#explain this photo to a victorian child

[frankenruth]

Ricky ilysm but what the hell was this

[ 📷 : some theatre company !!]

[cyclic-abelian]

Not to long after i finished reading ORV i made this huge as timeline to try and explain all the events that occurred. I'm not sure how the quality will turn out so here's a link to the board just incase https://miro.com/app/board/uXjVPIxRxEE=/?share_link_id=227892337635 I think this was the most KDJ thing i did before my friend took a polaroid photo of me on my birthday (Feb 14th which is even worse) and the sun glare perfectly censored my face. I was also wearing a white trenchcoat at the time?? it happened numerous times no matter how many locations we did like i was some haunted Victorian child.

[snootlestheangel]

Random COD headcanons

Soap and Gaz constantly argue like an old Victorian couple

Gaz used to be a really bad germophobe. He's gotten better about it, but there's definitely situations/days that he just is so clean and paranoid about germs that he will seclude himself in an office. Doesn't necessarily mean it's his office, it could be Price's or Ghost's. It's almost never Soap's but he never explains why. (I will be expanding on this hc in the future)

Ghost makes really realistic animal noises

Price had a very brief punk phase during his teen years

Price was actually a horribly misbehaved child. We can still see remnants of this in his feralness as Captain.

I am also in agreement with the idea that Ghost has an iron stomach and just eats whatever. However, he tried sparkling water once and immediately spat it out, gagged, and went "BAD"

Price, while in the US, once tried Southern sweet tea, and he secretly craves it every day.

Soap started his punk phase as a teenager and still hard commits when he's home on leave. It's become a running joke in his family during the holidays to always have his weird looking ass (affectionate) in the photos

Gaz definitely got in trouble staying up late but for like nerdy shit, and never anything cool, like sneaking out to parties. (said with as much love as possible, I adore the idea of Gaz being a big fucking nerd)

Ghost is like a bird whisperer or something. He can just be chilling on a park bench and suddenly there's a flock of birds on/around him

Soap is a carbon copy of his father. They just look so much alike it's terrifying, and then they have very similar personalities

Gaz is scared of horses (idk why this feels right but it does)

[wilbursprincess]

Princebur headcanons with modern!reader (idk what terminology you use; you can make it nsfw if you want to)

where Princebur somehow time travelled to the modern times, now lives with them for some reason & gets confused by the contemporary society (bonus if reader's internet famous (to add confusion) but lacks in essential in Princebur's timeline skills)

[I imagine Princebur to be bewildered at the lack of horseriding skills but be terrified by how fast they drive a car. Or be like: "What do you mean I'd be arrested for carrying a sword?! I'm the prince of this nation!" "What are hot single mom's & why are they in your area?"]

Princebur Time Travelling

Princebur x Modern Reader

Warnings: Mentions of sex

Hi anon! This request is amazing, and you know how much I love Princebur!

Headcannons below cut!

~This man would be so confused. Like what you think would happen if you gave a Victorian child a McDonald’s burger.

~You were so glamorous to him!

~He was so used to seeing the women around the castle in rough, beige dresses and minimal bathing.

~But you were an enigma.

~Wilbur would be in awe of your extensive wardrobe, bright colors, and how good you smelled.

~Even royals wouldn’t bathe much in his time period, and he was all over the fact you had a shower.

~Not to mention running hot water and so many kinds of soap!

~You’d show him your phone and try and explain what it did.

~”So it’s like… writing letters? And they arrive, like, immediately? On the other… thing?”

~Once he understands photos (somewhat), you try and show him social media.

~”You really care so much about what other people eat and somehow want to remember it with a photo?”

~Online dating is what shocks him the most.

~”So your parents don’t decide your husband? And you can find them… on the interface?”

~Cars scare the life out of him, not to mention the lack of horses.

~”I’d go to jail if I carried my sword? But I’m a prince!”

~Sex was one of the best discoveries he made.

~”You can prevent pregnancy and actually do this for fun?”

~You had plenty of experience, and he had none. Even just a blowjob had him unable to stand afterwards!

~Wilbur was so cute, being in awe of every single thing you thought was mundane.

~You’d happily spend the rest of your life showing him the modern world.

[sketch-guardian]

Is it alright if I ask for all the RAD classmates with a child reader who’s kind of creepy

Like child mc wears maybe morute or Shiro Lolita and just doesn’t respond much, like everyone barely hears their voice because all they do is just stare and watch you with this creepy bear in their hands. It’s kinda like those creepy kids in horror movies

Of course it's alright✨there's no problem with such ask☺As usual, although I don't think there is any need to specify since it should be obvious, the headcanons with child MC are platonic and contain family dynamics, so the OCs in question are like child MC's legal guardians. Now let's start:

"RAD CLASSMATES+NEW EXCHANGE STUDENTS WITH A CREEPY CHILD MC"

DEMYA

I'm not sure how to explain this without trigger warnings, but Demya in the past, and even currently depending on the case, has devoured both humans and other demons, she was also raised in a tribe of bloodthirsty and flesh-eating demons, therefore she can be defined as...occasionally cannibal and it's very unlikely that a mere creepy child like MC would actually manage to disturb her, indeed Demya would even find child MC cute like a doll or they would remind her a bit of herself when she was welcomed by Azul and Domnra a long time ago, barely able to speak, with disheveled hair, deadpan eyes and mouth dripping with blood. Furthermore, Demya would instinctively understand what child MC would try to mean even if they don't communicate much, having personally experienced a non-verbal phase for a period of her life. Demya would also believe that child MC's staring is equivalent to studying a prey before attacking, a little like an animal, behavior that makes sense to her, even if Demya is more impulsive. If child MC would like to, Demya could teach them how to run on all fours or train them to be flexible, which for her would be pretty fun, in fact it would be hilarious to see people like Mammon or Levi terrified running away from child MC who chases them like a spider-

DOMNRA/MOBIM

Domnra has a fairly gothic/emo look so to speak, so although in terms of style it might seem at odds with child MC, he would appreciate the horror air that surrounds them, even if it would take him a while to get used to child MC's intense staring, which would sometimes make him uncomfortable. Domnra would have no problem understanding child MC's quiet way of communicating, used to Mobim expressing itself solely with gestures and squeaks, sometimes the three of them could even not speak at all and simply enjoy time together listening to some music or perhaps with some workouts, but very light things, like Domnra doing push-ups with Child MC and Mobim on his back. Furthermore, Domnra is still friends with Azul and Demya, which makes him automatically a dumbass, so in a rare playful mood, Domnra might find funny letting MC walk around with Mobim in their arms like a teddy bear, only to scare other people as soon as they realize the little curse moves and is alive. Speaking of which, Mobim would love to cuddle with child MC, not finding them creepy and it would play with their toys

AZUL

Azul floats around, walks through walls and some of his acquaintances are literally ghosts, plus he raised Demya when she was in her most uncivilized and feral state, so the silence wouldn't be a problem (he talks enough for both-) and child MC could never result disturbing for Azul, in fact since their clothing styles are similar, it could seem that they're trying to match or they could be really mistaken for a father with his child, which Azul wouldn't mind at all, he would find the opportunity to show off their family photos that he has in his wallet. Azul and child MC would go on little trips to haunted houses, he would also make their toys dance or float, and paint Victorian-style portraits of the two of them together. Would Azul make the pictures move to scare those who come to visit for shits and giggles? Obviously-

ZURI

Zuri would immediately notice child MC's peculiar behavior and that most would find it creepy, especially due to the intense staring and silence, however as long as child MC is healthy and happy, Zuri would pay no mind to it, she would also provide a plausible explanation to impertinent questions regarding MC's behavior. Zuri would be able to appreciate child MC's style and would contribute to the buying or weaving of clothes of their taste, then walking together through the streets of Devildom like two fashion icons. Zuri is the type to spoil child MC with gifts and trinkets, without exaggerating of course, but she would also make sure to decorate child MC's room to their liking. Moreover, Zuri would buy a notebook for child MC with which to communicate through writing or drawing

ODON

Odon involuntarily terrifies almost everyone they meet and their wide smile has often creeped out those around them. Odon has also been compared to the boogeyman several times and their past precedes them, instilling fear in beings who remember them, even though they have changed for the better, therefore a disturbing child MC would not even appear as such to Odon, on the contrary they would simply be surprised by the fact that child MC wants to spend time with them and that they aren't afraid, in a certain sense Odon could understand being judged for their own ways of acting. Odon likes to observe people as well, so them and child MC would share such hobby, spending time together. Odon's eye-like creatures would act as little bodyguards, understanding what child MC needs even before they attempt to communicate. Also Odon's style seems similar to dark cottagore, but they don't have a clear opinion on styles, whatever child MC likes is fine

REMIEL

Remiel, as an angel of death with little experience with the world of the living, has no idea what according to human custom is normal or not for a child and is hardly impressed by what people would deem scary, in general she's still slowly learning feelings and how to experience or show them, so she would treat child MC as she would any other child. Child MC's habit of staring at people would be fine for Remiel, because she also likes to learn how the world works and to do so sometimes you have to limit yourself to observing. Not gonna lie, a creepy child MC with Remiel, who looks as a corpse-like angel of death, would be disturbing to almost anyone, a real shame since both Remiel and child MC are innocent precious treasures. Despite her somber and gloomy nature, Remiel is very empathetic, although blunt, therefore she would understand when child MC tries to communicate. Remiel and child MC could occasionally be seen together wandering around libraries or graveyards to check if there are lost souls to help

NATHANIEL

Nathaniel in some ways wouldn't be too different from this version of child MC, both being taciturn and seemingly stoic enough to give off creepy vibes. Nathaniel would have boundless patience with child MC when they try to express themselves in words and if someone dared to interrupt them in the process, Nathaniel would politely but firmly remind that child MC was talking and would let them continue with some soft encouragement and reassurance. Nathaniel would probably teach child MC his way of communicating through gestures and nods, going so far as to understand each other even with just a glance, making others wonder if they are actually having a conversation telepathically. Nathaniel would also find child MC's style curious, almost reminding him of how some young angels dress

URIEL

The warrior angel would have no idea whether child MC's behavior is normal by human standards or what is typically creepy, however the question she would ask herself most frequently would be why child MC bothered to become attached to her, someone who doesn't have a very understanding attitude, but Uriel would be able to live with the idea with time. Uriel wouldn't care if child MC stares at her or other people, she doesn't know that it's usually rude and she honestly thinks it's just child MC's way of admiring those they deem worthy of esteem and their way of dressing would remind Uriel of the concept of purity, which she would approve of. Uriel might seem harsh sometimes as she would try to push child MC to speak more often, since she wouldn't know how to interpret all their actions, however if she notices that child MC risks withdrawing even more, then Uriel would swallow her pride and make an effort, taking advantage of her years of experience with Nathaniel to communicate better. It would also be quite funny to see Uriel believe that child MC's teddy bear is a strange unpractical soft shield at first and give them a wooden toy sword after, because it's unsafe to go unarmed

[doll-elvis]

** warning drama ahead **

Regarding plagiarism and @lettersfromvenus:

I definitely did not envision this to be my first post back from the break that I’ve been on from posting but after my lengthy exchange with her last night I’d just like to clear the air and explain the situation from a different point of view as I believe lettersfromvenus has been dishonest to her audience

** but before I even get into all of that I would like to sincerely apologize if you have messaged me, replied to one of my posts or sent in an ask, I am going to start working on getting back to everyone as soon as possible- I cannot even explain how much I have missed being active on here and I’d like to give a huge thank you to all the elvis fans and blogs out there because y’all have been keeping my moral high 🫡

my immune system decided to quit a little over a week ago and what I thought was a normal cold/flu turned out to be pneumonia of all things. even though I lowkey almost died from it when I first got it as a kid, I don’t remember it being this exhausting?? I’ve been bedridden like a victorian child and have been reminiscing on all the times that I had an appetite and could stand up without losing my breath

literally me since last thursday

** as for the situation regarding lettersfromvenus **

a few days ago it was brought to my attention that some accusations were being made against her after I saw an ask that was sent to another Elvis blog on here. She was being accused, by the original author, of copying a fic (word for word) from wattpad (including the title and cover-art) and posting it on here as though it was her own work

here is that post from the og author ⬇️

I always try to be as neutral as possible but after reading posts from both @ladiilokii and lettersfromvenus, I ultimately decided that the latter was clearly in the wrong and that her explanations made no sense and did nothing but pivot the blame

and so I left this exact comment on ladiilokii’s post to show support ⬇️

** “at first I was going to give her the benefit of the doubt but her responses to your messages are just insane, I’m so sorry this happened!! I’ve unfollowed her and reported her post, I can’t believe she is refusing to take it down after being caught red-handed 🤧” **

“insane” was a harsh word to use but that is the only word that came to mind after reading lettersfromvenus’ responses to being called out

she claimed that she was sent prompts/scenarios by an anonymous person and that she then wrote the fic based on those prompts, which just magically happened to be the exact same, word for word, as ladiilokii’s og fic. not only is that impossible, but it also doesn’t account for the stolen cover-art as an anonymous person cannot send a photo through the inbox, their username would have to be public

letterfromvenus then admitted to the og auther (pictured below) that she got the cover-art directly from the original fic on wattpad

** “all I did was steal the title and the picture because it had fit so well with what I thought my fic”-lettersfromvenus ** im sorry but how do you “think”something is your fic? you either wrote it or you didn’t…

lettersfromvenus’ full direct message to ladiilokii ⬇️

these explanations made zero sense to me and the lack of accountability on her part is astounding- she basically said “your work was amazing, they meant for it to be copied” ?!?

Much like the og author, I don’t believe that lettersfromvenus was sent any prompts by an anonymous person. I think she found the original fic and posted it as her own work thinking nobody would know where she got it from as it was originally posted in a vast collection of one-shots

I can’t speak to experience of being a writer but I could imagine it would be incredibly disheartening to have someone else take the credit and reap the rewards of all the hard work, effort, and time that goes into writing a fic

and so that was my involvement in the situation. like I mentioned I did decide to unfollow her because I thought it was unfair/dishonest how lettersfromvenus was making ladiilokii out to be the aggressor even though she had every right to call out the person who was stealing her fic

but nonetheless I didn’t say anything to lettersfromvenus and I just hoped that she would learn from her mistakes and offer a more sincere apology and explanation in the future

flashforward some days later to yesterday, when around 5:40pm, I got sent an anonymous ask which had a link to a new post from lettersfromvenus. obviously there is no way to prove who sent in the ask but I had my suspicions that it was her as she directly addressed the og comment that I made on ladiilokii’s post, in her new post⬇️

(https://www.tumblr.com/lettersfromvenus/730026135806722048/okay-so-i-swore-right-down-to-not-waste-my-time-on?source=share)

in retrospect I shouldn’t have engaged but I just couldn’t believe that she was trying to twist the situation and make it seem like she was getting all this unwarranted hate when in reality this was started by her when she consciously decided to steal another person’s work, and then refused to accept any blame. I still stand by my reasonings to unfollow and report her for the stolen fic

and so I commented on lettersfromvenus’ new post (linked above) to clarify again why I decided to unfollow her, as she questioned why I did. I wanted to be as frank as possible and so I wished her the best, but I maintained that I wouldn’t support her work in the future and that I thought the og author deserved a better/more truthful explanation

unfortunately I was blocked by her after our back and forth so I can’t see all of my og comments but here are some of hers and mine that I was able to sc beforehand⬇️

may or may not have had a friend send me more sc of the convo after I was blocked ⬇️

“I did not plagiarize the fic” are you sure about that?

courtesy of @ladiilokii ⬇️ (lettersfromvenus is left, og author is right)

some other screenshots⬇️

“you’re literally blaming me for shit out of my control”- it wasn’t out of your control, you purposefully did what you did and instead of openly admitting to it, you’re pivoting the blame onto an “anonymous” sender (which she has still shown no proof of)

and even if someone did send you a complete fic in your inbox, you are still obligated to say that it is not your own original work if you post it, it is still plagiarizing even if the author is anonymous

** btw this was the caption of the fic she posted that she stole from ladiilokii- “Writing takes a lot of time, so please make sure to support us writers” writing does indeed take time… copying and pasting does not **

and please the irony of saying this fandom is toxic for calling you out for stealing another fan’s work- like ma’am take a look in the mirror before calling other people toxic 🤧

my patience is now non-existent regarding this person so I’m sorry if I’m crass but if her idea of “hard work” is copying and pasting a fic and stealing the title/cover-art, then yeah that deserves to be discredited, like what do you expect??

since I was blocked I can’t see my comment anymore but I mentioned how she admitted to stealing the cover-art and that she should have given credit for that, and she then replied that her stealing was essentially justified because the author who made the cover-art didn’t credit the photographer that took the photos of Elvis ⬇️

she also went on to say that everyone who writes the word “Elvis” is plagiarizing Gladys because she created Elvis- I hope she stretched before she made that reach

we only went back and forth for like 15 minutes but my head still hurts from it. she was just impossible to reason with, she had zero accountability, and at times I felt like I was speaking to an actual toddler… she even told me to go back to elementary school to get common sense 💀

me engaging with her on that post proved to be futile, but I can’t say that I fully regret it because this clearly shows her lack of a moral code as a writer (thou shall not plagiarize)

I hate for this to be my first post back and I do know that I am contributing to the drama (for better or for worse) by making this lengthy ass post but that whole exchange with her truly shocked me and I just couldn’t keep quiet about it, especially when she has gone to her followers and made herself out to be the victim, and made others out to be the aggressors… my brain cannot compute the fact that she is trying to garner sympathy from this

** however, I by no means, wish for any hate sent to her about this. some of my comments and rebuttals have been snippy & I definitely lost patience in all of this but I don’t know how old this person is, she could be 12 for all I know, and I think we have probably all been guilty of doing dumb things on the internet. From my understanding she did end up deleting the fic at the og authors request **

I made this post in hopes that it provides some clarity to the situation and in hopes that I could show the conversation with as much transparency as possible as since I’m blocked I’m slightly worried that she is making me out to seem like I instigated this when I only directly spoke to her once I saw that her post mentioned my comment

to me this situation wasn’t even really about who was involved, it was about the principle of it because no matter who the person is, plagiarism is wrong on all of counts. if someone plagiarized lettersfromvenus’ original work in the future, I would still speak to her defense because no one deserves to have that happen to them

if there is anything you would like to do, please show some love and support to @ladiilokii , the original author of “Welcome to Detroit, Baby” <3

anyways- I cannot wait to get back to my original schedule of posting, I’ve been on a break for only 11 days but my god it has felt like an eternity 😭

[lisbeth-kk]

December moments

Prompt used in this chapter: toys

They’re curled up under a blanket on the sofa, Sherlock leaning his back into John’s chest, their cheeks touching. John’s strong arms encircle Sherlock’s torso and white and green candles are creating flickering shadows on the walls. A perfect evening for a quiet conversation.

December 28

Classical music plays from the music device and suddenly a question pops into John’s mind. 

“Did you have any favourite toys as a child or was it just the violin and your chemistry set that caught your attention?” he asks his love. 

“Ah, interesting question. I take it you didn’t open the old suitcase under my bed at my parent’s, then,” Sherlock smirks. 

John can’t for the life of him remember any suitcase. His brain had been otherwise occupied while they visited his soon-to-be-in-laws.

“You know I didn’t,” John huffs, but gives Sherlock a kiss on his temple. 

Sherlock hums affirmatively and pecks John’s cheek before he, for the umpteenth time, surprises John with another unknown fact about himself. 

“One December day, the year before I turned six, my father took me to Hamleys on Regent Street for the first time. He’d found a time of day when it wasn’t that crowded, and it was…”

Sherlock trails off and steeples his fingers under his chin, before he continues, making good use of his hands when he explains to John about the wonders of London’s most famous toy store. John can totally picture the curly-headed boy wide-eyed and overwhelmed by all the treats the seven-floor store contained. 

“When we came up to the 5th floor, everything else I’d seen that far, dissipated. At a small table, a boy one year older than me, sat and built LEGO. Not the boxes they sell nowadays, but the retro pieces where you had to use your own imagination to build something. There were no pictures with instructions, just pieces in different sizes and colours. I was enthralled and I made quite a fuss when Father said that we had to leave.”

John chuckles and has no problem envisioning this. Sherlock’s sulks and pouts are legendary, and John’s witnessed quite a few over the years. Sherlock harrumphs disapprovingly, but John knows he’s only acting. 

“So, I guess you got tons of LEGO that Christmas?” John inquires while stroking Sherlock chest. 

“I did, and all the pieces are placed in the aforementioned suitcase,” Sherlock explains. “There are probably some photos of my creations in Mummy’s photo albums too.”

“You must show me the next time we visit,” John says. “Have you been back to Hamleys as an adult?”

Sherlock twists his head to get a good look at John, clearly to deduce if the question is seriously intended. When he finds no evidence of mischief, he rolls his eyes. 

“Why on earth would I go there now, unless…”

“Unless someone was found dead on the premises?” John finishes with a voice full of mirth. 

“Exactly!” Sherlock exclaims. “I saw a group of women coming out of the shop this summer. They were all acting totally…ridiculous. Laughing and telling each other how much fun they had in there, and they didn’t have any children with them, though I guess the youngest one, probably eighteen, might have been the daughter of one of the ladies, but…”

“I adore when you get this agitated about such things, my love. They were probably tourists. And it’s an experience quite a few adults have on their bucket list when they visit London, whether they have kids or not. I think it’s lovely that they were so happy about it,” John states. 

“Sometimes you say the strangest things, John,” Sherlock murmurs, shifts in John’s arms and nuzzles closer to John’s neck and his favourite cuddle position. 

Read it on AO3

@totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @a-victorian-girl @phoenix27884 @safedistancefrombeingsmart @sabsi221b @gregorovitchworld @helloliriels @raina-at @peanitbear @topsyturvy-turtely

[camusscigarette]

Gimmie the Bedelia and Hannibal Headcannons 😈

Hannibal and Bedelia and their life as Parents:

Inspiration :Vous, you, toi, @starlight-nerd

Now, imagine Bedelia didn't have an abortion (reference to God knows what part of the Florence HCs), she would still hide the pregnancy from Hannibal. She's pregnant, she's anxious, he killed two people before her eyes she couldn't help but worry she might be next. So what if he ate her and her unborn child? No Bedelia would go insane.

She hid the pregnancy for two months. Fainted on the 4th,actually, late 4th almost at the beginning of her 5th month of pregnancy. They had an opera. No dress would zip fully. She wore a shape wear and a corset. Silly of her to think she's survive in the corset when her dress already had an imbedded corset as well. She fainted. I mean, to be fair, they had a wedding in plain daylight, everything smelled too floral,the sun was Killing her, and she the glass of champagne she had in hand to make it seem like she's drinking was drowning her poor nostrils. Oh, and she was on an empty stomach.

When he found out he gave her the silent treatment. Even when she cried and explained why she did what she did, he still gave her silence. He needed time to.process things. But don't confuse silence with neglect. Oh no. He was overprotective. He watched over her. Made her more Gelato because she has been eating those. the most during her first four months That disgusting craving of Vanilla ice cream with olive oil and sea salt. (His heart broke every time he combined those three ingredients in a bowl. Also, I think I started the Bedelia and Gelato cult on accident? Slay). Oh and baths. He wouldn't dare touch her stomach though.

She nagged his ear off when he was giving her silence. It lasted five days. She confronted him on the fifth with pure rage (also because he had messed up her favorite soup and she was utterly heartbroken by the change of flavors). He apologized and took her to bed that night. Spending a few hours in-between her legs and tending to her plum breasts. Because..well ..she grew more sensitive. Think smart not hard guys. (He thought both ways. He was hard all the time hearing her moan like that)

When it came to gender reveal, I know we all collectively agree she'd be a girl. She'd name her after a Targaryen. (Wasn't her idea it was Hannibal as her hair was such a bright colour of golden it looked white in the sun. Daenerys. Her name's Daenerys.)

The first thing they agreed to have in the nursery was a Library

The decoration in there is very.. Angelical.

Her labor was.. difficult. Very difficult. She was in Labor for three days. She refused to tell him she was in Labor. She was terrified. The last month she's been having nightmares about him hurting her and she refused to tell him, she refused to let him in, refused to let him take her to a hospital. She gave birth all on her own. At first, her baby didn't cry, but then, after a few gentle spanks she woke up. Her cries filling the room and that's when she allowed the midwife Hannibal had brought in to come and help.

First few nights were absolutely exhausting, he'd wake up with her and soothe Bedelia back to sleep once their daughter would fall back into slumber herself.

Hannibal took responsibility for her meals when she reached the age recommended for her to start with solids.

Bedelia produced a lot of breast milk, and pumping was exhausting and always left her sore. So...he may or may not have volunteered to soothe her on certain nights (certain? mhmm.....)

She discovered once a photo book of her journey, her pregnancy . Filled with pictures from every months. She keeps it in their private Library.

Hannibal does all the hair braiding. A Targaryen deserves Targaryen braids. He'd tell Bedelia.

Hannibal has a dramatic Victorian portrait of them when Daenerys was a baby. He plans on having a few more done when she's 5, when she's 12 and when she's 17-18. His princess deserves princess treatment.

He got her baptized in an Orthodox Church. To him it was symbolic. Bedelia couldn't care less.

Bedelia is a great mother to her child. She understood her so well. Yet she was slightly overprotective over. A tad bit too much. Afraid that her daughter might get taken advantage of, which is why she tossed away every other hobby and told Hannibal she wants her to take self defense. So they started with Boxing, then Muay Thai and Jiu Jiutsu.

Every once in a while (At the end of every month quite literally), Hannibal would get both Bedelia and Daenerys flowers. Peonies for Bedelia and Hibiscus for Daenerys.

Bedelia taught her how to garden. And how to shoot a gun.

Hannibal taught her how to cook. Unfortunately for him, she loves seafood more just like her mother.

They brought her teachers to teach her more languages. Hannibal spoke to her in Lithuanian sometimes and Bedelia in French. (Though he's learning High Valyrian for the sake of her name)

And that's possibly it? Idk, I'm not used to fluff 😭. Hope you liked it!!!!

[themannfamily]

The mysterious mann and the analysis of the portrait.

(+ an image of young Gray)

Unknown individual?

Every time it comes to discussing this portrait, people tend not to believe that Gray is depicted on it, but I believe the opposite. Let's start with the period of the appearance of this portrait, which was before the comic book Blood Brothers and any mention of him. The authors introduced a new mode and a new character through a mystery, but before the comic, the appearance of the birth certificate and the will of Zepheniah, their original idea clearly underwent changes. (This also explains the fact that the figure of the mysterious man is definitely higher than Gray.) And yet the information from Zepheniah's will gives us the knowledge that Gray blackmailed his father to get his cache of the australium, which suggests that Gray wrote to him before. This led me to a solution by which we could combine the original idea of the portrait, taking into account the changed circumstances. According to my suggestion, Gray followed his family to America and visited his father before his death, a little after sending him a blackmail letter (which is probably burning in the fireplace at this moment). I believe that it was a fateful meeting for this family, which finally destroyed it.

A few assumptions about his appearance.

His hair (the color of which could have been ironically inherited from his father) was roughly cut by him, but carefully styled for the first meeting with his family in his life. His clothes are a simple dusty suit, definitely too big for his build. Gray's position in society is extremely low, given that we have no information about his guardians. We can assume that since his return to civilization, he has been in the lower circles of Victorian society, in poverty, and worked hard, honestly and not, to feed himself.

Only his mind allowed him to survive years among animals and indifferent people.

Analyzing the portrait.

Gray's strained smile, hiding his anger and disappointment, goes against the general mood of the image.

Zepheniah, absolutely exhausted by the disease, has no strength to resist what is happening. Next to him is his maid Elizabeth, who supports his mood, and his friend Barnabus, either trying to smooth over the situation as always, or not taking it seriously.

We only see the consequences of the quarrel, and no matter what Zepheniah said to drive his son away, he could not get rid of Gray's presence in their last family portrait. For this audacity and for this smile, he was probably torn out of the photo by his father himself.

Redmond and Blutarch, as always oblivious to anyone but each other, are indifferent to the family tragedy. They will not remember their brother in years to come. (This is not surprising, because of their senility, they forgot who he was when he just introduced himself to them.)

On the right, as if separated from everyone else, there is the only grieving family member — Silas, who hardly fully believes in the reality that Gray was abducted by an eagle, but probably did not expect that that his brother was going to strangle his son. Now he sees that the younger one is alive, and despite this, Zepheniah deprived his child of the opportunity to return for years. He is crushed by the truth and the shame that has befallen their family. His condition is not improved by the thought of the approaching death of his younger brother. Upset and shocked, he is detached from what is happening.

Soon after this meeting, Gray will leave the family forever, having never been accepted by her, Zepheniah will die painfully from diseases, and the enmity of Redmond and Blutarch will reach its peak when they start a war that neither Elizabeth nor Barnabus will interrupt, and their descendants will support.

[the-rarest-sexiest-coinkydink]

*breathing heavily*

Vampire Mikey. Male reader. please-

*collapses*

I ran all the way here

Boy, You Look Like Death (But Healthy Guys are Such an Eyesore) - (Mikey Way x male!reader) 

Summary: Mikey’s really been struggling to find the right time to come out to his boyfriend. Not as gay, obviously - it would be a bit concerning if he didn’t know that by now - but as a vampire. Unfortunately for him, he’s the least subtle person in the world, and his boyfriend has more than two brain cells to rub together... 

Word count: 2790 

Warnings: very brief mention of drugs and alcohol (no use by either Mikey or the reader) 

AN: take a moment to catch your breath, dear requester! Recover from that run of yours and enjoy the sweet little tale under the cut 

Also, this title is taken from a song called Eyesore by a band called Salem, they’re a kick ass band and you should definitely go and listen to them because all of their songs are just a wee bit slutty and very vampire-y (the frontman also leads Creeper, one of my favourite ever bands and the loves of my life, and they also slap and you should absolutely listen to them too) 

Anyway that’s enough trying to brainwash you into loving my favourite bands too, on with the story! 

(y/n) knew for a fact that Mikey had no idea that he knew that he was a vampire. The poor, gorgeous boy had been trying incredibly hard not to give the game away, but by the fifth date it had been pretty obvious. And they’d been a couple for three whole months now. So he’d known for a while. 

It had been lots of little things together that made him add all the pieces up and come to the right conclusion - it was the only one that made sense. They’d been to an Italian place for the third date, and Mikey had needed to take some tablets before eating. He claimed he had a slight intolerance to garlic, which (y/n) had believed at the time. There were stranger things to be allergic to, after all, and lots of people were allergic to stuff that others might find surprising. Another thing was, Mikey had only ever taken him on dates after nightfall. This had been explained away by the fact that, as he was in a band, a lot of his life happened at night! Before the dark came he would stay in whichever venue they were performing in, declining offers to go out for food with the excuse that he wasn’t hungry. He often woke up late in the day anyway, given that the parties he’d go to after the shows were over would last until the early hours of the morning. It wasn’t that much of a surprise that he was a little nocturnal. 

But other things in combination had started to make him wonder. Mikey got sunburnt very easily. He hated having his photo taken, blaming it on his insecurities, and photos of him never seemed to come out clearly. There was always some kind of blur, or fuzziness, or strange shadow falling across his face that obscured his features. He was the same around mirrors, always turning his head away whenever he walked past. The first few times, (y/n) had believed the insecurity theory; there’d been times in his life when the thought of looking at his own face for any extended period of time had made him uncomfortable too. 

Then one day, he’d stumbled across an online forum aimed at freshly minted vampires - yes, he’d been surprised to see that they actually existed, too - and everything had started to make sense. For one, Mikey was incredibly pale, and had a bone structure that could almost be called skeletal. He always looked a little bit sickly, like a Victorian child recovering from some deathly illness. It suited him, really - some people just suited being whiter than a sheet of paper - but it definitely made more sense when the vampire idea was applied. Gerard was nowhere near as pale unless he was wearing his stage makeup, and their parents were fairly ordinary in terms of skin tone, so it was one of the most logical explanations. And whenever he stayed over at his flat, he had a mysterious habit of disappearing in the middle of the night for relatively long periods of time. His reasoning for this, when (y/n) had sleepily begged him not to leave again one morning, was that he often had nightmares and didn’t want to wake his lover up. So he would go and hide in the bathroom to calm down before coming back. Again, if it had been that excuse on it’s own, (y/n) probably would’ve believed it in a heartbeat - but along with everything else, it just made his suspicions even greater. 

Now all he had to do was wait for him to come clean about it. 

(y/n) really didn’t want to start that conversation - there was still a miniscule chance that he was wrong, and he really didn’t want to imagine the argument that incorrectly accusing his boyfriend of being a vampire would cause. And unlike his past relationships, this one was going incredibly well! He really didn’t want to risk ruining this over something like that. So his plan was just to wait - either until Mikey slipped up and did something that would make it obvious, or until he flat out admitted it. 

The conversation finally happened one night after a post-show party. They’d been at someone’s house who’s name they’d forgotten before the two of them had even got in the door - it belonged to a friend of a friend of one of the crew, from memory, but there had been so many different people there that names had slipped away like smoke in the breeze. In any case, the two of them had spent most of the time loitering in corners with the rest of the band or tucked away with their tongues down each other’s throats, so it wasn’t like anyone else really mattered. Everyone was sweaty after being packed into a tiny venue all night, and the vast majority of the room was drunk out of their minds. (y/n) was pretty sure that he’d seen some questionable substances being passed around in the corridors - and he knew for certain that Frank had gone outside to join the group smoking weed - but neither he nor Mikey were too interested in that. In fact, the pair of them were pretty much sober, just riding out the adrenaline high that had come from the evening’s gig. 

They’d been together for almost the whole evening, only separating so that Mikey could go to the bathroom. He’d been gone almost fifteen minutes by the time he came back, but that didn’t worry (y/n) at all. He simply assumed that there was a queue, or that his lover had felt unwell and used it as an excuse to get a breather away from everyone for a few moments. When he’d returned, there was something visibly different. His eyes shone a little brighter, there was a new confidence in his step. Something had changed. And he had an idea of what. 

The two of them had left not long after that, craving a cosy evening in with each other, and on the walk home (y/n) spotted the perfect in to that mammoth topic he’d been dancing around for the last few months. There was a little dark smudge at the corner of Mikey’s mouth. And whenever they passed underneath a street lamp, that tiny mark flashed a deep red. The colour of blood. 

Mikey had fed at the party. 

Deciding to wait until they got back to his flat, (y/n)’s heart raced beneath his ribs for the rest of the short walk. His idea was pretty much completely confirmed now, but he still wasn’t exactly sure how to approach things. Saying things the wrong way could still cause a fight even if he was correct in his deductions, and that was the last thing he wanted. 

He switched the light on in the living room, and an idea flashed into his mind like the spark of electricity illuminating the filaments in the bulb. 

“Oh, Mikey! I think you’ve chewed through your lip, baby. There’s some blood on your chin.” 

It didn’t seem physically possible for Mikey to get any paler than he possibly was already, but in this light it really looked like the rest of the blood had drained out of his face. “W-what?” 

“Yeah, there’s not much but it’s still there. Let me clean that up.” As he raised a hand, wanting to brush the dark liquid away with a stroke of his thumb, Mikey flinched back a little. 

“No, don’t, I- it’s not mine...” He trailed off, looking incredibly uncomfortable, wringing his hands anxiously. 

(y/n) stepped back a little, wanting to give him the space to say it. “I don’t understand.” 

“I... oh God, I’m so sorry. I, I should have told you sooner, should’ve been honest with you right from the start so you could get out easily, I-” He stopped, running a hand over his face. “I’ve been lying to you. Well, not exactly lying, I just haven’t been honest. And I’m so, so sorry for that.” 

Seeing just how panicked Mikey was - the poor boy was almost on the verge of tears - he stepped closer again, offering a comforting hand. “Hey, talk to me. I’m worried about you more than anything else. I just need you to be okay.” 

“I... (y/n), I’m a vampire. And I know I should have told you way sooner than this, I was just so scared-” 

(y/n) cut him off with a swift kiss, taking him completely by surprise. Using this to his advantage he slipped his tongue into his boyfriend’s mouth, a little shocked by just how much he liked the hint of iron on his lover’s tongue. It was a surprisingly arousing addition to Mikey’s usual taste. When he pulled away, Mikey’s eyes were almost as wide as dinner plates, and he offered up a reassuring smile. “Baby, I’ve known for a while now.” 

“I-you... what?” 

“Yeah. It wasn’t hard to figure out when I put all the little pieces together. Kinda like, two plus two is four, you know? Pretty simple.” 

“I...” He was pretty much speechless, trembling as the tension he’d been retaining in his muscles all started to fade away at once. He let (y/n) lead him over to the sofa, guiding him to sit down and tucking an arm around his waist. He still struggled with his words for a moment, before managing to spit out a single word. “How?” 

“Well, it was kinda obvious.” He giggled sheepishly, ticking things off on his fingers. “A garlic allergy and scary paleness - which is incredibly sexy on you, might I add - combined with you being mostly nocturnal, disappearing randomly in the middle of the night, and never being clearly visible in a single photo? All together, it only pointed towards one thing.” 

“And... you still stayed?” 

The way his voice cracked broke (y/n)’s heart, and he kissed him with even more passion than the last, desperate to get his point across. “Mikey, I love you! Of course I stayed.” 

There was a moment of dead quiet - neither of them had been brave enough to say those three little words before. 

“Do you really mean that?” 

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t.” He stroked the other man’s thigh, trying to soothe him as much as possible. “Look, I wouldn’t have stayed if it wasn’t something I was totally okay with! And honestly? I wasn’t a hundred percent sure until I saw the blood today. All those things added up, but I didn’t wanna bring it up to you and then be wrong. I didn’t wanna fight with you... the thought of losing you was just too much to handle.” He sighed, nudging his forehead against Mikey’s shoulder. “You really do mean a lot to me. I didn’t wanna spoil things by bringing it up before you were ready to talk.” 

Mikey looked entirely baffled: he hadn’t prepared for a reaction like this. In his head, he’d dreamt out a variety of scenarios that could arise in this situation. He’d rehearsed how to handle anger at being lied to, tears stemming from feelings of betrayal, fury, name-calling, the love of his life walking straight out the door and never looking back. But he had simply never pictured pure acceptance - or the fact that he might have calculated the truth all by himself. Maybe he should’ve done. His boyfriend was an incredibly intelligent person, so maybe it was an insult to assume that he wouldn’t work it out. Either way, he had no clue whatsoever on how to handle this. 

And so he settled for crying instead. He hadn’t thought he’d cry in a situation like this, at least not in front of (y/n), but he was just so overwhelmed by the genuine love streaming from the other man that he didn’t know what else to do. He was vaguely aware of (y/n) moving to hug him even tighter, murmuring soothing words in his ear as he rubbed his back. He could hear (y/n)’s blood rushing beneath his skin, his heart beating steadily in his chest. He could smell his usual scent, sweet and strong and so uniquely him. And most importantly, he couldn’t smell any fear. Fear had a scent that was unmistakeable, and there wasn’t a hint of it on him. (y/n) genuinely wasn’t scared of him. And that made him sob even more. 

The two of them stayed like that for several minutes more as Mikey hiccupped his way back to calmness, ever soothed by his boyfriend’s loving words. His tone never wavered, constantly steady and gentle as he held him. (y/n) was overcome with emotion at the thought of how scared Mikey had been, and wanted - no, needed - him to know that he wouldn’t ever be scared of the man he loved. 

When Mikey was finally breathing normally again, (y/n) gently tipped his face upwards, needing him to see the honesty in his eyes. 

“Listen to me, baby. I love you more than I could ever really describe. It’s like you’re the Earth and I’m the moon - I’m constantly being pulled towards you, and now you’re in my life I don’t want to think about you not being a part of it. And besides, you want my honest opinion? I think the fact you’re a vampire is stupidly attractive.” 

Mikey actually managed to laugh at that, wiping away the tears and the last of the blood that lingered on his lower lip. “Really? You’re not just saying that to make me feel good about myself, are you?” 

“No way. Trust me, it’s hot. If I wasn’t into it, I would’ve made an excuse to go back to being just friends with you the moment I came to that conclusion. Pinky promise.” 

“I... I don’t think anyone has ever had that reaction before. Normally most people are... freaked out. Scared of me.” 

“Well, I’m not most normal people, am I?” (y/n) grinned, kissing him on the forehead. “Look, if... if you’re not ready to say, you know, the big three words just yet, that’s totally okay with me. I’m not expecting you to say it back, I swear. I just really, really needed you to know how I feel about you. How much you mean to me. Don’t feel bad if you still need some time.” 

For the first time in that whole conversation, (y/n) looked nervous, and Mikey took very little time to think before responding. This time he was the one to initiate the kiss, passionate and forceful and tender, pouring every ounce of love into that one intimate act. He needed him to know that he felt exactly the same way, and for now words didn’t seem strong enough. 

He didn’t pull away until (y/n) tapped him on the thigh, red in the face from lack of air, and he smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. Sometimes I forget that normal people need to breathe.” 

“I don’t mind that much.” He giggled, kissing the tip of his nose. “I find that kinda attractive too.” 

Mikey blushed as much as he was able to, rubbing his forehead against his boyfriend’s like a cat seeking affection. “(y/n), I am so in love with you. And this? I imagined every possible reaction except this one. I didn’t tell you because I was terrified that you’d turn me away, or hate me. So...” 

“Baby boy, I could never hate you. Not in a million years. I have, like, a million questions I’m dying to ask you though.” He grinned, squeezing Mikey’s hands between his. “But I think we should save that for later on. Right now, the only thing I want is to cuddle up in bed with you. Get all cosy in our little blanket nest and just forget about the rest of the world for a little while. Sound good to you?” 

“Sounds great to me.” 

The duo got up and headed towards (y/n)’s bedroom hand in hand, already dozing off as they got through the door. After a little arguing over which way the spooning situation was going to go, Mikey gave in and let (y/n) be the big spoon, every muscle relaxing as he pulled him against his chest. He turned back for a second, just about managing to press a kiss to his incredible boyfriend’s cheek. 

“I love you so much, (y/n). More than I can ever really say.” 

“I know, Mikey. I love you too - for as long as you’ll let me.” 

“Forever, then.” 

“Yeah, forever. I like the sound of that.” 

[cruetrimeblog]

The Unfortunate Story of John List

John List was the only child of German American parents born in Bay City, Michigan. His parents' names were John and Barbara List. John grew up in a Lutheran household which led him to become a Sunday school teacher just like his dad. John worked as a lab tech during World War Two. He served three years before being discharged in 1946. John went on to earn a bachelor's degree in business administration. He then earned a master's degree in accounting.

John was called back into active duty in 1950 due to the advancement of the Korean War. He met a woman named Helen Taylor while stationed in Virginia. They began a romantic relationship and got married in December of 1951 in Baltimore. The two decided to live in California. Due to his work as a successful military accountant, John was reassigned to the Finance Corps.

John completed his second tour in 1952. He went on to work as an accountant in Detroit. He later took a job as an audit supervisor in Kalamazoo, Michigan. This is where he and Helen raised three kids together. John became a general supervisor by 1959.

Unfortunately, Helen suffered from alcoholism. She became increasingly unstable over the years. Her daughter (before she met John) Brenda, moved out of the family home in 1960. The rest of the List family moved to Rochester, New York where John was offered a job with Xerox. After becoming the director of accounting services, John accepted a job as Vice President and comptroller of a bank in New Jersey. This is where the family moved into a large estate in Westfield, New Jersey named "Breeze Knoll." The home was a 19 room victorian mansion.

John decided to kill his entire immediate family on November 9, 1971. When the kids left for school that day, he shot Helen in the head. She was 46 years old at the time. He then went upstairs where he shot and killed his mother Alma who was 84 years old at the time. Then John decided to sit and wait for his kids to come home from school. Patricia and Frederick List were the first to arrive. The were 16 and 13 years old. John shot and killed them both. Afterwards, John proceeded to make himself lunch, run to the bank to drain his mother's accounts, then went to the local high school to watch his eldest son John Jr. play soccer. When John Jr. was finished playing, John drove them both home. John attempted to shoot his son shortly after they entered the home, but the gun misfired. This gave John Jr. a chance to fight back against his father. But it was to no avail. John shot him several more times. John Jr. was the only victim to be shot more than once.

After the murders, John placed the bodies of his family into sleeping bags and lined them up in the ballroom of the family home. However he had to leave his mother’s body upstairs, claiming she was too heavy to drag downstairs. John then sat down to write a five page letter to his pastor stating that he killed his family to “save their souls.” He proceeded to try cleaning up the scene, but he also eerily cut his face out of all of the family photos in the home. He turned the radio all the way up, turned on every light in the house, and left without a trace to start a new life.

The bodies of the List family weren’t discovered until around a month after the murders. The neighbors weren’t suspicious at first, because the Lists tended to keep to themselves. John wrote letters to his kids schools and jobs to explain that he was taking the family out of town on a trip. He canceled the milk, mail, and newspaper deliveries. Neighbors finally alerted authorities when the lights in the home started burning out.

Investigators started by examine the outside of the house and determined that nothing seemed amiss. Police returned on December 7th after getting a call from Patricia’s drama coach when she couldn’t get an answer at the door while trying to pick Patricia up for her lesson. Police entered the home through a small window in the basement, and found the bodies.

This crime was the most notorious felony in New Jersey since the kidnapping of the Lindbergh baby. There was a nationwide manhunt issued for John. The family car was later found at JFK airport, but there was no evidence that John ever got on a plane.

Breeze Knoll was eventually burned down nine months after the murders. The fire was ruled as an arson but is still unsolved. A new house was built on the land in 1974

John took a train from New Jersey to Michigan, and then to Denver where he settled in 1972. He got a job as an accountant and started using the alias Robert Peter Clark. He joined his local Lutheran church. It was while attending this church that he met his next wife Delores Miller. They got married in 1985. The couple moved to Virginia in 1988, and John got a new job there as an accountant.

An episode of America's Most Wanted covered the List murders in 1989. A forensic artist assembled a bust of an age progressed John. This bust was eerily similar to John's current appearance. Less than two weeks after the show aired, John was arrested. John denied his true identity for months. He was extradited to New Jersey in 1989. John didn't admit to being who he was until February of 1990.

During the trial, John admitted that the family was struggling financially after he was laid off from work in 1971. However, he kept his unemployment a secret from his family. He would leave for work at the normal time, but just spend the day reading the newspaper at a local train station. He made ends meet by stealing money from his mother's bank account. Some of the List children had taken on part time jobs to help out the family.

During the trial, John was diagnosed with OCD. John was too proud to accept welfare, so he saw his only financial option to be killing his family, sending them to heaven, and starting a brand new life.

John was convicted of five counts of first degree murder on April 12, 1990. He was quoted saying, "I feel that because of my mental state at the time, I was unaccountable for what happened. I ask all affected by this for their forgiveness, understanding, and prayer." The judge responded, "John Emil List is without remorse and without honor. After 18 years, 5 months, and 22 days, it is now time for the voices of Helen, Alma, Patricia, Frederick, and John F. List to rise from the grave." John was sentenced to five consecutive life sentences. This was the maximum penalty at the time. John quickly filed for an appeal, but was equally as quickly denied.

John admitted during an interview with Connie Chung in 2002 to not considering suicide as another viable option because it would bar him from entering heaven where he hopes to reunite with his family someday.

John died at the age of 82 in 2008 from a bad case of pneumonia. He was being held in New Jersey at the St. Francis Medical Center. He has since been referred to as "The Boogeyman of Westfield."

[grandmaster-anne]

A royally good start

Horse & Hound | Published 20 June 2021

WHEN The Queen’s childhood governess Marion Crawford first met a young Princess Elizabeth, she found “a small figure with a mop of curls sat up in bed”, who had tied the cords of her dressing gown to the knobs of the bed and was busy driving her team.

‘‘Do you usually drive in bed?” Marion remembered asking, in her 1950 book The Little Princesses, to which the princess replied: “I mostly go once or twice round the park before I go to sleep. It exercises my horses.”

The 30-odd toy horses that she had, each standing a foot high on wheels, had a strict stable routine; their grooming basket stood at the end of a long line of them, first at No. 145 Piccadilly, and later in the corridors of Buckingham Palace. Each night they had their saddles removed, and were attentively fed and watered. And after her and Princess Margaret’s annual trip to Olympia Horse Show with their parents, the toy horses would be put through several weeks of intensive training. On other occasions Princess Elizabeth would harness her nanny with a pair of red reins to set off on a fictional delivery round.

“I would be patted, given my nosebag, and jerked to a standstill, while Lilibet delivered imaginary groceries, and held long and intimate conversations with her make-believe customers,” wrote Marion. “Sometimes she would whisper to me, ‘Crawfie, you must pretend to be impatient. Paw the ground a bit.’ So, I would paw.”

And at Royal Lodge, in Windsor Great Park, where weekends were spent, two lifesized rocking horses were put outside the then Duke of York’s study, so he could hear his daughters riding while he worked.

WHEN Princess Elizabeth’s grandfather King George V gave her the diminutive Shetland Peggy when she was four years old, it was her first real taste of life in the saddle - and a place for her to channel the attentiveness she’d shown her toys. A photo from the 2014 exhibition Royal Childhood at the Summer Opening of Buckingham Palace shows her proudly leading her younger sister aboard Peggy, with the bowler-hat clad groom Mr Henry Owen, who taught her to ride, in attendance.

“[Princess Elizabeth] liked me to come and watch her [riding lessons with Mr Owen],” wrote Marion. “Her first canter was a great day. I used to walk with the dogs, and it was pretty to hear her bell-like voice through the trees talking to Owen about burs, galls and girths.”

For all the stereotyping of Shetlands being comically naughty, they have continued to be the royal family’s choice of breed for a child’s debut in the saddle. It was Queen Victoria’s fondness for the breed that helped raise their profile in the 19th century, according to Anne, Countess De La Warr, president of the Shetland Pony Stud Book Society.

“It made them popular with other Victorian mothers,” she says. “They’re particularly good as a first pony, but also as what I call a family pony; if you have a trap or a cart, you can all go on family picnics with them. I have one friend whose pony is said to know his way to the pub.”

Flora and Alma, two Shetlands who were presented to Queen Victoria by King Victor Emmanuel of Italy, proved particularly popular with her grandchildren, and it’s a trend that Anne continues to see today.

“Grandmothers can have them in the field and when a child comes to visit, you can hoik them out and put a saddle on. They’re amazingly easy,” she says.

If it weren’t for the grand surroundings, BBC footage from 1992 of The Queen with Princesses Beatrice and Eugenie riding Smokey at Balmoral could be any idyllic scene of a grandmother with her grandchildren.

As Anne explains, the best Shetlands tend to come via word of mouth and the royal family is no exception in following that ethos on the hunt for the perfect pony. Prince William learnt to ride on the pint-sized Smokey aged four; Llanerch Topaz, another that the future king was pictured on as a child taught the Princess Royal’s children to ride and it was reported that Zara Tindall provided a Shetland for Prince George to kick-start his riding.

WHILE these early rides are the grand sum of some royal family members’ foray into equestrianism, for others it is just the start. Aged two, Princess Anne was bundled aboard Fum, and although her memories of the Shetland are vague, the experience paved the way for a series of more memorable ponies that would lay the foundations for her Olympic eventing career.

Holidays as a child were spent at Sandringham, Windsor and Balmoral. Each offered a different terrain for Princess Anne to tackle on horseback, usually accompanied by her mother and older brother, and assisted by the groom, Frank Hatcher, who helped the children catch the ponies and brush them, and reminded them to pick out their feet.

“The miles of stubble fields around Sandringham were pure luxury by today’s standards of relatively restricted hacking,” she remembered in her 1991 equestrian autobiography Riding Through My Life, reminiscing about the “rides” which had been cleared for Queen Alexandra to be able to ride through the woods and all over the estate without getting her hat knocked off.

“The best ‘fun’ riding was at Balmoral: riverside paths, woodland paths, hill paths and the golf course. It was all right if you rode on the rough, but you were definitely not popular if you got ‘carted’ away with across the fairways.” As for a young Princess Elizabeth, who won a driving class at the 1944 Royal Windsor Horse Show with her Norwegian pony Hans, Princess Anne’s initially modest competitive career started from Windsor, where most of her riding happened at weekends (although not on Sundays, which was the grooms’ day off).

She was a member of the Garth Hunt branch of the Pony Club - although she can count the number of rallies she went to on one hand.

“They were memorable for persuading me that gymkhana games were not my forte. The pony I had at the time was a 13.2hh called Bandit, who was charming and reliable in every way except that he refused to repeat himself. By that I mean that he would take part in one bending race, but tried very hard not to take part in the next,” Princess Anne wrote in her autobiography.

It was this same pony that knocked a young Prince Charles’s confidence when it came to jumping. On clearing one round the grey was known to “indulge in his well-known imitation of a horse rampant if asked to face up to round two,” remembered Princess Anne. Discovering hunting helped renew the Prince’s interest in jumping, and being introduced to polo by his father at the age of 13 was a world away from the tedious early lessons inflicted on him and his sister with Miss Sybil Smith at Holyport.

Princess Anne remembered: “Being put on a small, fat, white cob, on the end of a leading rein, one each side of a large, fat, white cob, ridden by Miss Smith, and being led, very sedately, around a cinder circle was not our idea of riding!”

Even with the abundant privilege, being royal couldn’t negate the calamities that accompany getting to grips with ponies. On holiday at Glamis Castle, the childhood home of the Queen Mother, a favourite expedition for Princesses Elizabeth and Margaret was to take the pony down to Glamis Station to watch the Aberdeen Fish Express go through.

“The pony was temperamental about trains, and the station master very kindly let us shut him up in the waiting room,” remembered governess Marion Crawford. “Unfortunately, one day when, as usual, we did this, the stationmaster had forgotten to warn us that he had put all his best chrysanthemums ready for the flower show in there. The pony ate the lot.”

A tumble came for Princess Anne when riding her bay 14.2hh Watersmeet High Jinks in from the field while leading another, and making an unplanned dismount on some hard cobbles. “Not for the first time he looked genuinely surprised at the antics of his erstwhile rider,” she wrote.

An earlier mount, Kirby Cane Greensleeves, left a lasting imprint on the Princess after the Welsh pony trod on her toe. “In that endearing way that ponies have, the more I shouted, the more I pushed and the more desperate I became, the harder she leaned,” she wrote.

And while the royal ponies might have nestled alongside horses reserved for pulling golden state carriages when they were stabled at Windsor Castle, it was often a refreshingly low-key existence. At Windsor, the ponies lived a distance from the Mews, so the children would take the tack down in the car, tack them up in the field and take them out from there.

“These were pretty rough, scruffy little objects,” remembered Princess Anne.

What was drummed into the children however by The Queen was that whatever went wrong, it was never the ponies’ fault. Along with Zara’s Pony Club grounding, this was a mantra that Princess Anne instilled in her own children, and one that seems likely to exist for the next generation.

“There is no doubt that the level of involvement required in equestrian sport teaches young people a great deal about life, especially that ‘life’ is not fair,” wrote Princess Anne. “Horses are no respecters of reputation or ego and certainly not of wealth, making them a challenge to everybody, whether looking after or riding them.”

Pictures by AFP via Getty Images, Tim Graham Photo Library via Getty Images

[intercoursefluids]

WDIB Chapter 14

Damian walked down the halls of the hotel towards the elevator with Adrien trailing after him hesitantly.

“Uh, should you have said that to your dad?” He asked nervously, rushing to walk side by side with him.

Damian looked at him curiously, pressing the button to call for the elevator.

“It was the truth, why shouldn’t I have said it?”

“Aren’t you going to be in trouble when we get back?” Adrien asked, casting a nervous glance towards the room’s door.

Damian paused, his eyes catching sight on the bruises circling Adrien’s neck.

“No, I won’t be in trouble. And even if I were to get in trouble, he wouldn’t do anything bad.” Damian reassured him as the doors to the elevator opened.

Adrien followed him into the elevator, pressing his lips together.

“Are you absolutely sure?” He asked again once the doors closed.

“Yes, I am. Besides, even if there was a chance he was going to try to hurt me in any way. Clark would stop him. And if this scenario were to play out at home, where Clark wasn’t there, someone else in our family would stop him.” Damian explained, watching the numbers on the elevator go down.

“But that would never happen. I have said and done much worse and he’s never raised a hand to me like that. He has also taught all of us self-defense, we trained until we could beat him in a fight, and then we kept training because it was fun and useful.” Damian finished, glancing at Adrien from the corner of his eye.

Adrien swallowed, nodding his head.

“Okay,” he said, deciding to take Damian’s word for it. “You said ‘all of us’ right? Do you have siblings? Other than potentially me, of course.”

Damian pulled out his phone, opening his photos app and clicking on his family album.

He passed the phone to Adrien as the doors opened.

“Yes, there are a few of us. Though I, and potentially you, would be the only biological children. Everyone else is adopted.” Damian said, watching him flick through the photos.

Adrien walked alongside Damian as he flicked through the photos, it wasn’t until he reached the family photo, with everyone in one picture that he spoke.

“A ‘few’ of you huh?” He said with a laugh, a look of shock painted across his face.

Damian smirked, rounding the corner and spotting the store across the street.

“Just a few.” He said, heading for the crosswalk.

Adrien followed after him with a laugh, rushing across the street and holding the door open for Damian.

Damian walked through and immediately started searching for what he was after.

“Can you tell me everyone’s names?” Adrien asked hesitantly, staring at the photo with mixed emotions.

Damian glanced at him, for the first time wondering if he was actually right in his hunch.

If he was wrong, that look of absolute longing on Adrien’s face would hurt that much worse.

Damian paused, considering his thoughts.

It didn’t actually matter if Adrien was his biological brother or not. He could just be adopted.

Damian shrugged, continuing with his search now that he had a Plan B.

“The oldest is Dick, the second tallest, horribly dressed one.” He started, pulling a stifled snort from Adrien. “Then it’s Jason, the actual tallest with the white streak in his hair.”

“Tim is next, the one who looks like a sickly Victorian child. Steph, the blonde one, was his ex-girlfriend but now she’s dating Cass, the one with short black hair.”

“Duke is the one T-posing with Steph. Alfred is the older man in the suit. He’s technically the family butler but he’s more like everyone’s grandfather. Barbra is the one with the red hair and in a wheelchair, she’s technically not related or dating anyone in the family, at least she wasn’t last time I checked, but we’ve all known her so long she’s pretty much family.”

Damian grinned, finally finding the test he needed.

He grabbed two, just in case, before turning to face Adrien.

“I think that’s everyone but the animals and extended family and family friends.” Damian said, guiding them over to the counter.

Damian paid quickly, wanting to hurry up and get the test finished and over with as soon as possible.

“Okay, so…” Adrien started, turning the phone towards Damian as they started their trip back.

“This is Dick,” he said, looking up for confirmation before continuing. “This is Jason, Tim, Steph, Cass, Duke, Barbara, and Alfred, right?”

Damian nodded along as Adrien accurately pointed out each of his family members.

“You got everyone right.” Damian told him.

“Awesome,” Adrien said happily. “Is there anything I should know about everyone?”

Damian hummed, thinking it over.

“Dick is an acrobat. Teaching everyone tricks is one of his love languages but he can also be very touch orientated. Just tell him no if you get uncomfortable, he’s very serious about respecting peoples boundaries.”

“Jason is protective. He’s seen a lot of bad in the world and had no one to save him from it, he tries to make sure no one else has to go through what he did. He’s also a massive literature nerd and a diehard romantic.”

“Tim can be annoying. He’s very nosy with an insatiable curiosity and can be pushy, but he’s been trying to be better about respecting boundaries. He’s into photography and he likes to skateboard.”

“Steph loves anything purple, she’s very playful and that sometimes leads to people underestimating her and not taking her seriously. She’s very clever and likes nothing more than to put assholes in their place, me included. One of her favorite hobbies is tormenting out father.”

“Cass has almost the opposite problem. A lot of people underestimate her because of her size, and she’s a selective mute. She’s a very kind person who is also rather playful, but because of how little she speaks and various other things you won’t understand until you meet her, a lot of people take her too seriously. They don’t expect her to goof off or get the joke so they don’t try to have fun with her and often cut her out of conversations.”

“Duke likes to pretend that he’s the normal one in the family. Truth is he’s just as chaotic as the rest of us, he just hides it, and himself, from the public a bit better. He loves puzzles and riddles, he also loves creative writing, mostly poetry but don’t tell him I told you. He doesn’t think anyone knows.”

“Barbara and Dick have been in an on and off relationship for as long as I’ve known them. Never try to hide anything from her because she will find out and will retaliate in ways you can’t prove. She’s incredible with computers so if you need any help, ask her. If she can’t help, Tim might be able to.”

“Alfred is the man who raised my father, and subsequently, he raised all of us as well. Never try to hide anything from him because he already knows and if you lie it will just make you look stupid. Honestly, he probably already knows about you.” Damian said, giving Adrien a glance as they walked into the hotel lobby.

“What do you mean by that? There’s no way he could know about me-”

“Just trust me. Alfred knows everything, we don’t know how or why, he just does.” Damian told him.

“You make him sound like some kind of all knowing cryptid.” Adrien laughed, passing Damian back his phone.

“I’m not entirely sure he’s human if I’m being honest with you.” Damian said with a shrug, calling for the elevator.

Though their walk there had been rather carefree, Damian could feel Adrien tense the closer they got to the hotel room.

Damian made sure to enter the room first, taking care that Adrien didn’t feel trapped in the room by blocking him from the door.

“We’re back!” He called out, setting the tests on the table.

“Oh, good. Did you get the tests?” Clark asked, coming over to stand next to Damian.

“Yes, I got two. Just in case.” Damian said, shooting a look to his father.

Bruce sighed heavily.

“We won’t need two.”

“Really? When we first got here, we didn’t think we’d need one. Better to be prepared, don’t you think?” Damian said snidely, raising an eyebrow at his father.

Bruce groaned, walking over and opening one of the boxes.

“I walked into that one.” He grumbled, tearing open the package and swabbing his cheek.

Damian smirked, taking the other tube and passing it to Adrien.

“Swab the insides of your cheek and put it back in the tube.” Damian instructed.

Adrien nodded, doing as instructed and handing the sealed tube back to Damian.

Damian took both tubes, putting them in the provided packaging.

“Can you take care of this, Clark?” Damian asked, sure that he would get the hint.

Clark nodded, giving Damian a smile.

“No problem!” He said, taking the package and walking out the door.

Damian just hoped none of the Parisians in the room noticed him walk towards the roof and not the elevators.

Come Find Me In The Maribat Discord!<3

Tag List:

@Toodaloo-kangaroo

@Ev-cupcake

@animegirlweeb

@Vroomtaka

@rosesandsailboats

@depressed-bitchy-demon

[strike-another-match]

please if someone here knows more about this than me do correct me but i've been trying to figure this out and so far i think there's three main "layers" with different datasets used to create a stable diffusion picture (through comfyUI, a1111, web portals, etc.) which i will explain to the best of my ability now

(the goal of this post is to shed some light into the whole process to better understand the conversations around this topic, and also to try to figure out what is the best option for someone looking to protect their art from being used against their will in these models and for someone looking to make ethical AI images with their own pictures)

on the most superficial layer we have LoRAs which are made with only a few pictures and are applied on top of a base checkpoint model, usually made to replicate one particular artist's style or to capture a character's likeness to be able to re-pose them through prompts or other means. to make these i've seen people use anywhere from 5 to 1000 images which can be sourced from your own work, someone else's work, public domain, etc. when people say that they "trained an IA with their own art", i think they normally meant that they made a LoRA model with their own art that still needs a base checkpoint model to work, and i'm not sure about this but i think you can combine as many of these as you want (kind of like sprinkles on a cake perhaps??). the files are relatively small (a few Mbs in most cases) and you can train one fairly quickly through existing programs that are freely available

the base checkpoint model i'm talking about is the middle layer and from what i've seen i think it's trained similarly to a LoRA but it's meant to emcompass a broader subject (for example, "anime style" rather than "utena style"). i'm confused on how many pictures minimum you need to train one of these but people still do it in their fairly standard laptops or through rental of cloud space and it can still be done only with pictures you own the rights to and/or are in the public domain. many of these models have nothing to do with visual arts in the first place (for example, you can take many pics of trees and flowers around your neighbourhood, curate a proper dataset and use it to train a model that you can use to generate mix-and-matches of those... etc.). on top of these base models you can create and apply LoRAs and other similar smaller/"tweaking" models. these tend to weigh 2-8GBs but i wouldn't be surprised if there's some much larger ones that i haven't encountered

i used to think that if you did this step without using stolen images you could have a "clean" model without anything shady going on (personally i wanted to make one for victorian flower fairy illustrations for personal use because i thought it would be fun...) but then i learned that these models are still trained on a base stable difussion model (SD1.5 or SD2.0 etc) which is where it gets impossible to "make your own" as a layman since these large base models are trained on immense, and i mean immense data sets containing (in SD's case) millions upon millions of images of all kinds, from naruto screencaps to pictures of puppies to photographs of models in ads in magazines to people's instagram selfies and facebook family photos, etc. these data sets are so large that if i understood correctly they're impossible to curate manually or for anyone to know exactly what has gone into them. also, these costs hundreds of thousands of dollars in computing power to train, but they only need to be trained once, after which each use only consumes the same amount of power as any other activity that you may do on your computer with your graphics card such as playing a videogame

i'd recommend reading this article [cw: mentions of child abuse] for better understanding, but this is basically where "tumblr is selling our data" comes into play. checkpoints and LoRAs created to imitate one specific style are normally created from hand-picked datasets by one person or a small group of people and that can still be done even with the best data protection measures as long as another user can right click and save an image from a post. meanwhile, base models like stable diffusion or midjourney are trained on billions of pictures of all kinds so for example even if they scrapped my entire portfolio it would be a drop in the ocean in the final result since the whole of facebook is also in there

re: disruptive protection technologies such as glaze or nightshade, personally i don't think it's worth it to use them to protect your art from automated scrapping / massive data selling because those images are going to be such a tiny small part of the final dataset that it feels like putting in hours of extra effort + losing a lot of social media presence by deleting your old posts with the original images for no tangible benefits to you, but if what i said above about LoRAs and checkpoints is correct then it would be useful to prevent regular humans from manually creating specific tweaker models that replicate your specific style or characters. however from what i've read i think this can be somewhat bypassed by just taking a full-res screenshot of the image instead of right click and saving it (i say somewhat because a glazed picture is inherently disrupted and thus "uglier" than the original picture... but i think just blurring the image slightly before posting it or just posting a lower res version would give you the same level of protection ??? without needing to go through all the trouble of using glaze and nightshade which is pretty time-consuming)

again my only goal here is in understanding how all of this works so i really appreciate any corrections that can help me better understand. i want to test my theories on glaze/nightshade by taking some disney images and creating 4 different style LoRAs with them (one with the original images, one with glaze + nightshade, one with low res versions of the images, and one with blurred high res versions of the images) to see if there is any noticeable difference in the results !

[coinandcandle]

Jack of all Trades, Master of...All? - A Guide to Lugh

Lugh, Lugus, Lug, of the Long Arm, Master of Skills, he goes by many names. Have you heard about this God?

Read to find out more!

This is an educational post about Lugh, it will start with history and mythology and at the end I will put modern day correspondences and such. Links provided for more reading!

(Photo Cred: Unkown)

Who is Lugh?

Lugh is an Irish deity who is known to be associated with lightning, craftmanship, as well as many more skills (all of them, actually). He really is a master of all trades.

Lugh is not a Sun God but many people use the sun as a symbol for him or associate him with the sun. This is in part because of his name being translated to "light", though that isn't the only possible translation of his name.

However, the idea that he is a sun god comes from an outdated Victorian-era ideology. The anthropologists of the time were convinced that at the root of all pantheons and mythology there must be a sun god. They were obsessed with a solar system based pattern in mythology.

For the Irish, though, their gods are less transcendent (like above all else) and more human-like than other mythology. Irish deities are more a part of the world rather than above it all.

The author of this post explains it very well, if you have more questions about this please check out their article!

In short: It is not wrong for you to associate him with the sun, but he is not a Sun God.

Etymology

The name Lugh (or Lug) was a popular name in ancient times. Some say the name derives from a Proto-Indo-European root "lewgh-" which means “to bind by oath.” Possibly indicative of the role he plays in oath making and promises. Some say it could mean "Light" though many scholars believe this to be unlikely.

He had many names and titles, however, his most known title was Lámfada, meaning “Of the Long Arm,” which was a reference to the length of his spear and that it was like it was a part of him (like an arm). It could also be translated as "artful hands" which references his abilities and skills in creation, craftmanship, and the arts.

Family

Lugh comes from two bloodlines: his father, Cian, was the son of Dian Cedh, healer of the Tuatha Dé Danann and his mother, Ethniu, was of the Fomorians.

Though his birth parents are known, many argue the identity of his foster parents; The Irish sea god Manannán mac Lir, Tailtiu, Queen of the Firbolg, and Goibniu, god of the smiths, have all been suggested to be Lugh's foster parents.

Mythology

Rough Start

After being told that his grandson would kill him in the future, The King of Balor locked his daughter, Ethniu, up to keep her from seeing Cian (her lover) again.

However, the two met up anyways and had triplets, one of them was Lugh.

Ethniu's father was furious and planned to have the children killed. Two of them died and the surviving child was Lugh. He fell into the water and was rescued by Biróg who took him to Cian.

Lugh would later be given to a foster parent (one of those mentioned above) who would protect and raise him.

Ladies' Man

Lugh had multiple wives, including Buí, Buach, Nás, daughters of Ruadri (King of Britain), Echtach, Englic, and Rosmerta.

Like Father Like Son

Of his sons, the most famous child he produced was with a mortal named Deichtine. Together they created Cú Chulainn, known as the hero of the Ulster saga.

Lugh at the Gate

Perhaps the most famous tale of this god, it starts with Lugh approaching the gate of the Hall of Tara. He asks to meet with Nuada, god of the Tuatha Dé Danann, and become part of the King's court.

Lugh is stopped by a guard and told that, unless he had a skill that would be useful to the king, he would not be allowed to enter.

Lugh then begins listing skills he has mastered, which includes but are not limited to: a smith, a wright, a craftsman, a swordsman, a harpist, a poet, a historian, a sorcerer, a physician, as well as a champion,

Alas, he is told that the king has people for all of those skills and is about to be turned away.

Finally, Lugh asks if the King has a person who is skilled in all of those things.

The guard goes to the king and asks. Once he comes back he allows Lugh to enter with the King's permission.

High King of Ireland

During a battle against the King of Balor (Lugh's maternal grandfather), Nuada is killed by Balor. Lugh faces off against his grandfather and kills him with a slingshot as revenge for Nuada.

During the war Lugh finds the half-Formorian former king of the Tuatha Dé Danann, Bres, lying on death's door.

He offers to spare Bres' life in exchange for all of the secrets Bres has about the land, including when to plough, sow, and reap crops.

After the war Lugh is pronounced the High King of Ireland and rules for many years.

(Later Lugh would kill off Bres, but he spared his life at the battle and therefore kept his word)

Death (...?)

After finding out that his wife had an affair with Cermait, son of the Dagda, Lugh killed Cermait in anger.

Cermait's three sons were furious and swore vengeance on Lugh. They captured and drowned Lugh.

(Ironic that he came into this world and survived drowning only to die by it later in life...sorry Lugh)

Lugh had ruled for over 40 years as the king.

That being said, Deities are not like humans. Death is not the end for them.

Extras

Julius Caesar commented on Lugh, noticing his importance as a god to the "Celtic people".

Some equate Lugh to the Nordic Odin or the Roman Mercury.

There are many more stories about Lugh but I compiled the most important ones to his character here.

If you'd like to find out more, here are some references you could read:

Mythopedia-Lugh

Wikipedia-Lugh

World History-Lugh

Britiannica-Lugus

The Celtic Journey - Lugh, Master of Skills

Learn Religions- Lugh, the Celtic Craftsman God

Sadly we don't have a lot of context or stories from the ancient Celts so most of these myths and legends are reconstructed using the knowledge and understanding we have of the culture and times.

Correspondences

Weapons

A spear

A slingshot

Fragarach; "The Answerer", a sword from Manannán, his foster father. It had the ability to make anyone that it was pointed at tell the truth

Familiars

Failinis, Lugh's hound

Aenbharr, Lugh's horse

Sguaba Tuinne, the “Wind-sweeper,” a very fast boat

Symbols

Ravens and crows

Lightning

Greyhounds

Horses

Two snakes

The Sun

Holy Days

Lughnasadh, a holiday created for his victory in battle against the the spirits of Tír na nÓg. He would bless harvest fruit and play games in memory of his foster mother, Tailtiu.

Colors

Warm colors like red, orange, gold, yellow

(I also personally associate him with a mossy green color.)

Offerings

Cinnamon

Candy

Alcohol (ale/cider/mead/wine etc)

A plate of whatever you made for dinner

Music

Blueberries or Blackberries

Some say he enjoys milk and honey!

Bread (preferably if you've made it yourself or if it was handmade)

Honestly, in my experience Lugh's favorite type of offering (as well as most Irish gods from what I've read) are acts of devotion or something you've crafted yourself.

This doesn't mean you need to paint a mural for him--though I'm sure he'd enjoy that too!--it means anything involving creation. Devote your creative time to him. I like to devote the act of writing on this blog to him sometimes, for example.

End Notes

In my experience Lugh is a kind, sometimes goofy deity--in the sense that he enjoys making jokes and is fairly laid back. Don't speak ill of him or disrespect him, though, no one wants an angry storm god!

Let me know if you have any personal experience with Lugh or if you have some good references to add to this post!

[brewedlove]

I don’t know but I thought this request would be really adorable:3

It’s a thorfinn x fem black reader in a modernish? Au where they are very much like mortica and Gomez Adams from the Adams family with askeladd,Bjorn, and thorkell being the uncles ragnar and Canute being the uncles/grandpa and of course thorfinns and y/n’s family is included in the bunch as grandparents as aunts/uncles and grandparents. And they are ready to have their 6th child being twins two little boys and thorfinn is trying to hold back tears but can’t help be so grateful for his family and friends he has and y/n of course being the loving wife she is takes pictures and makes sure to put it in the family photo book and tells them she wants to have more kids while they all sweatdrop at how she wants more kids after just having twins:3

Vinland Saga (The Addams Family edition)

Series/Fandom: Vinland Saga

Character (x Reader): Thorfinn

Relationship to Reader: Romantic/Married, Familial with the others

Reader Specifications: None

Word Count: 895

Warnings: None

Requested: Yes

A/N: I actually had no clue on what the Addams family was about until I did some research for this request and watched one episode of the original run. It's so cute and I love it. I really have to thank you for sending this request, otherwise I wouldn't have known how adorable the franchise/series is. This was so much fun to write so I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. I based it off of Thorfinn once he's grown up in the manga and the The Addams Family show in 1964. Their speech is more traditional to try and fit that sort of Victorian feel but I hope that's alright. The Reader's gender, ethnicity, race, etc.. honestly was not specified the entire time I was writing this so I think everyone should be free to read.

~

Carefully holding a weighted camera in one hand, Thorfinn fogged up the lens with his hot breath and cleaned it with a rag.

Eyeing the dark lens, he searched for any signs of scratches and smiled to himself upon discovering none.

Behind him sat Uncle Thorkell and Grandpa Ragnar on the couch, one twin boy in each of their laps.

A string of surprised yelps were pulled from Ragnar as the infant in his lap tugged at his beard, laughing at his reactions.

“Now not too harshly, lad. I would like to keep the hair on my face, thank you,” he tried to explain but was only cut off with another sharp howl of pain at a particularly strong yank.

Across the room laughed Uncle Bjorn and Askeladd while they secured a clean fabric over an empty wall as the backdrop for the photoshoot.

The latter briefly glanced over towards the couch, wearing a playful smile, “It seems like we’ve discovered which one has Thorfinn’s strength.”

“Thorfinn,” Bjorn called, catching the attention of the younger man as he turned to face them, “How does this look?”

Smiling, Thorfinn nodded, “Yes! That looks wonderful! Y/N will surely be pleased.”

Turning his head towards the stairs, he called out to you, “Darling? Are you almost ready?”

“Be right down in a minute,” you replied while you straightened out your son’s button down shirt and spoke in a softer tone, “There. You look amazing. Go down and show your father, hm?”

He beamed up at you, nodding enthusiastically before he disappeared down the steps.

A small hand gently tugged on your hand causing you to turn to face your young daughter, an excited smile adorning her face.

“How do I look?” spinning around, she showed off her outfit to you as you clapped, a grin breaking out on your face.

“You look absolutely perfect, sweetheart,” you complimented, patting her head once she stopped to hug your waist.

Running towards you from down the hall were your last two children with Uncle Canute trailing behind him.

“I hope these clothes are alright. They insisted on wearing them since they’re your favorite, Y/N,” he explained, his eyes focusing down on them as they formed a small group hug around you.

Your hand made their way to their faces, eyeing their appearance and nodding in approval, “Of course. They all look perfect, thank you.”

“Darling?” your husband called out to you once more from downstairs while you ushered your kids to go.

Looking over at Canute, you smiled, “Ready?” In response, he mimicked your expression and nodded before you descended the steps together to meet with the sight of Thorfinn taking a photo of Askeladd and Bjorn.

A flash of light flickered from the camera then Thorfinn stood straight back up, ignoring the groans of the pair in front of him.

“Has the flash always been so bright?” Askeladd grumbled, asking no one in particular while rubbing his eyes as your children gathered around your husband, wanting to look at the pretty camera.

Thorfinn laughed and held it up higher so they couldn’t reach, “Careful now, children. Don’t want to break the camera before we’ve taken the good pictures.”

Together, Bjorn and Askeladd made sounds of protest, offended by the younger man’s comment who only laughed it off.

From his spot on the couch, Thorkell hollered with laughter as you made your way over to take your twin from his lap.

Looking down, you cooed at him causing him to smile and take his mittened hand into his mouth.

Noticing his absence, his brother looked around, tears slowly forming in his eyes.

A panicked call of your name turned your attention towards Ragnar who has his eyes widening at your other son.

Swiftly, you picked him up so both of them were in your arms before walking to Thorfinn and smiling, “Ready, darling?”

Beaming at you, he nodded, “Ready as I’ll ever be. Bjorn, could you help Y/N with the kids?”

The brunette extended his arms out to help take the boys from you and brought them over to the backdrop against the wall.

Your husband carefully handed the camera over to you, chuckling and patting the heads of the rest of the children around him then helped Bjorn with the twins.

Uncle Ragnar and Thorkell stood from the couch, gesturing their nieces and nephews to step away from you as you got into position to take the photos of your newborns once they were in position.

Askeladd came to stand next to you, making funny faces at your infant sons, causing them to giggle, smiling perfectly for the camera.

Moments later, you were satisfied with your work and looked at your boys, dreamily sighing, “I want another one.”

In a split second, all eyes were on you before Thorkell broke out in boisterous laughter.

Askeladd stepped aside, allowing room for the rest of your children to huddle around you, excited responses adding onto the noise made by their loud uncle.

They bickered amongst each other on what they wanted their next sibling to be while Thorfinn ran a hand down his face, looking between your little group and the duo against the backdrop.

“You know what?” he began, making everyone stop to turn their attention towards him while a smile broke out on his face, “Why not?”