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nintendo-b1tch · 10 months

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hiya! can i request reactions to a reader/ player humming songs- which they probably shouldn't know [at least in the eyes on the chain, As well as other themes,] like- the ballad of the goddess, or epona's theme. maybe zelda's lullaby. song of storms etc.

I’m making this a series with each person! This one is with Legend!

Hope this is good, I’m not very confident about anything I write!

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

As you began setting up the stage, you couldn't help but notice a group of men nearby. A small smile crept onto your lips, knowing that you would have an audience to share your musical gifts with. Delicately rummaging through your satchel, you retrieved a worn and weathered notebook—a treasure chest of your innermost thoughts and inspirations.

Carefully opening the notebook, your eyes were greeted by a sea of meticulously crafted words and hauntingly beautiful melodies. This notebook held the key to your dreams, capturing every detail and emotion that flickered through your mind. Each song was carefully composed, with melodies that echoed the very essence of your dreams. It was a tangible representation of your imagination and creativity—a cherished possession that held the power to transport you and your band to magical realms.

Last night had been no exception. In the solace of sleep, you had experienced a dream so vivid and extraordinary that it had become the foundation for the song you planned to share with your audience. The dream had woven a tapestry of vibrant colours, intricate plotlines, and ethereal harmonies, all of which you had painstakingly transcribed into the pages of your cherished notebook.

As you sat down, the warm sunlight gently caressed your face, illuminating the words that spilled forth from your pen. With each stroke of the ink, you imbued the song with a piece of your soul, allowing the audience to experience the very essence of your dreams and aspirations. The notebook served as both a conduit and a sanctuary, capturing the delicate balance between reality and imagination that fueled your musical genius.

In this moment, surrounded by the sights and sounds of preparation, you couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude and purpose. The group of men became silent, captivated by the sight of you pouring your heart onto paper.

As you stood amidst the bustling stable, your observant eyes keenly captured the men engrossed in their own individual tasks. Amidst this sea of faces, your gaze effortlessly homed in on a certain man, his presence seemingly emanating a captivating aura. It was in that moment of connection that your eyes ventured towards his unique attribute—a whimsical pink streak, playfully intermingling with his tousled blond locks. A sense of intrigue filled your being, prompting an involuntary smile to grace your lips, which he quickly averted in response.

A tinge of disappointment subtly crept upon you as he shifted his attention elsewhere. However, just as reality began to quell the excitement within you, your dearest friend, Violynne, materialized, her familiar touch landing on your shoulders. A melodic laughter escaped her lips as she delighted in your startled reaction.

" Hello there, dear dreamer! Our setup is now complete, and we eagerly invite you to partake, " she announced, bearing a radiant smile that transported you back to those cherished childhood memories. This endearing nickname had been affectionately bestowed upon you by your mother, recognizing your innate tendency to wander in the realm of dreams. Through your enchanting melodies, which were born from the depths of your slumbering mind, you effortlessly weaved tales that spoke to the hearts of all who listened.

You stepped onto the stage with a smile as you adjusted the hair pin that held your bangs back. The hair pin was a blooming flower, and adjusting your hair pin was a nervous habit. You closed your eyes to listen to the melody your band mates began to play. You slowly swayed to the melody before you began to sing happily.

" Sleepers wake, dreams will fade...

Although we cling fast...

Was it real, what we saw?

I believe... "

Your eyes locked onto the group of men, and you noticed the one with a pink streak in his messy blond hair was extremely tense as you continued to sing.

" Lost in dreams, we sleep on…

Tossing and turning…

Stay with me, by my side

Never leave... "

As you poured your heart into the song you sang, it was evident that this particular melody held a special significance for you. Its origins traced back to the ephemeral realm of dreams, where your subconscious vividly painted a tale of a heroic figure who unwittingly stumbled upon an enigmatic island. This island, as the mysterious whispers revealed, was not a tangible reality but a mere fabrication conjured by an omnipotent deity.

As the narrative of your dream unfolded, you couldn't help but empathize with the protagonist's emotional journey. The pain that he had endured upon discovering that the object of his affection, the girl he had fallen deeply in love with, was naught but a figment of an otherworldly imagination cut deep into your soul. The sheer disappointment and heartache that he must have experienced mirrored your own heartfelt emotions as you belted out the lyrics, punctuating the tender chords strummed by your bandmates.

Together, your collaborative efforts infused every note with an intense and bittersweet melancholy, painting a vivid sonic landscape that encapsulated the essence of the hero's tumultuous odyssey. You moved in perfect synchrony with the music, swaying and letting the rhythm guide your emotions as you embodied the pain and longing that permeated the hero's every breath.

Within this extended rendition of the song, you found solace in the knowledge that your heartfelt performance resonated with the universal human experience of confronting illusions and facing the inevitable moments of disillusionment. The immersive power of music allowed you to capture the essence of the hero's struggle, giving voice to the unspoken depths of his sorrow and regret. With every carefully crafted lyric and expertly executed musical phrase, you sculpted an auditory masterpiece that touched the hearts of all who listened, inviting them to dwell in the nuanced tapestry of emotions that you wove into the very fabric of your performance.

" What if the worst comes?

If someday this sweet reverie ends

We too, our memories, for real

Fade us by... "

Your eyes were intensely fixated on the group of men who seemed to be in a state of desperate flurry; their efforts to comfort the distraught individual with the unmistakable pink streak in his hair were apparent. It was evident from the violent tremors that ran through his body that he was grappling with an overwhelming sense of distress.

Intriguingly, you found yourself making eye contact with one of the men in the group. His eyes spoke volumes, silently pleading for assistance, as it became increasingly clear that their efforts were falling short and they were unable to assuage the inner turmoil of their comrade.

Without a moment's hesitation, you swiftly descended from the stage, propelled by a potent mix of concern and empathy. Though you were unaware of the exact cause of their distress, a resolute determination to lend a helping hand coursed through your veins, urging you forward.

" Excuse me, could I try? " you uttered softly, gently tapping the shoulder of one of the men who had been valiantly striving to bring solace to the troubled hero. Sensing the urgency in your voice, he stepped back, granting you an opportunity to offer your aid. You instinctively pulled the distressed individual into your embrace, guiding his head to rest against the comforting warmth of your chest.

As the haunting melody you had just performed on stage lingered in the air, you slowly resumed singing, the melodic strains weaving their way around the tense atmosphere. With every dulcet note resonating through the space, a sense of tranquility descended, wrapping its soothing tendrils around the agitated man. A tender smile graced your lips, highlighting the genuine affection that emanated from deep within your soul.

Your fingers, seemingly guided by an invisible force, caressed his dishevelled blond locks, gently untangling them with each tender stroke. The delicate touch of your fingertips served as a calming balm, soothing the frayed edges of his distressed spirit.

As you reassured him, " You're okay, you're okay now, alright? " In a gentle and soothing tone, a warm smile slowly formed on your face. Looking into his eyes, you noticed a faint blush appearing on his cheeks, indicating that your comforting words and touch were having an effect on him. He leaned towards your touch, seeking solace and support in your presence, and it melted your heart to witness his vulnerability.

However, it was the heartbreaking mumble that escaped his lips next that truly struck a chord within you.

" Don't leave me too... " The desperation laced in his voice made it clear that he not only craved reassurance in that moment, but he also dreaded the thought of being abandoned or left alone. His fear and vulnerability resonated deeply with you, igniting a sense of empathy within your being.

In response to his plea, tears of empathy welled up in your eyes, but you quickly composed yourself, determined to provide him with the reassurance and support he needed. Your smile softened even further as you leaned in and gently pressed a tender kiss to his forehead, aiming to convey your unwavering presence and commitment to him.

In that simple, intimate gesture, your intention was to assure him that you would never leave him. The gentle warmth that your lips offered to his forehead was a physical manifestation of your emotional connection and promise to stand by his side, even through the darkest of moments.

As the vibrant sun gracefully descended beneath the horizon, casting a warm and gentle glow over the surroundings, you found yourself in a position of comfort and solace. It was in this serene moment that you gently aided the man, now affectionately referred to as Legend, in finding peaceful repose. With utmost tenderness, you supported his head against your thighs, a gesture that invoked a flicker of contentment within your heart. A soft smile adorned your face as your delicate fingers mindfully glided through his silky strands of blond hair. Seemingly lost in the tranquilly of the scene, his hat lay peacefully nearby, a testament to the connection you both shared.

Yet, as your eyes wandered beyond the partnered hush, you couldn't help but notice the penetrating gaze of the other men. Caught off guard by their unspoken curiosity, you broke the silence and sought an explanation for their inquisitive stares.

" What? " you inquired, a hint of puzzlement lacing your voice. Uncertainty lingered as to why the sight of you and Legend together seemed to evoke such intrigue.

One of the men, his countenance adorned with distinctive facial markings, stepped forward, his voice carrying a mix of surprise and intrigue. " It's just, " he began, a hint of awe colouring his words.

" We've come to know Legend as a man who rarely succumbs to the solace of sleep. " This revelation nudged your curiosity towards the forefront, urging you to delve deeper into the intricate layers that made up the enigmatic character that was Legend.

With a thoughtful gaze, you studied his slumbering form, tracing the contours of his face with gentle admiration. It was then that your observations brought forth the telltale signs of weariness etched beneath his eyes, appearing as delicate lines reminiscent of the weight he undoubtedly carried. The realization of his sleep-deprived state deepened your understanding of the complexities woven into the fabric of his being.

A second man, adorned in a tunic blending shades of green and brown, broke the silence, his voice carrying a trace of vulnerability and compassion.

" When he does finally surrender to sleep, " he confessed, a hint of trepidation present in his words, " it often leads him down a path plagued by haunting nightmares. " The gravity of this revelation hung heavy in the air, painting a vivid picture of a man who stood on the precipice of sleep, forever entangled in the clutches of his past.

In that moment, the significance of your presence and the solace you provided to Legend transcended mere comfort. Through your touch and unwavering support, you symbolized a sanctuary from the terrors that beset his slumber. And as you continued to tenderly caress his hair, you understood the profound impact of your actions. You had become the guardian of his blissful reprieve, a silent protector ushering him into the realm of restorative dreams, free from the relentless grip of his haunting nightmares.

" I see... " you mumbled, absorbing the information given by the group. They had just discussed their plans to leave the stable tomorrow, but the mere thought of your companion experiencing a violent breakdown during a nightmare tugged at your heartstrings. It was in that moment that you made a firm decision—you needed to stay by his side.

Unable to bear the thought of him suffering, you mustered up the courage to ask, " Can I come along? I can't stand the thought of him enduring pain alone. Please, allow me to join. I may not have experience using a sword, but I have received some basic self-defence training. " As you glanced around the room, your eyes fixated on the swords that were positioned beside each of the men. Their presence intimidated you, yet your determination outweighed any fear.

After a brief pause, one of the men responded, " Well, if you're willing to fight the monsters we encounter on this journey, then sure, you can come with us. "

Relieved by their acceptance, a smile formed on your lips. However, curiosity got the best of you, and you couldn't help but inquire about their names. It was then that Time took the initiative to introduce the group, pointing to each man as he spoke. " You can call me Time. This is Sky, " he gestured towards a man with a cloak and green tunic " Wild, also known as Chef, " he continued, indicating a man who had a blue tunic and ponytail. " Four, or Smith, " Time pointed to yet another member, whose steady gaze exuded a sense of reliability. " Hyrule, or Rulie, " he said, motioning to a man with a brown and green tunic. " Twilight, or Rancher, " Time indicated a figure with a mysterious aura. " Warriors, sometimes referred to as Captain, this is Wind or Sailor " he spoke of a man who emanated authority with a flowing blue scarf and a teen with a blue shirt. Finally, he revealed the man you were holding onto, saying, " And the one you're holding is Legend, though many call him Veteran. "

As the names of these individuals echoed in your mind, you began to piece together the diverse group before you. Each name held significance, representing facets of their personalities and strengths. It was clear that you had joined a band of resilient warriors, ready to face the perils that awaited them on their journey.

With a smile and your heart brimming with anticipation, you eagerly embraced the upcoming adventure. The anticipation was almost palpable in the air. But as excitement engulfed you, your joyous mood was abruptly interrupted when Warriors unexpectedly clasped onto your arm and forcibly guided you towards the stable. The suddenness of this action caught you off guard, resulting in a surprised squeak escaping from your lips.

" Wa-Wait! What about Legend!? " You blurted out, your voice filled with concern, as you were whisked away into the stable against your will.

Inside the stable, as Warriors began examining your attire and diligently taking measurements, you were left puzzled by his actions. What was he doing? Why did he seem so focused on your outfit? These questions swirled around your mind, only adding to your confusion.

" Since you are joining our ranks, wearing a dress simply won't do. Your movements must be unhindered, and you must be prepared for combat at all times, " Warriors explained earnestly, his voice carrying a touch of authority. His words resonated with you, triggering a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. As your mind raced to grasp this sudden change in attire, Warriors assured you that your new outfit would be ready by the following day.

With these words ringing in your ears, you swiftly made your way back to Legend, who lay anxiously in the designated area. His distressed state was evident as he trembled, tossed, and turned, desperately reaching out for your presence. It tore at your heartstrings to witness his unease.

Determined to soothe his worries, you hurriedly approached and embraced him. His trembling arms clung tightly to your waist, seeking comfort and reassurance. As his head nestled against your stomach, his once-tense body gradually relaxed, surrendering to the familiarity of your touch. A genuine smile delicately crept upon your lips as you pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, ensuring him of your undying devotion.

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murfpersonalblog · 2 years

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The Vampire Lestat & Sir Percy Blakeney: Most Genius & Manly of Himbos

I want to discuss the "babygirl" discourse around Lestat's yaasification, and notions that he's the "woman/wife/mother" in Loustat's household.

YES, Sam Reid has been serving nothing but Charisma Uniqueness Nerve and Talent, but I think his play on gender norms has confused people into thinking he's playing into Lestat's femininity, when actually, I think Sam's playing up Lestat's masculinity instead.

But it's a VERY particular type of masculinity, that clashes with modern norms and tastes and perceptions/assumptions.

And it only recently struck me that the vampire Lestat AND Sir Percy Blakeney (AKA the Scarlet Pimpernel) have A LOT in common: They're both foppish prissy buffoons who are tougher than they look and seem a LOT dumber than they actually are--and it's INTENTIONAL.

Because Lestat and Sir Percy Blakeney lived during the French Revolution. The Rococo hellscape of extravagant hedonistic opulence, that caused the fall of the monarchy & rise of the nouveau riche & middle classes. They came at the Revolution from opposite sides--Lestat de Lioncourt as a penniless marquis' son forced to hunt for his own food or starve, and Sir Percy Blakeney as an English elite sympathizer & spy for the French monarchy. That environment heavily colored both of their outlooks on life and interactions with others.

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Aesthetics were everything--don't get Lestat started on the Savage Garden!--and a man's whole reputation and life could be ruined by his public image alone. Outdated clothes at court!? Scandalous!

Society's fashions & tastes change. The wigs, high heels, lace, makeup, limp wrists, prancing walks, small waists, shapely calves--all the Old World beauty standards now associated with women actually used to be applied to men. Manly men!

As overdone and effeminate as they might seem to modern audiences, in the 1700s, that kind of man was considered HOT--the very pinnacle of fashion, taste and breeding.

Ladies wanted to be with them, and men wanted to BE them--the nouveau riche, social climbers, middle class, etc--this was the model.

How society's double standards affect the class/race/gender dynamics between Loustat are absolutely feral. Despite how silly Lestat looked in his clothes, this fish out of water with his weird foreign talk and obnoxious behavior, Lestat EASILY "emasculated" Louis, the established & respected tough local pimp (and we would see over & over how effortlessly he could one-up Louis, especially in Ep5 when he came out of that fight without a scratch).

EFF his snatched waist, sassy hands, and long hair--this MAN was on DEMON TIME. Sam said that AMC put Lestat in a whole Matador-inspired villain outfit. Now, I don't know anything about Spanish bullslaying, but one cursory search on Jstor had all kinds of interesting things to say:

Douglass, Carrie B. “‘toro Muerto, Vaca Es’: An Interpretation of the Spanish Bullfight.” American Ethnologist 11, no. 2 (1984): 242–58. http://www.jstor.org/stable/643849.

And Louis definitely saw red and was charging at him like a bull--and Lestat nearly killed him for it.

So y'all tell me who the MAN is in this relationship. 👀 Lestat didn't become his MOTHER, he became HIS FATHER. (Louis is the one who's similar to Gabrielle!)

Lestat's money & class is telling, too. But what's ironic is that although Lestat appears Old Money to everyone (as his inheritance from Magnus was VERY old, and bottomless), he's actually nouveau riche--LOUIS was the silver spoon Old Money elite, with the DPDL estate (inherited from his white ancestors' French colonial slavery & plantations in NOLA). But Lestat was called the Wolf Killer, cuz he hunted wolves & saved his broke family from starving (and his village from wolf attacks).

Lestat was SO cocky after his hunt, prancing around town in his wolf furs like little Lord Fauntleroy, PRINCE LESTAT, like the kind of aristocrat he wished he was, the kind his birthright would've afforded him, if only his broke AF FATHER could've afforded it (and Prince Lestat eventually renovated his father's Chateau for the vampire court). His beautiful braggadocio/machismo was what attracted the vampire Magnus to Lestat, and made him a worthy candidate for immortality. Likewise, Lestat's brazen & BALLSY antics were what attracted Akasha to Lestat in QotD, too.

"Lestat, if all the world were destroyed, I would not destroy you," [Akasha] said. "Your limitations are as radiant as your virtues for reasons I don't understand myself. But more truly perhaps, I love you because you are so perfectly what is wrong with all things male. Aggressive, full of hate and recklessness, and endlessly eloquent excuses for violence-you are the essence of masculinity; and there is a gorgeous quality to such purity. But only because it can now be controlled." "By you." "Yes, my darling. This is what I was born for. This is why I am here. And it does not matter if no one ratifies my purpose. I shall make it so. Right now the world burns with masculine fire; it is a conflagration. But when that is corrected, your fire shall burn ever more brightly-as a torch burns."

For Akasha (and Anne Rice lbr), Lestat represented the epitome--the essence--of (toxic) MASCULINITY. The same vain, supercilious, foppish dandy obsessed with his hair and nails and purple sunglasses, always going on and on about James Dean & Marlon Brando, etc etc--is still a MAN.

He's the silliest creature ever, and he REVELS in it, because he knows good and dang well that he's the most dangerous one in the room. Whatever he wanted, he took, and fought for, controlled & dominated, come hell or high water.

Sure, he burns brightly, with effervescent light; but he's also the thing that goes bump in the night, lurking in the shadows, hiding his TRUE nature, his real face.

And we see that darkness, that ugly mean streak, as soon as Lestat and Percy feel they've been betrayed & feel their most vulnerable.

On a DIME, this man can go from being a silly, vapid clown, to a cold and calculated evil genius, playing 4D chess with the best of them. And the best trick is that because Lestat & Percy are both the protagonists/heroes of their stories, we'll clap and cheer and hope that they triumph, all while making a thousand excuses for their red flags--the matador wins again!

But what are Lestat & Percy REALLY fighting for & protecting? The rights of vampires to be effing serial killers? The rights of the parasitic monarchy/rich to leech off the poor? Don't let the pretty smiles & fun personalities fool you--they're inherently KILLERS--apex predators, hunters, and aggressively male--gay or straight, butch or femme, he wants to emasculate, dominate, penetrate, and humiliate.

The Scarlet Pimpernel is still an assassin, and Lestat is still a vampire. The patriarchal layers run deep, but their supposed "girliness" is just on the surface; it's due to the time period they both grew up in, and the aesthetic ideals of the elite during the 1700s--a time when manly men were A LOT more effeminate than what we'd expect today. But underneath that cultured veneer, they're still dangerous animals. The whole point of gothic literature Anne Rice's book emulated is that it confronts that duality head on, to consider the underlying nature of MAN's beast within. That's what makes Lestat so interesting--because you know there's sooo much more going on.

#lestat de lioncourt #the vampire lestat #the scarlet pimpernel #gender inequality #loustat #fashion history #operation matador #iwtv tvc metas

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worldwide-simp · 1 year

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Here, take some of my writing from when I was brain dead // Yandere Scp x reader

military au

The last shot

not edited Warnings: swearing, graphic descriptions of violence, mention of death “Open fire!” Clef commanded, a barrage of bullets releasing on the word, piercing repeatedly through the invaders skin, flesh and bone.

Blood painted the ground a beautiful red as bodies decorated it like a woven tapestry. He clipped on the safety feature back onto his own double barrel shotgun, thinking to himself how life would be so much easier if it didn’t exist.

“I hate my job.” He mumbled, swiping the flecks of red off his face, accidentally smudging it even further in. A rapid fire of quiet curses were released to vent his growing frustration. The dirt under him crunched as he made the slightest of movement.

Kicking at an arm of a fallen enemy soldier, Clef glowered down at them, remembering the time that their bullets pierced his own skin. The difference was that he didn’t fucking die.

“Commander!” A soldier in training shouted to him, the distance between them blurring their words. Nevertheless, he heard it loud and clear, being a sort of mantra that repeated everyday and became his apparent sixth sense.

“What.” His tension filled voice amated the soldier as they closed the large distance between them, standing two metres away. A respectable distance.

“Have- have you not heard the radio..?” They stuttered slightly, shifting their feet below them. Clef’s expression became one of curiousity and believe it or not, apprehension.

“No, genius, mine was blown up.” His gruff voice breathed out, annoyance lacing it like fine poison. As he moved to place his full attention on the soldier, his blond neck-length hair ruffled with the slight breeze and the shorter strands rested on his face.

“Well- um, someone on our squad got shot.” Clef whipped his head to them, eyes widening in shock. If he wasn’t surprised before, he was now.

“Who?!” He demanded, pointing a finger towards them. They spluttered, overwhelmed with the sudden burst of energy from their normally stoic but eccentric commander.

“I don’t know! I just heard about it, they refused to elaborate on whether they are dead or alive.” Clef was extremely confused. Why wouldn’t they say anything about it if someone was injured? They would of had to be immediately taken to Y/N (assuming that they were alive).

“Have you not checked on who is missing?” He snapped, pulling at his hair as a coping mechanism, and it was certainly a painful one. The soldier winced when blood trickled from his scalp.

Clef stopped his erratic tugging and beckoned the soldier to follow, stamping on the bodies of the fallen as a sign of disrespect.

The rest of his awaiting squadron were already on their tanks, preparing the last of the equipment when they arrived, Clef dashing at immense speed while the soldier behind him struggled immensely, chest heaving in shortness of breath.

“Does anyone have any fucking information on that injured member?” Clef inquired, slipping into the entrance, his voice echoing through the tank. Dimitri nodded, answering the question that Clef wanted so desperately answered.

“He is fine, Y/N retrieved him, had a talk with them and it appears that he is in stable condition, it was a shot to the leg, but still something to be concerned about. It is apparent that he won’t step foot in military ground for quite some time.” He answered, Dimitri’s voice a steady calm, his Russian accent slipping through.

Clef nodded in silent thanks, heart rate becoming steady once again. Honestly, the thing he was most worried about was the fact another casualty would’ve slipped under his belt and become another ornament that he had failed his squadron once again.

Even with his seemingly uncaring attitude, Clef valued each and every soldier like a rare gem, their uniqueness shining through and defining their personality. He would never admit that if someone asked him.

The rumbling of hard ground against sturdy tires snapped him out of his delusional thoughts, and he peered out of the small hatch that was the only source of natural light and view (not counting the scope connected to the roof).

A broken static resounded through one of the radios that so happened to be connected to Dimitri. He looked at it for a few seconds before turning the comm on and increasing the volume.

“This is Y/N speaking, for your peace of mind, be assured that Gerald is doing well.” Your voice broke through the tension filled silence, just the fact that you spoke made their hearts fill with warmth.

Clef turned towards the mic, staring at Dimitri expectantly. Dimitri in question glanced up, feeling the gaze of Alto Clef piercing his radio.

“Dimitri, could I talk to them.” He asked, well more so demanded, his attitude turning a 180. A slight creaking of the hull was ignored, the silence tense once again.

“Take it.” He said, glowering towards Clef. Throwing it with a steady hand harshly towards him, Clef caught it with expected ease.

“My my, jealous, Dimitri?” Clef taunted, cooing in a mockingly soft tone. The soldier that had hopped aboard watched the spectacle unfold, waiting for a bloodbath to commence, whispering in the mic that so happened to have you on the other end.

Dimitri glared daggers, but said nothing more. Clef was quite the nasty person when it came to the concerns of you, maybe because you were the only person he trusted in the hellhole, two years was quite the amount of time to know someone. But there were always secrets that could be hidden with a mask and nothing more.

He clipped on the mic, the quiet, unnoticeable conversation between you and Iris was put on a standstill as he switched on comms, a gentle clicking sound indicated it was successful.

“Hello!” You spoke, uncertainty in your tone as the background noise of scissors snapping roughly through flesh and the words of gentle reconciliation reverberated, giving the illusion that it was louder that it actually was.

“Hey Y/N, how are you and Gerald?” Clef smiled, his heart racing through a full F1 track. You paused, though the cutting of flesh resumed, making up for the lack of communication.

“I’m fine, thanks for asking, I think Gerald is the one you should be more concerned about.” You jabbed.

He laughed, it was a bit forced but what wasn’t anyways.

“I believe I also asked about the well-being of Gerald, am I wrong?” In Clef’s mind, he believed you were starting a light-hearted banter, and it was like that, just with the aftermath of atmosphere tension, similar to the fragility of string. When it is woven, drawn taunt and held straight, it turns sharp (not literally).

“Nothing nothing, you don’t understand. Now get over here and we can talk.” You hummed, the shuffling of metal equipment heard and you mumbled something under your breath.

part 1 of 3

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heart-sized · 1 year

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chapter one, flowers for you, s. snape

★⺌◞ : severus snape x f! professor reader

cw : slight age gap, mention of possessiveness and jealousy, none else that i know of

a/n ; lmao i remember writing this long assed fic last year might as well post it + au where there is no voldy & lily potter is alive

other chapters : prologue

masterlist // taglist

“you seriously cannot expect me to go to hogwarts!” you fling your hands in the air, staring in disbelief at your parents who very much expect you to do the same.

“i cannot see why you've so much problem going there,” your mother argues, “it was your dad's, mine, your sister's alma mater.”

but not mine. you want to say.

“i have my whole life here, ma,” you rub your forehead and look at your dad, “i have a good job here, a stable job. what chances are there that i will get the same stability at hogwarts?”

“you're not a nobody!” your mother and former gryffindor urges, “surely you don't possess the wizardry gene, but your father was a professor there. your sister and i were star quidditch players. there's no chance they'll not provide you the same stability.”

ouch. that was rude. it is not as if you yourself have removed the wizardry gene from your dna. tears threaten to bubble out from your eyes.

“darling, shh,” your dad intervened, “talk to her softly. why are you yelling at her? y/n, dear, listen to me. the only reason why i am asking you to start hogwarts as a professor is because everyone keeps on wondering why i have secluded my middle child from that world.”

not secluded, dad. you were never a part of that world.

“and also,” he points towards your eleven years old brother who is busy playing his video game, “your brother is starting hogwarts soon. it will give me a sense of surety that his sister will be there to protect him. do it for our sake, please?”

it is hard for you to say no to your dad. even he knows that. so even though every part of your body wants to refuse, you let out a small nod and the beaming smile on your dad's face makes you feel a little better.

“thank you, my child.” he pats your head lightly.

you, the middle child, the only muggle child in your family, make your way towards your room, softly stopping to stare at the family pictures. your father, kiann l/n is a proud gryffindor, who later became the professor of defense against dark arts in hogwarts, retiring only when you didn't get your appointment letter from the school of witchcraft and wizardry. your mother, sierra l/n, was also a gryffindor and a star quidditch player, a few years junior to your father. they had married a few years after he had graduated. and your sister? sara l/n was a ravenclaw, a genius student and a star quidditch player. you remember how the dining table talk would be full of her achievements back in her hogwarts days. and your brother, the youngest one in the family, kyrus l/n, just received his appointment letter a few days ago.

in short, you are the only one to disappoint your family. the muggle disappointment.

in fact, you don't hate your dad for asking you to fill up as the new hogwarts professor. the wizardry world is in fact curious about you. but what they don't know is that you are no one special. just a normal human girl whose life would have been dozens of times better if only the wizardry world doesn't exist.

according to your parents, you would leave for hogwarts the next day with your brother. so you make up your mind to pack your bags at night while at the present moment, you decide to visit your friends.

oh and what excuse could you even give them for your prolonged absence? oh, forgive me you all but i cannot meet you again because i have to teach in a wizardry cult of school in a wizardry world because everyone in my family is a wizard except for me? no thanks.

you find your mother cooking in the kitchen and decide to ignore her and make your way towards the door.

“y/n?”

oops. you turn to see your mother. “i am sorry, my child,” her eyes are soft, as if she had cried, “i didn't mean to be so hard on you.”

“i know, ma,” you attempt to smile, “you didn't mean to be hard on me. you just reminded me of how different i am from the rest of you.”

“what?” to say your best friend is shocked would be an understatement. her eyes are wide open as she stares at you. “we cannot meet for a few months? a few months? what kind of cult are you joining?”

you laugh and take your sweet moment sipping on your lemon juice while your best friend waits impatiently. “it's not a cult, sophie. it's my parents' alma mater and it is a super strict, boring kind of boarding school.”

“i will miss you!” the redhead pouts. “did you tell dylan about it?”

you pause. dylan was your coworker in the company that you worked at and you had gone on a few dates together. but it was not anything serious. “no, i haven't. honestly i don't want it to be known by anyone except for you and obviously, micah. hey, where is micah even, by the way?”

“i don't know?” sophie furrows her eyebrows and looks around. “he had said that he'd be here on time.”

“trust him to be late even today,” you scoff.

“two roses,” a hand holding two roses comes in your view, “for the two most beautiful ladies in the world.”

“micah!” both sophie and you speak simultaneously and the said guy sits down beside sophie with a smirk.

“so i have heard that you're joining a cult, y/n?” he asks, sipping on sophie's chai without her permission. “what extent are you going to go just to please your parents?”

“it's not a cult, micah!” you roll your eyes, “and i am not doing it to please my parents.” liar. “i'm doing it because it's expected of me to do.”

“same thing.”

“can we not argue today?” sophie butts in, her eyes pleading. “it's y/n's last day with us, at least, for a few months. let's make it a memorable one. what do you guys say?”

and boy is it memorable. you enjoy each and every part of it, from playing at the swings to sliding from the slider and to the movies. for you knew that the next few months are going to be hard for you. very hard.

“just so you know, i love you guys a lot,” you even sob a bit. the public declaration of love is something so not you, but you feel like a little scared kid who knows that you are going to be away from the people you loved for a long time. and when they hug you back, you realis that you haven't cherished your friendships the way you should have. even micah's.

and when you lie down in bed that night to sleep, you ponder over micah's words. was he not right? what more extent would you go just to please her parents? just to not be a disappointment anymore?

the next day is spent in a jiffy and the next thing you know, you are standing at the 9½ station, holding your brother's hand. your dad is there to see you off and as he kissed your foreheads, you sigh. it is worth it. everything is worth it just to see him happy. even going to some stupid school of witchcraft and wizardry and teaching those stupid students. you can do that all just to see that smile on your dad's face.

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nico-esoterica · 7 months

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The Pluto in Aqua Survival Guide For Millennials and Gen Z 🚀

Part 1: Pluto through the Houses (Below) | Part 2: How The Generations Will Be Affected + Advice // Long Post Ahead++ If you’re reading this in February 2024, Pluto hasn’t officially transited into Aquarius yet but it WILL spend most of the year in it. This is giving the same vibes as 2008, the year of the US recession and subsequent global economic crash—but was, interestingly enough, when Pluto previewed Capricorn. It wasn’t exactly stable yet carried a smorgasbord of influence. In the 5 months and 2 and a half weeks it spent in the water goat’s sign, billions of charts were affected in ways we’re still studying to this day. So I consider this ‘preview’ worth studying as well because history can be cyclical.

But I think a doom and gloom perspective is redundant. We’re used to hearing how we can’t do something or how insurmountable the odds are because we typically associate Saturn with austerity. ‘The economy’s down’, ‘we can’t afford this,’ ‘climate change is worsening by the day,’ ‘10 tips to stop yourself from doom scrolling,’ including whatever well-meaning anxieties your parents reminded you of this week while you’re panicking over whether or not your Uber Eats tip is going to overdraft your account. Where Aquarius differs from Capricorn is that it prefers not to compromise its ideals over its survival. The latter are like the Millennials who project their neatly compartmentalized boomer inflicted trauma onto their subordinates because they’re from a generation where Uranus and Neptune’s dreams of job security on the horizon became lofty and farfetched by the recession. It hit when those born from the mid 80s to mid 90s would’ve been entering middle school or finishing university by that time (11-23yo). That means that those on the cusp of adolescence and at the beginning of our stages of realization in early adulthood weren’t catapulting into the abundance promised if they ‘worked hard enough’ but straight into an echoless void. But under Pluto in Aquarius, we can expect hopefuls to pick up the debris left strewn on the ground from the failed system and repurpose familiar ideas into more promising and sustainable fabric. If we think of the typical Aquarius, they’re usually a person who had to adapt to a negligent environment using a unique form of genius which subsequently separated them from the rest. They’re shrewd and strategic and have a sixth sense for building their world view around what makes sense to them—even if they’re the odd ones out yet again. Because what they don’t tell you about the water bearer is that no matter how embittered it becomes, somewhere under the weeds of the pain and disappointment its grown to expect, there’s an idealistic child selfishly clinging to hope—they’re lovers masking as misanthropes. That’s why Leo, ruled by the Sun, is its sibling. Through its opposition, we learn to always keep our standards for ourselves and the world around us sky high. If the system benefits from us underestimating ourselves, we must invest in shameless self belief.

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Dates are a rough estimate and will hypothesize what Pluto in Aqua (and other slow moving transits) have in store for those born between 1984-2007. Pluto in Aqua (themes): Recycle/Upcycle, Renew, Radicalize, Reject Key: • Saturn = Consolidation and attitudes towards structure and foundation (how they systemize/structure themselves esp when they need help or avoid it) • Uranus = Innovation and drastic sudden changes personally/circumstantially • Neptune = Personal zeitgeist and attitudes towards social trends and moods which deal with the topic of that house • Pluto = Aggrandizement of power, resources, and gains and losses of scale through the process of (slow and deeply sewn or festering) upheaval/uprooting, death, decay of the topics of the house it occupies, catalyst(s) for personal transformation Aries 1H: (Pluto in 11H) - friend groups, networks, the internet, and community service, (theory—ruler = social capital and clout) —Expansion (or) creation of friend groups and networks who share what matters most to you and finding community support amongst an unexpected group of people who’ll radically change your mindset. You may go through a period where everyone seems to ‘fall off’ right before you find the right people (they’ll probably be outliers or unique). Industry wise, this can mean being more tapped into what’s next tech and internet wise especially if you have placements here. Some of you may go off the grid entirely and live in a co-op in the woods/mountains to be honest.

But you and Gemini Risings need to watch Midsommar twice at the least. But this transit will also put many of you in places of leadership. You’re going to become the main protagonists in these tribes or circles of new ideas, especially with Uranus trining from your 3rd and Neptune creating a blazing soul fire in your 1st. Since Jupiter generally joys in the 11th, that Pluto/Neptune on your 11/1 feels like many of you may adopt a belief system or reject the notion of mainstream spirituality entirely for something more grounded and personal to you. Just be mindful of ideological rabbit holes and potentially isolating yourselves by accident. Taurus 1H: (Pluto in 10H) - social status/public image and career direction and its honors and great achievements, bosses and people in high positions of power, public recognition (and the pursuit of it) —Thought leader and People’s Champ—See what’s happening with Megan Thee Stallion where the entire internet shifted to support her after years of bullying and targeted harassment (she’s a Taurus Asc). The ambitious will benefit heavily from this transit while the unambitious (but who want to live well) will gain attention, credibility, and opportunity for surviving all this time, esp if you’re marginalized w/ a platform (if you don’t have one, get one NOW). People will uplift you for the more authentic you are.

But you’re going to have to learn to accept that others will see the greatness in you that you’ve been afraid of believing all along. With Uranus moving through your 2nd and Neptune in your 12th, you’re going to feel like you finally have autonomy with your finances and life path. But it’s going to call for you being comfortable with advocating for yourselves and setting clear boundaries because the former outers in Aqua hitting your 1st from your 10th can mean you spent a period being disrespected and feeling adrift by male or authority figures and it leading to you questioning yourself and your life potential. You’re used to people not believing in you—but the tables have turned. Stand on top of the business of yourself. Gemini 1H: (Pluto in 9H) - higher education, government, long distance travel and foreign culture, and organized religion and traditionally taught spirituality, politics, and publishing (large scale, corporate), teaching —Many of you may drop out of school (or find niched but polarizing niches within it), travel the world permanently, or may be radicalized by spirituality, politics, or education in a very BIG way that’ll be unique to this era. Please avoid Scientology and cults like the plague (or starting them) because there’ll be a strong ‘itch’ to find a sense of purpose w/ this transit. Because it’s so deep and aggrandizing, you’re going to feel like your entire life revolves around something larger than yourself and while this is a GOOD thing, you can get lost if you don’t have an internal compass.

The answers are within YOU, not something else. But this will be a very big ‘finding yourself’ transit to get to that conclusion. Similar to my advice to Aries Risings, these outers are hitting major identity shifting houses for you—The difference with you, Gemini, is that your ideals will be more solid but your concept of ‘yourself’ will undergo several transformations which will compliment your politics. Your framework for life will experience a new barrage of ‘what ifs’ and the current way you think will not be the same as it was a week, a year, ten years, 20 years into the future. You love change but with Uranus squaring a Pisces MC for some of you (or planets there), it’s important that you remember who you are versus what the world may want from you. Don’t get lost in the sauce. Cancer 1H: (Pluto in 8H) - shared resources and boundaries, inherited trauma and family karma [5th from the 8th] (and material inheritance) and trauma cycles, and coping mechanisms, shame and denial, loans/taxes, supernatural experiences, death, and the occult, sexual entanglement and taboo —You’ve already had three outer planets run amok in here and this will be the continuation of what Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune have prepped you for. Having terrible boundaries (too thick or thin) and other people’s baggage you feel like you have to shoulder or inherit is not gonna be it this time around. But the theme of this for some of you will be a HUGE taking-back-your-power-from-other-people era.

It’s taking ownership of something in your life that others thought they were entitled to. But it usually comes with a molting, shedding, and releasing process. This period can also be about transmuting grief, shame, or guilt into power. Others may fall down the rabbit hole of metaphysics (esp via NDE, astral travel, etc) and there’ll be a pocket who’ll (this sounds wacked but ima say it) experience alien contact and communication due to Uranus/Pluto being in air signs in psychic houses for you. But oof—The era of the people pleasing because people made you think being assertive is a ‘bad’ thing is over. Leo 1H: (Pluto in 7H) - contracts, serious relationships and marriages, relationship dynamics and what is projected onto you and from you, enemies you know —Similar to Cancer Risings, you’re used to having your boundaries compromised because conditioning taught you not to have them (or to make them steep). During this next cycle, your rebellion and rejection of what’s expected from you in your relationships will most likely send you down several rabbit holes where you experiment with different relationship styles and there’ll be a sense of ‘anarchy’ to everything.

Uranus transiting your 10H has been amplifying this already so you’re at the point now where you’re too far gone to appease and bow out like usual. But you’re also committed to radically setting boundaries now or letting them dissolve—if you’re ready for it. If not, Pluto transiting here can create spores of abandonment issues to infect relationships if the core causes aren’t uprooted—but having any natal Aqua placements will provide clues to learn what’s there. Being vulnerable and intimate means letting people know what hurts, where it hurts, and how they can care for you to accommodate it. Virgo 1H: (Pluto in 6H) - service industry, day jobs and short-term employment and trends with employment, overall job market and how you fit within it, work ethic, everyday health and routines (and health concerns), and pets (small domesticated animals) —You are so DONE with the way you’ve been treated or felt ‘afloat’ with your everyday life over the past several years (and longer). With Uranus about to transit your 10H for a while with Neptune in your 8H are going to push you (externally and internally) to take charge of your life in a way you can control. You’re very good at following orders because it’s sensible but suck at taking charge because honestly?

Neptune transiting your 7th for so long gives me the impression that you have a hard time saying ‘No’ when people need things from you. For the contrarians in the audience, relax—It just means your environment taught you to placate it. But life path wise, or just for right now, Pluto will force you to take your dreams and goals more seriously by thrusting you into situations where you’ll feel like you’re being called to act on your deep soul urges at last. Especially with the North Node transiting here in a few years—You’re going to know you’re doing what’s ‘right’ for you if it feels like you can finally be yourself. Libra 1H: (Pluto in 5H) - pleasure and recreation, the arts (esp those which feed the inner child), children, and more serious hobbies or deeply felt/consistent ones (passions), romanticism/addictions/vices which become necessary for recreation or to feel creative inspiration, what inspires you and how deeply it hits/affects —In a professional or creative sense, you’re about to tap into some serious inner child healing where you take those years you’ve neglected the more artistic part of yourself and devote yourself to nurturing it (at last). Relationship wise, many of you will be reconsidering having children later on than you originally planned because you value stability. Others will be abandoning it all together.

This will also be a period, calling it now, where a good portion of you will be more open to polyamory if you weren’t already. In a non-romantic sense, you’re going to be more interested in non-hierarchal and more communal relationship dynamics where your world has the robust support system you needed as a child. The focus overall will be finding sustainable ways to repair the damage/trauma you most likely experienced from having Pluto in Capricorn hit your angles for so long, especially for cardinal signs. But it’ll feel strange and even dizzying at first—You’re not used to shamelessly choosing yourself and your inner world and desires therein. Get comfortable by letting people be uncomfortable with this shift. Scorpio 1H: (Pluto in 4H) - family and origin, family secrets and history, bought and inherited real estate/material wealth, one’s sense of security and privacy and the private self, family legacy and drama, roots and family patterns and obligations and how we react to them —There’s some childhood wounds that need to properly scab over that you’ve been picking at for the last several years or more since Saturn entered its home signs and conjoined Pluto. Not all of you have family problems, but the other three outers transiting here lets me know that the concept of ‘safety’ will be a sensitive topic. Did you feel completely supported? Did you experience neglect? Were there issues with boundaries?

Gen Z/illennials with outer planets here will not be able to skirt around facing their core issue of fearing being vulnerable. Uranus in Gemini trining this house from your 8H will expedite this after it’s done squaring it from Taurus in your 7th—which just made things more awkward and chaotic than better. This house also dealing with family legacy with Pluto here may present…unexpected rewards for your suffering that were long overdue. Material rewards and those that can only be measured with the heart. You will be gaining this time instead of losing. Sagittarius 1H: (Pluto in 3H) - early childhood experiences, siblings, neighborhood and local community affairs, communication and publishing (written and digital—usually small scale), everyday rituals and hobbies, creature comforts which are ritualized, short distance travels, habits which are taught or gained/inspired, mundane everyday activity or obligation and how you feel about it/go about it —With Pluto leaving your 2H, you’re experiencing a titanic-level mindset shift. Depending on the rest of your chart, what you can anticipate is that your everyday life will carry a new level of intensity. Everything will have additional weight and purpose. But your well-being is moving out of a place of operating out of constant survival-mode to prioritizing what you think about what your life ought to look like.

Pluto transiting from your 12H to your 3H, depending on your age, means that the underpinning of your life has revolved around what your role is within a conglomerate of people where the focus isn’t on you but what you can contribute or you acting out in defiance of that or having an existential fear, that’s usually impressed on you by a parent, of losing control. With the outers beaming from your 5th and 7th, this is going to be about you going back to the beginning—what makes you genuinely happy? What makes you feel good? Who do you like having around you? Who’s important and why? It’ll feel like learning to walk again and rediscovering your core interests, passions, and love styles but without worrying about who you’re performing for. Because fuck them. Kindly and unkindly. Capricorn 1H: (Pluto in 2H) - personal resources and finance, attitudes about material security and said resources, the different ways in which material comfort can ground us and reflect in what makes us feel the most secure in our lives on a day to day basis, love of the material and/or fear of it, conditioned attitudes about money —You’re in a unique position where you’re going to begin valuing yourself outside of what you can tangibly provide—and for you this is a big deal because that’s how you’ve perceived yourself until now. Pluto settling in your 2nd means that for some of you, your ideas will become your black card (your perspective on the outside looking in or the inverse) and any community you tap into will provide you with its resources.

For others, you’ll be experiencing ego deaths where you’ll either want to detach from the system entirely and start growing your own food, sourcing your own materials, etc, anything to make you into the resource instead while the opposing camp will turn their corporate trauma into winning underdog success with new industries (and opportunities) that’ll open up. There’s going to be a death somewhere with all parties involved regarding how you see yourself. It won’t be about what you can do for the world but how it will pivot to work for you. But it requires a perspective shift—Are you ready to kill off the part of yourself who’s been taught wind, storm, and turmoil are required to live a comfortable life? Haven’t you suffered enough? Aquarius 1H: (Pluto in 1H) - vitality and life force, core identity, the lens you see your life through (esp w/ planets here), how others see us and how we present ourselves consciously and unconsciously, appearance/style, the circumstances life brought you into and themes which play out around it (has more to do w/ parents and family dynamics) —You’ve been a lone wolf for a hot minute now—With so many outers hitting your angles for decades, you’ve found a bit of schadenfreude in the world waking up and realizing how fucked up everything’s been. But in a strange turn of events, said world’s now standing awkwardly on your doorstep, especially for those w/ other placements in Aquarius. You’re being recognized and vindicated for what’s been denied to you.

But if you’ve been sabotaging all this time, you may take any life or behavior adjustments you’ve felt prompted to make as an invitation for more rejection and ridicule. Because Pluto’s going to energize any generational planets you have here (or have transited), all of your actions have radical potential—but it’ll be up to you to decide if they’ll aid or hinder you. If they’re moving you forward (w/ Neptune in Aries hitting your 3rd), you’ll be able to transmute your self-consciousness of feeling othered into self-actualized power. If not, you’ll truly be rebels without a cause—feeling more lost than ever before. Especially for those of you w/ Scorpio placements. Pisces 1H: (Pluto in 12H) - what’s hidden from us and the unseen (including enemies), the unconscious, hospitals/mental institutions/jails and hidden but very present structures of life, isolation and sanctuary, foreign lands, spirituality, sabbaticals, unconscious wounds, where we undo ourselves, large animals, circumstances before birth which affect the native in unseen ways or were present —You have the opportunity to set things right but it’s going to require you do a little forgive and forgetting, wiping the slate clean, or whatever necessary to heal the wounds of alienation and scrutiny many of you have experienced w/ the Aquarius outers transiting and/or occupying your 12th. Because this is the house of self-undoing and unearthed psychic trauma, there’s a lot you’ve been processing. Many of you have a bad habit of wearing your wounds without tending to them properly or detaching and letting them fester in private—And the first new and full moons in Aqua over the next several years will help you realize just how debilitating that’s been. You don’t know who you are unless you’re impaling yourself on something–because deep down, you may find suffering to be necessary or it gives you purpose.

But your 12H in Aqua being hit with transformative Pluto is going to make you aware of how much this cycle is the result of you being emotionally neglected in some way, shape, or form. Especially for those with personal or generational Aquarius planets, it means that you found refuge in alienation and being on the outside looking in. But Pluto here can operate as a catalyst for rich and profound spiritual and emotional growth. But this planet here is double edged—Either you’re going to learn that you have an identity outside of the outsider or you’ll let it push you further into the void of detaching and expecting the worst because the worst is what you’ve always had to endure. Don’t do this anymore.

#astrology #pluto in aquarius #pluto through the houses #astrology transits #millennials #gen z

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o-wyrmlight · 2 years

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Hello, folks! Apparently I was aware of this before but just completely forgot about it somehow, so I'm putting this out here also:

The perspective that Dark Cacao Kingdom is an impoverished state, and that Dark Choco himself grew up in poverty, was a mistranslation courtesy of Google Translate.

The actual current translation is below:

"In my youth, you never gave me no warmth or sweetness. We did not have an affectionate father-son relationship the way others did."

I still don't really know for certain exactly where the idea that they were impoverished came from in the translation. Thank Google for being a genius in that regard, I guess. You're doing your best.

In any case, it should be noted that there are groups of people--POC and East Asians especially--who have been bothered and been taking issue with the idea that Dark Cacao Kingdom doesn't have the means or resources to take care of themselves.

As @mantafae brought up, there is a difference in a kingdom not having material goods because they don't have the means, and having the means but chosing not to partake in creating or using them.

I personally also believe that the perception of the kingdom being poor in food is by Affogato Cookie's doing. It didn't help matters when the child at the start of the story brought up concerns about starvation only to be turned away by Affogato, when later it's revealed that the castle actually did have food to spare. It's likely that there was also more food available than what was at the feast with Affogato's followers--food that was likely meant to be divided among the citizens but wasn't allowed by Affogato himself.

That's besides the point, and leads into the idea that it was an intentional means to weaken civilians so that he had an easier time to secure the throne with little threat of revolution. Or that he was perhaps attempting to frame Dark Cacao as having hoarded the food himself and Affogato--when he became king--as a savior for giving them that food. Either way, it's a bad first impression for leading the idea that they are a stable country in terms of food and resources.

I apologize for the spread of misinformation regarding the translation--at the time, it was assumed that it was the correct translation. It's important to keep up-to-date with what the canon actually is so we don't purposefully misrepresent the characters, their kingdoms, their heritage, and the people that they are designed to represent.

If you would like to read more of Mantafae's explanation, here is the Twitter link that explains a little bit further.

Thank you for reading! Please enjoy the rest of your day comfortably.

#cookie run kingdom #crk #dark cacao cookie #affogato cookie #dark choco cookie #dark cacao kingdom #i'll reblog this periodically so folks can see it

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travllingbunny · 8 months

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Hi! I don't know how much you're interested in the subject today, but considering how i really adored a lot of your opinions/views of the Wars of the Roses and some people involved, especially Richard III, i was wondering how you think a scenerio where Richard remained King for more time or simply won Bosworth would be

Thank you for the teresting question.

Contrary to historical fiction works that portray him as desperate at the Battle of Bosworth, I think it's more likely Richard was hoping to get rid of Henry Tudor quickly and saw him as just a temporary nuisance. If only the battle had happened a couple of days later, when Richard got reinforcements from the North, or if William Stanley had not made the decision to definitely switch sides to Henry, the battle would've probably gone completely differently.

Below is my speculation of what happens if Richard wins:

The immediate outcome seems relatively clear - we know now that Richard was in the middle of secret negotiations with the royal family of Portugal for a double marriage between him and Infanta Joanna, and Elizabeth of York and King's 16-year old cousin Manuel, Duke of Beja, which were apparently going very well. It seems unlikely that Joanna, who had been refusing to get married for so long, would accept, but supposedly the negotiations were going well. We know Richard had sent her a personal letter, so it's fun to speculate what he said that would make her reconsider. I'm thinking he may have talked about religion (as they were both known to be pious) and pitched the marriage in terms of a partnership, and how she could do good for peace and the people of England through charity work (which she was known to do) and maybe even assured her that she wouldn't have to keep having children after she gave birth to an heir? Richard was expected to remarry and have a son after his only legitimate son and his wife died, but going by his choice of bride, he was looking for a great Queen and political partner above all, and not a broodmare - I can't imagine Joanna, who wanted to be a nun and was against marriage, agreeing to keep popping up a child every year or two until she hits menopause. He also may not have been two concerned because he had an heir and spares already, even though not 'of his body'- - his adult nephew John de La Pole and his younger brothers William, Edmund and Richard. The Portugal double marriage would've been a genius political move for many reasons: it would allow Richard to claim that he was ending the York/Lancaster rift for good by marrying Joanna, since the Portuguese royal family were through the female line the main surviving Lancastrian branch; it would fulfil his promise to Elizabeth Woodville that he would find good matches for her daughters in spite of their new 'bastard' status - and how! a Portuguese royal marriage was worthy of a princess* - and could be seen as healing the rift between the Yorkists too (and would at the same time make it impossible for Henry Tudor or anyone else to try to claim the throne of England by marrying her); and it would give England a great, intelligent and respectable Queen, who had experience in ruling as regent and could rule in RIchard's absence when he spent time abroad in wars, and whose reputation for piety and charity for people would help restore his tarnished reputation.

One interesting consequence of his marriage alliance is that Elizabeth of York would eventually have become a Queen Consort, but of Portugal, as Manuel eventually became King.Manuel I in 1495.

Once the situation became more stable, Richard would've probably focused on the things he had already started to do during his short reign - legal reforms aimed mostly at bettering the judiciary and the status of common people, and he would no doubt also want to curtail the power of major noblemen of questionable loyalty such as the Stanleys - and things he is known to have enthusiastically talked about planning to do, such as trying to convince other European countries to mount a campaign to stop the Ottoman Empire's conquests in Europe. (France would be an unlikely ally, Portugal and Burgundy would be obvious ones, and he'd no doubt try to pitch it to the Holy Roman Empire.)

I don't know whether he'd be successful at that, or how long he would live, but a few most obvious historical consequences would be:

the way the previous few decades were remembered in history would be very different, and no one would ever call them the "Wars of the Roses" - which was a name given by Walter Scott in the 19th century based on the fact that Henry VII used the red-white Tudor rose as his sigil, promoting it as a sign of supposed unity between the Lancaster and York dynasties - in spite of the fact that the Lancasters didn't actually use a red rose, or any kind of rose, as their sigil. Henry VII also presented the conflicts that had gone on as a part of one ongoing conflict that he ended with the Battle of Bosworth and by marrying Elizabeth of York. In reality, these were a few conflicts separated by years or even decades in between, and before the battle of Bosworth, the last actual armed conflict fought over the throne of England had been 14 years earlier, when Edward IV won his second and decisive war over the Lancasters. The conflict between the two Yorkist factions after Edward's death did not result in any actual battle (in 1783, Buckingham failed to ignite a rebellion, and his ally Henry turned back to France, realizing the war was lost before it began), so Henry basically 'ended the Wars of the Roses' only after he restarted them in 1485. (Not to mention that Henry had to fight another battle two years later against the Yorkists led by Jon de la Pole, which is always conveniently left out in history books, and had to catch, exile or execute various Yorkist pretenders throughout his reign.) If Henry loses the battle, he becomes only a footnote in history. Edward IV remains considered the one who ended the Lancaster-York conflicts with his decisive victory in 1471. Richard probably manages to be popular and respected king (much more than Henry was with his notorious tax laws) and would likely have claimed to have 'united the York and Lancaster branches' with his marriage to Joanna (though he probably wouldn't have made a huge deal out of it as Henry did, since Henry was promoting himself as the founder of a new dynasty that would start a new era). But what of the Princes in the Tower? Well, we don't know what happened to them and Richard may be suspected to have murdered them, but Henry definitely did imprison 11 year old Edward of Warwick and keep him locked up in the Tower until he was 25 and then executed him on trumped up treason charges just because he was another pretender to the throne, but barely anyone talks about it or cares, so... (insert something about history being written by the winners)

Scotland and England remain separate independent countries. It's very unlikely that the same chain of events would happen where the daughter of a king of England marries a king of Scotland, and then a century later her descendant becomes not just the king of Scotland but also the heir to the throne of England because the ruling dynasty of England died out. There is never a Tudor dynasty, never a Stuart dynasty, never a Hanover dynasty. And there's never a United Kingdom.

There is never such a thing as Anglicanism/the Church of England, with the monarch as its head. Mind you, this doesn't necessarily mean that England remains fully or predominantly Catholic - Protestantism was gaining popularity not just in England (even when Henry was still a devout Catholic) but also in Scotland, which didn't have a Henry VIII splitting with the Pope so he could annul his marriage. It's impossible to tell how exactly the Reformation and Counter-reformation would've affected England under different monarchs and a different dynasty, since so much of the religious strife in the 16th century was linked to Henry's decisions, his break from the Pope, his marriages and annulments and his succession issues, and then with the personalities and backgrounds of his children: Edward as a staunch Protestant (just like his mother's family), Mary as a staunch Catholic (completely unsurprising with her background and the fact that her father broke from the Pope so he could annul his marriage to her mother, proclaiming her a bastard), and then Elizabeth, who couldn't be tolerant to Catholics even if she didn't care about religion, since the Pope and therefore all Catholics considered her a bastard and an illegitimate monarch. How would elderly Richard, and/or his heirs, treat Protestants? What would they think of Martin Luther, or of William Tyndale? It's impossible to tell. He was a devout Catholic, but Protestantism didn't exist at the time, and would he (who was the first of English kings to publish official state documents in English) hate the idea of translating the Bible into English so ordinary people could understand it without the help of clergy? I really don't know, and it's even harder to tell what his heirs would be like in that regard. Would there be more religious tolerance in England? For all we know, it might even be less if a particularly fanatical monarch ended up on a throne... but at least I think I can say with some certainty that English monarchs of this hypothetical York dynasty would have no personal and dynastic reasons to persecute either Protestants or Catholics the way monarchs of the Tudor dynasty had due to their specific circumstances.

#richard iii #english history #henry vii #the wars of the roses #battle of bosworth #the tudor dynasty #edward iv #elizabeth of york #henry viii #church of england #english reformation #wars of the roses

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aquietwritingcorner · 4 months

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TMNTStoryComp, Round 3: From the Treetops to the Rooftops

(for @tmntstorycomp For part one, go here. For part two, go here. And please, Go vote Sanctuary!)

“—and he seemed like a very polite and nice boy, if a bit lost,” Ms. Morrison said, her hands running over Lucy, scratching behind her cat’s ears. “Lucy warmed up to him after a bit. I get the feeling he’s going through a hard time right now.”

Raph nodded as he listened to Ms. Morrison, giving her verbal cues every so often so that she’d know he was listening to her. When he’d returned from a very interesting hunting trip with that rat guy who wasn’t Splinter, he’d found Donnie collecting various samples of things, and putting them in varied baggies and test tube—and seen no sign of Ms. Morrison. When she wasn’t where Don had left her, the two had begun a frantic search for her.

…which had been aided by talking animals and trees, of all things.

They’d found her sitting in a lawn chair, apparently having just finished sharing a small snack time with the young turtle in charge of this place. Apparently, his name was Masaccio and he was, in her words, “a very polite boy.”

Raph and Don had just been relieved that she was alright. She had been amused by them and asked them how they thought she made her way through day to day life. She could handle a small walk in the woods.

“Fascinating,” Don said, from where he was using a small microscope that he apparently had in his bag—Raph had learned long ago not to ask too many questions—to look at the samples he had taken.

“What’s fascinatin’ genius?” Raph asked.

“These things have no cell structure!” Don said, making notes in that book he had stolen and stashed in his bag.

“…meanin’?” Raph prompted him.

Don looked up. “Meaning that they aren’t really alive,” he said. “Not in the same way that you and I are, at least. They’re more like… like constructs. But there is something there. Its almost like a type of energy.”

“Your microscope can look at energy?” Ms. Morrison asked.

Don shook his head. “No, it can’t. But the way that the samples are behaving under the microscope shows me that there’s an energy to it. And if I concentrate, I can feel it, too. Raphie—can you?”

Raph frowned and reached out towards the samples Don had. Closing his eyes and remembering Master Splinter’s lessons, he concentrated. He wasn’t as good at this as the rest of his family, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t do it. To his surprise, he did feel something.

“Huh. Yeah, there is somethin’ about them,” he said, opening his eyes in surprise.

Don nodded. “I bet it has to do with the way that Masaccio creates these environments. What I wouldn’t give for a closer look at that pen—”

Suddenly, the world around them began to shake again. Guessing what was coming. Don swept all of his samples into his bag, closing it tightly, even as Raph moved close to Ms. Morrison and the older woman grasped her cat to her.

“It’s happenin’ again!” Raph called out.

All around them the trees, grass, all the flora and fauna seemed to sink into the ground and disappear. The mossy ground under their feet turned hard and unyielding as it became asphalt and concrete. Rumbling started, and the edge of buildings started to form, before thrusting them up high, as if the buildings were rising from the ground. They all held on, trying to stay stable as they rose higher and higher. Windows, fire escapes, and then, finally, sounds formed, too, transforming the whole area into what looked to be the rooftops of New York City.

“…are we home?” Ms. Morrison asked, still, surprisingly, seated, as her chair didn’t disappear this time.

Letting go of her, Don padded over to the edge of a rooftop and peered down. He could see the ground below them, but even though it seemed to be in reach, it also seemed to be impossibly far away. And it was too clean, too uniform.

“…I don’t think so,” Don said. “I think it’s another recreation.”

Ms. Morrison tilted her head. “I think you’re right, Donatello,” she said. “The sounds and smells aren’t quite right.”

Raph was frowning. “So, he took us right back to the city? Why?”

“Perhaps it’s familiar to him,” Ms. Morrison suggested. “Perhaps he craves that familiarity.”

“Regardless of why,” Don said. “The fact is, we’re here, now. And with all these rooftops around, we’re going to need to do some exploring.”

“At least we can get rid of these,” Raph said, already stripping out of the forest clothes. “But how are we gonna get around? Ms. M can’t exactly rooftop hop.”

“Oh my, I don’t think I could have ever done that,” she said, blinking in surprise.

Don frowned. “That does present a problem.”

“You boys go,” Ms. Morrison said firmly. “I’ll stay here. So far nothing has been dangerous in any of these places. I’ll be your home base, so to speak, and you two can try to figure out what’s going on. Who knows. Perhaps I’ll run into others who come here, for even Maasaccio again.”

The two boys exchanged a look. They didn’t like the idea, but she had a point.

“Alright,” Raph finally said, “but you’ve still got the shell cell. Call us if anything happens, alright? We ain’t just gonna abandon you.”

“I will,” Ms. Morrison said, getting herself comfortable in the chair. She really wished she had a radio for some music, but oh well. “Now get going. I’ll be fine.”

With one more exchanged look, the brothers did just that, and took off across the rooftops, silently taking stock of the area around them.

#tmntstorycomp #tmnt 2003 #tmnt 2k3 #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt ms. morrison

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angelique-of-the-volturi-guard · 1 year

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Diana Reid appreciation post time:

This woman is a GODDAMN BADASS and it is time she got her proper due! So this is a list of why she’s one of the best female recurring characters on the show!

First of all, she’s played by Jane Lynch, so obviously that’s a huge win in her favor.

But we’re here for facts about her so I digress.

She’s obviously brilliant, especially considering her choice of career.

But the thing is, she had that career at a time when women didn’t have as many rights as they do today, if you consider that Spencer was born in 1981 so Diana would have been teaching in the late seventies, which was around the time when women in the US were getting a lot more independent.

Being a woman and a college professor in a time when women were not in many high-powered professions is badass.

Also the fact that she chose to teach 15th century literature? Amazing.

There’s also the fact that she raised our favorite boy wonder while dealing with the effects of schizophrenia and made him into a great person.

But we knew that already.

She also had a loving and stable marriage with William up until the Riley Jenkins ordeal, which shouldn’t be discounted either.

There’s also the fact that she raised Spencer alone after he left. A single mom has it tough enough, but a single mom with mental illness raising a boy genius???

THIS IS AN OLYMPIC QUALIFYING FEAT.

And not only did she encourage his love of reading, she gave him the confidence to go away to college at Caltech.

She always put Spencer first, even when she was sick- even saying that she and Spencer could only trust one another during a psychotic break.

And even though he was the one who took care of her a lot of the time because she was sick, she took care of him in a lot of ways too.

No matter where he was in the world, she was the anchor point that held him steady.

The fact that Spencer became an FBI agent was likely a hell of a blow to somebody with paranoid schizophrenia, but she has accepted her son’s career and even helped on a case or two.

Not to mention she was the one he went to when JJ said she loved him, which makes her his comfort person.

Also can we talk about the honesty?

She never slandered William to Spencer, even when Spencer was investigating the Riley Jenkins case.

She went OFF HER MEDS in order to be able to help give Spencer the truth of why they weren’t together without her medication or disease clouding her.

She admitted that she waited for William for a long time after he left.

We love a vulnerable queen.

And not just that, but she was genuinely wise.

Her gut instinct saved Spencer’s life from Gary Michaels.

Her instincts in general are fantastic honestly. A mother does know.

She was accepting of her Alzheimer’s in a period of lucidity and gave Spencer excellent advice about life.

Also her first concern with her diagnosis was not remembering that she loved him, and my heart can’t take it.

Best mom 🥹

Diana Reid was the first character with Schizophrenia who felt real to me as someone living with the disease.

She was the first character to show that just because she had a mental illness didn’t mean she couldn’t be a good mother.

And also, her illness did not define her first to Spencer. She was always his mom first.

In conclusion: Diana Reid was a successful woman who suffered from an illness but still managed to be an incredible mom in spite of her disease, and is not celebrated enough in the fandom.

#mun post #criminal minds #diana reid #spencer reid #William Reid #Reid family #appreciation post #This woman deserves so much credit.#she did so much and honestly she should be celebrated

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theforestghost · 7 months

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The Consort and The Warlord Ch7

Summary: Megatron uses the All Spark to gain access to Cybertron and demands a peace treaty. An Autobot Consort is offered and Optimus is chosen. A Bonding Ceremony takes place and now Optimus has three vorn to figure out exactly what Megatron wants to do with Cybertron.

Pairing: Optimus Prime x Megatron

Continuity: Animated

Status: Ongoing

Optimus stopped, optics wide and stabilizers frozen. The femme ahead of him stopped as well, her multiple red optics locked onto him in just as much surprise. She recovered quickly however, as she bared her fangs and opened the door she was next to and closing it behind her.

Optimus stood where he was for several nano-kliks. The femme had been very different from any other he'd seen. She was the same height as Ratchet, had several optics and her frame was strangely familiar to an organic creature he'd hope he'd never come across again. But there was something else about her that bugged him. He knew that femme, but he couldn't figure out for the life of him how.

"Bossbot!"

Optimus broke from his thoughts and looked up to see Bulkhead, waving with a happy grin. Optimus waved back and decided to push the femme to the back of his processor for now. He'd come to visit Bulkhead after several cycles and he wouldn't let his processor get bogged down more than it already was. Walking up to the large green mech, he noticed that Shockwave was there as well. Bulkhead stepped forward and picked Optimus up in a tight hug.

"You doing okay?" Bulkhead asked.

"I think that's my question." Optimus said. "Are you doing okay?"

"Yeah! I mean the work is tough, but I'm having fun!" Bulkhead said.

"Most bots do not find the formulas for quantum physics, fun." Shockwave stayed bluntly.

"But it is fun." Bulkhead said. "It's like putting a puzzle together."

Shockwave shook his helm. "The thoughts of a genius are unreasonable." He said with an ex-vent.

"Genius?" Optimus asked, looking up at Bulkhead.

"I gave Bulkhead several tests and he scored amongst the top 0.01 percent for physics, quantum physics and quantum theory." Shockwave explained. "How he became a mere repair bot shows the incompetence of his instructors."

Bulkhead scratched his cheekplate, flushing at the praise. Optimus was clearly surprised, he knew Bulkhead always had a knack for space bridges, but he never thought that he was a genius. His chassis felt a bit tight; he should have paid closer attention to Bulkhead.

"I'm glad he's finally getting the recognition he deserves." Optimus said. The large mech beamed down at his leader.

"Want to see what we made?" Bulkhead asked. He was eager and almost giddy.

"Is it safe?" Optimus asked. He didn't know much about quantum physics but he knew it was dangerous.

"Of course! The reason we closed the science department before this was to make sure everything was safe and stable." Bulkhead explained. He began to push Optimus towards a door that led to the engineering department.

The first room Optimus was in was messy, machines lined the wall along with desks covered in half built machinery. Scans dotted the area with readings Optimus couldn't even begin to understand. He had to step over thick tubing and he noted a medical berth off to the side with a bright light over it like some makeshift surgery table. Tools that made Optimus' tanks sink surrounded it and he was certain that the dried fluids were energon. Taking a glimpse back at Shockwave, Optimus remembered that this mech was and still is a feared mad scientist.

Optimus was stopped outside an unsettlingly thick door that opened as Bulkhead pressed his servo to a scanner. A thick rush of cold air sent an alert to his hub as he entered the chilled room. The inside of the room was much neater than the previous one but cold air made the entire room feel like space. The center of the room was a large table, datapads, beakers, small machines and more were scattered about. At the very center of the table was a beaker with a small swirling blue orb.

"Isn't that a space bridge portal?" Optimus asked in surprise. He stood a bit closer and leaned down to peek into the beaker.

"Yup!" Bulkhead said happily.

"Why is it in a beaker?" Optimus questioned.

"Because we made it small enough to fit in a beaker!" Bulkhead said.

Optimus was still very much confused so he turned to Shockwave in hopes of a simpler answer. The warframe was checking some data and glanced back at them.

"We managed to create our own space bridges but we decided to try see if we could make one without the bridge itself." Shockwave explained but seeing Optimus' confusion, he continued. "The space bridge itself acts as a coordination key but also as a stabilizer for the space bridge portal. It is capable of remaining open and stable due to the technology in the bridge and tends to be rather sensitive. A reason the Autobots deployed repair crews to keep constant maintenance on them.

"While Bulkhead is working on a better construction to strengthen the space bridges themselves, we decided to also work on a theory where a space bridge portal could function without the use of a space bridge itself." Shockwave said. "Unfortunately we cannot make it any larger or it becomes unstable and causes a massive suction."

"So you have a blackhole in a beaker." Optimus said, stepping away from the table.

"Kind of?" Bulkhead said with a laugh. "It's harmless right now but since it's constantly connected to the dimensional rift, we have to be careful. Megatron almost dropped the project when we did make a blackhole the first time."

"Lord Megatron was not amused with that miscalculation." Shockwave noted. "We managed to fix the formula but now it is only large enough to transport a cube."

"And we don't know where the cube goes." Bulkhead mentioned. "It isn't picking up the coordinates we insert since that was the job of the space bridge itself."

Optimus stared at Bulkhead and then back at the beaker before looking back at Bulkhead. "Do not let Bumblebee know you have a blackhole in a beaker."

"I wont!" Bulkhead laughed.

"We should leave this room now, the readings are becoming unstable." Shockwave mentioned, gesturing towards the door.

They left swiftly and after a decontamination bath, due to possible radiation, Optimus sat on a stool as Shockwave prepared them energon. Bulkhead shook off the last of the disinfectant from his digits.

"What do you think?" Bulkhead asked.

"It's amazing." Optimus said honestly. "Science isn't my strong point, but I can tell you're working hard."

Bulkhead smiled brightly at the praise. "You know, I was so excited about working with space bridges that I didn't realize I'd be working with cons until I was already here." He explained. "But Shockwave and the others didn't ignore me or dismiss what I had to say. They listened and they asked for clarification. Shockwave is blunt and can be pretty rude, but he just wants to understand things correctly. Even Black Arachnia is easier to talk to."

"Black Arachnia is the other Science Lead, right?" Optimus asked. Bulkhead nodded. "Does she have multiple red optics and kind of small for a Decepticon?"

"That's her!" Bulkhead said. "Do you know her?"

Optimus shook his head. "I saw her in the hall and she glared at me." He said.

"Black Arachnia is a difficult bot to like." Shockwave stated, holding three cubes in his servos. He gave one to each of them as he sipped his own. "She seems to hate everybot and her loyalty to Lord Megatron is simply because he funds her research. I will admit that she is a talented scientist."

"She managed to create an energy efficient fuel that uses less energon consumption but still works the same." Bulkhead explained. "We are trying to get it to work for space bridges but it might not be strong enough."

"It is strong enough to power city states which is what Lord Megatron wants." Shockwave stated. "The less energon we have to spend on energy, the more we can have for fuel."

"I've noticed that DDecepticons ave very rich energon, even engex and energon goodies." Optimus noted. "The amount saved with this fuel must be substantial."

"Let's just say that this formula of hers is the only reason Lord Megatron keeps Black Arachnia in the ranks." Shockwave states. "Her other formulas tend to border on chemical warfare. Apparently that is her hobby."

"That's a nasty hobby." Bulkhead muttered as he put his cube down. "Was she born with the optics and appendages?"

"No, apparently that was caused by an accident stellar cycles ago." Shockwave said. "She is a techno-organic now but she used to be a full robotic organism like us."

Optimus froze and looked down at his servos. His cube was mostly full but he found himself no longer craving fuel. Black Arachnia got stuck in an accident and mutated… why did this bother him so much?

"Oi Bulkhead we've got some issues with the machine!"

A warframe Optimus didn't recognize stuck his helm out from a doorway. Bulkhead got up immediately and made his way to the warframe, stepping over thick wire bundles as he does. When he disappeared, Optimus slowly turned to Shockwave to see if he should get going soon since Bulkhead was now occupied.

"Are you and Lord Megatron in a disagreement?" Shockwave asked suddenly.

Optimus flinched and leaned back. "H-how-why does everyone know that?" He stuttered. "And it wasn't a fight!"

"Lord Megatron’s mood has been down for the last couple of cycles." Shockwave explained. "Given that he isn't angry at anybot in particular, it is obvious that his mood has to do with you."

Optimus looked down at his servos again and frowned. He still didn't know what to do. His processor was going over every pro and con that each scenario has and all he can see is Cybertron going to war and not bring able to stop it.

"I do not understand the turmoil you are currently in, Consort Optimus, but I do think it would be wise to at least speak with Lord Megatron about it." Shockwave stated.

For a moment, Optimus thought he was talking to Longarm Prime again, but he pushed that thought to the side. Now wasn't the time to remember a mech who technically never existed. Now wasn't the time to falter.

Standing up, Optimus thanked Shockwave and left. In the elevator, he found Lugnut waiting for him obediently.

"Where is Megatron?" Optimus asked, the door closing behind them.

"LORD MEGATRON SHOULD BE IN HIS OFFICE THIS CYCLE!" Lugnut stated.

"Take me to him." Optimus said.

Lugnut nodded and pressed a certain button on the elevator. It took them to a floor in the middle of the tower. This floor was packed with bots going about their business and Optimus was almost worried he'd get crushed until Lugnut led him to a different elevator. Inside was only a scanner and after pressing his servo to it, Lugnut leaned forward to allow an optic scan. The lights in the elevator dimmed as they began a long ascent to the top of the tower.

They went higher than Optimus' habsuite, most likely to the very top floor given the time it took. When I finally came to a stop, they were greeted with an open hallway not unlike any others. Walking down it, they came to a door, guarded by two large warframes who acknowledged Lugnut with a nod before bowing deeply to Optimus. The last action twisted his gut, but Optimus ignored it and stepped closer to the door.

"Lord Megatron is in a meeting." One of yhe guards stated.

Optimus looked out at the sky from the window. It was only midday. "I'll wait." He said, taking a spot against the wall and leaning against it.

Hadeen began to set before the door to Megatron’s office opened and a mech with a deep blue frame and red visor left. Optimus still stood against against wall, Lugnut seated on the floor beside him looking absolutely bored. Optimus had gone through plenty of discipline training as a cadet so he was used to standing and waiting. The Decepticon with the visor stopped in front of Lugnut but nodded for the guard to inform Megatron of their guest.

"Soundwave: Shocked at deplorable state of Lugnut." The new mech spoke.

Lugnut stood up immediately, towering over the smaller warframe. "I AM NOT DEPLORABLE!" Lugnut shouted.

"Soundwave: Thinks otherwise. Lugnut: sitting around as Consort Optimus stands." Soundwave argued.

"Consort Optimus, you can enter now." The guard said, gesturing for Optimus to enter.

Optimus decided to ignore the arguing cons behind him and entered the office. The inside was bare of anything unnecessary, only a few gem statues for decoration. The desk was piled up with datapads, several consoles and shelves lined the walls. Many held locks on them to prevent wandering servos from snatching important information. The only vent in the room was directly above the desk where Megatron sat.

The warlord was engrossed in his datapads, not noticing as Optimus came to stand in front of the desk. It took almost a klik for Megatron to glance up and he did a double take when he saw Optimus. Standing up, Megatron immediately walked around the desk.

"How long have you been waiting?" Megatron asked.

"Just since midday." Optimus said.

"The guard should have let you in." Megatron scolded. "Are you okay?"

Optimus squirmed in his spot, digits locking together. "I need to speak with you." He said, trying to sound confident.

Megatron noticed Optimus' discomfort and offered him to take a seat at a sitting area that was off to the side. Optimus sat down, staying at the edge of the large chair as Megatron sat down beside him.

"Did you want any fuel?" Megatron offered but Optimus shook his head. "What did you need to speak about then?"

Optimus felt a lump in his throat and tried to swallow it. He'd spent all the time he'd waited thinking about how to speak with Megatron. He just needed his voicebox to work properly. Static came our and he coughed to clear his systems. Megatron seemed confused and worried about his situation but Optimus tried once more to speak.

"I'm… confused." Optimus finally spoke. He looked up at Megatron who nodded for him to continue. "I've spent the last few cycles going over everything and I just can't understand anything. I'm an Autobot, I swore my loyalty to Ultra Magnus and I made a vow to protect Cybertron no matter what. But with everything going on, I can't do both… I may not be able to do either!"

"What is going on?" Megatron asked.

"You don't know?" Optimus asked. "Don't you still have spies in Iacon?"

"Of course I do, but I haven't heard anything from them since we entered Kaon." Megatron stated. Shockwave had been his key point of communication, without him, messages took much longer to arrive.

"Iacon and the Council are split. Some want peace, they want to accept you and the Decepticons and give you a chance, but a majority want to drive you off of Cybertron, even if it means war." Optimus explained as clearly as he could despite how stressed he was. He shouldn't be giving this information to Megatron, but he couldn't figure out a solution on his own… and maybe he could see the true colors of the warlord.

"How do you know this?" Megatron asked.

"I have my own spy in Iacon." Optimus said sheepishly. "He came here the other cycle to tell me what happened."

"So that's who you were speaking with." Megatron said, sounding almost relieved. "Wait, he got into our habauite?"

"He's a cyberninja." Optimus explained. "He told me that the Council is letting the civillians panic over the situation and Ultra Magnus isn't trying to help anybot! And I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing!

"I was sent as a spy to see what your true intentions are and after three Vorn, I'm supposed to report back and Ultra Magnus said he'd somehow break the bond and I was never told anything past that! But you actually want peace and my team are happy and finally have bots that treat them with respect and if I leave, they can't just stay here, especially if we go to war! And if we do go to war, so many civillians will get dragged into it, so much of Cybertron would get destroyed and so many lives will be lost, but if I stay here… if I stay, they could say you're holding me hostage and try to drag you down another way or I'll just be written off as a traitor and start the war anyway and-"

"Optimus!" Megatron said loudly.

Optimus flinched and looked up at Megatron with wide optics. The warlord was kneeling in front of him, large servos on his arms, holding him steady but not too hard. From the expression on the warlord's faceplate, he'd been calling his name for a while. Optimus realized his vents were running high; he was hyperventilating. Shaking, Optimus looked up at Megatron.

"Focus on me." Megatron said. "Don't think, just focus on me."

Slowly, Optimus let his focus stay on Megatron. Unable to look in his optics, Optimus focused on his chinplate. His vents began to slow, his frame began to lighten as his joints unlocked. After several kliks, Optimus was no longer in a state of panic and Megatron was now holding his servos. Stroking the back of them gently, Megatron let out a hum as he looked Optimus in the optic.

"You have had a lot on your processor." Megatron said.

"I-I don't know what to do." Optimus spoke, his voice cracking.

"What do you want to do?" Megatron asked. Optimus shook his head. "I am sure you know, you just keep overthinking things. What is most important to you?"

Optimus remained silent. He watched as Megatron continued to stroke the back of his servos and he couldn't help but notice how nice it felt. Closing his optics, Optimus let his vents settle. Looking up to Megatron, he met his optics with a determined expression.

"My vow to protect Cybertron." He said.

Megatron smiled and stood up, still holding Optimus' servos. Optimus stood up, stumbling slightly as Megatron led him to stand between the chairs.

"That is what I wanted to hear." Megatron spoke softly. "Now, in order to protect Cybertron, what do you intend to do?"

Optimus looked up at Megatron, trying not to look too embarrassed at being held so close to the warlord. He didn't mind it as much as he probably should've.

"I can't decide right now." Optimus said. "I don't know enough… and I really can't make a decision without speaking with Ultra Magnus first."

"That is an acceptable answer." Megatron stated. "It seems I will have to wait patiently for the next two vorn."

"I feel like I should apologize though." Optimus said carefully. Megatron gave him a look of confusion. "I did reveal that Ultra Magnus wanted to make an excuse to break the bond which is very inappropriate."

"I had always believed that he would attempt such a plan." Megatron admitted. "I still highly doubt he'd let one of his beloved Primes stay Bonded to me of all mechs."

"I'm not one of his beloved Primes." Optimus frowned. "I'm the spare."

"Maybe to others but Ultra Magnus seemed very disappointed at our bonding ceremony." Megatron explained. "I do not think he wanted to hand you over."

Optimus flushed at this but looked away with a frown. "Either way, this entire situation feels weird." He said.

"How so?" Megatron asked.

"You know that I am here to spy on you and my superior wants to break the bonding." Optimus said. "And you are okay with it!"

Megatron simply chuckled. "I believe we should resign for the cycle, tomorrow you will be joining me in a meeting with all of my generals."

"I need a break." Optimus ex-vented.

"Afterwards little one." Megatron promised.

#fanfic #fanfiction #megatron #optimus prime #optimus x megatron #the consort and the warlord #transformers animated

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dickensdaily · 8 months

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A reminder and a preface all about ravens

Master Humphrey’s Clock is ticking…

This is merely a reminder that Dickens Daily will be returning to your inboxes next month with our second novel, Barnaby Rudge. Originally serialised in 1841, instalments will be sent out from 13th February 2024 until the end of November. As with Great Expectations, chapters will be sent out either once or twice per week depending on what was included in the relevant 1841 instalment of Master Humphrey’s Clock for that week.

There is a slight complication this time, due to 2024 being a leap year when 1841 was not. This means that the weekdays for the emails will change after a couple of weeks to keep in line with the correct dates, but after that they will remain steady. Thus, Chapters 1-5 will be sent out on Tuesdays and Fridays, then from Chapter 6 (6th March) onwards they will be sent out on Wednesdays and Saturdays.

If you haven't signed up yet, you can do so at dickensdaily.substack.com!

Get excited!

To whet your appetite, we’ve included below the preface Dickens wrote for the 1849 cheap edition of Barnaby Rudge. This did not appear when originally serialised, so this is just a little extra! Get ready to learn all about ravens…

Dickens’ raven Grip, taxidermied

Preface to Barnaby Rudge by Charles Dickens

The late Mr Waterton having, some time ago, expressed his opinion that ravens are gradually becoming extinct in England, I offered the few following words about my experience of these birds.

The raven in this story is a compound of two great originals, of whom I was, at different times, the proud possessor. The first was in the bloom of his youth, when he was discovered in a modest retirement in London, by a friend of mine, and given to me. He had from the first, as Sir Hugh Evans says of Anne Page, ‘good gifts’, which he improved by study and attention in a most exemplary manner. He slept in a stable—generally on horseback—and so terrified a Newfoundland dog by his preternatural sagacity, that he has been known, by the mere superiority of his genius, to walk off unmolested with the dog’s dinner, from before his face. He was rapidly rising in acquirements and virtues, when, in an evil hour, his stable was newly painted. He observed the workmen closely, saw that they were careful of the paint, and immediately burned to possess it. On their going to dinner, he ate up all they had left behind, consisting of a pound or two of white lead; and this youthful indiscretion terminated in death.

While I was yet inconsolable for his loss, another friend of mine in Yorkshire discovered an older and more gifted raven at a village public-house, which he prevailed upon the landlord to part with for a consideration, and sent up to me. The first act of this Sage, was, to administer to the effects of his predecessor, by disinterring all the cheese and halfpence he had buried in the garden—a work of immense labour and research, to which he devoted all the energies of his mind. When he had achieved this task, he applied himself to the acquisition of stable language, in which he soon became such an adept, that he would perch outside my window and drive imaginary horses with great skill, all day. Perhaps even I never saw him at his best, for his former master sent his duty with him, ‘and if I wished the bird to come out very strong, would I be so good as to show him a drunken man’—which I never did, having (unfortunately) none but sober people at hand.

But I could hardly have respected him more, whatever the stimulating influences of this sight might have been. He had not the least respect, I am sorry to say, for me in return, or for anybody but the cook; to whom he was attached—but only, I fear, as a Policeman might have been. Once, I met him unexpectedly, about half-a-mile from my house, walking down the middle of a public street, attended by a pretty large crowd, and spontaneously exhibiting the whole of his accomplishments. His gravity under those trying circumstances, I can never forget, nor the extraordinary gallantry with which, refusing to be brought home, he defended himself behind a pump, until overpowered by numbers. It may have been that he was too bright a genius to live long, or it may have been that he took some pernicious substance into his bill, and thence into his maw—which is not improbable, seeing that he new-pointed the greater part of the garden-wall by digging out the mortar, broke countless squares of glass by scraping away the putty all round the frames, and tore up and swallowed, in splinters, the greater part of a wooden staircase of six steps and a landing—but after some three years he too was taken ill, and died before the kitchen fire. He kept his eye to the last upon the meat as it roasted, and suddenly turned over on his back with a sepulchral cry of ‘Cuckoo!’ Since then I have been ravenless.*

Of the story of BARNABY RUDGE itself, I do not think I can say anything here, more to the purpose than the following passages from the original Preface.

‘No account of the Gordon Riots having been to my knowledge introduced into any Work of Fiction, and the subject presenting very extraordinary and remarkable features, I was led to project this Tale.

‘It is unnecessary to say, that those shameful tumults, while they reflect indelible disgrace upon the time in which they occurred, and all who had act or part in them, teach a good lesson. That what we falsely call a religious cry is easily raised by men who have no religion, and who in their daily practice set at nought the commonest principles of right and wrong; that it is begotten of intolerance and persecution; that it is senseless, besotted, inveterate and unmerciful; all History teaches us. But perhaps we do not know it in our hearts too well, to profit by even so humble an example as the ‘No Popery’ riots of Seventeen Hundred and Eighty. ‘However imperfectly those disturbances are set forth in the following pages, they are impartially painted by one who has no sympathy with the Romish Church, though he acknowledges, as most men do, some esteemed friends among the followers of its creed. ‘It may be observed that, in the description of the principal outrages, reference has been had to the best authorities of that time, such as they are; the account given in this Tale, of all the main features of the Riots, is substantially correct. ‘It may be further remarked, that Mr Dennis’s allusions to the flourishing condition of his trade in those days, have their foundation in Truth, and not in the Author’s fancy. Any file of old Newspapers, or odd volume of the Annual Register, will prove this with terrible ease. ‘Even the case of Mary Jones, dwelt upon with so much pleasure by the same character, is no effort of invention. The facts were stated, exactly as they are stated here, in the House of Commons. Whether they afforded as much entertainment to the merry gentlemen assembled there, as some other most affecting circumstances of a similar nature mentioned by Sir Samuel Romilly, is not recorded.’

That the case of Mary Jones may speak the more emphatically for itself, I subjoin it, as related by SIR WILLIAM MEREDITH in a speech in Parliament, ‘on Frequent Executions’, made in 1777.

‘Under this act,’ the Shop-lifting Act, ‘one Mary Jones was executed, whose case I shall just mention; it was at the time when press warrants were issued, on the alarm about Falkland Islands. The woman’s husband was pressed, their goods seized for some debts of his, and she, with two small children, turned into the streets a-begging. It is a circumstance not to be forgotten, that she was very young (under nineteen), and most remarkably handsome. She went to a linen-draper’s shop, took some coarse linen off the counter, and slipped it under her cloak; the shopman saw her, and she laid it down: for this she was hanged. Her defence was (I have the trial in my pocket), “that she had lived in credit, and wanted for nothing, till a press-gang came and stole her husband from her; but since then, she had no bed to lie on; nothing to give her children to eat; and they were almost naked; and perhaps she might have done something wrong, for she hardly knew what she did.” The parish officers testified the truth of this story; but it seems, there had been a good deal of shop-lifting about Ludgate; an example was thought necessary; and this woman was hanged for the comfort and satisfaction of shopkeepers in Ludgate Street. When brought to receive sentence, she behaved in such a frantic manner, as proved her mind to be in a distracted and desponding state; and the child was sucking at her breast when she set out for Tyburn.’

LONDON, March 1849

* This was later updated to the below for the 1858 Library Edition:

After this mournful deprivation, I was, for a long time, ravenless. The kindness of another friend at length provided me with another raven; but he is not a genius. He leads the life of a hermit, in my little orchard, on the summit of SHAKESPEARE’S Gad’s Hill; he has no relish for society; he gives no evidence of ever cultivating his mind; and he has picked up nothing but meat since I have known him – except the faculty of barking like a dog.

#charles dickens #dickens #barnaby rudge #tumblr book club #books #victorian

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