#caliope burns

[ai-yo]

Watch "Why Did First Kill Fail & Why Save It? 🩸" on YouTube

I was planning to make a video on First Kill myself had the 1st draft all laid out, but then Princess Weekes came through and basically said everything I wanted to say and more.

[savefirstkillofficial]

We have the same question

[bittergirlsworld]

Fuck Netflix because first kill was sensational

[hells-greatest-performers]

Yes very cute 🥰! *Immediatly changes to serious face* But don't you dare take her away now! This is just a temporary state brought on by a magical mishap from Caliope. Once Lucifer and Alastor have changed them back, she won't want to life with you! Remember you made your choice years ago when you threw a tantrum and dissapeared and left Verena with Alastor and Lucifer. Even if you are a better father for Virgil now, you lost your chance with Verena back then! If you want to be in her life again you need to behave and show Alastor and Lucifer that you have changed. But you can't expect her to accept you as her father. Maybe she might see you as an uncle in the future. But she is not your daughter anymore!

Vox: *has the adoption certificate and sets it on fire, burning it to ashes* Whoops. Guess she’s mine once more. And I won’t let Lucifer or Alastor turn her back. I’ll raise her right this time. With Virgil! She’s my daughter and he’s my son! This is my family!

[wanderingchocolateeclair]

hhh circus of death au <3 (<- contains so much love) --

You’re strangled, choking in the middle of an audience, all eyes on you and on nothing else. Isn’t it grand to be in the center of everything? Worthless urchin, greedy dancer, graceful thing. Shouldn’t you be grateful that you at least get to die pretty? You get to die, that's the thing. This is it. It's almost over, almost done.

You get to engrave your struggles and the way your tears roll down and fall to the floor, the way your cries are caught by the cloth of the circus’ tent. What a blessing- what a curse- every performer's envy, the end, your swan song, your falling curtain.

There you dangle, held by the things that killed you and kept you alive, the centerpiece of this macabre and threadbare performance. Real or not real? Your head swims through the thick haze of being alive. Not enough air. So many eyes. Is this happening? Your hands are bloodied and clawing at your silks. Your hands are gouging red lines into your throat and jaw, skin peeling apart as your body fights for air. Your body thrashes. Twitches. The throes of a dying thing. The strings aren't cut. You would be screaming if you could. Choked and tangled noises coming from your lips.

It hurts. 

You try not to move because moving pulls the silks tighter around your throat. It’s warm, too warm, and the music of the circus and the haze of bright colours spin around you. Your funeral march is played by trumpets. The gorgeous caliope, sound blaring bright and cheery, carrying for miles. It drowns out the murmuring of the audience. Maybe it smothers the screams. Is that you? Is that them?

Do they think you’re pretty? Do they think this is entertaining? Do they think that this is horrible, horrifying, and they wish you would just die already? You don't know which one's worse. Which one's better.

You hate them. You love them. It's all you have left. 

You gag at the influx of saliva pooling around your tongue. You do wish you would die already. Or not. The audience, it all depends on the audience, remember? 

Smile, ariealist. Smile as you die, smile as your body stills and rigor mortis sets in- the maggots crawling in you, you can feel them crawling across your skin. You haven't even died yet.

Or is that just the crowd's gaze? The ringmaster's gaze? 

Your head smiles as it’s tangled in the silk strands you loved so much in life. 

Your body falls to the floor, painting it a lovely, brilliant red, matching with the red stripes on the tent. 

The show goes on. It must always go on. It will be. It’s the last show, your last show, and it will keep on going on after your death. Atop your body, even. Will your head be called a token of luck, good or bad?

But fire will always catch where there is kindling. Your body will burn on the pyre. Your head will remain, ever-smiling, ever rotting, in that perpetual state of being. Unless- unless, unless... 

-- -story anon

:D

WOO STORY ANON AT IT AGAIN WITH THE BANGERS!!

MY FAVOURITE SNIPPET <3333

the imagery, the scene, the sounds and colours <333

[cassandthings]

general 1, story 15, romance 1 for calliope?

Hi Nonny! For Miss Caliope:

Gen 1: Where can your Tav be recruited?

I'm going to say she'd be at Waukeen's Rest. Caliope is a Noble-born Sorcerer, so she'd likely have sought out what seemed to be the most well-to-do establishment in the area - before the Drow attack.

Likely she was in one of the extra rooms resting and planning when the Inn was attacked, never really aware that Duke Ravengard had been there.

She'd be recruitable after getting Florrick out of the burning Inn, seen helping to put the flames out. It might take some convincing, some smooth talking, but in the end she'll accept help.

Story 15: How do they react when the Dark Urge first reveals their amnesia and murderous thoughts to them?

Caliope has a sharp tongue and isn't afraid to be rude or sarcastic, so she wouldn't hesitate to say how unsettling she finds the murderous thoughts and to keep away from her at night. She'd be curious about the amnesia, though, and if it could be cured.

Romance 1: Is your Tav a romanceable character? Are there any specific requirements to romancing them?

I'd say yes, she's romanceable! And as much as she likes to portray a well-put-together and sharp front, she gets very easily flustered when flirted with. Like, insanely flustered, to the point of being tongue tied and excusing herself from conversations.

Specific requirements would probably be making sure to talk to her frequently, giving her nice armor and weapons (I know gifting isn't a mechanic in BG3, but still), and generally working toward the aim of getting rid of the tadpoles. No controlling them here.

Hopefully that's at least somewhat interesting! Ty for the ask! ♥

[ainyan]

Humor Pancakes

“I want pancakes.”

They lay together in her bed, legs and tails all tangled together as they both stared up at the arching ceiling above and struggled to catch their breath. As G’raha Tia finally managed to draw air into his aching lungs, he disentangled himself and rolled over on his side, propping himself up on one elbow to gaze down at Ainyan’s lazy, satisfied smile. “Do you know how to make pancakes?” he asked, intrigued.

Lapiz eyes met scarlet as she gave a lazy shrug. “How hard can it be?” she asked practically. “I’ve managed to make Severian’s tortuous concoctions to meet his exacting specifications, and you’ve followed the ins and outs of some of the most complicated spells Y’shtola’s ever seen. Surely we can make a simple batch of pancakes.”

The once-Exarch was not quite so sanguine, but he was hardly in the mood to argue with his impetuous lover. “Very well. Have you a recipe for us to follow?”

Energized, she bounced out of the bed and he watched her go, biting back a sigh. He was far too familiar with the other miqo’te’s inability to sit still to do more than regret the lack of cuddling. Then she was sending him an impatient look and he grinned wryly, then slid from the bed and began to gather up his scattered clothes.

By the time he was dressed, she had already dashed ahead towards the kitchen, and he followed at a more sedate pace. “Did you find a recipe?” he asked as he watched her dart about the room, dragging dishes from the cupboards.

“Yep,” came her distracted reply as she crawled up on the counter to peer into one of the upper cabinets. “‘S there, on the counter.”

He picked up the book - which looked about as old as his soul - and gingerly studied the page it was open to. It seemed a simple enough recipe. “Do we have all of these ingredients?"

She pulled a coffee mug from the cabinet and set it on the counter beside her, then nimbly hopped down. “Probably. Maybe. I dunno. I’m sure if we don’t, we can substitute something, right? Aren’t cooks always doing that?”

A bit more uneasy than before, G’raha set the book back on the counter. “Wouldn’t you rather just go out?” he asked delicately. “There are four or five decent eateries within walking distance of the apartment, and I know how you favor Ul’dahn cuisine.”

Pausing on her way to the pantry, Ainyan swung around to stare at him in surprise. “G’raha Tia, Crystal Exarch, you once traveled across the rift on a song and a prayer. You pulled me across the rift with even less surety.” He watched as she crossed to him and held open his arms, marveling once again at the way they simply fit together. “Are you telling me you’re afraid to wing a simple recipe for pancakes?”

He bent his head the fraction of an ilm between them, once again savoring the fact that there was little difference in their heights. “No,” he replied, his breath warm against her lips, “of course not.” It would do no good, he knew, to voice his misgivings; he could see her mind was made up. “Shall we begin, then?”

She beamed up at him and pressed her mouth against his in a brief, heated kiss. “Yes!” Before he could tighten his grip, she wriggled free and dashed back into the kitchen. “A coffee cup will work for a cup, right?” she asked as he followed. “I don’t have any measuring tools, but it’s close enough, isn’t it?”

With a completely internal sigh, G’raha began to shuffle through spells in his mind that might just salvage this experiment as he joined his lover at the counter.

*****

“Maybe a cup isn’t a cup,” Ainyan pouted as she studied the burned, lumpy, misshapen stack of pancakes teetering on the plate. “Or maybe there is a difference between baking powder and baking soda.”

G’raha stood behind her, his hands on her hips as he rested his chin on her shoulder, trying his hardest to bite back a rueful smile. “Perhaps. Come on, love,” he murmured, turning his head to nuzzle against her cheek. “Caliope’s is still open; we can get something to eat there.”

Lapiz eyes gazed unhappily at him. “I wanted to make you something tasty,” she muttered, her voice soft and pained.

He couldn’t hold back the smile any longer and nipped at her bottom lip. “My love,” he assured her, “nothing could be tastier than you,” and her blush made him laugh deep in his chest, “but we need real food first.”

Sighing, Ainyan turned to wrap her arms around his neck and press a soft kiss to his mouth. “Oh, very well. Come along, Raha,” she murmured. “Let’s go get dressed and get some food. Maybe Caliope knows how to make pancakes,” she added, perking up.

If she didn’t, the Exarch reflected as he allowed the Warrior to drag him into the bedroom to dress, he’d scour the whole city to find someone who did.

Anything to spare him another experiment like the last.

Old Fashioned Pancakes

Ingredients 1 ½ cups all-purpose flour 3 ½ teaspoons baking powder 1 tablespoon white sugar ¼ teaspoon salt, or more to taste 1 ¼ cups milk 3 tablespoons butter, melted 1 egg

Directions

Sift flour, baking powder, sugar, and salt together in a large bowl. Make a well in the center and add milk, melted butter, and egg; mix until smooth.

Heat a lightly oiled griddle or pan over medium-high heat. Pour or scoop the batter onto the griddle, using approximately 1/4 cup for each pancake; cook until bubbles form and the edges are dry, about 2 to 3 minutes. Flip and cook until browned on the other side. Repeat with remaining batter.

[agaggleoffandoms]

I've been binging First Kill this weekend and I would just like to say that the Burns went overboard in decorating a house that they intended to only live in for a few months. I just find it highly unlikely that Caliope would unpack her room with the knowledge they wouldn't be there for long. Alternatively, she'd have like 3 posters and no plants.

[oldtvandcomics]

Random thought: Hey, someone must have already made a “better love story than Twilight” meme with First Kill, right?

[doanimalshaveasenseofself]

THEY CANCELED FIRST KILL?? WHY.

WHEN IS IT MY TURN TO BE HAPPY?

Can someone who knows about it tell me why exactly it was canceled? Was it really the viewership like they claimed?

Cause i am genuinely so confused. I loved the show, i think the plot waa good, the actors and characters were AMAZING and they set up for the second season well.

It's just unfair how queer shows have to be OUTSTANDING to be renewed. We've seen way too many shows with shitty plotlines get more seasons.

Also I just found out that it did better than heartstopper? So is it just wlw rep that's taking a hit?

[taylor144]

The theme song is such a banger I cant get it out of my head lol

[dr-drea]

Because I loved the Calliette/Romeo&Juliet parallels so much...

Imagine First Kill being renewed and every new season was referencing a different Shakespeare play. I could really see Elinor getting a Macbeth storyline, for example.

[sequere-vestiga]

I am aggrieved. "Oh since first kill got cancelled you can just read the book instead".

It's a goddamn short story :((( It covers what? Just the first episode. This does not quench my thirst.

[whumpingmydarlings]

V.E. Schwab should expand the OG short after the Netflix cancellation and make bank. Loophole S2 lets gooooo, lesbians! 🥲

[subtle-carrot]

Well, I guess I’m poking this bear of a fandom. Here’s my video on First Kill, individualism and queer coding.

[tuckamore]

Damn they really got a kind of Romeo and Juliet ending here, huh?