#and is a treat feind

[gaspriceboner]

Everyone shhhhhh listen……

Im admiral posting…

Isn’t she the babyest ever

[jayjamjary]

Sometimes I just like to say PHOTON BLAST when like idk the sun comes up or I turn on a light. It's very fun I highly recommend it.

[here-be-tangents]

Rhaegar's Friend, Elia's Foe

I don't usually give much authority to information outside of the core five books (and I include SSM in that, unfortunately, 'cause citations without peer-review aren't much use). I've plenty of time for theories and headcanons, but given how changeable Martin is I treat everything in TWoIaF, F&B, and so on as "Schrödinger Canon".

However, I will completely accept the words of House Connington that appeared on a single German cover of A Dance With Dragons! Because, to me, they seem so perfect.

Ein Grimmiger Feind, Ein Treuer Freund.

You can go a few ways with it, but as a lover of alliteration, my take is "A Fearsome Foe, A Faithful Friend", because...

They give House Connington the rare honour of having supportive, co-operative words, not really found outside of Stokeworth's "Proud To Be Faithful".

They suit Ronnet, a man defined by both his volatile anger and his unquestioning (but frequently questioned) loyalty.

They also imply some mercuriality, with a change from friend to foe necessitating a switch from one extreme to the other. That suits Ronnet, I feel, whose face-value assessment of Brienne and impulsive choice to be cruel to his almost-betrothed indicates someone without much care for middle ground. And I'd say that's demonstrated further by his interaction with Jaime, committing to his insults even after getting a golden backhand.

But most importantly, I feel they're appropriate for Jon. The words suit a man who would become Hand for the Mad King because of his love for Rhaegar, a man who would raise a dead man's son out of love for the father, and a man who would - out of that same love - so cruelly criticise that dead man's dead wife for being "weak" and "unworthy" of him. Seriously, Jon, what the fuck?

[tfblovesmusic]

Maligayang Pask-OH SHIP! Mixtape 1, Listening Guide 2

Section 7: 24 December 1842

The section whisks the listener back to the days of Charles Dickens’s seasonal novella, A Christmas Carol, with Charles Ward’s organ transcription of the English Country dance, Hole in the Wall. Organist William Neil and the Washington Symphonic Brass further adds highlights to the old-timey scene with their arrangement of the tenor aria from Bach’s Christmas Oratorio, “Nun mögt ihr stolzen Feinde schrecken.”

The listener then finds oneself in a snow-cloaked Central London. The Purcell Quartet, Dame Emma Kirkby, Michael Chance, Charles Daniels, and Peter Harvey – in Victorian Era winter finery – greet the listener in their rendition of Buxtehude's Das neugeborne Kindelein, das herzeliebe Jesulein, BuxWV 13. They all gather inside a house, where Harry Von Tiltzer and the The Parlour Orchestra welcome them with “Down at the Old Bull and Bush.”

Jose Mari Chan also appears in an 1840s Philippines barong, with Liza Chan and Jaymie Magtoto dressed in their mini Maria Clara dresses, singing “Christmas Children.” The Accademia Bizantinia plays a rousing rendition of the sinfonia from Cantata BWV 142 as hosts pass drinks and treats. Magtoto muses to the guests and the listener about “This Beautiful Day.”

Mr. Fezziwig and the cast of A Christmas Carol livens up the party, which turns out to be his "Annual Christmas Ball.”

The Canadian Brass, also in their mid-19th century getups, arrives and plays “Good King Wenceslas.” The listener and the attendees “Sing a Christmas Carol.” The listener leaves the festive, historical party with Charles Ward’s organ transcription of the English Country dance, Greensleeves & Epping Lace.

Section 8: Those Fenny Silver Bells

As the listener leaves 1842 London, one turns in the direction the the chiming “Silver Bells,” of which Stevie Wonder aptly sings about. Whitney Houston also hears the bells, asking one, “Do You Hear What I Hear?” The Black Dyke Mills Band echo the chimes in a Cornet Carillon. Lore Lixenberg and Chance also turn in the direction of the chimes, noticing them in Anthony Gilbert’s Those Fenny Bells.

The bells ring even louder, and David Foster duets with them with his epic arrangement of the Ukrainian Bell Carol. Mannheim Steamroller rocks with the bells in their instrumental cover of “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen.” The chiming enchants Leo Valdez so much, that he breaks out into “Kampana ng Simbahan.” Liza Minnelli takes it upon herself to tell a story that provides a concluding moral: “Ring Them Bells.”

Section 9: A New Year’s Breakup

The listener finds oneself inside a Romanesque Revival church built in the 19th century. Inside, Catherine Bott, Chance, and Andrew King heighten the anxiety of the impending year at the start of the section with the terzetto – “Ach! Wann wird die Zeit erscheinen?” – from Bach’s Christmas Oratorio.

The listener can imagine Dan Fogelberg – or generally a lover who just broke up over the holidays – wander from the church in which Bott, Chance, and King sang their terzetto to a place outside a pub, in which Jaime MacDougall drunkenly commences the new year with Haydn’s arrangement of “Auld Lang Syne” with the Haydn Trio Eisenstadt. Ella Fitzgerald walks out of the pub, asking him, “What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve?”

Fogelberg walks through the blinding snow and biting gusts, as the Cambridge Singers incant, “Blow, Blow Thou Winter Wind.” He finally sings a ballad of his own – the “Same Old Lang Syne” – as the snow transitions to rain. Inside another nearby pub, Scott Bradlee’s Postmodern Jukebox sings his tale in their cover of “Last Christmas.” Outside, Jose Mari Chan comforts Fogelberg, singing to him, “May the Good Lord Bless and Keep You.”

Then, a nearby car skids to an abrupt stop. The listener, Bott, Chance, King, Fogelberg, and Chan rush over to help. The driver turns out to be Carrie Underwood, who fervently prays, “Jesus, Take the Wheel” as they help her with the car and the baby, sound asleep in the car seat.

Section 10: Maui, the Christmas Island

With most people traveling somewhere for Christmas, Anne Murray tells the tale of the “Snowbird” as the listener awaits the flight to Hawaii. The listener’s plane departs, with Aled Jones, Russell Watson, and The Snowman in flight besides them as the former two sing “Walking in the Air.” Once the plane lands, Sebastian and Ariel – in her The Little Mermaid green tail and purple bikini top – greet the listener on a rock off Maui, the “Christmas Island.”  

With Hawaii’s climate too warm for winter garb and biting snow and ice, Bing Crosby and The Andrews Singers wish the listener “Mele Kalikimaka” as they distribute floral leis. On Mākena Beach, “Little St. Nick” – in festive swimming shorts – surfs the waves as The Beach Boys croon.

The first playlist winds down as the listener sips a Yuletide tropical drink. Accompanied by Joshua Rifkin and The Bach Players, Jane Bryden, Drew Minter, Jeffrey Thomas, and Jan Opalach – in swimwear – serenade beachgoers in the final movement of Herz und Mund und Tat und Leben, BWV 147, “Jesus bleibet meine Freude,” concluding Part 1 of the mixtape.

Best listened with Spotify Premium.

[derailedfiction]

The Most Wanted | Baron Zemo | The Falcon and the Winter Soldier

Part 2 Pairings: Helmut Zemo x Fem!Reader | Sam Wilson & Fem!Reader |  James Barnes & Fem!Reader Word count: 6017 (sorry) Warnigns: swearing, a bit of kissing, shooting  Summary: As Reader’s presence is exsposed the only way to get to Zemo is to cooperate with Sam and Bucky.

A/N: Reader is German-speaking which means that ¾ of what she says is in that language. If she speaks with Zemo, one to one, I switched to English (pls pretend it’s still German xD).  Also next time I’ll put translations next to German version. It will be easier to read probably.

You grunted as you were seated on a chair, and quickly restrained with a rope around your arms and hands. You scanned the room looking for Zemo but he was nowhere to be found. As your search did not bring you any satisfactory answers, you set your eyes on the other man, expectantly.

“Was kann ich für sie tun?” you asked calmly with a nonchalant smile.

“What?” Sam looked puzzled at James, and back at you. “What does it mean?”

“She asked what she can do for you, Sam,” Zemo answered leaving the bathroom with a bottle of cologne and a towel in his hands.

“Well first of all she can tell what the hell is she doing here,” you observed the dark-skinned man with much amusement. He seemed to be quite annoyed with the situation.

“Warum ist er so verärgert?” you asked Zemo, still carefully observing Sam.

“What?” he asked again, clearly agitated that he did not understand what you were saying.

“She wants to know why you are so annoyed,” Zemo replied, spreading some cologne on his hands and then on his neck with a gentle pat.

“Can’t she speak like normal language?” Sam sat down on the couch with a helpless expression. 

“Wha–at?” you mocked Sam with a silent laugh. You saw a corner of the Baron’s lip went up for a moment. 

“I don’t really understand why the whole world should speak English, Sam. Oh, mein Gott, Y/N, sprichst du noch kein Englisch?” Zemo looked at you with a question in his eyes. A similar question was in Sam’s eyes as he desperately wanted to know what was happening.

“Nein, aber ich verstehe was er hat gesagt,” you shifted on the chair you were restrained to.

“She will not speak English, even though she understands you,” Baron translated.

“What do you want?” you felt observant gaze received from James.

“Ihn,” you pointed at Zemo with wide grin. “Ich wollte euch beide zuerst erschießen und ihn dann nehmen. 

“She wants me and wanted to kill off the two of you before,” Baron replied emotionlessly.

“That would add up, she had a sniper rife literally next doors,” James said, “Who beat you up like this?” he asked after a moment, pointing at your bruised lip and a black eye.

“Die Wakandanerin. Sie dachte, ich würde sie zu Zemo fuhren. Aber dann hat sie mit dir gesprochen,” you smiled lightly towards James as you thought, it was kind of him to ask about it.

“The Wakandian did it to her as she thought she would lead her to me. Then, the Wakandian has spoken to you, James. It’s quite surprising how fast they sent somebody to fetch me.”

“Is it really?” James looked at him with disbelief. “I bargained us more time to deal with things, so no need to thank me.”

“It was sweet of you to defend me at least,” Zemo turned from the window and lightly nodded towards James, much to his dismay.

“You killed T’Chaka and now Nagel” Sam echoed, and yet Baron shrugged that information as he would an irritating fly. “How long do you follow us?”

“Seit Madripoor. Übrigens war dein Tanzen komisch, Zemo,” you winked at the Sokovian with silent laugh. You were way too much enjoying this questioning.

“She was following us since our visit in Madripoor. Ich dachte, ich habe dich dort gesehen, Y/N,“ he put his hand on your shoulder and squeezed it lightly.

“Du war recht,” you turned your head to catch glimpse of his figure behind you. The smell of cologne he used was rather intoxicating. 

“Is it me, or you two like know each other?”

“Yes, we have worked together before and as I said, I had a feeling that I saw Y/N during the party,” he answered and went to examine kitchen shelves. “She’s one of the best bounty hunters I have known, and it’s a delight that she’s hunting for me now.”

“Man, you have some strange definition of a delight…” Sam stated, crossing his arms. “Why you hunt him now?”

You fell silent for a longer moment not really wanting to tell why.

“Meine Schwester –” you started talking.

“Her sister was kidnapped and is held by someone. She will be released only in exchange for my person,” Zemo translated simultaneously, playing with a cookie on his finger. “She doesn’t know who that is. Y/N only received a video with her sister and information about what she’s supposed to do. If she cannot fulfil the expectations, her sister is going to be killed. Es tut mir sehr leid, Y/N.”

“Hör jetzt auf, Zemo. Du kümmerst dich nur um dich selbst und zerstören Super-Soldaten. Das ist es,” you felt closely examined by him and then he did something most surprising for you.

“I don’t believe she will pose any threat to our cause. I do think that she actually can be quite an asset.”

The three of you looked surprised at Zemo. Sam and James because they both thought dealing with another shady character would be too much. And you because it would make your job so much easier, just to use distraction and snatch Zemo right from their noses. 

“Wunderbar! – No!” the three of you exclaimed at the same moment.

“Why not? I would get three watchmen, making sure I would not escape,” he continued undisturbed by your sudden vocalization. “Moreover, Y/N is excellent in hand-to-hand combat and is trained in any kind of weaponry.”

“I don’t even…” Sam started and put his hands in the air as if he surrendered to this whole situation. “I mean, it’s not bad to have additional pair of eyes on Zemo but is it worth it? She’s a criminal too.”

“Right now, we have bigger problems. Karli bombed a GRC supply depot,” James started reading the latest news on his phone. 

At that point, you stopped listening to them, as they were deliberating on the subject you were not that much familiar with. Even though Zemo offered a solution for your presence in the team, no one was willing to untie you from the chair. You sat there observing the place carefully, trying to find a perfect way to run away at some point with your prize. 

You kept your gaze on Baron for a long moment. He bustled around the kitchen as if he did it every day, without a break of several years in a German prison. Of course, it was impossible for him to forget how the Avengers were responsible for the deaths of his family and yet, it was bizarre for you that he decided to cooperate with them. As you knew him from the past, Zemo would cherish the very thought of destroying this particular group of superheroes, showing them how very human they indeed were. Still, you just witnessed how Baron threw a Turkish delight towards Sam as if he were giving him a treat for a great lead to follow. 

“Du starrst, Y/N,” he stated indifferently, handing you some tea.

“Danke,” you thanked him, even though you had no opportunity to drink it. “Ich kenne dich und bin dennoch überrascht, wie du diese Männer behandelst. Sind sie nicht deine Feinde, Zemo?” 

“Im Moment sind sie nützlich. Das ist alle,” he answered you and from the look on his face you knew that Baron Zemo had already a plan.

“What are you talking about?” Sam came closer to the two of you.

“Y/N is surprised that I cooperate with someone that I swore to destroy,”

“Well, you can count me in, Y/N,” he replied as he undid the bonds. “One wrong move and you two will be handcuffed to me and James.”

“Das hört sich nicht so schlecht an,” you rubbed your wrists sightly worn from the rough rope and drank tea from Zemo.

“I’m afraid my dear friend that she rather liked that idea,” you winked at Sam coquettishly as he rubbed his face in disbelief. 

“Was machen wir jetzt?”

“We are going to ask some questions about Donya’s funeral,” James answered your question, “We gotta move.”

Within fifteen minutes you were ready to leave the apartment, and since James and Sam did not want to take any chances leaving you alone, you were walking in pair with Zemo. 

“Ich bin überrascht, dass du nicht versucht hast, sie zwischen Städten zu verlieren,” you said to your companion as you walked.

“Nun, wie ich schon sagte, sie sind ein Mittel zum Zweck, das ist alles,” he replied. “Was hast du in den letzten Jahren gemacht?”

“Nichts Besonderes, aber ich war für 5 Jahre wegen dieser Snap weg. Jetzt bin ich hier…”

“Man, don’t you worry about what are they talking about? They could be like planning escape or something, to roll us over,” Sam said to Bucky, cautiously observing the two of you in front of him. “It’s just wrong…”

“It’s not, they’re talking about the past. She was gone after Thanos snapped,” Bucky replied quietly, trying not to give up he’s able to understand German. “She’s still quite lost after she got back.”

“Can you blame her? Or anyone in such a situation? It’s pretty fucked up…”

Bucky cracked for a moment listening to your conversation, “She just told him, she would have killed him back in Madripoor and she didn’t just because of their shared past.”

“Damn man, they have some unresolved issues under those smirks and sass.”

You turned around feeling the gazes of the two of them on your back as you were speaking with Zemo. They were walking behind you, keeping a reasonable distance, and talking about something rather lively. 

“It is shame of what became of this place,” you rose your eyebrow lightly looking around the small courtyard, which wasn’t in its best condition.

“I’ll go check upstairs. You keep eye on him,” Sam went up for the next floor and you were left alone with James, as Zemo softly humming a lullaby came closer to children.

For a moment two of you stood in silence watching how Baron was approaching children, and then you asked, “Du verstehst mich, oder?”

“A little, yes,” James answered you. If he was surprised how quickly you found out about it, he didn’t show it at all.

“Was machst du mit ihm? Wenn du er nicht mehr brauchst?” you crossed your arms following James’ stare.

“He’s going back to the prison.”

“Und die Wakanderin?” you heard long sigh from him, he did not really know what to do in this situation.

“I’m not sure. Zemo is too dangerous to let him be unsupervised, or to be intercepted by a shady character, no offence.”

“Nicht genommen,” you smiled lightly. 

“Now, what the hell is he doing?” Sam came closer to the two of you, seeing the idyllic conversation between Zemo and children.

“Wish you didn’t hear him sing – What?”

“Cute kids,” Zemo said as he passed the three of you heading to the exit.

As you left the CPR facility, you had a feeling that someone was observing you as four of you walked down the street back to the apartment. You observed each passing by person, sensing something was going on.

“Was ist los?”

“Jetzt nichts als ich denke jemand folgt uns. Der Power Broker hat Leute nach drei von Ihnen geschickt,” you replied quickly turning around your head.

“Achtung!” just as you saw the mercenary take out the gun, you pushed Zemo away and took the bullet. A sharp pain tore your arm as you landed on the ground next to Baron looking at you surprised. “Was?”

“Warte,” he took out the knife and tear for pieces your sleeve to create a tourniquet above the wound. “Versuche es zu drücken, Y/N.”

You nodded holding your arm firmly, trying to prevent any further bleeding. On the other side of the road, James was just knocking out the assassin.

“We should move. I don’t want to take any more chances with other killers,” Sam helped you stood up.

“Und der Söldner?” you asked.

“He won’t be conscious for longer time and we will probably be somewhere else. Come.”

Four of you hastily returned to the quarters, making sure no one was following you. Sam and James armed themselves with additional weapons as they wanted to be sure you were safe in there.

“We’ll go and check whether this place is safe. You two stay here, understood?” Sam told you as he went out with James.

You stood in the middle of the room trying to gather yourself to do something with the wound you have been pressing. You took few steps towards the bar and made yourself two drinks, one of which you immediately drank.

“Now, take these, it will help with the pain.” 

“Yeah, thanks,” you took the pills from Zemo and swallowed them with few sips of whiskey. “Now, if you allow, I’d like to take care of this,” you pointed at your arm wound, as you slowly went to the bathroom and closed the door behind you.

As you were finally alone without any sympathetic or wanting-to-help gazes, you sighed loudly and quite shakily. It was not your first time being shot, and honestly, you knew that having Zemo around and babysitting him for not to get killed, would mean more bullets to take. 

You sat down on with tiles of the floor, observing how blood was slowly dropping on it creating a small plash. You moved your fingers carefully, trying to determine whether some muscles or tendons were damaged. It hurt badly. Burning pain ran through your whole hand up to the arm wound.

“Fuck,” you whined quietly, and you rested your head over the edge of the bath. 

That was not the plan at all. At last, the pills you got were starting to work as your pulsating pain did not bother you anymore. Slowly with the biggest caution, you could have at that moment, you removed the makeshift bandage and examined the wound. It was still bleeding, rather profusely, despite the pressure band over the injury. The longer you stared at it, the more light-headed you felt.

You heard somebody opened the door and Zemo entered the bathroom. You had not had enough power to say something sarcastic about his way of respecting somebody’s privacy.

“What are you doing? I don’t need any help,” you observed Zemo as he sat next to you with a first aid kit.

“I’m not going to do anything. But you might need this if you really want to take care of the wound,” you snorted and took the kit. “Why did you do that? Why did you take a bullet for me?”

“Does it really matter?” as you heard nothing from the man, you looked up and saw Baron watching you expectantly. “I must deliver you alive if I want my sister to stay alive,” you answered hesitantly, cleaning the wound. 

“It is admirable how dedicated you are to your sister, Y/N.”

“Is it though? If not her I would be free as wind getting other shady figures for actual money. Not to mention that it was not, the plan,” you scoffed and gritted your teeth as the wound began to burn hellishly. 

“I would do anything to save my family.”

“I know Zemo, I know it,” you agreed looking at him softly, and then you sighed heavily. “I will need your help with it. I thought the bullet went clean through, but I can’t see any exit wound.”

“How could you not know it?” he asked in growing amusement. 

“I don’t know man. I am high as kite, Zemo. I don’t really feel that much,” you looked blankly at the hole in your arm for a moment before you gave him a pair of forceps. “I will cut the wound from both sides and you have to take the bullet out, got it?” He nodded in agreement.

You proceeded with careful cuts along the edge of the wound, as precise as you could. You took a deeper breath and nodded for Zemo to try and retrieve the bullet. Even though you were on strong painkillers, it was almost impossible to not move or whine. 

“Don’t move, Y/N. I almost have it,” you grabbed the bath edge firmly trying not to shift any more.

“Easy to say… Fuc–” a cry of pain escaped your mouth in the same moment as the bullet was taken out. “Oh, God that was awful. I will never get used to it. Thank you,” shakily you reached for a needle and thread to close the wound. 

“Let me,” he took over the instruments and without further ado, he quickly stitched the wound and put a fresh bandage over it. 

“Hey! You alive in there? We heard some screaming,” you heard Sam from the other side of the bathroom door and lightly smiled.

“Yes, it’s alright,” Zemo answered as he helped you to stand up from the floor.

“He cares, doesn’t he? Even if you did him wrong, he cares.”

“Yes, he does,” Sokovian agreed. Still supporting you, he led you to the sofa, on which you fell with relief as you were feeling more and more dizzy. “Du solltest dich ein bisschen ausruhen, Y/N. Du hast ziemlich viel Blut verloren.”

“Yeah, yeah, was auch immer,” you weaved him off impatiently and laid down with your feet up. 

You felt absolutely awkward that you got yourself shot because you pushed Zemo to the side. It was probably one of the dumbest things you have ever done. Well, if you counted being caught by Winter Soldier, that is the other dumbest thing you did. It was not your best day at all. You heard somebody was clamouring in the kitchen pouring water into a kettle and then into small cups. 

“How are you?” You looked at James, who asked you the question.

“Gut,” you replied shortly, taking the cup of tea from Zemo. You felt in fact a bit better as the medications you were given truly kicked in. 

You pressed yourself deeper into the sofa with your eyes closed, trying to rest for a while. You disconnected completely from external stimuli, focusing on your breathing, and calming the heartbeat. Even though you lost some blood, you didn’t feel that bad. 

Suddenly you heard the sound of breaking glass and louder exchanges. You opened your eyes and looked at Zemo surprised as the Americans went dealing with their things.

“You can’t play with others, can you?” you asked with a soft chuckle making him some space on the sofa to sit. “I know you probably have some plan but still, being followed by the Wakandians, and bounty hunters, and probably some other killers it’s not an easy thing to cope with.”

“You think I need protection?” you showed off your arm. “I don’t need any, I am perfectly able to use my mind to gain in every situation.”

“I’m just saying that playing on different fronts at the same time always ends rather badly,” you finished off your tea and put the glass on the table. 

“What can I say, I am a wanted man,” you snorted lightly at his words. He was truly the most wanted man at the moment. 

“What was that tea again?”

“Cherry blossom, why?”

“I feel – dizzy,” you said unsure. You looked at the glass and at him, and then back at the glass. And then it clicked. “You little –”

“Shh, mein Schätzchen,” he immediately caught your falling head and swiftly stood up, making a place for you to lay down. “You will sleep for some time.” 

You felt so heavy and dizzy, you had no power to fight with him. The last thing you saw was Zemo unfolding a blanket and putting it over you.

“What’s wrong with her?”

“Nothing Sam, she just fell asleep after the pills I gave her to ease the pain,” Zemo lied without a blink of an eye and made sure you were comfortably sleeping. “We should probably move.”

***

You woke up sometime later, just as Zemo said. What he didn’t mention was an extreme headache you got as soon as you opened your eyes.

“What a fucker…” you murmured as you got up from the sofa, throwing the blanket on the side. How thoughtful, you thought ironically looking at the material.

There was no one in the apartment and as you figured out, they have probably been gone for the funeral ceremony to talk with Karli. You moaned softly, rubbing your temples in hope that the pain will go away. It didn’t do anything and bright light coming through the stained windows wasn’t especially helpful either. 

You wandered around the room and kitchen to find some painkillers. You suspiciously sniffled tea in a small metal box, still remembering what Zemo did. As you thought about it, if he didn’t get into a quarrel with James all of them would be asleep and Zemo would have been far away. A perfect getaway. 

“Rather shameful not to carry it to the end,” you said to yourself washing down the painkiller with a drink. But then again, it was Zemo considered so he probably saw another opportunity for him to run away. 

As slowly the painkillers once again started to work, you decided to go back to your rented room and take your belongings. It was hard to guess when your company would be back and you didn’t want to risk them, at least James and Sam, discovering you were gone, and the hideout was left unsupervised. But then again, you shrugged your arms carelessly it was not your responsibility to look after it.

You poured water into a kettle and put it on the burner of the stove. I’ll be back before the water boils, you thought and took one Turkish delight on your way out. 

In fact, you got back just in time to take the kettle off the heat and make some tea for yourself and you started to explore the residence in search of some clothes to change. You did not really think it would take that much time to extract Zemo. It was supposed to be a day, give, or take. The whole situation of you being captured and somehow kept hostage was not included in the plan.

You took off your torn blouse and dropped it on the floor, in search of something new to wear. You looked through one of the few wardrobes that had any clothes in it. Mostly male, but you also found a few dresses and children's clothes. As tempting as it was to wear one of the dresses, you felt it would be somehow a sacrilege to wear Zemo’s wife clothes. Instead, you chose one of his purple shirts and tried it on. It would suit you nicely if not the zip across the chest which was a bit tight, so you had to keep it slightly unzipped. 

You returned to the kitchen, finding yourself extremely hungry if not ravenous. Eating more Turkish delight would do no good either, as they were extremely sweet. Rummaging through kitchen cabinets you found ingredients to make a stew and you thought everyone could eat something warm. You quickly chopped some vegetables and put them in a ceramic casserole along with meat and seasoning. Now all you had to do was to wait and control if it’s not burning.

“Du siehst gut aus in meinem Kleidern,” you heard suddenly as you were checking up the food in the stove.

“Danke,” you kept your smile for yourself and you turned around to see three men coming in. Zemo went straight for a piece of cloth and wet it in ice-cold water, which he put over his eyes as soon as he lied on the sofa.

“I thought you would be gone, the second you wake up,” Sam was rather surprised to see you casually cooking.

“Warum? Ich muss ihn abfangen. Er ist mein Ziel,” you took out the stew out of the oven and put it on the counter. 

“And you made us food?” you took four plates out of the cupboard and put them on the table along with silverware.

“Ja, warum nicht?” you were quite content of yourself as the food smelled wonderful and you took pleasure in cooking it. You missed your domestic life dearly especially knowing it was impossible to get it back. 

“Das ist sehr nett von dir, Y/N,” you muttered under your nose to his words and poured him some bourbon. Zemo looked as you could use some.

„Und mich zu betäuben war nicht sehr nachdenklich von dir, Zemo,” you replied angrily, handing him the drink as he lied on the sofa with cold patch over his head. „Was ist mir dir passiert? Bitte essen.” 

With the move of your hand, you showed Sam and James to sit at the table and eat what you have prepared.

“She invites you to eat,” he translated, slowly drinking his bourbon. “Der neue Captain America warf seinen Schild auf mich ,” he then replied to your question and removed the compress. 

“Was?” you chuckled at the mere thought of him being knocked out like this. “Komm, du muss auch essen.” You encouraged Zemo to join the Americans at the table and eat together.

The four of you sat awkwardly at the table as you were putting food on the plates and handing them over to each of them. 

“So, Sam would you consider taking the serum if you were offered it? Hypothetically speaking, of course,” you said nothing just rolling your eyes internally. What a perfect question to ask at the table.

“No,” he cut it shortly between the bites.

“No hesitation? That’s admirable.”

You looked at James sitting quietly as you and eating. You sensed he was still tormented by his past and listening to them hypothetically speaking about taking or not the super-solider serum was uneasy. You felt sorry for him being used as a pawn in other’s men fight. Living without the ability to decide what to do must be haunting, let alone the knowledge of your forced actions.

“Danke,” you heard from him as he finished eating. 

“Gern geschehen,” you couldn’t help but to give him a warm smile and watched him go to another room to get some rest. He was still bothered by his past and even though he tried his best to make it go away, it did not work as he wished it to work.

Zemo as he finished, also stood up but helped you with cleaning the table and putting dishes into a dishwasher. Then once more he retrieved to his favourite, horizontal position on the sofa with another drink and cold compress. Unfortunately, his rest didn’t last long as two men stormed into the apartment. 

“All right. That’s it. Let’s go. I’m now ordering you to turn him over,” Walker said authoritarian pointing at Zemo.

“Shield or no shield, the only thing you’re runnin’ in here is your mouth,” Sam confronted him as everyone tensed up for inevitable conflict. “He’s actually proven himself useful today.”

“Who is she?” Walker pointed at you rudely as soon as he was denied getting Zemo.

“Temporal associate,” you heard Sam answering in your favour.

“Another criminal? You two are just falling down as you collaborate with such people,” he summed that up in his pretentious, all-knowing manner. He looked at you for a moment. “John Walker, Captain America.”

“Ich weiß das,” you muttered to him.

“Can’t she speak like normal language?” you heard Walker scoffing.

“You know, people can use different languages too, Walker. Maybe learn another?”

“That’s how it’s going to be, Sam? Should I put my shield down, to make it fair?” Sam smiled lightly with disbelief. That man was insufferable. 

The atmosphere was tense, and it was seconds away for Sam and Walker to start the fight. It was postponed for a while only due to a sudden appearance of a spear that stuck into the column right next to Walker’s head. The Dora Milaje arrived, and they had no fucks to give.

The leader of them start talking with James in Wakandian, and you knew it was the time they wanted to get Zemo to pay for what he has done.

“Hi, John Walker. Captain America.”

Is he dense or something?, you thought looking at how thoughtlessly his actions were. Even you knew not to disregard Dora Milaje nor to interfere in their businesses, and he was going straight into it. You saw his partner being a bit agitated by the sudden entrance of warriors.

“Sagt er das jedes Mal, wenn er sich vorstellt?” you snorted watching how Walker was trying to talk reason to the Wakandian, and even you knew it was one of the stupidest things he could do.

“Yep,” James said pouring himself a drink.

As you have foreseen second after John’s hand was on Dora Milaje’s arm he was doomed as three of them attacked him and Lemar.

“Are we going to do something about it?” Sam asked James, who took quite a pleasure observing the fight.

“Looking strong, John,” he shouted back at the fighting men. 

You could not help it as a short laugh escape your mouth. It did not take long for Sam to join the quarrel and shortly after James followed him.

As Falcon and Winter Soldier came into the fight, you approached Zemo and asked, “Should I also fight them as your champion? To get the right to, have you?” you smiled cheekily over your whisky.

“You can have me any moment, you want Y/N,” you choked on your drink. “Now, if you excuse me.”

You watched him taking a bottle of alcohol and aggressively zeroed his glass. Then undisturbed by anyone he went to the bathroom and just before closing the door, your eyes meet. You perfectly knew Zemo was escaping and all you did was to raise your glass towards him and finish your drink. 

That’s going to be fun, you thought pouring another glass of whiskey, watching how everyone is getting their asses whooped. 

***

“How could you let him go?” you held up your arms in a gesture of ineffable incomprehension of your act.

“C’mon man, it’s not that we need him that much now. We must focus on our mission, Bucky. I know it’s hard for you, I know it, but we can’t blow it away,” Sam put his hand on James’s shoulder and squeezed it lightly, trying to reassure and comfort him.

“I helped him escape from Berlin that was enough for Dora Milaje,” James said sternly and stopped in front of the building they had set up a meeting in. “You can’t go in, Y/N, two of us is already too many.”

“Klar,” you agreed and watched them go inside the beast’s belly. 

You walked down the street, heading to a small square located in this part of Riga. You surprisingly found yourself enjoying this short stroll without anyone to interrupt you or anyone to chase after. Quite a lovely vacation you could have had. You liked this city as it had interesting history and architecture that survived Second World War. 

The fountain in the middle of the square was captivating and a lot of tourists were taking pictures of it. You were surprised that despite incidents caused by your company, there were organised groups and sightseeing tours. You admired the monument for a longer while until you noticed something on the opposite side of it. 

“I thought you would be far away from here,” you approached slowly Zemo, standing in the shadow.

“I thought about it but then again I feel somewhat responsible for how everybody jumped to each other’s throats just to be able to get me.”

“Isn’t that what you are famous for? And don’t tell me you feel bad about it,” he looked at you and smirked.

“Bad, no but it’s rather tiresome for me. I don’t really take any joy from it,” Zemo hesitated for a second and you could tell he dropped some part of his act. You could have seen the very broken man who was the reason for the Avengers split. “Why not a dress?”

“What?” you were taken by surprise with his question.

“There were few dresses in the closet, and you decided to take my shirt,” you looked at Zemo frowning.

“I won’t do anything to it, if that’s what you mean,” you tried to laugh it off, but it wasn’t successful. “I thought it would have been strange to wear your wife’s.”

“I wouldn’t mind if someone could do a good use of them,” he smiled sadly. “Anyway, I enjoyed your company today. It reminded me of your visits when I was imprisoned.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, staring blankly at the pavement. That was quite charming of him and you smirked at this thought. 

“Yes, me – ” you stopped talking at the sudden sound of breaking glass and crushing metal. 

In front of you two men were fighting, of which one was much more superior. You watched Walker throwing his shield again and again at the man, treating him like a training bag. 

What the actual fuck, you thought as you heard other man pleading for his life, but Walker was out. He didn’t hear him nor listen to him, there was something more going on. He put the shield up, above his head and allowed his rage to take control over him. Walker repeatedly smashed the head of the poor man several times with his shield and then he stood with it. 

Unmoved. Triumphant in his imagination. Covered in blood splashes. And the shield bathed in bloody strains shimmered ominously. The new era of superheroes has arrived in its brutal glory. Unstoppable. Utterly frightening. 

“Jesus and that is how Captain America deal with things now?” you couldn’t believe your own eyes, as Walker murdered a man in daylight. “Now, I can see more vivid than ever why super-soldiers pose a threat to the order.”

“The whole world is watching, and they know what he did. He will be never forgiven for such a barbaric act. Previous Captain America stood for what the US wanted to be, righteous and good. This one, he’s … he’s what America is like. Brutal and not afraid to kill anyone who wronged it,” you listened to Zemo seeing how every single one of passing by people were with a phone, recording or even streaming live this whole situation.

“Where are you going now?” you looked at him for a moment, still cautiously monitoring the surroundings, trying to digest the terrifying view. 

“Sokovia, or rather to what is left of it…” Zemo answered looking plainly before himself. “Will you give me a week?”

“I will give you two days tops before I go after you again, Zemo.”

“Good enough,” he smiled lightly and looked at you. “Don’t you want to come with me?”

“Nah, I’m good. I want to be around here and see how this will develop.”

All of sudden he caught your chin and moved it up, and then kissed you gently. You stood in awe, trying to figure out what on earth was going on, as you were not completely over that you have witnessed Captain America going apeshit. But after a moment of suspension, you kissed him back.

“Care to explain?” you asked as you separated from the kiss.

“People tend to feel uncomfortable when they see a kissing couple and I didn’t want to be filmed,” he said with a charming smile. “I don’t want Sam nor James to find me before I want to be found.”

“People or you wanted me to feel uncomfortable?” it felt strange but in a good way. You only hoped that he wasn’t trying to play with you as well as he did with others. 

“And are you?” you rolled your eyes with a groan. He was acting impossible. As he managed to temporarily escape his guards, Zemo was probably going to be even more of himself than he already was.

“I will see you in two days, Zemo.”

“That’s the plan,” he smirked and disappeared into the crowd.

________________________________________________________ German vocab.: Oh, mein Gott, Y/N, sprichst du noch kein Englisch? – Oh my God, Y/N, can’t you really speak English? Übrigens war dein Tanzen komisch. – By the way, your dancing was ridiculous. Ich dachte, ich habe dich dort gesehen. – I thought, I have seen you there. Du war recht – You were right.Es tut mir sehr leid. – I’m very sorry.Hör jetzt auf, Zemo. Du kümmerst dich nur um dich selbst und zerstören Super-Soldaten. Das ist es. – Stop it now, Zemo. You only take care of yourself and to destroy super soldiers. That's it.Wunderbar! – Wonderful. Du starrst. – You are staring. Ich kenne dich und bin dennoch überrascht, wie du diese Männer behandelst. Sind sie nicht deine Feinde, Zemo? – I know you and am still surprised how you treat these men. Aren't they your enemies, Zemo? Im Moment sind sie nützlich. Das ist alle. – Right now, they are useful. That's all. Das hört sich nicht so schlecht an. – That doesn't sound too bad. Was machen wir jetzt? – What are we going to do? Ich bin überrascht, dass du nicht versucht hast, sie zwischen Städten zu verlieren – I'm surprised you didn't try to lose them between cities. Nun, wie ich schon sagte, sie sind ein Mittel zum Zweck, das ist alles – Well, like I said, they're a means to an end, that's all. Was hast du in den letzten Jahren gemacht? – What have you been doing in the last few years? Nichts Besonderes, aber ich war für 5 Jahre wegen dieser Snap weg. Jetzt bin ich hier… - Nothing special, but I was gone for 5 years because of the Snap. Now I'm here… Du verstehst mich? – You understand me, yes? Was machst du mit ihm? Wenn du er nicht mehr brauchst? – What are you going to do with him? When you no longer need him? Und die Wakanderin? –  And the Wakandian? Nicht genommen – Non taken. Was ist los? – What’s going on? Jetzt nichts als ich denke jemand folgt uns. – Nothing now but I think someone is following us. Der Power Broker hat Leute nach drei von Ihnen geschickt – The power broker sent man after the three of you. Achtung! – Watch out! Warte. Versuche es zu drücken – Hold on. Try to push it. Und der Söldner? – And the mercenary? Du solltest dich ein bisschen ausruhen, Y/N. Du hast ziemlich viel Blut verloren – You should take a rest. You lost a lot of blood. Yeah, yeah, was auch immer. – Yeah, whatever. Gut – good Mein Schätzchen – darling Du siehst gut aus in meinem Kleidern – You look good in my clothes Danke – Thanks Warum? Ich muss ihn abfangen. Er ist mein Ziel – Why? I have to intercept him. He is my target. Ja, warum nicht? – Yes, why not? Das ist sehr nett von dir – That’s nice of you Und mich zu betäuben war nicht sehr nachdenklich von dir – And knocking me out wasn’t very thoughtful of you Was ist mir dir passiert? – What have happened to you? Bitte essen – please eat Der neue Captain America warf seinen Schild auf mich – The new Captain America threw his shield at me. Was? – What? Komm, du muss auch essen – Come, you too should eat. Gern geschehen – You’re welcome Klar - Clear

[plateofamborsia]

Meet Amaya Lin! Adult (She/Her , Lesbian , Aries) For @whiimms Bachelorette Challenge

Traits - Active , Ambitious And Outgoing Aspiration - Extreme Sports Enthusiast Career - Retired Athlete Thoughts On Noelle - "Look I've always thought Noelle was stunning, I normally hate cheesy rom coms but I watched one with this girl on a first date and Noelle starred in it. Oh man, I couldn't take my eyes off her. It did ruin that date but I didn't really care." Dream Date - "A good friend of mine owns a bistro in Tartosa and I'd love to take the right girl there, afterwards we would take any leftovers and watch the sunset on the beach. I may seem super sport focused but I'm a romantic at heart." Bonus Facts! - Despite being a pro athlete Amaya is a junk food feind and will raid the fridge for sweet treats after a day on the slopes.

Backstory Amaya was born into a famous family that graced plumbob picture screens for generations, alas her own parents failed miserably at any kind of notoriety. The Lins luck changed after a 5 year old Amaya discovered her athletic prowess, after this her life revolved around sport and training with her eventual pursuit of tennis landing her a Grand Slam victory at Simbeldon. After too too many years in the public eye, she retired to Mount Komorebi to start a family of her own. Her bad luck in love left the Sporting Sensation with some much needed 'me time'. But she ended up taking up extreme snow sports as a 'light hobby'. By entering herself into the show Amaya hopes to mellow herself out and find the woman of her dreams.

Origin ID : LunaLove45

Could Noelle be the one?

[officialwagnerrant]

Wagnerrant Review #6 - Tristan und Isolde

Work: Tristan und Isolde Bayerische Staatsoper Date of performance: 31.07.202

Team Director: Krzysztof Warlikowski Conductor: Kirill Petrenko With: Jonas Kaufmann, Anja Harteros, Okka von der Damerau, Wolfgang Koch, Mika Kares, Manuel Günther, Dean Power, Christian Rieger

Review: @beckmessering

Here’s an entirely hypothetical question: when not very familiar with an opera, is a Regietheater production with hotly anticipated role debuts the best opportunity to form an emotional understanding? Answers may vary, but take it from a someone whose opera education had a shamefully large Tristan-shaped hole: Krzysztof Warlikowski’s Tristan und Isolde at Bayerische Staatsoper is a production to to gnaw on – conceptually elusive and a puzzle with many pieces, but finally a great reward in scenery and in music.

Jonas Kaufmann lends Tristan his well-known baritonal timbre, although it’s not quite as prominent as usual. His voice is dense and rich, though not artificially darkened, and brings delicate piani as well as strength to the role. The third act with Tristan’s near-incessant monologues of increasing volume and intensity provide an audible challenge that doesn’t leave Kaufmann’s voice untouched: he sounds somewhat taxed by the time he’s finally allowed to collapse once and for all. Granted, it’s a punishing and brutal feat; the sheer amount of energy required to sing oneself to death likely isn’t equivalent to the amount a badly wounded man would still have. Kaufmann thus doesn’t quite look to be on death’s door despite a shirt soaked in progressively darker shades of red, but he nonetheless he provides a well-grounded interpretation of one titular character. He steers away from classic hero territory into something more nuanced and disconcerting if one only looks closely enough – Isolde, for that matter, hits the nail on the head when she replies “Frag deine Furcht!” to his “Und welchen Feind?”. He’s scared – or perhaps haunted by thoughts that won’t leave him alone, unable to keep his hands and his gaze still when not singing. He doesn’t outright long for death, but from the very start, he sure doesn’t seem at ease with life, either. Something isn’t quite right with Tristan – and just the right person is needed to unleash it fully.

That just-right-person is Anja Harteros as Isolde, who deserves perhaps the audience’s grandest ovation. Vocally, she is still in excellent shape until the last measures of her delicately sung Liebestod, having preserved her gleaming heights and pristine sound over all three acts. Her middle register, uniquely crystalline and incredibly poignant, could conceivably serve to distinguish her voice from thousands. Yet her singing by far isn’t too pretty to show feelings – Harteros’ voice suits a seething young woman with a rich inner life that progressively unfolds throughout the opera. “Lass’ uns Sühne trinken!“ is an actual threat, one that Tristan wholeheartedly embraces. After losing herself in love in the second act, she reemerges from it lonely and bitingly aware of it. Her grief, like her rage, is controlled yet bone-deep, and it inevitably leads her to die. Perhaps something wasn’t quite right with Isolde, too.

Wolfgang Koch sings Kurwenal with a vivacious, robust baritone that energetically prizes life – a great contrast to Tristan’s inclinations. However, Koch stays far from acting clownish, particularly in the third act, where he wears the worry about his friend on his sleeve, but ultimately remains powerless against Tristan’s impending death. While the latter ecstatically sings himself into delirium, Koch remains comparatively static, demonstrating his character’s inability to help and by extension, vastly different attitude towards life.

Okka von der Damerau’s Brangäne is a well-meaning figure trying her best to put Isolde at ease in this admittedly highly tense situation. While initially reminiscent of a caring aunt, the two women’s bond becomes far more sisterly in nature once the first act’s dialogue – or perhaps conspiracy – around Isolde’s secret potion stash unfolds. She braves the act’s finale with top notes of impressive volume and provides a surprisingly bright, silvery metallic sound for a mezzo. Considering the standout dynamic between the two women, it’s perhaps fitting that her voice blends so smoothly with Isolde’s and even elicits comparisons to a soprano’s sound.

Mika Kares as King Marke packs much disappointment into his clear, well-articulated bass, though it’s about far more than the good old besmirching of honour – this betrayal is personal to him and runs deep. Regrettably, he’s given little to do once he has discovered the wrongdoers in each other’s arms except stalk back and forth between Tristan and Isolde, so he resorts to various pronounced eye movements that verge on accidentally amusing. Brangäne’s single look of horror upon assessing the scene says more than any eye movement could.

Kirill Petrenko’s conducting is fluid, gentle, a statement in and of itself never at the cost of the singers. He crafts the prelude into an intensely lyrical treat, promising much and delivering on that by keeping the orchestra’s sound light yet rich enough to satisfy. He eschews heaviness, but never at the expense of intensity. Particularly the tense moments of the first act are played out very well, and the performance is audibly a successful collaboration between singers, conductor and orchestra: the singers are never drowned out, the orchestra makes its mark, and Petrenko himself brings both together with excellent timing to savour a spectrum of emotions.

Director Krzysztof Warlikowski transplants the setting into a wood-panelled room with high ceilings that traps all characters within its high ceiling, allowing them little escape from what troubles them. This room serves as a continuous backdrop throughout all three acts, although each act adds elements uniquely suited to the current happenings. During the prelude, two silent dancers dressed as almost frighteningly life-like dolls, one male and one female, appear. Their movements are tentative, childlike, evocative of a fragile state as they interact and cautiously touch each other. In the second act, a projection that previously illustrated the view outside a ship’s porthole serves as perhaps an emotional window into the lovers’ psyche. It shows grainy, black-and-white footage of Isolde sitting – waiting – alone on a bed, suggestive of a security camera’s spying eye. In the film, Tristan enters only during “O sink hernieder” and the two sit silently next to each other sans any eye contact, while the real-life Tristan of course has of course entered the stage some time ago. While both of these elements receive their resolution in the final act, the act two film is already subtly reflective of the singers’ actions onstage. While the first act was far more dynamic in terms of interaction, much of this movement disappeared once Tristan and Isolde fell in love, causing the lovers to remain comparatively static during their time together. This takes some time to notice and even more time to get used to, but it allows for much inference on the nature of this love. It’s of the paralysing sort, and it can’t coexist with normal life and regular interaction. There is wallowing in this love or interacting with the rest of the world – but ultimately, a choice will be have to be made. It’s a consuming love, yet clearly not of the physical or even romantic sort, judging from the frequent lack of touch and eye contact – perhaps it’s more of a kinship, a matter of two people having found a part of themselves in each other that they had lost. In any case, the concept avoids the stylisation of Tristan and Isolde’s love as something bright or pure – they may be enraptured, but their state of intoxication doesn’t induce wishful thinking in the audience. The music, more than anything else, connects the lovers with the onlookers. It’s a maddeningly subtle concept of interaction that can easily be taken as stiff or confused with lack of ideas, and the only time it doesn’t pay off is during King Marke’s confrontation in the second act, where Mika Kares isn’t given enough space to physically communicate the emotions of the normal world.

The place of Tristan’s youth in the third act finally unites the previously introduced ideas: Tristan awakes at a table surrounded by dolls seated at a dinner table and dressed like the one representing him in the prelude. As he recalls the early death of his parents, the suggestion that he grew up in a boarding-school atmosphere and carried the burden of being orphaned plants the core idea that he comes from a place of loneliness. Absent a place of emotional safety and affection, his outlook on life is shaped by the inner fragility and unsteadiness he was instead endowed with, and causes him to escape into a love – or a construct – that opposes this life. The question of whether his love is static and at odds with life by nature or rather by Tristan’s nature remains somewhat open, but both are conceivable. During Isolde’s Liebestod, the projections return, showing the lovers lying side by side on the bed again while the room floods with water. As the two inevitably drown, they gaze into each other’s eyes for the first time while the film turns colourful. What initially seems oddly romanticising of death and clichefully pleasant becomes exceptionally poignant when seen as the lovers’ attitude towards death and final fulfilment rather than the director’s views.

It’s an interpretation that becomes more wrenching the longer one thinks about it – multi-layered, elusive, and it refreshingly strays from unduly heroic characterisations that don’t fit the story well. Admittedly, the focus is somewhat aimed at Tristan, and by necessity of the set, much of the psychologization of Isolde in the first act has to occur in the same setting Tristan’s mind will eventually be dissected in. Partially bound by the story and partially by the staging, she can’t be given the same due, which, considering Harteros’ standout Isolde, is a slight shame. Nonetheless, the production doesn’t feel uneven, and when adding music and singers, it becomes a harmonising whole entity. I myself may have closed my eyes in an attempt to fall in love, and I don’t see anything more befitting this opera.

[moonlit-enby]

Hi feind! Hug how are you doing, i hope lifes treating you well

Hi! Sorry for late reply hdhdh every time I saw this I got distracted >.< I’m doing okay recently, just a bit lonely hehe. We’ve been very busy with work and school and yada yada but we’re doing okay I think!

We started doing the free therapy on campus (second session is later today actually) and we’ve been taking our meds n whatnot so things are okay. Still financial problems unfortunately but that’s life heh. We have some tests coming up this week so hopefully they go well!

Hope that you’re doing well and have a great day!! 🧡

[autumn-foxfire]

It's so weird when dabi stans will list off all the people who invalidated dabi after the reveal: BJ calling a feind, shoto calling him insane, deku talking about endeavor, and now the citizens calling him annoying as if dabi is super hurt by it and personally cares. Like I understand pointing out how the writing itself could hurt abuse survivors or be insensitive, but dabi himself doesn't care. He's not real first of all but even in story he gives 0 fucks about how people view him.

They also ignore why these things happen (and by no way were any of those characters invalidating Dabi, these stans need to learn what that means). Dabi wasn’t called a fiend and insane because he’s an abuse surviver, he was called as such because HE WAS TRYING TO MURDER HIS BABY BROTHER AND JUST PARTICIPATED IN A MURDER MARCH.

I’m also getting tired of otherwise tame insults being treated like they’re some of the biggest sins you can commit against each other. People call Dabi insane because no rational person would excuse the murder of their baby brother. They’re not saying that all mentally ill or abuse victims are insane, just Dabi.

I swear people make mountains out of mole hills in this fandom :/

[formerlyknownas-delight]

9, 28, 29, 30, 40, 48, 54, 62, 68, 71, 73, 90 and 98!!! SMOOCHSMOOCH

Thank you, my love!

9. favorite smell inthe summer? 

Sunscreen!28. five songs to describe you?

Oh je. Bester Feind by RosenstolzBevor ichmit den Wölfen Heule by Reinhard Mey

Coffins by Misterwives

Dread in my Heart by Mother Motheradd

I Am What I Am by Gloria Gaynor for somemuchneeded lightness29. best way to bond with you?

Watching stuff together, just chilling in closeproximity doing your own business and occasionally sharing sth funnyor interesting, cats, opening up about personal things30. places that you find sacred?

The seaburial grounds40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

It being an all-girls-school, all school playsinvolved at least some drag. Nice, in hindsight. When my classperformed Disney’s Tarzan though somebody decided we can’t havedrag!Tarzan and Jane – possibly bc of the barechestedness issue? Sothe title got turned into Tarzana and the bikiniwearing femaleprotagonist met drag!John. Decency and heteronormativity were saved!(honestly I don’t know what qualifies as weird. Praying every morningbefore class is already bonkers, but also normal? So who knows?)

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?I came up with raspberry. Bc they squish easily endthey’re smol and you have to watch out bc there might be a wormhiding insideMy wife says I’m a lychee bc I’m prickly from theoutside but juicy and sweet beneath and there’s a hard core. Alsothey’re weird

54. what did you learn from your first job?

How to solve computer problems with the help ofgoogle, how much that impresses your boomer employer and how youpresent the solution as gently as possible so his white male egodoesn’t suffer from being taught by a young female subordinate.

62. seven characters you relate to?

Elinor from the Ink Trilogy. The yearning forfictional worlds!

Willow Rosenberg from Buffy. Cute! Dork! Gay!

Blue Sargent from The Raven Cycle. Smol angryfeminist from a weird loving household

Ruby and Sapphire from Steven Universe. Epic romancefeels.

Delirium from Sandman. She has issues

Rory from Gilmore Girls. Smart introvert with chaoticextroverted and eccentric but lovable mom

Belle from Beauty and the Beast. Smalltown mood.

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’veever tried?

Pure olive oil (to treat a sore throat). Anythingbitter. Even coffee with milk makes me gag

71. least favorite pattern?

Stripes. Bad for furniture, bad for clothes, bad forwallpaper, bad for books. No òó

73. favorite weird flavor combo?

I don’t think I’m into any weird combos. Sorry

90. luckiest mistake?

Excuse you?! Mistakes?? me??? You already mentionedthe fact that we both picked the wrong subject at university butended up meeting that way. So I’m stealing that.

98. favorite historical era?

It’s boring, but I’m just very enamored by 19thcentury western history. So much burial culture!

[dimir3331]

Saw @sigardaa post something like this, was stunned and inspired to do my own.

Azra Baushone, The Shape Theif

Full name: Azra A'arok Baushone Name pronunciation: As-rah A a-rock B-ow-show-n Creature type: Shapeshifter (or vedalken demon) Home plane: Unknown (unnamed) First planeswalk: Phyrexia Color identity: blue / black

Sometimes I was born. Sometimes I was the result of a failed experiment to control the unruly temporal energies of my home plane. Sometimes both.

Thus was the nature of my first days in existence; I was lost in a place where rampant temporal instability made even existing either near-impossible, or at least highly unlikely. In this place, there are groups that would like to control, or even to fix, this instability. Known as the Conclaves, these vedalkin resided in small, stable areas, where the timeline was actually linear and true. A small group of scientist-mages braved the shattered time to reach me, sent to investigate by a court within the upper eschalon of the Eternity Knot (the largest conclave in the region).

I remember very little of that few days. The world was strange and I had no way to examine or interact with it, at least, until one of those mages that came for me was within the area of my influence. The next days or weeks after they found me were a blur, as I came to inhabit the minds of each of my 'captors' as they thought of themselves, although sometimes I felt more like they were 'saviours'. First I was Jhaneth, the young mage who was second in command of the ones responsible for maintaining the time magic that kept them safe as they passed through the time storms. And then I was Calibret, the scientist sent to assess the anomaly that had been detected. I was another, and another, and another, continually cycling through all of the group sent, never having more than a fleeting understanding of them before delving into - "becoming" - another.

Eventually, I was in brought before the court of the Conclave of the vedalken, in the Eternity Knot. A group was to "examine" me, to assess whether I held sentience, and whether I could be of use to their people.

In a tall room, made of metals and woods that reeked of the age that had permitted them to form out in the time storms, I was presented. Each member of the court sat, imperious, on high-backed chairs forming a semicircle at the back of the room behind a half-high wall, across from where I was brought in. Their surprise at watching the guard lock another guard into the examination chair was ill disguised. And the examination went downhill from the moment I was placed in that chair. As the guard walked to the back of the room, the court examiners were going to be left as the closest beings within my influence. I looked at them, having eked the basics of speach from the days of being inside the minds of their exploration party, and opened my mouth, the guards mouth, to talk. I was undisciplined; not aware of what I was doing. I opened the wrong mouth. The guard, babbling, struck the floor. How was I to know I had tried to use his mouth instead of my own? Or that the psychic intrusion would knock him unconscious, leaving me to turn into members of the magistrate at random, as the mind I had been linked to was emptied? Impressively, there was a astir, and the unconscious guard was grabbed and taken for medical aide, but not pandemonium. They looked at me, an entity that they felt personified the instability of their world, and there was horror. Horror and disgust. These emotions, they did not show; but I felt them.

I sat, locked in a chair, psychically watching myself be found an abomination. They turned to one another, just as I found who the head judge was, and I felt the decision already made in my mind to destroy the abomination- to destroy the being sitting in the chair, staring at the magistrate with their own eyes- to destroy me. I felt desperation, within my own mind- not the mind I had become, but within my own self. I was scared. They were- we were- going to....

And I was elsewhere,

Disoriented. It was bright, I was locked to a chair and then... Dark. Fire in the distance, but a place that had no other light. With no minds nearby, I soon melted into a formless goo, but enough of my mind remained for me to realise I needed to move towards those fires. Enough of my mind to retain some of my senses.

The next few years were not easy. The place I had landed was called Phyraxia, a rotten husk of a plane. Mortal beings existed only to give the demons, feinds, and devilish machinery something to play with. I eventually eked out a corner, a cave that even the demons treated as haunted due to my presence. While none kneeled to me, I had the respect of all, for even their mightiest met an even match in me, and knowing a mind allowed me to get the upper hand if attacked or betrayed.

In the years I spent there, I learned how to planeswalk. It was not easy at the beginning, because I would lose coherent form and turn back (instinctively knowing that to wander the eternities without a form would be.... Hazardous).

This spurred me to create a form of my own, out of the memories I had of the earliest beings I recalled. As such I found something to fall back on rather than forming a puddle, and with this change, I found new strength. As a gelationous blob, I hadn't had a true mind to hold my psychic power within. When I formed a body the ability to truely retain memories, to retain a form despite losing connection to the host, EYES, legs, wings, and arms- all very useful- became permanent.

It was during the early years of my exploration of new planes that I came across Ashiok, and my existence itself has changed ever since.

[raiyine]

AUTHOR INTERVIEW: Feind Gottes

AUTHOR INTERVIEW: Feind Gottes

Meghan: Hey, Feind! Welcome back! What is your favorite part of Halloween? Feind: When I was very young my favorite thing at Halloween was seeing The Wizard of Oz on TV. The Wicked Witch was the first thing I ever remember scaring the bejesus out of me and it also meant trick or treating was only a few days away. These days it always seems to play around Christmas which makes zero sense to me.…

[patriotnewsdaily]

New Post has been published on PatriotNewsDaily.com

New Post has been published on https://patriotnewsdaily.com/hollywood-weapons-expert-alec-baldwin-ignored-the-no-1-rule-of-gun-safety/

Hollywood Weapons Expert: Alec Baldwin Ignored the No. 1 Rule of Gun Safety

Hollywood weapons expert Bryan Carpenter responded of the death and injuries related to Alec Baldwin’s discharge of a prop gun while filming by suggesting Baldwin ignored the number rule of gun safety.

Breitbart News reported that the Santa Fe County Sheriff’s Office was investigating after Baldwin discharged the gun on the set of ‘Rust’ Thursday, killing 42-year-old director of photography Halyna Hutchins and wounding director 48-year-old Joel Souza.

The New York Post quoted Carpenter stressing that the No. 1 rule as, “Loaded or unloaded, a weapon never gets pointed at another human being.”

He noted that rules of gun safety apply even on a movie set, where “you never let the muzzle of a weapon cover something you don’t intend to destroy.”

An additional, overarching gun safety rule is that individuals are to treat every gun as if is loaded. This rule goes hand-in-hand with the one on which Carpenter focused and also negates pointing a gun at anyone, as the firearm is always presumed loaded.

In addition to the gun safety issues, the International Alliance of Theatrical Stage Employees claim “Halyna Hutchins was killed by a live round of ammunition.”

The Post spoke with former filmmaker and US National Shooting Team member Peter Lake, who said, “I can’t think of any reason there would be a live round anywhere on set. They are generally prohibited from movie sets. There is no explanation I can think of why there would be a live round in a gun on set. You certainly wouldn’t have it in the hands of an actor.”

Alec Baldwin has been an anti-gun activist for years, even participating in an anti-NRA ad campaign.

Alec Baldwin ist ein großer Feind der zweiten Verfassungszusatzes und hat sich immer stark gegen die NRA aufgestellt. Dennoch hat er wie viele andere Pharisäer im Filmgeschäft gut abgeräumt mit Filmen, in denen Gewalt verherrlicht u Menschen erschossen wurden.

Karma is a bitch. pic.twitter.com/exsG9ZFl4Q

— Fragjanur® (nach Diktat verreist) (@mungo_pa) October 22, 2021

One of his more prominent gun control tweets has come back to haunt him in the aftermath of Thursday’s shooting. Breitbart News reported one of Baldwin’s tweets from years gone by in which he wrote, “I wonder how it must feel to wrongfully kill someone.”

Attorney Andrew Stoltmann told Fox News he believes actor Alec Baldwin “needs to start thinking like a potential defendant instead of just somebody who made a tragic mistake.”

Stoltmann added, “I’m certainly not saying he’s going to be charged, but what I am saying is anytime somebody shoots another human being – even on accident, even in self-defense – the police and eventually prosecutors look very, very carefully at what happened.”

[dancehall-song-lyrics]

Jazmine Sullivan - Put It Down Lyrics

Put It Down Lyrics by Jazmine Sullivan (It must be the way he touch me) Yeah, yeah He live with his momma but I treat him like a king Yeah, every time he come around, he got me acting like a feind When he be asking me for money, I can never tell him no And when he say he wanna see me, I drop everything and go I know he makes me look cray I do whatever he say ya Tell me the time and the place He…

[jamaica-song-lyrics]

Jazmine Sullivan - Put It Down Lyrics

Put It Down Lyrics by Jazmine Sullivan (It must be the way he touch me) Yeah, yeah He live with his momma but I treat him like a king Yeah, every time he come around, he got me acting like a feind When he be asking me for money, I can never tell him no And when he say he wanna see me, I drop everything and go I know he makes me look cray I do whatever he say ya Tell me the time and the place He…

[kings-notebook]

I went though all of my original consept ‘journey’ idead (Hotblack-dnd, Home-the past and Charlies- spooky alien stuff) and tried to figure out a story or conective narrative that could go between all of them

And the only thing i could think of and though i could have fun and design a lot of cool different looking images for was Hotblack-dnd

Curse you Alen, you win again

So whats the narritive? you may be asking, sit tight and i’ll tell you a little story

So recently in game my character - Alen - has been going though a very big turning point. Hes a warlock, which is a spell caster who makes a pack with a minor deyity (feind, fey, eldrich horror....sword ect) where they do the beings bidding and the being gives them power. Alen ‘‘befriended’‘ a fey by the name of Crow as a child, when he was kicked out that fey used this opotunity to make a pact with Alen. Alen was a very angry and lonely child as he was neglected and abused a good bit for being a half elf, being kicked out of home with no money and no real life skills made him very vunerable and obviously the perfect person to become dependend on Crow and do their bidding. Crow is a fey who loves chaos, and Alen being a angry mess was happy to insight Crows chaos and become ‘powerful’ as he does

When our dnd game started and Alen joint the party hes in, for the first time in his life he was around people who did not instantly push him away, down, or just oggle and whisper about him behind his back. They became a pillar for him to pretty much grow up and learn more about himself as he was allowed to be himself. He was able to express himself around them, become vunerable, get told of when he acted out and was shown that what he was doing and how he acted hurt others. While this was happening Alen began to notice that his pact with Crow was making it hard for him to ‘‘grow up’‘ and even though he cared a lot for the fey he would not be able to be their warlock forever. He eventualy met another warlock named Eolas who warned Alen that Crow was manipulating him and that Crow never was his friend and that he’ll never be able to settle down or live peacefuly if he stayed Crows warlock.

Crow being a very possessive being begane to gaslight Alen a lot, trying to put doubt in his mind about his friends, his dreams for the future, and reminding him of their ‘‘good times’‘ Alen became committed to try and change Crow. But became apparent that it would fail during a huge battle in Crows court in the feywilf, the twilight court

Eolas tried to kill Crow along with Crows siblings, Alen defended them, Eolas fell and the fey were very very close to death. This seamed like the turning point for them, proof that the way they were treating their warlocks hurt them a lot and could very easily end up negativly effecting the fey too. Alen pleaded with the fey to change, but they refused, saying they just needed to get a better hold of their warlocks. Alen came to terms with who Crow really was, that they were not his friend and that if this continued other warlocks will get hurt. So Alen killed Crow and the others, to ensure they would not manipulate people like they did to him ever again

Sorry for the essay, but the contex is a little important

The story i’m going to tell though these images is Alens journey in though our dnd game and though relising  he was being abused by his patron. Starting in the contry of Rigel, where Alen felt most at home and happy with a crow flying away, like its crow leading Alen away from his home, and ending in Crows court, where Alen killed his Patron