#obviously i'm still not over thousand autumns | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shijiujun · 4 years

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Hi! Is it okay to ask you for a small advice? I started reading Thousand Autumns recently (currently on chapters ~85-88) and I'm having a bit of a problem with Yan Wushi's character. I am so turned off by his behavior towards SQ for the whole novel up to this point and I just wonder - is it gonna get better...? I can't stand seeing him openly abusing SQ and treating him like shit, I'm sorry (1)

I know he's evil and it's expected of him to be bad but with future romance prospect I'm really struggling to like the relationship between him and SQ; and if in the first half of the novel I didn't expect big changes, now I keep hoping to see something different from him but I'm not seeing much. He keeps treating SQ horribly. I'm not sure if I can forgive him for what he's done and has no remorse whatsoever - (2)

- abusing SQ and manipulating him, using him as an experiment as if he's a toy to play with; selling him to a r*pist knowing he'll be tortured to death...! And after everything that happend I still barely see anything good in his attitude towards SQ. I can't help but think SQ deserves so much better. I suppose I should try to have some hope for the upcoming chapters to be better? Is it worth it to continue reading or nothing will change? Excuse me for writing so much, Thank you

---

Heya! Oooof okay so you’re totally valid, Yan Wushi isn’t like a character for everyone - so let me break it down with the first part and then the second part where his attitude turns for the better XD

Spoilers under the cut

Before SQ goes to save him:

Yan Wushi does have a goal which is to play mind games with Shen Qiao and (1) throw him into despair (2) try to see if Shen Qiao is a worthy opponent - sure, he’s an asshole with an agenda of his own. YWS doesn’t believe that there is any good in anyone - he thinks Shen Qiao is a hypocrite and that everyone will turn evil given the right circumstances, and so YWS doesn’t trust anyone, or even considers anyone as an equal to him.

He wants to see Shen Qiao become evil basically and does everything he can to direct him towards that but I’d say his actions (with two exceptions) fit his character and the two motives above pretty well and I’m not sure I’d count it as abuse (based on my understanding of abuse, feel free to disagree). I think it’s easy to forget that Shen Qiao is not delusional or naive or ‘innocent’, and he does not paint YWS as some saviour or a friend (at least in the beginning) - he knows who YWS is, knows that he’s insane, not compassionate, totally evil etc. even from the start the moment he realizes that YWS and his disciple lied to him.

1. He lies to Shen Qiao that he’s his shizun, and then sends him to kill someone, but he’s not there to enforce it

2. Throws him out on the streets without his memories, but Shen Qiao is anything but a weak youngling, once again, YWS doesn’t do anything to him

3. YWS turns up at the temple and has Shen Qiao read the scripture - SQ’s not sure what’s going on at first but he more or less figures it out, but also the scripture reading inadvertently helps to heal him (and YWS knows this)

4. YWS flirts with Shen Qiao for a reaction for a while, he’s not genuine of course, but Shen Qiao knows he’s not genuine

5. YWS doesn’t help Shen Qiao out when he’s faced with an opponent while he’s still injured just to see how long Shen Qiao can hold out for - but firstly, Shen Qiao never really expected him to help in the first place, because he has no delusions about the man - and YWS ends up helping anyway, of course not out of the kindness of his heart, but I don’t see why I should hold that against him XD

6. Stands by and watches as Shen Qiao and his shidi Yu Ai have their confrontation - Sure, he’s there to watch the drama, but it’s Shen Qiao who makes the decision to go with him - the lesser of two evils

7. Forces Shen Qiao to fight him while he’s still injured because he wants to see if Shen Qiao’s recovery level has reached a certain point, enough to be an adversary worth dealing with - yes, he’s forcing Shen Qiao to fight when he’s still blind and weak, but throughout the fight you realize that YWS is right - it’s that very battle that basically lets SQ recover his previous abilities by a bit. He’s not hurting SQ for the fun of it (out of sadism or shit) - he purely (or evil-ly) wants to know if SQ is every bit of the skilled warrior he’s heard about

The exceptions are these: (1) When he plants the demonic seed thing in his heart (2) When he trades SQ to Sang Jing Xing for his sword, knowing full well that SJX has a habit of sexually torturing his prisoners - I feel like YWS was almost warming up to SQ when his habit of distrust and everything kicked in and he reverted back to his cynical self - Not an excuse for what he did though, because yes Shen Qiao especially didn’t want the demonic seed thing firstly (and YWS knows this), and then he despaired at being left to SJX. This is the incident that has SQ basically give up on YWS and allows him to erase any notion of him ever becoming friends with YWS. I’m also rather curious how exactly SQ kind of like got over this - but in the settings of the book, I guess it’s explained away with (1) SQ actually fully recovering as a result of this incident (2) SQ has a big heart, and forgives YWS after - but whether or not that’s convincing, that’s up to every reader.

After SQ goes to save him:

1. So after the SJX incident - where he chose to self-destruct and die, taking SJX along with him but ended up surviving and being able to cultivate properly again from the start (previously he couldn’t because he could only recover to a certain extent as there was some blockage etc., but the blast in this incident clears the blockage) - and after he’s sort of recovered like 50-75%, he hears of an ambush on YWS by the leaders of like 5 other sects, and decides to go forward to save him

2. Not because he harbours any like delusions on YWS, but to show him that despite all YWS has done to him (especially with SJX), SQ is still SQ, and he still adheres to his own principles, that YWS did not make him change his mind about being good basically

3. YWS’s views of him starts to change because of this - YWS has never found someone with this much grit to stick to his own principles etc., to still be kind and righteous basically despite being betrayed again and again. Of course this does not excuse the fact that YWS did indeed deliberately leave him to a potentially painful death with SJX - and SQ doesn’t forget either.

4. SQ saves YWS, and then his heart melts because while YWS is recovering from the ambush, he has two other personalities that show up - so YWS when he was much younger, then YWS when he was a teenager, and YWS now. So YWS as a kid and teen are more trusting and open, and SQ likes kid YWS a lot (like as kid brother), and now-YWS wakes up occasionally from the switch in personas, he realizes that SQ likes kid-YWS and starts thinking about why SQ hates him and likes his kid self.

5. Even then, YWS still does try to jump ship once and leave SQ and other evil people behind in a dangerous cave, but thankfully teen/kid-YWS personas fight to turn up in time, and then YWS goes back for SQ

6. SQ knows this - he doesn’t think YWS has had a sudden change of heart or shit, and knows full well that if it was now-YWS, if kid-YWS didn’t turn up, he would probably be left to think about how to leave the cave on his own

7. YWS’s behaviour towards SQ does a 180 - now that he knows he cannot sway SQ, he starts to listen to SQ, and despite all the barbs on the surface, even if he disagrees with SQ’s positive outlook, he makes an effort to contribute and consider SQ’s opinion even if he doesn’t, intrinsically, believe in it. Starts putting himself in front of SQ, and of course SQ doesn’t believe this all the way to the end, where he realizes that he actually, just that tiny little bit, has started liking YWS and doesn’t want him to die.

8. Then they confirm their relationship in the extras, and YWS does do that hot-and-cold thing once so SQ figures out his feelings for him properly - It’s SQ that initiates the confirmation at the end I think

---

I think at some level, YWS cannot stand how naive Shen Qiao is, and some of the things that he’s leading Shen Qiao to think about/discover are valid - And throughout the book it’s proven true - SQ is kind to Chen Jing, but Chen Jing sells him out (not just once but thrice). He’s kind to and has always doted on Yu Ai, but Yu Ai sells him out too. The elders in his sect - some of them obviously turned to Yu Ai over him despite SQ never having given them reason to doubt him. I don’t think YWS is being deliberately cruel (or abusive) - he’s forcing SQ to look at reality, a reality that YWS sees and lives in.

He always asks Shen Qiao why he trusts others so easily, and afterwards, Shen Qiao does admit that YWS is right in this aspect - he won’t give up his ideals and how he gives everyone the benefit of the doubt, but through YWS, he realizes he needs to be able to think ahead to protect himself and the ppl around him.

Doesn’t excuse the SJX thing YWS did, and I’m sure SQ doesn’t conveniently forget about that either, but in terms of how/why they got together, I guess it’s because despite everything they do know each other best, and are soulmates (tho not only in the sugar-spice-and-everything-nice way i.e. SQ does think YWS is handsome and YWS thinks SQ is the cutest thing ever later). SQ has seen the worst of YWS, and YWS has seen the worst of him - and SQ is made to realize that what he was before was not the best path he could go on because of YWS, but he adjusts his attitude slightly and holds on to his ideals sufficiently.

On the other hand, YWS still does not believe everyone except his Ah Qiao can truly say they’re good and keep to it in every way, still thinks the worst of a lot of people if not all, but he stops to consider SQ’s POV and input now, whose opinions and every action now mean more to him than anything else ever will. Of course he has to prove himself and earn SQ’s trust back, but I guess he also doesn’t expect SQ to reciprocate, even after he developed feelings for SQ, knowing full well that he’s a mofo and SQ has every right to hate him after all he did.

They don’t fix each other, they’re not each other’s salvations, but they fit and come sort of to a truce, despite having differing views and principles.

Manipulation? Sure, but I think we forget that Shen Qiao is not a victim (except the part where he’s given to SJX) and his agency in every situation is apparent - He’s pretty clear-minded, he knows what Yan Wushi is doing, knows what his character is like, knows that he’s doing/saying things all to get a reaction out of him. He doesn’t expect YWS to help him either, because he knows YWS is here for fun and games. He doesn’t go along with YWS just because, either. He just made a wrong call by trusting that YWS reciprocated his feelings of friendship (not that it’s his fault at all), but that is certainly a moment of weakness he probably regrets.

---

In summary, I personally wasn’t all that put off by YWS’s behaviour, altho I agree the SJX incident is pretty much unforgivable. For me I read this more from the SQ perspective, because his strength shines in every moment and interaction with YWS and overshadows YWS by a lot, which is why the end makes sense to me.

In response to your question - yes YWS does get better when he’s finally totally convinced that SQ is not a hypocrite (although yeah it takes him a while to get there). And for me it’s nice to see Shen Qiao figure out himself, and also his feelings for YWS after, but also never once compromising himself for YWS.

But YWS is definitely less palatable than most other characters in danmei, so it’s natural if you dislike him and remain unconvinced! It happens XD If you hate this, I suggest you try Wu Shuang! Set in the same universe and timeline, and actually doesn’t have much angst - full on bantering between the main CP, constant veiled insults etc.

#qian qiu #asks

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lady-divine-writes · 5 years

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For drabble list #2 Ineffable Husbands "When I'm with you, I'm home." Crowley to Zira.

Here you are. I hope you like it

Home (Rated PG13)

When Aziraphale notices Crowley eschew going back to his flat at the end of the night in favor of sleeping in his Bentley outside Aziraphale’s shop, Aziraphale braves a rainstorm to find out why. (1732 words)

Aziraphale hums happily as he removes a saucepan of milk from the stove and prepares his mug of cocoa – a plucky, rich, Bolivian blend he had smuggled into Soho a few decades earlier. The moment the milk hits the shredded chocolate, his entire bookshop smells sweeter, homier, cozier (if such a thing is possible).

Vivaldi’s Four Seasons spins on the gramophone - a rare original pressing he purchased from an estate sale longer ago than he cares to remember. Strains of Summer fill the air, the notes dancing off those long silenced violin strings evoking memories of warmth and whimsy; bright afternoons spent strolling through fragrant grass, feeding ducks at the pond, soaking in felicity in all its romantic forms.

Ironic since it’s currently hours before dawn in the middle of autumn, the sky black as fresh tar and raining buckets outside.

Aziraphale sets his mug of cocoa down on his desk and takes a peek out the closest window. Beneath the relentlessly beating spray, a Bentley sits, parked alone by the curb, a dark sentry guarding his storefront. Aziraphale sighs. It must be freezing outside! As the thought passes through his mind, a violent wind blows, pushing the rain sideways and making his glass panes shiver. The Bentley’s engine is off. Aziraphale can see that from here. Which means no heater. Even if Crowley has miracled the heater on, there has to be a chill.

Crowley doesn’t like the chill air. He dresses in layers and wool coats during the winter. But the last time Aziraphale saw him (roughly eight hours ago) he only had a thin button down and a satin jacket on – more style than substance in Aziraphale’s opinion.

Why is he out there? It’s three in the morning! Why isn’t he home, riding out the storm with a bottle of whiskey, lying beneath the thick comforter on his enormous bed? It sounds like the perfect way to spend a blustery evening like this to Aziraphale, who rarely likes to sleep.

A streak of lightning brightens the sky and Aziraphale sees him, his profile painting a stoic silhouette on the driver’s side window. He must be miserable, sitting upright in that cramped leather seat. Aziraphale would say he’s being ridiculous and stubborn, but he has no clue what about! Thunder pounds out a discordant rhythm overhead. A flash of lightning follows on its heels, then another boom of thunder immediately after that, indicating this storm is going nowhere.

If tonight is anything like last night and the night before, neither is Crowley.

And Aziraphale needs to find out why.

***

Knock-knock-knock.

“Mrrr …” Crowley stirs grumpily, squeezing his eyelids shut tight. He’s not asleep, just resting his eyes. The lightning overhead along with the raindrops reflecting the neon shop signs like a thousand liquid points of light are doing his head in. The pounding of the rain on the body of his car pings inside his ears like a twenty-gallon drum of tailor’s pins overturned on a rusted tin roof.

He couldn’t sleep even if he wanted to.

Knock-knock-knock.

A second disturbance but louder. Crowley refuses to open his eyes.

“Go … away …” he mumbles through his teeth, hoping his voice carries. He doesn’t have the energy to move more than that. It’s this blasted cold! He’d decided to let his body shut down naturally instead of wasting a miracle to get the heater running.

Didn’t need anyone downstairs knowing his whereabouts.

The cold would feel less mind-numbing if he turned into a snake, but he doesn’t like to do that too often.

KnockKnockKnock!

“I’m not drunk, officer,” he groans, fully prepared to shift his head into something hideous and tell the nosy cop, bothering him for the ninth time, where to stick it. “I told you, I’m catching a few zzz’s. I’m in no condition to drive,” he lies.

“It’s not a police officer, Crowley!” a voice shouts over the rain. “It’s me!”

Crowley’s eyes pop open. “Aziraphale?”

“Yes! Can I come in? I’m about to drown out here!”

“Oh. Right. Sorry ‘bout that.” Crowley reaches over and opens the door, wondering why Aziraphale didn’t do it himself. It was unlocked. But as Aziraphale climbs in, the rainwater avoiding his body as if he’s wrapped in an invisible slicker, Crowley sees that the angel’s arms are full, a large-ish picnic basket hugged to his chest.

“Am I taking you somewhere?” Crowley asks as he watches Aziraphale settle in with his basket. “It’s a bit early in the morning for a picnic. A smidge damp, too.”

“No, silly. I’ve brought you some provisions. I have a blanket …” Aziraphale pulls a tartan flannel out from inside his coat and spreads it over the demon’s lap without prompting. Then he rifles through his basket, naming off items as he presents them. “A Thermos of cocoa, a tin of biscuits, some finger sandwiches …” He lifts a bottle of amber liquid. “Rum?”

“That’s the ticket,” Crowley chuckles, reaching for the bottle. “Mighty nice of you. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Crowley unscrews the cap and takes a swig. “This is quite the spread you’ve assembled. What’s the occasion?”

“I wanted to ask you a question, if you don’t mind.”

Crowley snorts. “You wanted to ask me a question? At three in the morning?”

“Well, you see, that’s part of it, yes.” Aziraphale opens the tin of biscuits and offers Crowley one. He picks a chocolate shortbread and sticks it in his mouth, devouring it without tasting it, Aziraphale suspects - unwilling to turn him down considering Aziraphale tromped out in the rain to give it to him. “What are you doing here? You’ve been out here the past few nights.”

“I’m keeping an eye on you,” Crowley says, covering up discomfort with another swig of rum.

“Why do you need to keep an eye on me? Is there something you’re not telling me? Something you heard from …?” Aziraphale doesn’t say it, letting his eyes finish his question by shooting a pointed glance downward.

“No,” Crowley assures him. “Not at all.”

“You needn’t worry about me so much, you know,” Aziraphale says, sighing with relief nonetheless. “I’m prepared for any possible attack. I have salt, a crucifix, a bucket of water under my desk, ready to be blessed at a moment’s notice. I even have a sword! Not my flaming sword, of course, but a serviceable piece of steel. I can take care of myself.”

“I know that.”

“So, you can go home, if you’d like.”

Crowley turns his head slightly to peer out the windshield. In the deadlock created between the too bright lights outside and the Stygian shadows inside, Aziraphale sees Crowley bite his lips together. “No. I can’t.”

“Why not?”

Crowley puts a hand on the steering wheel, curling his fingers around the pebbly surface and gripping hard, then releasing again. His pose suggests that he might actually turn the car on and drive off despite his protestations. Aziraphale would still be in the vehicle with him, but that’s a moot point. “My flat … it doesn’t feel like home to me. Not so much. Not anymore.”

“And your Bentley does?” Aziraphale teases, though right as he says it, he realizes it very well might.

“No.” Crowley swallows. “You.”

Aziraphale’s brows draw together as he attempts to wring meaning out of that short answer. “Me what?”

“It’s you, Aziraphale. Wherever you are, that feels like home to me. When I’m with you … I’m home.”

“Because I remind you of Heaven?” Aziraphale ventures. He doesn’t want to misunderstand Crowley. There have been too many misunderstandings during the course of their Arrangement, their friendship, and whatever this is trying to become.

“No, for Satan’s sake!” Crowley groans, frustration taking hold. “Because you’re you! You’re the only true friend I’ve ever had! And at some point over the past 6000 years, you became my guiding light. The only thing that matters to me in this pathetic Universe. I’m not here because I enjoy sitting in my car in the rain. I’m here because the farther I am from you, the unhappier I become. And contrary to popular opinion, I don’t enjoy being unhappy.”

“I … I never knew that,” Aziraphale says softly.

“Yeah, well …”

There’s something more to that sentence. Aziraphale knows there is. But regardless of what’s going on behind those yellow eyes of Crowley’s, he’s come to the conclusion that he’s said enough.

Pity because Aziraphale would love to hear more.

“I see,” Aziraphale says for lack of anything better. “Well, in that case, would you like to come inside? Get out of the cold?”

Crowley makes an eggy noise. “I don’t need you pitying me, angel.”

“I’m not pitying you. Believe it or not, I don’t quite relish being alone either.”

“Not,” Crowley replies.

“In fact,” Aziraphale continues, “there are a great many things I don’t enjoy doing alone.”

“You could have fooled me.” But Crowley decides to bite. Aziraphale obviously has something up his sleeve. As long as it’s not a card trick or a dead dove, he’s game to find out. “Like what?”

“Like reading …”

“Yeah, right! You forget all about me when you’re reading!”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t like having you around.”

“What else?”

“Drinking …”

Crowley’s mouth pulls down in a thoughtful frown. “All right. I’ll give you that one.”

“Sleeping …”

Crowley laughs. “You don’t sleep.”

“That’s because I don’t like to sleep alone.”

Crowley looks over at Aziraphale, disbelieving, as the angel’s clear blue eyes stare back.

Stare back hopefully.

Crowley doesn’t know what Aziraphale is getting at, but he’s not the type to give in when he’d rather say no. He’s invited Crowley into his bookshop dozens of times to talk and drink and otherwise socialize.

But invite him inside to sleep? Presumably together?

That intrigues Crowley … too much to say no.

“Maybe I should come inside then. It’s been a long night. You look like you might need your rest.”

Aziraphale smiles beneath the violet glow of the restaurant across the street, casting him a wily aura. “That would be a great help to me,” he says, repacking his picnic basket.

“I’m nothing if not helpful,” Crowley says, opening the door and exiting the car, bottle of rum in tow, while Aziraphale finishes up.

Aziraphale shakes his head. “Let’s not get too carried away, my dear.”

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #frankie writes

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dino-folly · 4 years

Text

Part two of dnd

Libby pov

Okay so Libby you were in your own home, when worms began eating through your floors, a group of worms so large they tangled themselves in each other

They told you they needed help, to find a girl and bring her back to them

They told you that this girl should be in the mountains far south of your home, and you akwardly refused because you needed to stay home for schooling and such but then the worms rose revealing more and more worms falling and rising like a spout of water

They told you that you may not refuse, or else they would take you instead

they were sure they could make you look like her

And so you took your horse that may or may not have also been stolen and you made your way south

You make your way to a wall that stretches as far as the eye can see, the only thing in the smooth stone a gate that sat wide open

you pass through and find two women

one vaugle matching the description of the girl the worms asked for

Dm pov

HELLO THERE *ahem*

"So uh,, lovely weather we are having huh?

I guess what I'm trying to say is, you must come with me!" Libby then attempts to put blobbers, the woman who vaguely resembles the description, on their epic horse

Blobbers screams, and instantly in the other Autumn's hand appears a short curved blade "Hey!" She shouts at libby "Let go of my dance partner!"

Libby makes a verbal key smash "But,, I want to dance with her!! On my horse!! Back home!!"

Failed persuasion check

Autumn sprints at lib and kicks ltheir back and the vines around her feet whip their neck

-4 damage

Libby yells, still holding onto blob as they summon their familiar

Homebrew spell tries to grow a tiny snail but failed wasting a spell slot

Libby feels magic tingle in their arm as they use summon and grow familiar and you grin triumphantly

But then they see it appear on the tip of their finger

a snail, the size of a raindrop

While they spent time useing magic Autumn grabs lib by the arm and twists it off of blobbers before throwing them to the ground

Smh blobbers the dumb lesbian saved by the other dumb lesbian

Autumn stands over Libby on the ground and points her blade at them glowering

"What do you want with my dance partner?"

Blob: Kinda hot ngl

Nat: BLOB YOU SIMP

"To tango" libby lies

"You threw her on your horse, because.. you wanted to dance with her?" She questioned, shaking her head "You are going to have to tell me the truth."

"Fine. Picture the scene, you are a human in a house, minding your own business, when suddenly, worms come out at you and tell you to come here and to bring them a person with the description they listed!"

Autumn puts her blade away and looks to libby "You were summoned by worms?" Her eyes shift to blob for a moment "But isn't that what you were here for?" She asks blobbers

Libby stares at blobbers confusedly

"Oh yeah, yeah I was" blobbers said

"Then obviously she isn't who you are looking for" Autumn holds a hand out to lib to offer help up

Libby accepts help taking her hand and she pulls libby up akwardly then goes to help blob up by picking her up bridal style and setting her back down on her feet "You two have the same goal, so now you can't kidnap my dance partner right?"

Blob: nAT I AM ALREADY GAY

"I suppose." Libby brushes off dirt from their clothes

"But surely if the worms sent us here that means,, the one we are looking for,, is nearby..?"

Autumn shakes her head "You aren't even half way there, it is a weeks journey on horse from here."

"what??? Aw man, I'm gonna miss my bug racing tournament now" libby groaned

"W e e k s??" Blob questioned "That's like, more than 7 days"

"Well it's over a thousand miles, it takes a while to get to those mountains. There are many resting places though, and I wouldn't doubt there being a bug race in the gambling place in the next town" she offers akwardly clearly not a fan of bugs

"GAMBLING?!! SIGN. ME. UP!" Libby cheers

"Money??? I'm going." Blobbers the capitalist agreed

"I can show you the way there if you'd like me to come with you" Autumn began and blobbers did not even hesitate to say "Yes."

"Sure- Besides,, it would be nice to have some sort of company considering how long this journey is gonna be" libby hopped onto their horse and gave their familiar a pat "hold on tight bagel" the whispered

Autumn beams, then gets onto blobbers horse, holding a hand out to help blob on behind her "I hope it is alright we ride together, as I don't have a steed"

Blob: Ah dang I cant say anything about the riding thing, there are children present

"Uhhhhh horse,,, big" blobbers commented before Autumn helped Blob onto the horse in front of her and arms around blob to stear the horse they lead lib's horse to the next town

It takes about three hours so by the time they get there the sun is rising at 7 am

Blobbers falls off the horsedramatically, and Autumn hops off the horse and helps blobbers up again "Are you tired from the ridding? I can get us to an inn if you need rest"

"Ah. .,. The tired.,.,., walking.,.,.such an extenuating exercise,..,.,if only there was a way .,.,.,.to n o t walk ,..,"

Autumn snorts and picks blob up "shall I carry you to the nearest inn then?" She grinned

"YES- I mean. If it's not too much trouble"

"Will you talk to me, Bagel?" Libby asked the snail

Bagel chews gently on their arm, it doesn't hurt but it tickles a bit

Autumn smiles and looks to lib "You need rest to, after the sorta fight from kidnapping blobbers, you're a little roughed up."

She takes the reigns of horse and leads lib and horses to the nearest in in town while carrying dumb lesbian tm

Break to talk spell slots and what a rest will do

They are taken/carried to the town inn, which happens to have a stable next door. And lock up the horses

Autumn then takes them to a gambling shack across town, and find a sign saying there is indeed a bug race!

They go in, and are met with the smell of cooked meats and sound of cheers as many people are placing bets at one counter and at the other snacks are served

As libby walks up to the counter the man managing bets slides across the counter and smiles "come to place a bet? Next race is for bug, but afternoons horses and evening will be dogs."

He waves at the sign that has a list of bugs they may bet on. There are many bugs, including but not limited to rhino bettles and african land snails

but they notice there is no worms on the list

Blob: is this place legal?

Nat: wisdom check

Blob: 7

Nat: you didn't even know bug races existed

"Yes, I bet 200 on the snail." Libbly places 200 copper on the table and the man hands them a ticket with a grin "thank you kindly, luck laddeh"

"I bet 200 copperoonis to the grasshopper" blob sets the money on the table

The man laughs and holds up a ticket "Sure thing lass, grass hoppers are lucky after all"

Blob steps away from the counter and to autumn "Miss tarta what are your thoughts on cheating, lying and deceiving?"

Autumn raises a brow and grins "depends on the context of the lying cheeting and stealing. Why have you asked?"

Game paused, libby sleepy

#dungeons and blobbers #Litol dnd game

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maxheadley · 6 years

Text

Part 1; The Fairy Lights

Autumn was welcomed for two reasons; the slight shift of the weather changing from heat to cold, and the long-awaited day where two beloved, infamous star-crossed lovers wedded. Everyone was on their toes, anticipating the grand union, and not a single soul stopped for a second.

As morning arrived, Sebastian woke to the patterns of footsteps, going back and forth in the hallway of Creedence's home. He sighed, wishing they'd stop for just a split second, and give him a minute of silence. The last fews days were busy preparing for his wedding and it almost seemed like the world would never halt. Silence was a wish he would fail to receive.

He kicked off the stark white comforter and turned on his side, sliding a muscular arm under his fluffy pillow. His dark hair dangling dangerously close to his eyes, he pushed them away. He stared at the bare walls of his old bedroom. He recently moved his items into the master bedroom of Ben and his's newly built cottage (courtesy of the Fey folk). He left one item on the nightstand. The one thing he cared enough to leave with him that night. A picture of him, his brothers and sisters and his grandmother. The family he hardly knew except Creedence and Julissa. The family he came to know, the family he would've never traded for the world despite any faults or any bad luck following them. Or the corruption that followed a couple of them.

He ran his fingertips across the nine faces of his family, erasing a film of gathered dust off the glass. Sebastian stood at Creedence's side, snugly in the middle of Creedence, and Ambrosia. His smile was as bright as the sun as were the others. He had never known happiness like he did and rekindling the broken parts of his family helped and finding the love of his life wasn't bad at all. It was great. Too bad not everyone could see Sebastian achieve his goal he dreamt of since he was twelve. He thought of Alura trapped in the confines of chains, deeply hidden among the cells of Glessica's Castle's personal prison. Probably half driven out of her mind having nothing to do and no one to speak to except the shadows across the walls. And then he thought of Alexander, his twin but drastically different brother, who walked the forests of the Dark Fey. He had become trapped in misery, grief, and turmoil and wondered off to the darkest place he could escape to. Like those who are like him, encased in darkness and unfaltering misery, slowly destroying whatever light and love that fought inside them.

Sebastian hadn't known Alexander very well or really been close to Alura, but nonetheless he wished they'd witness their brother marry. He did ask if Anazul would release Alura for the hour of his wedding but obviously to no avail and none of the Fey could track down Alexander. He suspected his twin brother wouldn't want to be found, so he cloaked himself to remain untraceable and among the shadows of what he loss. Sadly.

He jumped, straight out of his reverie, when a knock sounded on his door. He cleared his throat and yelled. "Yeah? Come in!"

The door opened, revealing his brother standing there, one hand snaked around the doorknob and one hand holding the head of his cane. Creedence looked older and younger at the same time. He suffered a loss of his own. His wife committed suicide not wanting to live without her husband and without knowing he'd be resurrected. Though, unlike Alexander, Creedence had children to stay for. He couldn't wander off and leave it all behind. That'd be a mistake.

His hair was wet, probably from his shower, and his unusually thin, body was draped in an oversized black bathrobe tied at his waist. "Hey, Bash." Creedence's pale face broke out into a radiant smile, one which reached his eyes. Sebastian noticed for the first time in an age.

It brought his own smile to play. "Hey, Dee. If you thought you were going to wake me up, you've mistaken. The footsteps of others woke me up." He joked, sitting up and stretching his back. A couple cracks later, he was standing up and striding over to his brother. "Although, I appreciate the gesture."

"You know just because it's your wedding day doesn't mean you-" Creedence began, but Sebastian enveloped him into a huge bear hug. Creedence's laugh erupted into his ear and Sebastian couldn't help the grin that flew onto his face when they broke apart. "I'm going to miss living with you, Dee."

"I can't say that I won't miss you living here either. I know Cres and Reli will be different, but sometimes change is inevitable." Creedence beckoned to the working servants preparing the last of the decorations and tailoring for the children's attire. Not one of the servants bothered to take a break to glance at Creedence and Sebastian. He didn't blame them. One misstep could poke Crescent's skin or cause an unnecessary rip in one of the papier mache balls (used to cover the lights). No one wanted anything to go wrong at this point and Crescent would probably lit the seamstress on fire if she stabbed him with a needle. He hated needles.

"How are you holding up?" Sebastian asked, leaning over the iron railing and watching the seamstress tailor the last bits of material for Crescent's silver blazer. Crescent was staring at the rain splattered window unregistering anything else around him. Sebastian would have to have a thorough talk to his nephew once he had the chance.

Creedence put his free hand on Sebastian's shoulder and squeezed. "I'm excited. Truly." He smiled at his little brother. "I can't believe my little brother, my Bash is getting married this evening!"

"It is a shock? Isn't it? I can hardly believe it myself." Sebastian smiled, putting one hand in his hair. "Do you think Ben is doing well? I mean he's probably still asleep, but I mean all the wedding events and preparations have been a bit stressful. Do you think he's okay?"

"Ben's a tough cookie. He's unapologetically unafraid."

"You know, sometimes you can be too."

Creedence shrugged, pressing off the railing and stepped back. "I think we all can be, Bash."

Ben tried on his suit a thousand and one times since Rhea finished up the last of the silver detailing on the cuffs and collar of his blazer. He admired the way the suit did not make him appear too large nor too scrawny. It was exactly the right fit and shape for someone with his condition. Later, he'd confidently stand on the dais, waiting for his beloved, and have his stolen little moments of glory finally. He now stood in front of the extremely large wall mirror of his bathroom. He ran his freshly cleaned hands across the top of the white, silky like fabric smoothing any riffs.

He smiled. "Damn, I look good."

"You are the definition of handsome!" said the soft voice of his best friend, Ambrosia. He saw her appear in the reflection of the mirror at his side. She stood about five inches shorter, barely reaching his shoulder. She had one hand over her protruding stomach. She was beginning to show. Her second pregnancy wasn't as fast paced as her first for some strange reason. He couldn't help but have his heterochromic eyes drawn to the small baby bump hidden beneath a deep maroon soft fabric. But he said nothing onto the contrary. Instead, focusing on her words.

"Ah! Don't let Michael hear you say that. You know how jealous he gets!" Ben grinned, meeting her eyes in the mirror.

"Oh. Whatever." Ambrosia chuckled, gently pushing him. He barely stumbled and laughed. "Are you ready to be officially united with Sebastian?" Ambrosia added, her emerald-gold cat slitted eyes gleaming deviously.

"It's been a longtime coming.." Ben began, but trailed off. He stared at the reflection of Ambrosia. Before Michael, before Magnus, before Sebastian, he'd thought he'd be married off to Ambrosia procreating and leading the Wolf Pack. But God and Legend had other plans apparently. His destiny taking a broad turn for the best. He picked up after a couple of seconds because Ambrosia inquired more. "I thought you were the one I'd be married to one day. I never expected to fall for your brother. I didn't know he existed til about two years ago before I found out our memories of anytime before that were erased. But I wouldn't change a thing between you and me, nor me and Sebastian. I am happy our lives worked out this way. We're both happy."

Ambrosia's lips spread into a smile. "It's no lie you are happiest at his side. I think that's most important."

Ben could only smile, too.

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misterpeterjoshua · 3 years

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To confirm, I have not necessarily been kidnapped and I'm not necessarily being held hostage. But it's been months since I had access to a bed or shower and my online access to the public, my fans, and emergency funding has been stolen. It's really scary, and really difficult, and really traumatizing, and I hope the authorities catch whoever is responsible and fix the problems as soon as possible

Peter Joshua is my stage name that I use for all public publication, mention, performance, sale, and display since 2016. I am retired from public performance, but I had a fairly successful career in performance art (acting/singing) before the identity theft

While I am trying to take some time off, you can probably find a brief run of my debut play with music, "Ten Thousand Bucks", in a space off Broadway next summer. I'm really proud of it and excited about it, though some things obviously need to be cleared up first. I have an audition listing on Backstage if you'd like to submit for an audition. It has almost been fully cast, and I hope to have a casting director take over next spring. It's kind of a Sci-Fi comic tragedy, or something

Also, my life's opus, my debut abstract contemporary sculpture, "Peter Joshua s Yamaha YPT 210 Keyboard For Sale on eBoy" (2018) is coming to global public auction late this year or early next. I may be hosting the auction on my own, though I hope to receive an offer from Sotheby's or Christie's, who I have been in constant contact with about the sale for over 3 years. I'm very very proud of the piece and I hope it finds a nice home. on affiliation, risk valuation, the indelible value of rejection, shame projection, modern marketing techniques, relativity of taste and morality, the nature of value, satire, representation, mega meta modernism, transparency, our mandate to refrain, and the cost of access

Assuming I survive, you can also likely expect to see an album from me in the next year or two, as well as something along the lines of a fashion line

I gave my life to art and the public. I was viciously punished for it and it hasn't ended yet. I still trust art. Hell, I am art. I do not trust the public or any members of it. From the top to the bottom, I have been exploited, hurt, and abused beyond belief

That's not the fault of my fans, I don't think. Though I don't have the clearest grasp on the scope of my fandom, due to the communications malfeasance. I hope they show themselves soon. I'm really hurting and I need help and I have lived in public for a half decade and I need public witness and even aid

I have made blogs elsewhere. They are instantly hacked and hidden. I suspect a rogue internal entity, though I really have no idea who is responsible. It's a mess. I have called it terrorism, and I stand by it. The internet is supposed to be open access. That's the only good thing about it. My rights are being violated, not in a petty inactive microaggression way, and a very applied active terrifying harmful way

To think that a half decade of my life was stolen, and that I lived through unspeakable terror and trauma, perhaps at the hands of some underpaid deranged tech occultist with unhinged access to an internal mute button. It's pretty infuriating. Though I suspect higher powers are involved, at their own disgrace. I know lots of people don't like me. It's my favorite thing about myself. Between atheism, homosexuality, socialism, and other areas of interest, enthusiasm, and study, I'm bound to pick up some scum haters. That's one of the most exhilarating parts of life. I have no problem or even discomfort with people loathing my existence. It's the human rights abuses, felonies, state crimes and I believe war crimes and applied domestic terrorism that I have a problem with

Anyways, if anyone can see this, I hope you find it to be a mildly charming far more than cry for help. I have attached the links to my public social media channels below. I don't know if they're visible. You may please follow and share my work. I started writing poetry as a way to vent grief, fear, and confusion, and to make a few bucks for food. I am happy with the poems I created in the last 2 years, and you can probably find them in a published collection in the next year or two

If anyone on earth would like to contribute to my survival, I am desperately seeking emergency funds. I need to pay my rent, bills, legal fees, and I need to get off my feet for a bit and heal from some deep physical, mental, psychological, and emotional grief and trauma

Here are my tip links, though I believe PayPal and venmo may be stealing from me. If you send me money, and don't receive a thank you, please notify me somehow as well as the police. If anyone knows anything about the coding bugs, hacks, visibility restrictions, and theft on my public and private communications and financial channels, please report any information you have to the NYPD and FBI. The crimes remain an extremely urgent emergency security concern for myself and many others, and aggressive murder attempt, a hate crime, and an act of domestic terrorism. Yes, it's heavy. And it's really really scary and it's been going on for a really long time, while I have begged everyone I could find or contact to please assist

I have no idea what's going on. It must end

PayPal.me/mrpeterjoshua

Venmo: mrpeterjoshua (5571)

You may send any amounts you'd like, anything would make my day. You may also request a signed print of one of my poems, which I will likely gladly create and send. Make me an offer. The poem prints are not to be resold for profit and I retain all copyrights. Public display or sale for charity would be fine

Members of the public, press, or anyone else may reach me for anything at any time. I believe some of my incoming and outgoing emails are being intercepted by an unknown entity, which is obviously illegal and unacceptable. Between my facebook, twitter, instagram, and the three email addresses here, you should be able to reach me, though I can't always reply to everyone

Instagram/Twitter: mrpeterjoshua

Facebook.com/misterpeterjoshua

[email protected]

I'm sorry to burden Tumblr and it's users with this update. I've been really hurting for a really long time at the hands of some of the world's worst people, and I could really use some help

I hope you all have the most marvelous end of summer and that you're autumn is filled with warmth, bountiful harvests, safety, and peace

~peter joshua

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