poetic beauty and rhetorical brilliance of the original play. The title becomes a gateway to an exploration of Greek tragedy—a genre that thrives on the exploration of fundamental human experiences, the fragility of relationships, and the consequences of unchecked passions.

One of the striking aspects of "The Medea" is the ambiguity of morality that Euripides injects into the narrative. The play challenges the audience to grapple with the complexity of Medea's character—a woman who commits unspeakable acts yet elicits sympathy for the injustices she has suffered. The title acts as a harbinger of this moral ambiguity, inviting readers to question their own ethical compass as they navigate the turbulent waters of Medea's choices.

As the tragedy unfolds, Murray's translation skillfully navigates the chorus's interludes, adding a collective voice to the unfolding drama. The title becomes a unifying thread, signaling the chorus's role in guiding the audience through the moral quandaries and emotional tumult depicted on the stage. Euripides, through Murray's translation, weaves a tapestry of collective grief, fear, and contemplation that underscores the universal themes at play.

In conclusion, "The Medea" by Euripides, translated by Gilbert Murray, is a tour de force that transcends time and cultural boundaries. The title serves as a portal into a world of tragic inevitability, where the line between heroism and villainy blurs, and the consequences of human actions reverberate through the ages. Murray's translation, with its eloquence and sensitivity, ensures that the emotional and philosophical resonance of Euripides' work remains intact, inviting readers to confront the timeless questions embedded in the human experience. "The Medea" stands as a testament to the enduring power of Greek tragedy—a genre that continues to illuminate the darkest corners of the human soul.

Euripides' timeless tragedy, "The Medea," is available in Amazon in paperback 10.99$ and hardcover 18.99$ editions.

Number of pages: 139

Language: English

Rating: 10/10

Link of the book!

Review By: King's Cat

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