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deniigi · 3 years

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Lando The Nosy Neighbor AU

Title: good fences make good neighbors

Summary: Modern AU based off the premise presented to me as ‘Han and Leia move into the same neighborhood and start a feud, only to eventually overthrow the local Homeowner’s Association.’

Relationships: Pot-farmer!Han/Lawyer!Leia; Farmboy!Luke/Survivalist!Din; Lando & Breha Organa & Chewbacca

This is based off a rural community in Washington which has local cults.

Lando POV

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A hippy has moved in next to the Organas.

It’s a good one, too. This one hasn’t even rented a moving truck, they’ve just come on over with all their furniture tetris-ed in on top of itself and wrapped tight with rope, blankets, and prayer.

Lando’s petunias screech for watering as the hippy throws open the truck’s door and comes staggering out, cracking his lanky back. Out of the other side comes an even hairier, even lankier person. He closes the truck door and looks right at Lando.

He stares.

It is a challenge. But of course, not one that Lando is not prepared to handle.

He points at his watering can.

Hippy Two seems to scoff.

Lando waits until he’s distracted by the first hippie struggling with the blue house’s doorknob to dump the remaining water into the pebbles under his ornamental bridge.

He returns inside and goes about his busy business, tying back the curtains.

It is always good to have someone new in the neighborhood.

It takes the hippy couple a few weeks to get settled into their new home, and in that time neither has ingratiated themselves to Lando.

The stupid one with the floppy hair caught onto Lando’s tricks at the weekly poker match held in the local bar. Lando may have lost his irrigation system, but he has not lost his dignity. It was old anyways. He’s been planning to replace it for nearly a year now. There is never a better time than the present to start making your dreams into reality.

And anyways, the floppy haired out-of-towner will get what is coming to him. Lando has already sown the seed of his demise.

Leia Organa returned home to look after her poor, sick, stubborn mother just two months ago. Breha is fine, of course, not even cancer could snuff out her fires, although she is bored of her husband and daughter trying to trap her indoors. Her immunocompromised escapades have been delightful to watch.

The Organas are always a lively group. There is never a dull moment or lack of machinations among them—especially the lady of the household. She, like Lando, appreciates a good tussle. Which is why he has pointed out to Leia that her new neighbors’ greenhouse is mighty interesting, is it not?

Lawyer Leia’s ears pricked up like a horse’s, and Breha’s sharp eyes took on new sheen.

Lando watches Leia in the mornings now, struggling to find upper-body strength and purchase on the wood of her backyard fence, among the roses and bougainvillea. She’s so tiny, Leia. Breha is not an overly large person either, and thus is no help in this endeavor to collect data on the greenhouse of questionable origins and purposes on the other side of the fence. Leia doesn’t need her, though. She needs no one. She’s seen what she needs to.

Lando pours tea from a glass pot given to him by someone in his company who wishes for their secrets to remain so and beautiful, clear amber liquid fills his cup.

He looks up to see Leia holding her phone out as far as she can without relinquishing her grip on the fence. She fumbles, trying one-handedly to document the crime before her, but alas. Even the mighty sometimes trip on the red carpet.

The phone slips. She grabs after it in slow-motion, horror filling every pore of her face.

It is gone now, that phone.

The Public Nuisances will know what she has been up to.

Lando sighs and leans back in his seat.

It is no time at all before the dropped phone is returned graciously over the white, waist-height fence that separates the Public Nuisance’s yard from the Organas’. Leia snatches her phone back and wipes it off with her hand and sleeve. The shorter public enemy, Han, he calls himself, smiles at her cheekily. He retracts his hand and gestures to the taller fence, barely visible for the fruit trees and vines, between their backyards and says something that makes Leia go very, very still.

It is, undoubtedly, a challenge. Not unlike the one that that the more polite public nuisance, Chewie, opened his and Lando’s relationship with.

Chewie has explained without mincing his words, that he and Han have come here because their last venture was lost in a snowstorm. Chewie will be damned if his precious seedlings are so callously frosted over again. The Pacific Northwest has no chance of freezing over, he says. It provides a better setting to grow stock.

Weed, he means. Marijuana. Chewie is again, not shy. He and Han make good money supplying dispensaries with their organic, hand dried leaves. It is apparently ‘artisan’ like in quality.

Lando isn’t sure he’d go that far, but yes, it is nice stuff. And yes, Leia, bastion of justice, does need to see the men’s permits.

Lando opens the window for a breeze and catches Han telling Leia that he’ll produce them if she arm wrestles him for the right to witness their authenticity. Leia agrees. Han fetches a small worktable from the house’s garage and sets it between them.

The match is over within seconds. Leia has never been so insulted in her life. She demands a rematch and, out of sheer indulgence, Han gives it to her.

He is nearly a foot taller than her. He could lift her up and over her own fence with ease if he so desired. He wins the next round. And the next one. He loses the last one by reason of having his leg deadened under the table but stands abruptly to renegade on his earlier promise.

“You watch yourself, princess,” he calls over his shoulder with his hand on his front door’s knob.

“Oh, I’ll be watching,” Leia snarls back.

Han slams the door. Chewie looks from him to Leia standing fuming in the shade of her family’s pine trees.

“Unbelievable,” she snaps at him before stomping off herself. “UNBELIEVABLE.”

Lando flicks his eyes up to see Breha’s dining room window wide open. She too, has a cup of tea. She lifts it his way and he lifts his back.

Finally, some quality entertainment once more.

Han and Leia’s hatred has become neighborhood gossip. They have begun going to extraordinary lengths to gain the others’ attention. For example, Han, in weeding his sparce flowerbeds, was careful to shove the fruits of his labor between the fence slats into Bail’s well-tended herb garden. Bail, ever the gentleman, does not mind, but of course Leia feels that her family honor has been spat upon. She collects the weeds and returns them to her owner, via mailbox. It is kind of her to put the flag down, so Han knows that he’s received a message.

The retaliation is a mural in rainbow colors commissioned by Han and painted by one of the budding young teenagers from a school about a thirty minute drive downtown. It is...psychedelic. And facing Leia’s bedroom window.

Han asked the youth who painted it to add in a figure in the center of the composition; it is a brown-haired woman dressed all in white, surrounded by thorny vines, and attempting to climb a fence. The young artist must have felt like Michelangelo in the application of those delicate strokes of artistry. They knew they were creating something holy.

Han helps that along by bracketing the figure with solar lanterns that light up at night and keep the image fully illuminated.

When Lando arrives to Breha’s side to go on a walk, arm in arm, with her and her beast of a terrier, she giggles like a schoolgirl behind her hand.

“Han is very handsome,” she tells Lando.

“He’s alright,” Lando says.

“I think he and Leia are a perfect match. Will for will. No one’s ever dared to cross her like this.”

Now that is a fact.

“I wonder if this is the start of something more,” Breha says.

“What does your husband think?” Lando asks.

Breha waves him off dismissively.

“Oh, you know. He’s convinced that Leia will kill Han in his sleep, and we will be forced to post bail, but I told him—as I’ve told you, Lando—Leia’s too smart to get caught committing axe murder. Now poisoning, that’s a different story.”

Lando wakes up and makes coffee. He turns on his computer and opens his curtains to let the light pour in and warm his hardwood floors. He stands at the window, hiding a smirk behind his mug.

Leia has had enough. She has called the Home Owner’s Association and they are standing at Han’s front doorstep.

It is about three weeks before Han and Leia have overthrown the Home Owner’s Association for interfering in their escalating romance—ahem—bloodfeud. By then, Lando’s work-from-home situation is suffering. It is impossible to focus with those two cluttering up his view with distractions left and right. He determines that, for the sake of his finances, he must direct his attention to something a little further afield.

The Lars’s vegetable stand is becoming something of an institution.

It’s about a mile or so out of Lando’s way, tucked smack in the middle of the battlefield that is the stretch of land between the survivalist cult that lives in the forest and the pseudo-Buddhists that live in their compound. The farm itself is a few acres and the Lars’s son can be seen walking around, herding livestock out of the road and into pastures.

Lando has heard whispers that this son is none other than Leia’s twin brother, but no one has the nerve to directly ask the Organas about the truth of such a scandalous idea. The most that can be said about Luke Lars-Skywalker is that he is a master of social media.

He has created a Youtube channel and an Instagram to document the practices of his family’s farm and the products they produce. He is in a twitter-war with many communities online for his videos on small-scale bee-keeping, and his family’s stand is proudly boycotted by the vegan association in the city on farmer’s market days.

It has become well-known among the farm-to-table restaurants in the city, though, and that is why Luke keeps on keeping on with his cows and his fowls and his silly camera holder.

But all that means little because Luke Lars-Skywalker is in love.

Anyone with eyes can see it.

He is in love with an ancestral enemy.

See, in this area there are not one, but two cults and naturally, they abhor and reject the others’ teachings. To the south are the pseudo-buddhist, clairvoyants who have fashioned themselves more or less as monks preoccupied with meditation, self-development, and a few fairly mystical beliefs among the rather terrifying devotion to martial arts. To the north are the survivalist whack-jobs who don’t believe in electricity or running water, but who are also, somehow, preoccupied with self development and a terrifying devotion to martial arts.

Both groups have publicly denounced the other as misguided extremists.

The rumors say that Luke and Leia’s biological father is one of the clairvoyants, and this is where the heart of the current delightful irony lays.

Luke Lars-Skywalker is in love with one of those survivalists.

Lando knows this because he has seen it with his very own eyes.

He took a trip a while back to purchase some greens from the vegetable stand and he was there for a little while, picking through the selection, when he looked up and saw Luke’s posture explode out of its lax boredom. Lando looked over his shoulder to see what Luke’s tan, freckled attention had latched onto and lo and behold.

It was a man. And not only a man, a man with a baby.

Luke stuffed knuckles into his mouth to keep from cooing as the father of the child nodded at him and meandered over to have a poke through the produce piled up on the stand. The baby, dressed carefully in layers of warm, water-resistant clothing, watched Luke right back. He smiled and grunted, waving his dark, stubby arms and Luke melted—literally collapsed into a fraction of his size behind the paystation.

The father, a white rugged guy with dark curly hair and a great deal of stubble, shifted the baby to his other arm. His worn, heavy clothing and the military-style canvas sack on his back marked him as one of the Cabin-In-the-Woods people.

Lando felt like he was watching a country romance flick in real life.

Luke gathered his courage and approached the dad and baby to ask if they were looking for anything in particular. The baby immediately held hands out to him. Luke asked the father if he could hold the little one. The father said ‘no.’

Lando nearly choked on his own spit.

“Oh, sorry buddy,” Luke said to the baby. “Daddy thinks I’m gonna eat you up.”

“He just got a bath.”

Luke gooey expression hardened in an instant.

“Excuse you. You sayin’ I’m dirty?” he asked. “You sayin’ I smell like horseshit?”

The father stared at Luke wordlessly.

“Pigshit,” he corrected.

“WHAT.”

Lando no longer needed only greens. He had to pick a cheese from this bountiful pile. Oh dear, so many to choose from.

“I said, you smell like pigshit. And he just got a bath,” the survivalist father said. “How much for the tomatoes?”

“Twenty a pound,” Luke said viciously.

“That’s steep.”

“There’s a discount for people who smell like pigshit.”

“You get a lot of those?”

“No, but I know how to wallow in the time between buyers.”

“Are you angry or something?”

“Take your damn tomatoes.”

“I didn’t pay yet—”

“Just take ‘em. Go. Go.”

“Twenty—?”

“Hey, Mr. Calrissian, that’ll be ten-fifty,” Luke said over the protests.

That was then. This is now. And Luke Lars-Skywalker has not let up on his tirade against this survivalist. Nor, it is important to note however, has the survivalist stopped coming to the vegetable stand when Luke is working it.

What is even more is that Lando can see with his own two eyes that the survivalist is not holding his baby at the vegetable stand now, as Lando closes his car door a little ways from the stand. Luke smiles at Lando as he draws near; he is bouncing at the knees. He waves the baby’s hand in greeting and the child gurgles and twists back to grab at his face.

Lando smiles and does not say anything.

He finds Chewie inspecting a sprinkler at the edge of his and Han’s yard on the way back and crosses the street to inspect it with him. It sputters. Chewie suspects outloud that their squirrels are getting stronger and more destructive by the day.

Lando asks him if he’s been the Lars’s vegetable stand since moving into town.

He has.

Lando asks if he’s ever seen Luke there, holding a baby.

He has.

Lando is smug.

“Mr. Rugged Mountain Man is falling for the farm boy,” he tells Chewie.

Chewie lifts a thick eyebrow.

“One day soon, that baby is going to go from living off the grid to living in a barn,” Lando tells him. “Mark my words.”

Chewie tells him that that is impossible without a kidnapping charge because the Rugged Mountain Man is the straightest man that he’s ever seen. Lando tells him not to judge a book by its cover.

Weirder things have happened. Han and Leia, for example.

Chewie tells him that he knows that Lando is somehow responsible for those two’s newly inescapable sexual tension and he will never forgive him for it.

Lando cannot believe his ears. Him? An instigator? Of course not, Chewie. He is but a humble spider, waiting around in his house for a fly to shake things up. He is an observer, nothing more, nothing less.

Chewie just points a finger at him.

Lando points a finger-gun back. He fires it with a click of his tongue.

#star wars #han/leia #dinluke #lando calrissian #fic #ficlet #don't mind me I'm just thinking about petty neighborhood politics

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5ummit · 3 years

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Where has this view come from that Tumblr is really poor and can barely afford their servers? I don't get it and there's never any sources to these claims just vague guilt tripping. Seriously like, everything I see is Tumblr doing fine, so many more adverts (that they added with no report function designed to be more disruptive to they could then make money from ads and sell you an option to remove some of them), more sponsorships, more data tracking, why do people think paying pocket-change is keeping tumblr afloat. Also the comparisons of this to Ao3 or other donation style services, which just makes me want to cry at the absurdity of it.

It seriously feels like Tumblr has Stockholmed it's users overnight? Why does everyone think tumblr is poor and they alone are keeping it alive?? I'm asking seriously because I keep seeing these posts about it with huge support and I'm like ,, noO, nothing here makes sense??

I don't know if you're just young or really that naive to think a website like tumblr – one of the last bastions of completely anonymous social media that's not designed from the ground up to monetize and datamine every click and interaction – is going to be around forever if the users don't help support it in some way and prove that it's worth keeping around.

Nobody said that tumblr is currently poor and for sure can't afford their servers. I don't know their official financial status right now, but the fact of the matter is there's almost no way tumblr is worth the cost it takes to run it anymore from an investor POV and it has been steadily losing value for the last 8 years, going from a valuation of $1 BILLION to just $3 million the last time it was sold. That's not the valuation of a company that people think is profitable and going to be around much longer.

Servers are NOT cheap and this isn't even AO3 where most of the content is text-based and therefore takes up relatively little space for the number of users and amount of content generated. We're talking about gifs and images and videos, hundreds of thousands added daily on top of all of the old content which is still around and accessible going back to its inception (14+ years). This takes up a LOT of space and somebody has to pay for that space, whether it's investors, advertisers, or users.

No one wants to invest in tumblr anymore and no one wants advertise here... and why would they? It can't be generating much of a return when the userbase is mostly made up of teenagers and adults who are barely scraping by. There's no brand interaction, there's no influencers, and everyone here is actively hostile towards any type of monetization (case in point: yourself). Also, the more people leave tumblr and the smaller the userbase becomes, the harder it's going to be for tumblr to sell advertising spots since advertisers can reach larger, more receptive, more targeted audiences elsewhere (remember tumblr doesn't know your name, age, ethnicity, gender, marital status, etc – all that good data used to sell you things).

Like it or not, tumblr is a business and it's got to get its money somewhere if they want to keep the lights on. You say there's no way users could possibly keep tumblr afloat with "pocket change" but if even 0.5% of tumblr's supposed 15 million users decided to pay the subscription to get rid of ads and help support a website they love, that would bring in $325k a MONTH, which I wouldn't exactly call pocket change.

Nobody is forcing you to pay the subscription. I don't even pay for it right now since I have adblock and haven’t seen an ad in 10 years. But to actively discourage other people from supporting the company and proving that they think it's worth keeping around just because "monetization bad" is not helpful in the slightest.

#asked #tumblr #my words

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carriagelamp · 4 years

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Art of Aardman

I found myself a cheap copy of the Shaun the Sheep movie, so I was rewatching a bunch of Aardman films earlier this month and decided to hunt down some books too. For anyone that doesn’t know, Aardman is a British stop-motion studio that does fantastic work like Wallace and Gromit, Shaun the Sheep, Chicken Run, Early Man… tons of cool stuff. They’re always quirky and funny and warm-hearted. This was just a very nice art book for anyone that’s a fan of Aardman stop motion and wants to see a bit extra; it shows some cool concept art and blows up the neat details in Aardman work, especially in their intricate stuff like The Pirates! In an Adventure with Scientists!

Asterix and the Picts (Asterix and the Chariot Race, and How Obelix Fell Into The Magic Potion)

I decided to try a couple of the new Asterix comics that were done by the new team, just to see if they stand up to the old ones (that and How Obelix Fell Into The Magic Potion cause I’d never read that one before). They were pretty decent! Asterix and the Picts was my favourite of the two though I wouldn’t say either are going to contest for my favourite Asterix comic... but still! The art looks good and the stories felt like what I would expect, they made for a pleasant couple evenings of reading especially since it’s been so long since I’ve read a new Asterix comic. If you’ve never read Asterix it’s one of the biggest name French comic series in North America, as far as I know and very worth the read. It’s about a single Gaulish village that’s holding out against the invading Romans through sheer force of will, slapstick hijinks, and a magical super-strength potion brewed by their druid. Lots of fantastic visuals and cute wordplay, even in the English translations.

Bear

I found out about this bastion of Canadian literature via tumblr post that was losing its collective mind over the fact that some bizarre bear-based erotica novella somehow won the most prestigious literary prize available in Canada. Since I too found this hilarious and unspeakably bizarre I had to give it a read, obviously. And yes, the flat surface level summary is... a librarian moves out into rural Ontario and falls in love with a literal for-real not-supernatural-not-a-joke bear. And I have to say… it is actually worthy of an award, which I was not expecting given that I was there for a laugh. It has beautiful writing, and the subtextual story is pretty interesting… it kind of makes me think of The Haunting of Hill House actually in terms of themes. (Womanhood, personhood, independence, autonomy partially achieved through escaping the male gaze by claiming non-human lovers... listen if I were still in university I would right a paper comparing the two novels).

I dunno man, it’s fucking weird. Actually a well-written book, but sure is about a woman falling in love with a literal bear. Give it a read if you want something bonkers but like… high-brow bonkers.

Hunger Pangs: True Love Bites

Best book I have read in like… a while. A long while. I am not a fast reader, and I consumed 90% of this book over a weekend. It’s not at all like Terry Pratchett, but at the same time it scratched an itch for me that I haven’t had satisfied since Pratchett’s death. A very clever, hilariously funny poly romance between a disabled werewolf, an anxious vampire lord, and an incredibly powerful woman, with heaps of social satire, political commentary, and sinister undertones. The whole thing reads a bit like fanfiction and I say that in the most flattering way possible -- it is so easy to jump right in and be immediately taken over by the characters and the world and the plot, you never feel like you’re fighting to engage even though the world-building is fascinating and expansive. It welcomes you in right away, it was the book equivalent of a quilt and a hug which is something I sorely needed with all this pandemic bullshit. If you read any of the books on this list, go read that one while I sit here in pain waiting for the sequel.

Kid Paddle

I watched the cartoon of Kid Paddle as a kid and was thinking about it recently, so I decided to hunt down some of the original comics online. They’re fun and weird, with a cute art style and fantastic monsters designs. (My favourites are always about Kid either daydreaming or playing games that involve Midam’s weird warty troll creatures. It’s like a cross between Calvin and Hobbes and Foxtrot with the fun sort of quirks that I love in Belgian comics. Unfortunately, unlike Asterix, I’ve only come across these ones in French, but if you can read French it’s totally worth popping over to The Internet Archive and reading the ones they have available.

The Last Firehawk: The Golden Temple

The lastest Firehawk book. Despite being written for quite young readers, I did enjoy the early books in this series quite a bit. They’re about a young owl and squirrel who found an egg for a magical species that was believed to be extinct. With the newly hatched firehawk, the three of them head off on a mission to find an ancient firehawk magic that could save the entire forest. Very basic adventure story but a good intro to the tropes for children. Unfortunately the quality really feels like it drops with each subsequent book; this will probably be the last one I bother reading.

Lumberjanes: The Moon Is Up

I honestly think I enjoy these Lumberjanes novels even more than the comics just because it really gives time to delve into each story and examine how the camper are really thinking and feeling about everything. (Also I’m always weak for novelizations of anything.) The Moon Is Up is a book that focuses more on Jo, and takes place during the camp’s much anticipated Galaxy Wars, a competition between cabins that goes over several days. While the campers prepare for these challenges though, they also run into a strange little creature with a penchant for cheese and theft. Roanoke cabin needs to keep ahead in Galaxy Wars and somehow deal with the fearsome Moon Pirates that a closing in...

Lumberjanes v4 (Out Of Time)

One of the Lumberjanes comics, a cool, girl-focused, queer comic series. Honestly, this is just a fun series that I never got as into as I should have. My advice is honestly to skip book one because it gets better as it continues, and I’ve really been enjoying the later books now that I’ve given it another go. It follows five campers at Miss Qiunzella Thiskwin Penniquiqul Thistle Crumpet’s Camp for Hardcore Lady Types (Jo, April, Molly, Mal, and Ripley) as they handle all sorts of challenges, from friendship to crushes, camp activities to supernatural horrors, getting badges to not being brutally killed. Great if you liked the vibe of Gravity Falls but want it to be queer-er.

Mooncakes

Another queer graphic novel, but unfortunately not a very good one. It really looked appealing and I had high hopes, but the book itself really didn’t hold up… I actually couldn’t even finish it, the plot was just too… non-existent. The art is fairly mediocre once you actually look at it, especially backgrounds, and it feels very… placid. Not much conflict or excitement or even a very compelling reason to keep reading. If you just want a soft queer supernatural you may get more mileage out of it than me, but it didn’t really do it for me. There’s better queer graphic novels out there.

New Boy In Town

One of the worst books I have ever read. My girlfriend had ordered a very different book online but through a frankly stupendous error was sent this 1980s pulp romance instead. Absolutely nauseating on levels I couldn’t even begin to enumerate here. Naturally we read the whole thing out loud. Probably took us 10 times longer to finish than it warranted because I had to stop every two sentences to lose my mind. If you like bad decisions, baffling hetero courting rituals, built-in cultural Christianity without actually calling it that, and gold panning then boy howdy is this the book for you.

(seriously, you better have patience for gold-panning if you attempt this one, because I sure learn that I don’t)

Piggies

This was a picture book I enjoyed as a kid and had a reason to reread recently. Honestly it’s just very cute and simple, and the art is completely mesmerizing. Wonderful if you know a young child that would enjoy a simple goofy boardbook.

Shaun the Sheep: Tales From Mossy Bottom

Related to my Aardman fascination earlier this month. I tried reading a varieties of Shaun the Sheep books — most of which are mediocre at best — but the Tales From Mossy Bottom Farm series is genuinely good. Just chapter books, of course, but the illustrations match the series’ concept art and each story feels like it could have jumped directly out of an episode. They’re just cute and feel-good! Kinda like Footrot Flats but more for kids, and from the sheep’s perspective moreso than the dog’s.

#aardman animation #shaun the sheep #lumberjanes #kid paddle #asterix #the last firehawk #hunger pangs: true love bites #marian engel #bear #canadian literature #canlit #queer lit #book review #book reviews #chatter

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scribble-games · 4 years

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Scenario ask regarding everyone’s favorite evil spy! F! Angel and 180 run into each other on assignment at a fancy ball and end up dancing. what can I say, I love me my tropes.

This got way longer than it was supposed to be, and also I was having trouble ending it so it does end a bit abruptly. But I hope you like it!

---

The music changes, and an irresistible idea comes to your mind. "Care to dance?" You stretch out your hand - an invitation, a challenge.

She takes it. You knew she would.

---

Music drifts across the driveway from the open double doors. Behind you, a valet drives away with your car, leaving you to make your way towards the house. You have to hold your skirts up, picking your way daintly across the gravel. The dress is huge, and the panniers took some time to get used to moving in them, but they have their advantages. You feel like you could stow a rocket launcher under this skirt. Not that you've gone quite that far.

Some guests are lingering outside; Abraham Lincoln deep in conversation with a Greek philosopher, and as you politely squeeze past the philosopher laughs and says, "Got any cake?"

Inside, you are ushered into an anteroom, where you take a moment to exchange niceties with your hostess, an excitable Elizabeth I. Thankfully, there are a lot of people wanting to talk to her, and you are able to slip away again after a moment, alert for your target.

There he is, in the rather cheap Caesar costume, waving a wineglass around to punctuate his conversation. You sigh. He's hard enough to put up with when he isn't drunk. But, the mission is what is it. You move in. Smile. Talk. Learn enough to know that you're going to have wait until later to get to what you want. At least that means you won't have to stick this close to him all night, but you hate waiting. How boring.

You're heading to the buffet table, when the crowd parts, a tall woman in top hat and tails turns, and your eyes meet her blue ones with a moment of mutal shock.

Shock gives way to calculation, and then a rueful smile. You're sure your own face shows the same journey of emotion. You both begin moving at the same time, meeting in the middle.

Angel's suit is monochrome, and though not revealing or overly tight, it follows the lines of her body closely, making her legs look even longer. The top hat sits at a jaunty angle on her head; her hair is scraped back, emphasizing her cheekbones. She takes in your costume with wry amusement. "Marie Antoinette? Bien, ç'est charmant."

"Merci," you say, inclining your head, infusing your voice with a ton of sugar and an ounce of venom. "How nice to see you."

"Shouldn't you curtsy?"

"I'm the queen," you say, locking eyes with her, your lips curving into a deliberate, challenging smile. "Shouldn't you kneel?"

Delight flashes in her eyes. "Careful, chérie. You know what the French do to queens."

"And who are you supposed to be?"

She gestures at her suit and gives a theatrical shrug. "A historical figure, can’t you tell? Honestly, I already had this in my wardrobe. It was a last minute invitation."

"Oh really? And who were you invited by?"

"A friend," she says lightly. "And you? Or are you here for me?" It's said like a joke, but her eyes remain on you and there's a tension in her jaw.

"Believe it or not, there are more important things in the world than you." Even as you say it you're wondering whether what you see on her face is an act. Is she here because of your mission, and the surprise just an illusion?

Of course, you have to stick with her and find out now, don't you? Alas, you literally have no choice. Such a shame.

The music changes, and an irresistible idea comes to your mind. "Care to dance?" You stretch out your hand - an invitation, a challenge.

She takes it. You knew she would.

"Who's leading?"

You didn't mind until she asked the question, but now you have to say, "Me."

Her smile widens.

You step close to her, take a breath of her perfume, and trail your fingers up her spine to her waist. She brushes her hand ever-so-lightly across the skin bared by the neckline of your dress before resting it on your shoulder. You're not looking up to meet her eyes, but you can feel her gaze on you, like you always can. Like you just stepped into a spotlight. And you're about to give one hell of a show.

You notice she's not so sure of the steps at first, glancing down at your feet to copy your movements, but she picks it up quickly. Of course, that means you have to up the ante. You break apart from her, your skirts flaring out around you, and lock your right arm with hers. She picks up your intent immediately, and you circle around each other before moving apart for a breath, fingertips stretched out, just touching.

"So I have a question," she says. "Not about work, just a little curiosity I have, you know." She spins elegantly back into your arms, once again close enough for you to feel the heat from her body.

"Yes?" you say, wary.

"I heard once that with the old-style dresses," she says, leaning in still closer, her head lowered into the curve of your neck, "to make it easier for the ladies to use the toilet, they would not wear anything underneath." Her breath caresses your ear. You can hear the grin in her voice. "So I'm just wondering... how accurate is the costume?"

You concentrate very, very hard on the next few steps, and manage to not trip over your feet. It doesn't help that your brain decides at that moment to make you very aware of her hand in yours, and all the things you know she can do with those hands...

But then, warns a last bastion of common sense, you really don't want her finding out what gear you actually have hidden under these skirts.

"You really want to know?" you say, lowering your voice seductively.

"Mm-hmm."

"First, tell me why you're really here."

"That's it?"

"To start with."

"Mostly, it's just a social event. There's people I need to keep contact with, in case I need them for the future."

It sounds plausible enough. There are faces in the crowd you recognise. The coincidence is possible, given the circles you're both running in. The question is, how much overlap is there between the people you know and the ones Angel knows? She'll never give away the details; there's no point in even asking. Really, just as long as your Caesar isn't mixed up in her business, it shouldn't be a problem, right?

"Satisfied?" she purrs. "So, what are you really doing here?"

You consider an outright lie, but it feels unfair to her. That's not how your game goes.

"Honestly? If I told you, I'd have to kill you."

She gives a soft laugh. "You'd have to try." You move together for a few more bars in silence, then she says, "You know there are people here who are protected?"

"Give me a list of them, and I'll try to avoid any clashes," you say dryly.

"You know what I'm saying."

"I do," you reply with a sigh. The music winds to an end, and you both come to a stop. "Business before pleasure, I suppose?"

"Why not both?" she says, and leans in to kiss your cheek. "Come find me if you want to get in more trouble." She adjusts her hat, flashes you one more brilliant smile, and then just before the dancers around you start to move again, threads neatly through them and is gone.

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missbrunettebarbie · 3 years

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I was tagged by both @laufire and @nectargrapes Thank u! ^-^

The Game: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favourite opening line. Then tag some authors!

I hope published story count, otherwise this is gonna be waaaay too short. And, well, I want publicity.

1. The full moon looked regal and lonely on the clear sky, an all seeing-eye that had been worn down by the horrors of the world below. Its warm yellow glow was sickly in Laura's eyes. The young girl felt just as old and tired as the celestial orb that had guarded humanity since the begining of time. (Untitled Filial Revenge WIP with vampires, because why not)

2. The social worker squeezed the child’s shoulder in reassurance. It didn’t work, but Lana White has worked for CPS for long enough to know that the kind of damage done to a child the Williams case presented could only be undo in years and with the help of a lot of people. ( Untitled Kyle/Paige, Charmed fanfic)

3. Nefele’s night would have been perfect if the room wasn’t so hot and crowdie. One would think the Stellarion’s family ball would be a more exclusive affair, but the list of guests had been bigger than she had expected. (Vanitas Vanitatum, original story)

4. The Priscilla Calabria Academy of Magic, or the Academy as it was known in most of Italy (unique in its power and prestige) was as imposing as one would expect from the bastion of knowledge that had not only survived centuries, but also thrived across the centuries. Even in the days when magic was almost banished, the clergy disliking and fearing the witches and warlocks that gained more and more power every day, the Academy had endured only to come out of the struggle as one of the most sought after magic schools in all of Europe. (Pandora's Key, original story)

5. The snow was cold under her knees, but it did nothing to put out the fire in the young mother's heart. (Untitled Pandora's Key Prequel, original story)

6. Everyone told her how lucky she was for surviving her fall, but she truly felt lucky when they told her that her fiancé died three moons after. While Viserra was still waiting for her cracked ribs and broken leg to heal, the elderly Lord Manderly died of a chill. (After the dust, before the snow; Viserra Targaryen lives ASOIAF fanfic on AO3)

7. Caroline Forbes considered herself a pretty open-minded person. Yet when her stoic father told her, with a straight face, that vampires are real and he, himself, is a vampire hunter, she should be forgiven for bursting out laughing. She had lived with Bill Forbes since her parents had gotten divorced a few years ago, and she had never thought him capable of cracking a joke. (We burn with holy fire; Klaroline TVD fanfic on AO3).

8. Zatanna really shouldn’t be here. She really, really shouldn’t. After all Batman himself had forbidden her, Conner and M’Gann from going to their school field trip in Gotham. In her defense, she would have listened to him if he had given her an actual reason, not just “Too dangerous”. (We'll laugh about this one day; Zatanna/Dick Young Justice fanfic on AOS)

9. Klaus wanted to kill someone, slowly and painfully, and all because of the news he got. And he would have killed the messenger if said messenger wasn’t the enchanting Caroline Forbes, headmistress of the Salvatore School for the Young and Gifted, and the object oh his affection for a decade and a half right now. (Everything I want, all at once; Klaus-Hope TVD fanfic on AO3)

10. Garfield is not afraid. He is a superhero turned tv star, fear is not something he feels easily. Yet, when he looks in those big blue trusting eyes, a similar emotion rises in the put of his stomach. (One of a kind; Garfield Logan Young Justice fanfic on AO3)

11. It was a rare sight to see Albus Dumbledore going into shock. The defeater of Grindelwand, Master of the Elder Wand, Supreme Mugwamp, Chief Warlock and Headmaster of Hogwarts was a hard person to surprise. Yet, right now he look like he might have a heart attack. (Your heart's desire; Regulus/Lily HP fanfic on AO3)

12. Lizzie’s head hurt. Tears were pouring down her face while the genie’s voice still echoed in her ears. (Worlds apart; Lizzie + Klaroline fanfic on AO3)

13. Corlys Velaryon was many things: a lord, a husband, a father, a sailor, a warrior, but he was no coward. Until now. (The dragons of Driftmark; pre-canon ASOIAF fanfic on AO3)

14. Caroline felt the air leave her lungs. Alaric was dead. Dead. Killed by the Heretics because of one of Damon's stupid plans. And now the children she carried had no one in this world. No one but her. (Smile, tomorrow will be better; Klaroline TVD fic on ff.net)

15. The first thing Caroline noticed when she woke up was that the bed was too soft. She kept her eyes shut and tried to inhale the Virginia Air, but the only thing she felt was a sweet and intoxicating smell that reminded her of hotel rooms. (First meeting (second time) Klaroline TVD fanfic on ff.net- also my first fic ever, so not very good)

Patterns: I think I like to start with an insight into the character's head and go from there. I also care about the setting, the mood etc. more if it's an original story then if it's fanfiction.

Favourites: Well, 1 because it's the newest. Laura is to blame for its existence and it shows: the main character is named after her . 5 also has a special place in my heart. From the fanfics, I really like 7 and 11.

Idk who is and isn't a writer anymore, so: @donnas-troia @legendsofamultishipper @mydaylight @writingonesdreams @awinterrain @the-phoenix-heart @dragonsaredorks @xxlionheartedgirlxx and anyone who wants, really.

#writing #my thoughts #fanfiction #original writing

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swiftlythebest · 4 years

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In Defense of Lake Meriwether

All right, strap in folks, we’re discussing an unpopular opinion! Lake Meriwether is not a bad character and she goes through some realistic growth. Additionally, she and Felix are shown good development and I ship it. Yikes, lots of unpopular opinions in so few sentences.

Sidenote before I delve into everything: there is certainly a danger in media made for children and young adults being looked at through the lens of someone not in that target audience. I am 26, meaning the way I’m going to consume media differs from that of a teenager, especially considering that we’re apparently in different generations (which is weird, but that’s a whole other story). All of that is to say that I am an adult talking about a piece of media made for teenagers by older adults. It’s complicated, and I am in no way claiming that what I have to say is universally correct.

This whole whatever it is ended up being really long, so I’ll put it under a cut. Also, I know a lot of people probably won’t want to read it.

Sense of Identity

First of all, let’s keep in mind that Lake is 15/16. I have no idea how old people reading this post are, but if you’re older than 16, and out of high school, try to remember how you were at that age. Your brain hasn’t fully developed and much of your sense of self comes from interactions with your family and peers, not so much the world at large. That’s certainly altered by the widespread reach of social media, but someone that age is still navigating identity and their place in the world with limited experience. We can’t expect a girl who has grown up in a privileged bubble to be a bastion of morality. We can’t hold her to the same standard we would a full-fledged adult. She acts like a typical 15/16 year old who is insecure and trying to hide it while living in the shadow of her best friend.

And hey, it’s true, Lake is primarily known as Mia’s best friend. Mia is described by Felix as the hottest girl in their grade and loved by everyone. Mia has the affection of the cute new boy, as well as the popular jock that Lake initially likes. I’m glad they don’t fall into the trap of making that friendship toxic and unbalanced, which is so often the case. I think within their friendship, they are very much equals who love and value each other. But to the public, Mia is more liked than Lake, and she is definitely at least somewhat aware of that. Lake is not Summer Roberts or Lydia Martin in the sense that she is not viewed as a highly desired person in the same way those other two characters are; she is viewed that way by the nerdy love interest, but not the student population as a whole. There are definitely parallels to be made with Summer and Lydia (Summer especially when you consider the intense similarities between Lake’s speech about public couples being scrutinized and Summer’s incredibly similar speech to Seth in Season 1), but that’s not one of them.

Lake’s mom sucks. It’s clear that Lake has grown up in a household where her every move was judged and she was made to see more flaws in herself than she had. Think about how that must have affected her psyche and pressured her into believing that who she was to the public was what truly mattered. That’s ingrained in her. We see that almost immediately with her being obsessed with Creek Secrets and trying to make herself more appealing to Andrew at the party. I’m not sure she knows who she actually is, just who she’s been molded to be. She wants approval and in the beginning, it’s clear she really only gets that from Mia and Felix, albeit, the latter is from afar.

Importance of Friendship

Once she and Mia begin to hang out with Victor and Felix, she begins to shift. We do see it even before when she confronts Andrew at the Battle of the Bands, showing us that she at least in some way knows her worth, but I’m not sure how much at that point. Victor and Felix add a new dynamic to her friendship with Mia and give her more people to genuinely think she’s great and make that known to her. While she’s still clearly insecure, we can see that start to chip away. When she impresses them with her excuses, something she’s likely only done to Mia so far, you can see how their approval makes her light up. And Felix’s compliment is quite possibly the first step towards her developing feelings for him.

DJ F Bomb on the Track

So we’ve now arrived to the Felix of it all. I want to say that I absolutely love Felix. I think he’s funny and sweet and a great friend; he was my favorite right off the bat and that opinion was only reinforced as the series progressed. Our first introduction to Felix is outside of whatever image he has at school and with his peers. We are told about his status as an outcast by him a few scenes after we’ve gotten to know him, so we already have formed our opinion of him beyond his public image. We know he’s quirky and anxious, but it comes across as endearing; the audience doesn’t know that his unique personality is not the main thing working against him. To Lake, and a vast majority of his peers, he’s Lonestone, an awkward and weird boy who doesn’t fit in and has a truly unfortunate nickname and reputation. We don’t have five years of taunting to affect how we view him. The audience view of Felix versus his peers’ view is important to distinguish when talking about why Lake is so hesitant.

Felix initially comes on too strong. He recognizes that in Episode 7 and, with the help of Pilar, he learns to back off a bit. The angler fish speech is sweet, but was I the only one a little put off by how obsessive it sounded? He’s saying someone should sacrifice everything for the one they love, which is a lovely sentiment in a fairytale, but a bit much when you’re 16. His growth isn’t as explicit as hers, but he still does have to soften his approach in order to really make it work. And I want to be clear that while Felix is definitely a better person than Lake, I’d caution to say he’s a better character, in the sense of complexity and growth. I like him more, as I think pretty much everyone does, but Lake is a layered character with logical development, which shouldn’t be overlooked because you may not like her as a person.

It’s supposed to be Felix for her. We as an audience, as well as Felix, know it when she says the same thing he said about DJs in episode 3. She catches on a couple of episodes later after they steal the cake, but she’s clearly in denial. Lake likes Felix. And she seems to like him more and more as the season progresses. But he doesn’t fit into that perfect image she has spent so long cultivating and trying to maintain, so she’s having to come to terms with that throughout their relationship. When she shoots him down for the dance after seeing his apartment, you know she doesn’t want to. It’s clearly killing her to say it, but she’s not there yet. And Felix knows his worth so he ends it, which also clearly kills her.

She told him upfront that no one could know, and she repeats it a lot. He can walk away if he’s not comfortable with that, and we do see him almost do that in episode 8, until she tells Mia. He’s right to want to revisit that part of their relationship around the dance, and especially after baring his soul to her at his apartment. He’s right to break it off when, after such an emotional afternoon for them, she still won’t be seen with him. He’s right to accept an invitation from another girl. His reaction is completely valid.

She doesn’t expect to be jealous at the dance because she thinks it’s the natural progression of things. Kieran is the kind of boy she always saw herself with: a popular jock. And then he’s boring. He talks about working out and fantasy football and it’s boring. She can’t be herself with him. Then there’s Felix, at the dance with another girl who seems to make much more sense paired with him. He’s wearing a goofy ruffled shirt and joking about the smell of his hair and telling Lake he just wants her to be happy. I think she needed to see that what she thought she wanted she actually didn’t, and also that the boy she liked genuinely cared about her as a person, not just an object of desire. He makes her happy, something I’m not sure she had fully admitted to herself until that moment. And yeah, the big public declaration of love is a huge cliche and overdone and all that, but it works so very well in visual media.

Conclusion?

Look, all of this mess is to say that Lake is not a bad person, nor is she a bad character. We all latched onto Felix pretty quickly, so naturally, our standards for him were going to be sky-high. But in a show of tropes, this relationship was obvious from the start. Lake felt authentic, like a scared teenage girl navigating her self-esteem, public image, overbearing mother, and falling for someone unexpected all at the same time. She grows and develops, learning to go for what truly makes her happy, not what she thinks should make her happy.

TL;DR: Lake is a complex, realistic portrayal of an insecure teenage girl with an overbearing mother, who spends a lot of time in her best friend’s shadow. She’s in denial of her true feelings for Felix for a while, going so far as to sabotage something she knows is good and right in order to continue to feel secure. By the last episode, she has grown and learned enough to understand her own autonomy when it comes to her happiness. We should all cut her a little bit of slack and let the immature 16-year-old be immature and 16, while learning how to be just a bit more mature.

#love victor #lake love victor #lake meriwether #felix/lake #felix weston #felix westen #long post #i have opinions and you're all welcome to ignore them #love victor spoilers

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theunvanquishedzims · 4 years

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Calming my post-election anxiety with sweet sweet logic

So Trump is a wannabe dictator with crazy screaming fans who are headed toward violent armed meltdowns. What’s to stop him from going full dictator and refusing to leave office?

I’m glad you asked!

You see, the major difference between wannabe dictators and actual dictators is ALLIES. Dictators are surrounded with tight security, aided by the military, cheered on by media that they control, and are either helped, encouraged, or just ignored by other countries with the power to stop them.

Trump has charged the Secret Service money for the privilege of protecting him and his family since day one. You remember the first year, when his wife and son refused to move to the White House so the Secret Service had to RENT FLOORS in TRUMP’S BUILDING to be close to them? And how his extended family went globetrotting and the Secret Service had to accompany them? And when Trump himself insisted on hosting people at his golf club, he made the Secret Service RENT GOLF CARTS from TRUMP’S CLUB to follow him while he went golfing?

The end result was that halfway through the first year of his presidency, the Secret Service could not pay their own wages. Because half their yearly budget had gone straight to Trump’s pockets. And that’s just financially. I think we all remember how the White House came down with Covid and Trump still insisted on Secret Service agents driving him around to wave at people. He has not been kind to the people who are sworn to protect him. These people have had a front-row seat to his circus since 2016. When the time comes from Trump to leave the White House and Biden to take over, I doubt they’ll betray the country out of loyalty to Trump. If anything, they’ll be the ones to drag him out.

As for the military, Trump insulted and fired four generals from his administration staff. He said on multiple occasions that soldiers who get captured or killed are suckers and losers. He refused to visit a cemetery to honor the dead because it was raining. He tries to pander to the military by massive increases in defense spending, but that money goes to capitalists who make weapons and war technology, not the soldiers or veterans. (He also hypocritically accused military officials of being in bed with those same companies.) In a poll of 1000 service members 50% said they disliked Trump. Overall, he doesn’t act like a leader, and the way he skirts responsibility (like taking charge during the pandemic) doesn’t appeal to a group that functions on trust in their leadership.

A proper dictator would have spent the last four years cozying up to his generals and making sure they knew the financial and social benefits of answering to him personally, not the office of the President. And while Trump did adhere to the adage “find a foreign foe” to unite people against, he badly misjudged what most US citizens consider “foreign.” He hasn’t found a villain that we would root for the military taking down, and the people he targets (Latinx, Blacks, immigrants, and people in countries our military has already devastated) are not a minority he can turn the majority of the country against, especially with how many of the former two serve in the military themselves. When the time comes for him to leave office, the military might be the first to cut ties with the wannabe Dictator-in-Chief.

Now, the media. They’ve been treating him like a joke candidate since day one, but after he was actually elected and took office they’ve started to take him more seriously. He’s gotten his catchphrase “fake news!” to catch on, but that doesn’t change the fact that under his administration news reporters have been harassed, illegally arrested, and generally poorly treated by Trump, especially if they’re women. He’s trashed talked everyone, with Fox News being the last bastion of semi-legitimate news that openly supports him (and their credibility has taken a big hit over it.)

Despite this support, in recently months Trump has been increasingly dumping on Fox, even throwing the mediator they provided for the debate under the bus, and risking alienating them in the process. If his supporters listen to him and start considering Fox part of Big Fake News, it might possibly be the death of Fox, leaving most of his supporters adrift and isolated from their source of right-wing news, and sending the more extreme fringes into the arms of conspiracy theory websites. (I’m not saying this is bad, being cut off from Fox and its toxic stream of “information” can actually help rehabilitate the right.)

Honestly, I don’t think Trump ever had a shot at controlling the media like a dictator would, mainly because of social media. He’s in love with attention, and Twitter has provided him a nonstop stream of it. No other President has threatened, insulted, promoted, or hinted at war over social media the way Trump has, and he gets so much direct feedback and interaction with the public and the world as a result. He could have leveraged that by buying the company (through a shell corporation, obviously) and setting it up as The One True Source of Information, manipulating public perception of him and his administration by keeping a tight grip on what information he let out.

But he’s just. Not. That. Clever. He blurts out everything that crosses his mind, leaving his administration to play clean-up on his messes, put out fires he keeps pouring gasoline on, and claim he’s joking when everyone knows he’s testing the limits on what he can get away with saying. He took advantage of the direct communication with legions of supporters, but seemed to forget that his detractors had equal access and would absolutely call him out on things he definitely said, it’s right there on his Twitter account, they have the Tweet pulled up on their phone right now. Instead of operating a single state-run media outlet while crushing all free press and limiting internet access like other dictators, he’s mooned the world’s cameras and acted surprised when they put his saggy butt on tv. “Fake news! That’s not my butt! THIS is my butt! [image attached]” he tweets. “Twitter is so biased, they haven’t censored any of Sleepy Joe’s photos!” he later tweets.

And lastly. The key to a dictatorship’s success. To prevent outside intervention, the country a dictator runs must be unimportant and ignored, wealthy and well-connected, or scary and well-armed. Minor warlords are the former, Putin is the latter, Trump might have weaseled his way into being the middle. But at the end of the day, America’s whole thing is new leadership every four years. It was revolutionary to replace a lineage of kings and queens stretching generations with a non-royal elected leader who only held office for four to eight years, but we’ve stuck to that for 200 years and everyone’s used to it by now. It would take a charismatic and powerful person to move the American people towards abolishing such a basic tenant of our democracy, and despite the mob mentality that lead a small portion of his supporters to chant “sixteen more years!” in the heat of the moment, Trump is not that charismatic. He’s not that smart. He’s not that well-connected. He’s not that savvy. He’s not that good at politics. And he’s not that powerful.

(I was going to say something here about him being the laughingstock of the world’s leaders and shouldn’t expect any outsiders to help him stay in power, especially since his tax returns came out and showed he owes people a ton of money that he doesn’t have, but this post is long enough so let’s cut to the chase.)

Trump is a greedy, small-minded man that has clung to power by appealing to the worst in humanity and scraping away at the best. But he hasn’t succeeded. He’s a sad old man who will say anything to be loved, and I don’t think he even knows what love is, so he’ll settle for attention. He doesn’t have money, he doesn’t have an army, and the only allies he has are using him as a political pawn to further their own interests. They will cut him loose the minute he stops being useful.

Now, the bad part: crazy screaming fans. Fringe groups on the internet. Mobs chanting “sixteen more years!” Men with guns and bombs and kidnapping plots, men trying to get into voting centers to destroy the election, men driving trucks with black flags that say FUCK YOUR FEELINGS, TRUMP 2020 (available on Amazon for $11.99, I wish I was joking.) I have no idea how many people in this country genuinely love Trump. It is hopefully significantly less than voted for him. There are some big issues in this country that are make-or-break, and unfortunately by reason of running Republican Trump has aligned himself with some of them.

There are people who hate everything about Trump, but he put a pro-life judge on the Supreme Court so they’re voting for him. There are people who are uncomfortable with Trump, but they’ve forgiven their grandpa for saying worse at Thanksgiving dinner, so they’ll vote for him. There are people who don’t know a single thing about Donald Trump, but they see (Republican) next to his name on the ballot, so they vote for him. None of that means those people will side with him if he tries to make a move towards dictatorship.

Now there are people who love Trump. They’ve heard and seen the vile things he’s said and done, and are genuinely okay with it, because they are full of hate and rage and want to change the world to put themselves on top. I do not know how many of these people there are. I know they exist all over the country, not just in red states. I know some of them have guns and want a reason to use them, because they’ve been talking about it for decades. I don’t know if we can trust the police to side with us over them if fights start breaking out. (And I pray pray PRAY people de-escalate any fights, because monkey see monkey do, and one news report of a MAGA extremist shooting someone can inspire a hundred copycats can lead to full-on civil war like we've never seen.) I know we need to be careful the next few months, to take care of ourselves and watch out for the more vulnerable in our communities.

And above all, I know this: Trump is not going to keep this country. He got it through trickery and deceit and foreign influence and national indifference and people not taking him seriously. We’ve learned. We’ve grown. We’re taking him seriously now, and we will not let him take what we’ve already told him he can’t have. The election is over. He’s a loser. He’d better start packing his bags. Because he’s not staying in office.

#politics #long post #best case scenario: he tries to rehabilitate his rep as a man of the people #by pushing massive amounts of money into direct stimulus #funds it by cutting the military budget in half #everyone gets several thousand dollars next month #he screws over every white collar criminal he ever had help from #exposes a lot of corruption and behind-the-scenes stuff #and pardons every convict in jail on weed charges #''he really drained the swamp'' everyone says admiringly #''only took him four years and an impeachment''#then he gets convicted of crimes and runs away to Russia #where he's found dead in a snowbank #because PUTIN IS NOT YOUR FRIEND YOU USELESS LUMP #Melina inherits everything and never sets foot in the US again #the Obamas send her a gift basket every Christmas #at least one of his kids runs for president #and gets laughed out of the party #the kid in question might be Ivanka who gets a concerning amount of radfem votes #it's definitely not Barron though #(watch me eat those words in 21 years)

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loki-zen · 4 years

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Thoughts on that survey post I did on ‘what do you think of the Tumblr norm to announce your gender/pronouns/race/sexuality other Social Justice RPG stats in your Tumblr bio’ (which still seems to be circulating)...

Even when I was sure I was a cis woman I disliked forums and the like that displayed your gender front and centre (I’m sure there were one or two that put some indication under your avatar on every post you made). I disliked it because my instinct was ‘it shouldn’t matter’; I don’t need or want everything I say on this unrelated subject to be viewed through the lens of my gender. It felt like... like ‘authoress’, or slapping a bow and huge eyelashes on a lady animal in a kid’s show/movie when the male animals just got to look like cartoon animals. (Ofc in this case the men had the signal too - I’m talking about the way in which it implies an obsession with ensuring the viewer know everyone’s gender, not, right now, the marked-female unmarked-male aspect.)

I honestly don’t know how much of this is my own issues with gender - I’ve always wanted people to pay less attention to mine - and how much is more universal.

One of the great things about the Internet, as a woman, used to be how it’s anonymity provided a space where you were just a person, just a geek not a ‘girl geek’, a place where you could be free from gendered assumptions and expectations because nobody really knew what gender anyone was anyway.

With the normalisation of using the Internet under your real name/identity, that all went away. I feel like here, one of the last bastions of the pseudononymous Internet of old, we ought not be so eager to throw it away.

(Results of the survey, btw, are overwhelmingly that people who interact with my posts are neutral about the existence of it as a widespread thing but agree that it would be bad if people felt expected or pressured to do it. Which I’m not really surprised by, because they are people who interact with my posts; I do not think they are representative of Tumblr as a whole, so I don’t think I know what Tumblr as a whole thinks. If anyone does interact a lot with the gen z social justice crowd I’d appreciate your reblogging it and seeing what data that gets. If can’t find it and want to do that hmu for link.)

#the internet #old person yells at cloud

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ragewerthers · 5 years

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A Small Problem

Summary: When something seems to be troubling Regis, Clarus takes it upon himself to find out what it is. Sadly... it leads to some truths and a small problem that has gone on for too long.

A/n: This is a fic that my friend @bgn846 was kind enough to let me write! She had the idea of poor Regis getting upset over something that is well beyond his control.

Cor's height.

I hope that everyone who reads this can enjoy a little ridiculousness thanks to these boys!

You can also read on AO3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22223002

Enjoy! :D

Word Count: 2120

-----------------------------------

Regis… was pouting.

And not just a bit of a sulk. Oh no.

The young Prince literally looked like someone had rained on his parade, stolen all his Christmas gifts and burnt his birthday cake all in one go.

Clarus had been trying to puzzle it out all morning and so far he’d come up with nothing. He prided himself on being able to figure out what was wrong with the man. Or in better instances stopping things from making him seem this way in the first place. However, sometimes his Highness could be… dramatic. And that was saying it in the kindest way possible.

So, here he was, walking alongside his Highness with no discernible destination in mind, still trying to figure out what had upset the man.

“Clarus,” Regis’s quiet and detached voice spoke up for the first time this morning, making the young Shield snap his attention back to the present.

“Yes, Highness?” he asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice as he heard that particular tone.

“How old is Soldier Leonis?” Regis asked, his eyes still staring straight forward as they continued on.

For a moment Clarus wondered if he’d misheard him or that he was joking at asking such an odd question, but his entire demeanor seemed to emanate that no… he was not.

“He’s… eighteen, Highness. You’re the one who planned his party last month… remember?” he said, starting to worry that something was seriously wrong with the Prince.

“Mm… yes. So I did,” Regis said offhandedly, though the news of Cor’s age didn’t seem to lighten his mood anymore. “Then it really doesn’t make any sense.”

Clarus’s brow furrowed as he heard that and he turned to regard Regis once more, sadly curiosity winning out as he saw Regis losing himself once more to his foul mood. “I’m sorry, but… what doesn’t make sense?” he asked carefully, not sure he was ready for the answer.

Regis’s expression turned into a scowl and for a moment his eyes flashed dangerously with an influx of magic he had gotten better at controlling.

“Why the hell does he keep growing?!” the Prince finally shouted, stopping his aimless walking and turning to face Clarus with a look of utmost annoyance, dejection and fury.

No… Clarus really wasn’t ready for that answer.

He was so unprepared that sadly his response was less than composed.

Before Clarus could even pretend to school his features the most unbecoming laughter escaped him. He was laughing so hard that he had started to double over, only held up by leaning against the hallway wall.

“Oh my gahahahads! Th-that’s what’s got y-you… you looking lihihihike… ahahaha!” Clarus tried to speak, but the hilarity of the moment overtook him once more and before long he was laughing so hard he was crying. His normally deep voice pitched higher with mirth.

“Stop it! Stop laughing this instant! I…. I command it!” Regis spluttered, the dark expression from before now replaced with embarrassment and annoyance of a different sort. Sadly this only seemed to make the Shield wheeze and Regis groaned forlornly. “Come on, Clarus! It’s not funny!”

“Y-Yehehes it is!” Clarus giggled, actually giggled, wiping at his eyes as his shoulders still shook with mirth. A few passing councilmen glanced down the hallway that Regis and Clarus were standing in, giving them both odd looks before moving on and leaving Regis more livid.

“No! No it’s not! It’s a serious problem and aren’t you supposed to help me when I have serious problems?” Regis hissed, trying to keep his voice down so the nosy spectators moved on past, mumbling something that Regis was positive had to do with a giggling Shield.

Slowly Clarus started to reign himself in, his breathing still a little stuttered and cheeks rosy as he stood back up to his full height.

Looking down on Regis and seeing the absolute annoyance written in every feature didn’t help him trying to keep his composure.

“S-So… Highness. What can I do to help you with your… small problem?” he asked, a wide shit eating grin spreading over his face and making Regis’s cheeks turn red.

“You’re a horrible human being and you should feel horrible!” Regis spat, turning on his heel and beginning to walk away as Clarus chuckled and moved after him, reaching out to grab his shoulder.

“Hey… I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he offered, his smile softening as Regis finally stopped and turned around. “Honestly though. The reason you’ve been in a funk all day is because… Cor is taller than you?” he asked lightly, watching as Regis shifted a bit under the look he was being given.

“I… well... ,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck before sighing and ducking his head. “Yes. But it’s not just that, Clarus! He keeps growing! Like a weed! He’s already surpassed me and he should’ve stopped, but it just keeps going and going! Hmm… do you think I can tell the cooks to stop giving him milk?”

The question seemed so genuine that Clarus had to look away to try and keep his composure from cracking once more, a little snort escaping him regardless.

“Clarus!”

“S-sorry, sorry. It’s just… why is this bothering you? My height has never bothered you has it? I’m at least a good foot and a half taller than you,” Clarus said with a little chuckle, though his smile faltered a bit as he saw the way Regis seemed to be looking everywhere but at him.

“Regis?”

“Hmm? Oh… no I… it’s never bothered me. Not in the least,” he tried to say casually, but Clarus was now far more aware that something was amiss.

“Your Highness?”

Silence.

“Your Grace?”

More silence.

“Regis.”

“Okay, fine! It… did bother me a bit,” Regis mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and still refusing to meet Clarus’s gaze.

“Please tell me you didn’t try to keep the cooks from giving me milk or anything.”

Silence.

“Oh my gods! Are you kidding me!” Clarus shouted.

“I didn’t do that to you okay? Do… Do you remember that month where I had an incredibly heavy briefcase filled with important documents that I had to take with me to all of my meetings and social engagements? I was about thirteen?” Regis asked, looking a bit ashamed.

Clarus didn’t like where this was going.

“I do. I was the Eos’s most tired eighteen year old because of that thing. I remember having to lug that around and I almost threw my back out twice! What about it?” he asked, his eyes narrowed into slits.

Regis cleared his throat, tugging at the tie around his neck. “I may have… fibbed. Just a bit.”

“Do elaborate, Highness.”

Regis actually flinched at that. “I… didn’t have any important documents so much as… many, many books in there to weigh it down.”

“What?!”

“I thought it might give me at least a chance to catch up with… where are you going?! Get back here!”

Clarus had turned and started to storm off back down the hallway. “You tried to weigh me down when we were kids to keep me from growing!”

Regis was trying to catch up to the mans longer stride and now it was his turn to reach out and grab onto Clarus’s shoulder, though he did have to stretch a bit.

“Hey! It didn’t work, did it? You still outgrew me and now Cor is doing the same!”

Clarus had stopped by this point and gave a heavy sigh, a flicker of anger still remaining, but he had to remember… this was years ago and Regis had literally been a child. Closing his eyes for a moment he took a breath before turning around to face the man he had vowed to protect with his life.

Even if he had been… and still was… a little shit.

“First of all, you need to know that you are an absolute idiot for doing that,” Clarus said quietly, getting Regis to nod in agreement. “However… looking back it is hilarious that a thirteen year old got me to do that without my knowing. So. I have to at least give you that.”

Regis couldn’t help giving a little chuckle at that and nodded. “Still… sorry about that,” he offered and Clarus finally offered him a smile of his own.

“It’s fine, Highness. Really. But… you’re older now and, I had hoped, wiser. So why are you so fixated on Cor getting taller than you? It’s just genetics? Mors isn’t a tall man either,” he said with a shrug and Regis scoffed a little.

“It’s annoying because I look like a valley between two mountains walking between you two! If he doesn’t stop growing then I’m literally going to look like a troll Prince!”

“Who’s a troll Prince?” a voice popped up from behind Regis and glancing up Clarus’s smile only grew.

“Cor! Just the man I was hoping to see,” he said, seeing a panicked look appear in Regis’s eyes as the Prince spun around to greet Cor in return.

Coming chest level to the man and having to look up at him.

Cor gave the Prince a salute, his young face still holding that stoic expression that it generally had. “Your Highness. Lord Amicitia,” he said in greeting before finally allowing a little smile to appear. “But really… what about a troll Prince?”

“I’m afraid that our fearless leader… our future monarch… our bastion of hope… has a, dare I say, small problem,” Clarus said, watching as Regis snapped his head back to glare at him.

After learning about the suitcase incident from years ago he figured it was about time to get some payback.

Cor looked between the two, confusion on his face even as a little smile remained. “Okay? Is there… something I can do to assist?” he asked.

“It’s a ‘little’ difficult to say if you can,” Clarus continued, still feeling the glare upon him. Oh this was fantastic. “I think Regis would be the one to say if you could help a’tall’. Wouldn’t you say so… your ‘High’-ness?”

“Why are you doing this to me?!” Regis hissed, Clarus soon fixing him with a narrowed expression that actually made the Prince shrink back a bit.

“Suitcase,” Clarus growled out in reply.

Needless to say Cor still had absolutely no idea what was going on and for a moment, wondered if the two had been hit with some sort of status effect from an unknown assailant. First he walked up on the two of them talking of troll Princes and now Clarus was speaking oddly, the Prince looked confused and upset and now the Shield was talking about… luggage?

No… something was definitely wrong here. Taking out his phone for a moment he shot a quick text to Monica at the Citadel’s medical ward before pocketing his phone and putting on his least scary smile, trying to seem placating. He would’ve used his ear piece to communicate, but honestly, with how these two were acting he worried it wouldn’t just frighten them more.

“Okay you two,” he said in the calmest voice he could, putting a hand on each of their shoulders and gently starting to push them back down the hall. “Why don’t we go for a little walk? We can visit the nice lady at the medical ward. You remember Monica, right?”

It was then that both Clarus and Regis broke out of their glaring match, feeling how they were being moved along by the young Marshal.

“Cor? Cor what are you doing?” Clarus asked as he tried to stop, only to be pushed along a little more firmly, for the first time in awhile realizing that Cor was indeed actually starting to get a bit taller than himself. Perhaps even a bit broader.

“It’s going to be okay,” Cor spoke slowly and calmly, giving them each a squeeze to their shoulders as his eyes flickered around the hallway for any dangers that may arise. “I think you two may have been hit with a status effect. We’re going to go for a little check up with Miss Monica.”

“What?! We’re fine, Cor. Clarus is just an ass and doesn’t know how to keep his big mouth shut!”

“Hey! You started this, Prince Pipsqueak!”

“Cor! Cor did you hear what he just called me?!”

Cor glanced between the two and continued to move them along the hall, raising a hand to touch his earpiece. “Monica. Cor Leonis. I think the effect may be age regression. Will keep you posted,” he spoke quietly as the two continued to bicker as he pushed them along. “We may have a… small problem.”

#ffxv #my fics #cor leonis #clarus amicitia #regis lucis caelum #fluff #humor #I just love these three #they can be such ridiculous men

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bi-badass-geek · 5 years

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Blizzcon 2019

Lmao fellas everyone was jokin how shit its gonna be and guess what ... we weren’t wrong tho at least we got pc titles not mobile like late april fools last year. Can’t make long post at the moment so it’s gonna be pretty brief.

They started with ‘apology’ i heard only piece of it and all i got from it was we will do better in the future let’s all move on nothin bout now.

First title we got on screen was “Diablo IV” which had kinda shitty graphic (like from mobile) if ya ask me but i hope its cause yt and other things that happens while streaming stuff. 5 class in total tho they talked bout 3 at the moment : Barbarian, Sorc and Druid.

After opening they talked more bout D4 from which we found out : Sorcerer is elemental carnage intarnation , you can custom features of characters like scars hair and other details like this. Talents goin back , runes and skills gonna have tree system or somethin along that way ( they only showed talents tree looked fun if ya ask me), Sets are still game but won’t dominate the game, more push for legendaries we gonna see a lot of them. Open world no more do act this act that now (doesn’t feel Diablo much that way but *shrugs*). 16 time size, social hub which people already complained bout feelsbadman, events in the world you can finish with others (mmo feels much i’m right) and in some areas you can do pvp (kids gonna cry when they outplayed from lied party strategy i feel it already) mounts (horses was what they showed only so far the looks with armors and throphies at the side of it The Witcher 3 vibe much guys i wonder if that’s Roach). Bonus to previous feature combo dismount mounts (GW2 hmmm). They talked somethin bout fire places that inspired DS but not sure if it’s a thing in the actual game or was only concept. They were like let’s talk bout dungeons and hell then procided with showin us concept art only 22/20. Druid will have companions we saw 2 wolfs also can change into bear for example which was interestin.

After demons they went with ‘Blizzard Arcade’ but if its like special abonaments or just con thing i have no idea it was a mess tho ‘Starcraft II’ fans will be able to play vs AI agents, some commander comin back.

Second game they went for was HOTS from which we gonna get Deathwing (however you spell this pal) one of whihc everyone will get when its up and rollin, from now till 10th Nov. all heroes are free to play.

Third on plate was ‘Warcraft’ which i have next to 0 knowledge but from what i read its just old content that smells like other titles from miles away. ‘Warcraft Reforge’ beta open Thursday with virtual ticket. Said title is havin 25 anniversary also World 15th and since everyone likes vanilla actual quote mates they sellin ice cream vanilla there L.M.A.O., Classic will get update soon so tip finish quests if ya have any. New pet gonna be for sale next month all cash from it will go to 2 charities. 3 events cause anniversary whoever finish all will get obsidian pet or somethin like that. Sylv will clap Lich King if i’m correct and tear crown apart ( Go Queen!) preorder fever starts today and it’s literally Shadowbringers vibe from FFXIV or Shadowkeep from D2 *insert can i copy your homework meme* Name of the expansion is “Shadowlands” (so original) which gives new dungeons,raids also zones : Ardenweald,Maldraxxus, Bastion etc.

Forth nap material was “Hearthstone” aka new expansion bout dragons (which is cool still not gonna buy and play it) ‘Descent of Dragons’ on launch day ya get 5 free cards from set. Sept out you can pre purchase today yay! New mode ‘’Battle...’’ 8 players that works together gettin creatures till one remains. 12 Sept-beta (even tho we got Nov already i don’t get it so don’t ask me)

The last but not least i gonna be as bold as i can and say its game after D4 gaymers were waitin for aka “Overwatch 2” weirdly enough O1 will have updates with new maps etc so idk why anyone would feel the need to buy 2 really but whatever floats your boat. Story missions and hero missions which first is like campain and second adventure from Diablo (what they said) , you will be able to lvl up characters (actually showed that on Tracer) Custom skills will guess its either looks or in single cause i only glared at this part (feelsbad bein busy when you want to watch shit), PvE aspect, PvP new maps, New looks (mostly just hair and armor parts if ya ask me) New heroes we saw peak from ‘good guys’ side Soju is the name or somethin like that and works like some kind of soldier at least that was speculations. At the booth ya can play on Torano already. Nice touch skins etc will be transfered from O1 to O2 so yall gamble addicts can chill at start.

#talkin tag #games #blizzcon2019 #they can choke but i wanted to see what type of crap they gonna throw #peps were dead most of the time there or not amused byt any announcments #cant type today sorrynotsorry #Overwatch #Diablo #World of Warcraft #Starcraft #Heartstone #Hots #gonna try to fix errors tomorrow and long detailed post when im back home

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bedlamgames · 4 years

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Q&A #103

Today we have the Twine conversion, lesbian training mantras, social lube, a bunch of random stuff from the discord, and a whole lot more.

[Anonymous said]: I'm really curious what the tally means for your twine conversion posts. Can't seem to figure out what its suppose to represent progress wise...

- Answered this last Q&A. Because of you asking I’ve now also added the explanation to what it’s about to every stream post so I hope that helped with understanding what’s going on with that.

[Anonymous said]: Suggestion: For races that start with a random corruption (ie: Succubi), have an option in full custom to spend points to either narrow what that corruption is (to be one of the four types, for example) or to outright pick one (for a much higher cost).

- That’s a good idea. Being able to pick specifically I think would be too much. There are ALOT of corruptions so that would mean many many menus to be able to select everything. Being able to pick one of the four types seems fair to me as something to spend points on in Full Custom. Added it to my notes.

[Anonymous said]: Have a succubus slaver who used to be a lamia. On level up, she had the option to get the Fleet trait, which I thought was off-limits for Lamia due to their body shape. I think it's a bug?

- Good spot and should be fixed as of the last update.

[Anonymous said]: Noticed a bug with No Haven 0.903: If you select a human (or once-human) for your character, and then quick restart, your next character will keep the human's Racial aspect Social Lube. On the topic of that Racial, it says " includes one human, and three other different races/subtypes gain an additional Success" Does that mean one human and three non-humans, or one human and three slavers each of a different race from each other?

-Took me awhile to work this out as going from human to human seemed fine. However you’re right that those with a heritage like demi-angels or succubi will incorrectly keep the previous racial.

The second so as long as you have at least one human you can get the buff by say having a northerner, noble, wastelander, and convent.

[Anonymous said]: hi bud, xfto/x421 here, its been a long time i guess. wanted to ask about the status of the no haven/twine conversation. i joined your picardo lately but couldnt post some reports since you dont allow guest-posts. well anyway, the report is about something ridiculous i have found after some restarts, the chosen main charakter (lamia) starts as male with the hard carry aspect(immense shaft) and different description than the ones the perks would give. 1/2

another question, feels like i asked something similiar in the past, how about the integration of different artpacks/access to older pics, or deletion of those that never get used? i guess that would requiere some more access to the game than you allow atm. maybe with twine? do you have a roadmap on tfgames or somewhere for the future of no haven? i know there are some more races you want to implement and improve some systems, but thats it, hope you are doing well in these times. 2/2

I do an update on the patreon every two weeks which is linked on the twitter. You do not need to be a patron to read these and is the best way to stay informed about what I’ve been up to. That includes the status of the conversion. To quickly sum it up;

It's at a stage where all the RAGS to Twine code conversion is basically done. What I need to do now is translate all that work into something playable and there's currently big logic issues with a bunch of the conditions and passages. So what I'm currently doing is trying to tidy up the visual look of the code with a bunch of idents with the theory that will make finding the errors easier.

Alas it’s not me disallowing guest posts... Picarto had some massive stonking issues and so they locked things down hard due to that preventing guests from chatting. I suggest a throwaway email site to get around that.

I don’t think there’s any art in the game file that’s not used as I try to keep on top of deleting the old ones. Not really down for doing art packs of the old ones as due to that not being my art so I see them as placeholder only until they can be replaced by commissions.

I probably do need to do some kind of roadmap sometime. I’m less keen as it’s kind of a dirty word these days as due to the miss-use of them by others it’s got some bad connontations, but I’m also aware the alternative which is me randomly mentioning stuff on discord/picarto streams leaves the vast majority of my audience in the dark which is also really not ideal.

[Anonymous said]: [no haven 0.903] [Crit no longer grants Bimboborn] okay, but how do I get bimboborn now?

- It’s a corruption. Specifically Blessings of Perversion.

[Anonymous said]: With the change to training where hypnotic slavers can fully embed the relevant mantras for blowjob, bimbo, and sissy training, could we also get that for lesbian training?

- Yes that’s the plan when I do the third part of lesbian training. Got a set of commissions planned just got to sort the funding and work out who I’m getting to do it.

[Anonymous said]: hey bud, x421 here, again, might be already fixed because thats from no haven .903, but i recently had the witch queen super rare quest, you might want to proof read the quest and results, there are a few typos. i really did enjoy the writing nonetheless, just a quick question about that quest, as far as i understood this one, you only change your odds of the final result depending on how good you do on your way to the final, but the reward in the end only depends on the final result? 1/2

2/2 it just dawned on me that its been a while since you made an Q&A post so i guess i ll go and lurk on the tfgames forum in the next days, just one last question: i asked early in development about camp upgrades and you were not that convinced about that stuff, i understand you want the slaver camp as some bandit camp and not some castle/bastion or whatever, but since you added camp upgrades, maybe add proximity to a certain region? or something to spend supplies and gold in a 13month+ run?

- Hah! Okay will give it another read through.That’s correct yes. There’s also rewards on the way if you Critical those parts.

There is a new gold sink coming soon in an upcoming update. I’ve also got plans for more camp upgrades coming later.

[From the Patreon]: I'm that guy you replied to about the patch notes in Q&A 101. Solid updates. Bugs in the outfit system has driven me nuts since like, 2015, has it been that long already? I think it has. I like collecting them and something always blows up. This time, I ended up with a slaver wearing both the ooze outfit and ponygirl outfit. So there's that. Also I was disappointed the new Quicker then You'd Like wasn't interactive. Solid in any case though, thanks!

- I'll get them all one day I swear! Don't suppose you remember the chain of events that led to that? New QAYL was a patron requested one with the idea of having a big pay off for playing submissive which often involves playing sub-optimally.

[From the Patreon]: 1-ive been noticing when you choose to repick choices for an slave training assignment the slave gets added to the list of choices 2-also just how rare is the post-slave princess city assignment, cause i can never seem to get it even after selling multiple slave princesses 3-another thing is that the nightly puppet-leader stat is almost impossible to get again(either that or i have bedwarmers incapable of usurping me even thought i my current stats mean i couldnt win against even the subbiest slave)

- Will check 3 as you've not been the only person to mention that. 2 I know exists for sure as other people have definitely got it. Should be no rarer than any other rare City assignment, and thanks for the spot on 1.

[From the Discord]: Top 3 Animes of the 2010 to 2020

Mahou Shoujo Madoka★Magica the series was staggeringly good. Just redefined what anime could be to me. Film is a... well it was a thing. A beautiful thing with an ending which I still quite know how to feel about.

Shirobako. It’s about creativity, craft, and about how people can come together to make something. It might not be something good, but dangit it’s been made and that’s worthwhile. It’s also from personal experience by miles the most accurate depiction of working in an office I’ve ever seen.

Oh man this is very very hard deciding on the third so pick one of the following and I could probably make a strong case for it.

Kobayashi-san Chi no Maid Dragon, Darling in the FranXX (yes really, yes even the ending), Lupin III: Part 5, Kill la Kill, Monster Musume, Flip Flappers, Demi-chan wa Kataritai, Zombieland Saga, or Kaguya-sama wa Kokurasetai.

Also while I was taking the question to mean series both Your Name and Promare are absolutely phenonemal films.

[From the Discord]: Best recent Eurovision Act

Lena. Always Lena.

[From the Discord]: What's the agricultural technological level of No Haven like

It’s not hit industrialization yet. What makes the difference is and allows cities like Aversol and even bigger to exist is that the organization of the human empire is far better than it has any right to be for the other levels of development being able to keep an incredibly complex supply chain constantly flowing even if on the ground level it barely seems to be moving at all. There are also some much, much larger farms both on the Great Plains and further to the north compared to the much more isolated single/couple of households ones that your slavers raid.

[From the Discord]: What have been some of your all-time favourite assignments, both in terms of working on them and how they turned out?

Love When Week’s End Comes for a recent one. Writing all the results in colour commentary (and all the variations for weather, events and outcomes) was a real challenge and I do like how it came out.

Witch-Queen and Arisin’ for being the first times I tried to go for a different, more potentially disturbing/freaky mood, and I’m pleased with the results.

Sable Masquerade as I really like the ‘bad end’ I came up with. Actually I like the whole thing as while the pitch from the patron obviously helped, a lot of it was inspired by a random superhero bondage party picture I saw on HF, which I decided to run with, and had a bunch of fun exploring.

[From the Discord]: Weirdest bug and most difficult bug

The one that resulted in a male wisp riding a griffon was a fun one.

Most difficult has to be the clothing management which as a previous question suggests I’ve still not entirely solved.

[From the Discord]: If No Haven was an MMO, what race/class would you play?

Kreen rogue mainly as I really like the edit I did for the portrait which MidnightonMars later translated into a commission.

If not definitely a lamia.

[From the Discord]: Knowing what you do now about the design of the game, are there any game mechanics you wish you'd have implemented differently?

Clothing management. So very much clothing management. I’ve redone it entirely twice now, and it’s still not where I want it to be.

[From the Discord]: What was your inspiration for creating the setting of No Haven? Has the direction the game has gone varied from your initial idea? If so what has been the biggest change?

- It started off with adapting the chan game Deeper Dungeons which was basically a certain popular mmo with nothing different about it outside of it being porn along with some possibly unwise options of personal abuse. I first changed it by ditching gnomes for neko which to my mind was a clear upgrade. There even used to be an examine refference in the RAGS version to suggest they’d been in the region of the dungeons before being driven out.

Then it was a gradual process of adding with the occasional subtractions to get it closer to a more Warhammer feeling setting which has always been a major love of mine when I was still doing Whorelock’s in RAGS.

With No Haven it was a case of building on what I’ve done there and expanding upon that with the race lore and assignment descriptions. Biggest was probably when I did the favoured/unfavoured stuff and added a ton of extra backstory to various races to justify the choices made there.

#Q&A

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siren-dragon · 5 years

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1,001 Lucian Nights -- Somnus x F!reader fanfiction (Ch.3)

Hey everyone, here it is at last: chapter 3! I do apologize for the slight delay as I was busy all last week moving (and there is still more work to do @_@) but I finally finished this so you can all enjoy! :)

Also a big shout out to the anon who keeps messaging me, you are so kind with your words of encouragement and @maty-yami who is always there to help when I need it. ^_^

The Citadel of Insomnia was known to be the largest fortification within the entirety of the Crown City, if not all of Lucis herself. And accompanying its vast size were a plethora of servants that hurried down stone and marble corridors to tend to visiting lords and ladies alongside an equally large garrison of glaive warriors who patrolled the grounds. As a result, privacy was a cultivated luxury that was not easily achieved within the royal bastion. However, there was one set of rooms that none in the Citadel dared to traverse into: The Crystal chambers, a room that was split into a small foyer and inner sanctum where the Stone of the Six was held.

None were allowed within the inner sanctum while the Oracle was conversing with an Astral and it was here that you allowed your thoughts to wander in relative privacy as you paced across the crimson carpet of the foyer. It appeared that you managed to make quite an impression during your encounter the previous evening, remembering how lapis-colored irises occasionally drifted toward you. Though truth be told, you were glad to take your leave with Lady Selene when the council had finished as it let you avoid engaging with Somnus so soon. Unfortunately, Fate was a fickle thing and it did not seem to be very considerate of your own feelings. You did not even hear the sound of another’s footsteps as you continued your restless pacing, only to collide with a resisting force that prevented you from walking… a force that took the shape of none other than the Lucian ruler himself.

“King Somnus,” you murmured aloud before quickly bowing respectfully in greeting. “Forgive me, I did not realize you were here. I am afraid Lady Selene must not be disturbed at this time during her prayers. If you wish to speak with her you must wait until-“

“What did you do to me?” He questioned harshly, stepping forward while you reflexively took a step backward.

“Forgive me, your Majesty, but I do not understand what you are inquiring of?” you replied calmly despite the sliver of fear you felt.

“How did you manage to chase the nightmares away? What magic did you use on me?”

“Nothing but my words and wit your Majesty-“

“Do not lie to me, Lady (f/n).” Somnus argued, your obvious surprise at the fact that he had knowledge of your name was overshadowed by the cold and calm fury he was expressing; one that was far more sinister than any explosive outcry of rage could achieve.

“I am sorry sire, but all I did was relay my story to you…nothing more.” You slowly replied, true terror beginning to flood your body at the anger displayed on the young king’s face.

It had seemed your simple fable had left more of an impact upon the king than you were led to believe, despite his displeasure for such fairy-tales. If your audience had consisted of any other individual, you’d have been pleased to hear the success of your spontaneously crafted tale. But this was no mere crowd that eagerly waited on every spoken word in the Bazaar, it was the King of Lucis himself; and if he truly wished to do so the man could order your demise if he felt so inclined.

“Then you shall finish that story of yours tomorrow night, Lady (f/n), or you will regret the day you crossed my path.” Somnus whispered coldly into your ear before spinning on his heel and disappearing down the corridor out of sight.

Though the king had long since left after his intimidating promise, you remained frozen where you stood as if the Glacian herself had paralyzed you with the chill of winter. It was in that moment that you understood Gilgamesh’s concern for the man’s well-being and the magnitude of control his night-terrors exerted upon him. Yet the more pressing matter was that Somnus expected you to finish your fable… and you did not know where to start.

The once over-crowded and animated Cavaugh Bazaar now stood empty with the exception of only an occasional passerby hurrying down the street to avoid the falling rain. You tugged the hood of your cloak tighter around your face to shield yourself from any excess water as you carefully avoid the various puddles in search of your destination. When at last you located a familiar black and crimson-striped tent, you increased the speed of your gait and hurried inside to avoid the unrelenting deluge. “Thank you for meeting with me, Master Sidolfus.”

“The pleasure is all mine Lady (f/n), please have a seat. Tea?”

“Yes, thank you.” You answered politely, accepting the warm ceramic cup, “I suspect this foul weather does not bode well in the case of storytelling.”

“There is no ideal weather for storytelling, my lady; but the rain has thinned out the audience considerably. Hopefully Ramuh shall release his hold upon the region before the day is out. But… what of you Lady (f/n)? As much as I enjoy this visit, I assume this meeting is not merely a social call.”

You sighed, returning your cup onto the small table. “I am afraid not, Master Sidolfus. I wished to ask your advice on story telling…”

And so, you described the situation you had fallen into with your intricate tale, though you made sure to omit certain details; such as who the young lord was that had been charmed by your story. It was only once you concluded your recounting of the previous evening did Sidolfus speak. “I sit in this bazaar telling stories, but if the audience does not like what I am saying, they walk away. But if your audience does not listen…. you could find your very life in jeopardy, Lady (f/n)”

“I…I thought it would be easy but it wasn’t,” you confessed. “I almost lost it before I even got a chance to begin.”

“I told you before, the first moments are the most vital.”

“I did pause at a good point though. With the thieves sneaking into Lestallum to kill Prompto and his household.”

Sidolfus frowned, “sneaking in how? In what?”

“A wagon,” you replied.

“Too ordinary… it has to be something more exotic, more unique. You’re starting your story over, again. You have to hook your audience, again.”

“But… how?”

“I was walking last night past the Great Cathedral on the streets of Altissia, exactly an hour after the sun had vanished below the horizon, when I came face to face…with Death.” Sidolfus whispered softly, his eyes now holding a glassy look; as if he were reliving a distant memory.

“Had he come for you?” you asked eagerly, curious as to the fate of the man before you and his encounter with Death.

Yet the deep laugh-lines on the storyteller’s face became even clearer when Sidolfus smiled at your words. “You see there? You’re hooked.”

The confusion on your face soon vanished as your eyes began to twinkle in delight at the words of advice, causing the small spark of inspiration that flickered and grew within your mind.

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

“Absolutely not,” Gilgamesh answered with a tone of finality.

“Lord Gilgamesh, this was a request made by the king himself. I cannot simply refuse-”

“And I say it is out of the question. While I do not wish to entertain the idea, I cannot ignore the fact that His Majesty is ill and may not be in complete control of his faculties or judgement. If something were to happen, you could be risking your very life Lady (f/n).”

“Regardless of the risks, we must try something.”

Gilgamesh sighed heavily in frustration, “and what say you, Lady Selene?”

The blonde priestess remained so silent throughout the entirety of your disagreement with Gilgamesh, pondering the information you had told both of them. It was only once the silver-haired swordsman called her name did Lady Selene finally speak. “Lord Gilgamesh…I promised to do all in my power to aid His Majesty, be it as Oracle or as a friend of Somnus. If (f/n) stories can grant some solace to Somnus’ trouble mind, perhaps it is best if we allow her to continue.”

“However,” Lady Selene added, turning to face you with a serious expression, looking every inch the divine Oracle, she was. “(f/n)… Lord Gilgamesh is not wrong, you could be putting your life in danger and I do not wish to see my dearest friend harmed. So please answer me truthfully when I say this: are you certain this is the choice you wish to make? We will not force you to do this, despite Somnus' wishes.”

“Yes, your Ladyship. If he is willing to listen to my stories, then maybe they could help his mind heal from the damage those nightmares have caused.”

Gilgamesh narrowed his eyes in suspicion at your words, “you do not sound certain.”

“I am not, but it is better than doing nothing. Please, Lady Selene, trust me.”

“…Very well then, I trust you. But I plead with you to use caution (f/n), often there are doors that cannot be closed once opened.”

Even though you had confidently managed to assuage the uneasy both Lady Selene and Gilgamesh felt, if barely, you had done nothing to tame the slight fear that wracked your body as the sun drifted further below the horizon. When night had finally fallen completely, Gilgamesh was kind enough to escort you to Somnus’ chambers personally; in order to avoid any unnecessary confrontations with the rest of the palace staff. You had at last reached the heavy, oak door you took a deep steadying breath while you nervously twisted a loose thread from your dress. “Lady (f/n),” Gilgamesh spoke, laying a comforting hand upon your shoulder, even if the action did startle you momentarily. “Before we continue, may I have a word?”

You blinked in surprise before giving a nod of acknowledgement to the old warrior. “Of course, Lord Gilgamesh.”

“While I do not approve of this peculiar method in regards to the health of the king or the demands he has made… You have my eternal gratitude for undertaking this endeavor.”

“That is kind of you to say.”

“I know I’ve no right to ask anymore of you, but I wish to make a sole request.” You nodded in understanding, gesturing for Gilgamesh to continue, “should any knowledge come to light when you are speaking with Somnus, I beg you to not judge the king too harshly. He is a good man despite his faults and the choices he has made.”

“…I am merely here to continue my stories for the king Lord Gilgamesh, nothing more.”

Relief flashed across the stoic swordsman’s face at your promise of silence, “…thank you.” He bowed to you one final time to in farewell and took his place further from the door, acting as a silent guardian in place of the usual glaives. Slowly you proceeded the short distance toward the wooden door and raised your hand to gently knock three times, only waiting mere moments until a curt voice sounded with a brief “enter.”

“Six give me courage,” you murmured quietly before stepping inside.

Just as it were the previous evening, the light of the braziers around the room and the oil lamps atop the tables bathed the rooms in a warm glow that chased away the evening chill. Leaning against the lavish pillows and plush carpet beside the low table with a goblet of wine held loosely within his left hand was none other than the king himself, his eyes immediately shifting toward you at the sound of the door opening and closing. “Good evening, your Majesty,” you hummed in greeting, proud that your voice did not waver.

“There is nothing good about it.,” Somnus retorted sharply, lazily twisting the goblet within his hand while azure eyes shifted onto you. For a brief moment the two of you remained motionless, his eyes holding a flicker of gold as the firelight reflected in the azure depths that observed your every move like a hawk despite the dark shadows of exhaustion beneath them. “You decided to return after all.”

“Of course. It would have been quite rude of me to refuse a personal summon from my sovereign, your Majesty.”

Despite the stony expression Somnus gave you for your light jab at his less than courteous meeting with you earlier that day, a flash of regret briefly crossed Somnus’ face at the memory before vanishing completely. “I asked for your presence here so that you would finish the story of Prompto and Cindy, so finish it. Tell me; how could a wanted fugitive and his fellow thieves enter a guarded city like Lestallum?”

“You forget you Majesty, a man’s cunning has the power to conquer many things,” you spoke as you took your place opposite of the king. Taking a deep breath in order to relax your pounding heart, you began your tale once more…

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

“As I was saying beforehand, Verstael brought all of his men to Lestallum in a wagon, to murder Prompto…. but it was no ordinary wagon. For within the stone jars that rested within his cart hid one man from his gang of thieves.”

“So, the stone jars were the disguise for his men…. And exactly how did Verstael explain the stone jars to the city guards?”

“What is this old man?” the guard asked gruffly, eying the old cart and plentiful number of jars in suspicion.

Verstael, who was now leaning upon a walking stick while hiding half his face behind a black cloak, coughed weakly. “Forty jars of lamp oil, for the royal palace sir.”

“Very well then, proceed inside peddler.”

It was then that you heard a sound that caught you off guard; a deep but soft laugh that belonged to Somnus himself. Yet the laugh held a slight roughness toward it, as if the king had not performed the action for some time. “Forty jars of oil, hmm? Well now, that is clever. Obviously Verstael had a black heart… but a very bright brain.”

“He certainly had that alright,” you agreed. “Naturally, Prompto had no idea of what danger he was in. He didn’t tremble… when he should have trembled.”

Cindy swept through the villa’s courtyard to ensure that the doors were sealed shut for the evening, sliding the wooden bar across the main doors and locking them tight. A soft whine quickly caught the young maid’s attention as Pryna lovingly rubbed her head against Cindy’s leg. She smiled at the ivory dog’s display of affection and knelt down to gently run a hand across the hound’s back and through her fur. Yet her happy expression soon faded as Cindy sighed in resignation, “what are we going to do to protect him Pryna? He's a dreamer. With all those schemes for making money, who knows what will happen if he’s not careful.”

Pryna whined softly as she nuzzled against Cindy's hand. She smiled softly, glancing toward sole window where the glow of firelight could be seen, “I suppose we will just have to look out for him. Will you help me Pryna?”

The dog gave an affirming bark, grinning happily which caused Cindy to beam. “Thank you. You are certainly wise beyond your years.”

It was during this time that a large wagon was slowly making its way into the high-class district of Lestallum. The chocobo’s pulling the cart occasionally let loose a cry of exertion only to be silenced by Verstael immediately. Behind the blonde man, a groan could be heard within the cart as the lid from one of the stone jars rose to reveal one of the thief’s men, his face bearing a slightly pained expression from the cramp enclosure of the jar. “Sir, turn left here to Prompto’s house.”

Following the quietly relayed directions, Verstael brought the cart to a halt only a few feet from the villa; quickly ensuring the wagon not be disturbed. “I’ll be back in 2 hours’ time when it’s quiet… then we’ll kill everyone in the house.” He whispered harshly.

“It will be a great pleasure, Chief,” came the muffled reply from one of the stone jars.

“Excuse me Prompto, the cook has made some honeyed tea; I thought you’d like some.” Cindy spoke, placing the tray beside the desk Prompto sat at.

“Hmm? Oh, thank you Cindy. That’ll help keep me awake so I can finish my work.” Prompto grinned, gladly accepting the silver cup while brushing aside some papers scattered upon the desk. “I can’t seem to decide which vendor to invest in with all these offers.”

“Why bother investing in such schemes at all Prompto? You are rich.” Cindy asked, moving to close the curtains for the evening.

The freckled blonde nodded in agreement, “yeah, but that was just pure luck- anyone could have had such fortune occur to them. I want to know for sure that I can make even if I didn’t have a gold cushion to fall back on.”

“You surprise me Prompto, most people wouldn’t give a second thought of their future if they had the amount of gold you did….” Cindy replied, her words trailing off as she looked out the window to see the sight of a large wagon that was parked near the villa’s entrance.

“Well, it never hurts to be prepared; right?.... Cindy?”

Hearing her name called caused olive green eyes to shift from the window and to the flash of concern that appeared upon Prompto’s face. “It’s nothing sir, just a little tired is all. Good night Prompto.”

After leaving Prompto to his work once more, Cindy returned to the kitchen with a frown on her face as she addressed the chef and the other servants. “I saw there is a wagon parked outside in the street, do any of you know why?”

“It’s a merchant Miss Cindy, with jars of oil for the palace,” the chef, a middle-aged man called Takka, spoke as he and the rest of the staff continued eating their dinner. “He asked permission to leave his cart there for a few hours when he went for supper.”

“Did you check him closely Takka?” Cindy asked, frowning in remembrance at the memory of the rather strange wagon. It was odd to see a peddler leave his merchandise alone in such a large city as Lestallum, especially if it was a shipment intended for the palace.

“Of course, Miss Cindy. He was a rather rough chap when we spoke, but he did say he did travel from far away so I assumed it was just exhaustion.”

“…Alright then.”

Bidding the rest of the staff a good evening, Cindy proceeded to her small room within the servant’s quarters to prepare for bed. Despite his wealth being from an ill-gotten source, Prompto was a generous man with his new-found fortune and doted on his loyal staff. Though the space would be considered small to some, Cindy was grateful for Prompto’s generosity, it was one of the reasons why she cared for him so deeply.

Removing the scrap of fabric that had tied her hair away from her face, soft but short golden tresses tumbled down against her neck. She reached for the wooden come beside her bed only for the illuminating flame of the oil lamp to dim significantly before vanishing completely. Letting loose a soft curse at the small inconvenience, Cindy rose from her bed and carefully returned to the kitchen where the oil jar stood. Before she could even gather some, Takka stopped her; “there would be no use doing that Miss Cindy, we’re out of oil at the moment. I was intending to go purchase some tomorrow.”

“That won’t help at all,” Cindy sighed softly. “…wait a minute, didn’t you say that merchant had jars of oil? The one with the wagon outside?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Well, why don’t we take a little for the night and we can pay him in the morning.”

Takka shrugged, “I guess he won’t care so long as he gets paid.”

“It is often that such small and insignificant actions, like the dying light of an empty oil lamp, that one’s life can shift unexpectedly…for better or for worse,” you murmured softly as the king remained enamored within your story.

Cindy and Takka soon exited the villa and walked toward the abandoned wagon, ready to open one of the stone jars until the sound of whispers caught both of their ears. Raising a hand to signal Takka to stop, Cindy quietly crept closer to the wagon and listened carefully.

“How long do we have to wait here?” An irritated voice whispered harshly, “I can barely feel my legs.”

“We wait here until the Chief comes back, then the killing starts. So, shut up and be quiet!” Hissed another voice from the jar beside it.

Cindy’s eyes widened in realization and fear at what the two men were speaking of, causing her to quickly hurry back within the villa with Takka in tow and sprint for Prompto’s study. When she entered the room, Prompto smiled and lifted a stack of papers from the table. “Cindy, I think this chocobo farm sounds like a great place to invest in, what do you think?”

“They’ve come Prompto,” she interrupted, a slight panic alit within her eyes.

“What do you mean? Who’s come?” Prompto asked, confusion coloring his face.

“The murderers. The one’s you stole the money from….”

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

When Cindy and Prompto hurried toward the front door, Pryna was awake and growling softly at the entryway as Takka tried to soothe the dog. Laying a calming hand on the dog’s head to cease her growls, Prompto silently opened the front door and glanced outside to see the wagon not twenty feet from their home. Cindy gently tapped Prompto upon the shoulder, raising a finger to her lips when Prompto moved to answer. “I’ve got an idea,” she whispered discreetly, “follow me.”

Together, the three crept closer to the wagon, which was now emitting low moans of agony from the cramped and confined thieves. Takka took his place near the back of the wagon while Cindy and Prompto hurried to the front to uncouple the chocobo’s residing there. As they approached the massive birds, Prompto accidentally tripped on a loose cobble stone, causing him to fall against the wagon and jostle a few jars. The two blonde gasped softly in fear until a soft whisper emitted from the same jar. “Chief? Chief, is that you? Chief?”

“Any moment now, men.” Prompto shot back in a deep voice, wincing silently at the exaggerated manner in which he had accidentally spoken in.

A soft choir of approval echoed from each thief, causing Prompto, Cindy and Takka to breathe a silent sigh of relief at their intact stealth. Hurrying toward the front of the wagon, they quickly removed the harness from each chocobo while Takka untied the rope restraints and lifted the wooden barrier from the opposite end of the cart. Ensuring nothing was amiss, Cindy nodded and together the three tilted the wagon upward, causing every single jar to tumble out of the carriage. Cries of panic echoed alongside the ringing of the rolling jars against cobblestone streets, causing a thunderous chaos of sound that immediately jolting awake every sleeping resident within the area.

As the stone jars came to the end of what seemed like a never-ending incline of the city street, the enormous containers shattered against the walls of shops or homes; scattering the various shards and the thief that once occupied the jar across the road. Each of Verstael’s men tried to desperately climb to their feet, only to quickly collide head-first into one another; their heads swimming in agony from the nausea inducing tumble that robbed them of their senses. Shouts of outrage rang across the streets as guards and residents alike flooded the streets to investigate the obnoxious raucous.

“Hurry, get a hold of them!”

“They’re Verstael’s men, quickly now!”

“You scoundrels!”

Prompto and Cindy soon joined the fray, assisting the city guard in locating the thieves so that none were over looked. However, none noticed the sole figure cloaked in a black cloak that blended with the very shadows themselves. Blue eyes observed the chaotic scene with pure anger before he swiftly disappeared into the night….

“Verstael’s men all hung like ripe fruit. And at last it was all over…well, almost. You see, young Prompto then threw a wondrous party to celebrate the defeat of Verstael’s murderous gang.”

Drapes of the finest linen and silk ribbons were strewn tastefully across the large room while plush rugs and soft pillows surrounded a single stone stage in the center. The scent of fresh fruits and sweets perfumed the air alongside fine meats and vegetables, carried upon the trays of hired servants to tend to the visiting guests. Music was provided by a small collection of instruments, adding a pleasant atmosphere to the uproarious laughter and lively conversations.

“We are here today to celebrate,” Prompto called out, calming down the cheering crowd. “Because with the help of my good friend Cindy, Verstael and his gang have been crushed; never to harm another soul again!”

A loud cheer reverberated around the banquet hall which was soon followed by the clicking of goblets as wine flowed freely from cask to glass. “Hey Prompto, ask if Cindy will dance for you. She is a beautiful dancer!”

Prompto turned to his dear friend in surprise. “Really Cindy? I can’t seem manage a single step,” he laughed, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head.

The green-eyed beauty smiled as she rose from her seat and approached the stone stage, careful not to trip on the fabric of her silk dress. “Don’t worry Prompto, I’ll show you.”

A melodious tempo of drums soon sounded across the room, silencing every conversation as Cindy proceeded to elegantly and lightly danced to the music….

Somnus watched in silent awe as you, having risen from your seat atop of the lavish rug, began to sway and dance similarly to the servant girl within your story. He observed the small yet sly smile upon your lips, how your hands twisted into gentle contours while your hips rolled back in forth in time with a music only the two of you could hear, one that your fable had brought to life.

While Somnus was no stranger to the joys of the flesh, he did not actively seek out such company. Such dalliances were expected of a young boy, but a sovereign was meant to lead his people and be an example to all, to be a strong foundation that would hold against any challenge…to be more than a mere man. Yet as Somnus watched you dance; he couldn’t help but drink in the vision you painted as you continued to dance with a fluidity of movement that begot a subtle grace and beauty. He briefly wondered if it was the story that had managed to soothe him and chase away the nightmares…or the storyteller herself.

As Cindy continued to dance, the pace of the music began to quicken with the beat of the drums. Prompto watched in amazement at the beauty his dear friend showcased, barely noticing as she retrieved the sword off of an attending guest. Cindy raised the steel blade high above her head and began to twirl in graceful circles, the tempo of the music increasing with each beat of the drum. But soon Prompto ceased his clapping as he watched with a confused stare at Cindy’s gradual approach to one patron; the best entertainer in all of Duscae that Prompto had hired from the occasion. He moved to rise and speak until Cindy swung the blade high over her head and thrust the sword into the chest of the visiting entertainer.

Every member of the banquet gasped and cried in alarm, moving to intercept Cindy for her act of murder. Prompto was the first to reach her just as the corpse collapsed onto the ground; only to be caught just in time by another attendee. Prompto was on his feet in an instant, staring in shock at the crime the blonde woman had committed. “Cindy, what have you done?”

Instead of speaking, Cindy simply stepped forward and tugged at the man’s beard, revealing it to be naught but a disguise hiding the identity of none other than Verstael. “I saw…I saw him put the disguise on in the alley and-“

Prompto gave a comforting hug to his dear friend, who buried her face within his chest as he let his hand rub soothing circles against her back. “Oh, what would I do without you…”

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

“What happened to Prompto and Cindy afterward?” Somnus asked earnestly.

You smiled, “Prompto had what was perhaps the greatest idea of his life… he married Cindy.”

“He wasn’t clever, but he was lucky…. I suppose he needed someone like Cindy to make sure he made the most of his good fortune.”

“Something like that.”

“Yet everyone forgot that it was he who led his brother Loqi to his death. Prompto receives all of the praise and happiness while Loqi rots away to nothing” Somnus spoke coldly.

You frowned, “Loqi choose his own path, just as Prompto choose his. It was not an outcome Prompto was pleased with, one he would have wished to change with all his heart…but he cannot take full responsibility for his brother’s actions.”

“I doubt that severely.”

“Your Majesty, I know you and your own brother did not have the best ending but-“

Somnus’ expression changed in a heartbeat as anger spilled across his face; with him taking hold of your wrist in a fierce grip that caused you to wince in pain briefly. “Do not speak of things you know nothing about! I did all I could for him and still he clung to his idealistic ways!”

“But do you still care for him? He was your brother.” You asked plainly, not in judgement but in sincerity.

“What does it matter?! My brother is long dead and buried,” Somnus growled out in irritation.

You kept a neutral face despite the pain in your wrist, “death doesn’t change one’s feelings.”

“He was a monster!”

“That does not matter, your Majesty. If you love someone enough… you can forgive them of anything.”

Storm-blue eyes instantly met your own (e/c) eyes before Somnus slowly releasing his hold on you. You instantly pulled your hand closer to your body, instinctively shielding your injury to prevent further harm. A look of guilt flashed across his face before it vanished beneath an expression of pure exhaustion, making the king seem far older than his age. “…It is too late for such a mercy as forgiveness.” Somnus whispered, absent-mindedly spinning the obsidian ring that rested on the middle-finger of his right hand.

“It is never too late,” you replied kindly.

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ringfinger-leonhard · 5 years

Text

Family Reunion

((I am not good with these types of drabbles since my own Family Reunions consist of us insulting each other for two days before parting ways for another few years.

But I hope this will suffice. @yellowfingcr I stole Heysel for this.))

"Are you alright? You look nervous?"

Heysel watched Leonhard bring his shoulders up a little, something she hadn't seen him do for a long time now. Last time was a little after he had joined the Covenant, back when he was still acclimatizing to everything. Seeing him be this nervous before meeting his own family again was worrying and endearing at the same time.

"I am. I haven't seen any of them for... decades, it feels like." Leonhard tried to smile under his mask, to give his voice a more chipper tone. The effort fell flat however. "Don't worry! We shall dazzle them with the sheer beauty of our clothes!" The Yellowfinger put an arm around her friend to pull him closer, a big smile drawn across her features. "For the trouble of getting back here! We will entertain ourselves!" "Hopefully. My family is a handful. Especially with all of my siblings present." "Ah yes... you know, Leona could have told me that you two were siblings. Would have saved her a lot of trouble. And your older brother... Vinfried?" "Vilhelm." "I heard he is a bodyguard for one of the Leaders of Londor? I hope I won't anger him." "He's always angry. Don't pay his misdemeanors any mind, it's just how he is. Beneath his dark armor and cold shoulder, a dark fire drives him forward towards his goals."

They arrived at a large door with a servant standing in front of it, an old lady with a motherly face whose features lit up when her eyes fell on Leonhard.

"Leonhard! Oh, how long it has been! Come in, come in, the Lady, your mother, was already complaining about you being fashionable late again! Who is with you?" "This is Heysel. I will introduce her inside." "Ah, a mysterious woman then? I am intrigued. Welcome to Carim Heysel, I do hope you will like it here. If anything bothers you, the Lord and Lady and myself always have an open ear."

Heysel tried to greet the woman back but she was cut off when the doors opened into a large Ballroom with a silver ceiling, dark blue floors and roughly a hundred people with mostly blueish hair or hues of grey starring into their direction, some at once lighting up with a warm smile, others squinting at her bright yellow attire and belt with the Xanthous Medals. It was very quiet.

"I announce that Leonhard and his friend Lady Heysel have arrived!"

"A woman Leonhard? What a pleasant surprise!" A very old looking man with completely grey, shoulder long hair raised a glass of wine. "Introduce us, introduce us! Don't be a stranger among our family Heysel!"

Heysel smiled and bowed as graceful as she could. Leonhard coughed before raising his voice as well. He had warned her that this would be rather uncomfortable for it was one of the few traditions his family held dear, so it was rather formal and stiff.

"This is Heysel of Farron, Daughter of their last Leader, Xanthous Scholar, Creator of at least two of Farrons Spells, the Soul Darts," a few whistles sounded through the crowd, quite a lot eyebrows were raised and clapping was heard, " and my... colleague within Rosarias Fingers, the Yellowfinger who is the first bastion against those opposing us!" Heysel felt her cheeks flush at all that. She really hadn't ever thought about all the titles and accomplishments she had already, well, stacked on her belt but being introduced like this? It filled her with pride.

"It is my pleasure to be allowed to attend this Family Reunion despite not being part of it."

"Nonsense!" A woman with light blue hair and a matching blue lipstick waved her off. "You are as much family as anyone here. Leo here never had many friends, that he brought you means more than any words." She toasted at her before focusing on stealing a small cake off of one of the other guests plates and was promptly accused of being lazy.

"Leonhard, Heysel! You are late! I told you not to be late, you are late, why didn't you listen!" The familiar voice of Leona was it that broke the spell in the hall and at once chatter and laughter echoed around the room as Leona came towards the pair, a large man in armor in tow who she dragged around by the wrist. Encouraged, Heysel hurried in her direction, followed by the Ringfinger. "Leona. We tried our best but- "Excuses! At least you are here now, Mother and Father are stuck with Aunt Amicia so we have some time for now. Heysel, meet Vilhelm." She took Heysels hand and shoved it into Vilhelms. "Vilhelm, this is Heysel. The woman I told you about."

Vilhelm was taller than Leonhard. It took Heysel a second to process it. This man was Leonhards brother. Steel grey eyes, long black and blue hair in a ponytail and scars going across his brows and jaw, a hard to read posture and features.

"Uh... pleasant to meet you."

Vilhelm scrutinized her face but then tightened his grip a little to shake her hand, finally a tick of a smirk moving his lips a little.

"Likewise. Leona told me a lot about you. Got to admit- I wasn't sure who to expect." He released her hand and turned to Leonhard, clapping his upper arm with a friendly amount of force. "And you? Have you finally come out of your shell a bit, baby brother?" "Shut up." "Seems unlikely." Vilhelm threw Heysel a small wink. "Takes a while to warm up to him, eh?" "Oh yes. We killed each other a few times." "A good bonding activity." Others around them nodded in agreement or shouted an 'Aye, aye' before downing their wine glasses.

Heysel watched the three siblings chatting amicably, Leona explaining the new forms of magic they were discovering in Vinheim with gusto, Vilhelm feigning interest but casually drinking glass after glass and Leonhard actually being interested but not drinking. A hand was placed on her shoulder, so Heysel turned around.

Golden eyes met hers. It was a woman with long dark brown hair and crowfeet, deep smile lines and a round, motherly face. She wore a simple dress in an orange shade.

"Are you feeling at home?" Her voice was soft and quiet.

"Oh yes. I'm just not used to these gatherings anymore." Heysel felt some of her nerves relax at once. The woman smelled like spring.

"Me too. I am not the most social person. Guess Leonhard got that trait from me."

It took Heysel a few moments for the words to sink in. But the second it all clicked, her eyes widened.

"You are his mother?"

The woman laughed and finally took her hand from Heysels shoulder to smooth her hair back."Unbelievable isn't it? My name is Laila and this-" She turned a little and pulled a tall man to her. "This is my husband and Leonhard father, Estienne."

Estienne was as tall as Vilhelm, effectively dwarfing his two other children and wife. A sharp face with wrinkles concentrated on his forehead, short blueish black hair with a few graying parts and stern, grey eyes. Heysel felt a little intimidated until Estienne smiled with the warmth that Laila wore all the time. His voice was a deep vibrato, it felt like it rattled her bones a little.

"Welcome Heysel. Both Leona and Leonhard are rather impressed with you. One could say, enchanted even. I am glad that you decided to accompany my son. He can be... difficult sometimes."

"He got that from you."

With a helpless shrug, Estienne finally addressed Leonhard who had stood with his back turned to them. "And you? Instead of greeting your parents properly, you just care about your brother and sister."

Leonhard whirled around with a surprised yelp but no training or reflex saved him from being pulled into an embrace by his father.

"You haven't grown at all!" "I'm an adult Father."

"Not adult enough to send a letter once in a while!" Laila shoved her husband off Leonhard and hugged him even tighter, a hug that was returned hesitantly. "I forgot Mother." "I know, I know. It's just nice to know you and Vihelm are still alive. You both are terrible at keeping contact."

Vilhelm grimaced a little, grabbed two glasses of wine, gave one to Heysel and drank his own in one go, earning him a slap from Leona. Heysel sipped her wine a bit, drank the glass and got a new one from Estienne while she warmed up the the quirky group of Carimians.

"Psst, Vilhelm?" "Huh?" The Knight was properly intoxicated at this point, only listening whenever an Aunt or Uncle made fun of Leonhard, a sport that seemed to follow the Ringfinger from Carim to Lothric. Heysel was already well respected for her stories, some of which Leonhard had groaned audibly to before starting to drink as well. "Why has everyone blue hair dye?" Vilhelm starred at her in confusion. Suddenly he threw his head back and laughed, clasping her shoulder with enough force to make her stumble. "Heysel! Didn't you know?" "Know what?" "Blue is a natural hair color here." "What." "Leonhard had that color too. Leona is the only one who doesn't have it. Must be the air or water in Vinheim." A muffled "Shut up, asshole!" came from somewhere in the crowd, followed by a "Leona! Swear bucket!". "I kind of thought Carimians were lying about that." "Maybe we are. Maybe we aren't." Vilhelm grabbed an entire bottle of a servants plate and chugged it. With a shrug, Heysel followed suit.

By the end of the night, Heysel knew more about Leonhard than before, enough to blackmail him later, lest his childhood stories be spread around Lothric as well.

#drabble

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