mogiarty

[squireofgeekdom]

I could finish reading one series and then start reading/rereading another series. Or ... I could do whatever this is.

[follineo]

please, don't give me a chance to draw after watching anything. I get fixated on one two characters and several pages of sketchbook will turn into sketches of him

I wanted to draw Maximus, but in the end…. INCIDENTALLY… I make a page with Thaddeus

meow (Since I'm not sure if the detail is a spoiler or not, I've hidden it)

And, of course, I had to try to draw the Ghoul. I'm still probably not the best at it, but I enjoyed painting him

I mostly drew them from memory while sitting in class to pass the time.

Someday I will definitely learn how to draw ghouls... but okay, who am I lying to? One day I'm gonna learn how to draw real people.

Well now I have to draw something other than sketches… Right?

[lilareviewsbooks]

June Rapid-Fire Reading Wrap-Up: 15 SFF/Romance Books

Hey guys! Happy June (boooo no more pride month!!)! Last month I read a whopping 15 books (do not ask me how) and so I thought I'd do a quick little monthly wrap up for you guys :)

Mortal Follies, by Alexis Hall

416 pages | 2.5 stars | WLW rep!

I reviewed this in my Queer Bridgerton Post, so I'll be brief! This one follows Maelys, as she finds out she's cursed by a magical entity and recruits a grumpy Ducchess to help her break it. The gimmick is that the whole story is narrated by a member of the fae, who has been exiled and is reminiscing on their Regency adventures!

I thought the gimmick was pretty cool, but the plot lost itself in the second half. The main conflict is resolved way too soon and it spirals from there. But I loved the first half and thought it had a strong point about women's bodily autonomy in Regency England. Since I loved the narrative voice so much, I think I'll continue with the series!

The Navigating Fox, by Christopher Rowe

160 pages | 4 stars | no queer rep on page

I'm finally getting back into novellas! I was excited to read this one: in a world where animals speak and act like humans, the world's only sentient fox begins a journey with a rag tag group to the doors of Hell...

I thought the premise was really interesting and so was the world-building. There's a lot to love here as it really does build a very interesting world that's immersive. But I thought the ending was rushed and that kinda soured it for me. Though overall, I would recommend!

Squire, by Nadia Shammas & Sara Alfageeh

305 pages | 2.5 stars | no queer rep on page

Squire is a graphic novel that I had started once in a bookstore and had really wanted to finish! We follow Aiza, who's part of a minority under Imperial rule, as she trains to achieve her dream of becoming a Knight.

The art for this is absolutely beautiful, and the themes are also very important and well thought-out, as you can clearly tell with the authors' reflections at the end of the book. But I found myself enjoying those more than the graphic novel itself. The TLDR is that I think the graphic novel does not communicate visually. Instead, it communicates via dialogue, which makes it all feel rushed. Plus, I feel like this could've been a book: although the art absolutely has its merits, nothing convinces me that this story had to be told in graphic novel format. In the end, I wasn't that impressed by the story-telling!

The Obelisk Gate, by N.K. Jemisin

410 pages | 4.5 stars | transfem side character!

Oh my God, The Obelisk Gate! This one is hard to review because it's the second book in the Broken Earth Trilogy. In the first book, we follow Essun, who has magical powers related to the Earth, and two other perspectives, as new "Season" begins, and the world turns desolate again.

This one picks up right where we left off, and I had a really good time! Jemisin's writing style is addicting, and I feel like I know Essun so intimately! It's definitely a middle book in the sense that I was only given more questions and didn't really get any answers, but I'm happy with that hahahah I'm halfway through the third book and loving it, as well! Highly recommend, especially for fans of The Locked Tomb!

The Memoirs of Lady Trent, by Marie Brennan (vols. 2 - 5)

350ish pages | 5 stars | genderqueer character in vol. 3!

The highlight of my month was definitely The Memoirs of Lady Trent! I listened to the audiobook of 4 volumes this month, and was absolutely addicted. The narration by Kate Reading is amazing!!

The series follows Isabella, who lives in a fantastical version of Victorian England, and rebels against societal implications by being obsessed with the study of dragons, and fucking off whenever possible to study them! Each book is one of her adventures, but they all culminate beautifully in the last volume with one hell of a reveal!

I couldn't pick a favorite, but it's between 2 and 3, and for a least favorite, I'd have to give it to book 4. But I had fun with all of them regardless, and was so charmed by the cast of characters! My only qualms were with the endings, which I always felt were a little rushed. But even that didn't hinder my excitement and my love for these books - they are amazing! Definitely new favorites!

(I have a more detailed review of book 2 here.)

The Justice of Kings, by Richard Swan

496 pages | 3.5 stars | no queer rep on page

Next up, The Justice of Kings! It follows Helena, the assistant to Sir Vonvalt, who is detective, judge and executioner of a sprawling Empire, as she and her boss uncover a conspiracy in a smalltown.

I enjoyed the book, but it wasn't what I expected. This is more of a mystery than anything else, and I was expecting a little more than that (not that there's anything wrong with mystery!). I also feel like the characters didn't really change from the beginning to the end of the book, and that the ending doesn't entice you into reading the second book. But I've heard great things about the second book, and so I'll be reading it this month for sure!

The Secret Lives of Country Gentlemen, by K.J. Charles

331 pages | 4 stars | MLM main couple!

I also reviewed this one for the Queer Bridgerton Post, so I'll be brief once again! This one follows Gareth, who runs into his old lover when he comes to Romney Marsh to claim his inheritance from a father he didn't know - and ends up with a sister and a step-mother!

I really enjoyed this! It's very sweet! I thought Gareth's trauma was dealt with expertly, and that his love interest is very charming. The side plot deals with smuggling, so it's very exciting - if a little ridiculous at times! But I had fun regardless! Definitely recommend!

The Lady's Guide to Celestial Mechanics, by Olivia Waite

219 pages | 5 stars | WLW main couple!

Another one that I reviewed for the Queer Bridgerton Post! This was definitely my favorite of the bunch. It follows Lucy, an astronomer, who takes up residence with the Countess of Moth in order to translate a particularly tricky piece of French mathematics. It deals with the trials of women to get scientific and artistic recognition in Regency England, and also explores abusive relationships and other pressures put on women at the time.

Despite the heavy topics, it manages to stay very sweet and compelling! I found the discussion of embroidery in particular to be very refreshing and impactful - I haven't stopped thinking about it since. Highly recommend!

Gwen & Art Are Not in Love, by Lex Croucher

416 pages | 4 stars | WLW and MLM main couples!

The last of the Queer Bridgerton Post books! This one takes place in medieval England, where the princess Gwen and her bethrothed Art find out they are very much gay - and hijincks ensue!

I thought this was witty and charming - but it's definitely take it or leave it when it comes to the humor. If it's not your style, put this down, because it won't stop hahaha But because of the humor, I was having a lot of fun, and so ended up rating it highly even though I see plenty of flaws. In specific, I think the romances are barely developed - it's more the friendships that end up being the focus. And the ending... It's quite bad. Atrocious, even. I couldn't get specific without spoilers, sorry, but it didn't really ruin it for me. I still would recommend!

The Eye of the World, by Robert Jordan

864 pages | 3 stars | no queer rep on page

This month I also began my Wheel of Time journey, by reading The Eye of the World. To be honest, guys, this read like a gigantic, 800-page prologue to something. Which isn't to say I didn't enjoy it! I did! But I couldn't really tell you where we're going - which honestly, is fine. This series has 13 books, after all.

I'm excited to continue! I've heard things pick up in the second book and so I'll definitely pick it up this month. But this was a little too slow for me, which is why I gave it a 3! I still had fun though! And I'll definitely do a more in-depth review in the future!

The Fireborne Blade, by Charlotte Bond

176 pages | 2.5 stars | WLW rep!

I was very excited to read The Fireborne Blade! It follows a female knight as she ventures into the cavern of a dragon with her squire, which is quite an exciting premise for me! But I found the writing to be too tell-y instead of show-y, and even though the world was awesome, this made me feel less immersed. The twists are also no properly established beforehand, which makes them all come out of nowhere, making the story very weak. Unfortunately I just didn't enjoy myself too much :(

Half A Soul, by Olivia Atwater

304 pages | 4 stars | no queer rep on page!

Listen, I was only going to read this because the third book is sapphic, but I ended up falling in love! I was so pleasantly surprised! This story follows Dora, who was cursed as a child to only have half a soul, and struggles with social cues and her emotions because of this. When her beloved cousin decides to spend the season in London, in search of a husband, Dora trails along, and is soon dropped into a world of magic!

Although intellectually I know the romance is underdeveloped and the social critique is rather lukewarm, I found this to be so charming that I couldn't put it down. It's absolutely delightful and makes you feel warm inside! Dora and her love interest are very sweet together, and it's excellent to see representation for autistic people done so well - and magically! However, I will say I thought the epilogue kind of ruined it. I felt it was absolutely unnecessary!

Regardless, I highly, highly recommend!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

A bunch of books this time hahaha but thank you for sticking with me :) I'm excited for what next month brings and would love to hear from you! What did you read this month? Any stand-outs?

[photos-black-white]

[readingrobin]

June was the beginning of summer reading and man did I come out swinging. If you've been following me for a while, you know that summer reading is a BFD at my work and we have a competition between departments to see who can read the most. The winning department is awarded a 3D printed trophy of a pineapple to store in their office for the rest of the year. My department hasn't won since I switched roles in the library, but really that does not do anything to hurt my competitive nature. I'm a little bit behind where I want to be in my goal towards a specific point total, but it won't be hard to catch up. Gotta give Youth Services a run for their money.

Total Books Reads: 14

Total Pages Read: 5,608

Books Read:

The Princess and the Grilled Cheese Sandwich by Deya Muniz (4/5) - An undeniably sweet, charming, hilarious love story that really puts you in the mood for a toasty grilled cheese. Seriously, I must have had three separate cravings while reading this comic. Each character has such a lovable personality, from Camembert's at times clueless, yet endearing nature, to Brie's sweetness and passion for her causes. They work well as a duo, their personalities a true compliment to each other. 

The artwork is absolutely stunning, especially when to comes to the outfits. It gave me flashbacks to The Prince and the Dressmaker in how articulate and gorgeous they could be. Brie's commitment to pink really makes each one of her wardrobes leap off the page, and, again, brings a great balance when seen with Cam's deeper palettes. 

I somewhat like the anachronistic aspect of the story, that you have traditional depictions of the monarchy with lavish balls and opulence that you would expect out of a fairy tale, and then someone would literally be playing with a Nintendo Switch in the next scene. It plays with the theme of steering away from tradition, depicting more contemporary, progressive-minded characters in a world that still holds onto the aesthetics of the past. 

The Bloody Chamber: And Other Stories by Angela Carter (4.5/5) - Review

The Coyote Road: Trickster Tales edited by Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling (3.5/5) - Trickster tales are my bread and butter: Coyote, Hermes, Loki, Crow, Anansi, each one so varied in their mischief but share a great chaotic force. This archetype has always fascinated me, particularly in how involved they are in humanity, whether that means taking an active role in a creation myth or imparting some wisdom that helps humankind develop in a world that is always in flux. This anthology sports many of these figures, as well as some original ones, and mostly gets its job done of portraying various tricksy individuals.

Like any anthology, it had its hits and its misses. My favorite was "The Fiddler of Bayou Teche" by Delia Sherman. The atmosphere of this particular story really stood out amongst the rest, as well as the voice of the narrator, who has a Cajun vernacular that sucks you even more into the setting. The inclusion of the loup garou also is a massive plus for me. Always a sucker for werewolves am I.

Other stories I enjoyed were "One Odd Shoe," "The Listeners," "Crow Roads," "A Reversal of Fortune," and "Black Rock Blues." Probably a bit of a sign that, out of 26 stories, I only resonated with a small fraction of them, but that's just how it goes. I was definitely thinking by the end that the anthology felt a bit too weighty, or perhaps I was trying to read too much in one go. A lot of the more middling stories were unfortunately stuck in the second half, so by the end it felt a little bit more of a chore to get through.

Burning Down the Haus: Punk Rock, Revolution and the Fall of the Berlin Wall by Tim Mohr (3/5) - An interesting snapshot in history of the punk movement during the time of the Berlin Wall. The author makes the bold claim that the punk presence was a cause for the fall of the wall when he doesn't really say anything to back that information up. The book mainly talks about specific people within the punk community and the challenge of trying to live a subversive lifestyle when going against the status quo could get you arrested. The journeys of some of the people were very engaging, though some did seem more fleshed out than others and many didn't get much of a resolution. I would have loved to have read some retrospectives from some of the people in the community, as it seemed that the author was in contact with them, just to get a wider scope of their stories.

Squire and Knight Vol. 1 by Scott Chantler (4/5) - A charming, funny graphic novel that champions the thought of books over brawn, shown through a young squire saving the day by using his intelligence and reason to get to the bottom of a cursed town. The art of the comic is wonderfully fall-like, the author sticking to a palette of muted oranges, yellows, blacks, and greys that also give it a distinct medieval vibe. Definitely a worthwhile quick read if you like a bit of mystery and humor with your quest narratives.

Also there's a cool looking dragon in it, which should be enough for anyone to read anything really.

Spindle's End by Robin McKinley (4/5) - Robin McKinley has such a fine way of transforming ages old stories and making them more vibrant and engaging for a modern audience. Given how passive Sleeping Beauty is in her own fairy tale at times, McKinley does a phenomenal job of making Rosie a very active agent in her own story in this retelling. Her stubborn, determined, and no nonsense attitude had an odd way of making her endlessly endearing and her rise to action in the climax, as well as her sacrifices, solidified her as a strong, layered character.

The world is so mischievously magical, to the point where fish are a myth and, if you let your kettles unattended, the magic dust settling over them may lead to a surprise of snakes in the pot. McKinley's descriptive style only adds to the mysterious wonder of this land, not making it too difficult to feel yourself instantly transported within its pages.

Since I am a big fan of female friendships that are polar opposites, like the rough and tumble Rosie and the beautiful, princess-like Peony, it's always a shame when those relationships fall second place behind the romantic interests that have all the appeal of drying plaster.  Also, how old exactly is Narl? He's already a smith by the time Rosie is a baby and she develops feelings for him by the time she's 16 having known him her whole life. I have no idea why large age gap romances with emotionally distant men are such a trend in fantasy but I really I think we've had enough of them. 

Other than that, this was a stand out read for me, which is a welcome surprise since I found her other work, like Beauty and The Outlaws of Sherwood to be a bit middling. 

Violet and Jobie in the Wild by Lynne Rae Perkins (3/5) - Read this book as it is my library's book of the summer for this year. It's a simple, sweet story that deals with adapting to new situations shown through two house mice suddenly finding themselves living in the wild. Since the story stuck mostly to lighthearted adventure, I was surprised by its somewhat bittersweet ending. It was a little more mature that what I usually expect out of stories like this, saying that sometimes people drift away from who they love to get where they need to be, and that's all right. The memory of them is what keeps that love alive and I thought that was a sweet sentiment to end on.

The Secrets of Chocolate: A Gourmand's Trip through a Top Chef's Atelier by Franckie Alarcon (2.5/5) - Has some great insight into the process of chocolate making, as well as some scrumptious illustrations that really had me craving some chocolate afterwards. It was a so so reading experience and I mainly read it to fill a category for summer reading, so I can't really give it too high a rating.

The Sandman: Act III by Neil Gaiman (5/5) - Another gorgeous installment in the Sandman Audible series. Seeing as this one collections the Orpheus story, it has some wonderful, beautiful, and melancholic music to it. The full cast brings each character to life and I continue to be impressed at how truly immersive this series is as an audiobook.

The Dead Romantics by Ashley Poston (4/5) - Romances aren't usually my kind of thing, but when you mix in the qualms of a struggling author with ghostly shenanigans, then that makes a title a little more enticing. It also helps that the story focuses on the vulnerabilities surrounding grief as well as love. Florence's emotional journey was such a compelling element, especially when she holds so many fears, aspirations, and insecurities that seeing her come to terms with them feels like more of a triumph.

Though there was plenty of raw emotions in this book, it never turned morose. There is something comforting about seeing Florence rekindle her love for her hometown and finding refuge in her family. Tensions run high at times, but ultimately they're there for each other and somehow make a funeral home feel like a lively place. It's an oddly cozy book at times, full of reflection and soft moments.

Firekeeper's Daughter by Angeline Boulley (4/5) - Firekeeper's Daughter is such a powerful, heartbreaking, but necessary book. Boulley takes the complicated life of Daunis, full of grief and pain. but also an unwavering love and devotion to her family and community. I love how the author speaks of Daunis in relation to her community, that she finds solidarity, wisdom, and support in the Elders that hold the traditions and knowledge of her heritage. Daunis comes from a mixed background, but being Ojibwe is a fundamental part of her character and how she views herself. I loved that she always felt confident in who she was, even when so many refused to recognize her place in the tribe.

I have to say, this book was hard to read at times. Daunis faces so many betrayals and moments where people try and succeed to take advantage of her. It's difficult to see a community in danger because of people who only want to use it for their own selfish desires. The stakes are what make Daunis' every move so important and, even when some decisions don't seem so smart in the moment, you know she's doing everything she can to make sure the people that she loves stay safe. 

Her relationship with Jaimie I felt was handled very maturely. It feels like a natural parallel to Travis' and Lily's, one that knows and respects the aspects of love and what comes with it and one that doesn't. Boulley makes it abundantly clear through so many plotlines that self serving actions are what truly destroy a community and harmony with its members. 

Definitely worthy of its many accolades and a great conversation starter for many of the issues it discusses. 

Mortal Follies by Alexis Hall (3/5) - Review

Spider-verse by Dan Slott (4/5) - An epic Spidey tale for the ages. Though there were SEVERAL Spider people that I was not familiar with, I felt like the story handled/balanced them well enough with the more recognizable ones so it never felt too confusing. I'm sure many of them were introduced in this event series (I definitely tracked this story down solely for reading anything that involved Spiderpunk) so I didn't feel outrageously out of the loop.

While I felt that the story dragged on and off, I never got too bored with it. I wish that the omnibus I read had organized the comics so that certain character-specific issues were included at the time they happened within the overall story. Scarlet Spider, Spiderwoman, and Spiderman 2099 have separate issues that tie directly to the overall plot and are collected after its end, which make them feel like a pointless bit of catch up. They are exciting and important issues, but they could have been integrated a little more coherently.

Definitely going to see if I can track down some more Spiderverse event comics.

Edge of Spider-Geddon by Gerardo Sandoval, Jason Latour, Zac Thompson, et al. (3.5/5) - Sort of a setup for a larger event comic, but gave great introductions/reintroductions to more Spideys across the multiverse. Also, I am a simple creature, and when I see Spiderpunk on the cover, you can bet that I am going to read it in a heartbeat.

Average Rating: 3.71

[philcoulsonismyhero]

❄️ ?🌈?

❄️Share a snippet from a WIP of your choosing.

From 'Don't Carry It All, Don't Carry It All', the current main WIP, and the context is that the previous night Nightingale, who's barely been sleeping because it's only a few days until the 70th anniversary of the Battle of Ettersberg and he's struggling with nightmares, fell asleep in the car and Peter and Molly conspired to get him upstairs without waking him.

We drank our coffee and ate breakfast in tired silence, and it wasn’t until Molly appeared to take the plates away that Nightingale said anything more. He stopped Molly with her name, and then looked from one of us to the other.

“Thank you,” he said, “for last night.” He looked a little bit awkward, but managed a small smile. “And I’m sorry for putting you to the trouble.” Molly dipped a little in something that might have been a curtsy, and then shook her head as if to say it hadn’t been any trouble at all. Nightingale smiled at her again, and she picked up his plate and disappeared, forgetting to grab mine as well.

“Don’t worry about it, boss,” I said. “Molly literally did all the heavy lifting.” He nodded.

“I did wonder how I made it upstairs. That was my first theory, followed by a few slightly more outlandish ones involving you and another of your Impello experiments.” I snorted at the mental image that conjured up. “But the fact that my shoes were left by the bed freshly polished did rather suggest Molly’s involvement.”

🌈 Share something soft/fluffy from your WIP.

This is a slightly emotionally intense sort of soft but I still love it, from later in the same WIP. I'm being deliberately cryptic with Peter's plans at this point, but all will eventually be revealed.

We made it back to the Folly at a decent time that evening, and I told Nightingale the edited highlights of what Seawoll had said about taking a day off over a late dinner. He grimaced when I pointed out that Monday was the anniversary proper, and seemed a little apprehensive at the idea that I had something planned.

“Do I get to know what it is that you’ve come up with?” he asked. I took a deep breath. Moment of truth. Either it was a good idea, or a terrible one, and now was when I’d find out. So I told him.

It took me a little while to lay out my plans, and Nightingale listened to it all without interrupting, and then was silent for a long minute after I finished. His face was pale and pinched and exhausted but otherwise blankly unreadable.

“Well?” I eventually prompted, unable to take the wait any longer. “What do you think?”

“I think…” he said, but his voice caught so he started again. “I think it all sounds like a very good idea.” There was a slight wobble in his voice, and his eyes were shiny. “Thank you, Peter.” He actually reached across the table and awkwardly patted my hand.

“Don’t mention it, boss,” I said, managing a smile. There was a lump in my own throat. 

Then Nightingale pulled his hand back, cleared his throat, and swiped a hand across his eyes. I looked away, giving him a moment to compose himself, and if I’m being honest taking one myself. 

“But that’s Monday,” said Nightingale, his voice steady again, or near enough. I turned back to face him. “We still have another day’s work tomorrow, and I believe I should make some attempt to be functional for it.” He stood up, and had to steady himself for a moment using the back of his chair. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to retire, and see if the sleeping pills that Abdul provided have any effect.”

“Good plan,” I said. “‘Night, boss.”

“Goodnight, Peter.” He disappeared out of the room and I heard his slightly rapid footsteps across the hall and up the stairs. I stared after him, and I didn’t hear Molly come up behind me. I jumped.

“You need to stop doing that!” I said, as has become the traditional response, but she just smiled with her too many teeth. Then she bustled off with Nightingale’s plates, but not before leaving me an extra one with a slice of the really excellent chocolate cake from earlier in the week on it. I looked down at it and smiled. Coppers aren’t the only ones with a bad habit of listening at doorways, and it looked like Molly approved of my idea. 

So, even though I’d just caused my boss to leave the room so that I wouldn’t see him cry and that was causing a little bit of guilt, I ate my cake while feeling pleased with myself, and started making plans in earnest.

[queer-ragnelle]

I saw your list of favorite Arthuriana authors and I can't help but ask for a few of them. What can you tell me about...?

Gerald Morris

Phillis Ann Karr

John Erskine

Marvin Borowsky

Hi anon!

Gerald Morris is the author of The Squire’s Tales, a 10 book children’s series that covers many points of view. A lot of lesser appreciated side characters get focus, like Gaheris, Dinadan, and Lunete. He also has another series written for an even younger audience called The Knights’ Tales. These are still in print and Mr. Morris alive, so I’ve linked to goodreads and you can decide from there if you want to get the books from the library or buy them.

Phyllis Ann Karr is the author of murder mystery Idylls of the Queen which covers the story of the apple poisoning in Le Morte d’Arthur and subsequent search for the culprit. It’s written from first person Kay perspective with deuteragonist Mordred. It’s excellent. She also wrote The Arthurian Companion (which is out of print, so that link is a PDF), The Follies of Sir Harald, and recently published a compilation of short stories that were previously included in now defunct anthologies called Arthurian Tales. They’re all wonderful.

John Erskine wrote two Arthurian books, one is Galahad and I actually haven’t read that one yet but have heard good things. He has another one called Restoring Palamede which is mostly from Palomides perspective and really goes a long way of handling his character with respect and dignity previously never explored. I loved it a lot! It’s an old book so it’s far from perfect in its depiction of a Muslim family (Palomides’ parents are both in it too!) but the effort comes from a good place and was enjoyable. Those links are PDFs where you can read them too!

Marvin Borowsky has a single novel to his name and that novel is The Queen’s Knight. I thrifted this on a whim as I’d never heard of it. Anon, I devoured it in a single day. Enthralled, I tell you. It reminds me of Knights of the Round Table (1953) in that Mordred is an adult from the start as another warlord butting heads with Arthur. The majority of the book is in Lucan the Butler’s point of view, sometimes switching to Mordred or Arthur, and has omnipresent narrative at times too which occasionally dips into other characters’ minds. This book has a whopping four ratings on good reads (one of which is me) and no cover. It’s so niche. Mordred is gay in it (content warning for pederasty) and near the end of the book has a loving relationship with another knight. Agravaine also appears to be hopelessly in love with Lancelot the whole time. I like the characterizations of Orkney bros, Kay, Lucan and kin, Guinevere. Most of the characters really! The writing style is delicious. Lucan’s wife Jocelyn and Kay’s mother Margaret are both fun characters. I also find it endearing that this book has a newspaper article dedicated to it, published April 10, 1955!!! My friend @waleweinn was able to get it for me. Check it out!

[thevikingwoman]

FFXIVWrite2024 - Prompt 16

Fortemps household dynamics fascinate me endlessly, so here is some barely grown-up Artoriel POV

Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV | Words: 359

Artoriel de Fortemps | pre-ARR Rating: Teen. Character study, Ishgard society, Fortemps family, mention of infidelity (canonical), why is Artoriel the way he is? vague heavenwards spoilers

Third-rate

Artoriel de Fortemps doesn’t stop when he sees his little brother run past him, bloody nose and tears streaking down his face. He merely gets out of the way. Emmanellain doesn’t see him, his eyes on the ground as he rushes by. Probably running off to nanny, though he is far too big for that. Artoriel sneers, unbiddenly, and continues around the corner.

“Some third-rate knight he’ll be.”

“Third son, too.”

“More worthless than a bastard.”

This makes Atoriel pause. The statement is followed by raucous laughter. It would be unseemly to get in a fight over Haurchefant.

“Well, Haurchefant is a fine fellow.”

“For a bastard, aye.”

Someone snorts. “Don’t say that to his face. He trounced Delicrouxeus the other day. Mark my word, Count Fortemps will give him command of something.”

“Emond can’t even command his own dick.”

More laughter. Atoriel’s ears burn. He bites his cheek. He cannot be unseemly. He needs to be above reproach. The Fury knows his brother isn’t going to be.

“Mayhap little Emmanellain is Halone’s punishment? A hapless idiot of a son.”

“Bet ol’ Edmont would have been happy with even another stick in the mud like Atoriel rather than Emmanellain.”

“If he kept himself true, he’d mayhap had a brave and personable trueborn son. They’d all be a third-rate House this way.”

His clenched fist hit the wall. Atoriel bites his cheek to keep from crying out. He cannot. His growth spurt done, he’d hardly get any taller, but he cannot take on three squires. He mustn’t.

“Kept himself pure – Haviellemont, you better learn that. I saw you with that wench in the Brume but two days ago.”

“And what were you doing there?”

The voices fade as Artoriel hurries away. He does not run. He is not his little brother. If only Emmanellain behaved proper, there would be no doubt about the honor of their house. He brings shame on them all. Artoriel reaches the fresh, crisp air. He cannot help his little brother’s follies. He simply must be a better example. Above reproach, the perfect heir. Father needs neither Haurchefant nor Emmanellain as long as Artoriel is peerless.

[acerathia]

pink camellias || Chapter 2: geranium

Chapter Summary:

geranium: folly

Wordcount: 3.8k

Read on AO3 || Masterlist

Pairing:

Bakugou Katsuki / Reader

Tags/CW:

royalty au, inspired by Mulan, war and its consequences, violence, childhood friends to strangers to companions to lovers (i am sorry), Angst, Acts of Service, Character Death (Major, and Minor), swordfights, misogyny, f!reader, kidnapping, implied torture, let me know if I missed anything lol

Note:

second chapter, yippie!! going to post this story every second monday, soo 👀👀

Swords clashed and slashed. Tiny bursts of stars seemed to be drawn from every swing and hit. The two opponents acted as if they’ve been at if for hours, but it only has been a matter of a handful of minutes. Every single grain of time held close and dear to their movements, as time could help them achieve their desired victory.

The untrained eye didn’t have the capacity to recognize any disadvantage between them, thus leading to the surprise of the tiny crowd when one sword finally shook and linked its blade with the guard cross of its opposing blade, tossing it into the entirely wrong direction, upwards and pointing to the clouds above. The wielder of that particular blade didn’t even think of pointing the tip of their sword towards the one who lost, as their loss was deemed irrefutable.

A moment of silence, only disturbed by the sheathing of the sword, before a praising clap thundered across the sand, over the heavy gasps of breath. Despite that loss, there was no guilt or thoughts of vengeance, on the contrary, their smiles mirroring each other, one much older and wiser, the other winning and crooked.

“It seems the student has outgrown their master, congratulations. With this battle and its win, you officially hold the title of a swordmaster”, the loser, the now-retired teacher announced with happiness tinting his voice despite the glaring loss against someone younger than him, someone like you.

This act of kindness was not usual, it took you slightly aback. The knights and squires of this court tended to sneer behind your back, never to your face, challenging you properly like they were supposed to do. They would not dare to fulfil such an outrageous act, not against the only lady of this household. The heir of this marquisate. Consequently, you weren’t allowed to act on your urges. Because every time you noticed their laughter and their mock, your veins flooded with hot steam, and the desire to punch them grew. But alas, it was improper of a lady to even raise her hand, much less a sword, despite your current disposition. You were allowed to hold a sword, but never to raise it against someone outside of training. And this newly acquired title would not change anything about this circumstance.

This led to you putting all your anger and frustration into working on yourself, working towards your current objective. This first hurdle, the just gained knighthood, had been the fruit of the hard labor of months; your hands aching and ripping skin. But now you could work towards the higher ranks. Even if you didn’t quite know how to achieve that, due to the likely refusal of many, simply not even taking it into consideration to take you under their wing, to train you in any way or form. In their opinion, all your hard work was nothing but a joke. A female knight? Bordering on a scandal, about to escalate if you even dared to carry your title outside of this tiny place. That meant you were stuck, this position signifying your first and yet last step into the higher achievements of a knight. A swordmaster with no real power to the name.

At least with this title, you had something to show for yourself, your work and your training were not in vain, despite what everyone might say, despite the possibility of it being the last you could even achieve in the first place.

So you couldn’t help the grin stretching across your face as you dabbed the sweat off your eyebrows and neck. You ought to take a proper bath as soon as you were dismissed by your now-retired teacher. But he hesitated. He had been happy by your victory, but something seemed to lay heavy on his might, indicated by the slight furrow of his eyebrows. That was the reason you were aware that something was about to come, something that would displease you, especially after he started a light conversation with you, something he usually avoided so vehemently.

How did you feel? Any tiredness, pain? With every topic, every question or simple conversation starter the talk slowly descended to the more serious matters, at least in his opinion, as he tried his best to ease you into them. What were you planning now? What was your father thinking? Did he even agree with your plans, and was he going to offer you a position in his own army?

And at the beginning you were patient, answering everything truthfully to the best of your possibilities. But the audacious mention of your father made your insides boil, steam filling your lungs and threatening to burn him with your tongue as the lighter.

With a slow inhale you stuck your tongue against the inside of your cheek, trying to dampen the fire sizzling between its pores. You managed not to snap or tell him off in any way, rather smiling and cutting the conversation short, because oh, it was almost time for dinner and your father was awaiting your presence at the table.

With that excuse you didn’t even wait for his dismissal, you just left him on the training grounds, trying to get some proper words in order, but you were already marching with sure steps towards your room, taking several steps at once. You were absolutely ready for a mighty scrubbing.

But on the way you couldn’t do anything but stop in front of another door. The office. Surely your father was inside, swamped in his work once again, and you thought about how it had been some time since you had visited him or seen him outside of your shared meals. He surely wouldn’t mind you entering wearing your current garb.

Your knuckles against the wood, light seeping through a gap, carrying the ongoing conversation, and your movements halted.

“Yes, I am sure. I shall join the assembly tomorrow…” the voice of your father echoed to your position, to your eavesdropping. And you were aware of the butler responding, yet could not discern his words properly.

“I know, but… ugh… they sent for someone from every family. There is no one but me, who can carry the burden of fighting in such a senseless war… no, she’s my only daughter, it would kill me to lose her in such a needless endeavor…” A sigh had escaped your father, showing you how he surrendered to his fate.

His words would usually flare the fire in the back of your throat, daring you to step in and to confront whatever decision had been made on your behalf. Yet the realization of the ongoing topic felt like a fall, harsh and sudden, and your insides hurt, nauseating you. A call for war. Was it truly a necessity for your father to go? Surely there was another way, some kind of connection to avoid this misfortune befalling your family. You couldn’t…

Before you even dared to finish this thought, steps slowly approach your tiny gate between worlds, and you had to get on your toes, to be nimble to escape from this compromising situations, lest the butler caught and reprimanded you. You had no other choice but to flee, despite your initial plan to visit your father for a piece of his time.

For the rest of the way to your bedroom, a dizzy spell had started to occupy your brain, depositing a formation of rocks upon your chest, constricting your limbs, suffocating you. What were you supposed to do now? After this unintended revelation? You could not bear to lose your father too. But did you even have a choice? Your possibilities were as limited as the cords binding your hands, restricting every idea.

Arriving to your destination you swallowed heavely, trying to get rid of the boulders blocking your airways. You simply didn’t allow yourself to show your swirling, conflicting feelings, rather you put the same little grin on your face, even if it felt a bit strained. Your maid should not suspect anything to be wrong, or she would forward her worries to the lord of the place, your father, and you should not burden him more than he already had to carry.

Acting the same, trying to hide the trembles in your fingertips and the pitch in your voice, you took a bath, as usual, as expected of you. And you tried to distract yourself by rubbing your skin raw, getting rid of grime and sweat, the heavy guilt and regret.

As much as you loved to swing the sword, the consequences of such were rather tiring, hard to get rid of in varying levels. A necessary evil maybe.

After drying your skin, you allowed your maid to slip a simple, green housedress over your head, preparing you for your venture to the dining hall

The hall itself had changed quite a bit in the last years, the memories painful, burdening your soul with a longing ache. The stinging arrangements got replaced, finding a new home in a storage room, collecting dust and drying up, taking the memories with them, but never the pain. It stayed a constant companion, and what kind of host would deny its guest, albeit forced.

So you had no other choice but take your seat with the usual greetings towards your father, and you both began to maintain some easy talk, something that could be done without much thought if you were versed in the court etiquette.

That was until the subject of your newly acquired knighthood was mentioned. He, of course, congratulated you, but the question about your future plans did not even come up in the first place. Almost like he assumed this whole thing was finally over, that he could keep you safe, maybe even arrange someone to marry you, to be an actual heir to the title. Someone to take care of you while he had decided to join some nonsense war.

Naturally this thought train of yours stayed in your brain, and you refused to give him the chance to even begin with his ideas, even if they weren’t quite there yet. Still, he did not even dare to start explaining his conundrum to you. Maybe he thought it would be better for you to stay ignorant? To notice him being gone, to belatedly read a letter with the scrawly letters telling you his excuses. To him, that also would be protecting you, but this simple idea of him risking his life, of omitting important details bothered you. This silent refusal only fueled you more, a plan starting to weave itself onto your consciousness, more holes than knots, but you decided to overlook that fact.

After finishing your meal, you excused yourself. As soon as you stepped out of his view, your steps sped up, bringing you to your room. Arriving you quickly dismissed your maid, before crawling to grab something from under your bed.

Barely grasping the fabric you plucked a jute bag from the hidden cave that is the space between your bed and the ground. A bit of dust had settled on top of it and you had to shake it off with a sneeze. Maybe you should have looked for a better hiding place, but that was a thought for the possible, rather impossible, next time.

With barely contained thoughts you started pushing some of your fencing garb into the bag. Almost worn-out pants and shirts. Some bandages. Gauze and disinfectant, for some first aid. Some money and a map. After a couple of everything, you decided to be content with your small luggage. Your sword would be attached to your strap, ready to be used at all times.

The only thing missing was the letter with the official stamp. You needed it, lest they thought of you as a liar. Fortunately, you knew when your father was supposed to leave his office, so you put on some proper traveling clothes, meaning a pair of pants and a shirt, to make it easier for you to sneak into the halls without any noise. And if you managed to get caught, you always had the possibility of using your training as an excuse.

Once the clock has struck, you left your room to stride slowly to your fathers office. In front of its door, you bowed slightly to check for any lights coming from the keyhole, before opening the door a crack, just until it was about to creak. Of course you knew about that secret threshold, you have been living in this place for years. Even considering the whole possessing the body of another problem. You quickly slid between that just-right-sized opening into the office.

You didn’t allow yourself to look around, to look at the shelves cram-full with books or the paintings on every free space on the walls. Rather you carefully stepped around the papers strewn around on the ground, careful to not bother anything that could incriminate you, well more than you were guilty of at the moment.

His working table seemed to contain more documents than possible, stacked on top of each other and dangerously leaning over the edge. You bit your lips in thought, where would such a document belong? Despite your knowledge, you never understood that orderly chaos of his. So you decided to look into the drawers first, inspecting their contents, but not finding what you were looking for.

After having carved into the depths of those drawers, you carefully looked over the papers on top of the table. At first you didn’t dare touch anything, of fear of toppling anything over, of fear of being discovered before you accomplished your goal. But after not seeing the document you began to leaf slowly through every stack of documents and letters. Still nothing. With a resigning sigh, you stepped away. Maybe he had taken that piece of paper into his room, for safekeeping perhaps.

With some remaining hope you let your gaze wander across the table once again. Suddenly something bright orange caught your eyes. You knew it didn’t belong there, wasn’t supposed to be here at all, after orange was the official color of the royal family, only their letters and decrees had an orange seal. That was why you realized that you actually found what you were looking for. The letter had been pinched underneath the paperweight, which your father usually never used.

Consequently you could easily lift that paperweight shaped like a bird, because it just didn’t disturb anything around it. Once the letter laid in your hand, you carefully opened it and skimmed through its content to confirm the identity of the letter.

A lopsided grin broke itself across your face while you pocketed the letter with soft movements. After reaching your goal, you went through the same steps again, only in reverse order to leave the room.

Once in your room, you stashed the letter into your bag, before throwing it over your shoulder. Almost forgetting to put a letter on your pillow for your maid to discover the next morning. You still had to make a trip into the kitchen for some food for the oncoming travels. So you walked down the halls until you arrived in front of the passage for the servants. These secret corridors led to every place a servant could be needed, of course the kitchen was one of these places. And you knew that unless they were a guard, most servants were already asleep. For this reason you could just walk into the kitchen and take some pieces of bread and an apple. Why an apple? You just craved one at the moment.

After filling your bag with your acquired loot, you left the mansion through the servants entrance. These things were neat, you thought, making it easier to sneak around. Which in hindsight was a strategic disadvantage, but all mansions were built like that. You supposed the wall and the many guards outside were a proper defense, at least for some direct attacks. Assassination and infiltration? Definitely the weak point of many nobles.

Deep in thought you stopped in front of the wall. Of course you weren’t going to take the main entrance, your sneaking would be null and void if you got caught just walking out in the deep of the night. That was why you were looking for that one hole in the wall, hidden by some bushes. The knights and squires probably used that hole to escape training and to get drunk at the village. But their foolery had bought you a rather great advantage. This way you had the possibility to just escape the grounds without notifying anyone.

There! You spotted the crack in the massive wall and after pushing some leaves away you could gaze into the other side of the barrier. You got on all fours to crawl through the small gap. The passage was almost too tight to properly let you through, but with a bit of wiggling you managed to tumble out of the hole.

With a triumphant grin you jumped onto your feet, before walking down the road in direction of the next village. You didn’t need your map yet, but you knew that you had to acquire a proper horse to travel, or else you would need days to arrive. With a horse it would only take you a day and a night.

First, you needed to arrive at the village in the first place. Which shouldn’t be a hindrance, but after quite some distance, you began to regret your decision to start your barely-planned adventure once the dark swallowed everything in front of you. You couldn’t have carried a torch with you either way, but you dearly wished for one. Nonetheless you kept on walking on the path through the forest, not leaving your gaze lingering, lest you begin to think of horrid creatures hiding and reaching for you.

No wonder your muscles released some considerable tension, once the lights of the village seeped through the woods. Finally stepping over the invisible border between forest and village, you quickly glanced around to locate someone who would sell you a horse. And even if the streets were supposed to be empty, quite a crowd was still bustling around. Seemed like some kind of festival, you thought to yourself before diving into the bustle.

It had taken you quite some searching and haggling to acquire that beautiful white stallion, on which you were currently riding on. Maybe you should have bought more money on your person, but despite the hole in your funds you couldn’t seem to feel any regret. Especially after traveling with him for the last day and a half. He was, in your humble opinion, the calmest horse you ever had the chance to encounter.

With a comfortable trot you both were heading towards the borders of the country, close to the war, but far enough to have space to train in. Probably. Everything was just an assumption, while you studied the map of your destination. With that, they probably also assumed that everyone, who was sent by their family, would have the proper education about fighting in a war. Maybe they were just going to push a sword into their hands and use them as cannon fodder. In your opinion, it depended on the oncoming personnel. But you, you were determined to survive and maybe to even make a proper name for yourself. Despite your ambitions, you were aware of the conditions, war was a messy thing, and nothing, truly nothing, could promise a proper hold onto your life.

A hum escaped you, as you considered taking a rest. But before you had the possibility to choose, your gaze caught onto something further along the way. So you pushed your horse to go a tiny bit faster to assess whatever was in front of you. After a couple of minutes you slowly came to a halt, stopping fully in front of a wooden gate with a pair of guards. Ah, you had to have arrived already.

With a swing you descended from the black stallion, rummaging for the letter of recommendation that was issued to your family, and of course something to prove your identity with, even if the letter in itself should have been more than enough.

You showed both things to the guard, who had a condescending smirk while checking the content of the letter, before handing it back to you and opening the gate. Stowing the papers back into your bag, you took the horse strap and led your dear horse through the gate.

“Hah, you’re probably gonna do anything but fight.”, a guard snickered haughtily, letting his gaze wander over your pants.

Without second thought you pulled your sword and let the tip scratch his throat. Your face twisted in disgust. “I could just get rid of you, here and now… don’t test me, rat.”

You felt the need to spit at his feet, but you thought that he was already humiliated, so you just continued your walk through the gate. Your trusty sword returned to its home, while bringing your horse to the stable.

Taking care of your stallion you hoped, no one else reacted like that guard did. You’d hate to deal with condescending people, who thought they were better than everyone, especially you. But whatever happened, you were confident in your abilities to best them all. After all, most of them were nothing more than spoiled noble kids, with no experience in any kind of combat. You would bet the rest of your money, you could break the noses of at least half of the recruitments here.

With a content nod, you led Noir, as you decided to call the black stallion, to some proper resting space. He had been carrying you for quite some time after all. After making sure he was all set up, you went looking for whatever place you were supposed to register your arrival at.

With a sigh you settled on your assigned bed. Even if your definition of bed and mattresses were quite different, you didn’t even think of complaining, some already didn’t take you seriously. Even the person who had shown you your new place had their nose slightly wrinkled and had pulled their eyebrows up, once they glanced at you. But you didn’t mind, because you were sure of your abilities, you would surprise them and make them eat their words. And their contempt and whispers held nothing to the royal court and the gossip at festivities. You would survive this.

You had planned on resting for today, but you felt quite fidgety. Usually you would have wound up outside to train with your sword, but alas, you couldn’t pull that string in such a new place. Which sucked, especially because you had to adapt to whatever expectations and rules existed.

Without any other option you closed your eyes and tried to delve into other thoughts, maybe put some more detail in your current story, and if you fell asleep, no one would be wiser.

[myemuisemo]

Doyle makes the kind of mistake that faithful readers send letters about in chapter IV of The Valley of Fear, the most recent Letters from Watson in my in-box.

At the end of the chapter, the big news is that a bicycle has been found that might belong to the killer.

It was a well used Rudge-Whitworth, splashed as from a considerable journey. There was a saddlebag with spanner and oilcan, but no clue as to the owner.

Rudge-Whitworth was a real brand... that originated from a merger in 1894. In the late 1880s, the cycle would have been a Rudge or a Whitworth, but not both. My sympathy is completely with Doyle on this one, as I've been trying just this past week to reconcile memories of the early/mid-1990s with verifiable dates of historic events.

As far as the Pennsylvania Small Arms Company, consensus is that it's fictional.

Meanwhile, I was distracted by the description of the murder mansion as Jacobean (1603-1714) and started wondering if the American victim actually lived in a 200-year-old home -- or in a newer exurban build in a revival style.

There was a Jacobean Revival in the UK (spreading to the US, Canada, and other former and then-current British possessions), starting around 1830! It continued all the way into the 1920s, which is why there are so many official buildings with liver-colored or yellow brick, big flat front gables, and those nice many-paned sets of windows.

Since I'm having to squint to read the text in the helpful handout, above, from Old Home Living, I'll summarize:

Stone or brick

Cement window trim and casement windows

Steep roofs finished with slate

Prominent chimneys

Often semi-hexagonal bays with parapets

The Jacobean Revival style (now often called Jacobethan, since it has merged with Elizabethan/Tudor Revival) hearkened to an ideal of Merrie Olde England, with everyone wearing ruffs, eating roast beast, and watching Shakespeare plays.

If you check RightMove in East Grinstead, there are new homes being built with Jacobethan facades even now.

The presence of a moat says nothing for the murder mansion's authenticity, since follies like moats were exactly what wealthy exurbanites would adore. So my headcanon for the moment is that our victim is a wealthy American parvenue who wants to play country squire but positively has no roots in that world.

Perhaps next time, we shall learn what Holmes' "gleam of light" in this case might be. Since all the assorted detectives and doctors are discoursing with supreme rationality, I believe everyone, and they're likely all wrong.

[kvetchlandia]

Bill Brandt     Poet Dylan Thomas at the Salisbury Pub, London     1941

I

I see the boys of summer in their ruin Lay the gold tithings barren, Setting no store by harvest, freeze the soils; There in their heat the winter floods Of frozen loves they fetch their girls, And drown the cargoed apples in their tides.

These boys of light are curdlers in their folly, Sour the boiling honey; The jacks of frost they finger in the hives; There in the sun the frigid threads Of doubt and dark they feed their nerves; The signal moon is zero in their voids.

I see the summer children in their mothers Split up the brawned womb's weathers, Divide the night and day with fairy thumbs; There in the deep with quartered shades Of sun and moon they paint their dams As sunlight paints the shelling of their heads.

I see that from these boys shall men of nothing Stature by seedy shifting, Or lame the air with leaping from its heats; There from their hearts the dogdayed pulse Of love and light bursts in their throats. O see the pulse of summer in the ice. II

But seasons must be challenged or they totter Into a chiming quarter Where, punctual as death, we ring the stars; There, in his night, the black-tongued bells The sleepy man of winter pulls, Nor blows back moon-and-midnight as she blows.

We are the dark derniers let us summon Death from a summer woman, A muscling life from lovers in their cramp From the fair dead who flush the sea The bright-eyed worm on Davy's lamp And from the planted womb the man of straw.

We summer boys in this four-winded spinning, Green of the seaweeds' iron, Hold up the noisy sea and drop her birds, Pick the world's ball of wave and froth To choke the deserts with her tides, And comb the county gardens for a wreath.

In spring we cross our foreheads with the holly, Heigh ho the blood and berry, And nail the merry squires to the trees; Here love's damp muscle dries and dies Here break a kiss in no love's quarry, O see the poles of promise in the boys. III

I see you boys of summer in your ruin. Man in his maggot's barren. And boys are full and foreign to the pouch. I am the man your father was. We are the sons of flint and pitch. O see the poles are kissing as they cross.

-- Dylan Thomas, “I See the Boys of Summer”  1934

[promptthebear]

Kissmass Day 1

Prompt: A breathy demand: “Kiss me” - and what the other person does to respond.

Pairing: Tyrion Lannister x Reader

“Kiss me.”

Tyrion took one look at your face, with your closed eyes, flushed cheeks and puckered lips, and burst into laughter.

“That’s it.” he said, still breathless from mirth,”You’ve officially had too much to drink.”

Your eyes flew open, just in time to snatch your bottle of Arbor red away before Tyrion could take it from you. Going to investigate the new wine shipment had been your idea, stealing a bottle each and sneaking off to drink them in the comfort of your chambers had been his.

“I’m serious.” you replied, hoping you didn’t sound too petulant “I want you to kiss me.”

Tyrion, your best friend since childhood and the only reason you hadn’t burned this stinking city to the ground, looked at you as though you had gone as mad as old Aerys himself.

“But…why?” he finally asked, more than a little incredulous.

Because I love you.

You all but clapped a hand over your mouth, lest your wayward thoughts escape by their own volition. If Tyrion suspected such folly had begun to fill your mind, he showed no signs of suspicion. The only change in his face was the slight arch of his brow, something you knew meant he was getting impatient.

“I’ve never kissed anyone before,” you blurted, not wanting to give your friend a chance to ponder the matter further. “And I’d rather like to have a chance to try before my father marries me off.”

That wasn’t a total lie. Yes, you had played at kissing with the squires and stableboys when you’d been only a slip of a girl, but that hardly counted. There had been more chasing and giggling than kissing, nothing like the sort of thing you’d read about in those saucy novels your mother hid away. And certainly nothing like you’d heard Tyrion discuss with Jamie when they thought you weren’t listening.

“I suppose you’ve asked me due to my breadth of experience, hmm?” Tyrion replied, taking a sip of his wine. He was by no means drunk enough for this particular conversation, but that could be quickly remedied.

“No.” you said, mirroring Tyrion’s actions and sipping your own drink “If that was all that mattered, then I would’ve asked your brother. I want it to be you. Because you’re my friend, the only one I have in this shithole.”

A moment went by, then another. It could not have been more than a few seconds at most, but it felt like entire seasons to you. Whether Tyrion noticed an eternity passing, you could not say. He seemed to have went somewhere that had nothing to do with either you or King’s landing, if the far off look in his eyes was anything to go by.

For an instant, you wondered if he had gone back to that week he’d spent away, years ago, that week he wouldn’t speak of no matter how much you had begged. Something about that week had changed him, he’d come back to you older and sadder than the Tyrion you remembered.

“Alright.” he said, finally, startling you from your own reverie “Though I will warn you, kissing me will only ruin you for other men. Dwarves have incredibly soft lips, you know”

You giggled, happy to see some of his usual humour returning. “I suppose that’s a chance I’ll have to take.”

“Close your eyes then.”

You felt the mattress shift beneath you as Tyrion moved closer, accompanied by the smell of wine and cloves on his breath. You sat, still as a statue and tighter than a freshly strung bow. What if you made a fool of yourself? What if Tyrion came to despise you after this? Was this really just a drunken fancy? Could you really be throwing away your dearest friend because the wine had gone to your h-

Oh.

First, there was a tingling sensation that went across your cheeks, down your spine, and set your heart fluttering. Then, you felt your breath catch, and for a moment you thought you may just faint. But that was nothing compared to the sheer, molten heat of Tyrion’s lips against yours. It radiated, like a fire in the dead of winter, and nothing you had read or heard could have ever truly prepared you for this feeling.

And then, as quickly as it happened, it was over. You opened your eyes, and were surprised to find Tyrion’s face still only a few inches from yours. You resisted the temptation to reach up and brush an errant, blonde curl from his eyes. The air around you felt heavy all of a sudden, burdened with the weight of what had just passed between you.

“How was it?” Tyrion asked, breaking the silence though his voice was barely more than a whisper

“Nice. Really nice, actually.” you replied, with a little smile “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. If you ever want to practice some more, you know where to find me.”

[burlveneer-music]

D Rothon - Lonesome Echoes (Awful Lonesome edition) - expanded download edition of his Clay Pipe 3" CD release

The origins of its name lost in the mists of time, the village of Lonesome emerged in the 19th century from the swampy, isolated lands between Streatham Vale and Mitcham Common. By the early 1900s intrepid reporters were already speculating on whether the place was mere myth. The intervening years saw the rapid rise and fall of Lonesome. Its prospects as a desirable place to live were compromised by the combined fragrances of piggeries plus chemical, fireworks and gas mantle factories – which would undoubtedly have overpowered the sweeter aromas from the nearby lavender fields of Mitcham. It also gained a reputation as a haunt of footpads, vagabonds and cutpurses. A failed development by one “Squire Blake” of aspirational middle class villas – which became known as Blake's Folly – helped cement Lonesome’s reputation as a ghost town. Now long subsumed into suburbia, aside from the odd street and building name little trace remains of Lonesome. Tracks 2, 6, 8 and 10 were issued as an EP by Clay Pipe Music. The remaining tracks are also taken from the Lonesome-inspired sessions. David Rothon: Omnichord, pedal steel, theremin, keyboards, Bentley Rhythm Ace, digital drum programming, acoustic, electric, baritone and bass guitars, Stylophone, percussion, Indian harmonium, harmonica, melodica, banjo Special thanks to… Ed Deegan: drums on tracks 3 and 6 Johanna Warren: flute on tracks 8 and 9 Artwork by Frances Castle (as featured on the original Lonesome Echoes CD)

[horizon-verizon]

Aemond “It [Aegon II’s crown] looks better on me than it ever did on him” and “had no wish to share the glory with his brothers.”

Daemon “knelt before his brother and offered up his crown as a token of his love and fealty.”

I saw this in a Twitter post. The post specifically noted how though Daemon knew Viserys was too lenient for the sake of people's admiration or approval, he still gave up the Stepstone crown. While with how extremely obvious it is that Aegon the Elder was unfit for any level of leadership, it is his brother Aemond who is the likelier relative of a king tries to usurp him. As Daemon was accused by Otto, some fans, and some unnamed in-text persons in court.

Here is the quote about Daemon at the tourney where he does that ("A Question of Succession"):

Yet one was there who wore neither green nor black, but rather gold and silver. Prince Daemon had at last returned to court. Wearing a crown and styling himself King of the Narrow Sea, he appeared unannounced in the skies above King’s Landing on his dragon, circling thrice above the tourney grounds…but when at last he came to earth, he knelt before his brother and offered up his crown as a token of his love and fealty. Viserys returned the crown and kissed Daemon on both cheeks, welcoming him home, and the lords and commons sent up a thunderous cheer as the sons of the Spring Prince were reconciled. Amongst those cheering loudest was Princess Rhaenyra, who was thrilled at the return of her favorite uncle and begged him to stay awhile.

The quote about Aemond not wanting to share the glory reads ("The Red Dragon and the Gold"):

Not all the members of the green council favored the prince’s bold stroke. Aemond had the support of Ser Criston Cole, the Hand, and that of Ser Tyland Lannister, but Grand Maester Orwyle urged him to send word to Storm’s End and add the power of House Baratheon to his own before proceeding, and Ironrod, Lord Jasper Wylde, declared that he should summon Lord Hightower and Prince Daeron from the south, on the grounds that “two dragons are better than one.” The Queen Dowager favored caution as well, urging her son to wait until his brother the king and his dragon, Sunfyre the Golden, were healed, so they might join the attack. Prince Aemond had no taste for such delays, however. He had no need of his brothers or their dragons, he declared; Aegon was too badly hurt, Daeron too young. Aye, Caraxes was a fearsome beast, savage and cunning and battle-tested…but Vhagar was older, fiercer, and twice as large. Septon Eustace tells us that the Kinslayer was determined that this should be his victory; he had no wish to share the glory with his brothers, nor any other man.

Especially how Aemond wouldn't even go along with Criston Cole's plan of joining Daeron down south with the Hightower forces, specifically saying he wanted to gain and keep whatever military glory he could get to himself and prioritizing that over actually winning for the green cause, for his brother to sit the throne easy ("Rhaenyra Triumphant"):

The loss of King’s Landing and the Iron Throne had enraged him, and when word of the Fishfeed reached Harrenhal, the Lord Protector had almost strangled the squire who delivered the news. Only the intercession of his bedmate Alys Rivers had saved the boy’s life. Prince Aemond favored an immediate attack upon King’s Landing. None of the queen’s dragons were a match for Vhagar, he insisted. Ser Criston called that folly. “One against six is a fight for fools, My Prince,” he declared. Let them march south, he urged once more, and join their strength to Lord Hightower’s. Prince Aemond could reunite with his brother Daeron and his dragon. King Aegon had escaped Rhaenyra’s grasp, this they knew, surely he would reclaim Sunfyre and join his brothers. And perhaps their friends inside the city might find a way to free Queen Helaena as well, so she could bring Dreamfyre to the battle. Four dragons could perhaps prevail against six, if one was Vhagar. Prince Aemond refused to consider this “craven course.”

Aemond always looked for number one even in crises.

Daemon giving up the Stepstones crown allowed him to come back to court to get closer to Rhaenyra and possibly to keep an eye on Otto for Viserys/the dynasty. It broadcasted his loyalty to Viserys at a moment where it was publicly called into question with his being named as the Stepstones' "king" (a too-close competitor). I think it also freed him somewhat from a responsibility to keep the corsairs and pirates and Triarchy out of the said region that is not even that habitable, at least he could claim as such. Daemon was not only looking at a longer game, but I also think he was trying to get his way back in out of loneliness.

[biboocat]

Wives and Daughters by Elizabeth Gaskell. 1864-1866. The author’s final novel is a domestic tale that focuses on two young women, Molly Gibson and Cynthia Kirkpatrick who became sisters through the marriage of Molly’s widower father, Mr. Gibson and Cynthia’s widowed mother, Clare Kirkpatrick. Their differences quickly become evident: the ingenuous and loyal Molly and the beautiful and artful Cynthia. Mr. Gibson’s medical duties provide a social connection between his family and the upper class families, the Hamleys and the Cumnors. The plot is too involved to go into specifics, but story speaks to the importance of class, the maintenance of social propriety and reputation, and marriage in early 19th century England. I felt that the narrative drive was slow in first half of the book, but the second half gains great momentum, so don’t give up! The story is generally serious, but the shallow, self-centered Mrs. Gibson is comical, and there are a few laugh out loud moments with Lord and Countess Cumnor. Molly Gibson and Mr. Gibson are so good, and the intrepid Lady Harriet is delightful. Elizabeth Gaskell treats the upper class fairly, showing both their snobbery and how they can adapt to circumstances for good. I so admire Elizabeth Gaskell’s wisdom and compassion. She died suddenly before finishing the novel, but I think we can safely predict how the story would have concluded. I recommend Wives and Daughters.

P.S. I see that Rosamund Pike was cast as Lady Harriet in the 1999 television series. I haven’t seen it, but I imagine she would be good in the role.

Memorable quotes:

“But sometimes one likes foolish people for their folly, better than wise people for their wisdom.”

Plot synopsis:

Cynthia becomes engaged to Roger Hamley who goes to Africa on a scientific expedition

In Cynthia’s past she had taken money from Mr. Preston and she promised to marry him in return. She gets out of with Molly’s help, but busybodies misinterpreted as an illicit affair between Molly & Preston by townspeople who spread gossip.

Lady Harriet gets to the bottom of it in a memorable scene with Preston. Eventually Molly is vindicated.

Cynthia spends time with Mrs. Gibson’s brother in London where she flirts with Mr. Henderson.

When confronted Cynthia is indignant and decides to break off her engagement to Roger. She eventually becomes engaged to Henderson.

Suddenly Osborne dies. Molly and her father help Squire Hamley to cope and inform him that Osborne was married to a French Catholic who was a servant and has a son. The wife, Aimee and son appear at Hamley Hall, and Molly and Mr. Gibson help them adjust to their new surroundings. Initially the Squire wanted to keep the child and send Aimee back to France. Later the boy suffered a health scare and the Squire and Aimee bonded over the experience. He later gave her and the boy a cottage to live in near the Hall.

Roger returns to England, and he becomes attracted to Molly. She hesitates thinking it would be improper after his recent rejection by Cynthia. He must return to Africa so their courting is put on hold. He cannot meet Molly because of his exposure to the sick boy, but he stops by the Gibson’s house, and he and Molly see one another from a distance and know that they will see each other one day.

[readingrobin]

(June 10th - June 16th)

Thanks to my work's very competitive summer reading challenge, I've managed to get a lot read over the past week. I feel like I've gotten over the poor string of books I was reading last month and finally had some decent ones in succession. Figuring out how to balance two jobs has been a hassle, but one I was expecting. I think I've finally gotten it all managed, at least for this and next month, but we'll see how it turns out. It looks like I'll be running the monthly Anime Club, so it looks like my high school nerd status has come full circle.

Books Read:

The Secrets of Chocolate: A Gourmand's Trip Through a Top Chef's Atelier by Franckie Alarcon (2.5/5)

Squire and Knight, Vol. 1 by Scott Chantler (4/5)

Spindle’s End by Robin McKinley (4/5)

Violet and Jobie in the Wild by Lynne Rae Perkins (3/5)

Burning Down the Haus: Punk Rock, Revolution, and the Fall of the Berlin Wall by Tim Mohr (3/5)

Books Currently Reading:

Spider-Verse by Dan Slott (23% done)

The Dead Romantics by Ashley Poston (77% done)

The Sandman: Act III by Neil Gaiman (61% done)

Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants by Robin Wall Kimmerer (45% done)

Les Misérables by Victor Hugo (44% done)

Books to Read Next:

Firekeeper's Daughter by Angeline Boulley

Mortal Follies by Alexis Hall