#vesper exclusive

[defiedfate]

like for something from Vesper.

[cityandking]

Dragon Age World State

with all the veilguard news, I've been thinking about my canon dragon age world state. mostly what I've decided is that it's damn hard to pick a canon and stick to it when there are so many exciting options and opportunities out there, but I think I've narrowed it down to these three. they're a fun mix of pragmatism, hope and regret, and I'm really looking forward to how their choices might impact veilguard!

bonus: my alternate inquisitor option, proud and prickly rani who takes no shit and is fed up with saving the world (but she'll do it anyway)

[template | picrew]

[unfinishedrambles-art]

wanna make it a yearly tradition to start the year with a meet the artist, so hello tumblr!

[rex101111]

Elden Ring, Armored Core 6, and the terror of Agency.

(spoilers for AC6)

Armored Core 6 being the first game FromSoft released after Elden Ring is actually really freaking interesting, specifically because both games tackle the topic of "Agency" from two completely different perspectives.

In Elden Ring, Agency is (mostly) mechanical, the player can, from the word go, provided they don't die, choose any direction at all and do whatever they want for as long as they want. The game has the largest amount of ending of any Souls game if we take into account all the Lord ending variants, because the player can effect the world so deeply in so many ways. You can reach the end in any number of ways and the ending you get tends to be entirely up to you, and every ending is unique to itself.

In AC6, the agency is more felt in the story. That is to say, you don't have any agency at all. 621, Raven, your player character, doesn't have any sort of autonomy whatsoever. They don't get to choose which side they want to exclusively support on Rubicon, they can't choose to express any opinion about what's going on or what people say about them, they don't even have any bodily autonomy. You're a husk of a human being that can barely manage to breath in and out without external help, your mech is a glorified wheelchair iron lung combo with guns attached, and the most agency you have is with your AC. What weapons to bring, what build to make...but even that is fleeting.

Some people have complained that some bosses are damn near impossible without a certain and specific build. While I disagree, certain builds make those bosses significantly easier, but mechanical skill tends to make up for most shortcomings if you wanna stick to something specific...but there's some truth to it.

Sometimes the game will just hold your head down in the mud and say "do this or die". And unless you want to put in a lot of practice...that's what you'll do. You'll give up what little agency you have because it suddenly became the less important factor. Now you're focused on killing the bastard holding you back and moving on. The mission is what's important.

There are several times in your first playthrough where you get to "choose" which mission you wanna do, the other option vanishing until you do a new game+. One mission really deep into the playthrough, a few missions before the end, gives you the option of choosing which of the game long factions you wanna support. In any other game, this would be story shifting. It would be world altering. Deciding which faction gets the upper hand in a war...and it's an illusion.

In the briefing for eliminating the Redguns, Snail tells you plainly that if you won't do it, they'll just send Rusty in to take care of things. And if you do choose to fight the Vespers, that's exactly what happens. No matter what you did, the Redguns were doomed. The only agency you had was whether the bullet that killed them came out of your gun or someone elses.

Then, at the end of chapter 4, you get captured, and what little agency you had is utterly stripped away from you. You are in a hopeless situation, without access to the mech you put so much time and money into, or the guiding voice of your handler. You get given a hunk of junk barely held together with duct-tape and hope, and told you either use this thing to run...or die.

And then, a few missions later, the game does the cruelest thing it could have possibly done, it gives you a choice. An actual choice, a choice that will matter, a choice that you know will determine how this will all end.

Finally, finally a choice, finally some agency, all the agency in the world.

And when I got to this point? I fucking froze, I just stood there, controller in my clammy hands, and just could not for the life of me decide who to side with, who to betray, who's dreams to make true and who's to shatter. I did make my choice, eventually, because I couldn't just stop here...but I made peace with it. People died, and I expected them to, because the consequences of choice were clear to me right away.

And then...NG+. I do the opposite, I try the alternate missions. I do the other ending...and then the game plays it's most cruel trick. That big choice up there? It didn't matter either.

No matter what ending you picked first, the same people die (minus Ayre because she's special and good and we're all glad she's here), Carla, Chatty, Walter, Rusty. They all die in every ending, some by your hand, some by an enemy's, but still, still they die.

Every time you think you have agency, the game snatches it away. And the final ending just hammers it home as hard as it can. In this route, you become the slave of ALLMIND, you follow its every whim as loyally as you would have with Walter, except maybe you're doing because you saw both previous endings and you hope this time it'll be different. Maybe this time Carla and Chatty and Rusty and Walter won't die, maybe this time the ending won't leave a rotten taste in your mouth.

And then it happens again, they die anyway, again because of and in spite of your choices. And at the end...ALLMIND shows up, and demands you surrender the tiniest bit of agency you have left, your own self.

And, finally, you fight back. Finally, when there is no voice in your ear to tell you otherwise, not Walter or Ayre or Carla or ALLMIND, you make the one decision you still have the power to make.

You fight for your fucking life.

Finally, finally, some agency the game can't and won't take away. Even if all else fails, even if ideals burn and dreams die, you will always have the choice to claw your way out and FIGHT.

After a whole game three times over of not having a real choice in what happens, the taste of Agency is all the sweeter.

[ninjastar107]

Im just going to kepe on putting random thoughts out on this AU, huh? Ill make an organized post later.

Main focus is Tempo and Vesp.

Tempo and Blues sometimes amp each other up waaayy to much. Blues likes to do new things, and mixing that with Tempos upbeat and excitable nature can lead to many accidental topples of furniture.

Tempo sometimes idly rocks on her knee joints. They can bend normally or invert, and she makes sure to 'exercize' these joint areas lest they cease.

Vesper sometimes comes home absolutely covered in pollen. Shes known to give hugs and spread it. What is a visit to LaLainde's lab in the spring but a one way trip to yellow powder heaven? %D

LaLinde has a really bad habit of falling asleep standing up, or sitting up. Her desk is one of those standing ones and sometimes she clocks out for several hours before coming to. Tempo and Vesp offline before she goes to bed, so no one really wakes her up to move her. (Sometimes Blues drops by and does so, however. Usually whens hes feeling adventurous.)

Lalainde doesnt appreciate having wasps indoors, but she is not afraid of them. Many times she catches them in cups and takes them outside. This goes for many bugs, since Vesper would be sad if they wound up dead.

Tempo ans Vesp go on many adventures. They both would really like to go see cavernous ecosystems where parts of the flora have sunken into a more closed space. Maybe one day...

Vesper was partly programmed to help Tempo restore her memories, howevwr this is not a function exclusive to her. Vesp has a very sharp memory, however her delivery of it tends to get on peoples nerves.

Tempo sometimes gets annoyed when Blues shows up on the job, but isnt entirely sure how to approach him about it, since he tends to be very carefree. She apprecistes his willingness to help.

[eldritch-spouse]

Will vesper stop sleeping with other people if his queen asks him to? Like the reader is ready to try to make their relationship work (somehow) but she just doesn't want to see him sleeping around (and she's the same) I personally love his personality and the way you wrote him (he sounds funny and weirdly sweet in his own way), especially since you said before that he is 'the most affectionate and lovey-dovey of all' Icons', but about how he encourages his queen to sleep with others and for him to do so too jute is uncomfortable for me and I don't want that kind of relationship, so how will he deal with that? (I hope I don't sound disrespectful with this question, Just curious about his reaction!)

That literally cannot happen.

He's a concubus. Concubi need sex to feed, to sustain themselves. Maybe an imp can fuck the same person for the rest of their life (a bit saddening for most), a mid-ranker already needs to hit up someone else or risk overwhelming their partner. A high-ranker like Santi needs to fuck several other people to sustain himself or he'll start starving to a degree.

Vesper is the King of Lust. He's the most powerful incubus to ever exist. This demon needs to be having sex very very frequently and your little human body cannot fucking handle it, he guarantees you that much. He's not going to starve just because you have human hang-ups regarding having sex with others nor is he going to humor your little ideas and end up killing you with his hunger.

This is something you need to come to terms with eventually. There will never be sexual-exclusivity between you and Vesper, he will consider you ignorant when you first bring it up, and cruel if to continue to harp on it even after he explains these concepts to you.

Part of the reason why Vesper insists in sharing sexual partners with you is to get you acclimated to this idea, to have you indulge with him so that the two of you stand on an equal footing.

It's just how Lust works. How he works.

Vesper won't push you into having sex with others if you express extreme discomfort with it, but it is kind of disappointing.

[vespersposts]

❇ Darling ❇

🟢I start this collection with Shintaro, who has charm to spare. Don't expect grand gestures, social posts, public displays of attention. Expect, however, to be loved, and very much so. 🟢

A hug, Vesper ❇

-> Valentine's Masterlist 💕

💣PPS: I apologize in advance for any grammatical and/or spelling mistakes, English is not my first language (bear with me!).

➿Genre: fluff, slice of life, one shot.

all images are from the movie 'Une femme mariée ' -> (Jean-Luc Godard, 1964)  

Shintaro Midorima doesn't act like other boyfriends.

He doesn't giggle at your every joke, he doesn't bother to get on your best friend's good side, he doesn't seek everyone's approval by losing himself in pointless flirting in public.

Sometimes he seems so cold towards you, that your classmates almost take it for granted that your relationship is over.

Yet Shintaro would do anything to know you're happy, no matter how uncomfortable it makes him, or how far he exceeds his tolerance threshold.

That's why he wrote you that note, tucked between the pages of your notebooks, where he gives you a date in an unusual place, the town swimming pool.

"Don't be late darling, mind you!"

You read that postscript with a smile, because you imagine his serious expression as he affixes those austere but tender words on the fine paper card.

Shintaro, who has the most beautiful and greenest eyes you have ever seen, with which he never lets you out of his sight, sends you the first and the last text message of the day. Your Shin-chan, who always happens to have your favourite sweets with him, who always knows when you need a break or an excuse to take a break and get a drink from the faculty vending machines.

Small, discreet, intimate, exclusive gestures. An oasis of peace amidst the noise of loud vocals,  kisses and outings to fashionable clubs shared on social networking sites by every couple in your circle of friends. 

You don't need any of that, you know it right from the first time his long hands stroked down your back to keep you close to him.

His embrace, your favourite place in the whole universe.

His smile, so rare for others but so familiar to you, never missing from his lips when you are together.

That is the first detail you notice as you approach him at the swimming centre.  His hand takes yours and brings it to his lips, a gesture that makes your heart skip a beat each time. 

He touches your face with his hand, bringing you close to repeat the same gesture on your cheek, on your temple, observing you with tenderness and dedication as if he were contemplating a priceless work of art.

"Come with me" his voice is serene and deep, his fingers clasp yours. In the movement towards the roof of the building you perceive the good scent of his cologne, the one you chose for him and that never fails on each of your dates.

You follow him, enchanted by his elegant figure, his steady gait, reassured by his hand gripping yours tightly, his face often turned to you to gauge your state.

"Ready?" he asks you and you think your heart is about to explode when you see his expression so sweet and yet so impatient. 

You nod, letting his long arms encircle you.

Beyond the heavy metal door of the terrace, you are greeted by the most incredible sky you have ever seen: strokes of red, yellow, pink chase each other among the rare clouds, breaking the greyness of the city. 

You feel your boyfriend's arms tighten on your womb, his breath is serene, his lips resting against your hair.

 "We said no presents, Shin-chan" you take him back lovingly abandoning yourself against him "I’ll never be able to reciprocate something like that!" you conclude, turning around, looking at his smiling face, closing your eyes when his hands cup your face. 

"Every moment spent with you is a gift to me, I'll have to give you many more surprises before I'm even" he tells you, looking into your eyes, making you blush.

Shintaro smiles and you think you have never loved someone so much.

You raise your head towards him and when your lips meet, you know he feels the same way.

[lovehotelreservation]

Healslut

Summary: Not your own Leader caring this much about your DPS as a healer!

Truly, this training session is going to be so bothersome!

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: F!Reader/Regis

IYKYK 😭😭😭😭😭

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

It was always the most pestering thing when the easiest of tasks was made to be impossibly difficult.

In this case, your current crux of aggravation was taking down a target dummy with the power of your offensive magic–a fair and straightforward endeavor for a healer of your prowess. After all, your association with the renowned Adventurer’s Guild TEMPUS brought some prestige to your name throughout the lands of Elysium.

And yet, here you were, barely able to cobble together any sense of concentration to imbue your staff with enough magic to fire at your target.

But how could you, really?

Even while you tightly gripped your staff with not a shred of slack in the slightest, you were still left to tremble, any recitations of magic marred by breathless gasps and whines.

Your knees buckled, your face scorched scarlet, your thighs quivered, your robes disheveled–your current visage was far and away from the adored image of TEMPUS’s trusted healer.

And it was all in part due to the land’s acclaimed hero.

Their Regis, your Altare.

For while you held a great deal of respect for your Leader, you yearned to take a nice and solid swing at his knee with your staff as penance for what he was currently doing to you.

A re-establishment of the basics to adventuring at the training hall–it was what he proposed exclusively to you after a recent dungeon endeavor with him and the other TEMPUS members. Under his watchful gaze, your insistence on overhealing instead of taking time to assist with needed offense only served to drag out your time descending further into the murky depths that awaited you all.

For the commonfolk of Elysium, such a suggestion from the soft-spoken, smiley hero would only serve to live up to his golden stellar reputation.

But before your eyes, in your ears, and on your skin, this advice only drew out your further ire.

Especially as you once again conjured up your magic to send a disk of magic ricocheting right over to the training dummy, it was at the same exact moment that your leader shifted ever so slightly from where he stood behind you.

His hands–ever skillfully deft with a sword and happily extended for any weary soul to take–continued to roam along your body, with one having been shoved through the front of your robes to fondle your breasts all while the other continued to travel along your side, giving your hip and your ass a squeeze. 

This was all in tandem to the push and plunge of his cock in-between your bared thighs, his thick girth gliding seamlessly right against the slick, velvety warmth of your core’s entrance. 

His lips, usually fixed in that serene and dreamy smile of his, continued to drag along the side of your neck, happy and eager to leave mementos of his presence from kisses and bites on your skin.

His voice, ever a sweet and soft articulated timber, only sought to make you cry out and shudder in anticipation from every filthy thing he murmured to you.

“Remember, if you can’t clear such a simple task, I get to stain that pretty face of yours with my cum while calling over Dez, Vesper, and Axel over to take a good long look at you~”

Whatever spell you were planning to release at last simply eviscerated before your very eyes as you whined with the helpless buckle of your knees and the tight press of your thighs.

Altare was laughing, taking a moment to steal yet another nibble to your neck while he quickened the pace of his thrusts.

“Ah, ah, ah, don’t think that cute thigh clench is gonna go unnoticed by me~ Not that I’m surprised–of course a healslut like you would be excited from being humiliated in front of your comrades.”

Your teeth clenched. “Don’t even start, Altare–”

“‘Me’?” There was amusement to his tone–without looking back at him, you knew his eyes were glittering with thrill at your defiance. “And just who is in this predicament right now, hmm?” He tested, this time bringing his teeth to your earlobe for a teasing nip. “Not my fault that our lovely healer isn’t being efficient while on the job~”

Your eyes narrowed, your face snapping towards him with a glare. “Do you want to survive, or what–?!”

It was in that moment that your staff instantly thrummed full with magic, of which you didn’t waste another moment further to send crackling through the air to send hurtling towards the training dummy, the weighted doll bursting apart upon impact.

The frustration in your eyes dissipated as you watched the debris hit the floor, with Altare doing much the same as he slowed his thrusts to a halt.

Silence settled into the room for a moment, up until you breathed in and exhaled with relief.

At last, you were finally done and finally free from this accursed exercise.

While you still had to deal with the needy ache between your thighs, you rejoiced at no longer having to put up with your leader’s shenanigans.

As you opened your lips to speak, you felt his arms squeeze around your waist as he began to laugh once more while he offered your cheeks a couple kisses. “Now that’s our healer!”

“Could’ve finished this a lot faster if it wasn’t for you–!” Whatever huffed retort you had to say in return was cut short as you were suddenly lifted up off from the ground, soon finding yourself hauled into his arms. “Leader–?”

His grinning lips found their way to yours, more soon following as he carried you over to one of the wooden tables within the training hall.

A trail of kisses soon made their way over to your ear as he then purred, “Did you think that was it? What you’ve shown to me is that there’s a lot to be desired with your stamina~”

While you greatly looked forward to seizing the pleasure of getting to give his knee a good whack with your staff afterwards, you sighed with content as you were laid across the table with him settling right between your thighs.

For as difficult as he made your days sometimes, it was so easy to love Altare.

[theinfernalcollective]

Let's talk about endogenic systems

PLEASE NOTE!: this is our personal opinion.

Alrighty! For us endo/endogenic systems are a gray area.

The existence of dissociative disorders like DID, OSDD and UDD are exclusively formed from childhood trauma. Now, as we know endogenic systems claim to have formed without trauma or their trauma wasn't the cause of it.

In our eyes some endo systems aren't endogenic systems at all. The entire reason these disorders exist is to keep the brain safe, and apart of that is keeping traumatic memories hidden. So we think that their brains are keeping those memories on such tight hold that they legitimately think they have no trauma. Thanks for reading :)

- Vesper

[lycanthropy-misanthrophy]

Greetings, you can call me vesper. I go by they & he & it, and I'm bisexual with a masc lean. I'm 20 years old, so I appreciate interacting with other adults more, especially when discussing details of my identity.

I am dynamifluid, but primary a gamma or beta, with other identities including alpha and delta. I am both miscecanis and miscechiroptor, as well as therian (werewolf and werebat). My scent is woody (cedar & cypress), with cinnamon and smoke.

I'm open to interactions with all dynamics and I'm also open to pack invitations, though would like to interact with all members prior to joining and prefer an exclusively adult pack.

[defiedfate]

new followers, fantasy blogs, dnd, and bg3 muses should all like for a starter from Vesper. we can plot, feel free to hop in my IMs or ask for my discord. otherwise I'll just start with something small and we can go from there. all interactions are allowed. any subject matter welcome and will be tagged properly. anything goes, my friends <3

[cityandking]

multiples of 5 for minah, lira + vesper 🥰

tyyyyy! my dragon age girlies <3 // oc ask meme: roots edition

5. What did your OC think their life would be like when they grew up? Has it lived up to that expectation?

MINAH + VESPER — answered! LIRA — thought she'd grow up and get married to a bann or an arl and run their estate and serve in the landsmeet and be everything a cousland daughter should be — just, righteous, an honor to her house and her family. the highever massacre and her conscription cut her off from that avenue, and she responded by doubling down on the warden duties to the exclusion of all else, especially the life she thought she would live. everything has been different from how she imagined, but honestly the older she gets the more her job as warden commander brings her back in line with those earlier expectations of rule and obligation. (when/if she eventually cures the calling and marries alistair, it's... well, yeah. eventually her life does fit into a shape almost like the one she expected as a girl).

10. What's the first significant injury your OC remembers getting? Did it leave any scars?

MINAH — when she was about 17 or so she got clumsy and was caught and thrown in jail. her attempt to evade capture resulted in a bit of an altercation, and she got a nasty head wound. it wasn't actually that bad, but it did leave a noticeable scar above one eye, which she hides by wearing her bangs long. LIRA — some training or hunting accident as a child. it didn't leave any excessive scarring, and it was very much just part and parcel of being a teenager (or even preteen) learning how to use weapons and fight and do the things expected of a teryn's daughter. her father, who was overseeing the exercise, got an earful from eleanor but lira was back on her feet within the week, so all in all it was fine. VESPER — an angry and frightened apprentice stabbed her when she was maybe 22? 23? early in her days as an enchanter and instructor. fortunately the boy didn't try to pull the knife out again and there were healers on hand, so she was back on her feet relatively soon after, but she does have a scar. vesper insisted it was an accident, and there were no other enchanters around when the "accident" happened to disagree, so the boy got off with a warning about knife safety and was removed from her crafting class for a few weeks. he was one of the apprentices who left Ostwick with her when the circles collapsed.

15. What was comforting to your OC as a child? Do they still find comfort in that now?

MINAH — her family, mostly, but also finding somewhere quiet and private to tuck herself away and people watch, and also music. two of those things are still a comfort. her family, not so much. LIRA — finding ser gilmore (squire gilmore back then) and shooting the shit for hours. or curling up in her father's study while he worked, until she was feeling up to coming behind his chair and offering her input on whatever he was working on. or trailing after fergus while he did whatever he did. she liked her familiar people and familiar places and familiar routines. she's had to remake most of those things — people and place and routine — but they still bring comfort. VESPER — she loved the gardens. mostly she loved the house out in the foothills, honestly, but when they moved to ostwick the garden was enough. that and being with kit; he's always been her favorite sibling. it's taken a long time (about 20 years) but she's finally able to have her garden and her brother around when she needs their comfort (and she has more people, now, to lean on).

20. What were the most idyllic years of your OC's childhood? Does your OC miss those days?

MINAH — probably between the ages of 13 and 15. she thought she had everything figured out, and everything really did seem figured out! there was no reason for things not to be figured out! she misses it and wishes she didn't. LIRA — those last couple years before the highever massacre. everything was just Good. her family was good, she was an aunt, she was coming into her own, she was young and eager and proud. she had ser gilmore. she could have lived in that contentment forever. it made its ending that much worse. VESPER — around age 7/8. she was happy out on the farm/ranch. sure the twins were terrible but there was so much space and so many things to do and all that energy didn't get focused on vesper. she could ride and run with the dogs and listen to her mother's tales of orlais and slip into kit's lessons and all of it was just simple and easy and nice. she doesn't miss being that young—and she knows now that things probably weren't that simple, that hindsight is 20/20 and there were probably plenty of things she missed what with being a child and all—but she misses the simplicity and the happiness. she misses when everyone was happy and alive.

[aniron48]

Home for 00Q? 💕 If it pleases you 😘😘

Hi, @stinastar! This one goes out to you and @mr-iskender, who also requested home.

Friends, I have no excuses for this. It was meant to be short, and somehow here it is, clocking in at almost 1700 words. Send help.

Fic under the cut, in light of a small amount of spice. It's also up on ao3, in case it's easier to read there, given the length. ::facepalm::

I hope you enjoy, lovely ones--thank you for this ask! <3

Bond didn’t hate his flat, not exactly. It was just that it was always meant to be a stopgap, a temporary landing place after he’d moved back to London eight months before. The rent was extortionate, to be sure; the views dismal; the heating insufficiently calibrated to the wet London weather. The lift was out of service more often than not; the kitchen was cramped; and his upstairs neighbor seemed to listen exclusively to music by James Blunt, but setting that aside—

Bond hated his flat.

Once he’d decided to move, there was nothing for it but to start browsing the listings. The problem was, he didn’t know what he wanted, exactly, other than the antithesis of his current place. Skyfall had been a home only by virtue of the fact that his parents were there, and because of the wide, rambling moor outside that had as much to do with raising him as his parents had. It was no coincidence that his best memories of the place were also his earliest, a fuzzy sense of waking up shivering in his bed in the drafty manor house and running through the halls to his parents’ room. He would climb in bed with them, snuggling under the duvet and keeping the cold at bay long enough to get another hour or so of sleep.

It had been years until he’d felt warmth like that again. Certainly not with the Oberhausers, or in his barracks in the Royal Navy. He’d never had the chance to make a home with Vesper, and the intervening years had mainly been a series of hotel rooms and temporary flats as he bounced from mission to mission.

And then there was Q.

When Bond and Q had finally fallen into bed six months ago, after an embarrassingly long period of mutual idiocy, Bond had been wary at first, bracing for an inevitable end before the relationship even fully began. Their saving grace had been Q’s equal and opposite assumption: that, having finally gotten his head out of his arse, Bond was there to stay.

And stay he did. Bond was helpless in the face of the easy, instinctive way that Q loved, the way he wrapped himself around Bond at night, as if anchoring him in place against any storm, the way he simply included Bond in his life and his plans, as if there were no question that he was wanted, and that he would be there.

That warmth extended to his house, too. There were no scratchy throw pillows or uncomfortable decorative sofas to be found—only Q’s soft bamboo sheets and fluffy blankets, his shelf of teas and his overflowing bookshelves and his beloved cats that seemed to make it their personal mission to convert Bond to the feline cause. If there was anyone who knew what a home ought to feel like, it was Q.

Bond rubbed a hand against his early morning scruff, clicking through the listings again. Perhaps it wouldn’t be quite as much of an ordeal if Q could look at places with him. He picked up his phone and dialed the number he knew by heart.

The first place they saw was a lost cause.

“I don’t really want an upstairs neighbor, is the thing,” Bond said, looking up at the ceiling as if waiting to see what horrendous music would issue forth at any moment.

“Right,” the estate agent said brightly. “So a flat on the top floor might do the trick.”

“No,” Bond said slowly. “I don’t really want a downstairs neighbor, either.” He had high hopes of enticing Q to spend more nights at his place, once he had a decent one, and Q, bless him, was not quiet in bed. The last thing Bond wanted was noise complaints of his own, not if they stood a chance of dampening all that lovely enthusiasm.

“So…you want a house?”

“Yes,” Bond said. “Yes, I think I do.”

“It’ll be a tall order,” Q warned. “Prices have gone up quite a bit. You may need the equivalent of a small inheritance, for something that meets your standards.”

“Well,” Bond said grimly, thinking of Skyfall, of the parents who had been gone, by now, for three quarters of his life, “as it turns out, I happen to have one.”

The second and third places they saw were better, but still not quite right. One was almost as drafty as Skyfall, and the cost to heat it would take another inheritance altogether. The other was too posh entirely, everything about its design suggesting that it was meant exclusively to be admired, rather than for something as passé as being comfortably inhabited.

The fourth was too far from Q’s to be an easy commute, and the fifth had floors that creaked in a way Bond was certain would drive him to distraction after any length of time. And the sixth—well.

“This is the best so far,” Q said, after they’d had a look around. “The floors have just been redone, as have the windows, so no creaks, and no drafts. And look, I think those are the original moldings on the ceilings.”

The estate agent beamed. “If you’d like, we can talk to the owners about making an initial offer. It’s likely to go quite fast, and—“

“I don’t know,” Bond said. “I’m not particularly keen on the bathroom lighting.”

“The bathroom lighting?” Q asked. “Since when is that a consideration?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Bond purred. “I’m rather fond of the lighting in your shower.”

Q’s cheeks pinked, no doubt recalling the time a few weeks back when he’d told Bond that he liked the idea of shower sex, in theory, but had doubts about the practice. Bond had enthusiastically devoted himself to proving him wrong. The frosted glass window in Q’s shower had let in enough of the evening light to set the water droplets on Q’s skin aglow, as Bond had braced them both against the tiled shower wall until the hot water finally ran out.

The estate agent coughed. “So, you’re not interested in making an offer, I take it?”

“So sorry,” Q said. “Maybe we’d better try again next weekend?”

Bond woke early on Saturday morning, after an uncomfortable night alone in his flat. His neighbor had kept the music on long past midnight, and when Bond had finally fallen asleep, it had been to “You’re Beautiful” on unending repeat. He’d hoped a shower would wake him up and ease the ache in his muscles from tossing and turning the night before, but when he got to the bathroom, the hot water heater had gone out, again.

Grumbling to himself, Bond threw himself down on the couch and pulled out his laptop, resigning himself to browsing listings again until it was late enough to call Q, who’d been stuck at MI6 until an ungodly hour the night before.

He sighed. Clearly a change in tack was needed. He pulled out a pen and pad of paper and started making a list of minimum requirements.

Cozy, he wrote down.

He considered the pathetic heating in his flat, his sporadic access to hot water. Q’s shower always had hot water, and good water pressure to boot. Maybe he ought to look somewhere nearby.

Warm, he added.

Followed by Cats a nice plus.

And then, before he could think about it too much, Q.

“Shit,” Bond muttered to himself. “I suppose that should have been obvious.” He sighed, gathering his nerve, and pulled out his phone.

“Hello, darling,” he said, when Q picked up. “Are you free this morning? It’s just that I’ve had a bit of a breakthrough with the flat search. I think I’ve found somewhere I could be happy.”

“That’s wonderful news,” Q said, and the warmth in his voice, even over the phone, settled what remained of Bond’s doubts. “Would you like me to come look at it with you?”

“Yes. Yes, I’d like that very much. Can I pop by in half an hour?”

“Of course. I’ll be here.”

Q kissed him hello at the door. “Do we have time for breakfast? There’s tea. And I made coffee as well, for the less civilized.”

“Oi,” Bond said, already walking into the kitchen to pour himself a cup.

“And we have time for breakfast,” he added as he sat down at the kitchen table. “Because, ah—here’s the thing.” Bond took a large swallow of coffee, wishing desperately he’d brought something stronger to spike it with. “None of the places we saw felt right, and I think it’s because I’ve been looking for this—this ineffable thing that would let me know it was the right place for me. But I don’t know how to replicate that feeling anywhere, because the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I’ve only ever felt it here. With you. So I was wondering—“

Bond took a deep breath, and met Q’s eyes. “What if I moved in here? With you?”

Q smiled, the dimples Bond loved so dearly appearing on his face. “Finally. That’s the best idea you’ve had all month.”

“Really? You wouldn’t mind?”

Q took a sip of tea and pulled a key out of his trouser pocket, sliding it across the table toward Bond.

Bond stared.

“I had it made two weeks ago,” Q said.

Bond swallowed, running a finger over the key. “How did you know?”

 Those dimples, again. “You hum to yourself in the shower, when you’re here.”

“And that’s enough?”

“That’s everything.”

Bond cleared his throat, not trusting himself to speak. Q laid his head on Bond’s shoulder, resting there a long moment before saying, “And then there are your other shower-related activities.”

“Mm. And what are those, exactly?”

“I can refresh your memory, if you like,” Q pushed his chair back from the table. “The light is lovely at this hour of the day.”

“A crucial feature.” Bond took Q’s hand, pulling Q up. “Shall I just make myself at home, then?”

“Of course you should,” Q said. “Go on, then. Lead the way.”

[orthodoxydaily]

Saints&Reading: Sunday, March 17, 2024

march 4_march 17

Forgiveness Sunday

In the Orthodox Church, the last Sunday before Great Lent—the day on which, at Vespers, Lent is liturgically announced and inaugurated—is called Forgiveness Sunday. On the morning of that Sunday, at the Divine Liturgy, we hear the words of Christ:

“If you forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you, but if you forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses...” (Mark 6:14-15).

Then after Vespers—after hearing the announcement of Lent in the Great Prokeimenon: “Turn not away Thy face from Thy child, for I am afflicted! Hear me speedily! Draw near unto my soul and deliver it!”, after making our entrance into Lenten worship, with its special melodies, with the prayer of Saint Ephraim the Syrian, with its prostrations—we ask forgiveness from each other, we perform the rite of forgiveness and reconciliation. And as we approach each other with words of reconciliation, the choir intones the Paschal hymns, filling the church with the anticipation of Paschal joy.

What is the meaning of this rite? Why is it that the Church wants us to begin the Lenten season with forgiveness and reconciliation? These questions are in order because for too many people Lent means primarily, and almost exclusively, a change of diet, the compliance with ecclesiastical regulations concerning fasting. They understand fasting as an end in itself, as a “good deed” required by God and carrying in itself its merit and its reward. But the Church spares no effort in revealing to us that fasting is but a means, one among many, towards a higher goal: the spiritual renewal of man, his return to God, true repentance and, therefore, true reconciliation. The Church spares no effort in warning us against a hypocritical and pharisaic fasting, against the reduction of religion to mere external obligations. As a Lenten hymn says:

“In vain do you rejoice in not eating, O soul! For you abstain from food, But from passions you are not purified. If you persevere in sin, you will perform a useless fast!”

Now, forgiveness stands at the very center of Christian faith and of Christian life because Christianity itself is, above all, the religion of forgiveness. God forgives us, and His forgiveness is in Christ, His Son, whom He sends to us so that by sharing in His humanity we may share in His love and be truly reconciled with God. Indeed, Christianity has no other content but love. And it is primarily the renewal of that love, a growth in it, that we seek in Great Lent, in fasting and prayer, in the entire spirit and the entire effort of that season. Thus, truly forgiveness is both the beginning of, and the proper condition for, the Lenten season.

One may ask, however, why I should perform this rite when I have no “enemies?” Why should I ask forgiveness from people who have done nothing to me and whom I hardly know? To ask these questions is to misunderstand the Orthodox teaching concerning forgiveness. Open enmity, personal hatred, and real animosity may indeed be absent from our life. However, if we experience them, it may be easier to repent, for these feelings openly contradict Divine commandments. But the Church reveals that there are many subtler ways of offending Divine Love. These are indifference, selfishness, lack of interest in other people, of any genuine concern for them—in short, that wall which we usually erect around ourselves, thinking that by being “polite” and “friendly” we fulfill God’s commandments. The rite of forgiveness is so important precisely because it makes us realize—be it only for one minute—that our entire relationship to other men is wrong, makes us experience that encounter of one child of God with another, of one person created by God with another, makes us feel that mutual “recognition” which is so terribly lacking in our cold and dehumanized world.

On that unique evening, listening to the joyful Paschal hymns we are called to make a spiritual discovery: to taste of another mode of life and relationship with people, of life whose essence is love. We can discover that always and everywhere Christ, the Divine Love Himself, stands in the midst of us, transforming our mutual alienation into brotherhood. As I advance towards the other, as the other comes to me—we begin to realize that it is Christ who brings us together by His love for both of us.

And because we make this discovery—and because this discovery is that of the Kingdom of God itself: the Kingdom of Peace and Love, of reconciliation with God and, in Him, with all that exists—we hear the hymns of that Feast, which once a year “opens to us the doors of Paradise.” We know why we shall fast and pray, what we shall seek during the long Lenten pilgrimage.

Forgiveness Sunday: the day on which we acquire the power to make our fasting—true fasting; our effort—true effort; our reconciliation with God—true reconciliation.

—Father Alexander Schmemann

VENERABLE GERASIMUS OF THE JORDAN (475)

Saint Gerasimus was a native of Lycia (Asia Minor). From his early years, he was distinguished for his piety. Having received monastic tonsure, he withdrew into the desert of the Thebaid (in Egypt). In about 450, the monk arrived in Palestine and settled in the Jordan, where he founded a monastery.

For a certain while Saint Gerasimus was tempted by the heresy of Eutyches and Dioscorus, which acknowledged only the divine nature in Jesus Christ, but not His human nature (i.e. the Monophysite heresy). Saint Euthymius the Great (January 20) helped him to return to the true Faith.

Saint Gerasimus established a strict monastic Rule. He spent five days of the week in solitude, occupying himself with handicrafts and prayer. On these days the wilderness dwellers did not eat cooked food, nor did they kindle a fire, but ate only dry bread, roots and water.

On Saturday and Sunday all gathered at the monastery for Divine Liturgy and to partake of the Holy Mysteries of Christ. In the afternoon, taking a supply of bread, tubers, water and an armload of date-palm branches for weaving baskets, the desert-dwellers returned to their own cells. Each had only old clothes and a mat, upon which he slept. When they left their cells, the door was never locked, so that anyone could enter and rest, or take whatever he needed.

Saint Gerasimus himself attained a high level of asceticism. During Great Lent he ate nothing until the very day of the All-Radiant Resurrection of Christ, when he received the Holy Mysteries. Going out into the desert for all of Great Lent, Saint Gerasimus took with him his beloved disciple Saint Cyriacus (September 29), whom Saint Euthymius had sent to him.

When Saint Euthymius the Great died, Saint Gerasimus saw how angels carried the soul of the departed up to Heaven. Taking Cyriacus with him, the monk immediately set off to the monastery of Saint Euthymius and consigned his body to the earth.

Elder's death it died at his grave and was buried nearby. Therefore, Saint Gerasimus died peacefully, mourned by his brethren and disciples. Before his death, a lion had aided Saint Gerasimus in his tasks, and upon the Elder's death, it died at his grave and was buried nearby. Therefore, the lion is depicted on icons of the saint at his feet.

Source: Orthodox Church in America_OCA

ROMANS 13:11-14:4

11 And do this, knowing the time, that now it is high time to awake out of sleep; for now our salvation is nearer than when we first believed. 12 The night is far spent, the day is at hand. Therefore let us cast off the works of darkness, and let us put on the armor of light. 13 Let us walk properly, as in the day, not in revelry and drunkenness, not in lewdness and lust, not in strife and envy. 14 But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to fulfill its lusts.

1 Receive one who is weak in the faith, but not to disputes over doubtful things. 2 For one believes he may eat all things, but he who is weak eats only vegetables. 3 Let not him who eats despise him who does not eat, and let not him who does not eat judge him who eats; for God has received him. 4 Who are you to judge another's servant? To his own master, he stands or falls. Indeed, he will be made to stand, for God can make him stand.

JOHN 20:11-18

11But Mary stood outside by the tomb weeping, and as she wept she stooped down and looked into the tomb. 12 And she saw two angels in white sitting, one at the head and the other at the feet, where the body of Jesus had lain. 13 Then they asked her, "Woman, why are you weeping?" She said to them, "Because they have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they had laid Him." 14 Now when she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, and did not know that it was Jesus. 15 Jesus said to her, "Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?" She, supposing Him to be the gardener, said to Him, "Sir, if You have carried Him away, tell me where You have laid Him, and I will take Him away." 16 Jesus said to her, "Mary!" She turned and said to Him, "Rabboni!" (which is to say, Teacher). 17 Jesus said to her, "Do not cling to Me, for I have not yet ascended to My Father; but go to My brethren and say to them, 'I am ascending to My Father and your Father, and to My God and your God.' " 18 Mary Magdalene came and told the disciples that she had seen the Lord, and that He had spoken these things to her.

[orthodoxadventure]

Beginning of Great Lent

Commemorated on March 18

In the Orthodox Church, the last Sunday before Great Lent—the day on which, at Vespers, Lent is liturgically announced and inaugurated—is called Forgiveness Sunday. On the morning of that Sunday, at the Divine Liturgy, we hear the words of Christ:

“If you forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you, but if you forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses...” (Mark 6:14-15).

Then after Vespers—after hearing the announcement of Lent in the Great Prokeimenon: “Turn not away Thy face from Thy child, for I am afflicted! Hear me speedily! Draw near unto my soul and deliver it!”, after making our entrance into Lenten worship, with its special melodies, with the prayer of Saint Ephraim the Syrian, with its prostrations—we ask forgiveness from each other, we perform the rite of forgiveness and reconciliation. And as we approach each other with words of reconciliation, the choir intones the Paschal hymns, filling the church with the anticipation of Paschal joy.

What is the meaning of this rite? Why is it that the Church wants us to begin the Lenten season with forgiveness and reconciliation? These questions are in order because for too many people Lent means primarily, and almost exclusively, a change of diet, the compliance with ecclesiastical regulations concerning fasting. They understand fasting as an end in itself, as a “good deed” required by God and carrying in itself its merit and its reward. But the Church spares no effort in revealing to us that fasting is but a means, one among many, towards a higher goal: the spiritual renewal of man, his return to God, true repentance and, therefore, true reconciliation. The Church spares no effort in warning us against a hypocritical and pharisaic fasting, against the reduction of religion to mere external obligations. As a Lenten hymn says:

“In vain do you rejoice in not eating, O soul! For you abstain from food, But from passions you are not purified. If you persevere in sin, you will perform a useless fast!”

Now, forgiveness stands at the very center of Christian faith and of Christian life because Christianity itself is, above all, the religion of forgiveness. God forgives us, and His forgiveness is in Christ, His Son, whom He sends to us so that by sharing in His humanity we may share in His love and be truly reconciled with God. Indeed, Christianity has no other content but love. And it is primarily the renewal of that love, a growth in it, that we seek in Great Lent, in fasting and prayer, in the entire spirit and the entire effort of that season. Thus, truly forgiveness is both the beginning of, and the proper condition for, the Lenten season.

One may ask, however: Why should I perform this rite when I have no “enemies?” Why should I ask forgiveness from people who have done nothing to me, and whom I hardly know? To ask these questions is to misunderstand the Orthodox teaching concerning forgiveness. It is true that open enmity, personal hatred, real animosity may be absent from our life, though if we experience them, it may be easier for us to repent, for these feelings openly contradict Divine commandments. But the Church reveals to us that there are much subtler ways of offending Divine Love. These are indifference, selfishness, lack of interest in other people, of any real concern for them—in short, that wall which we usually erect around ourselves, thinking that by being “polite” and “friendly” we fulfill God’s commandments. The rite of forgiveness is so important precisely because it makes us realize—be it only for one minute—that our entire relationship to other men is wrong, makes us experience that encounter of one child of God with another, of one person created by God with another, makes us feel that mutual “recognition” which is so terribly lacking in our cold and dehumanized world.

On that unique evening, listening to the joyful Paschal hymns we are called to make a spiritual discovery: to taste of another mode of life and relationship with people, of life whose essence is love. We can discover that always and everywhere Christ, the Divine Love Himself, stands in the midst of us, transforming our mutual alienation into brotherhood. As I advance towards the other, as the other comes to me—we begin to realize that it is Christ who brings us together by His love for both of us.

And because we make this discovery—and because this discovery is that of the Kingdom of God itself: the Kingdom of Peace and Love, of reconciliation with God and, in Him, with all that exists—we hear the hymns of that Feast, which once a year “opens to us the doors of Paradise.” We know why we shall fast and pray, what we shall seek during the long Lenten pilgrimage.

Forgiveness Sunday: the day on which we acquire the power to make our fasting—true fasting; our effort—true effort; our reconciliation with God—true reconciliation.

—Father Alexander Schmemann

[swoomoo]

Part 2 of my very brief short character background requested by @nerdhangout

She spent the next few years in the Sabbat and only escaped once another superior an her created an emotional bond. (A Malk whose curse made them think they were so ugly only the Sabbat would accept them) Once she killed their other pack member during the low of their group blood bond they ran. After running Amare had only her new friend. She started learning about kindred society and actually started to gain affection for a human woman named Claire (platonic) and became her friend. The woman had a child named Vesper (COUGH COUGH @informaltorching) and she continued to watch them. That bitch named Lucy shows back up because she was turned by that Tzimisce before she fully died and she is PISSED at Amare. She kills Claire (Sorry Vesper) and fucks off. Amare is devastated and blames herself for he own mother and Claire dying, both to the same nasty monster. She turns to see little 12 year old Vesper freaking out crying his mom was eaten so Amare wipes his memory. She vows to protect him no matter what. She takes that very seriously and spends the next 27 years perfecting him deciding she wants to embrace him because that is the only way to truly protect him from other kindred. Once he is back from college though she is surprised to see Vesper is actually really hot and aged as an adult like wine and goes "Well, might as well enjoy this" but the little shit goes and joins the second inquisition because his daddy went crazy after Claire died. She follows Vesper all the way to London where he was killed and sired but some Banu Haqim loser and finally Amare convinced Vesper to leave the Camarilla to be with her. He was scared of his curse since Banu are so extra with wanting snacks when they get mad so she convinced him to blood bond to her and exclusively feed from her (He is a blood leech).

That is where our story picks up. Beyond that my character has really high Wits, Stealth, Awareness and Larceny. They pride themselves on being superior to Nosferatu at getting info. They are a pred type pursuer since they like to watch people... Currently has Oblivion 3, Potence 2, Dominate 1, Auspex 1. She wants to protect Vesper her beloved and also join the Amici Noctis.