#Splash witters

[jgys-hat]

Now I've rewatched The Untamed having now read MDZS, here are some thoughts (in no particular order):

I found myself liking Jin Zixuan a lot more this time around - the first time I watched I found him kind of boring, but this time I really appreciated him for seemingly trying to be kind and fair despite being posh and privileged. I also found his awkwardness endearing... Oh, and Wei Wuxian is a total dick to him on several occasions, to be honest.

I also liked Su She a lot more this time.

I liked Wangxian a more in CQL than in the novel. I think this is because in the novel, WWX can't read LWJ very well, so sometimes I felt that novel!LWJ came off as somewhat of a flat character, whereas in the show the acting gives a better sense of what he might be thinking and feeling at any given moment.

The flashback episode scenes at Cloud Recesses where they're all young, alive and more or less happy are Painful to watch knowing what's coming next...

I really intensely dislike CQL's inclusion of the second flautist plot point. I think the story is more interesting and tragic if WWX really did just overextend himself and lose control.

On a similar note, I preferred that in the novel the curse put on Jin Zixuan was nothing to do with WWX at all - I think something that's got nothing to do with him being pinned on him anyway adds an extra level of tragedy to the story and adds to the themes the story is trying to put across.

I much preferred the greater level of moral ambiguity that the novel had - it made me really sad that WWX does some really awful things but eventually gets to live happily ever after having had a chance to redeem himself, whereas JGY never gets that chance and just dies horribly :(((

I really enjoyed the extra development that CQL gave to the female supporting characters! I feel like CQL gives a much better sense of how Wen Qing is as a person than the novel does.

JIN GUANGYAO THE CHARACTER EVER... Everything I could possibly say about him has already been said by people who are much smarter and better at writing than me, but I love his character so much... He does do some pretty awful things, BUT he gets put in a lot of impossible situations where he would have been absolutely pilloried no matter what he did, poor guy. "JGY did some awful things" and "JGY was genuinely badly treated by a lot of people" are statements that can and should coexist.

The other thing that I find really sad is that JGY meets his end because of the person he (at least in the novel) killed in self-defence and was genuinely afraid of, and not because of anything actually evil he did, like having his dad's pet serial killer murder twenty women... It's really not justice at all, but I think that's likely the point the story is trying to make.

Listen, I'm just so sad about A-Yao... Maybe people should have been nice to him and he wouldn't have committed crimes :)))

He lived so much of his life in fear of one kind or another and then dies humiliated :))) I'm fine this is fine :)))

I am continually astonished that the censors decided "no zombies for you" but something as gross and horrible as the way Jin Guangshan was bumped off is A-OK.

I think that given how different the structure of the drama is from that of the novel, introducing the Yi City trio earlier on was an understandable and sensible change to make.

I think I may need to scream forever about Nie Huaisang's character arc... The fact that by using LXC to kill JGY he's become as manipulative as the person he hated, and has also forced Jin Ling into becoming sect leader at a very young age, just like NHS himself was by the death of his brother, makes me Feel Things...

...As does the fact that his face as he leaves the Guanyin Temple in CQL is not the face of a happy man - it comes across to me as though he's realised that getting revenge hasn't really given him any sense of satisfaction at all. He must know that his peers are unlikely to really trust him again. I love how in his final scene he's dropped the buffoonish act totally, because now his plan has come to fruition he can outwardly be the person he has been inside for a very long time.

NHS is clearly just as capable of Rage as his brother once was, he just expresses it very differently.

Also, the fact that by the end of the story NHS is likely older than his brother ever got to be :)))

I wish CQL had had some way of working in the scene from the novel where NMJ had NHS' things burned - I think it was nice on getting some background on the brothers and on NHS' relationship with JGY.

JGY and NHS were clearly close once, so watching this happen to their relationship is so interesting to me... The betrayal on both sides is just *chef's kiss*... I actually think they're both quite similar in a lot of ways, but that's probably a topic for a separate post!!!

They are both such cool and interesting characters and I love them both!!

[assorted-things]

I chose the short haircut with the design shaved into the side for my custom FemShep, which got me to thinking...

[light-at-the-end-of-the-abyss]

It's the end of the second year and it means it's time to visit our neighbors! Detailed info under the cut

Fogclan

High Ranks: Leader: Cleareyes ~ Male ~ 105 moons ~ Ambitious ~ Clever ~ 9/9 lives Deputy: Ravenpeak ~ Trans Male ~ 33 moons ~ Adventurous ~ Masterfull Storyteller ~ Good Mediator Medicine cat: Fruitpelt ~ Male ~ 116 moons ~ Adventurous ~ Valuable Insight Mediator: Prickleknot ~ Male ~ 92 moons ~ Ambitious ~ Good Mediator ~ Good Teacher New cats: Beetlekit ~ Male ~ 1 moon ~ Polite ~ Careful Listener ~ Kit of Dreamnut and Fruitpelt Houndkit ~ Female ~ 1 moon ~ Bullying ~ Quick to Help ~ Kit of Dreamnut and Fruitpelt Deaths: Goldermask ~ Male ~ 166 moons ~ Compassionate ~ Good Teacher ~ Good Speaker ~ Died of old age Greenstar/newt ~ Female ~ 127 moons ~ Loving ~ Very Clever ~ Lost Living Clan Cats: 15

Abyssclan

High Ranks: Leader: Violetstar ~ Male ~ 136 moons ~ Confident ~ Unusually Strong Fighter ~ 9/9 lives Deputy: Hydraquill ~ Male ~ 111 moons ~ Nervous ~ Great Speaker Medicine cat: Tiny ~ Female ~ 160 moons ~ Strict ~ Beloved Kitsitter Firefly ~ Female ~ 159 moons ~ Strange ~ Fast as the Wind Gullburn ~ Male ~ 92 moons ~ Daring ~ Clever New cats: Twigchomp ~ Nonbinary ~ 47 moons ~ Charismatic ~ Helpful Insight ~ Former Kittypet Hazyfrond ~ Female ~ 15 moons ~ Insecure ~ Lore Keeper ~ Helpful Insight ~ Former Loner Hatsune Miku ~ Male ~ 13 moons ~ Childish ~ Great Teacher ~ Former Kittypet Burnetpaw ~ Female ~ 9 moons ~ Bloodthirsty ~ Lover of Stories ~ Former Fogclan Apprentice Deaths: None Living Clan Cats: 25

Lightningclan

High Ranks: Leader: Lightstar ~ Female ~ 73 moons ~ Faithful ~ Learner of Lore ~ Prophesy Interpeter ~ 9/9 lives Deputy: Ashenflit ~ Female ~ 111 moons ~ Charismatic ~ Great Kitsitter ~ Great Hunter Medicine cats: Ochrepelt ~ Female ~ 88 moons ~ Loving ~ Great Climber New cats: Curly ~ Male ~ 36 moons ~ Shameless ~ Great Storyteller ~ Great Teacher ~ Former Loner Gladebright ~ Male ~ 15 moons ~ Ambitious ~ Natural Intuition ~ Former Kittypet Scratchpaw ~ Female ~ 9 moons ~ Righteous ~ Constantly Climbing ~ Half-clan kit of Ochrepelt Mottledpaw ~ Male ~ 9 moons ~ Loyal ~ Constantly Climbing ~ Lover of Stories ~ Half-clan kit of Ochrepelt Echopaw ~ Male ~ 9 moons ~ Cold ~ Constantly Climbing ~ Restless Sleeper ~ Half-clan kit of Ochrepelt Poppypaw ~ Female ~ 9 moons ~ Sneaky ~ Quick to Help ~ Avid play-fighter ~ Half-clan kit of Ochrepelt Hollypaw ~ Male ~ 7 moons ~ Compassionate ~ Splashes in Puddles ~ Outsider roots kit of Copperdrop Starlingpaw ~ Female ~ 7 moons ~ Adventurous ~ Careful Listener ~ Outsider roots kit of Copperdrop Smallpaw ~ Female ~ 7 moons ~ Calm ~ Interested in Herbs ~ Outsider roots kit of Copperdrop Deaths: Confetti ~ Female ~ 74 moons ~ Lonesome ~ Good Teacher ~ Den Builder ~ Killed by a Snake Cloverthistle ~ Trans Female ~ 60 moons ~ Compassionate ~ Clever ~ Died of Greencough Garlicheart ~ Female ~ 29 moons ~ Ambitious ~ Good Mediator ~ Died on Abyssclan's border Crestedspore ~ Male ~ 103 moons ~ Cold ~ Good mediator ~ Great Storyteller ~ Died of Heatstroke Branchstrike ~ Female ~ 95 moons ~ Cunning ~ Valuable Insight ~ Good Teacher ~ Exiled for murder of Lyrewhisker Living Clan Cats: 15

Shiningclan

High Ranks: Leader: Pinestar ~ Male ~ 130 moons ~ Bold ~ Good mediator ~ Good Swimmer ~ 9/9 lives Deputy: Tadpolemask ~ Male ~ 80 moons ~ Daring ~ Great Climber Medicine cats: Rowanpaw ~ Male ~ 15 moons ~ Interested in Clan History New cats: Neel ~ Female ~ 28 moons ~ Righteous ~ Great Climber ~ Former kittypet Tawnystem ~ Female ~ 11 moons ~ Bloodthirsty ~ Good Mediator ~ Half-clan kit of Pinestar Pansypaw ~ Male ~ 11 moons ~ Lonesome ~ Quick to help ~ Half-clan kit of Pinestar Lightpaw ~ Female ~ 11 moons ~ Righteous ~ Interested in Clan History ~ Half-clan kit of Pinestar Marigoldpaw ~ Female ~ 8 moons ~ Bloodthirsty ~ Quick-witter ~ Confident with Words ~ Half-clan kit of Clearblaze Shardpaw ~ Female ~ 8 moons ~ Shameless ~ Careful Listener ~ Avid play-fighter ~ Half-clan kit of Stormbird Echopaw ~ Female ~ 8 moons ~ Rebellious ~ Constantly Climbing ~ Outsider roots kit of Tadpolemask Deaths: Butterflypaw ~ Female ~ 7 moons ~ Confident ~ Confident with Words ~ Half-clan kit of Stormbird ~ Murdered by Hazelpounce Hazelpounce ~ Male ~ 138 moons ~ Insecure ~ Unnatural Senses ~ Learner of lore ~ Exiled for murder of Butterflypaw Living Clan Cats: 20

[bridgertonbabe]

I’m guessing it’s a certain merman by the name of Gareth who keeps having to rescue Hyacinth whenever she throws herself off the ship.

Newly-recruited for the position of guarding the land folk on their sea voyages, Gareth had been forewarned about the challenges he might face due to stormy weather and choppy waters although he had been assured those conditions didn't happen as often as he'd expect. The biggest task at hand however and one he'd been informed he'd be faced with on an almost daily basis would be volleying the youngest human princess back onboard any sea vessel she could stow her way onto.

And sure enough on his first day on the job within minutes of the ship he was ferrying setting sail, someone splashed into the water beside him and he stared in awe at the human princess with an affinity for life under the sea and merpeople. He dutifully chucked her back up and was thanked by an exasperated King Anthony, but that was just the start of his many encounters with Hyacinth.

However Hyacinth didn't just stop at hurling herself from ships. She constantly snuck out from the castle down to the cove and explored the underwater realm as best she could. She had built up an impressive record of holding her breath underwater and she tried her best to swim after the merfolk she spotted in the vicinity. It didn't matter how many times her mother and Anthony scolded her for showing up late to balls or how she constantly ran about the castle dripping wet in her chemise and pantalettes from her continuous swims in the sea, Hyacinth couldn't be deterred from having her aquatic adventures. It reached a point where during his weekly meeting with King Richard, Anthony wearily asked if it wasn't too much trouble if the merpeople could simply keep an eye on Hyacinth should they spot her around the shallows of the island kingdom. Richard vowed that they would and assured it was no trouble, with most of the merfolk more than accustomed to Hyacinth and having grown fond of her love for their world.

One time Gareth was summoned by his grandmother, who asked him if he could take over supervising the princess as she explored a coral reef. Gareth dutifully did and every time Hyacinth pointed at a sea object and looked to him expectantly he provided her with the answer to her unspoken question. From that meeting onwards Gareth somehow ended up as Hyacinth's personal aquatic companion as he supervised her wherever she swam. He had never met anyone quite like her from either sea or shore, and whenever she resurfaced for air she would breathlessly witter away about everything they had just explored which only made him admire her more.

Then one evening Hyacinth asked him to meet her in the lagoon and when she arrived he was mesmerised by the ballgown she wore and her perfectly styled hair, looking a far cry from her usual appearance. Hyacinth informed him she had ditched her own birthday ball, having no interest in any of the young nobility she had been introduced to; all she wanted to do was spend her birthday with Gareth. Before he could stop her she had jumped into the lagoon and he held her by the waist, keeping her head above the water in fear of her losing the tiara she wore. Hyacinth wrapped her arms around his neck, caressed his face, and told him there was no other person she'd rather spend time with than him; and with the moon shining down on them they shared their first kiss.

[ladybellissima]

Secrets Dark Link x Reader Part 1

The first thing she noticed was the terrible cold, which slowly ingulfed her body and tickled on her skin uncontrollably. It was silent. A dangerous silence and she knew all too well, that her life was on the line now. The dark atmosphere around her was enough to realize in which trouble she was in.

"God my body hurts…", she whispered exhausted and slowly tried to get up, but the sight before her, let her froze in the spot. Eyes widened, her look wandered around her surroundings and let her gasp of shock. She knew that it was daytime, but there was no sunlight. The environment around her was wittered and slightly covered by an uncomfortable fog. She knew this place. Everyone at Hyrule knew it, but only stories were told of its look. She was surprised that all the gossip, legends and talkings about it were totally true. It was a terrifying land and no one ever dares to step across the border to reach it on free will, because evil was lurking around every corner.

The dark realm.

"(Y/N)…This time you messed up pretty bad", she whispered to herself and felt completely lost of what to do. How could things excelate like that? Shuddering of the happenings moments before, (Y/N) couldn't believe that she was still alive. Even, if it led her into this mess. She could clearly see the scene before her eyes. Her once laughing and smiling self of having a great time at Lake Hylia with her family and friends and the next moment, terrifyed of facing an gigantic storm. The weather had often changed, if it got quite hot, but this time it was overwhelming. Dark clouds let everyone pack their things to leave. (Y/N) quickly gathered everything together, which she took with her. The wind got stronger with every second and with it everyone's uneasiness. Sadly she was further away from the others, because of some exploring by the lake and needed more time. The moment she was ready, she noticed how difficult it got to just walk normally. The wind pushed her roughly forward. Looking out, she was relieved that her family was already rushing inside the laboratory for safety. (Y/N) remebered how her mother was calling for her by the door. The image of her scared expression still gave her goosebumps. She was running. Like a maniac she followed the path to get to the others, but it was too late.  Everyone was screaming her name. Her parents were about to leave their shelter to help her, but were stopped by the others for their useless attempt. With force, she was lifted up in the air and roughly flew in all directions. Her vision got blurry of the cold wind. Heavy raindrops splashed against her skin and felt like to get slapped by someone. Screaming, (Y/N) hugged herself and tried to protect her body of the impact, which soon would come. She lost her orientation. Didn't realize at that moment, she would soon lose everything she got. Up and down, turning and falling, the storm ingulfed her completely and dragged her away.

Far away.

But never would (Y/N) have thought to land here. And still alive. In between her journey she desperately believed that this was her end now. She would sure crash into something and die alone somewhere unknown. But she survived this hell of a ride, but wasn't sure, if she should be happy about it. Her current situation was far more worse than being in that storm. Slowly she tried to get up and felt relieved that she was able to walk. Still a bit dizzy, (Y/N) gave her body a closer look for any injuries and bite her lip after touching a big bloody gash on her arm.

"It must have been the shock that i didn't recognize it sooner.", she whispered and teared up her already torn shirt to cover the wound with its fabric. Hugging herself she watched her surroundings uneasy. Where to go? It seemed that she landed in some kind of woodland. She didn't know how far she traveled across the border. How deep she was trapped in this world, which was forbidden to enter for people of the light realm. Honestly no one would dare to go there. Everyone knows how dangerous it was. After all, it was Ganondorf's territory. A sudden sound of breaking wood let her jump back in fear. Desperately searching for the source, (Y/N) could feel how she slowly lost the control of her body. Her emotions took over. Frightened she started to run. The feeling to be watched was unbearable.

Who was already after her?

Which monster would get her and end her life in the most cruel way possible?

Tears rolled down her face. Helplessly she ran deeper and deeper into the unknown. In a way it felt pathetic to run away from evil and at the same time, maybe run right into it. The sound of growling let her stumble and whimpering frustrated.

"It's useless… completely useless. Where should i go…where to hide….", (Y/N) sobbed bitterly, but still her body kept moving. It was like an inner instinct to fight till her last breath. Suddenly she bumped into something hard and fell roughly onto her back. Shocked her look landed onto a black horse, which pierced her with its intense look. Before she was able to look up to its owner, she could hear noises behind her back and quickly turned around to see what was going on. It was like the darkness was slowly consuming her. Eyes in all different kind of colors appeared in the dark and were watching her shaken form dangerously. Holding her breath she stepped back and could feel the other dangerous power behind her. Holding onto her torn shirt, she turned around again and looked up to be met with pure horror.

Deep red eyes were glaring down at her for coming so close. Snow white hair, long and pulled back into a ponytail. Pale skin, only seen by demons and clothed in pitch black, he quietly observed her ridiculous existence. The growling started to get louder, but she was glued to the ground and couldn't move anymore. The man's look narrowed and wandered behind her, which let the monsters at the back fell silent in an instant. (Y/N) was trapped and by the way the other cretaures were acting, she sure had the luck to run into a very dangerous person. Alone the way he looked, dressed like a soldier, she was sure that he was one of Ganondorf's fighters. Breathing heavily, she fall to her knees. (Y/N) never pleaded for her life. Never felt so scared and facing death in such a horrible situation. The unknown was making her crazy. It was too much to handle that she completely gave up. Exhausted of the events, her vision got black and fell uncouncious.

"Pathetic…"

His deep intimitating voice was the last thing she noticed. The monsters were growling hungrily and getting impatient. Slowly they made their way to their target, while licking their lips in amusement.

"Did i allow you to come closer?", the warriors angered tone let them jump back in fear and whimpering helplessly. Looking down, he thought of what to do with her. It wasn't everyday that someone from the other side got this far into the dark realm. He was curious. Interested, if this was maybe some kind of plan of the princess of hyrule. But beside that this woman didn't really look like a spy, she also seemed quite helpless and weak.

"Who knows…Maybe that's an act.", he whispered to himself and got down from his horse. Stepping beside her and getting down on one knee, he brushed some hair out of her face. He could just leave and end this, by letting the monsters do their work, but he couldn't get himself to move.

He wanted to know.

Taking her bridal style, he got back onto his horse and left into the darkness. On his way, he pulled his black cape over her form to hide her from the others.

He hated it to get disturbed by someone. No one should see or find out, till he decided to.

Her life was in his hand.

[cunningmosswords]

#09 Hunt of the Departed 

The Ones Left Wondering

“Cinder hounds peeled from cinder remains”

Issue nine is for all that remains in spooky long darkening days. Isolated, cold, and eroding away are those who stayed and those who lost their way. Follow mares, cinder hounds, the departed dead and what they will share and fare in death. 

I watch as the ground gets too close 

I watch as my head hits the dirt rock 

I watch as the words slip out of reach 

I watch as muscles flinch and chest flutters 

I watch as crimson bleeds in pools and stutters

I watch as it stains and the deep pains stay

I watch as the feeling leaves a tasteless taste 

I watch as it all moves in its raw decaying state 

I watch and watch 

and I watch- struck stuck 

I watch till I forgot I was lost,

What was lost?

I watch till I watch no more 

I depart to wonder on  

Looking for whatever it was 

-

Somewhere, they left as dead 

Flesh gone, bones sunk 

Broken, morphing stated songs

Shells of the wittering wants 

Are all the departed ones 

Searching for what once was 

She visits under a moonless sky, a dark pitcher of watered mist and driftwood twist, leaving dips in the earth as she strides. Walking with the dripping clip clop of hooves through village paths, she passes where candle lights are hushed and folk people pretend to sleep, eyes folded blind, feet cold as ice, waiting for the hunt to arrive. Their homes have stopped to a peculiar still, where fire cinders still weep and dinner tables are left prepped with a makeshift feast, which is more than the contents of their rationed fed howling stomachs. Food is better spent on the dead around these parts, the dear and the lost, holding out offerings for the Mare in her yearly gracing, appearing in between ending winters and before the sprung of waking spring. 

Between the dips and enclaves of hollow hills and carved trees, the Mare shifts her weight at ley line points and waits for the winds to rise and burst out from the dark. Waits for the touch, the grasp that life is wandering and the bodies are sitting, rotting, waiting, lying for the answer of her shearing cry. There is a gasp of grief, a gasp of care, they’d exchange fortunes for last visits for the departing was so unfair. Mare waits in their waiting for the precise moment, head tossing back, the moulting river of mane splashing and muzzle screeches aloud, those light cinders weeping turn to a burst of murky fire. 

Cinder hounds peeled from cinder remains, roaring to life on the brink of the once dead flame. Their reach is in the whiff of smoke and char on wood and stone, table corners, cracks in plates and the furs singed in curled ends, they wake in homes of those waiting for departeds and storm the doors in all its cracks, creaks and open window breeze. They run with silver eyes and navy miles, through the village paths, and the narrow stacks, looking for the molded dead to remake at last. 

This sleepy wake had more bodies than you would think, lost in hollowed out trenches, young in the broken open bed of the woods, children who had been stuck in devil tree gaps and maidens who lost too much heart, found hanging in their threaded ending veins. The folk had lost a lot of souls in many different ways, whose vessels had not turned up in searches, crumbled to the jaws of animals’ wilds, sunk in the bottom of river streams, and left by greedy hands who picked tokens from the remaining and forgot respect to mark the bodies with clear naming. 

But cinder hounds knew their names, knew them from those who waited hungrily for the departed to return to the memory of glory days. Mare reared up to the winds and hounds answered the hunting call, searching through the slips of time that had wrecked the remains of the waiting dead and all. They rushed at their hands, arms and toes, pulling at boots, sleeves and skirts that had worn and merged with the moss and dirt. Pushing heads forward and dragging those detached from their form, pushing and pulling in packs of charcoal cinder lights, crisping bushes on their hurried minds. The souls hooked back into their bodies with aching joints, propping and folding to the wave of welcome and following into lines of somewhat mortal fines. They were guided out from the trees, the rocks and the rivers and aided to a better shape, though it were to be a disturbing mix of soulful spirit and the open fleshed bones that remain. The clothes were a finishing courtesy to hide the worst of their ending eroded state. 

Mare waited for the stomp of shoes, the click and clatter of half filled glasses, the smoke of cinder hound paws, watching longingly at the parade of bodies who could finally walk their way home. The dead’s memories started to tip back into their heads like a drink of water to a dying flower, the searching and the forgetting had been healed in this sudden youthful waking. And these dead, these dead wanted nothing more than a meal with their families who did not get to lay the lost of them to rest. So they huddled together with Mare singing a song, guiding the brood to what remained of home. They swayed, crumbling and remending with smoke and fire whisks, nature clinging to them, growing aided limbs and sticks, and hiding the stench of death's best scent. Cinder hounds bounded at their hunted finds and they knew the reliving would all pay a wealthy price to their shining eyes. 

Candles unlit became lit again, as folk gathered behind doors, eyes folded and hands jittering to hear the voices of those gone, lost from last spring's wake. The dead greeted them ecstatically knocking at doors with a dance of knowing they could finally be home with precious loved ones. Cinder hounds walked at the heel of their feet, observing as families spoke lively though their eyes could not see, all well to spare them of such gruesome looking things. But they knew, they knew they were not tricked, that their loved ones would walk through the doors and eat a meal, sit together, parting words and wisdom before a final goodbye must be said and done.

In all their greeting joy, one soulful body lay headless, his head gone, his memories flattened, he did not know who he was or who was waiting for him. His cinder hound whined and shuffled aside as Mare stalked forward to his side, pitied him in his lonesome state, with no call of memory to end the searching pain. She looked and wondered whether there was anyone here at all to call him. The cinder hound could not sniff out the home, no candle was re-lit or left alone, and this body wasn’t to be named properly after all. He began to moult and slip and sink into the ground, for what use was waking to know that you aren't truly found? But instead of allowing him to fade the Mare did something unusual, she offered him, the soulful lost, a ride. It would not be nice, it would have a price to live in death unknowing of what was but she too was lonely in her watching and waiting role. Hesitant on such a notion the headless strangler absorbed, assured, that nothing here knew him or wanted him home, there was nothing to him after this call. 

The only answer left was a binding yes, I'm sure.

Darkness was fading when families wished their last goodbyes as the parade of bodies returned to door frames and cinder hounds followed out with scrapes of meals and burnt firewood in their bellies’ stay. The dead slipped tokens into hands as blinded eyes let tears spill, they held small touches and shared soulful words before doors sorrowfully closed and the dead stared motionless. What was next, they did not think that ahead but the strangler knew it wasn't going to be such a pleasant end.

Cinder hounds waited for candlelight to die before bursting with sharp smoking teeth and darkened eyes. They did their job to hunt and find, now it was devouring feeding time. They took to the bodies and tore into flesh remaining, pulled apart bones and fabric that was swaying, tore them to bits, singed and waffled, destroyed what was of the departed till there was nothing to say they had awoken. The pair of lonely watchers watched together as Mare's song rang on, overshadowing the cries of those regretful of trade and saddened that things will never be the same, sparring the ache of those now fast asleep- who will think of their past loves happily so. Cinder hounds are quick to strike, grabbing at souls before they vanish, sinking teeth into that spark, holding on, not giving up till dawn breaks the sky above, they don't dare give them a chance to escape without paying their part.

For cinder hounds and lingering caught souls don't simply merge away, they together dive into their master to remerge again as tasked hunters before the following spring has sprung its first flowers. Their smoke dispirits, bone’s crush to ash, and I assure you the act alone hurts, diving into pitch black waters to form small split stars on the Mare's surface of misty murk. The strangler's body flinched, without a head, the sight was buried but the sound was strangling, for the night has been unpleasant and there will be many unpleasant nights to follow, where hounds obediently follow and souls trade the last of their bodies' marrow.  

Mare didn’t reassure him, didn’t give him a chance to think- just trotted on knowing pain had been taken from hurt hearts, grief had been swallowed and buried in her own heart. They’d sleep less cold, food would return warm, and less broken was their home that had been missing the departed wandering souls- it was a moment we lost things adore. Mist followed, mist left, remains of this year's dead were long vanished from these valley’s lengths. 

© 2023 Cunning Moss Words - Written by Anayis N. Der Hakopian

[ladymercysletters]

In Amongst the Roses

Colin Bridgerton x Reader

Word Count : 1387

Warnings: fluff, pining

A/N: I don’t know what I wanted to write but I wanted to kiss Colin so there’s that.

***

Your mother rushed around you as you kicked your slippers off and walked to the window. You had just arrived at Aubrey Hall at the invitation of the Dowager Viscountess and your mother was most excited that all of the Bridgerton men were in residence, not to mention a fair few more that had been invited along with their younger sisters or wards.

“Come now Y/N we must change out of these travel clothes, there are already several young ladies in the gardens and we can be certain that there are no eligible gentlemen in this room.” She bickered, busying around the room as your lady’s maids unpacked your luggage.

“Mother, half the rooms are not yet occupied – and I am fairly certain at least a quarter of those that are, are occupied by Bridgerton’s.” you sighed, looking out over the large rolling estate, spotting a glistening lake and dappled forest in the near distance.

After a swift half an hour in the hands Iris, your lady’s maid, your hair was re curled into a neat coiffure and your favourite muslin dress was carefully slipped over it before you were whisked downstairs by your mother to thank your hosts, yet again for their gracious invitation. Unfortunately for your mother, as you descended the stairs you found only Violet Bridgerton in the entrance hall, still greeting incoming guests.

“You’re entirely welcome.” She said with a beautiful smile. “I am so sorry my son isn’t here to thank you himself, though having been in town for so long he has many matters to deal with at the moment, I’m sure you can understand?” Your mother fawned in agreement, going off about the delicate décor of the ceiling and the wonderful portraits on the walls. Your eyes drifted to the open doors around you, all of them offering you glimpses into each of them. “Please, feel free to wander Miss Y/LN.” Violet Bridgerton said, drawing you out of your daze. “Some of the ladies have already gathered in the drawing room and several guests have gone to the gardens” she gestured through a door to the open French windows.

“Yes, Y/N. Go along” your mother gestured eagerly. You nodded your thanks and curtsied before making your escape down the hall. Making your way into an unoccupied room you found yourself in the library. At least you expected it was the library, it was full of books. Walking over to the French windows in the corner of the room, the early afternoon light shaded by encroaching ivy, you spotted some young children running on the lawn in the distance. You watched them play for a while, the small boy whipping the ribbon from the hair of the little girl before running off over the hill – only to be chased back up it by a young gentleman.

You opened the doors and stepped out onto the secluded patio, watching as the man played with the young children as if he was still their age. You smiled and crossed your arms as you walked towards them, noting the distance from the rest of their party as you crossed the short distance.

“Miss Y/LN” he looked up from his kneeling position, surprised at your sudden appearance. The children halted for only a moment at your appearance before the young girl took the opportunity to bolt across the lawn to take refuge behind a tall gentleman holding a mallet.

“Mr Bridgerton” you greeted, smiling as he stood and brushed the dirt from his sleeves.

“Y/N” he whispered lower, looking around before stepping closer to take your hands in his.

“Colin” you replied, matching his love-struck look with your own blushing grin. He held your hands tighter and pulled you just an inch nearer to him as a loud cheer went up in the distance, catching your attention – only to find the company distracted by a ball rolling away down the hill. Finding his opportunity, Colin pulled you away into the covered rose garden: hidden with high hedges and climbing roses, he guided you through the perfectly manicured bushes, down the cobbled path and around the small water feature to the deepest, most secret spot he knew hidden. You laughed at his boyish dashing when he tugged you along with him, until you were nestled away in your quiet corner, the sounds of guests dulled by nature and the gentle splash of water.

“Y/N” he whispered again, softer this time, as he allowed the distance to close between you; bringing a hand up to your soft cheek to brush his finger over your heated skin. “I’m so glad you came.” His soft full lips brushed your brow as he spoke, as if speaking words into air.

“My mother would not have refused the invitation had there been a gorilla in attendance.” You joked “she does wish for me to make a prosperous match” you sighed, avoiding his eyes.

“And I am still not good enough to please the great Mrs Y/LN?” Colin questioned, pressing you back into a tree as he nuzzled the side of your face.

“Colin do not jest” you pushed at his chest, drawing his attention back to your face. “I love you…”

“And I you.” He interrupted, his hands burning into your skin, through the almost sheer muslin of your dress. Your hand came to cup the back of his neck, playing with the soft curls at the base as a silence settled between you.

“She thinks you too young,” you paused, watching as his brow creased to dismiss her “and a rake in the making for all the women that fawn over you.” You smiled, up at him, glad to halt his protest. Colins arms wound around you further, fully holding you too him as he spun you around and sat you on his knee as he took a seat on a bench.

“But I suppose my brother is still an excellent match in her eyes?” he prodded again, satisfied with the new position he found himself in.

“Oh of course, one can overlook anything for a title!” you laughed, mocking your mothers flustered wittering’s whenever Anthony was near. You wriggled out of his loose grip and stood to wander back to the tree. Colin kept a hold of your hand as you walked away, making you turn when he didn’t release. “I wouldn’t care for a title.” You said out of the blue. “I don’t think I’d suit it?”

“I think you would suit the title of Mrs very well” Colin said, standing up to sweep you back into his arms and against the tree once more.

“Colin, stop” you smiled and his wandering hands tickled your skin.

“I will marry you” he whispered into your ear through your laughter. Your laughter died down as you caught his eye. “I promise. I will talk to my mother, and Anthony” he added. “And I will talk to your mother” he said softer “I will make her sure of my love for you so much so that she cannot deny us.” His lips were a hairs width from yours, his emerald green eyes appeared almost black at the distance between you. His lips brushed yours with such softness you were almost brought to tears. Memories of your first stolen kiss came flooding back as his lips captured yours. The soft, sweet smell of him engulfed you as he pulled you ever closer. His tongue licked against the seam of your mouth, pressing for entrance which you happily granted. You stayed like that for what felt like an age and a heartbeat all at once – locked in each-other’s arms as nothing but pure love flowed between you.

Pulling back only a little, Colin had to almost physically restrain himself from pressing you up against the tree once more and taking further liberties; the warmth and redness of your lips and the soft heavy pants of your breath driving him to distraction. “I will speak with them now.” He set you down and stepped back “I can wait no longer.” He almost shouted as he hastened back towards the house, leaving you breathless and panting by yourself against the shady tree. With a smile on your face and a cool breeze washing away your flush, you knew everything would work out in the end.

[jaskierswolf]

My dearest darling Wolfie, I saw your idea for game gerlion friends to lovers in @thewitcherbog horny chat and I am here to ask you to write the fic. Pls 💜😘

Tada!! I can't remember if this was exactly what I had planned... but it's what we're getting. Lovingly beta'd by @comfyswitcherblanketfort.

CW: probably rated M? Briefly mentioned masturbation more horny than smutty.

____

A retirement at Corvo Bianco had never been what Geralt expected of his life. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told a young Dandelion that witcher’s never retire, but in recent years between looting caves and haggling for contracts, he’d managed to save quite a bit of coin. He was, objectively, rich. He had the best armour on the Continent, the most deadly swords and crossbow bolts, and thanks to B.B., his house was beautifully decorated, with the exception of the rather garish portrait of his most loyal friend. Yet, he was still gaining more money than he knew what to do with. He’d started investing in merchants and refusing payment but the vineyard brought in a steady income and Geralt had to admit that his life was pretty luxurious these days.

So it wasn’t exactly a surprise when Dandelion had turned up, in fine, brightly coloured silks and the elegantly decorated elven lute from so many years ago. Geralt sometimes wondered whether Toruviel had enchanted her lute. There was barely a scratch and Geralt couldn’t even recall Dandelion ever having to change the lute strings in all the years he’d known the bard. Geralt was no expert but he was pretty sure that you were supposed to change the lute strings.

The sun was shining over the fields of Corvo Bianco, and Geralt felt at peace. Perhaps that was why he was feeling so nostalgic, pondering over the events that had led him to this moment. His life had always been so busy, but with Ciri off touring the multiverse, and Yennefer doing whatever Yennefer did these days now the Djinn wish had been broken, he was… well… bored? He had every Gwent card currently made, and no one would play him. It was just him and the bard, living the bachelor’s life in Touissant.

So was it any wonder that Geralt had started to develop feelings for his friend? Perhaps they’d always been there, clouded by the wish that tied him to Yennefer, or perhaps their newfound domesticity had awoken something in Geralt that he had never expected. Dandelion spent a lot of time in the makeshift study, working on his latest book, but they always ate together and sometimes the bard would even accompany Geralt on his contracts in the fields, for old times sake. After long nights of drinking too much wine or vodka, it wasn’t unusual for the pair of them to fall asleep together, curled up in one bed just like they used to in their youth. Those were Geralt’s favourite nights, because despite his protests of being better alone, he enjoyed the familiar warmth of another body pressed against his, and Dandelion had always been a cuddler.

And as if on cue, the bard burst through the doors onto the patio where Geralt was watching the world go by.

“Ah, Geralt, old friend, there you are. I’ve been looking all over for you!” Dandelion announced with a flick of his wrist. “I was just in town.”

“Dandelion,” Geralt groaned. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“Dear Henrietta will forgive me in time, my friend,” Dandelion winked, his tongue flicking out between his lips, “and until then I have plenty of friends who will offer me shelter if the guards are around.”

“You look like a man sized peacock,” Geralt scoffed. “How the hell does no one see you?”

“Ah, dear witcher, you forget that I used to be a spy,” Dandelion laughed, putting one hand on his hips. “Now, stop interrupting, Geralt, or do you not care about the gift I picked out for you in town today?”

Geralt hummed, knowing that it didn’t really matter whether he cared or not. Nothing would stop Dandelion once he was in the middle of a story. Some things just never changed. “Go on.”

Dandelion beamed, and from behind his back he produced a wooden box. The poet cocked his head as he opened the lid, revealing a set of tiny vials neatly lined up. Geralt almost choked, his breath catching in his throat.

“Oil?” he spluttered. A man such as Dandelion had to know of the more promiscuous uses of oil. Whilst Dandelion had never explicitly said as such, the way he talked of his lovers had always led Geralt to believe that he was rather flexible in his tastes, much like Geralt himself.

The poet blushed as he pulled a single vial from the box, his long lutist fingers wrapping around the glass. “Bath oils, Geralt.”

“Oh, of course,” Geralt cursed internally. Dandelion had bought all sorts of expensive oils and lotions when they had been on the path together, neither of them were shy with their bathing habits and the poet was a highly skilled masseur.

Which was not helping Geralt’s sudden rush of arousal as he remembered the feel of the poet’s hands on his skin. They’d laughed off awkward erections in the past, it was just a thing that happened… but Geralt was starting to wonder what would happen if, for once, they let it happen.

“This one will probably be a bit much for your witcher senses, my friend, but I rather like it,” Dandelion continued, oblivious to Geralt's inner turmoil. “This one,” another vial was plucked from the box, “however, I think you will like, and I managed to buy this,” Dandelion pulled a scroll from his pocket, “from a local mage. It’s supposed to move the water around the tub, like a massage!”

“And you’re telling me this, why?” Geralt sighed, rolling his eyes. As much as he adored his old friend, the man could take his sweet time getting to the point. It was even worse when the poet and Regis got together, Geralt honestly thought he might never know peace again.

“Because, Geralt, I am treating my dearest friend to an extravagant bath time experience!” Dandelion exclaimed with wide arms, almost knocking off his own hat in his enthusiasm. “Friendship and love, art and wine, Geralt. What more could you want in life?”

Love.

No, friendship. Geralt needed to focus on that. How many times had Dandelion called him his friend? Too many to count.

“Assuming you have wine, what’s the art?” Geralt smirked, enjoying the offended noises Dandelion made.

“Geralt, I’ll have you know that-”

“Relax, Dandelion. I’m teasing. So how about this bath then?”

The two men made their way upstairs, peeling off their outer clothes as they strolled past Geralt’s bedroom, and picking up a robe each. Dandelion had filled the room with candles, and there was a soft floral scent hanging in the air, roses, the oil vial that Dandelion had initially held up.

“I thought this one was too much for my ‘witcher senses’?” Geralt scoffed, peering at the magically bubbling water.

“Well, yes, but I did also say I liked this one, and I’ll admit that I got a little carried away. You don’t mind, do you Geralt?”

Geralt shook his head as he stripped off his final layer of clothing and settled into the tub. Dandelion sat in a chair, still wrapped in his robe, and picked up his lute. He plucked idly at the strings until he was seemingly happy that they were in tune, and then he began to sing. Geralt sighed as he sank deeper into the hot water, the enchantment really did feel like a sort of massage as jets of water pulsed against his skin, but he couldn’t help but wonder. The oils, the candles, the romantic ballad…

Was his friend trying to tell him something?

It was time for Geralt to test the waters as it was. He trod the water with his hand, gently splashing to the beat of Dandelion’s song. Normally, he would close his eyes and let the poet’s music fill the room, but instead he was mesmerised by the way Dandelion’s finger caressed the lute strings. Geralt could feel his cock harden as he pondered what other uses his friend’s delicate hands could have, the way they found their mark with such precision. The poet could make any instrument sing to the gods in his hands, Geralt was sure that he was no exception.

“Practicing your fingering?” he asked Dandelion with a tilt of his head.

The strings twanged unpleasantly, making Geralt grimace as the sound reverberated in his head. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

Geralt smirked. “On your lute.”

“Right, yes, of course,” Dandelion muttered. “I’m just trying to figure out the next verse. I could use a hand, or an ear if you’d be willing to help.”

“I have a hand you could use, or two,” Geralt muttered not really intending for Dandelion to hear him but the poet had sharp ears and he spluttered incoherently as he set down his lute.

Geralt hummed and let his hand drop beneath the water, stroking his cock lazily. He wasn’t really chasing any real pleasure, but it was a good feeling, sending warmth across his skin. The bath, the candles, the song, they had to mean something even in Dandelion’s subconsciousness. The man was an insatiable flirt, and yet never seemed to notice when others’ affections were cast upon him, not unless it was blunt in its honesty.

So Geralt would be blunt.

He closed his eyes as he continued to stroke the length of his cock, the motion causing the water to ripple slightly, but not yet enough to draw Dandelion’s attention. The poet was too busy wittering on about his rhymes, only noticing when Geralt’s breath hitched as he cupped his balls.

“Geralt?”

“Dandelion,” Geralt grunted softly, his pleasure beginning to build from a warm ember to a roaring blaze that burned through him. The poet’s cornflower blue eyes were on him, dark and hungry. His cheeks were flushed rosy, and it seemed his dear friend was finally catching onto what was happening.

“I- I can leave, my friend, if you would prefer…”

“Stay,” Geralt insisted. “This not what you had in mind?”

“Well,” Dandelion laughed. “I had hoped, but I never thought it would actually happen, and well, really I thought it might take a little more convincing. Who knew all I needed all along were a few cheap candles?”

“Just get in the bath, Dandelion,” Geralt growled.

“Okay, okay,” Dandelion said with a roll of his eyes but shrugged out of his robe, allowing Geralt to admire his slender form. The poet’s cock remained soft as he stepped into the water. “So… how long?”

“Hmm?”

“How long have I been more than just a friend to you, Geralt?” Dandelion asked, settling into the water with a soft moan. His hands resting on Geralt’s thighs, fingers drawing patterns on Geralt’s skin under the water.

It wasn’t an easy question to answer. Could he even pin it down? Geralt wasn’t sure.

“Hard to tell, our friendship has never exactly been normal, Dandelion,” Geralt admitted.

Dandelion laughed, leaning forward in the tub, his hands stroking up Geralt’s thigh, the movement forcing the air from Geralt’s lungs. “You know, you’re right, and I think we should celebrate.”

“Celebrate?”

“Mhmm, and how about we start with a kiss?” Dandelion winked, before falling into Geralt embrace with a splash.

[gingerteaonthetardis]

𝟛𝟙 𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕗𝕚𝕔𝕞𝕒𝕤: 𝕕𝕖𝕔. 𝟚𝟚

in which the doctor has a history with a classic dessert.

pairing: nine x rose (past doctor x charley) // rating: teen (for mild discussions of death) // read on ao3. // read yesterday’s prompt. // @doctorroseprompts​

-

To Rose's way of thinking, the Doctor wasn't exactly making a great case for himself.

"No," he growled. "I refuse to enter that kitchen."

"Is it the plums?" Her mum was admirably trying to muster a tone of concern and succeeding tolerably well. She put a hand on the Doctor's shoulder and stilled when he flinched back. "You know, it hasn't got any actual plums in there. It's just called that, Lord knows why." She turned back to shoot Rose a worried glance. “Is he allergic or something?”

The Doctor just frowned.

For a moment, her mum almost looked chagrined. "Is it because of me? You know I don't mean anything by it, 's just a nickname." Rose clapped her hand to her mouth, holding in a laugh—but she wasn't subtle enough and the Doctor caught her eye, glaring. But the idea that he was galled by her mum’s teasing nicknames wasn’t so unlikely, was it?

It had been difficult to get him into the flat in the first place; his insistence that he didn’t “do domestics,” whatever that meant, was unwavering, even in the face of near death—and the fact that he owed his life to Jackie Tyler’s flirtation with a bloke called Rodrigo. But Rose had finally talked him into a sit-down Christmas dinner, if not as a token of thanks, then as an apology for almost abandoning Rose to get himself killed.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she’d imagined all sorts of diatribes on the dubious ethics of factory farming and turkey consumption. The Doctor loved a good sanctimonious lecture, particularly when it came to human holidays. But what she hadn’t imagined was his complete and utter horror when faced with the most innocuous of desserts: plum pudding. It wasn’t her favorite, by any stretch, but the Doctor’s revulsion rivaled that of hers when she got splashed with alien fluids or trapped three days in a jail cell without so much as a stick of deodorant.

This reaction, she felt, couldn’t possibly be simply about a classic Christmas dessert.

So, Rose crept around where her mum and the Doctor were frozen, just on the threshold of the kitchen, and shoved the plum pudding firmly out of sight. “It’s fine,” she said, over the sound of her mum’s wittering. “We can skip the plum pudding—”

The Doctor winced. Blimey, he couldn’t even bear to hear the words.

“—this year. We’ve got plenty of biscuits. See?” And then she picked up a massive tray of sugary lumps, which really looked no more appealing than the plum pudding. Using the tray as a sort of battering ram, she forced the Doctor and her mum back toward the table, where Mickey was watching the exchange with a rather pinched expression.

But the damage was done. The Doctor was edgy, bordering on snappish, even when they’d cleared the table and settled on the floor to exchange gifts. The only time his demeanor shifted even slightly was when Jackie held out a box that was clearly for him: surprise, followed swiftly by disgust when he opened the package. In his defense, Rose snickered, her mum had picked possibly the ugliest jumper in all of London.

From the satisfied look on Jackie’s face, she knew it, too.

The Plum Pudding Incident was not spoken of for the rest of the evening—not until the Doctor and Rose had re-boarded the TARDIS. She’d nicked his new reindeer-printed jumper on sight, slipping it on over her shirt, and though it was ridiculously oversized, she was quite pleased with herself. Humming “Jingle Bells” in a meandering, casual fashion, Rose settled onto the jump seat and crossed her legs.

“So,” the Doctor began brusquely. “Where to?”

“Uh-uh. Nope.” Rose shook her head at his incredulous stare. “Not until you tell me what’s got your knickers all in a twist.”

His gaze immediately slid away, like she was wearing a perception filter and he couldn’t bring himself to look at her. With pursed lips, he flicked a knob and the TARDIS gave a little huff, like a sigh. It was apparent she wouldn’t take off until she was damn well ready to. 

Rose silently sent her a word of gratitude.

“What are you on about?”

The Doctor wasn’t a terribly good actor, but he could do nonchalance with reasonable accuracy, and he fixed Rose with his blankest, most disinterested look.

“You know what I mean,” she prodded. “Your… averse reaction to a certain Christmas dessert?”

He cleared his throat and depressed another button—which, from Rose’s perspective on the jump seat, made no change whatsoever. “No idea what you’re talking about,” he lied. Badly.

She crossed her arms. Sighed. “The plum pudding?”

And there it was again! A shiver that traveled down his spine. A visceral look of either disgust or fear, though she couldn’t work out which was more likely.

“Ah,” he said, tone flat. “That.”

“Yes. That.”

She watched as he struggled with himself for a moment, the choice of what to tell her—and what not to tell her—plainly weighing heavy on him. Eventually, he heaved a sigh and abandoned the console, coming to sit next to her on the jump seat. After another long, fraught pause, he sighed again—more expansively, his lungs surely going hollow with the force of his breath—and his head dropped forward, eyes on the floor.

“It’s not much of a story,” he said, voice low. “Just that I once found a woman—a cook, in an old Edwardian manor; solid creature, hale and healthy—dead, stuffed with her own plum pudding.”

He stopped. And he didn’t look at her. And he didn’t say anything else.

But that’s absurd, Rose thought, blinking at the Doctor’s bowed head. It was so absurd that it was very nearly comical. Stuffed with her own plum pudding? As in, she’d overeaten herself—to death? Who would do such a thing?

“Huh,” she said, rather tonelessly. “That sounds… unpleasant.”

“It was,” he agreed, hands lifting to rub over his face. “It made this horrible, sticky noise when I tried to open her mouth—to work out what was inside that had choked her. She was full of the stuff. I imagine it went all the way into her lungs.” Oh. Wincing, Rose tried not to imagine the picture he described, but she couldn’t help it; it was so grotesque. “And she had threepenny coins on her eyes—the mark of death. She’d been murdered.”

“Oh, Doctor, that’s awful.”

But he just shrugged, his shoulders slack and heavy. “Lots of people died that night. Over and over. It was—” but he couldn’t seem to find the words, and so he stopped. Started again. “But I suppose the worst part is remembering why I was there. I traveled with a friend, back then. Charley. You remind me of her sometimes.” 

Rose almost frowned. She’d long suspected that there were others, but for some reason, this comparison stung. She couldn’t say why. Maybe it was the hope that there was something unique—something more between them than friendship. Or, if not more, something—else. Whoever Charley was, she had no interest in reminding him of her.

She tried very hard not to give any sort of reaction.

But then the Doctor glanced up at her with a faint grin. “Mostly when you’re telling me what’s what. She could be an unholy terror sometimes. I think you would’ve liked her.” The contented expression slowly dissipated, fading into wistfulness, and Rose felt the change in the center of her chest. Pain was creeping in around the edges of his mouth, shaping it into a sad, bitter line.

Whoever Charley had been, Rose mused, the Doctor had lost her. And, strange as it was, plum pudding reminded him of that loss. The flare of irritation faded as fast as it had come.

She reached over and threaded her hand into his, pulling his fingers down to her lap. “I’d love to hear about her.” It was only mostly the truth. But helping him process this emotional pain seemed infinitely more important than her petty jealousy.

The Doctor shook his head. “Maybe someday. But not now. I don’t like to think of her—or,” he grimaced, “plum pudding. Brings old memories up that are better off buried.” When his fingers squeezed hers, she felt the mingled apology and gratitude there. 

Honesty did not come easily to the Time Lord—he was always so busy trying to protect people from the truth. But she didn’t need protecting, and she wanted him to know it.

“Well, there’s always me—if you want to talk,” Rose said, staring at their joined hands. She chewed her bottom lip for a moment. “If you talk about things, I think… sometimes they have less power over us. They don’t seem so awful.” Not everything could be run away from, and she’d been learning that more each day with the Doctor.

You couldn’t always outrun your feelings.

“In the meantime,” she added, taking a deep breath and flexing her fingers around his. “I’ll try to keep my mum from making any more upsetting pudding.” It wasn’t much of a sacrifice; she’d never liked plum pudding much anyway. And the thought of it stuffed down a woman’s throat had turned her off it for good. “Or, honestly, any pudding. She’s not much of a baker, is she?”

Cracking a smile, the Doctor shook his head. “No. She is… many things, but—not that.”

“Oi,” she teased, “watch your mouth. Only I can insult my mum.”

“Stop forcing me to eat her cooking, then.” But he looked amused more than anything, his usual vigor and bite coming back. She felt his hand twitch and released it. He wasn’t much for sitting still, and she could feel him getting impatient. To move, to go. It was his way, always. He leapt off the jump seat and made for the time rotor, a familiar gleam back in his eye. “So, where do you wanna go?”

You couldn’t always outrun your feelings, Rose thought. But sometimes, you had to try. If only to keep up.

She pretended to think for a full five seconds before saying, “I think I fancy a real meal, don’t you? Maybe… chips?” She grinned, tongue touching her teeth, when the Doctor gave a dramatic roll of his eyes.

But, of course, his answer was, “Yes.” The TARDIS roared to life, pointing them in the direction of good food. And great adventure.

[recentanimenews]

How Eizouken Embodies the Messy Thrill of Storytelling! (Part Two)

Hello all, and welcome back to Why It Works. Last week, we began an exploration of how Eizouken both thoughtfully illustrates and personally embodies the wily, disorderly nature of the storytelling process. Asakusa’s love of mechanical design, Mizusaki’s reverence for beautiful character acting, and the ambition to make anime that unites them - Eizouken is incredibly good at capturing the mindset of a young and passionate artist, and exploring how stories and animation are constructed from the ground up.

  But while passion and creative inspiration are important, creating anime isn’t a carefree or easy process—it requires scrupulous scheduling, careful management of available resources, and the ability to secure funding for your project in the first place. It’s thus appropriate that Asakusa’s design abilities and Mizusaki’s animation talents are supplemented by a third, equally crucial power: Kanamori’s production and project management.

Eizouken’s fourth episode stands as a celebration of Kanamori’s talents, as she shepherds her hopelessly ambitious and creatively greedy friends towards a version of their dream they can actually finish. They can’t just fill every scene with the kind of beautiful, expressive animation Mizusaki is seeking; they’d run out of time after animating thirty seconds of film, and have nothing to show their potential funders. They can’t just stick every idea Asakusa comes up with in the finished production; they need to make a clean and concise narrative, a pitch that sticks in audience’s minds. Thus Kanamori, with her pragmatic focus on what is affordable, marketable, and manageable within their time constraints, is an absolutely essential member of the team.

  Kanamori doesn’t act the way she does to be a buzzkill (well, at least when she’s yelling at them for production-related reasons). The difficulty of funding any production is a crucial component of an artform as labor-intensive as animation, and the industry is rife with productions that eventually collapse under the cumulative consequences of improper scheduling, or overreaching creative ambition. What shows get the most fluid animation and ambitious art design is never a product of what production team has the “best” initial concept - it’s a reflection of funding, of scheduling, of organization, and of team leaders’ abilities to network and convince the best animators in the business to assist them.

It is in this field where compromise with your artistic vision is inevitable. You can always explain away any in-universe concept, but if your team doesn’t have the animators necessary to bring a spaceship to life, then you’re probably not going to space. And if you listen to creator commentary, artists will often comment on what was made possible or impossible either for budgetary reasons, or because of changes in technology. Eizouken itself attests to that fact; you might think its shifting perspective shots and fluidity of movement are just a result of hard work or talented artists, but it’s actually the studio Science Saru’s embracing of Flash animation techniques that have expanded director Masaaki Yuasa’s visual toolkit. And as episode four consistently demonstrates, while compromise is inevitable, there are all sorts of ways to craftily reduce your workload without compromising your full vision.

Eizouken doesn’t just illustrate these fundamentals of storytelling and animation through its actual character discussions; the show itself embodies its passion for animation, and for the unexpected details that bring fiction to life. The show’s first episode offers a neat encapsulation of this process, starting with Asakusa’s breathless explanation of how her own first favorite show brought a ship’s takeoff to life. As Asakusa tells us, it can be easy for a craft lifting off to feel weightless, like it’s a paper doll - because of this, the formative works that inspired her create a sense of tension through the struggle of the characters pushing the craft, implying the great weight that they are sending into the sky.

Later on, Asakusa and her friends actually recreate that very magic, as Asakusa’s own dragonfly craft is lifted up through the dedicated pushing of her two companions. Eizouken’s recreation of Future Boy Conan’s takeoff isn’t just a loving homage; it’s a living testament to the complexity of animation and storytelling, and how our perception of narrative reality or ability to be carried away by a narrative are often contained in the most unexpected details of production. Stories tap into our emotional impressions of reality, rather than the actual truth of it—you might not actually be able to "see" wind in real life, but conveying its sensory weight is crucial in order to feel it in animation.

Eizouken’s inherent celebration of the fundamentals of animation and storytelling is articulated even through its lightest incidental moments. Asakusa, Kanamori, and Mizusaki’s personalities aren’t just clear in their dialogue—their enthusiastic body language and expressive faces all bring their personalities to life, emphasizing how endearing character acting can be as impactful and character-building as any sympathetic backstory. Asakusa’s dazzlement at the beauty of the world isn’t just a feeling she personally experiences; the beauty and architectural intricacy of the world around her makes her feelings totally understandable, as if we’re always seeing the fanciful realities she imagines.

Even the show’s contrast of different styles and stages of animation, as roughly sketched backgrounds and storyboards meet splashes of paint and CG ornamentation, emphasize the messy thrill of the creative process, the piecemeal nature of narrative design, and the unheralded significance of even the smallest elements of a production. The importance of “feeling” the weight of a flying machine, the fact that wind must have visual form to give us a sense of motion, the evocative contrast between human and mechanical movement - all these tiny fragments of intention add up to something far greater, the shambling, collectively constructed, and beautifully executed productions we all know and love.

  All in all, Eizouken is an unbelievably rich and rewarding show. It celebrates all the nitty-gritty details of storytelling and animation, and acknowledges the messy compromises inherent in creating fiction, shedding light on the true difficulty and discovery of the creative process. Yet at the same time, it demonstrates through its own execution the incredible heights that animation can reach, and the dazzling beauty of all those elements working in concert. It’s a brilliant show, but never an unapproachable one—it urges you to come along and share in this journey, reveling in the complexity and magic of art and fiction. Eizouken is an incredibly generous production, and we are lucky to have it.

That’s all from me, but please feel free to share your own thoughts in the comments. What do you all most enjoy about Keep Your Hands Off Eizouken?

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Nick Creamer has been writing about cartoons for too many years now, and is always ready to cry about Madoka. You can find more of his work at his blog Wrong Every Time, or follow him on Twitter.

Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!

      By: news+feed@crunchyroll.com

[jgys-hat]

I am rewatching The Untamed, having now read MDZS, and. I am So Normal about Jin Guangyao

[assorted-things]

Maybe the fact that I would think of this at all says I've spent too much time on Tumblr, but can you imagine what the Age Gap Relationship Online Discourse™ would be like in the Mass Effect universe

[davidhop]

#Funghi today -- with a splash of very old #lichen at the end Not quite @wandering_wildcrafter but the best we've got in this Sussex this week! (at West Wittering , West Sussex) https://www.instagram.com/p/B3ISWfPBoP5/?igshid=1f0gg0rlft5jh

[a-kitten-with-claws-archived]

Get To Know the Muse: Kit Prince

Favorite things.

season: Winter. Especially at her home in Yorkshire because even though there’s the potential of being snowed in, it’s very pretty. pie: Cherry or apple  fruit: Cherries ice cream flavor: Pistachio breakfast food: A proper ‘full English’, if she has the time for it. If not, a bagel with cream cheese and raspberry jam alcoholic drink: Champagne  soda flavor: Tonic water scent: Chanel No.5 flowers: White roses animal: Dogs - specifically her two dogs which are an Old English Sheepdog and a Yorkshire Terrier movie: All about Eve tv show: Kit relaxes by watching anything considered ‘trash tv’ - Jeremy Kyle, Jerry Springer (back in the day) book: Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen fairy tale: Snow White - gotta show the love to ladies with pale skin and dark hair right? genre of music: Cool Jazz - as sung by Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong et al genre of movies: 1950′s Hollywood romantic dramas  genre of books:  Jane Austen, The Bronte sisters

Pick one.

hot or cold juice or soda tv or movie movie or book late night talk shows or reality tv twitter or instagram trees or flowers philosophy or psychology ocean or lake water park or amusement park cats or dogs freshwater or sparkling water sugar or honey cookies or candy bath or shower morning or night running or walking piercings or tattoos frozen yogurt or ice cream vanilla or chocolate caramel or butterscotch art or music t-shirt or button down text or call ghosts or aliens

Have they ever.

ridden a motorcycle: Only as a passenger to someone else stolen something: Yes, as a child eaten an entire pizza by themselves: Yes made a prank call: No broken a bone: Yes fallen asleep during a concert or movie: No walked out of a movie because it was so bad: Yes been on the phone with someone for longer than 2 hours: Yes - its a regular occurrence when she’s working away and needs to spend whatever time she can with her kids dined & dashed: No held a gun: No ding dong ditched: Yes gone skinny dipping: Yes cried during a movie: Yes - many, many times smuggled food into a movie: No, she’s quite happy to pay concessionary price even though they are extortionate at times lied to get a job: No practiced lines in front of a mirror: No. But she used to practice kissing on one when a teenager tried to see how many marshmallows they can stuff in their mouth at once: No been kicked out of somewhere: Yes been on a blind date: Yes. ghosted someone: No bragged about something they haven’t done: No said i love you without meaning it: Yes gotten in a fight: Yes fallen asleep on a bus: No

Miscellaneous.

how do they take their tea or coffee: Tea - strong, half a spoon of sugar and the barest splash of milk what is their ideal date: Dinner at a great restaurant with witty and interesting conversation, then the theatre, ballet or opera, finishing with slow dancing to soft music what are some of their guilty pleasures:   Shopping for shoes (bordering on an addiction tbh!), spa treatments, cigarettes, sex toys (except she refuses to feel guilty about that last one) longest they’ve stayed up for: 48 hours when Poppy was born, because Kit could not stop looking at her greatest talent: Empathy and understanding, the ability to really listen to someone, notice what they say as well as what they don’t and try her hardest to help them with whatever need  strange habits: Biting her bottom lip when nervous, unsure of herself or excited/aroused can they do a handstand: Yes - yoga helped very much with this can they cook: Very well - yet she cannot bake for shit do they have allergies: Allergic to blueberries do they believe in love in first sight: No - she did once, then someone killed it have any special talents: *waggles eyebrows suggestively*

Tagged by: @dxspereaux (thank you gorgeous x)

Tagging: @vizlla, @warrioroflondonbelow, @murdersanctum, @destructiveempathy, @whenthe-inkwell-runsdry, @thepropertyofalady, @daggermechanic, @ericbrandonrp and anyone else that wants to xxxxx

[amanupom-blog]

Something About Me

This space is all about music. I am Tahmid Aman, just a student of journalism. So why this blog have something interesting things about music like before story of a song or after the song. There are too  many sad songs we listen every time but we never think about how a witter wrote it. 

 Maybe there are many peoples reading this post along with us. In just a few minutes, there will only be the two of us with a mysteries songs. If you are in depression mostly you like to listens your favorite songs. There are two songs which manipulates your mind to commit suicide. You think it's a joke? Listen it first. 

  GLOOMY SUNDAY                                       wings of suicide

The song was released in English in 1936 with revised lyrics by REZSO SERESS. This version clearly refers to suicide:

Gloomy is Sunday, with shadows I spend it all My heart and I have decided to end it all Soon there’ll be candles and prayers that are sad I know... Let them not weep let them know that I’m glad to go  

In 1933, there was a struggling songwriter REZSO SERESS

 Some accounts have him living in Paris, others Budapest. The story goes that after his girlfriend left him, he was so depressed that he wrote the melody that became “Gloomy Sunday.” A minor-key ribbon of blue smoke, the tune was given an equally melancholy lyric - in Hungarian - by Seress’s friend, the poet Laszlo Javor.

Some reports claim it was Javor’s girlfriend who left him, inspiring the song as a poem first. Others say that Seress wrote his own lyric, about war and apocalypse, then Javor later changed it to a heartbreak ballad.

Whatever the case, “Szomorú Vasárnap,” as it was titled, didn’t make much of a splash at first. But two years later, a recorded version by Pál Kálmar was connected to a rash of suicides in Hungary. The song was then allegedly banned.

Hungarian and trawling through Budapest newspapers from the 1930s, it is impossible to verify any of this (Hungary does historically have one of the higher suicide rates in the world - approximately 46 out of every 100,000 people take their own lives there every year).

Up to seventeen suicides were purportedly linked in some way to the song “Gloomy Sunday” in Hungary before the song was (allegedly) banned. These “links” included people who reportedly killed themselves after listening to the song (either from a recording or performed by a band), or who were said to have been found dead with references to “Gloomy Sunday” (and/or its lyrics) in their suicide notes, with “Gloomy Sunday” sheet music in their hands, or with “Gloomy Sunday” playing on gramophones.

Here’s the most popular version of all time, recorded by jazz legend Billie Holiday in 1941 

“Gloomy Sunday” soon became known as the “Hungarian Suicide Song,” and in its original incarnation was said to have caused dozens of people around the world to take their own lives after hearing it broadcast on the radio for the first time.

Bizarrely, Rezső Seress himself committed suicide as well, although this tragedy occurred in January of 1969 — over three decades after the song was written. (The composer was known by friends and associates to have battled intense depression throughout his life.) 

Now, if you really want to take a chance on listening to the original version, I found a copy of the first known recording, taken from Rezső Seress’s original sheet music. Here’s the complete song:

 If you don’t comprehend Hungarian, you’ll probably be safe… but I won’t be held responsible for what may happen to you after listening.

references : 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gloomy_Sunday

http://mentalfloss.com/article/28525/songs-killer-strange-tale-gloomy-sunday

[vacationsoup]

New Post has been published on https://vacationsoup.com/27-things-to-do-sussex/

27 Super Things to Do in Splendid Sussex

From the rolling countryside and medieval villages in the East to the serene hills, valleys and remarkable Roman ruins in the West, Sussex is a rural county abundant in charm. Plus a gloriously rugged and beautiful coastline, which is as iconic as they come.

Characterised by striking chalk cliffs and dramatized by the most incredible sunsets, the coastal stretch alone is enough to draw you to this quaint corner of the UK. The treasure of Southeast England and home to some of the prettiest towns and villages in the country, Sussex is well worth a visit.

And with beautiful holiday manors and beach homes available for group hire all year round, it’s the ideal destination for a weekend or week away. Here are some of the things you can do in splendid Sussex!

1. Beachy Head & The Seven Sisters

A visit to Sussex County is not complete without a trip to Beachy Head and The Seven Sisters. This series of chalk cliff drops is the most iconic attraction of the area and provides the most spectacular views of the English Channel. This long stretch of cliffs is really a sight to behold, with lush grasslands and on a warm day, the ocean turns a stunning turquoise blue.

2. Bognor Regis Pier Beach

One of the most famous beaches in Sussex and a great place to come in groups or with your family because there’s so much to do. The beachfront features an amusement arcade, shops and cafes, bars and nightclubs, and awesome fish and chips. Enjoy great views along The Esplanade and soak up the sea air.

3. Wakehurst Botanic Garden

Wakehurst is a spectacular botanic garden in the West Sussex area, owned and managed by the world-renowned Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew. The site is spread across more than 450 acres, boasting landscaped gardens, woodland, a beautiful nature reserve as well as the impressive Elizabethan mansion set on the estate.

4. Harbour Park

The ultimate kids’ day out! If you’re holidaying with the little ones, don’t miss Harbour Park by Littlehampton Beach. It has everything kids could dream of, including fairground rides, water rides and water chutes, a family arcade, ice cream and sweet treats, and plenty of places to grab a bite for the whole family.

5. Bodiam Castle

One of Britain’s most beautiful castles and a great day out for all ages. Key features of the castle include its spiral staircases and battlements, plus portcullis and murder holes. Climb the towers and take footsteps where kings, queens and knights use to roam. The kids will love Bodiam Castle and there’s also a superb tearoom serving delicious cakes and snacks.

6. Weald and Downland Open Air Museum

The Weald and Downland Living Museum is a fantastic opportunity to experience life in the past. Taking you on a journey of a 950 year period, these rescued buildings will make history come alive. Informative and fun at the same time, with lots to do such as cooking in the Tudor Kitchen or watching demonstrations from the Victorian Smithy.

7. Arundel Castle

This ancient castle and stately home is one of the longest inhabited country homes in the UK and it really is one of the most magnificent estates to explore. The impressive ancient structure is almost ethereal in its beauty, and lives to be a wonderfully restored and remodelled fortress like something out of a medieval fairy tale. Explore the grounds, walk through the many gardens flourishing in colourful flowers and unique plants, take a tour of the castle rooms, and refuel at the on-site restaurant.

8. Borde Hill Garden

A heritage garden filled with rare shrubs and champion trees. Borde Hill is a gardener’s dream and is a great place for enjoying a light stroll and some fresh air for all ages. The display of plants has accumulated over time by great plant collectors and have been tended with passion for over four generations. The perfect spot for a woodland walk or a picnic by the lakes, so don’t forget to pack some sandwiches.

9. The Brighton Pier & Beach

There’s so much to see and do in the county’s biggest city, Brighton. And Brighton Pier is a must for anyone coming here for the first time. Spend the day shopping, playing in the arcades, riding the fairground rides, and strolling along the sea front. There’s so much street food here too, including fish and chips (the seaside classic), hot dogs, ice cream, frozen yoghurt, pizza, shellfish, Brighton rock and much more.

10. Drusillas Park

Take the kids to Drusillas Park to meet all the animals! There’s also a Hello Kitty Secret Garden, a huge outdoor play area, and a Get Wet Splash Pad. So children will be entertained for hours on end. Plus with 4 different cafes / buffets available, the whole family will be fed and watered.

11. A Day Out in Hastings

Travel back in time to 1066 and discover the gorgeous coastal town where the famous Battle of Hastings took place. Visit the Battle Abbey, explore Hastings Castle, and book a tour of St. Clements Caves (the town’s historical underground tunnels)

12. The Village of Amberley

This pretty village and civil parish is one of the must-see chocolate box villages of the region. Renowned for its beauty, old fashioned cottages and timeless charm. Walk around the village and make sure you drop in to the village tea rooms for a cream tea.

13. Bedgebury National Pinetum and Forest

The Bedgebury National Pinetum is open to the public all year round, and it is recognised as the famous home of the National Conifer Collection and a central hub for global conifer conservation. The National Conifer Collection is the most complete collection of conifers in one site anywhere in the world, featuring over 12,000 trees in total. Within this huge tree collection, there are rare and endangered species as well as many historically important specimens. Out in the forest, guests can enjoy walking around, cycling and mountain-biking. And other attractions include an adventure play area, nature walks and talks, and a cafe with panoramic views across the Pinetum.

14. Aldingbourne Country Centre

Aldingbourne Country Centre is open all year round and there’s so much to do. So if you’re travelling in a mixed group, this is a great place to bring the rabble. Take a relaxing woodland walk to soak up some fresh country air, discover the on-site gardens, meet the animals on the open farm, see the birds of prey at Hawking About, play mini golf, or enjoy a pedal tractor ride!

15. Lewes Castle

Lewes Castle is such a fantastic attraction for kids and adults alike. It’s a Norman castle dating back more than 1000 years and it has a series of spiral staircases that lead to its high tower. It’s worth the climb if your legs can take it because the views from the top are just breath-taking. The Barbican House is just next door and features a museum, a mini cinema and much more.

16. Nutbourne Winery & Vineyards

Wine connoisseurs will love visiting Nutbourne Winery & Vineyards, open from May to October every year. Nutbourne is a family-run boutique wine producer and they’re known for their award-winning still and sparkling wines. It’s all a part of the new English wine renaissance, and all wines are made from grapes grown on the estate. Open Tuesday to Friday (2pm-5pm) and Saturdays (11am-5pm).

17. Blackberry Farm

Farm days are so much fun for kids and Blackberry Farm promises excitement for all ages. Home to more than 180 different animals, there’s plenty of chances for meeting, feeding and getting up close to farm creatures. Kids can even enjoy a tractor ride, a pony ride or just go wild on the outdoor play areas whilst parents can enjoy tea, coffee, cakes and snacks in the café.

18. West Wittering Beach

If you’re looking for the most beautiful beach along the south coast, West Wittering is worth a look in. It’s particularly popular with windsurfers, but the low tide also makes it a great location for sea paddling and building sand castles. There’s also a grassy area which is perfect for picnics and wildlife spotting.

19. Devil’s Dyke Circular Walk

The view from the top of Devil’s Dyke has been described as “the grandest in the world” by Suffolk born painter John Constable. So if you’re searching for a picturesque spot to spread your picnic blanket, this walk is ideal. It’s also a great place to watch the sunset if you’re here with your other half.

20. Brighton Museum & Art Gallery

Located in the Royal Pavilion garden, the Brighton Museum & Art Gallery is the city’s cultural beacon and attracts visitors from all over the country every year. The museum’s collections tell the story of the city and history of the world, and there are new exhibitions to check out every season, with everything from fine art and photography to 20th Century design.

21. Afternoon Tea at West Dean Gardens

Afternoon tea is a great way treat yourself for a special occasion, especially if have a spectacular setting to enjoy your champagne and nibbles in. West Dean Gardens is one of the greatest restored gardens in England and the Garden Restaurant is the perfect place for enjoying your favourite refreshments in style. Home to a 300 ft. Edwardian pergola, an award-winning Sunken Garden, stunning Victorian glasshouses, plus a 50-acre arboretum.

22. Booth Museum of Natural History

The Booth Museum is another museum that is a must-see when visiting Brighton. Featuring collections of birds, butterflies, fossils, and bones to tell the story of living creatures through time. These artefacts were originally founded as a Victorian collector’s private museum, and now they are open to the public and entry is free of charge.

23. Amberley Museum & Heritage Centre

If you visit the beautiful village of Amberley, don’t miss the Amberley Museum & Heritage Centre. Set on a 36 acre site in South Downs National Park, this museum is dedicated to local industrial heritage. There’s much to see, including the electricity exhibition halls, the working printshop, stationary engines, lime kilns, the narrow gauge railway and historic bus.

24. Anne of Cleves House

As the fourth wife of King Henry VIII, Anne of Cleves is a significant figure in British and Tudor history. And this house is a fine example of her legacy which lives on as part of the East Sussex in Lewes. Formed as part of Anne’s annulment settlement from the king in 1540, this house is vision of beautiful historical architecture. The earliest parts of the building date back from the 1400s with further additions later in the 17th Century. Take a walk back in time as you wander through the kitchen, the bedroom and parlour, as well as the garden. The café is located in the tea garden, so you can enjoy refreshments in the spectacular Tudor setting.

25. Arundel Wetland Centre

From the annual Giant Duck Hunt at Easter and the LEGO Brick Animals Trail in May/June to free boat rides and 8 wildlife hides, the Arundel Wetland Centre has fun things to see and do pretty much all year round. The Wetlands Discovery Boat Safari can even accommodate wheelchairs, making it one of the most accessible attractions in the area.

26. Herstmonceux Castle, Gardens & Grounds

The magnificent 15th Century moated Herstmonceux Castle is truly impressive, set within 300 acres of carefully managed woodland and stunning formal gardens. This beautiful fort is one of the best examples of a mighty medieval stronghold, whilst also embodying the romance of renaissance Europe. Enjoy the views as you take the Chestnut Tree Walk, order tea and cake at the Chestnuts Tea Room and Visitors Centre, or take a tour of the gardens and woodlands.

27. Blue Reef Aquarium

A great day out for the whole family – the Blue Reef Aquarium is home to some truly spectacular marine life species that are just fascinating to watch. Take a tour through the underwater tunnel and be completely mesmerised by the sea turtles, seahorses, native sharks, giant octopus, and hundreds of colourful fish. There are also daily talks and feeds, making the experience all the more interactive and memorable.

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