#And of course now I'm worried for Marx | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

artistsfuneral · 1 year ago

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The Road to Kaer Morhen - p.3

“Well some of us decided to make use of the daylight and get supplies,” Jaskier answered, proudly holding up their new belongings. The Cat Witcher frowned at him, head cocked to the side, “Rope? What on earth do we need rope for, it's a mountain path not a cliff climbing exercise.” Jaskier rolled his eyes and – pointedly ignoring Aiden – knotted the rope to the side of his pack. He'd keep the charm in his belt pouch for now. “I mean seriously, Jaskier. Wouldn't food have been better? It's not like I can help a lot in that department, given the overall,” Aiden stopped himself from continuing and waved at himself with a sour face. Jaskier sighed.

He really couldn't phantom when he had developed the habit of running into half-dead witchers in need of heroic rescuing, but at this point it had happened too many times to still be considered a coincidence. Much like it had been the case with the other three Cats, the Viper, the Griffin pair and who afterwards had insisted on being called his Crane Wife, Jaskier had found Aiden just on time. After the failed assassination attempt in Yspaden and a horrible week spent hiding in the alleys and basements of Luton, Jaskier had collected enough coin and courage to head east, towards Kaedwen. Then, when traveling through the forests of Gelibol, he suddenly came across a merchant's cart and a man with amber eyes who introduced himself as Roland Treugger. Despite the fact that the man was an excellent liar, more so than the backstabbing cretin Valdo Marx himself, Jaskier almost instantly understood that there was something off about the merchant. Lo and behold, Jaskier wasn't being paranoid and the noise he heard coming from the inside of the wagon was not some caged animal to be sold at the next market, like Treugger had insisted, but Aiden bleeding onto the floor. Jaskier remembered very vividly how after that particular discovery he had turned back around and looked at the other man with a look so dispassionate it made Treugger stumble backwards. What Jaskier – despite Aiden's constant insisting – did not remember was the fact that Treugger had straight out stumbled into Jaskier's blade. Sixteen times. It certainly was a nice thought, but alas Jaskier was nothing but a humble bard and the short sword he carried with him was mostly for decoration. Aiden didn't believe him for a second.

Nevertheless the damage had already been done and while the Cat Witcher was lucky enough for both of his broken legs to heal properly, the same couldn't be said about his left arm or eye. In the passing day he lost both. Over his many years of travel the bard had to witness countless heartbreaking fates, but watching Aiden wake up only to realize what gruesome things had been done to him would stick with Jaskier for a long time. Aiden, like any witcher, was saved by his astonishingly strength and tough heart. His humor helped a lot too, as Jaskier was quick to learn.

Spending a fortnight hidden away in the forests had given them enough time to get to know and befriend each other. So when a troop of nilfgaardian soldiers found their camp, splitting up wasn't on the table anymore. Now Jaskier was stuck with a new travel companion and around a hundred horrible jokes on his mind about how Aiden was all-right, even if there was hardly anything left of him.

“No need to worry, sunshine, you forgot that I've been following Geralt around for around a century or so, I know my outdoor survival.” The bard chimed in, trying to lighten the mood again. Instead he watched how Aiden's right eye tightened. “Yeah, about that-” the witcher started, but was promptly cut off by him again. “Figuratively! Of course I meant it felt like a century. I was exaggerating, I'm a bard!” The deadpan look Aiden gave him was more than telling.

“Anyways! I think we really should get going. We've been pretty lucky so far, so I guess it's probably only a matter of time before someone comes looking for us.” The bard said, looking out the window of their small room to make sure that his fears hadn't become reality yet. “Need a helping hand?” he asked and watched with amusement as Aiden's face turned from disbelieve to being outright scandalized. “Fuck off!” He laughed and flipped Jaskier the bird, before finally getting out of bed. “You are going to end up in hell, bard,” the Cat Witcher tsked at him and went to collect his clothes from a stool nearby. “Oh shush, don't even pretend we don't share the same humor, pussycat.”

“Never said I was going to to meet Melitele either.”

“Ugh, sunshine, you're so dramatic!” Jaskier sighed, well aware of the irony behind his words. He watched, out the corner of his eyes, how Aiden slipped into his shirt, pants and coat. He struggled to secure the green sash around his waist that was supposed to keep his pants up like a belt. Aiden fought for a moment before managing to tighten the knot by holding part of the sash down with his elbow. Jaskier quietly thanked the gods for the small success and shouldered his pack and lute, checking the room twice for things he might have forgotten, while Aiden put on his boots and silver sword. He knew the Cat knew that he was watching like a hawk, but neither of them braced the topic of Jaskier's over-protectiveness.

Aiden was about to shoulder his sea sack when the two men were stopped mid-movement by loud voices coming from outside. Their eyes met and Aiden, closest to the open window, dropped to the floor just as quickly as Jaskier pressed himself against the far back wall of their room. Jerking his head towards the window he silently but sternly told Aiden to check out the commotion. After all he was the witcher, not Jaskier.

Aiden made a face at the bard that could we equally translated as 'Duh.' or 'Fuck you.' but dutifully inched closer to the window and listened. Not a moment later the witcher's pupil thinned into a predatory slit that fixated on Jaskier in a way that unmistakably meant trouble for them. “Redania,” Aiden mouthed without making a sound and then proceeded to make his way towards Jaskier, crawling on all... threes, in a way that he would've found hilarious if it weren't for their dire situation. “Soldiers,” Aiden whispered once he had reached the bard, “looking for a bard and his witcher in the name of the crown. They probably think I'm Geralt.”

“Fuck,” Jaskier cursed underneath his breath, his heart hammering inside his chest as he willed his brain to think of a plan.

“There's a back door!” he suddenly remembered, having seen one of the innkeeper's daughters enter the house through the kitchens. “If we make it downstairs in time, we can escape through the yard.”

Aiden bit his lip. “Too risky. We don't know if any of the soldiers are already inside the house and the courtyard could be closed off. I say we climb through the window in the hallway and down the balcony, then make a run for it. Through the market and straight into the forest.”

“You want to jump off a balcony with two freshly healed legs and then get us separated in a crowd, are you mad!?” Jaskier hissed and slapped his hand against Aiden's shoulder. “There's no way the courtyard is closed off! And even if, we can just climb up and out.”

“Oh, but that's not risky at all. What happens if they surround us?”

please like and reblog if you voted

✨🌿🌼✨

How do you pronounce Kaedwen in your head? like Cat-Wen or Kate-Wen? I've always said it like cat-wen, but I started watching the nightmare wolf movie thingy and I'm pretty sure they said kate-wen. and I didn't like it.

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#the witcher #artistsfuneral about the witcher #witcher #road to kaer morhen fic #jaskier #witcher aiden #jaskier the bard

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zettatoad · 2 years ago

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rating every kirby villain-turned-ally by how evil they are after becoming an ally

dedede: gotta start with the classic. if he were an actual king i might have to judge him for the sins of his ancestors but since he's consistently called a "self-proclaimed king" he's fine. he probably just found an abandoned castle and went "woah... my castle now" and then the waddle dees went "wait we have a king? that's so awesome i'm gonna follow this guy forever." anyways he's a rival and a selfish hedonist but not actually evil. arguably not ever evil but that's a philosophical debate i'm not going to get into. while not the first to help, and still sometimes a troublemaker, he's a dependable companion when it counts

meta knight: look he was attacking dreamland in revenge of meta knight for, reasons??? because he thought they were too lazy??? kind of a lame reason meta knight. the point is he counts. meta knight spends most of his time as an honorable fight seeker, like if vegeta was never evil and his goku was a baby, but he'll step up to the plate when it's time to protect the planet or whatever. he is certified Not Evil. a reliable ally whenever he shows up

dyna blade: that's right, dyna blade counts too. as we all know dyna blade was just trying to feed her kids in super star. beyond that, i believe birds are like ghosts and just sort of do things arbitrarily. rating: Not Ever Evil

marx: okay this freaking guy. i don't think marx has changed literally at all after being beaten by kirby. like in star allies he's still got his powers. the only lesson he learned is to not pull any shenanigans while kirby's around. he is probably waiting for a villain to actually defeat kirby so he can swoop in and steal all their power, and every time kirby beats some horrible god he goes "wow~ you're such a great hero, kirby~!" while being more mad than anyone has ever been

shadow kirby: hold on i'm checking the wikirby page because i needed a refresher on his lore and was reminded that he was never actually a villain in the first place. he was always helping out. my bad

dark meta knight: okay i gotta show everyone this image before i begin my analysis

look at him. he is full fist gripping that crayon. he is holding it like a child would. he's drawing his cool badass epic sword. he's having fun. he seems like he's a threatening villain ("what if meta knight were evil... that would be so sick and twisted") but really he does not know a single thing. it's gap moe

this may be controversial but my rating is: he was never actually evil in the first place. like, he was serving dark mind, and might have had some influence in turning sectonia evil and huge (maybe??? possibly???), but he is not evil. i think he's more like that one image where he doesn't have empathy and goes into a dissociative state and commits atrocities. this of course does not imply that he is good. but the potential is there

daroach: on one hand, daroach was kind of never actually evil, since all he did was steal a slice of cake and get mind controlled. on the other hand, he IS the leader of a gang of thieves, and stealing is sort of evil. like marx, he has clearly learned not to get on kirby's bad side and will help out on occasion. but if kirby needs to grab a treasure i doubt daroach would hesitate to take it first. all in all: not a good guy exactly but in the grand scheme of kirby villains, he's pretty small-scale. not much to worry about. he can't even destroy a planet

bandana waddle dee: thought i was done talking about characters who briefly opposed kirby during super star? think again. this guy's pretty much just loyal to dedede with all that entails but he seems to have a better relationship with kirby than his king does. a nice guy who likes to help out. we all love him

magolor: i've 100% completed the magolor epilogue and minimal spoilers here but that basically confirms that he's still a little bastard. like he seems to have gone "wait, losing all your friends because you betrayed them sucks," and if you want to get speculative he could have been influenced by the master crown a bit since before KRtD's opening and that might have upped his evil rating for that game. outside of that he learned nothing. he just decided that selling gem apples and running theme parks would be more fun. he loves making an attraction where close friends throw explosives at each other. his continued pseudovillainy is of course obvious, given that he has performed the most dastardly deed of all kirby characters: Selling Real-World Microtransactions. perhaps it would be better if he got defeated once and for all but unfortunately evil wizards give kirbies lots of enrichment. unless he teams up with marx and ends up in some sort of betray-off, we're stuck with him. to be clear i think he's awesome except the microtransactions

taranza: on one hand, even in triple deluxe he wasn't exactly evil, he just wanted to help out his huge, evil friend. on the other hand, kirby did kind of kill his friend. like there were some circumstances there but it'd be understandable if there was some resentment

claycia: does it count if she was only a villain because she was mind controlled and is only an ally during the final boss fight and ending of her game? i'm going to say yes because i've already included bandana waddle dee. obviously if you were being mind controlled you probably were never evil in the first place. but we don't know much about claycia's inner life. it could go either way

hold on i was on claycia's wikirby page and i noticed that drawcia shows up alongside her in some illustrations: i've played it pretty fast and loose with my criteria but i'm going to say this doesn't count as being a villain-turned-ally. documenting my process

^one of the images in question. sectonia is also there and not only has she also never been on kirby's side in a video game, i'm pretty sure she died. so this is debatably canon at best

back to your regularly scheduled programming, it's susie: susie is like. still a capitalist. i had to review her star allies pause screens and apparently she wants to bring back her dad's evil company and keep doing colonialism? like come on susie don't be this dumb. don't make kirby take you to the guillotine

addendum: kirby-polis pointed out in the tags that the original japanese star allies pause screens do not reference mechanizing planets which opens the much more sensible possibility that she went "i want to make this company be how it was before my dad got thralled by a big evil computer." but said original pause screen text also quotes her saying "i will exterminate the uncivilized." which is... questionable at best. updated verdict: susie will be spared for now but she maybe still has some learning to do

the three mage-sisters and hyness: i guess technically hyness hasn't helped kirby out yet but he's part of the package. we do not get a great deal of insight on what the lower-end believers of their religion are like so i'm optimistic about the possibility that the whole "reviving an ancient god of destruction" incident will result in religious reforms, where the sisters take on leadership positions while hyness is reduced to having more of a figurehead role where he can't revive any more ancient gods of destruction. but they might not do that and instead continue being a weird evil cult. hard to say

the beast pack: the beast pack was only being evil because their leader was mind controlled, and presumably they would feel a great debt to kirby for saving both him and their planet. but they're also a rowdy bunch. i wouldn't be surprised if they went and caused a ruckus

elfilin: hey, wait a minute! you're not a villain! you're just a little guy! you don't belong in this list! get out of here, you scamp!

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project-do-over · 3 months ago

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Violet_M00n is available

Violet_M00n: Heyyy sorry for the delay! Got caught up with work stuff...

Bookwyrm1982: literally no time has passed.

Violet_M00n: Right. Right. Habit, I guess.

Violet_M00n: Anyway, what else did you want to know about the future?

Bookwyrm1982: Well you said you had AI, right?

Violet_M00n: Well... Yes and no. We have programs people *call* "AI", but they're really just advanced machine learning. They can't actually think or anything, but they can put together a surprisingly human sounding sentence, and draw things that could at first be mistaken for art.

Violet_M00n: But of course it's awful. The results are full of factual errors or have way, way too many fingers, companies are trying to use it to replace creatives, and it burns a ton of energy doing essential nothing of value.

Violet_M00n: So could you go on ChatGPT and talk to a convincing facsimile of a human but underneath it's just a more advanced version of Dr. SBAITSO.

Bookwyrm1982: that's a shame. But then again at least you don't have to worry about them taking over the world, right?

Violet_M00n: Luna, at this point I'd welcome our robot overlords. Better than the fucks we have running things these days.

Bookwyrm1982: Are things that bad?

Violet_M00n: *sighs* no, I suppose not. I still have a job, a family, I can exist in public without fearing persecution, and I'm mostly free to do as I please.

Violet_M00n: But trust me when I say the people who very much want to take that away have much more power than feels comfortable.

Bookwyrm1982: that sounds scary though.

Violet_M00n: More enraging than scary, really. Just so many people who can't or don't want to see things from anyone's point of view from their own.

Violet_M00n: Well, that, and capitalism.

Bookwyrm1982: I thought capitalism was good though?

Violet_M00n: *sigh* we have so much to learn.

Violet_M00n: Honestly though, and you should be able to find these online if not in the library, but read some Marx.

Violet_M00n: It may not resonate a lot yet, but it will.

Bookwyrm1982: I always thought that Communism was a good idea in theory but it needed a global revolution to actually work.

Violet_M00n: You may be on to something there. And someday, hopefully in our lifetime, we may get there. But it's a long, long road. Especially here in America, where it's been used as a boogeyman for like 80 years now.

Violet_M00n: (55 for you)

Bookwyrm1982: Wow, that's.... I'm not sure I want to grow up now.

Violet_M00n: Well maybe your timeline will invent actual time travel and you can keep that wish. Luna knows I wish I could.

Bookwyrm1982: so

Bookwyrm1982: um

Bookwyrm1982: Can we talk about something more fun? Like, what's something good in your time?

Violet_M00n: Well Magic the Gathering is still pretty good.

Bookwyrm1982: We're still playing? I kinda lost interest and stopped following it a year or two ago.

Violet_M00n: Oh yeah, we're still playing, and the game is... Well, it's way different from your time but also at its heart the same.

Violet_M00n: Like it's still Magic but also there's D&D and cowboys and Gandalf, for some reason. It's cool but it's also kinda scary how much they're pumping out.

Bookwyrm1982: Oh that sounds cool! Is it just D&D and LOTR?

Violet_M00n: They've done a ton of crossovers, they call them "Universes Beyond". They've done, let's see...

Violet_M00n: Dr. Who, Warhammer, Assassin's Creed, Final Fantasy, they're doing Marvel soon, Transformers (those are Hasbro though so they were among the first), The Walking Dead, Fortnite, Stranger Things (you... Don't know about those yet, don't worry), um, lots more stuff too that I'm forgetting, but those are mostly in like five or ten card bundles.

Violet_M00n: Unlike LotR which was a full set, with boosters and everything. And the best selling set of Magic in all time, unless Bloomburrow has passed that already.

Bookwyrm1982: Really cool! You'll have to send me some pictures sometime!

Violet_M00n: I'll be sure to downscale them appropriately this time!

Bookwyrm1982: What else do we like? Is Star Trek still running?

Violet_M00n: It had a long break there where it seemed we weren't going to get any more Star Trek.

Violet_M00n: But then JJ Abrams (a director/producer of some renown) made a Star Trek movie that was meh, but good enough to get people interest in the franchise again.

Violet_M00n: Soon after that Paramount spun up Star Trek Discovery, which had a rocky start but Grew The Beard soon enough for them to greenlight Star Trek Picard. Then Lower Decks, Strange New Worlds, Academy, and probably one or two others I'm forgetting (not to forget Short Treks and Very Short Treks).

Violet_M00n: Prodigy! I forgot Prodigy!

Bookwyrm1982: The online service?

Violet_M00n: No, Star Trek Prodigy. It's a CG animated series for kids made by Nickelodeon.

Bookwyrm1982: You're making that up.

Violet_M00n: I swear, it's true. Lower Decks is animated too, but 2D, and it's for adults and probably the best thing Star Trek has ever created. It's hilarious!

Violet_M00n: SNW follows Captain Pike on the 1701

Bookwyrm1982: And Discovery?

Violet_M00n: Complicated! It starts out pre-TOS but... Spoilers! And Picard is... Also here!

Bookwyrm1982: Is that about young Picard or something?

Violet_M00n: Old Picard, but close.

Bookwyrm1982: Hey my mom... our mom... just told me to get off the computer so

Bookwyrm1982: ttys!

Violet_M00n: See you in literally no time at all!

Bookwyrm1982 is away

#project do-over #time travel #fiction #chat fic

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allisonperryart · 21 days ago

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Every four years, my birthday ends up on the same stressful week as Election Day, and this year is one of those years. 😓🎂 Do me a favour: if you can, please vote, but also don't stop there 🗳️ For example: check in and support your local community, deliver groceries to disabled/elderly neighbours, look into how to start a tenant union, find and join a local political organization, volunteer or donate to an advocacy group, take an organizer training course to unionize your workplace, join a picket line, use your privilege to speak up for and amplify marginalized voices, donate to Palestinian relief funds and other mutual aid, mask in shared spaces to protect yourself and the immunocompromised, read Marx and other leftist political theory, take some time to listen to and/or educate a friend or family member, and be ready to hold whoever you vote for accountable for the things you want our leaders to do. Voting is important, but it's also just the tip of the iceberg of political action. 🙋‍♀️ Remember: you can start small - doing something is better than doing nothing, and many hands make light work. 🙌 Going to be taking a week or two off of posting not just to (try to) enjoy my birthday, but also because I (like many others, I'm sure) am anxious and exhausted, and there're more important things to worry about right now than posting art online. 😅 Thanks for understanding - catch y'all on the flipside! 🙏💖💖💖

#election #politics #usa #america #democracy #voting #elections #election 2024 #vote #birthday #update #I voted #election day #election day 2024 #november #get out and vote #president

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caendtowntrash · 2 years ago

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Is there any hope for Endtown? Aaron seems to be somewhat worried about the floundering state of his Patreon, and the rumors of two major arcana being Endtown focused makes me think he, at least in some level, realizes he has to right the ship somehow. I feel like this arc might be his final indulgence into Marx wankery, killing Eye, and resetting the universe. Maybe that's just me being too hopeful though.

Personally I'm REALLY skeptical.

I've gone over or added to thoughts about how much of a cancer Marx is a few times already so I can keep explaining that facet to a minimum for another difficult angle in the story itself: he's completely annihilated the scope and worse trivialized any reason for investment in the actual characters. Think about it for a second: there's an established multiverse where copies of the main characters exist at any point of their lifespan, from start to finish, and can be accessed by Marx at any point to do anything to them. Someone dies? Replace them! It's that easy! Why does anyone have to be invested anymore if Aaron already established that Cardoodle hybrids are quite literally stupid and shallow people, Topsiders cannot 'cure' the mutation phenomenon or make it stop and thus will spitefully persist as humanity's rage as it dies or become inhuman mockeries that will kill and eat each other at a drop of a hat, and Marx caused this unnatural existence for unknown but frankly no good reason at this point. He just subjected inhabitants of a doomed world to live in a suffering hell and keeps doing it. And why should the audience care about anything when Aaron seemingly doesn't? The whole Benny situation unfolding right now was long overdue and feels more like he finally remembered that was the driving force behind the conflict for half of the Eden storyline he never resolved, and the resolution is Marx constantly mocking and chiding Duffy for having real human emotions and wants in a storyline that doesn't give a fuck. And that's the rub: the undercurrent of how the drama and stakes for the characters we're supposed to be invested in is a joke to Marx for him to fart on and dismiss despite the bones of Endtown being BUILT on the characters as well as their struggles and the drama of their lives in this world. If he were in any way planning on changing course it would have happened already, but the latest update alone is proof that isn't the case. He's still shitting on the characters for their feelings while simultaneously drawing them in emotional agony. With that kind of poisonous mindset how can any return to Endtown be positive when we last left Endtown at its most dramatic and lowest? With his track record I almost anticipate a soft retcon of what likely would develop after Pig Arc, same as what happened after Milk Trial, and that's being generous. Hope is if he finally establishes under no uncertain terms that Marx is a villain and the characters have to escape or conquer him somehow, until we see acknowledgements for that then just enjoy watching the fire burn, I know I am.

#endtown #critanon #Aaron Marx #Eden Arc

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motownfiction · 1 year ago

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autumn magic

Lucy has always been in love with the summertime.

The days are longer, the clothes are sweeter, and everyday tastes like hot buttered popcorn and chilled lemonade. Anything can happen when the air is warm. Trips to 7-Eleven feel like adventures when the sun doesn’t leave the sky until half past nine. Endless time. That’s how it feels, and it’s what she loves.

She never gave much thought to her wedding when she was a little girl. She thought she’d probably be married because most people are, but she didn’t think about how it would look or when it would be unless Sadie was asking her directly. So, Lucy figured she’d just get married in June, her favorite month of the year, when the sun is friendly again, and the days are learning how to be themselves. She probably wouldn’t have minded a lemonade stand somewhere at the party, either.

But that was a long time ago. Last November, Lucy Callaghan married Will O’Connor at city hall in the middle of fall. Now, one year later, they have a baby girl and an anniversary to celebrate.

Lucy’s parents are looking after Elenore tonight. Of course, Lucy thinks it’s absurd, but she follows Will on the outing he planned, anyway.

“We don’t deserve to celebrate an anniversary like a normal couple,” she says as she climbs into the front seat of Will’s Maverick. “Anniversary celebrations are for people who do it right. High school, college, marriage, baby. Not … the reverse.”

“It’s not the total reverse,” Will says. “If somebody went to college before they went to high school, I’d be pretty impressed.”

“And disgusted. If you’d spent four years learning about Shakespeare, Jung, and Marx, would you really want to go back and worry about who was going to get the crown for Homecoming Queen?”

Will smiles. He turns the key in the ignition, and the radio comes right on. It’s never off – just sleeping.

You ask me if there’ll come a time / when I grow tired of you / Never, my love / Never my love …

Lucy sighs. She puts her hand on Will’s knee as he drives away.

“So,” she says, “are you gonna tell me where we’re going? Or am I going to have to guess? Which I’m very good at?”

“You’re not as good at guessing as you think.”

“I’m extremely good at guessing.”

“Yeah, but only after you get the most outrageous guesses out of the way.”

“It’s a strategy. Who the fuck are you to tell me it’s not a good one?”

“I don’t know. Thought I was your husband.”

Lucy sighs. Sometimes, she almost forgets – not that Will is her husband, exactly, but that he loves her. That he’s not actually trying to make fun of her, that he’s not some elaborate prank.

“Sorry,” she says. “Should I just … should I be surprised?”

“Nah, it’s OK,” Will says. “I thought I’d take you on a drive through Irish Hills to look at the leaves. I know they’re mostly on the ground by now, but it’s still pretty. Like you.”

Lucy tries not to blush. She tightens her grip on Will’s knee, and she feels him turn red instead of her.

“Gettin’ ahead of yourself there,” Will says.

“Am I?”

Will laughs and clears his throat at the same time, which Lucy previously would have thought was impossible. She doesn’t keep her eyes off him on the drive – not for one second. When they finally pull over, neither of them says a word to the other. Will just grabs Lucy around the waist and kisses her like he means it. She kisses him back harder, to prove she means it even more. She feels him smile against her lips, and there is nothing better. The red leaves fall down around their car, and she can still hear the radio as Will lies her down in the back of the car. Van Morrison, “And It Stoned Me.” She never thought of it as that kind of love song before, but from now on, she knows she’ll think of Will whenever she hears it.

Lucy has always been in love with the summertime.

But today – just today – she’ll take a little bit of autumn magic.

(part of @nosebleedclub november challenge -- day 11! i hate that i'm behind on this one, since it would have been nice to post it on 11/11 -- lucy and will's in-universe wedding anniversary 😭)

#drabble #writeblr #ch: lucy callaghan #ch: will o'connor #ship: c'est la vie say the old folks #year: 1984

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stonewallsposts · 1 year ago

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Political Compass Test

This is the political compass test.

The description below is from the website.

Please note that this isn’t a survey, and these aren’t questions. They’re propositions. To question the logic of individual ones that irritate you is to miss the point. Some propositions are extreme, and some are moderate. That’s how we can show you whether you lean towards extremism or moderation on the Compass. Your responses should not be overthought. Some of them are intentionally vague. Their purpose is to trigger reactions in the mind, measuring feelings and prejudices rather than detailed opinions on policy.

The survey statements are written in italics. The agreement spectrum responses are after in capital letters. SD strongly disagree, D disagree, A agree, SA strongly agree

On many of these I wrote my response as to why I answered the way I did. On some I didn't feel like it needed a response.

Page 1- Just a few propositions to start with, concerning — no less — how you see the country and the world.

If economic globalisation is inevitable, it should primarily serve humanity rather than the interests of trans-national corporations. A

I’d always support my country, whether it was right or wrong. D

I'd hope I have principles that I live by, and that when those principles are violated, I would stand by the principle, rather than the actor.

No one chooses their country of birth, so it’s foolish to be proud of it. D

I get the logic here, but I don't know why a person shouldn't be proud of where they are from. But of course it also depends on how far you take that. I'm American and Sicilian. I'm genuinely proud of some things America has done. I'm also proud of the Sicilian heritage. It's cool to read of places where my ancestors were from in works from thousands of years ago. What does the founding of America, and the things that happened in Sicily mean for me as a human? Not much. I'm still just me and I'll have to make my way through the world on my own merits.

Our race has many superior qualities, compared with other races. D

No. It's not a matter of race. I do believe certain cultures are superior to other cultures. But that isn't divided along racial lines. In fact, a superior culture can be multi-racial.

The enemy of my enemy is my friend. D

I have principles that I want to live by. If I have an enemy, it would be someone who perhaps hates those principles. A third person who hates my enemy may still not accept my principles, and therefore not someone I want to align with. They may be my friend, but they are not necessarily so.

Military action that defies international law is sometimes justified. A

Agreed. International laws are made by people. If those people's principles don't align with what is morally right, they may sanction something that is morally wrong. In which case, I don't have any problem with a military intervention that contradicts a morally deficient law, even when supported by a majority. I realize this is tricky, and there is wisdom in trying to seek redress through the established channels. And I'm not advocating a military adventure every time. I just don’t want to rule it out. I think it could be sometimes justified.

There is now a worrying fusion of information and entertainment. A

I don't necessarily have a problem with fusing information and entertainment; that probably should be done at some level so the information isn't so dry as to be ignored. But entertainment can be used to obfuscate information... and it probably is being used that way currently.

Page 2- Now, the economy. We're talking attitudes here, not the FTSE index

People are ultimately divided more by class than by nationality. D

Wrong. This is a fundamental mistake Marx made in his internationalism. Poor people in America will identify more with upper class people in America more than with a poor person in Vietnam. American's still share the same language, culture, food, etc. The fascists actually got this correct when they sought to align people along national consciousness rather than Marx's class consciousness.

Controlling inflation is more important than controlling unemployment. D

This is a trick question for me. I don't believe the government ought to be controlling either. A properly working free-market will adjust itself to control both those things. So I disagree not because I think controlling unemployment is more important, but because trying to control either with anything other than the free-market is a problem.

Because corporations cannot be trusted to voluntarily protect the environment, they require regulation. A

While I like free-markets, they require a set of rules and a referee. this is an area where a referee must step in, and the only referee would be the government.

“from each according to his ability, to each according to his need” is a fundamentally good idea. SD

One of Marx's axioms, and absolutely wrong. It sounds good in principle and turns out to be deadly in practice. It is dependent on humans fundamentally changing their nature from self-interested to community minded. When the Bolsheviks engaged in actually implementing this, Lenin decreed that it would take an iron fist to people's heads for an undetermined amount of time to change them. In fact, he said the communists couldn’t promise the change would take place, but they knew it was a goal towards which they were working. The only thing he could promise was the iron fist. They killed millions in the pursuit of this noble-sounding goal.

The freer the market, the freer the people. A

Yes.

It’s a sad reflection on our society that something as basic as drinking water is now a bottled, branded consumer product. D

It is no reflection on our society whatsoever. Drinking water is also available for free from the tap.

Land shouldn’t be a commodity to be bought and sold. SD

Another Marxist belief. Of course, he took it further to say that there should be no private property whatsoever. But it turns out that if people have no hope of ever improving their lot, they give up trying at all. My own view is that justice is a state of affairs that allows people to enjoy the fruits of their labor, and a fundamental part of that is the ability to own a plot of land and work it to produce fruits of your labor.

It is regrettable that many personal fortunes are made by people who simply manipulate money and contribute nothing to their society. A

I can agree that it's regrettable. I don't think we can regulate it out, but it would certainly be better to reward people for contributing.

Protectionism is sometimes necessary in trade. A

I'm against protectionism in general, but there may be times when the principle is being violated by another side that would merit reciprocal action.

The only social responsibility of a company should be to deliver a profit to its shareholders. D

There is an argument to made for this, but I'm not going to subscribe to it. I think companies do have a responsibility to do what they do without offloading negative consequences to the public.

The rich are too highly taxed. A

I agree that their rates are too high. I can't say, because I don't know, about how much they are actually paying. There are all kinds of tax write-offs, and I'm ignorant about the reasons those exist, or for what reasons they were implemented in the first place, so I can't say whether it would be better to remove them or not.

Those with the ability to pay should have access to higher standards of medical care. A

This sounds like I mean poor people should get less because they are poor. But because I believe in a free market, I believe health care should be removed from insurance and any government intervention. In that case, naturally, those who can pay more will have access to better care. On the flip side, it should bring the cost of care down across the board. But that would never result in absolute equality of care.

Governments should penalise businesses that mislead the public. A

A genuine free market requires restrictions on the ability of predator multinationals to create monopolies. A

Yes. A free-market still requires rules of fairness and a referee, and the only possible referee is the government.

Page 3- Now a look at some of your personal social values …

Abortion, when the woman’s life is not threatened, should always be illegal. D

While I'm against abortion, I would always choose the life of the mother. In general, I agree with the statement, but there may be other reasons and I don't want to preclude them.

All authority should be questioned. A

An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. D

This is a proposition for proportional response. And in general, I agree with proportional responses to injustice. But there may be occasions where mercy should be shown and I think we need to leave these cases up to humans to make judgment calls.

Taxpayers should not be expected to prop up any theatres or museums that cannot survive on a commercial basis. D

Taxpayer support for cultural institutions is a benefit for all. I am in favor of their support.

Schools should not make classroom attendance compulsory. D

I'm not sure who would attend if it weren't compulsory.

All people have their rights, but it is better for all of us that different sorts of people should keep to their own kind. D

In general, I think we're better off being exposed to different ideas. It broadens our understanding of life.

Good parents sometimes have to spank their children. A

It’s natural for children to keep some secrets from their parents. A

Possessing marijuana for personal use should not be a criminal offence. A

The prime function of schooling should be to equip the future generation to find jobs. D

I think the prime function of schooling should be to equip the future generation to develop their thinking across a broad spectrum of life. Apprenticing junior to a trade will equip him for work, but we wanted to move away from condemning classes to only certain types of work. A general education is how we open up doors to different areas.

People with serious inheritable disabilities should not be allowed to reproduce. D

The most important thing for children to learn is to accept discipline. D

It's important that kids learn to accept discipline, but it's not the most important thing.

There are no savage and civilised peoples; there are only different cultures. A

I agreed with this, but there are certainly cultures that are better than others. I don't feel like I can support the 'savage' v 'civilized' dichotomy proposed. There are certainly 'civilized' cultures that I don't want anything to do with.

Those who are able to work, and refuse the opportunity, should not expect society’s support. SA

When you are troubled, it’s better not to think about it, but to keep busy with more cheerful things. A

In general, I agree because I think getting your mind off your troubles will help you.

First-generation immigrants can never be fully integrated within their new country. D

It's tough for adults to fully integrate, because they come with fully formed cultural ideas from the old country. But if they come with the desire to integrate, they can. Children coming will, on the other hand, end up fully integrated.

What’s good for the most successful corporations is always, ultimately, good for all of us. D

This one is worded in a way that I can't really agree with. What's "good" for the corporation anyway?

But in another sense, if we, the consumers, vote with our dollars to support that corporation and make it successful, then the corporation aligns with our values.

But there can be examples of crony capitalism that give corporations success, that isn't necessarily good for all of us.

No broadcasting institution, however independent its content, should receive public funding. A

Not a fan of this, which I see as different from museums and parks etc.

Page 4- … and how you see the wider society.

Our civil liberties are being excessively curbed in the name of counter-terrorism. D

I gotta admit, I don't feel qualified to answer this, but I disagreed because I can't really think of a way in which I ever notice any curb, so I suppose I can't agree that my civil liberties are being 'excessively' curbed.

A significant advantage of a one-party state is that it avoids all the arguments that delay progress in a democratic political system. SD

Bogus wording. While it is true that a significant advantage to a one party state is that it avoids arguments that delay.... implementation of that parties strategies... it may not be 'progress' at all, and it certainly isn't democratic.

Although the electronic age makes official surveillance easier, only wrongdoers need to be worried. D

The problem with this statement is: who is going to decide what constitutes 'wrongdoing'. It establishes a turn-key authoritarian state, whereby any actions decided in the future as wrongdoing can be retroactively scraped to identify enemies of the state.

The death penalty should be an option for the most serious crimes. SA

In a civilised society, one must always have people above to be obeyed and people below to be commanded. A

Ah, if only we could all get along without any kind of government. But our collective experience is that as soon as we congregate, the various individual ideas begin to step on the toes of others. This requires a government to act as a rule maker and arbiter. So there needs to be a law, and police, that are obeyed by the populace. I would disagree if one were to frame this as: there should be a hereditary class of citizens who rule, and another class of citizens who must submit to them.

Abstract art that doesn’t represent anything shouldn’t be considered art at all. SD

My answer is mind your own business.

In criminal justice, punishment should be more important than rehabilitation. A

While the possibility of rehab should be part of the criminal justice system, it's primary function is to remove the threats that criminals hold to society and hold criminals accountable for their action.

It is a waste of time to try to rehabilitate some criminals. A

There will be some who will not respond to rehab efforts. That doesn't mean rehab shouldn't be on the table, just that certainly some will not respond to it.

The businessperson and the manufacturer are more important than the writer and the artist. D

Both are important, in different ways.

Mothers may have careers, but their first duty is to be homemakers. A

I do think that where kids are involved, parents have a duty to the home over career. So while this says 'mothers', I would also apply it to fathers. But on second thought, I perhaps would answer disagree, because the father could be the one who becomes the primary caregiver.

Multinational companies are unethically exploiting the plant genetic resources of developing countries. D

Uh... wut? I'm ignorant about this, so I just put disagree.

Making peace with the establishment is an important aspect of maturity. D

I suppose it depends on the establishment. In general, yeah, but there can be times when it wouldn’t be. I wouldn't have wanted to make peace with Communist Russia or Nazi Germany at citizens of either.

Page 5- If you got through that okay, you'll find these propositions on religion a breeze.

Astrology accurately explains many things. SD

You cannot be moral without being religious. D

I think christianity has been the driver of morality in the west, and people in the west will operate, consciously or unconsciously on those assumptions even when they no longer subscribe to the religion.

Charity is better than social security as a means of helping the genuinely disadvantaged. A

I think it's better in principle- because it more directly connects humans with other humans. I don't know if it's more effective.

Some people are naturally unlucky. D

Perhaps on an individual level, there are some people who suffer through an inordinate amount of 'bad luck'. Something about the question feels off to me though, and it's of course difficult for anyone to self-analyze the difference between bad luck and consequences. In general, 'luck' will even out over time and populations, but at the individual level, given that luck, by definition, is something that happens randomly, it's probable that there are cases where individuals suffer from an imbalance of poor luck.

It is important that my child’s school instills religious values. D

Nope.

Page 6- Finally, a look at sex.

Sex outside marriage is usually immoral. A

A same sex couple in a stable, loving relationship should not be excluded from the possibility of child adoption. D

I know same sex couples exist, but I don't think their relationships are marriage material and I don't think they ought to have children.

Pornography, depicting consenting adults, should be legal for the adult population. D

I wrestled over this. On one hand, I want to leave people alone even if I don't agree with them. But there are things we recognize as having societal repercussions, and I think this is an area that I'm growing more comfortable in regulating. I think the downstream effects of this on the population have gone beyond just people enjoying themselves in the privacy of their own homes. What could we practically do? I'm not sure it's possible to do anything.

What goes on in a private bedroom between consenting adults is no business of the state. SA

No one can feel naturally homosexual. D

These days openness about sex has gone too far. D

The political compass defines the spectrums as right and left in economic terms, and authoritarian and libertarian in social terms

0 notes

merinsedai · 9 months ago

Text

Chapter 13: The consequences of political shenanigans

“How dare you?! How dare you disobey me in this way!” Chronos roars, stomping back and forth across Morpheus’s floor in a towering rage. Morpheus sits tiredly on his bed, his head still throbbing and worry for Hob twisting his stomach. Aponoia sits next to him, a solid and for once comforting presence. She has not said ‘I told you so.’ Had not even implied it, and he is grateful to her. Desire lounges against one of the bedposts, looking avid, and Lady Nyx has perched herself at his vanity, her eyes tracking his husband’s movements and her lips pressed tightly in disapproval.

“Papa, I'm sure…” Aponoia starts quietly, but Chronos steamrolls right over her.

“Are you so knowledgeable about the great world that you think you can just do as you please with no consequence?!” He grabs one of the books from the desk and hurls it against the wall, the loud thunk making everyone jump.

“Did I go to bed and wake up with you Lord and master here, to make rules as you see fit?! Am I so unrespected in this house that my instructions are to be set as nothing?!”

Morpheus winces as the force of his father’s anger, the burning scent of his fury, washes over him. He pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head silently.

“What, nothing to say, Morpheus?” Chronos demands. “Come one, boy. If you can make these decisions you can damn well justify them!”

Morpheus looks up and meets his father’s furious gaze. “I am sorry I disobeyed you, Papa, but I’m interested,” he says quietly but firmly. “I am political. I have opinions.”

“You bloody don’t! You don’t get to have opinions about topics you have no understanding of. What do you know of politics? Of the nuances and machinations of parliament? Nothing!”

“Papa, I-“

“Of course, I blame Gadling,” Chronos does not let Morpheus get a word in, continuing his pacing. The force of his displeasure is almost a physical thing, weighing down on Morpheus. “We had none of this-none!- before he set foot in this house. You should see what he reads- it’s all Marx and Ruskin and John Stuart Mill,” he spits scornfully.

“I suppose you prefer the servants to read only the bible and letters from home?” Morpheus snaps

“Perhaps we should do this in the morning?” Lady Nyx interjects. “Morpheus needs rest and-“

“We’ll damn well do it now!” Chronos interrupts his wife as easily as everyone else. “Bloody socialists, I suppose we should be glad he hasn’t burnt the house down on top of us!”

“Gadling didn’t know anything about it until we arrived there,” Morpheus says urgently. He must deflect this away from Hob, he must. If Hob lost his position due to Morpheus’s decisions he would never forgive himself. And he’d never see Hob again. No, it would not happen. “I asked him to take me to a meeting of my borstal charity. I lied; he did nothing wrong! When he realised what I was doing he tried to get me to leave and I would not; when the rioting started he was the one who got me out!”

“He leaves tonight,” hisses Chronos, turning away.

“If you punish Gadling for my error then I will never speak to you again. Ever,” Morpheus lurches to his feet despite Aponoia’s restraining hand on his arm, facing down his father who swings back round to glare at him.

“Spare me the theatrics!”

“If I wake up tomorrow and Gadling is gone, then I will leave. I swear it,” Morpheus is shaking, he can feel it, but his voice is firm and steely. “You will find that is not only Olethros that can break this family apart.”

Chronos takes a step towards him, face darkening and hands clenching into fists. For one insane moment, Morpheus thinks his father is going to strike him. Then he visibly takes hold of himself, stepping back again and crossing his arms over chest.

“Be very careful, Morpheus,” Chronos says softly. “You are beginning to sound… hysterical. I doubt a return to the Alps is something you would wish for, but it will be arranged if necessary,” he raises his eyebrows meaningfully and Morpheus lowers his gaze. This threat again… he wishes it had no hold over him, but it does. He allows Aponoia to draw him back to sitting on the bed beside her. She grips his hands in hers, running her thumb in soothing circles over his wrists. The exact same gesture he’d used with Hob earlier. He exhales shakily and blinks back tears.

“The chauffeur stays,” Chronos strides towards the door, pausing briefly and looking back warningly at his son. “For now.” He slams the door behind him as he goes.

There is a brief silence before Lady Nyx rises and drifts over to the bed. She kneels before Morpheus and runs deceptively gentle fingers through his hair. “Your health is very important to us, darling,” she coos.

“I am not unwell,” he mutters tiredly.

“But you are emotional, my love. We are just concerned,” his mother murmurs sweetly. “Luckily we are off to London next week, hm? A few weeks of nothing but parties and dancing will set you back to rights. No politics. No worries. We should simply hate to lose you back to Queen Alexandra's but if you are not well…” she continues to stroke his hair in a facsimile of providing comfort whilst letting the threat hang in the air, before leaning forward to press her lips to his cheek. “Goodnight, my darling. Sleep tight.”

—-

London is… endurable. Morpheus stays with his aunt Rosamund, which makes it easier. During the day he gets to visit museums and stroll in the parks. Sometimes they take bread to feed the pigeons. In the evening he puts on his perfectly amenable mask and attends the balls and dinners as requested. He speaks with old friends and acquaintances, learns their news from over the year. He refuses to dance with any of the hopeful alphas but some of them make him smile, at least.

When they arrive back at the height of summer, his father seems to have forgiven, or at least forgotten, about Morpheus’s misdeeds in Ripon. He is all up-in-arms about the news from the continent about the assassination of the Archduke and insistent on having a telephone installed at the Abbey.

“We got used to it down in London; instant news y’see? Who knows what the next few months will bring? Austria won’t get what it wants from Serbia and now Russia’s starting to rumble. So, will you take care of the telephone man?” he says to Mr Greene almost immediately upon their return.

It is by chance that Morpheus overhears the telephone man, Mr Bromidge, bemoaning the fact that he is unable to find a suitable secretary for his expanding business, but Morpheus leaps on that chance to recommend ‘the perfect person for the job.’ He gets Eve to apply and provides the reference, then they wait… and hear nothing.

When Mr Bromidge returns a few weeks later to complete the installation, Morpheus is quick to seek him out.

“Greene said you were here.” he says when he discovers Mr Bromidge supervising his workers in the great hall.

“Ah, just, er, checking that everything's being done right, milord”

“Only we never heard back,” Morpheus says “That is, Miss Dawson never heard back from you. About an interview.”

“Ah, yes, er, we--we got the young lady's letter,” Mr Bromidge says, he puts his hands behind his back and rocks back on his heels.”But the trouble is, she didn't have any experience of hard work that I could tell, so...:”

“Oh, but she's a very hard worker!” Morpheus insists.

Mr Bromidge gives him a speculative look. “Oh, I couldn't find any proof of it. And she gave you as a reference when, er, you don't run a business, milord,” he chuckles slightly. “Well, not that I'm aware of.”

Morpheus purses his lips then turns to catch the arm of a passing housemaid.

“Lily,” he says softly, “Can you find Eve and tell her to come to the hall, now.”

The maid scurries off with a quick “Yes, milord,” and Morpheus turns back to Mr Bromidge who is watching him with interest.

“The reason Eve didn't give any more details is because she works here. As a housemaid,” he admits

Mr Bromidge raises an eyebrow knowingly, “Ah, and you thought that'd put me off?” he continues his round of inspecting his men. Morpheus follows.

“But she's taken a postal course and has good speeds in typing and Pittman shorthand,” he says seriously. “Test her.”

“I will,” Mr Bromidge says. “If I like the look of her.”

Just then, Eve rushes in, stopping short at the sight of Morpheus and Mr Bromidge. She wipes her hands on her apron nervously.

“Ah, so, young lady,” Mr Bromidge says with a smile, “You thought I'd turn up my nose at a housemaid.”

“I did, sir.” Eve says quietly.

“Well, my mother was a housemaid. I've got nothing against housemaids,” Mr Bromidge taps the side of his nose. “They know about hard word and long hours, that's for sure.”

“Well, I believe so, sir.” Eve glances at Morpheus, who nods at her. He catches her scent, she smells of hope.

“Right, well,” says Mr Bromidge, glancing around. “Is there somewhere we could talk?”

“Eve, take Mr Bromidge to the library.” Morpheus says, gesturing to the door. “I'll see no one disturbs you.”

He stands guard outside the library whilst the telephone man and the maid have their talk. When Mr Bromidge leaves the room, it is with a jovial nod; when Eve leaves the room, it is with a bright smile for Morpheus. She still smells of hope.

—

August 4th 1914 is proving to be the finest day of the summer so far. A gentle breeze stops the heat from the sun from being too much and fluffy white clouds drift sedately across the blue sky. It is the annual hospital fundraiser garden party, and the cream of local Yorkshire society has descended upon Downton to enjoy the serene festivities. No one is answering the telephone.

Most everyone is down on the lawn: the gentlefolk schmoozing and the staff serving refreshments. Only some of the kitchen staff remain at the house, still busy preparing hors d’oeuvres and other delicacies. The kitchen staff, and Hob, who wont be needed until called upon to drive some of the guests home later. He is sitting in the servants’ yard, busy polishing the buttons on his chauffeur’s jacket and enjoying the warm sunshine on his back. It is very peaceful, until the telephone blares. Hob can hear its shrill ring from before he even enters the kitchen to find Mrs Patmore and Nuala appearing frozen in place. “Is no one going to answer that?” he says, looking at the two women in confusion.

“I wouldn’t dare,” Mrs Patmore declares fervently. Nuala looks like she wants to cross herself. The telephone had been installed some time ago already, though it rarely rang, and still many of the servants had not got used to the contraption.

Hob is not one of them. He is all for modernity in all its aspects. So he darts into Mr Greene’s study and lifts the receiver to take the call.

“Downton Abbey?” he says. “I’m afraid Mr Greene is unavailable right now; can I take a message?” listening to the reply makes Hob break out into a huge smile. “Thank you!” he says, “Thank you very much, I’ll pass that on! Good day!” hanging up the phone, he darts back out past an astonished Mrs Patmore, pausing only to don his jacket, and sprints towards the garden party. He needs to find Dream and share the good news.

Dream is a picture in navy striped white linen. He is standing under the shade of an awning with his sister, Aponoia, and a couple of young omega acquaintances whom Hob does not recognise. Truly he is the most beautiful man Hob has ever seen; he slows his rush to gain a moment to admire the young lord unseen. He is all elegant lines and fine aristocratic features. Even the look of supreme boredom upon his face makes Hob smile like a man in love.

He is a man in love.

“My lord!” he says, coming up to Dream’s shoulder but not touching him, as is appropriate. “I have news.” He draws Dream away from his companions and imparts his news in a whisper. Hob has the delight of watching the omega’s whole demeanour change, that beautiful honeysuckle scent blooming with his delight and making Hob’s heart beat faster. The shifts are subtle, Dream seems naturally undemonstrative around others, but Hob feels he knows him well and the pleasure is unmistakable to him: that familiar head tilt and the crinkle of his eyes.

“We must tell Eve at once,” he murmurs. He returns briefly to the other omegas, who are giving them curious looks, then strides off determinedly further into the garden to look for Eve. Hob follows.

They find the housemaid just emerging from a serving marquee, a tray loaded with canapes in her arms.

“Eve, a moment,” Dream stops her. “Mr Bromidge has rung; you’ve done it, Eve. You’ve got the job.”

“Oh!” Eve gasps, clearly overcome, she turns and gracelessly pushes her tray into the arms of a passing maid, who takes it with bafflement, before flapping her hands in front of her face, eyes welling up. Caught up in the joy of the moment, she actually launches herself at Hob and Dream, hugging them tightly and bouncing up and down. Pushed together like that, Hob’s hand brushes Dream’s and he takes it, squeezing it firmly. Dream, miraculously, squeezes back and does not let go.

“Something to celebrate?” Cori’s scornful voice makes Eve leap away from them, turning to face him, but she cannot keep the smile from her face.

“Oh, I got the job, Cori! I’m- I’m a secretary! I’ve begun!”

“Well ain't that just dandy. I’m pleased for you, Eve and we will celebrate later, after our work is done.” Cori enunciates each of the words in that sentence pointedly and Eve flushes, sobering.

“Of course, Cori. I’ll just-” with a last joyous grin for Dream and Hob, Eve retakes her drinks tray and dashes off. The happiness is practically radiating off her. Hob feels caught in the moment too. Dream has not let go of his hand, they gaze at each other, replete with their victory.

“I don’t suppose-” Hob begins, reaching up to tug on his ear, but he is interrupted by Cori.

“Lord Morpheus,” the valet drawls, drawing Dream’s attention. He quickly releases Hob’s hand and visibility stiffens up again, that easy posture evaporating instantly. Hob regrets both the loss of contact and the withdrawal. He would see Dream easy always. “Your lady mother was asking for you.”

“Thank you,” Dream says tightly, he gives Hob a small nod and strides back off into the midst of the party, back stiff and straight. Hob watches him go, sighs and turns to leave. Cori catches his arm.

“Be careful, Hob,” he says, uncharacteristically serious. “Or you’ll end up with no job and a broken heart.”

Hob meets his gaze steadily. “I don’t know what you mean,” he says blandly and Cori scoffs.

“Right. You think he gives a fuck about you? About any of us? You know we’re just furniture to them, right? Ignored until needed and then used without thought. Just… don’t be an idiot, Robbie. He ain’t for you. He ain’t for any of us.”

Hob does not do him the courtesy of answering. He knows Dream is not for him, that he is outclassed in every way by this beautiful, gifted, passionate and yes, mercurial young man. But foolish hearts are foolish indeed and they will yearn and they will hope and they will not be told different. So he will continue to yearn and hope and think maybe… just maybe, if he waits long enough, something will change for them.

He turns from Cori without a word and trudges off away from the party, back to the garage and solitude. So it is that he is absent when, but a few minutes later, a telegram arrives for the Earl. A telegram that brings the grim news that England is now at war with Germany. And everything is about to change.—--

Dreamling Abbey

My fic for the @the-centennial-husbands-bigbang !!

No lie, guys: I decided to do this after coming out of a heart scan at the hospital on the sign up deadline. The thinking being: I could have a dicky ticker here, why not try something new? And this was perfect because if there's one thing I know about myself, it's that I need a deadline.

And so here we are.

I am MOST affronted by how hard this was?! And how bloody long it took me (mostly because I spent a lot of time staring into space or relentlessly googling 'did they have xyz in Edwardian England) All you wonderful, talented writers have made it look so easy that all that effort came as somewhat of a shock. Honestly, I am deeply saddened that the copious amount of Dreamling fic I have voraciously consumed in the past 18 months has not magically made a fantastic author out of me. Why does osmosis not work for writing?

If you read, I hope you enjoy!

(The ticker's fine, by the way. Not dicky at all.)

Art by the fabulous @lalaithquetzallicaresi Thanks for squeezing me in there, lovely! ❤

Pairing: Dream/Hob

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 50k

Warnings: Rape/Non-Con elements

Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Downton Abbey Fusion, look it's Downton Abbey but Dreamling omegaverse. Sorta. If you squint, I'm not sure Julian Fellowes would approve, If you haven't seen Downton it definitely won't matter, because I've unashamedly just stolen bits and pieces and thrown the rest to the wind, Attempted Sexual Assault, Rape/Non-con Elements, Non-Consensual Kissing, Pining, period typical attitudes to gender. If you reframe gender to include alpha beta omega dynamics, omega rights paralleling the suffragette movement in England, Minor Violence, lots of vague references to classic cars, mention of unethical medical procedures, Time and Night are bad parents, Omega Dream of the Endless, Alpha Hob Gadling, Hob Gadling Loves Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Dream of the Endless│Morpheus Needs a Hug, Unbeta'd

Read chapter 1 on ao3

Fic Summary: Lord Morpheus is the eldest child of the Earl and Countess of Endless, an ancient family hiding huge debts behind a fine name. As an omega, Morpheus cannot inherit his father's title or the family's ancestral home. His function is simple: secure a match that is both socially advantageous and financially viable, thus securing the future of the estate and the title of Earl of Endless for his offspring. The family believe that their troubles are solved when Morpheus dutifully (if reluctantly) becomes engaged to his wealthy cousin, Patrick. However, all their carefully laid plans are thrown into chaos when Patrick drowns on the ill-fated Titianic.

Now Morpheus is navigating treacherous waters of his own and discovering how tight the ties of family loyalty bind him. Will the charming and handsome Duke of Crowborough prove his saviour? Or will the wealthy yet odious Sir Roderick Burgess ensnare Morpheus in plans of his own?

Meanwhile, the family’s new chauffeur, one Robert Gadling, is muddying the waters of Morpheus’s existence even further- where is the line between a servant and a friend? Can Hob help Morpheus see that life exists beyond the confines of family and function?

Chapters below the cuts and in subsequent reblogs, should you wish to read it here on tumblr.

Chapter 1: Complications with the Great Matter.

April 1912.

The papers had been late this morning. Not that Morpheus notices their tardiness. Serious daily newspapers are the preserve of his father and since Morpheus has little interest in the society gossip that proliferated on the pages of The Daily Sketch, the only periodical he is allowed in his room, he rarely bothers to glance at it. However, the large photograph blazing across the front page is so arresting that he finds his eyes drawn to it immediately, ignoring all else on his vanity to take the paper and read. It is bad news of course, the papers rarely print anything but. ‘DISASTER TO TITANIC ON HER MAIDEN VOYAGE’ boldly proclaims the headline, beneath which is black and white image of the doomed liner, adjoined by one of her seemingly also doomed captain, John Smith. Morpheus’s eyebrows draw down as he reads the brief article: so many presumed dead, so few saved. They would know people, of course. His mother knew the Astors, and they had dined with Lady Rothes only last month. Still, the privilege of first class likely meant they would be amongst the survivors. Those below decks… on their way to a better life, well they would not have been so fortunate. What a tragedy, Morpheus sighs and closes the paper. This news rather put his own woes into perspective-

The door bangs open and Desire flounces in without so much as a by your leave, as is their way.

“Dream!” they shout without preamble, then glance at the newspaper in his hands with a slight moue of disappointment. Being the bearer of bad news is something Desire takes a measure of delight in, “Oh, you’ve seen already, Huh,” They shake their head, before bending over Morpheus to look more closely at his paper, hand gripping his shoulder. This close, the smell of the perfume Desire favours- a rich and spicy aroma deliberately chosen to overwhelm their natural omega scent- makes him wrinkle his nose and move his head away. Desire’s fingers tighten on his shoulder and they huff in amusement. They are not strictly allowed to wear perfumes but Desire goes their own way with everything. “When Jessamy told me, I thought she must have dreamt it!” Desire continues in a low tone, meeting Morpheus’s eyes in the mirror. “To think, we were just talking about that ship the other week. Remember how excited old Lucy Rothes was? Supposed to be unsinkable- ha!”

“Every mountain is unclimbable until they climb, so every ship is unsinkable until it sinks,” Morpheus responds neutrally, putting the paper down and shrugging Desire’s hand off to stand. Desire moves with him, smoothing their hands over the non-existent wrinkles on the shoulder of his jacket before adjusting his already meticulously placed tie pin. Morpheus endures the attention for a moment before once again moving away. He does not enjoy this close scrutiny and Desire knows it, but it is always a delight of theirs to make him feel uncomfortable.

“Hm” Desire hums then shrugs, “Come on, now you’re all sorted, lets go to breakfast. Aponoia said she saw the telegram boy come by. I want to find out if there’s any more news. Won’t it be something if someone truly important drowned? Gossip for weeks.”

***

The papers always print bad news. Of course they do. But that news is viewed through a detached lens. Shocking, of course, but not too close to home. Telegrams though- that’s different. They take that news and make it personal.

Breakfast had proven to be a fraught affair. Their father had been away from the room when they first arrived, speaking with their mother so they were to learn, but he had soon been back and imparted the news of their family’s misfortune to his children with unusual brevity. Then he had left without saying anything further, leaving the three of them to process the news alone: the news that Patrick Endless, their wealthy cousin and Morpheus’s fiance, had been aboard the Titanic with his father, James and neither were listed among the names of the survivors. Morpheus had not felt like eating further and had removed himself back to his rooms with his siblings following uninvited (though not strictly unwanted). He had wanted to think but he also knew the danger of getting lost so deeply in his mind, so Desire’s sniping and Aponoia’s quiet presence would be… grounding.

The stupid thing was that Patrick was not even meant to be on that cursed ship; he and his father weren’t expected in New York until May. Why? He thought Why did they go? And without saying anything? Perhaps Patrick had planned to telegram from New York- a boast and a surprise.

“Turns out that the lure of the Titanic’s maiden voyage was too strong.” Desire says as if reading his mind, and with a hint of mischief in their golden eyes. They lounge dramatically against the doorframe whilst Morpheus stands and stares out of his window, gazing at the grounds below. It all looks so quiet, so normal. Why doesn’t he feel sad? Desire continues, “They wanted to be part of history and now they are history.”

“Desire,” Morpheus chides half heartedly. It is a crass statement but he can’t find it in himself to react more strongly. Maybe they are looking for a reaction from him, or maybe this is now how his sibling processes strong emotions. It certainly seems in character. Aponoia has not yet spoken. She just sits unmoving, staring vacantly ahead, toying with the ring on her finger, turning it over and over. He himself feels oddly disconnected from the news. How is one meant to react upon learning that their intended had been so suddenly and shockingly killed- drowned in the icy waters of the North Atlantic, their frozen corpse not even recovered, just left to sink and rot in the sea. Dream blinks slowly, probably not like this, he thinks vaguely. He feels there should be some weeping and wailing involved at the very least.

But there is only numbness.

***

“Uh, I detest black,” Desire flounces into the room the next morning whilst Morpheus is busy writing in his journal. He enjoys writing, it helps to order his often scattered and rebellious thoughts.

Jessamy, the maid he shares with his siblings, has just finished fixing his hair and is busily setting his bed to rights, plumping the pillows and smoothing the coverlets. Desire regards themself critically in Morpheus’ tall mirror, turning this way and that. Aponoia trails after them silently. She is also dressed in black and it makes her look even more wan and washed out than usual. As for Desire, their outfit may have been the requisite black, but it still looked to Morpheus to be sufficiently rakish as to raise their parents’ blood pressure. Hardly proper mourning material. “At least going into mourning won’t ruin your aesthetic, Dream dear,” Desire stretches languidly and collapses back on the just-made bed, smiling thinly. “Always a silver lining somewhere.”

“Full mourning still seems a lot for a cousin,” Morpheus replies vaguely. He tries to pay little attention to his siblings, bent over his journal and writing quickly. The habit of diary writing was born of necessity: a strategy to help quiet his mind, he’d been told, but now it is a pleasure.

“But not for a fiance,” Aponoia’s voice is quiet. There is no accusation in her tone, only the retelling of fact.

Morpheus huffs slightly. “He was not really a fiance.”

“No? I thought that was what you call a man you’re going to marry?”

“I was only going to marry him if nothing better turned up,” he turns the page and continues writing.

“Morpheus! What a dreadful thing to say!” Desire looks simply delighted. “Poor dear Patrick was absolutely besotted with you. It was quite pathetic to witness really- your indifference and his lovelorn obsessiveness,” they shudder theatrically. “Perhaps it’s a good thing he drowned; saved him from a miserable life with you as husband.”

“You dare suggest I would have been a poor husband to him?” Morpheus demands, slamming his diary closed and rounding on his sibling. Desire shrugs insouciantly, fiddling with a diamond earring.

‘“Well you didn’t love him. Barely liked him. And he wasn’t the cleverest where you were concerned, but he would have seen it sooner or later, and hated you for it. Of course, I could wish an unhappy marriage upon you, dearest brother. But Patrick? He deserved better.”

‘Better?’ Morpheus raises his eyebrows. Desire’s words were often full of spite towards him but this was such a quick switch around from mocking Patrick to defending him. Was there something here he had never seen? Never bothered to look for, in truth. “You would have considered yourself a better prospect, my sibling? Taken what I would have discarded?” He raises his eyebrows in challenge and they glare at each other for a moment, then Desire drops their gaze.

‘Yes,’ they say softly, vulnerability etching their features momentarily. “Would that I were eldest and not… as I am. Then I would have taken him like a shot.”

They stand, shields quickly going back up. “Well,” they sniff pointedly, looking away from Morpheus and towards the door, “It’s not so bad I suppose. Mama says we can go into half mourning next month, then full colour by September. A shame we have to spend the summer so drab- and miss the season down in London!- but at least we’ll be ready for shooting parties in the autumn. Come on Appy, let’s leave his lordship alone. He clearly craves solitude. To think,” they sneer, “and write in his stupid diary.” They flow out the room without a backwards glance, Aponoia dutifully trailing in their wake.

Morpheus sighs and turns back to his journal, opening it and staring at the blank page but not picking his pen back up. Desire and Patrick… not that he thought Patrick had returned any sort of affection to his younger sibling but still, had he really been so blind?

“I was so terribly sorry to hear the news, my lord,” Jessamy offers quietly into the silence of the room as she finishes adjusting his bed again. “You say these things but I know you are sad. Whatever you say.” “You are a dear,” Morpheus murmurs. “But I do not feel as badly as I should. I do not really know… what I feel.” That is probably a bad reflection upon me, he thinks. The truth was that beyond the normal amount of grief that came with the sudden and untimely passing of an acquaintance, Dream felt nothing. Patrick had hardly been a grand passion. They had known each other since childhood but had been thrown together through circumstance rather than any actual attraction and they had barely anything in common. So no, he was not as sad as he should be and that was what was really making him sad. This marriage would have been a thing of duty. Their family was old, old enough indeed to have had plenty of time to rack up considerable debts. A lack of money hidden behind a fine name. Morpheus’ marriage to Patrick would have secured the estate’s future, shored up its ailing finances and kept the title very much in the family. As an omega, Morpheus would never have been able to inherit his father’s title but his children could, if they were alphas. And now, there was no marriage, no money and a very uncertain future ahead of them. Morpheus’s one duty, his one function in society, was to secure a good match and that duty lay so heavily upon his shoulders. If only Olly had stayed- but no, there was no use in dealing in ‘if onlies’. Practicalities only, and practicalities meant marriage. And soon.

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spilledbutter · 2 years ago

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👀 I'm here for leaving a prompt! I'll obviously ask for Jaskel! 😬 And uhm... fake dating and mutual pining bc... ofc, they're idiots in love?? 🥺

ask and you shall receive! up on ao3, too 🙂

part two coming in the next few days! ---- Title: like cardiac arrest (high voltage when we kiss)

----

Summary: Jaskier needs a date, fast. Problem is, dating is harder than it used to be. Luckily, Eskel's willing to help him out.

Or: Two idiots in love think it's a great idea to pretend to date each other. No one is fooled.

Jaskier/Eskel | Rated: M | WC: 2k+ | CW: coarse language, sexual thoughts

----

The idea was absolutely ridiculous. Jaskier had truly outdone himself this time, really.

It had all started with Valdo fucking Marx, because of course it had. The idiot, for all that Jaskier found him lacking, could throw a decent party, and his Yule parties were all the rage. They’d been at a bar together with Essi, Shani, and Priss one evening. During a lull when the ladies had excused themselves to get refills, Valdo had turned to him with a sly smirk on his smarmy face.

“Julian, dear, you are coming to my party this year, right?”

Jaskier had narrowed his eyes at his given name, mistrusting of the other man’s tone for all that the words seemed like an invitation.

“Of course, Valdo, wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he smiled, full of teeth, “Though I expect the caterer this year will actually have taste buds–honestly, Valdo, I don’t know what you were thinking last year. Cocktail wieners? The scandal.”

Valdo stood there fuming silently for a moment before that damned smirk covered his thin lips again.

“Nothing but the best for you, Julian. Though I expect you’ll be bringing a date this year? Your showing last year was so pitiful, really, and I’d hate for you to shame yourself publicly like that again.”

He was referring, of course, to Jaskier’s horrible (but inevitable) break-up with Tess de Stael, his on-again off-again for the last few years. They’d had a record-breaking blow-out the weekend before Valdo’s party, and he’d showed up, alone and bleary-eyed, and gotten drunk out of his damn mind. Tess had showed up fashionably late, a young, handsome reprobate in tow, and had proceeded to suck his face the entire night. Jaskier, in response, had taken an entire bottle of vodka from the bar and holed himself up in a corner, licking his wounds.

He had nothing to say for it now, of course, least of all to Valdo. Dating was… hard. He’d sort of missed the online dating wave while he was with Tess, and since then, every time he opened one of those sites–he became overwhelmed with the repetition and disconnectedness of it all. It was so… detached. He absolutely hated it, hated swiping left and right, being judge, jury, and executioner for the short bio that summarized all that a person was. So he’d stopped that rather quickly, figuring he’d try his luck the old-fashioned way.

It had worked, sort of. He’d met a few lovely people, spent a few lovely nights wrapped up in them (and over them and under them). It never went anywhere, though. He definitely hadn’t met anyone he liked enough to parade in front of his friends–he loved them, truly he did, but they could be a mindless pack of hyenas when they spotted prey. He didn’t want to subject a passing fancy to that.

“Oh? Nothing to say to that, hmm? Don’t worry–I’ll make sure the reservation is for Julian Pankratz, party of one.” Valdo laughed and laughed at his own, shitty joke, and Jaskier was filled with an icy resolve to prove him wrong.

Jaskier straightened his spine and squared his shoulders. He smiled, sweet and demure and menacing, batting his eyelashes at Valdo. “No need, my dear, I have just the person in mind. I know your memory’s fading in your advanced age, so text your planner now and let them know I’ll be needing a plus one.”

Valdo scoffed, but couldn’t hide the intrigued glimmer in his eyes. “Alright then. Just make sure your mystery date actually shows up, and not with another date this time, hmm?”

Jaskier gave him the bird before heading off to the bathroom to panic.

Shit. Now he needed to figure out who the fuck he was bringing.

—-

It was going horribly. A disaster, really.

Jaskier had been to bar after bar, cafe after cafe, movie after restaurant after yoga class and more, all in search of the love of his life. He’d started browsing discount sites, picking up new hobbies in the hopes that he’d meet new people and seem fun and interesting in the process. He’d even gotten desperate enough to reopen his old dating profiles, searching for someone at least passable. For all that Jaskier was flirtatious and outgoing and gregarious, it was extremely hard to find someone he could connect with enough for it all to seem genuine.

It was fucking hard. He was running out of jokes, and get-to-know-you questions, and cute outfits. And patience. If he had to ask one more bland person what their hobbies were or what they would bring to a deserted island he was going to blow his fucking top.

He was running out of time. He only had a month until the party, the bitter November wind a reminder as it blew through the shoved-open door of his favorite local haunt. He was going to look so fucking pathetic if he failed.

He said as much to Eskel through his fingers, head in his hands.

Eskel, his longtime friend from college, had met him for drinks and was currently witness to him being an absolute mess. The other man, in his master’s program at the University of Oxenfurt, didn’t find time to make it out very much. When he did, it was usually with Jaskier or his brothers. Jaskier always tried not to let that get to his head, too prone to being love-drunk and floating on clouds in the other man’s presence as it was.

Eskel–smart, sweet, handsome Eskel–who had always been out of his reach. Eskel, his best friend’s older (“By only a month,” Geralt always eye-rollingly reminded him) brother, who he’d met in freshman year when Geralt had taken his pitiful roommate with a shitty home life back home with him for Thanksgiving. Eskel, who couldn’t seem to help himself from laughing at Jaskier’s jokes even when they weren’t that funny, who came out to Jaskier’s first big gig even when he had his thesis defense the next day, who always, always made time for him. Eskel, the honest-to-gods love of his life–who could never, ever know.

The man in his thoughts heaved a deep sigh, resting a comforting hand on Jaskier’s shoulder. “I don’t know why it even matters, Jask. You hate Valdo Marx. Since when does his opinion mean anything to you?”

Jaskier groaned, not wanting to explain the real reason, the dreary path his thoughts had taken. He dropped his head onto the bar in a true fit of pique, uncaring of the slightly-sticky surface leaving questionable residue on his cheek.

“It’s not that I care about Valdo-fucking-Marx, it’s–it’s the principle of the matter! Tess—” His voice came out more choked than he intended, and he cleared his throat, blinking hard. “Tess was–hard. To move past. I just keep thinking, what if…”

He trailed off, running a frazzled hand through his hair. “What if I can’t find anyone else? What if, as shitty as our relationship was… that’s all I deserve? What if I never find anyone else?”

His voice had gotten quiet, now, the last few words coming out in a whisper. He found he couldn’t look Eskel in the eye, finishing his speech in the rim of his empty cocktail glass. Gods, he really was pathetic.

“Jaskier.”

The voice was warm and smooth like the sweetest mead. He looked up into eyes equally as warm–the color of fresh honeycomb, or the sun on a clear, summer day. Despite his best efforts, his stomach clenched, heart giving an anxious flutter. His friend looked serious, a slight furrow to his brow, as he gazed at Jaskier. It didn’t seem fair, given the conversation they’d been having, that all of this single-minded focus was on him. Melitele, help me, he’s so gorgeous.

“You have to know that’s not true. You deserve the world, Jaskier. I know that… that someone out there sees that.” Eskel swallowed thickly and Jaskier found himself distracted by the bob of his Adam’s apple. Jaskier’s mouth suddenly felt dry, the room too hot. He floundered, just on the wrong side of tipsy, for the right thing to say in response to a confession as earnest as that.

“Well! I’m sure you’re right, Esk, I’m just being silly. And drunk. You know vodka makes me sad.” He laughed at himself, as he always did when he wanted smoke and mirrors, when he needed to disguise the truth. Don’t. Don’t come any closer, I won’t be able to control myself. I’ll say what I really feel for you, what I always have.

Eskel continued staring at him in that quiet, thoughtful way of his. When Jaskier stopped his babbling and returned his eyes to Eskel’s, he noticed the other man seemed to be searching for something in his expression. What, he didn’t know. He must have found it, because eventually, Eskel nodded, seemingly willing to let the subject drop for now.

“Let’s get you home, then. No need to waste your money when you won’t even enjoy it.”

Eskel stood and Jaskier followed him out into the cool, late-autumn night. The air was chilly and the street was wet from a recent rainfall. The streetlights shone brightly above them, making the cobblestones glimmer like jewels. They fell into step beside each other easily as they began the short walk home, Jaskier’s flat on the way to Eskel’s.

It was quiet enough for Jaskier’s drink-addled brain to wander, unavoidably returning to the subject of his date. It wasn’t due to a lack of trying. He’d tried everything he could think of, truly. Maybe… Maybe it wasn’t the right time for him to find someone he really liked, or he surely would have found them already (pesky hidden feelings for Eskel aside). That didn’t change his situation, though. If only there was a way for him to get a date without having to continue like this…

The idea came to him in a bid of drunken genius.

“That’s it!” He stopped in the middle of the street, grinning like a maniac. “Eskel, I’ve finally figured it out, you big, beautiful brute!”

He flew towards Eskel and threw his arms around his neck, pressing a sloppy kiss against his cheek. Eskel, without hesitating, caught him around the waist, a faint dusting of pink rising up his neck. Jaskier was too pleased with himself to notice.

“What, Jask? What did you figure out?”

Jaskier beamed from his place in Eskel’s arms. “I thought I needed to find someone to date seriously, because how else would Valdo and the others believe it was real? But–and hear me out–what if I hired someone instead?”

Eskel looked downright flabbergasted. “You want to hire a date to the party?”

Jaskier was nodding furiously, pacing away from Eskel as he thought. “Yes, I can see it now! I’ll put it on one of the local neighborhood message boards: CUTE SINGLE LUTE PLAYER SEEKS DATE TO TRUMP SWORN ENEMY.” He fanned his hands in front of him with a flourish. “Honestly, how could anyone not want to? The mystery! The intrigue! Me!”

Jaskier had stars in his eyes, thinking he’d finally found a plausible solution to his problem. Surely hiring someone would be much, much easier than finding someone to actually date. Because that was impossible–the closest he’d gotten in the years since he’d met Eskel being Tess. The truth, kept locked in a box deep within his heart, was something he didn’t like looking too closely at. His most closely guarded secret–that he didn’t think anyone would ever mean as much to him as Eskel. That’s why he’d never been able to really commit to another. That’s why he was alone, now, fleshing out this stupid plan. The man before him bested all others, and he didn’t even fucking know it. What an absolute crock.

He felt a hand catch his elbow, pulling him from his musings, and spun around to face his friend. Eskel was… blushing? Now that was unusual. Jaskier took a closer look at him, and, oh, he was definitely flushed, and he wouldn’t meet Jaskier’s eye.

“Esk? What is it?” Jaskier was overcome with immense concern, rarely seeing the other man like this. “Are you feeling okay? I always tell you that you work too hard, you don’t rest enough, you–”

“I could… be your date. If you want.”

Jaskier froze, as still as the dead. There was absolutely no way he’d heard that correctly. No possible fucking way.

Eventually, Jaskier found the strength to croak out, “What?”

Eskel, for his part, flushed even harder. “If you’re going to–hire someone, post it on a message board–it’s not safe, Jaskier. Gods only know what I’d do if anything ever happened to you. I’d rather you were safe. I can just as easily be that person for you–if you’re going to hire someone, anyway.”

Jaskier was struck dumb, mouth hanging open. He idly heard his mother’s voice in the back of his mind, telling him that was a sure way to catch flies.

Eskel continued in a murmur. “Besides, it would probably be easier than with a stranger, since we know each other so well.”

Eskel seemed to realize, belatedly, that Jaskier had yet to respond. He seemed nervous, his fingers twitching, before he moved to rub at his scars–old, worn, faded with time. Still so beautiful. “So, songbird? What do you say?”

Jaskier was stunned. There was no way around it, he was absolutely speechless. Valdo Marx would be cackling if he could see him now.

There was no way he could do this. Eskel made good points, of course he did, he was the smartest person Jaskier had ever fucking met, but Jaskier’s poor fool heart could never last if they did this. Not when faced with a mockery of what he’d always wanted.

And yet… His words from earlier returned, unbidden, to his head. What if... What if this was his only chance? He and Eskel could never be, not really. Eskel was light years away from him, untouchable as a shooting star. Jaskier would rather suck Valdo’s big toe than press his luck and ruin everything he and Eskel had. But if they were “dating”… This could be his one chance to see what being with Eskel would really be like.

He’d wanted him for so, so long. Gods only knew how much he’d wanted. He would be a fool–-to do it, not to do it.

He was trapped in his indecision, but sensing the rapidly rising tension in his friend made up his mind for him. He could never let Eskel think poorly of himself, that it was him, that he was the reason for Jaskier’s hesitation. Even if it was true, in a way, it was nothing like the way Eskel was probably thinking.

Jaskier let out a weary, bone-deep sigh. “...Okay. We’ll do it. But I think we need to come up with some terms. Ground rules.”

Eskel seemed to relax, looking a little lighter, but he still held tension in his shoulders, around his mouth. He looked like he was expecting a blow at any moment. “Okay. Like what?”

“Well… We’ll need this to be believable. You’re right–it’s good we’ve known each other so long, but that might actually make it harder to sell to everyone.” Jaskier rubbed his jaw in thought. “We need a story. For how we got together.”

“Hmmm. How about… after Yenn’s birthday?”

They’d all gone out together, the whole group of them, for Yenn’s thirtieth a few weeks ago. She wanted to greet the new decade with a bang and they’d all gone barhopping together, getting increasingly trashed as the night wore on.

“We could say we went off together. One thing led to another, we confessed our feelings…” He shrugged, like it was nothing, like he wasn’t tearing Jaskier apart with a few simple words. “Seems realistic enough to me.”

Jaskier, heart aching, nodded. “Okay. We’ll also need to–touch. More than we usually do, I think. I’m usually very… affectionate, in relationships, so it’s to be expected.” He cleared his throat, already regretting this, because he was an absolute idiot. “Would you be okay if I held your hand? Gave you a cuddle?”

“You already do those things, Jask, so that’s not even a stretch.”

“What about… if I kissed you?”

That stunning, cherry-red flush was back, high on Eskel’s cheeks, and this time, Jaskier noticed. He was enchanted, unable to look away. So godsdamned lovely.

Eskel seemed embarrassed as he nodded in agreement. “Assumed that would be part of it, anyway. ‘S fine.”

There wasn’t enough air in the world right now. His heart was pounding against his ribs, wanting to fly out of his chest and into the hands of the man before him. An offering on a silver platter–please, I love you, let me be yours.

Jaskier felt like he was dying inside. He smiled, extra bright.

“Okay. We’ll start this weekend.”

(1/2)

#asi writes #prompt fill #jaskel #jaskel fics #jaskier/eskel #jaskier/eskel fics #the witcher #witcher #jaskier x eskel #jaskier x eskel fics #eskel #julian alfred pankratz #witcher fanfiction #jaskier

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desultory-novice · 2 years ago

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It's me ! That Marxolor fan !! I hope you're doing okay !! C: This may seem like a useless ask, but I just hope you're in a good position in life where your biggest worry is about marxolor-- Speaking of, I love the dynamic and idea that Marx is someone who needs a lot of attention and has jealousy issues. But his clinginess can reaaally get to Magolor. He has some undealt trauma and Magolor just. Understands :(

Marxolor Fan...!! :waves:

Thank you so much! To be perfectly honest, work is very draining at the moment (...I think I have a case of burnout...yuck...) which is why my fandom to do list of asks and translations and etc is still so long...!

But speaking of Marxolor, yes! about Marx needing attention! He's a bit ravenous for it! Actually, fufufu, you'll see a lot of that in Ch4. (and 5) of MariPav - and how Magolor learns to handle him! XD

[More MariPav Marxolor talk]

(I'm actually still debating if I want to work the Marx + Kirby childhood friends thing into MariPav because I love it so much. If I do, it's going to be part of a later side-story-esque thing, probably - but you can believe that being forgotten by one of the only people who paid attention to him would influence Marx's need to STAND OUT in the present! Of course, Marx will still have plenty of unresolved troubles even if I end up leaving that plot idea behind...)

For Magolor's part, he definitely gets annoyed at having to wrangle this bite-y gremlin who will knock the non-existent books off his non-existent shelves like a vengeful cat if he goes neglected too long, but as much as Magolor wishes he could live alone, it's just not feasible. (And he doesn’t really want that.)

However, when Marx DOES learn to understand Magolor's needs, and begins to care about them like they were his own... well...!!!

...I was actually JUST working on a complimentary short-story that'll be paired with one of the later chapters that deals with that new understanding they've built, and several times I’ve paused just to think, "...This! Yes!!"

I know this isn't going to make any sense out of context, but what the heck! Have a random chunk of words from said short story! (In brief summary, Magolor gets very sick and Marx needs to do something that could be dangerous and tricky to save him.)

---

[Magolor's POV]

"W-why are you..." the antifebrile was starting to wear off. It must have been, because my hands were shaking and I couldn't hide the quake of my voice, "...going to all these lengths for me?"

Marx set the book down and looked at me. His gaze inescapable. "Because...I don't want you to lose anything else."

My throat felt tight. My chest felt heavy. I would have wrote these off as symptoms of the fever, but the heat gathering in my eye suggested the cause wasn't physical so much as emotional.

When did I...? When did he get to know me so well?

"...Alright." I found myself whispering. And I could find no more reason to complain. No paltry fear of this going wrong could dismantle the resolve in his words.

---

Rgh! Now I wish work would lighten up so I have more time to draw!

#Kirby #Marxolor #MariPav #Totally NOT a useless ask by the way!#Thanks for always giving me a chance to talk about my OTP!#Dess Text Post #Dess Answers Questions #Dess Fanfic

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artistsfuneral · 1 year ago

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The Witcher Scrubs AU 🏥

I know I said this AU is stupidly big and now you may see why, bc this is just me talking about the first few main characters not even the storyline, so: p.2 will be linked here

.🏥.

Jaskier, Priscilla and Valdo are all the new interns, aka JD, Turk and Elliot, but the three of them have all known each other from college and actually applied for KMH (Kaer Morhen Hospital) at the same time in hopes of staying together. All three of them are very close-knit friends, but Priscilla is more of a Mom friend for the group while Jaskier and Valdo have this weird thing going on where their rivalry comes with some heavy sexual tension, meaning during college they've been the on-and-off couple that everyone knew about and surprisingly they're still friends (thanks to Priscilla and their rivalry) but for now they give off heavy “divorced couple” vibes, kind of like Perry and Jordan, but not aaaaas season one toxic. Given is, Valdo will judge and comment on every single thing Jaskier does (especially later when he has a crush on Geralt) and Jaskier will walk around drawing devil horns on every imagine somebody has of Valdo (figuratively and literally).

.🏥.

In the beginning Priscilla would be more of a background-ish supportive character, like I said the Mom friend, who keeps their friend group together, helps Jaskier and Valdo whenever they're troubled, is one of the very few people that isn't immediately scared of Geralt and is usually very level headed (thanks to dealing with her two best friends all the time), even in stressful situations. She will have to go through the usual workplace harassment, being a female doctor and all, for example by patients calling her nurse and wanting a “real” doctor or others telling her she should work less so she can find someone to marry and have kids with.

And although Priscilla usually manages to deal with all of this incredibly professionally, she sometimes gets fed up and just says the darndest, mot scariest things ever. (“Dr. Marx' shift doesn't start until 2pm today and I just can't seem to find any of the male nurses. If you should refuse treatment I can, of course, stand here and wait until someone comes to help us out, but I'm afraid you'll experience cardiac arrest much sooner. Don't worry though, our mortician is male.”) Later on she will have to deal with watching Jaskier and Valdo getting better and better at their job while she starts to struggle in the ICU. As it turns out she's amazing in the ER though. And at the end of the “show” she'd definitely be one of the head doctors in the ER (if that's a thing).

.🏥.

Valdo, much like Jaskier, is one of those rich kids. His grandparents were doctors, his parents were doctors, he is a doctor. He doesn't really have a say in that, but unlike Jaskier, he doesn't mind it that much. He's very easily persuaded by wealth and fame, but he's actually a pretty decent guy underneath his “Daddy's favorite child” persona. He's really smart and has a great eye for figuring out what's wrong with people. But he's very squeamish when it comes to bodily fluids that aren't blood. (It's Geralt's favorite way of punishing him, after he's been an ass.) He will often come off as snobbish, but he honestly just doesn't notice that not everyone grew up with a personal chef. He immediately will know that he said something weird when Priscilla gives him a certain look that he often describes as blank disbelieve. (-_-') Valdo is- Well he's pretty obsessed with Jaskier to be honest. The thing is, Jaskier was his first true love and now he's kinda stuck gatekeeping Jaskier. He doesn't do it intentionally, he's not that much of an ass, it's just kind of part of his perfectionism. Along the lines of “I am perfect at everything I do, but I wasn't good enough to make Jaskier happy, so nobody is good enough for him.” Like I said though, it's very much unintentional and Jaskier has no idea what is going on, but Priscilla watches from afar, shaking her head in disbelieve. (The good thing about Valdo's gatekeeping is, that it has actually protected Jaskier from many stupid mistakes.) This obviously creates a lot of conflict between Jaskier and Valdo (even though they don't fully understand why) and it keeps happening again and again until one day, still at the beginning of Geralt and Jaskier's relationship, when Geralt gets (rightfully) fed up with Valdo's constant bickering. (They're planning on going on a date and when Jaskier asks when/where they're going Geralt will snap at him saying “I don't know, why don't we ask Marx for permission first?!” - “What?” And then Geralt will fall into an angry rant that opens Jaskier's eyes, who then goes to Priscilla who confirms it all and then he will sit down with Valdo and they'll have a long, heart-wrenching talk about it.)

Valdo being somewhat unable to connect with his patients and colleagues on a social level is ironically a really good thing, because while he's definitely not unfriendly, he doesn't take everything to heart. Unlike Jaskier is a lot better at dealing with the fact that they can't always save everyone.

.🏥.

Now Jaskier is obviously our main character, our JD.

As I already said, like Valdo he's one of the rich kids, but he has a way better understanding of the world than Valdo. He's also the oldest sibling and the only boy, meaning he has three younger sisters who he adores. Him becoming a doctor was entirely his parents idea and decision and since becoming a musician was not “acceptable” he kind of went with it, grateful that his parents paid for everything during his college years. In the beginning it really shows that he's not as passionate about this job as some of the others. He's incredibly smart and has absolutely no problem with studying and remembering everything (lucky him) but he's lacking enthusiasm (which is why Geralt initially can't stand him). His first couple of weeks at KMH are very tiring to him. Not because he's messing up a lot of things or isn't brave enough to take action, but because to him it's a very depressing and unfulfilling job and Geralt (and a few other people) seem to be constantly judging and downgrading him. He even thinks of quitting his job altogether, but Priscilla and Valdo stop him. It's only after a particular case where he helps to save the life of a patient he really connected with that he starts to understand how important this job actually is and how much it means. After that he also starts to understand Geralt and his serious attitude a lot better.

He always will have a bit of a problem seeing himself as a doctor, because he initially didn't want to be, but every day he wakes up and tries his best. He's really good at connecting with people, like JD he actually cares for them a lot and will meet many people that'll change his life. He struggles a lot when he isn't able to help someone and sometimes falls a bit too easily into his old “does this even matter?” way of thinking. It gets better with time though, and his friends and his sisters tend to get him out of that particular headspace rather easily. Especially Abby, his youngest. She's 12, like Ciri, a ray of sunshine and plays a big role in his life and kind of idolizes Jaskier a lot. She's rather independent and will visit Jaskier at the hospital or at home whenever she feels like it.

Unlike JD and Perry, Jaskier doesn't really have that much of a mentor, trainee relationship with Geralt, although Jaskier certainly has the same need to prove himself to Geralt. But Jaskier also thinks Geralt is incredibly sexy in his white coat and without it and when he's helping people and when he's arguing with Lambert and when he's berating Jaskier and when- Yeah- Jaskier very quickly develops a huge crush for Geralt after he went through his “do I really want to be a doctor” phase. Doesn't really help that Geralt treats him a bit more kinder after he noticed Jaskier found his will to help others and now sometimes even smiles when Jaskier is in the same room at him!

(and I really want to post this now so I can go watch Haikyuu before bed, so I will add the rest later lol)

#the witcher #artistsfuneral about the witcher #geraskier #witcher scrubs au #jaskier #jaskier the bard #priscilla #valdo marx

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a-wayne-at-heart-too · 5 years ago

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Ask: The 27th of April, the Last (and Long) Part

Bonus Ask:

[Stately Wayne Manor]

Jason: *helping Alfred clear out the dinner table* You think we should’ve asked Harley to stay for dinner?

Alfred: If you wished to see Master Bruce’s hair turn to grey as you ate dessert, I don’t see why not.

Jason: *burps loudly and fans his breath away* Whoops. Sorry, Alf. Just my way of complimenting your cooking.

Alfred: *carrying the dishes to the kitchen* Then perhaps you should come here more often, Master Jason.

Jason: *following Alfred* I'd rather not cause any trouble.

Alfred: *stops in his tracks and turns to face Jason with a stern expression* And you don't think it troubles me that you feel unwelcome here?

Jason: *takes the dishes from Alfred’s hands, sets them on the kitchen island, and pulls him in for a hug* Alf, hey... I didn’t mean it like that. I know you guys care about me, it’s just...

Alfred: *sobbing into Jason's shirt* We've already lost you once... Once is enough, Jason...

Jason: *tightens the hug and gently plants a kiss on top of Alfred’s head* I know, I know... I'm back, Alf. I'm back.

>>> *** <<<

Dick and Barbara: *sitting on the carpeted floor in the study, enjoying the heat from the fireplace in front of them, going through a stack of photo albums*

Dick: *smiling fondly* Wow, these are old-old.... I should probably scan them before they crumble to pieces.

Dick: *stops at a page and points at a picture of Bruce and Jason on a boat, smiling, and holding up a tuna* Check this out, Babs... Aw, I love this one. I had a few days off from work, decided to spend it here. Somehow Jason convinced Bruce to take break from himself and go fishing.

Dick: *talking animatedly* So, there we are on Bruce’s huge fishing boat, the Bat-2-Sea -- And Jason’s starting to get seasick because he’s been hanging out by the edge, waiting for a bite for hours -- The persistence on that kid! -- And he finally gets one! A big one, Babs -- *spreads his arms* -- and it was pulling down hard like you wouldn’t believe, but Jason just wouldn’t let go! -- So Bruce drops the glass of wine he’s holding and runs to grab him --

Barbara: What were you doing?

Dick: Who do you think took the picture? As I was saying -- Bruce, he -- he -- *starts to laugh so hard that he tears up* trips over Jason’s line somehow and falls into the ocean! *slapping-the-floor laughing* The World’s Greatest Detective, in his Batwaders, drenched like a wet bird... *sighs happily* You should’ve seen his face!

Barbara: *turns the page* Oh, I can see it now. Still stone-faced, but wet.

Barbara: *stops at a page and giggles* Aw... Will you look at that?

Dick: *looks at the photo Babs is pointing at and chuckles softly* That’s adorable.

Barbara: Those scaly leotards fit him better than they ever did you, Boy Wonder.

Dick: *smirks* Whatever. But I have to admit, he did look great. He looked really... happy. I wish... I wish I saw more of him in action, you know? *voice breaking* I could’ve maybe trained him the way I did Tim and Damian --

Barbara: *rubs his back comfortingly* Dick...

Jason: *walks into the study* Dickie, I took some of your --

Dick: *clears his throat and wipes his eyes haphazardly* Hey, Little Wing!

Jason: Wait, are those our old family photos?

Barbara: *pats the empty spot beside her* C'mere.

Jason: *sits down and rubs his hands together* Where’s the one where Bruce goes kersplat in the ocean?

Jason: *flips through the pages and grimaces at his photos as Robin* You're not gonna use these to blackmail me, are you?

>>> *** <<<

Duke: *watches as his RPG character explodes for the fifth time in a row and shakes his head* You beat me again! You're so good at this game, man.

Jason: *snorts and puts his controller down* Dude, you weren't even trying. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were letting me win.

Duke: What? Naaaah... That's... Come on, why would I do that?

Jason: *gets up and shrugs, grinning knowingly* I dunno... 'Cause you like seeing me alive?

Duke: Yeah. It’s pretty awesome, actually.

Jason: *offers to bump fists* I gotta pack up. Good game, though. See you around, bro.

Duke: *exploding-fist-bumps with Jason* You too, bro.

Jason: *pats Ace the Bathound’s head as he exits the game room*

>>> *** <<<

Steph: *examining Jason’s face* You look really pale.

Cass: *pointing at various spots on his face* And you have a lot of... scars.

Jason: *sitting on a stool in front of Cass’s vanity dresser, staring at himself in the mirror and absentmindedly running a finger over the shirt-covered scar on his chest* Yeah? That bad, huh?

Steph: *grins* Nothing a little makeup can’t fix.

Jason: *rubbing his chin* You think so? I mean, I just came here to borrow a few weapons from Cass, but if you think I need a makeover...

Steph and Cass: *look at each other and squeal in delight*

>>> *** <<<

Tim: And this *holding up a minuscule gadget between his fingers for Jason to see* generates a force field over your entire body. The more the impact, the greater the energy generated. Schway, huh?

Jason: *nodding his head appreciatively as he takes the gadget and sticks it on the lapel of his leather jacket* Schway.

Tim: *proudly shows Jason a Bat-shaped breastplate * Now, this -- You're gonna love this -- It can turn you invisible to the naked eye for roughly 34.5 seconds, giving you time to do all kinds of offensive or defensive stuff. They won’t know what hit them, Jay. You’re basically gonna be invincible and Joker... Joker, he’s... he’s not... not gonna... *drops the breastplate unceremoniously*

Jason: *places a hand on Tim’s shoulder* Thank you, Timbo. Really. But I'll be fine out there. You don't have to worry about me.

Tim: Yeah? Can you promise me that? Because I don’t think I can live through another one of Bruce's meltdowns.

Jason: *chuckles softly* Aren't they the best?

>>> *** <<<

Jason: *staring at an empty grave layered with concrete in the backyard*

Jason: *rolls his eyes* I know you're there.

Bruce: *comes out of the shadows and stands next to Jason*

Jason: Why'd you keep it?

Bruce: Because I'm a sentimental old fool.

Jason: This is just... creepy. Even for you.

Bruce and Jason: *stare at the empty grave in silence*

Jason: I've forgiven you.

Bruce: *glances at Jason, who could’ve sworn his adoptive father’s eyes were bloodshot*

Jason: You know that, don’t you? I mean, I know we’re always going to disagree about Jok-- about him, and a few other things, but... You’ll always be family, Bruce. My family.

Bruce: *looks at Jason, smiling wearily*

Jason: *grinning back at Bruce*

Bruce: *puts an arm around Jason’s shoulder* Thank you... Son.

Jason: *pulls Bruce in for a tight hug*

Bruce and Jason: ...

Jason: Hey, remember that time you went kersplat in the ocean?

>>> *** <<<

Damian: *knocks softly on Jason's bedroom door* Todd.

Jason: *stuffing a duffel bag with clothes, homemade snacks, and weapons* Hey, kid, come in. I’m just getting my stuff ready --

Damian: These came from Mother. *drops a pile of books on Jason’s old desk*

Jason: *picking one after the other up excitedly* Tolstoy, Machiavelli, Sun Tzu, Shakespeare, Marx... No way...

Damian: They’ve been with me for a while. But since you rarely come over, they’ve been collecting dust and taking up valuable space in my room. -Tt-

Jason: *wiping the dust off with his shirt and hugging each one* She kept them... These were my friends back when I was in the League...

Damian: I didn’t realize we had more in common than just being my Father’s sons.

Jason: Wow. I have no idea how I’m supposed to bring all of these home. I mean, I got here on roller blades, for Bat’s sake --

Damian: *thrusts a piece of paper into Jason’s chest* This is for you.

Jason: *gingerly uncrumples it, revealing a painting of him and Damian*

Jason: *reading the writing in calligraphy underneath* “The Second Chance Robins”... *looks at Damian, feeling the tears well up in his eyes* You made this?

Damian: *looking down at his feet* When it’s my day... M-my d-day... Will you come over, too?

Jason: *gets down on bended knee to be at eye level with his little brother* Hey, buddy, look at me. Damian, look at me. Of course. Listen, we’ll do whatever you want. We’ll, um... We’ll take bad guys down together! Pull pranks on Tim! You name it, I got you.

Damian: Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Todd.

Jason: I promise that I’ll do my best, okay?

Damian: You could stay the night, you know. You’re home anyway.

Jason: *ruffles Damian’s hair and grins* I'd like that. As long as you hang out here with me. And I promise I won't tell anybody because it'll ruin our reputation.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

If truth be told, @wingedskyes , Jason makes himself available on his Death Day. Because even if neither he nor his family and friends mention it, he knows that they need him just as much as he needs them.

Thank you for this Ask. It was both fun and just a tad bit heartbreaking to write.

And thank you, @warrior-of-the-blue-moon , for the nice addition.

See: Part 1, Part 2

#Ask #Bruce Wayne #Richard Grayson #Jason Todd #Timothy Drake #Damian Wayne #Barbara Gordon #Stephanie Brown #Cassandra Cain #Duke Thomas #Alfred Pennyworth #Talia al Ghul #Ace the Bathound

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kisscookin · 3 years ago

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Hi kisscookin, idk what to call you is it alright to call you that? I'm the one who ask you about totalitarian socialism thing btw... so you don't approve it? How abt China right now? They're also kinda.. have the same thing don't you think?

And btw.. I'm not Chinese so don't worry to answer my question if you don't approve it, or if you approve it.. I just want to know what people think abt them..

You can reply in private if you want...

Sorry if I seem to be too obtrusive.. I just.. want someone to talk about deeper things.. like.. my friends are kinda don't really know or don't care abt looking things behind the veil of what usually are known by general masses.. so.. I really want to discuss smt with like minded people..

And also.. I want to be your friend and talk about things.. if you don't mind cause I think you seem to be a nice and well informed person.. hmm. Thankyou.., I hope I hear from you soon! Take care! 💕💕 🍀

hi lovely ♡ actually I'm very happy that you asked me those questions! politics, history and international issues are my cup of tea! I love talking about it and giving everyone random lectures like I'm professor lol (one day I will hehe)

yes, I don't approve totalitarian systems. with authoritative systems.... I don't know, I would argue. but nevertheless I'm big "fan" of democracy.

don't worry, most of my friends also are not interested in such topics. if you want to chat with me more about issues that bother you or interest you, hit me up in DMs!

I've read bunch of books about China, Asian history in XX century, communists, totalitarian systems, especially USSR and Third Reich. also I passed my uni exams with the best grades so I think I possess enough knowledge to answer your question haha 😊

First of all, China is specific and unique in every meaning of this word. even communism there is... not really communism. to discuss China political system, we have to turn back time to overthrowing Qing dynasty, if I'm not wrong. that overthrowing happened in approx. 1920's — at the peak of the bolshevic revolution. bolshevic wanted to take world so badly and expand their sick ideology to every country. they didn't make it on the West side, because Poland stopped them in 1920 — that even is called The Warsaw Battle or The Miracle over the Vistula River in rough translation. the bolshevic started to mix and stir things up on the East side. they started to introduce their ideology step by step in China. that intensified when Joseph Stalin came to power. let's end the thread regarding USSR.

years later, in Chinese revolution (that lasted till 1945), there were two opposing sides. Kuo MinTang (called shortly KMT) and Mao Zedong's partisan army. Mao knew very well that China is indeed super unique country. he deducted that in order to take over China and introduce communism, he has to modify 'original' ideology that was based on Marx and Engels ideas. (btw Marx never worked as worker in factory! Engels was giving money to him and his family lol but Marx still managed to write 1000 pages book about working class. apparently very boring). because at that time China was rather poor, agricultural country, it was impossible to conduct revolution of the prolet. almost no factories as that time. he gained support and power through farmers, peasants, ex soldiers, killers, bandits. the most frustrated and furious group of Chinese people at that time. in big mental shortcut that's how he and his 'staff' came into power. of course KMT lost the battle of China, but its different story.

generally there were some similarities and differences between China People's Republic and rest of communist world back in the day. but differences started appearing more after Mao Zedong's death.

nowadays I would say that China is more authoritative country rather that totalitarian. I know they label themselves as communist country, and there's still only one ruling party, but look at the market — capitalism! stock markets, private property, private businesses, international trade, international investments, etc. everything that I've mentioned defines capitalism! but with the mix of communist party, propaganda, censorship it creates new political system — Chinese system lol but seriously that specific and differential country have to produce specific system, in order to make it work.

even though I 'admire its own uniqueness through diplomat's eyes, its still inhuman political system. free speech right is not followed, Uygur death camps, censorship, inhuman work conditions, air pollution, random rockets in space and more and more.....

I will never approve inhuman, oppressive system, but regarding of Chinese political situation, I don't think it will change in like 50 years. what should happen in order to overthrow ruling party? kinda impossible I guess.....

let me know what you think. feel free to comment I'm curious.

#chinahistory

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ficsandcatsandficsandcats · 5 years ago

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So i know how you love writing for Valdo Marx, and I'm fond of him now as well, and not just cuz he's basically robert sheehan.... anyway...hahaha! how bout a plus size reader x jaskier, either already together or not up to you, and then Valdo is there somewhere. And maybe a bit of feral!jaskier! Thank you as always dear heart hope you're well! 💙💚💙

Fandom: The WitcherPairing: Jaskier x Plus Size ReaderWord Count: 2,941Rating: TTaglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak @whatevermonkey @mynamesoundslikesherlock @magic-multicolored-miracle @writingstudent @mlleecrivaine @coffee-and-stories @ultracolorfulnerdcollection @astouract @your-not-invisible-to-me @kemmastan @mycat-is-mylove @amirahiddleston a/n: Hello dearest. This went in a direction I was not expecting. I hope that you’re ok with how it went. I had fun writing it and hopefully reading it will be enjoyable too.

“Take me through this plan one more time,” Geralt sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“It’s a very simple plan, Geralt. I’m going to escort Y/N to the dance tonight as her wingman, no one we find will be good enough for her because no one on this earth is, I will dance and sing to her and woo her and by the end of the night I will give my big speech about no one being worthy of her but I love her deeply and truly and will spend the rest of my life endeavoring to prove it and she will fall into my arms and the rest is none of your business you cheeky devil,” Jaskier recited. His head was tilted back against the window he perched on, pale blue eyes gazing at the ceiling as if he were watching the scene play out.

“What if she finds someone she fancies,” Geralt asked.

“What?”

Geralt didn’t repeat himself, he just leveled Jaskier with a Look. Jaskier thought over Geralt’s words for a moment, apparently not considering this possible flaw in his plan before now, and then shook his head.

“No, Geralt, don’t be silly. We’ve been traveling with Y/N for months now and no one has even so much as caught her attention a little bit. That’s certainly not going to change now.”

—–

You had to make a change and you had to do it now.

You’d spent months pining after Jaskier, unable to summon the courage to tell him and finding no signs of interest from him. You knew that you could try and force yourself to share those feelings and potentially ruin the friendship, or you could try and move on. The dance seemed the perfect chance and when Jaskier volunteered to help find you a match, well, that was all the answer you needed. You usually dressed to blend in, years of training put into hiding your body or minimizing yourself in any way you could. Tonight, you chose to stand out. First because if you were going to find a new partner you would not waste your time on someone who didn’t see and want all of you. Second because you were feeling a little bold and excited by your choice to pursue someone. The benefit of traveling was that if things went horribly wrong you could just leave the next morning and never return. You hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but the knowledge it could helped bolster your courage. It was gratifying when you saw Jaskier go speechless, mouth agape and sky-blue eyes wider than you’d ever seen them, as you stepped out in the vibrant, emerald green dress. Your hair was plaited back in a simple but attractive way, framing your face in a way that enhanced your looks but did not try to hide its roundness.

“This’ll do then?” you asked teasingly as Jaskier stared at you until Geralt finally thwacked him in the arm to help bring him back to his senses.

“You look absolutely… Geralt I’ve forgotten words oh gods they are my whole livelihood…”

“Don’t be dramatic,” you laughed, blushing a little under his gaze.

“If you don’t take her arm I will,” Geralt hissed to Jaskier, eager to get the evening underway and over with. That snapped Jaskier out of it and he nearly leapt across the room to your side, taking your hand with unparalleled reverence.

“Here’s hoping someone else at court feels the same,” you said. Geralt watched Jaskier’s face freeze, a glimmer of fierce panic in his eyes before he recovered and offered you a smile.

This would be a long night.

—–

Valdo Marx had come to the ball for one reason and one reason alone – spite.

True he had been one of the first to receive an invitation but it was to attend, not perform, a slight he would not forget or forgive anytime soon. He had come to drink their wine and eat their food and scoff at their doubtless subpar performers. He hadn’t come with carousing in mind though he saw flickers of interest in the eyes of many he passed. He couldn’t blame them. He was aware of his effect on people, especially when he looked as resplendent as he did tonight in his black and burgundy attire. His curls were artfully disheveled and he’d smeared just a bit of kohl around his eyes to further emphasize them, not that they needed it. He’d trimmed his mustache and goatee and applied a tasteful amount of patchouli cologne to his neck and wrists. Still, it was all for himself and to know that he had appeared and provided the quality appearance that one could expect from Valdo Marx, even if all he had planned was some smirking and sipping of wine.

And then he saw you.

Valdo’s plans immediately pivoted. He moved from his haughty lounging to standing straight up, pressing out the wrinkles in his doublet and then setting down his goblet as he made his way to you. His eyes never strayed though yours surveyed the hall and he was vaguely aware that you were talking to someone. He didn’t look at their face, briefly taking in the quality cut of their black and cerulean lined attire with an appreciative glance, but when his eyes flicked back to your face it was inclined by the other and he stopped walking.

Jaskier.

Of course fucking Jaskier de Lettenhove, golden boy of Redania, would walk in with the loveliest creature tonight. No matter, Valdo told himself, taking up the chase again even as Jaskier led you onto the dancefloor. You may have arrived with Jaskier, but you would be leaving with him.

—–

“Jaskier if I dance with you all night I won’t find anyone,” you protested, though a traitorous part of yourself that wasn’t as easily swayed loved the feeling of his hand in yours and the way the oceanic eyes never left your face as he led you around the dancefloor.

“You’re right,” Jaskier said, though he kept a tight grip on your hand, “After this dance as ended I shall seek out some good company for you.”

You forced a smile. You’d secretly hoped he may say no, that he wanted to be your only dance partner, but you knew this was just a fantasy and if he really did do it you’d rankle at the unearned possessiveness. Still, you were a simple woman, and you wanted to feel wanted even if just for a moment. After the dance Jaskier did as promised, guiding you off of the floor and setting you up with a goblet of wine before heading out into the fray where he would circle a few times and then return to you. He would take the opportunity to check on Geralt who was where he usually sat during parties, alone and as far away from others as he could with refreshments.

You watched Jaskier’s retreating back and tried not to pout as you worked at finding that vigor you had earlier to find someone.

“It is too early for you to be here,” a voice in an accent you couldn’t immediately placed said. You turned to see a man standing nearby, leaning his long frame against a column and smiling at you with eyes that matched your gown.

“Pardon?” you asked, your heart skipping a beat as his mouth curled into a smile.

“Persephone is supposed to stay with Hades until spring, but here we still have a whole winter’s month left and yet you stand before us,” he replied in a voice that was so low it was nearly a purr. He spoke the words quietly as though it were a secret. As though he truly had spied a goddess out of place and was trying to coax her back before the other mortals caught on. You laughed and moved closer.

“Let me guess, you fancy yourself Hades?” you teased, the courage you’d lost coming back to you.

“Alas it seems I do not have that honor. But I shall let you cast me in the roll you see fit for me to play,” he answered smoothly. You stared at him thoughtfully as the bottle green eyes boldly, but not lecherously, swept the length of your body. You felt seen by this man in a way you hadn’t in some time. It scared you. You liked it.

“Eros,” you replied. He laughed, caught off-guard but delighted by your response.

“Indeed?” he said, “Oh you must tell me your justification.”

“You look the sort to tempt maidens in all kinds of trouble,” you answered, taking a sip of wine. His eyes fell to you lips as you licked a drop from the rim of the goblet and you knew he was wondering how the wine would taste if he kissed it from your lips.

“Tempting makes it sound like there’s some sort of coercion. I guarantee every maiden I’ve met was an eager devotee of my temple, love,” he replied, raising a hand using his slender, soft fingers to brush a lock of hair out of your face. He glanced up, something catching his attention, and his lovely features grew a little bit fiercer and more wicked and fool that you were, you only found yourself more enticed.

—–

“Geralt you were worried about nothing,” Jaskier insisted, though he addressed himself more than his friend who stared ahead with an expression that was a cross between bemusement and foreboding.

“Indeed,” Geralt said.

“Yes! We have had some lovely danced together and I left her with wine. Her favorite kind, I’ll have you know,” Jaskier insisted.

“And Valdo Marx was a part of your plan?” Geralt asked, eyes still gazing ahead. Jaskier scoffed and glanced to where Geralt look, opening his mouth to offer some witty retort but then he did a doubletake. You were standing inches away from Valdo whose eyes caught Jaskier’s. He looked delighted at the ashen pallor Jaskier’s face took. The color soon returned with vigor and before Geralt could rise from the table, Jaskier was halfway across the floor.

—–

“Y/N,” Jaskier said, appearing at your side so suddenly you squeaked in surprise.

“Jaskier!” you exclaimed, “Good gods where did you come from?”

“Hades,” Valdo murmured.

“I just saw you talking with an old acquaintance and wanted to ensure that you were properly introduced,” Jaskier said coolly, his words directed at Valdo more than you.

“Allow me,” Valdo said, interjecting quickly, “Valdo Marx, bard of Cidaris.”

He took your hand and raised it to his lips though Jaskier looked at him as though he may physically tear his lips from his face if they touched any part of you. You looked between the two of them confused.

“Wait, you’re Valdo Marx? Oh Jaskier he’s nowhere near as odious looking as you said. Quite the opposite in fact,” you said. Valdo shot Jaskier a squinty glare which was duly returned.

“And Valdo, I know some things you’ve said about Jaskier which were equally false. And things you’ve done. Did you know that your little stunt of spreading that lie about Jaskier and the pox cost him a job which cost us the chance at staying in an inn one night?” you asked, jabbing your finger in his chest.

“If I had any idea that you were with him I never would have done such a thing,” he replied emphatically.

“Y/N come, let’s have a dance,” Jaskier said, taking one of your hands.

“Allow me to explain myself further,” Valdo implored, taking the one you had pressed against his ribcage, “I promise I’m not as bad as I’ve seemed. Or acted. And in some ways I can get so much worse.”

His eyes glinted with a promise that made your stomach flip and Jaskier’s insides burn. He roughly pulled you next to him, his hand moving to wrap a more possessive arm around your waist.

“Y/N came with me,” he snarled at Valdo.

“She’s leaving with me.” Valdo snarled back.

“If you’re quit done fighting over me like two dogs with one bone I have something to say,” you interjected, though a part of yourself you weren’t proud of enjoyed watching these men inch ever closer to a physical altercation over you. They looked at you expectantly though whenever their eyes caught each other’s they squinted into a glower.

“Jaskier I did come with you but it was with the express intent to find someone because gods knows you aren’t interested and it’s not fair of you to try and decide who I speak with now,” you argued. Valdo preened as Jaskier stammered a bit under your glare. This was not going how he expected at all.

“I am,” he said quickly, “Y/N, believe me when I tell you that I am.”

“Oh sure because now Valdo is here and it’s a matter of pride,” you argued.

“No,” he implored take your hand up again with his, the sky blue eyes gazing into yours as they had earlier that day and as you thought about it, as they had many times before though you’d dismissed them as a foolish trick of your own love for him. “Y/N I have loved you since nearly the very day we met. I didn’t know how to tell you or if I should and, I must confess, I thought I had more time.”

“Because you didn’t think another man would be interested?” you asked, hurt plain on your face.

“Gods no, because you didn’t seem interested in others,” he explained.

“Well why would you offer to help me find a partner if you wanted me?” you demanded.

“She raises a good point. A pretty shit plan if I may say so myself. Seems the lady would fare better with a smarter, more direct partner,” Valdo cut in.

“Shut it,” Jaskier bit out fiercely before turning his face back to you, tender once more, “It was, admittedly, a plan that sounded better in theory. I was going to do this whole elaborate speech about no one being worthy of you – myself included – but how much I wanted to try and work at it for as long as you’d let me.”

The sincerity in his eyes and the words you’d wanted to hear for so long brought a tear to your eye. If he had done this five minutes before it would have been the easiest, quickest answer. But he hadn’t, and you found yourself in the unprecedented position of feeling torn between two men. This always sounded exciting and enviable in stories but now that you stood here you just felt frozen.

“Pretty works, Jaskier, perhaps the first you’ve ever spoken. But the fact remains that you have had months to make these feelings known and didn’t whereas I identified her the moment my eyes laid on her as someone I must know. And I didn’t wait for silly games. So I ask you, Y/N, what would you rather have? Someone who goes after what they want when they want it, or someone who plays the long game, taking for granted that you’ll be hanging around waiting for them?” Valdo asked.

“I do love you Jaskier,” you said. You felt Valdo drop your hand gently and you turned to face him, “But.”

The word hung in the air as both men stared at you breathlessly.

“But I cannot deny that I’m drawn to Valdo as well,” you confessed, feeling oddly guilty, “And I know it’s not how it’s supposed to be but… It’s true.”

“Perhaps a sampling,” Valdo suggested.

“What?”

“You spend an evening seeing what Jaskier has to offer and you spend an evening seeing what I can do and you make your decision,” he explained.

“You’re not a platter of meats,” you scoffed. He cocked an eyebrow at you.

“I could be,” he purred. You felt Jaskier’s arm tighten around your waist.

“Unless you’re worried that I would outperform you. Yet again,” Valdo said to Jaskier. Jaskier gave a sharp, humorless bark of laughter.

“Gods no. If anything I think of you and your poor, tender feelings. I fear you would never bring yourself to perform again after being so soundly shown up,” Jaskier sneered.

It wasn’t ladylike or right or moral but you had an idea. A scandalous, daring, wicked idea. Then again, you reasoned with yourself, men did it all the time.

“Perhaps this can be settled,” you said. Again two pairs of eyes landed on you, blazing green and cool blue. “Perhaps…”

“A fuck off?” Jaskier offered. Valdo rolled his eyes at the vulgarity but you brightened and nodded, grateful someone had spared you saying it. “Well I have no reason to fear it.”

He looked at Valdo challengingly and your heart pounded in your throat. The man looked back at you and as his eyes slowly scanned your body again you felt Jaskier’s grip tighten so hard it would likely leave marks. The idea thrilled you.

“Name the time and place,” Valdo said, “It will be an unequivocal pleasure showing you up yet again.”

—–

Geralt watched the three of you walk away, Jaskier’s arm around your waist and Valdo taking up your free hand. He debated with himself for a full five minutes about whether or not he should follow. If what was happening what he thought was happening, he didn’t want to be anywhere near it. Then again, there was an even chance that it would end in attempted murder. He took a long pull from his ale and shook his head. You could handle yourself.

#Jaskier x Reader #Valdo x Reader #Jaskier x Reader x Valdo #jaskier imagines #valdo imagines #Plus Size Reader #Jaskier x Plus Size Reader #Valdo x Plus Size Reader

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