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panda-writes-kpop · 1 year

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Of Gods and Men - Yeji

A/N: Hi guys, girls, and non-binary pearls!! I hope you all are well. I'm excited to show off this new series to you all. 🥰 Let me know if you're interested in seeing more of the Itzy girls like this. 🥹 Also, happy Itzy comeback day!!

TW: The Greek goddesses and their shenanigans, Aphrodite as she is in mythology (an egoistic bitch), OOC Yeji, cussing

♡ Masterlist ♡ 》》》 ☆ AU Masterlist ☆

Aphrodite ~ Goddess of Love and Beauty

You were a mere mortal, just trying to make it through day-to-day life

Your best friend, however, had other plans when you were sleeping over at their one night

They loudly exclaimed, “I am the most beautiful creature in the land! Not even Aphrodite could compare to my beauty!”

You had tried to warn them that Aphrodite was not a goddess to be messed with, as you named numerous occasions where such a statement ended with the speaker in serious trouble

Your friend paid you no mind, so you shrugged before going to bed

If they were going to fuck with a goddess, it was their problem, after all

You woke up at 3 in the morning to hear a goat screaming in your friend’s apartment

After you rubbed the sleep away in your eyes, the realization hit you:

When the fuck did your best friend get a goat?

You quickly investigate only to find a goat in place of your friend.

After trying to convince yourself that you were dreaming, you decide to look around your apartment for your friend.

This has to be a joke, right? Why would they have a goat in here when they aren’t even allowed to get a dog?

You pause when you see a figure standing by the open windows of your friend’s apartment.

You take a step towards the figure, and they turn around to meet your eyes.

A beautiful woman in a long, flowing pink gown stares back at you, and her name falls from your lips before your brain realizes who you’re staring at.

“Aphrodite.”

She kindly smiles before taking a step closer to you.

“That is one of my many names, but yes, you may call me that.”

“How did you…” You pause as you try to think of something to say. “Is that goat really my friend?”

The claim sounds ridiculous when it comes out of your mouth, but her nod tells you that your suspicions were right.

“It's temporary, do not fret. They will be returned back to normal within a few days, or a week, depending on how long the spell takes to wear off.”

“I- So you’re just going to leave them like that?”

“Disrespecting my name has consequences, Y/N.” You jump when she calls your name. “But you seem to be well aware of that.”

“I-” You pause as she walks past you. “You’re stunning.”

She offers you a brilliant smile before opening the door.

“Oh, trust me, I know.”

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astrowaffles · 1 year

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Answer all of them :]

JAMMIE I'M IN LOVE W YOU HOW DID YOU KNOW I WANTED TO ANSWER THEM ALL

anyways

Do you listen to music when you write?

no. my little animal brain must have complete silence in order to function. i'm very easily overstimulated and even if i have it on and manage to ignore it, the moment i leave the Writing Zone for even a second, i'm extremely irritated and frustrated. DOWN WITH BACKGROUND MUSIC

Do you have a trusted beta?

NO BETA WE DIE LIKE MEN!! honestly i'm too egoistic to have a beta, i tend to just assume i got it right the first time anyway. most of my fics are unbeta'd, although a few were done by hayla (@cauxtion)

First person or third person?

Third person. Personally I hate reading fics in first person so I don't write them either, but it has been known to happen.

Past tense or present tense?

Usually if I want something to have an emotional tone, I'll use present tense, whereas cracky or otherwise shallower fics are past tense.

How long do your fics tend to be? Multi-chapter or one-shots?

Short! Mostly one-shots, mostly about 1.5k or thereabouts. Plot is not my strong point.

Rarepairs? Yea or nay?

I don't tend to write them and usually don't actively ship them, but i'm not against them or anything. i just prefer the ships that make sense to *me*.

In character or out of character?

I try SO HARD to make everything in character, but the problem is, I write UA's (universe alterations) so the characters are in situations they have never canonically been in. it's a lot of guesswork, and i'm sure it turns out ooc regularly!

Favourite trope?

Well, obviously, i'm a SUCKER for a good old single father figure ... reluctant father figure ... doting father figure ... found family, y'all. found family.

Do you like reading/writing Omegaverse?

Have read it, will probably read it in the future. Would 100% never write it. Not my thing, really, but lots of love to the people who do!

OTP(s)?

It's endless, dear god. Just in haikyuu, there's iwaoi, ushiten, kghn, daisuga, skts, kyouhaba, matsuhana, kuroken, bokuaka ....... there is literally no end

NOTP?

y'all are gonna hate me for this, i can feel it, but I have two: ushioi, and kiyoyachi. detest them, tbh

Fluff or smut?

Fluff!!!! i literally do not give a flying flamingo whether the characters fucked or not, tell me what they did on their date to the amusement park fr

Does angst get you excited?

I literally hate it so much throw it away bury it put it in a nuclear reactor i hate it so much. i will only read it for the Greater Good of a fic i'm very invested in

How do you come up with fic ideas?

Usually i'll sit there and think, i want to write a fic. what shall i write it about? and then i get an idea and then i write it. simples.

Are you a planner?

Nope. there's a reason my fics usually peter out at about 2k words, and it's because i've run out of ideas since i didn't plan anything :D

Do you title your chapters?

Not usually, but it depends on the context. sometimes i'm trying to copy the style of a book (like percy jackson) or the chapters are essentially standalone stories, in which case there'd be titles.

Overused words or phrases that just make your eye twitch?

i don't have any! the only thing that annoys me is when native english speakers try to use common english-speaker phrases but get them wrong. how do you even manage that??

What's something you struggle with as a writer?

character/story depth. my writing it just ' they bantered and then they went home'. WHERE ARE THE FEELINGS??

Any writing advice?

Write what you want to write! there's no point forcing yourself to continue things or start things that you're not interested in. you're here to have fun, so let yourself have fun and don't feel obligation to do anything. and if you end up not writing for months on end, so what? you have to do what works for you.

thanks for the ask!

#astro speaks wonders #hq #JAMMIE 👹

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webwanderer · 2 years

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Sleeping Petunia

☒ [Scaramouche x GN!Reader]

☒ [3rd person p.o.v.]

☒ [1.0 k words]

☒ [Use of "Name" as the self insert]

☒ [Scara might be a lil ooc because I haven't palyed Genshin since 2.3]

☒ [Modern AU]

☒ [SFW, but slightly suggestive]

•`*+:｡. "they made me into this" .ೃ࿐

↳ for a full immersion~

youtube

Name was sitting at their chair; like the violet haired boy, they didn’t seem to wanting to let go such comfortable and loved spot. The seat’s padded arms wrapped them, and loud noises, which were clearly audible from outside the headphones' speaker, filled their ears, comforting their person, the one who was so afraid of succumbing to silence. Another game ended, another hour passed. Their night and day were spent accordingly to this living style, the routine that didn’t allow any thought to permeate to their brain. Name occasionally let go of the mouse and lifted their hand off the keyboard in order to take a sip from the crumpled – maybe survivor of a fit of rage – bottle, of which plastic reflected the suffused red light that enveloped the room. This time was different, though. Name, once they finished swallowing that vague liquid, didn’t lay their eyes again on the monitor in front of them, but twisted slightly their head. The movement was slow and felt not natural – given the time they just spent still, in the same position; it took them a few minutes to adapt to the new posture, but after that, everything came back to normality, to the old days when life flowed ‘effortlessly’. Following their head, was their body. The chair rotated on the place, allowing the young to face in the direction of the other, who was still sleeping, not even caring to get under the blankets. Name’s eyes wandered along the pale boy silhouette. His sleep seemed messy, eyebrows frowned, jaw slightly clenched: an uneasy look on his face. It resulted crystal clear, that his nightmares were nagging him once again. His magenta lips tightened, as if he did not want to let escape the anxieties to which he was accustomed. He secretly kept that mask of silence; even if, at first glance, he could look like an egoist narcissist, he had never wanted to weight down the others with his own struggles. Name, to the sight of the boy quietly shifting in his rest, stood up from their chair. Slowly, dragging their feet, still drowsy because of the endless time spent at the desk, they got closer to the bed.

Scaramouche was laying on his back, and the place of his legs reminded a mixture of supine and fetal position. Name was devouring that view. The other’s body was right before him, it seemed like he lowered all of his guards and allowed himself to appear defenceless in front of Name. That look was rare to be seen on the purple haired boy, and Name found that extremely attractive. Only the thought of Scaramouche, feeling comfortable enough to take off his costume, aroused them. It made their chest burn, they were proud of themselves but at the same time, they felt an unconditional attraction to the other. They felt the need to embrace him, to slide their fingers all along his features; they wanted to draw delicate traces long the boy’s back, starting from the bottom of his neck and carefully going down, following his spine, until his dimples of Apollo. God, if they were attractive. Said Name to themselves while picturing the image in their head. They wanted to hold his hand, and with the other, empty one, trace his slender interlocked fingers.

Slow shaky breaths left pale chapped lips. The boy’s mouth was slightly ajar, enough to allow feeble sighs to escape. Hours passed since the man fell asleep; the softness of his face was starting to vanish. His head felt heavy, dragged down by the weight of the thoughts that were racing through his mind. In a deep state of sleep, his body was resting bed-nailed, not hinting of wanting to abandon that troubled but peaceful – compared to his life – dream land.

A drop.

Their focus shifted from Scaramouche’s hands to his face. A single, little drop was drawing his cheek. A crystal tear, pure as the boy’s looks, reflected a past of mourning, an Odyssey with no Ithaca homeland to return to: an open wandering with no sweet end. Without letting go of the other’s hand, Name slowly lifted theirs. They leaned in, getting closer to that resting face. Their finger was about to caress the violet haired boy’s tender skin, in an attempt to clean him off the teardrop. But they froze. It was not their role to comfort Scaramouche, nor to help him. They surely knew he didn’t want to be helped, and he definitely didn’t need it either. That was the older’s will: to overcome his past, by his own.

They stayed in that position for a while, gazing yet another time at his soft features. They could never get enough of them. Feeling the attraction of a magnet at the tip of their nose, they leaned in more. They shifted their weight onto the bed, putting a knee on the soft duvet to top better over the silhouette of the other. Decreasing the space that separated them, they were now almost front to front. Only a single exhale from Name’s lips was enough to awake Scaramouche from his slumber. Immediately, the younger gently jolted back to give room for the boy to move his head. The violette was now facing Name. Purple irises interlocked with their entranced ones. Name was sinking, losing themselves in fields of Petunia flowers. A fresh, cold fragrance, rising from amethyst locks, gripped to every inch of Name’s skin.

Scaramouche pinned his gaze into the other’s, but no answer was to be perceived. They had long ago gone astray in gracious Elysian Fields. A spacious land. A spacious land for reverb to be heard; for distant burning worries to be lost; for lonely souls to find comforting solitude and full silence. It was possible to grasps the melancholic tunes of mellow, familiar melodies, far away at the borders of that extra-corporeal dimension. Old notes melted in blurred memories. Fragments of a forgotten, worn out childhood.

The feeling of burning skin touching their collarbone awakened them from that ethereal wandering. Snapping out from their trance brought them to directly face Scaramouche. In the snap of a moment, their mouths were tied together, enlaced. The kiss was delicate. Soft lips gently being burned by feverish emotions. Theirs was a calm passion; it kindled the air around them. No hurry allowed in that brief instant: they were there for each other, and they were not about to run anywhere.

[Fun fact: the symbolic meaning of petunia flowers has evolved throughout time from associations with anger and resentment to the more modern symbolism of desire, hope, and calmness. I thought it could have been a good fit for Scara]

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lycanomancy · 4 years

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Mama Amara hcs

check out this ask for context/background

Because I’m obsessed with Amara being a typical stern, tough-love, but supportive mom-figure to the garbage boy Troy.

Warning: This is purely indulgent and will probably be OOC to some/most people.

When Troy first comes under her wing (unbeknownst to him), it’s more ‘drill sergeant’ than anything outright friendly or parental. There is no coddling or slack, Amara’s on a mission to take this rude, greasy, moody E-boy and civilize him. She will domesticate and tame this oversized rat if it’s the last thing she does.

First order of business: if the ship jerks or a vent blows on him, he’s gone. The skin will wilt off his bones, he will melt into a puddle. How is he even walking? Where is his flesh? Does he have organs? She asks around to see what his diet is, what kind of junk/poison he’s putting in his body.

He’s been living off of ramen since he got there. Amara kicks in his door at 6 in the morning with a plate piled with protein breakfast burritos.

“Eat some actual food, before you slip down a godd*mned grate!”

Troy is convinced it’s poisoned. Amara flashs her many arms, perfectly able of force-feeding a string bean. He, smartly, takes the hint.

This becomes the normal. He takes it as an insult and really doesn’t want it, but Amara knows every single one of his hiding places, and it’s eat or get beat. She makes a lot of Partali cuisine, which he hasn’t had since Mom, so that’s another reason for him to get his hackles up

Amara could not care less about his hackles; she’s Buff Personified, this child looks like a straw. It’s the first time in years that someone wasn’t threatened, intimidated, and more importantly, afraid with his displays of “I’m a God, and you’re about to be sacrificed.”

It’s kind of refreshing.

After she ensures he’s actually getting nutrients and calories, Amara moves on to Phase 2: Domestication.

Troy has more complexs than a neighborhood on Promethea. He’s rude, he’s callous and defensive, he’s cruel and selfish and egoistical. He’s also shy. He stutters, and hides in dark corners with mechanical projects while humming to the music in his headphones. Amara starts noticing the split between Troy, a young man with issues, and the issues taking shape in the God-King.

She knows she can’t just yank him around and make him socialize with everyone - baby steps, little by little, start small. Just like a workout.

Troy’s first real social interaction with another person is Amara dragging him to her room for training.

She starts him out with some basic yoga to get a feel for just how unhealthy he is. He complains the entire time, and gets even more annoyed when Amara doesn’t care.

Troy thinks it’s punishment, or she’s supposed to watch him like a parole officer. Amara’s just trying to A: get him in better shape, and B: socialize him, like a feral dog that’s been kicked too many times. It takes a month of daily workouts, slowly getting more challenging then the last, and Troy complaining more and more each day, before he starts getting used to it. Hackles come down, shell opens a bit. Amara takes the opportunity to ask him about how he got so good with engineering, and the shell opens a little more.

She’s the only one who talks to him without a glare or sneer, so she’s the only who he’ll talk to. Troy asks her about what Partali was like, she tells him stories about stopping crime lords and saving villages. Amara inquires as to how he managed to keep the CoV functional and not a total dumpster fire and he regales to her horrors of working with bandit warlords and corporate trust-fund children like Katagawa.

Amara now has proof that there’s a regular human being in there, albiet a damaged one. But, Amara is the queen of working with what’s she’s got and coming out on top - damaged or not, she can work with him if there’s some mortality in there.

Once he’s comfortable enough around her, it’s like Troy Calypso and the kid she’s taken under her wing were never the same people. Amara learns that his stuttering is an indicator of him being relaxed, and him speaking neatly and even is the opposite. She can see a human under there, but the God-King, as much of a defensive shell as it may be, is still part of that human, and the blood still stains that human’s hands.

When she starts trying to make Troy socialize with the others, she gets a good look at just how bad his “Me vs Them” mindset is. Everything that comes out his mouth is dismissive, rude, callous, condescending, overly-defensive, or a combination of the five. That human she got a glimpse off hides away, behind the skin of the bloodthirsty psychopath that she, that they all, tried to take down.

He snaps at Zane’s attempts of conversation, Tannis’ inquiries about his tattoos. Ellie gets off a little easier, but that’s because Troy mostly ignores her. And good god, Lilith and Ava don’t make it easy. One of them will bring up his time in the CoV, his relationship with Tyreen or Typhon, or imply him a fake siren, a freak, and hell decides to blow over the Sanctuary.

How Troy knew about Roland, Amara doesn’t know. She does know that he barely escaped with his life, and that blaming the Crimson Raider’s death on Lilith was not a smart thing to do.

Amara talks to anyone who has the capacity to be civil, tells them her goal, and politely asks that they not try to make it nigh impossible with snide remarks about every sore spot Troy has, Ava.

Only Zane and Ellie really support her, but once she gets the crew on-board with Operation: Make This Man Tolerable, things start going smoother.

When Troy doesn’t use basic manners like please, thank you, or doesn’t hold the door open for someone, the air gets static-y while Amara counts down to 1 in her head. She doesn’t need to out-loud, Troy knows his timer to rectify his behavior by her stern gaze and the flashing of her tattoos. After a while, manners become normal habit - for a select few. Ellie stops being ‘Car Chick’ and has her name following a ‘Ms’. Moze gets an enthusiastic ‘Thanks!’ when she lets him poke around Iron Bear. Tannis is thrilled by his use of ‘Dr.’ and that he’s no longer threatening to kill her every time she sneaks up on him to look at his tattoos.

Amara notices that he’s much worse with men, and it takes him twice as long to be...well, not friendly, but to stop being aggressive to the same gender. He met Brick and it was like a chihuahua snarling at a mastiff, shaking in every limb. Luckily, Brick about as friendly as someone can get and doesn’t have anything out for Troy, so that one-sided rivalry eases off once Troy stops seeing the berserker as threat.

She’s honestly kind of proud of him. A few months ago, he was hiding in corners and his room, starving and isolated. Troy’s actually managed to get on Ellie’s good side. Fl4k’s pets like him now. He’s eating properly now, his skin doesn’t look so grey and thin. He looks healthy.

Until he doesn’t.

She goes around the ship trying to find him for more training, but no one has seen him. The ship goes on lockdown. Progress or not, he’s still Troy Calypso, and they still can’t trust him.

Mr. Chew finds him behind some machinery in the back, unconscious with his tattoos flickering. Tannis is checking him over, but she doesn’t find any source. His heartbeat is irregular, his blood circulation is all wrong, he stops breathing for far too many seconds at a time. He looks pale and he’s cold to the touch. Lilith thinks he might have taken a bad hit of narcotics when Amara figures it out.

No one has been giving Troy energy.

He’s been away from Tyreen for the better part of a year, and he hasn’t gotten a boost since he was in the CoV. One of the sirens needs to give him some energy, but they can’t - he has to take it, and after Maya, no one feels inclined to.

Amara volunteers when he wakes up, but he refuses. Says he’s ‘done being a parasite’.

Amara flips her lid.

Everyone is shoved out of the clinic, and for a solid 47 minutes and 31 seconds, Amara goes over every single insecurity Troy has about his body, powers, and relationship with his sister, and tears them down one by one like they were bandits.

Troy’s still emotionally constipated, so he agrees to take some energy just so Amara stops talking about his issues.

When she lets him take her arm and sap power from her, she makes him take more than the bare minimum he needs. The entire time, she berates him for not saying anything, and tells him to come to her before he’s suffering.

Judging from his reaction, Tyreen had different feelings.

Amara drags him to her room for training and an entire blender of a protein shake once he can stand again.

She makes a joke about Maliwan brand kitchenware, and it’s the first time she hears him genuinely laugh.

#amara the siren #troy calypso #calypso twins #borderlands 3 #borderlands #long post #this took me three hours #ik this is sappy and cliche #idc #this is for me but if someone else enjoys it #hoorah

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divinetalia · 4 years

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OOC Information: ——– -Name: Artemis -Age: 22 -Pronouns: she/her -Personal Blog: crescent–crowned -Other blogs/links (i.e, askblogs): ask-a-former-nation -What made you want to join the AU originally?: I am a huge nerd for mythologies (especially Greek and Roman ones) and I still have some deep passion for Hetalia. So both combined!? Big wow! -Do you have any triggers? (So we do not mention them in the chats): Not really. -How active do you think you can be overall?: It depends how much is required. But I can be in the discord basically everyday and art wise 1-2 times a week. -Do you read and agree to the rules of this AU?: Yes. -Will you refrain from giving this AU a negative representation?: Of course I’ll refrain from that. —— IC Information: —— -Desired Character: South Italy / Romano -Desired God Role (God/dess of ___): God of War -Gender/Pronouns: he/him -Age: 22 -Height: 170cm / 5'6 -Weight: 70 kg / 154lbs -Prominent Physical Attributes: His auburn locks (with a prominant curl), the many scars and quite muscled body -Drawn Image Muse: ((attached)) -Description Of Appearance: He is quite short compared to other males but can compete muscle and strength wise. Has many scars across his body and sadly also on lip. He has honey colored skin with faint freckles on his face, auburn brown fluffy hair and olive green colored eyes. He has usually a cocky grin on his face. If not driven by blood lust, you can see him wearing Renaissance inspired clothing but during a fight he trusts his golden, ancient armor and his spear. -Description Of Personality: He is quite full of himself and can come over as cocky, arrogant and even a bit manic. It is very easy to tick him off and to tease him, but not many people dare to do that because of his ruthless and egoistical personality. His biggest passions in life are war, obviously, alcohol, eating and spending his night with different kinds of people, preferably more. If you hit his weak points though he can be whiny, especially when you mention the scar on his face. It’s also surprisingly easy to make him feel shy. ((I hope I did this right haha ;; ))

#aph romano #hetalia romano #aph #axis powers ヘタリア #axis powers hetalia #hetalia au #aph au #accepted application #submission

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chandlerrosen · 4 years

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the hollow crown and dagger of the mind

when: auditions

where: the alderidge auditorium

who: chandler rosen, center stage, all alone

ooc: chandler is auditioning for macbeth! i don’t expect her to get the role, though i do think she’d be a strong contender! additionally, i think it’d be interesting if she played lady macbeth, as she never played a female role before and heidi seems to like to shake things up, plus the guilt tears lady macbeth apart, and though chandler didn’t kill anyone, she still feels incredibly guilty for a number of reasons. also, i think it’d be saucy if she was macduff, whose morality and thirst for justice could translate well to the plot, considering chandler wants to find out who kills orson! extra spicy if macbeth/lady macbeth killed orson, though that is up to heidi of course.

“To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, / Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,”

the infamous words from the equally infamous play rang through chandler’s head as she anticipated her call to action, the beginning of the end. well acquainted with the ceremony of the audition, chandler held in her hand an iced coffee the size of her head, the condensation dripping down her thigh as she silently buzzed with adrenaline and caffeine. soon she would be called into the auditorium, prepared to bare her heart, her soul, the very blood in her veins, and leave it on the stage. just as orson taught her. of course, he wouldn’t be there, beaming up at her performance that she created for his eyes only. god, those eyes. how she missed the way they sparkled and glinted, their familiar warmth soothing her nerves as she uttered her first word, thus beginning her descent, spiralling deeper and deeper into the character she sculpted with the hands of her passion.

and then she was called, by a voice unfamiliar though not unkind. nerves before an audition are normal - though some may disagree, they are liars. but her nerves were compounded with the fear that heidi knew, and would judge her for her fleshly sins - though sweet, they stung. the sun was beginning to sink as she took one last look out the window and entered the auditorium, the blinding stage lights a familiar comfort amidst the chaos.

“hello, my name is chandler rosen and i’m auditioning for the role of macbeth,” she said confidently. a bold choice, but this would be her final time gracing the stage at alderidge, and such a tremendous goodbye must go out with an equally devastating bang. could she do it, though? before her audition she considered not auditioning, or simply doing an overdone speech from macbeth. but she couldn’t afford to be cast in a small role, quite literally. as well, it would simply prove everyone right when they swear she only got the lead in henry viii because of who she chose to give her heart to. rumors flew around chandler, beating her over and over again with words that stained and burned into her core. she chose to embrace those scars with her performance. if it is a murderer they want, it will be a murderer she will give.

but could she do it? could she show,

show,

SHOW!

as the three witches demand? could she unfurl the scrolls inside her veins that contained her deepest fears of cowardice and regret, confront the monstrous creature that lived inside of her, that was capable of hurting those she loved? capable of becoming her mother? could she show the world the most depraved parts of her she tries so desperately to hide? she must, she simply has no other choice.

“i will be performing richard ii’s monologue from act three, scene three.” heidi nodded as she jotted down notes on her pad, and met chandler with friendly eyes. perhaps heidi wasn’t so bad after all. she was no orson, that was for certain, but no one could match up to him. and if she turned out to be the villain in this tragedy, so be it. more fuel for her fire.

her body sunk with despair as she prepared her descent. voice lowered effortlessly as she did, she began, “what must the king do now? must he submit? the king shall do it: must he be deposed? the king shall be contented: must he lose the name of king?” she paused, a pained expression on her face as she imagined herself, a despot at his prime, seeing the fruits of his labor and body slipping before his eyes as he was faced with mutiny. “o' God's name, let it go:” moaning on go, they, chandler and richard intertwined, begged for release from their suffering. the words she spake became a river that flowed out from her lips as she became that tired egoist. “i'll give my jewels for a set of beads, my gorgeous palace for a hermitage, my gay apparel for an almsman's gown, my figured goblets for a dish of wood, my sceptre for a palmer's walking staff, my subjects for a pair of carved saints,” they pleaded with their audience, envisioned a world of simplicity, where outside pressures and pleasures were eliminated, their self effaced and transformed into a small cog in a divined machine. “and my large kingdom for a little grave,” pausing, a look of ecstasy and pain, of the utmost catharsis, spread across her face, she waited a beat for the words to sink in and resound across the space. a little grave, the same one orson was lying in, alone. the same one she would call eternity one day.

the thought of orson in his grave made her heart sink deeper. her eyes glazed over as her voice turned bitter and dreamlike, “a little little grave, an obscure grave; or i'll be buried in the king's highway, some way of common trade, where subjects' feet may hourly trample on their sovereign's head; for on my heart they tread now whilst I live; and buried once, why not upon my head?” voice filled with spite and heartbreak, chandler couldn’t tell who she was more mad at - those who betrayed her, or she, who betrayed herself. betrayal - the thought never crossed her mind until that minute as she reveled in the pitiful richard, who saw his subjects as his children, and their committing patricide on their divinely anointed king. chandler didn’t see herself as the king of alderidge - far from it, honestly. though she understood his words, his desire with every fiber of his being to be anonymous, the burden of others and their bitter betrayal eased off his shoulders. their shoulders. the disappointment she saw in the eyes of those she once called friends, the sadness in the eyes of the one she called my love. breaking grace’s heart destroyed her own, and chandler would give anything to feel that sorrow and anger and betrayal that grace must feel. if only that could mean grace was happy.

tears began to prick her eyes at the most opportune time as she turns to the fabricated cousin of richard and continues, “aumerle, thou weep'st, my tender-hearted cousin! we'll make foul weather with despised tears; our sighs and they shall lodge the summer corn, and make a dearth in this revolting land.” weeping joy fills her voice as she, as richard, gives a rousing speech to his woebegone cousin. misery loves company, after all, though chandler felt herself entirely alone lately. she had helen, but her best friend’s light was too bright to be dulled by the darkness of her own depravity. and thus she questioned who her own aumerle would be. who would be alongside her as she brought the storm down upon herself and her peers, who she digs her grave alongside? who would be brought down with her as she plummeted to the rocky bottom of her metaphorical grave? until finally she realized the answer. no one.

alas, no time to dwell on her own misery upon the sordid stage! for it was richard who required her undivided attention! she quickened the pace, asking her next question with morbid, restrained glee, pontificating on their shared sorrow, “or shall we play the wantons with our woes, and make some pretty match with shedding tears? as thus, to drop them still upon one place, till they have fretted us a pair of graves within the earth; and, therein laid,—there lies two kinsmen digg'd their graves with weeping eyes.” and oh, how her eyes wept. her stream of tears slowed and stilled, her voice traversing the terrain from woe to bitterness, and dropping into melancholic anguish, popping the p’s like orson taught her, stressing the beauty of shakespeare’s words. all emotions dulled by the composure that dignified a king who had naught but his own dignity left.

she turns to face heidi, her lone audience member. perhaps her new director was just as alone as she was. perhaps they could find common ground, perhaps she could soften the blow of orson’s death. the foolish thoughts of a child filled her head before she realized the obvious - nothing, and no one, could soften this lethal blow. and again, anger bubbled in her - anger at herself, at her own helplessness. a helplessness that she felt within richard, who could do nothing but stand there and talk, concede his kingdom and pray for his life. she spoke with a self-righteous flair, eager to hold onto the scraps of richard’s pride, “would not this ill do well? well, well, i see i talk but idly, and you laugh at me. most mighty prince, my lord northumberland, what says king bolingbroke? will his majesty give richard leave to live till richard die?” they laughed at him. all of them, laughing at a man on the brink of losing his lifeblood, faced with an impossble choice, and one completely out of his hands: to die a king, to live forever in infamy? or to die shrouded in anonymity, to live in peace? to be or not to be, though that question found its home in a different play far from chandler’s mind.

contempt filled her voice as she straightened up, her final stand against those who dare deny her her love, her friends, her passion, who dare denied richard his hollow crown. she snarled her lip and began her solitary revolution, “you make a leg, and bolingbroke says ay.”

it was the cowardice in those who deposed richard - they flatter him, only to mindlessly follow the next man with victory written in his blood. they praise him as they once praised richard. as they once praised orson. perhaps, at the denouement of her descent, she realized that she was not richard; orson was. or perhaps it was an amalgam of the two of them - three of them? after the time they spent together, chandler couldn’t help but wonder how much of orson’s soul intertwined with hers, how much blood he left stained on her fingertips, her throat, her heart. she once thought that she would be lucky to have an ounce of orson’s passion and intelligence, but now she worries - for a brief second before she violently effaces it from her mind’s eye - that he left too much of his own darkness. how selfish of him, to break her life and leave her to pick up the pieces. and yet, when they were together, she felt as though the cracks she accumulated throughout her life were plastered with solid gold. beauty cannot exist without terror, after all.

she took a second to decompress from the emotions of her monologue. taking a breath, she perked up, smiling at heidi who, surprisingly, returned the gesture. “thank you, chandler.” she says before returning to her notepad. “thank you,” chandler said with a sincerity that startled her. adrenaline pumping through her veins, she floated out of the door, confronted by the hazy darkness of dusk. the thoughts and emotions that came up during her monologue, those unexplored territories that chandler feared venturing, were simply something she would have to ponder tomorrow.

#ensembletask #{ presume not that i am the thing i was | headcanon }#this isnt rly a hc but i'll change the tag later

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orsino-the-enchanter · 4 years

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I was tagged by @valentin-cs, who kindly asked me to do this meme in-character for Orsino. Your wish is my command, love~❤

Name: Orsino

Star sign: Pisces

Height: 180cm.

Put your itunes, spotify or googleplay music on shuffle. What are the first 6 songs that popped up ? *stares at Mun confused* *has no idea what itunes, spotify and googleplay are* *mun shrugs* Well, anyway, here are some songs off the top of my head:

Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds - “Tupelo” Tom Waits - “Time” Mark Lanegan - “Miracle” Leonard Cohen - “If It Be Your Will” Peter Murphy - “Things To Remember”

Grab one book nearest to you and turn to page 23. What’s line 17?

“He tries to explain it to me on our way home at night. It is so tragic and so ridiculous at the same time that I am obliged to stop now and then and laugh in his face.” (Henry Miller, Tropic Of Cancer)

Ever had a poem or a song written about you? Gods, I hope not. My life’s story would make for poor entertainment.

When was the last time you played air guitar? Air guitar? *stares at mun confused* *mun demonstrates* Oh, thAt... Nah, I do not partake in air guitaring. *mun clears throat* Okay okay, sometimes I do, but in my own time. Satisfied now? *mun nods*

Who is your celebrity crush? Did Meredith count as a celebrity?

What’s a sound you hate; sound you love?

Hate : Screams of all kinds. I’ve heard enough of them to last me an eternity.

Love : The sound of rain, the rustling of leaves in the wind, the crackling of a fireplace, the sound of waves.

Do you believe in ghosts? ‘Tis not a matter of “belief”; I have seen spirits and it is common knowledge that the Gallows were haunted.

How about aliens? It would be terribly egoistic to believe we are the only sentient beings in the universe.

Do you drive? *shrug* I can ride.

What was the last book you read? “Saving Normal: An Insider's Revolt Against Out-of-Control Psychiatric Diagnosis, DSM-5, Big Pharma, and the Medicalization of Ordinary Life” by Allen Frances. I borrowed it from the mun.

Do you like the smell of gasoline? Not really. ‘Tis too intense.

What was the last movie you saw? Good question. It must have been Van Helsing.

What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had? Well, technically I died when I performed the Harvester spell. I could say rhe only reason I am still around is because Mythal willed it, but really it’s just necromancy, some coincidences and my rotten luck.

Do you have any obsessions right now? Given the Coronavirus lockdown, I have more time to knit and bake than before.

Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong? I try not to. Most of them are long dead now anyway.

In a relationship? I..uh... n-no. Not really.

Tagging : tagging: @shield-of-shame @the-old-and-the-hapless @hooded-rogue @iamcole @enchanter-rhys @thebloodychampion @lowtownbutcher @c0rpse-fl0wer @jowanmancer @sworntoprotect and whoever else i am forgetting atm (feel free to answer either ic or ooc)

#orsino speaks #orsino answers #memes #modern thedas verse

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jean-and-ali-liveblogs · 6 years

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[1] Okay, firstly, the show IS in a different timeline now. Original Steven from the first episode is undeniably dead. Current Steven never got to use the Hourglass, he never experienced events of this episode, same with the Gems. [2] I really hate this episode for many reasons. Steven is very OOC here, he turns from a compassionate good person, into an egoistic brat. The whole time travel idea is just horrible to the show. Having canon time travel just causes a LOT of problems with the plot.

Jean: [1] I think that since Steven didn’t do anything with the hourglass, then according to the sets there is nothing there (OH MY GOD -Ali). Steven from subset B died. And Steven from set A is continuing his story normally

(This is it, guys. This is how our friendship is going to end. Because of talking about time as SETS AND SUBSETS. I can’t take this anymore.

I am joking, of course. Um, saying that just in case - Ali)

Jean: [2] I don’t think he was acting like egoistic brat.

Ali: Elaborate, elaborate, elaborate.

Jean: He just wanted them to listen to him, he wanted to set (this word triggers me now - Ali) hierarchy. You know, that HE is the star of that band.

Ali: Wasn’t that OOC for him?

Jean: Not really, he just really really wanted those Stevens to listen to him and got a little bit too inpatient. But come on. I think it’s normal for people to sometimes act differently than they usually act. I am not shocked. You know, if Steven kicked somebody in the ass and called somebody a dick, then I would definitely wonder what’s wrong.

Ali: Well, I guess. That thing about how “ I think it’s normal for people to sometimes act differently than they usually act.“ is quite true actually. I mean, my friends expect me to be always patient, docile (even borderline on submissive) and pretty much ok with everything, but every now and then I deviate from that, because I am done with something or something triggers me and then everybody think I am OOC.

But I personally still do think that Steven was kinda OOC in that episode. ... I guess that means that I am a little bit of a hypocrite.

#su #steven universe #asks

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dooleysbionicarm-y · 7 years

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And Elite Force was horrible because the only writers were the ones who wrote the stupid filler episodes of Lab Rats except for when Chris Peterson wrote ‘The Rise of Five’ and ‘The Attack’ and him and Bryan Moore wrote ‘Home Sweet Home’, and there were no writers from Mighty Med either. They didn’t even bring back Tecton.

alskdjlas quite honestly i don’t really remember much of elite force bc i blacked out most of it, but you’re right, the filler episodes were so so so annoying and irritating so when it actually focused on the actual plot, it felt out of place and confusing (don’t even get me started on that mess of a finale … ) and the whole premise of the show was just so bland and unoriginal, like how do you manage to take a show about bionic heroes and a show about normos saving superheroe’s lives and turn it into a show about 5 bratty teenagers living in a penthouse, cause that seemed like that was all they were doing to me!!!

and what more, the writers didn’t even understand most of the characters and made them as irritating and bland and ooc as possible??? i didn’t even watch that much mighty med but i distinctly remember oliver not being as big as a creep to skylar as he was in elite force lol. and elite force also reduced kaz to a one dimensional character cause i’m pretty sure that kaz had some other character traits other than ‘comic relief’ and ‘dumbass’ in mighty med lmao,,,and skylar,,,i don’t even remember much of what happened to skylar in elite force but i’m pretty sure they did her dirty too!!!

and chase oh my god chase, i never thought i would end up hating him but yet here we are lol!!! he’s always been a little egoistical, but the writers just took and amplified that and kind of made it his only prominent character trait and i’m!!! i wanted to smack him! like literally the only other trait i remember he had was that he was whiny and he was wanting to get a girlfriend and the latter thing got so creepy after two episodes of it. it’s shown in lab rats that he does want a girlfriend, okay i can accept that bc i want a girlfriend too lmao, but again the writers took that and made it on a whole other level to the point of borderline obsessiveness over getting a girlfriend??? his tactics for trying to get a gf were so pathetic and creepy (how about try getting a personality for a change lol!) i hated it so fucking much oh my god. he became every single white guy on television character i hate and i hate elite force for turning a character that served as a huge comfort for me during the hardest year of my life into that absolute piece of trash. god.

the only character i was kinda satisfied with was bree’s insecurity plot and that one episode with baby davenport, but even then she came off as incredibly annoying at times and just eeeurgh :))) like i know the disney channel formula for girl characters is to always have them a little obsessed with boys and makeup and looking good and bullshit like that but it was so exasperating hearing about it so much lmfao!!!

and the character dynamics were so fucking stale lmao,,,there was some promise of some interesting new friendships and i was kind of intrigued with bree and kaz’s friendship and chase and skylar’s relationship,,,but then of course disney does nothing but disappoint me and sent it all crashing down :))) i still cannot believe that they had the gall to pair skylar and oliver together even though oliver probably could have won the award for Megacreep #1 after all his unsettling interactions with skylar, i was so fucking uncomfortable for days after i watched the ep where they got together. if they want a romance for skylar so badly, bree is right there u cowards!!!

i’m sorry this got super ranty lmao but u can probably find me at any given time fuming over how much i hated this shitfest of a show :) disney hire me to write your shows you dumb bitch

#I HAVE TOO MUCH USELESS COMMENTARY ABOUT THIS USELESS SHOW I'M SO SORRY USER LABRATSWHORE #also again sorry for answering this so late school is a mighty big bitch #elite force #rookie.msg #labratswhore #i always find it so funny that whenever i think about lab rats for the first time in a really long time i always get some new activity and #asks on here lmao #it's like the lamb sauce located meme except my spurred interest in lab rats for the time being is the lamb sauce

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