#Common Weal

[kaiserin-erzsebet]

I'll probably stop politics posting for a bit after this. But I will say, as someone old enough to remember very clearly:

This feels so much like 2016. The realization of what people are willing to support is the hardest part. Because truly, there's been so much available information and people still made their choice.

And speaking only for myself, this time it is harder to take the "just get through the next four years" mentality. We've done it once and there has been such a shift to the right anyway. The cycle of hoping sincerely that the majority of people will see the issues and vote for imperfect candidates to prevent worse is draining.

Left-leaning politics, now and historically, have rested on the idea that people will vote for the common weal, and with time it is getting harder to put faith in that idea.

This shows that 2016 wasn't an aberration to an otherwise functional system. That scares me and I think it should scare us all a bit.

[cipher-the-sidhe]

I just!! Imagine them both meeting and bonding over being taught magic by these amazing celestial jesters! Being cared for and granted both live and power when everyone else they love is gone. I think they’d get along famously.

Rolling around in a sand pit of ‘Weal and Woe’ and ‘Double Toil and Trouble’ (by @pure-plum and @naffeclipse respectively) and screaming. Something about these two AUs drives me absolutely insane and I want to squish warlock!y/n and witch!y/n together like two marshmallows.

[crazyunsexycool]

Val!!

The more I read about honey bee, the more excited I am to read her story!

Since Lotti can see the future, she’s the probably the first to know many things about bee. Can you just imagine everyone at the compound trying to bribe her some way into revealing anything about the little Rogers on the way?!!

Lottie would have a blast taking bribes but she wouldn’t say anything important.

Tell me something…

Warning: talks of baby, gender, pregnancy.

Nat:

“Hey Lots of Love.” Nat called out to Lottie as she walked past a common room. “C’mere a sec.”

“Hi auntie Nat.”

“Hi, Lots.” Nat smiles sweetly at her. “I have a question.” Nat says as Bucky, Sam, Clint, Wanda and Vision all sit around and listen. “Do you know what Steve and Y/N are having?”

Lottie gives her a cheeky smile and nods. “I see it.”

“Will you tell me?”

Lottie purses her lips and tilts her head as she thinks it over.

“I’ll get you new headbands and bows.”

“Ok.” Lottie says and waves for Nat to come over.

Nat keeps a neutral expression as Lottie whispers in her ear. “A baby.” Lottie pulls back and gives Nat a mischievous grin before skipping away.

“What did she say?” Sam asks.

“I’m not telling.” Nat would never admit to being bested by a kid.

****

Sam:

“Hey Sugar cube.” Sam calls Lottie.

“Hi uncle Sammy.”

“I need to know something about Baby Rogers.” Sam says. “Who is Baby Rogers going to look like?”

“I can’t say anything.”

“I’ll buy you more arts and crafts supplies.”

Lottie thinks it over for a moment. “You buy me slime stuff?”

“Whatever you want.”

“Ok.” Lottie says and leans in, cupping her mouth with her hands. “She wooks wike her parents.” Then leaves with a smile on her face. Leaving Sam frustrated.

****

Wanda:

“You can’t use your magic auntie Wanda.” Lottie says as Wanda walks up behind her.

“Who says I was going to, munchkin?”

Lottie turns around to face her aunt. A look on her face that said ‘really?’. “I see it, duh.”

“Fine my very smart and lovely munchkin.” Wanda walks around the couch and sits next to Lottie, pulling her in to her side. “Do know what Bee says first?”

Lottie puts a hand over her mouth as if to let Wanda know she won’t tell her.

“Would you tell me if I promise to buy you a new dress?”

Lottie nods again, a small mischievous smile on her face. “She says a word.” Lottie hops off the couch laughing hard at Wanda’s pouty expression.

****

For weeks everyone on the team kept asking Lottie questions. Every single time she gave vague answers. Somehow she managed to get a bunch of new toys, clothes, arts supplies, candies and more. It was hilarious to watch the adults get frustrated. Eventually they all sat Lottie down to get to the bottom of the mystery.

“Lottie why haven’t you given us real answers?” Sam asks, he’s spent the most money since he wanted to get more information before Bucky.

“You no ask weal questions.”

“What do you mean we haven’t asked real questions?”

With a roll of her eyes and a smirk Lottie says, “Mama says you habe to be pacific if you want a good answuh.”

“Specific, sweet Angel.”

“Yeah, that.” Lottie nods.

“Fine,” Bucky sits up straighter. “Who will be Baby Roger’s favorite uncle, me or Sam?”

“What do I get?”

“What do you want?” Bucky asks without hesitation.

“I want you an mama to have anothuh baby.”

“Ok.”

“No way.” Both you and Bucky say at the same time. Your head whips around to look at him. “Peanut is barely a year old we aren’t having another baby yet.”

“But we will at some point. That counts right, Doll?”

“Nope.” Lottie says while getting up. “I no gibe more answers.” She says before leaving.

****

Honey is resting on the couch, a book in one hand and a drink in the other. She has her back against Steve’s chest as he also reads while a hand rests on Honey’s baby bump. The front door opens and Lottie runs into the living room. She’s giggling as she makes her way over to the couple.

“Hi, sweetheart. What have you been up to?” Steve asks, setting his book aside.

“Everyone was asking questions.”

“And?” Honey asks, her interest peaked.

“I no say anything. Uncle Sammy and daddy wanna know the most stuff”

“Good job sweetheart.” Steve chuckles.

Lottie looks up at Honey and then her belly.

“Go ahead.”

“Hi baby Bee.” Lottie places a hand over Honey’s belly. “Everyone wants to meet you alweady but I’ll be your bestest friend.”

She gasps when she gets a little kick as a reply.

[fred-the-god]

I return with AU time once again!

(sketchbook edition)

This is for my Sanders sides witch au that I've posted about before

I finally got inspiration for Logan and Patton(so they ended up in one post, and I drew them on the bus)

Logan is a witch with low amounts of raw magic, but a shit ton of knowledge. He might not have a lot of magic, but he knows how to use it well. Because of this he employs the use of a wand, and flashcard with spells. The use of a wand isn't too common, as it kinda looked down upon and seen as to much of a hassle/training weals that you're supposed to grow out of. But he's found it works really well for him

Patton is half human half fey, he doesn't have that much magic as far as he's aware, but he's able to affect people's emotions, and maybe more? He is supposed to look kinda frog-like because I love him being a frog and you cannot take that away from me.

Also "we have the same glasses" will forever be a cannon event in all my AUs.

There might come a more cleaned up version in the future

[the-griffons-saddlebag]

💎 𝗡𝗲𝘄 𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗺! Augurer's Coin
Wondrous item, uncommon ___ This triangular coin depicts a fair-faced goddess on one side, representing "weal," and a grim specter on the other, representing "woe." "Weal and Woe" is written in Common along the coin's topmost edge. You can use an action to flip the coin and hold a question in your mind, allowing the coin to hit the ground when it falls. The coin then duplicates the effect of the "augury" spell. Depending on the outcome of the spell, the coin lands in one of the following orientations: • If the coin lands with either the goddess or specter facing you, the answer to your question is "weal" or "woe," depending on the shown face. • If "Weal and Woe" is facing you, the answer to your question is "weal and woe." • If the coin lands upright on its edge, the answer is "nothing" instead. Each time you flip the coin, roll a d20. On a 1 or lower, the coin shatters and is destroyed. The maximum number that needs to be rolled to destroy the coin in this way increases by 1 each time the coin is flipped after the first. When found, the coin has already been flipped 1d4 − 1 times. ___ ✨ Patrons get huge perks! Access this and hundreds of other item cards, art files, and compendium entries when you support The Griffon's Saddlebag on Patreon for less than $10 a month!

[the-eyeless-watcher]

hear my nonsense out

in the wiki it is stated that

"All godlike share one common function: They act as failsafes for the gods, who can elect to possess their bodies if they are killed or used as living batteries to empower the gods with their souls. With thousands of godlikes across the world, it's a potent reservoir of power. The gods think nothing of this potential mass sacrifice, believing theirs is the greater good."

so ummmmm, avowed? what if you are weal, weal canonically has no godlikes that we know of, and the dude is God of dreams, secrets, mysteries, and revelations.like this guy would have a great time fucking with himself by making him forget who he is when possessing someone. idk think about it.

[fellow-weary-traveler]

Intendant of the Building Morals and Dogma - Chapter VIII

Part V The most striking feature of the political state is not governments, nor constitutions, nor laws, nor enactments, nor the judicial power, nor the police; but the universal will of the people to be governed by the common weal. Take off that restraint, and no government on earth could stand for an hour.

[reasonandempathy]

Responding to an idiot

Idiot:

"Mmmmm so Hitler didn't get elected by promoting a form of nationalism that he promised would end in a socialist utopia? Or have I read the propaganda from the 30's wrong?

He got elected via a socialist grift just like every soviet, south American, and east Asian dictator.

His best guess was that the revolutions of the early century failed becuase there was in group conflict, hence the desire to create an ethnostate.

So regardless of whether or not he was a true blooded Marxist, he absolutely did run on a policy of collectivism that he wanted to implement after the war, and was dead before he could attempt to realize the promise.

The point here is to show just how easy it is for evil people to take power by promising socialism, justifying the corruption of any and all checks and balances and personal liberties in an attempt to realize a dream that will never work."

I wanted to take a crack at it, so I did.

Mmmmm so Hitler didn't get elected by promoting a form of nationalism that he promised would end in a socialist utopia? Or have I read the propaganda from the 30's wrong?

You read it wrong. Hitler explicitly broke Nazi ideology away from any sort of "socialist utopia." To quote Hitler in Liberty Magazine on July 9th, 1932:

‘Why’, I asked Hitler, ‘do you call yourself a National Socialist, since your party program is the very anthesis of that commonly accredited to Socialism?’

‘Socialism’, he retorted, putting down his cup of tea, ‘is the science of dealing with the common weal [health or well-being]. Communism is not Socialism. Marxism is not Socialism. The Marxians have stolen the term and confused its meaning. I shall take Socialism away from the Socialists.

‘Socialism is an ancient Aryan, Germanic institution. Our German ancestors held certain lands in common. They cultivated the idea of the common weal. Marxism has no right to disguise itself as socialism. Socialism, unlike Marxism, does not repudiate private property. Unlike Marxism, it involves no negation of personality and, unlike Marxism, it is patriotic.

Hitler's "socialism" wasn't universal, wasn't communist, wasn't marxist, promotes private property, and is just "dealing with the common health and well-being."

He got elected via a socialist grift just like every soviet, south American, and east Asian dictator.

He expressly got elected on anti-communist and Law & Order propaganda, which got him elected to a relatively minor party. He was invited into the ruling power structure by the right-wing conservative politicians who wanted to co-opt his popularity among disaffected younger people.

His best guess was that the revolutions of the early century failed becuase there was in group conflict, hence the desire to create an ethnostate.

His explicit belief was that the Aryan German Empire would've conquered Europe and ruled it if it weren't for "Bolshevists" (his word for left-wing people and marxists) and Jews, which is related to but not foundational for his desire for an ethnostate. He wanted an ethnostate, believed that they were the natural order of the world, and believed that "Aryans" were naturally the best. In fact, Jews were weird and weak for not having an ethnostate.

So regardless of whether or not he was a true blooded Marxist, he absolutely did run on a policy of collectivism that he wanted to implement after the war, and was dead before he could attempt to realize the promise.

I don't know how to explain that collectivism =/= socialism. Nationalism is collectivism. That didn't make Joseph McCarthya socialist.

The point here is to show just how easy it is for evil people to take power by promising socialism, justifying the corruption of any and all checks and balances and personal liberties in an attempt to realize a dream that will never work.

He very explicitly would run on not being socialist and not wanting socialist policies, as described in his interview in June of 1932.

It's amazing how people find themselves so confidently wrong on literally everything they say.

[1five1two]

Here is the core of evil, the burning hell without let-up,

The canker corrupting all things, Fafnir the worm,

Syphilis of the State, of all kingdoms

Wart of the common-weal,

Wenn-maker, corrupter of all things

Darkness the defiler

Twin evil of envy,

Snake of the seven heads, Hydra, entering all things

Passing the doors of temples defiling the grove of Paphos,

neschek, the crawling evil,

slime, the corrupter of all things,

Poisoner of the fount,

of all fountains, neschek,

The serpent, evil against Nature's increase,

Against beauty.

Ezra Pound

[theblackdahliaemporium]

Greek Deity: Hestia

𝓖𝓸𝓭𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓗𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓪

Hestia was the Greek virgin Goddess of the hearth, home, and hospitality. In Greek mythology, she is the eldest daughter of Kronos & Rhea. In her role as a protector of the family and political community, sacrifices and offerings were regularly made to Hestia at the hearth within each private home and at the town or city’s communal hearth. In some myths, the goddess voluntarily relinquished her place amongst the gods on Mount Olympus, swapping with Dionysus, because she prefers to withdraw form godly affairs and it sure of a fond welcome in any mortal city she chooses.

MEMBER OF THE TWELVE OLYMPIANS

ABODE: MOUNT OLYMPIANS

One of the 4 Wisdom Goddesses within you. Hestia is the Goddess of Meditative Wisdom.

“Hestia shook her head. “I am here because when all else fails, when all the other mighty gods have gone off to war, I am all that’s left. Home. Hearth.””

HESTIA IS THE GODDESS OF:

· House

· Home

· The family hearth

· The civic flame

· The state

· Family

· The sacrificial flame

· Domesticity

FAMILY:

· Parents: Kronos and Rhea

· Siblings: Demeter, Hera, Hades, Poseidon, Zeus; Chiron (half)

· Consort: None

· Children: None

ATTENDANTS:

· Nymphai

EPITHETS:

· Cult Epithets:

o Bulaea- Of the council.

o Polyolvos- Rich in Blessings

· Poetic Epithets:

o Aidios- Eternal

o Basileia- Queen

o Khloomorphos- Verdant

o Poteinotati- Beloved

IDENTIFIED WITH:

· Vesta (Roman)

· Tabiti (Scythian)

SYMBOLS & ATTRIBUTES:

· Symbols: Hearth, kettle or kettledrum, Modest head-veil, flame, cauldron

· Plants & Trees- Poppy, goldenrod, hollyhock, yarrow, angel’s trumpet

· Animals- pigs, cows, donkeys, cranes

· Scents: Angelica, Iris, Lavender, Peony, Amber, Frankincense, Chamomile, Myrrh

· Stones & Metals: Amethyst, Garnet, Gold, Silver, Brass, Quartz, Vanadinite

· Colors: gold, white, orange, red, lavender

· Planets & Days:

· Month: December

Offerings:

· Sweet wine, olive oil, food burned in fireplace, fresh fruit, domesticity, receiving of guests, milk, honey, tea, white flowers, candles, pottery, small kitchen antiques, pictures of family,

DEVOTIONAL ACTS:

o Donate to those who have lost their homes.

o Donate to food banks

o Spend some time by the fireplace.

o Read poetry or a book.

o Clean your house.

o Learn how to cook or bake.

o Learn how to sew, knit, crochet etc.

o Take care of your physical and mental health.

o Bake home-made bread.

o Set aside the first bite of your meal for Hestia.

o Host celebrations at your home.

Prayer to Hestia-

Hestia, Gracious Goddess who sits at the heart of each home, Who lives in the heart of each one who reveres you, Each one who holds you dear, Each one who turns to you for strength and harmony. Hestia, goddess most needful, goddess most serene, goddess most esteemed, the heart of the city is yours Great Goddess; within your realm are those who serve the state, who work for the good of all. Your blessings fall on the Honest, goddess, your wrath on the corrupt, on those who betray their trust for gain. Defender of the householder, Guardian of the hearth fire, Hestia, I praise and Honor you.

RITUALS AND FESTIVALS-

o Typically invoked for matters concerning family, households, and the state.

o Rites at the hearths of public buildings.

o A common practice that she was respected by being offered the first and last libations of wine at feasts.

o In Naucratis, people dines in the Prytaneion on the natal day of Hestia Prytanitis.

Orphanic Hymn to Hestia-

"Queen Hestia, daughter of mighty Kronos, You dwell in the center of the home with your vast everlasting fire. you purify the initiated of these rites, Inspire endless youth, wealth, benevolences, and holiness. You are the dwelling-place of the happy Gods and the strong support of mankind. Eternal, many-formed, beloved, and verdant. Smiling, happy one, accept these offerings with kindness, Breath upon us weal and soothing health."

SOURCES:

o www.theoi.com

o www.Greekpagan.com

o www.Hellenicgods.org

o Ancient Greek cults by J. Larson

o www.teaandrosemary.com

[queenmarytudor]

Mary I's Fight For The Throne

16th July - Mary is optimistic

Lord Wentworth arrives at Framlingham "to avoid the appearance of breaking his pledge, clad in splendid armour", 1 along with other men including Sir Richard Cavendish.

Mary is told Sir John Williams has proclaimed her queen in Oxfordshire 2, and when she learns of Edward Hastings and Edmund Peckham's rebellion sends scouts back with rewards, "so that when they had returned they could let their own people know that their efforts and their loyalty expanded with such resolution and eagerness for their sovereign were very welcome to her Highness; that she was now protected by forces of ample strength and took sure hope, God willing, for a future victory, but that the enemy was too near for her to use their forces or assistance." 3

Mary also receives a letter from the Mayor of Thetford requesting aid from rebels, presumably Northumberland's men. She tells them in a similar optimistic tone that "the expectation is that the pride of the enemy shall in such short space be abated, that they of Thetford may be out of all doubt of their conceived fear." 4

Meanwhile...

Jane writes to Justices of the Peace: "Trusty and well beloved, we greet you well. Albeit that our estate in this imperial Crown whereof we be actually and really possessed, as may appear by our procIamaction, wherein our title is published, is not or can be any wise doubtful to all such our good and faithful subjects, as, setting blind affection apart, do in reason and wisdom consider the very foundation and ground of our tytle, with the great commodities thereby coming thorough God's providence to the preservation of our common weale and policy, yet for that we understand the Ladye Marye doth not cease by Ietters in her name, provoked thereto by her adherents enemies of this realm, to publish and notify slandorously to divers of our subjects, matter derogatory to our title and dignity royal, with the slanders of certain of our nobility and council. We have thought meet to admonish and exhort you, as our true and faithful subjects, to remain fast in your obedience and duty to the imperial Crown of this realm, wheerof we have justly the possession, and not to be removed any ways from your duty by slanderous reports, or of Ietters dispersed abroad, either by the said Lady Marye, or by her adherents, for truly like as the nobility of realm, our Council, our prelates, our judges, and learned men, and others, good, wise, godly, and natural subjects, do remain fast and surely in their allegiance towards us, ready to adventure their lives, lands, and goods, for our defence, so can a great number of the same nobility, council, and judges truly testify to all the world in saving of their conscience, how carefully and earnestly the late king of famous memory, our dear cousin king Edward the sixth, from time to time motioned and provoked them partly by persuasions, partly commandments, to have such respect to his succession, if god should call him to his mercy without issue, as might be the preservation of the crown in the whole undefiled English blood. And therefore of his own mere motion, both by grant of his Ietters patents, and by declaration of his will, established the successors as it is declared by our proclamation. And for the testimony hereof to the satisfaction of such as shall conceive any doubt herein, we understand that certain of our nobility have written to you at this present in some part to admonish you of your duties, and to testify their knowledge of the truth of our title and right. Wherefore we leave to proceed further therein being assured in the goodness of god that your hearts shall be confirmed to owe your duty to us your Sovereign Lady, who mean to preserve this Crown of England in the royal blood, and out of the dominion of strangers and papists, with the defence of all you our good subjects, your lives, lands, and goods, in our peace, against the invasions and violences of all foreign or inward enemies and rebels. Given under our Signet at o' Tower of London, the xvi'' day of July, in the first year of our Reign." 5

Jane shuts the Tower of London gates, and orders the keys sent to her. 6

Bishop Ridley preaches a second sermon against Mary on the streets of London. 7

In Cambridge, Bishop Edwin Sandys preaches against Mary, using a chalice and missal "which Sir George Howard with certain of the Guard had taken that night in M. Huddlestone's house where lady Mary had been a little before, and there had Mass." 8

Following the burning of Sawston Hall, the Earl of Warwick and George Howard argue. Fighting breaks out amongst their camp, and George Howard leaves for Mary "with 50 of the King's best horses." 9

Sources:

1. Vita Mariae Angliae Reginae of Robert Wingfield

2. Chronicle of Queen Jane and Queen Mary

3. Vita Mariae Angliae Reginae of Robert Wingfield

4. Acts of Privy Council, Vol. 4

5. The Loseley manuscripts

6. Chronicle of Queen Jane and Queen Mary

7. Spanish State Papers, 22nd July 1553

8. The Acts and Monuments, John Foxe

9. Spanish State Papers, 20th July 1553

[blackrose-ffxiv]

19. Weal

CW: Needles (non-hypodermic)

"If you do not stop squirming and whining I will give you something proper to whimper about." The chirurgeon threatened, fingers curling tightly around the wrist that he had pinned to the table. A small dining table where the remains of afternoon tea sat a short ways away growing cold in its neglect. Medical tools and tinctures scattered between plates and saucers. He gripped firmly enough that the points of nails manicured to wicked points began to bite into skin. "It is unseemly for a Knight." The title was spat as though it was a four-letter word.

The Knight forced himself to still, his gaze turned aside to avoid watching the other work. It was never pleasant and sometimes it was better not to know when treatment would resume. How many bells had this been dragging on for now? Barely even one, if the nearby chronometer was to be believed yet it had felt like an eternity.

"If you had simply come to me immediately, we could have avoided all of this. A fresh wound is far easier to treat than one already several moons' healed." Lebeaux continued to chastise as he lowered his eyes back down to his work. "Fixing or removing scars is so much more tedious and time-consuming than preventing them to begin with. I suppose painful as well, if your carrying on is anything to go by." He noted before he slipped another long, slender needle into the damaged skin along the taller elezen's skin and drew another quiet noise of protest from the impatient patient.

"I do not mind the scars. Is it not stranger to be a survivor of the War with only the one? It speaks of cowardice, of fleeing the field rather than risk injury..." Anselme countered carefully, turning to look back at the chirurgeon. As soon as he turned his head it was immediately turned aside again with the force of Lebeaux's backhand. While the strike itself smarted, it was the seething anger he'd seen in icy blue eyes before the strike that hurt far worse. He lifted a hand absent-mindedly to gingerly touch the weal already rising red and angry along a sharp cheekbone. The contact stung fiercely, but it was nearly a pleasant distraction compared to the pain when the chirurgeon resumed treatment.

"Why is it honorable to bear the evidence of your mistakes in your skin for all to see." Lebeaux demanded, directing searing aether into the needles lined up to create a precise point of focus under scar tissue. "Where is the glory in having to be reminded of your failures each time you catch your reflection in the looking glass." He continued as he worked. An argument they had time and time again without ever reaching common ground. The discoloration slowly burned out of the keloid to leave it matching the skin surrounding it, though the raised mark remained. Near-invisible save for close inspection or direct touch.

"Nonetheless, you yourself agreed to assist me however I may need. Are you intending to go back on your word." Lebeaux accused, suspecting the Knight was no longer listening as Anselme had lowered his forehead down to the table and begun banging his other hand slowly against the surface with his fingers clenched into a tight fist. Firmly enough to rattle teacups and silverware. "Stop that. Would you rather I dug the scar tissue out and sealed the skin behind it."

"... no." Came the miserable response, half muffled against the wooden surface. "To both." Slowly he picked up his head, trying to distract himself by changing the subject as he looked to his brother again. "I think you have mastered the technique. The coloring has not come back to any of the scars you have treated. Is it not already perfected? Are you intending to use it on-"

The question was left unfinished and more certainly unanswered, silenced by a firm strike to the other side of his face to balance the reddened skin. Indicating that Lebeaux would not be fielding any more questions. Anselme sank lower in his chair to rest his chin in the palm of the hand not currently pinned to the table. His palm digging firmly into a freshly-stinging cheek until it near made his eyes water. The familiar pain a welcome distraction from the burning in his shoulder as well as the ache in his chest.

[starpros-sunshine]

I still think the more I think about it that sanctuary at it's core is a perfectly understandable reaction on Eichis part I mean have you read blackbird imagine being Eichi and experiencing that. I would also go insane if the guy that's stuck with me through weal and woe — who's been a main motivation for me to keep on living by being kind of the reason I fell in love with idols in the first place which is a fact about me that proceeded to shape the narrative at it's very core and who I'm so close to it makes other people uncomfortable sometimes, yet I feel like I don't know him at all and like there's this chasm between us still — just disappeared without any notice for a few days at least and then I find out he's hypnotized himself to play around with some boring kid from his theater circle because he wasn't able to do that as a child. Shakes you there are so many layers to the Sanctuary thing when you think about it of course Eichi was being eaten up by jealousy I would be too for god's sake imagine thinking you're getting closer to someone and then they pull a stunt like that. Why would he rather toy around with this boring weirdo who doesn't even know him like Eichi does that should've been Eichi stuck in that construction area with Wataru not Tomoya! It's only logical because Tomoya hasn't been through what they've been through together. And Eichi is petty and a menace and I still think it was overly dramatic and a tad bit of an asshole move to just leave Tomoya there because he was angry with him while Tomoya was just some guy roped into this without his will or knowledge but I get it. In a way I understand it. I think it's over the top but what is Eichi Tenshouin if not over the top and a little (or very) dumb sometimes and you know what they say about how love makes blind yeah I think that also applies to common sense there.

[wonder-worker]

Late medieval and early modern people were increasingly more creative in their reactions to official and elite discourse; hence the crown had to adjust to this new reality to show concern with dialogue. Although the surviving proclamations about wars, truces, and peace treaties do not show special appropriations, the very fact that they were widely distributed shows a willingness to engage in an interaction. In the Yorkist period they were ordered at least four times between the 1460s and 1470s, and in 1471 the truce with Scotland was alleged to be ‘for the weal’ of both realms. More successfully, the old popular title to the crown of France was frequently used to secure taxation, despite the occasional failures. In parliament, the government argued in 1474 that the problem of a great number of ‘disbanded soldiers’ after the late civil wars could only be solved by an expedition to France—which had been the key to success of past monarchs, even Henry VI who was a notable example of failure in that regard. This rhetoric ensured the initial granting of funds by parliament and became a central part of William Worcester’s Boke of Noblesse in 1475—a mirror of the commendable English past in France since Edward III. Henry VII attempted the same strategy between 1489 and 1492, with relatively limited success. Similar vocabulary was repeated in 1502, when Henry was urging his people to take action against the Turks, and in 1514–15 when peace was agreed with France. Even proclamations about the intercourse of merchandise in the 1490s made clear the shared concerns between commons, merchants, and the government. The increased resistance to war levies should not necessarily imply that the title to the crown of France became unpopular but that the dialogue also increased in that respect, and the ‘negotiation’ occasionally proved fruitful to the commons—such as in 1525. All these measures, therefore, might well have sounded quite responsive and self-explanatory as they offered news that justified the extraction of taxation, lengthy negotiations, the mustering of troops, and both failed and successful military expeditions.

The crown also echoed various public concerns about economic and social issues which were likely to cause murmuring among the people. In 1464, Edward IV decided to solve the scarcity of coins in the kingdom, stating that although seditious language was being raised, anyone who had reasons to think the measure was not ‘for the common weal but rather a loss and hurt, [should] come before him and his council and show them’. Such readiness to engage in dialogue is again evident in his skilful claims that he would ‘live upon [his] own resources’ in the parliament of 1467— an echo of the manifestoes of Jack Cade’s rebellion in 1450 and the Kentish men in 1460. In July 1483 Richard III allegedly responded to the ‘clamor, grugge, and complaints’ that people in England were raising against the difference in the value of the Irish coins—an issue which would be raised another three times in the 1490s. Another great concern was with the availability, or more importantly the scarcity, of grain. The enforcement of statutes against illegal trading of grain was particularly addressed in 1491 as being a policy aimed at the ‘common weal’ of the subjects, then similarly several times in Henry VIII’s reign. Mendicancy was treated similarly, as it was commonly believed that beggars carried the seeds of revolt, spread rumours, robbed and murdered the people, and meant the decay and ruin of the commonwealth. The enforcement of local jurisdiction, especially in suppressing extortion, was likewise propagated as part of the ‘advancement of the commonwealth’. Consequently, by responding to such popular concerns, the crown was not only echoing the voices of the people but also legitimising them.

-Wesley Corrêa, "Political Dialogue, Exchange, and Propaganda: Or, How Yorkist and Early Tudor Governments Managed Public Opinion, c. 1461–1537", "Loyalty to the Monarchy in Late Medieval and Early Modern Britain, c.1400–1688"

[onwesterlywinds]

Livvy's #FFXIVWrite 2023 Wrap-Up Post

Hi all! First and foremost, I want to thank everyone who's engaged with the stuff I've written for what is now my FIFTH consecutive year of #FFXIVWrite!

For the past few years, this challenge has been the primary vehicle for the XIV writing things I've always said I'll get around to writing - I went back to check and ten of this year's prompts include interactions or scenarios I've had in my head for multiple years! So as always, thank you SO much to @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast for creating this beautiful event. It's truly become one of my favorite parts of being in this game's community.

I wish I could say I had things I learned about myself, my writing or my characters this time around - but to be honest, the biggest thing I've learned is not to tempt fate by saying "I have completed this challenge in past years in spite of various life crises," because oh my god, y'all. Oh my fucking god. (Everything is fine but I am so tired.)

(Actually, okay, there was one common trend: I wrote way more NSFW material this year than in past years. Which I'm honestly really glad about, because this is an area I've always felt has not been one of my strong suits as a writer!)

So without further ado, below are my prompts for this year in their entirety, organized by character in order of frequency! I've bolded the pieces I'm especially proud or fond of.

If I get a handful of likes on this post, I might post some of my drafts - I had way more this year than in past years, so it'd be fun to share them now and see if folks are interested in me continuing any of them!

Livvy Ahtynwyb

#6: Ring | #10: [EXTRA CREDIT] | #13: Check | #22: Fulsome

Ashelia Riot

#1: Envoy | #12: Dowdy | #16: Jerk | #21: Grave

Ashley Rosenheim

#7: Noisome | #15: Portentous | #27: Sole

Alma Malheur

#2: Bark | #11: Once Bitten, Twice Shy

Ingvald Bloodhound

#3: [EXTRA CREDIT] | #17: [EXTRA CREDIT]

Hrjt Brotin

#14: Clear | #28: Blunt

Marco

#18: Fish out of Water | #24: [EXTRA CREDIT]

Sappho

#8: Shed | #23: Suit

Astodan (a character I hope you all will learn more about soon!)

#9: Fair

Blackram

#19: Weal

Élodie Fiel

#5: Barbarous

Ludo Swiftwind

#26: Last

Lyhe Il

#30: Amity

Sigrid Keane

#20: Hamper

Stella Riot

#29: Contravention

Tircolas Flow

#4: Off the Hook

Tircolas Flow's Baba (whose name I'm 99% sure I know but don't want to reveal in case I decide to retcon it later)

#25: Call it a Day

[garglyswoof]

I was tagged by the lovely @evilbunnyking (go check out her wayhaven chronicles fic pls, i dont even know what twc is but it doesnt matter when the writing is lovely)

I keep forgetting to write what i was tagged for lol. ANYWAY - to post an older fic! This is a repost of what I think is my fave thing I've ever written. It's klaroline, and apologies if you saw this back in the day. This is inspired by and includes a repeated line from a Richard Siken poem.

tagging @stars-and-darknessess @morningstargirl666 @carry-the-sky @purplesigebert

@thetourguidebarbiedebarbie @kirythestitchwitch to do this too! (no need to read, it's 2700 words)

I am the thing that is hurtling towards you…

At first, she is far away, too far for even his enhanced senses. She is merely a title - 'the doppelganger's friend'. Then a flash of blond waves, a cheerleader's uniform. He notes her for her worth as a chess piece, the feint to his second play. He sees that Mystic Falls friendships run deep and he uses the folly of it to his advantage.

Plans within plans within plans and he bares his wolf teeth in victory.

I am the thing that is hurtling towards you…

She's there, in the school, and how perfect it is, for here is another to press deep on the witch's pressure points; to find a way to make his hybrids live past a few desperate gasps before the light dies in their eyes. Her voice blares warning and he dismisses her concern with a dose of reality, not bothering to look up as 'love' spills from his lips. He knows her face well by now, does not need another study. He remembers - before the hybrid ritual when he watched her talking with the pup in the cellar, her quick mind making connections and his own name rolling off her lips. He treasured the fear in her tone, and he is glad she is here now to witness his triumph. He has noted the hand that reaches out to soothe Tyler's feverish brow. The two must dream themselves star-crossed lovers, the Romeo and Juliet of the supernatural world, mortal enemies drawn together. By his hand, if truth be told. They should be thanking him.

And so he layers plans within plans within plans to test a new hybrid's loyalty.

I am the thing that is hurtling towards you…

He hears the death rattle of her breath as he rounds the corner into her room. Her hair clouds on the pillow and the shadows loom deep on her face as she speaks:

"Are you here to kill me?"

It's an odd question, for she knows well the cut of a werewolf's teeth is fatal, but he thinks that she says it as a condemnation, that she wields the only weapon she has, her esteem. He admires her fire and thinks that maybe this one should be spared, that there are lights that should always be allowed to shine.

There is a reverence in his hand as it sweeps aside the thin blanket she's pulled over the mark of his hybrid's loyalty. Oh, she doesn't have long, he thinks, as he eyes the angry red weals that mar her creamy skin. His anger at Stefan rises up in a flare for a moment, for look at what his erstwhile friend made him do, to use this chess piece so brutally.

It's nothing personal, he says, and he still believes it. For now.

She shifts, and the light catches on a bracelet, some hideous, common, semblance of jewelry that has the aesthete in him crying out in horror. He fingers a charm and thinks that it does not suit her in the least.

"You have to adjust your perception of time when you become a vampire, Caroline." And he knows then, when he says those words, that he will let her live should she so choose. But indeed it should be her choice, for there is a part of him that looks back on the boy he was and dreams of the comfort of cold earth cradling his bones. It is a small, secret part of him and he cannot believe he speaks of it now to her. Perhaps it is her spirit that calls to him, perhaps it is that darkness that he sees simmering underneath the skin, he's not entirely certain.

All he knows in the moment is that he sees her wrist and that damnable bracelet and thinks she should have a chance to wear the finest jewels.

So he chooses to give her a choice, knowing which one she will make, closing his eyes and breathing out in a rush at the beautiful monster's fangs closing upon his wrist.

I am the thing that is hurtling towards you…

Although Klaus misses the spirit of centuries past, modern day does offer a world of convenience at his fingertips. Klaus brushes a hand across the tulle of the evening gown he ordered that morning and had a hybrid pick up in Richmond. He imagines the color vibrant against her skin, his birthday gift sliding down her arm as she crooks an arm through his. He thinks that he should show her his paintings, no, he wants to show her his art. Wants to see her face light up with the same fire as when she claimed her life from his blood.

Later, he eyes her across the floor's expanse and drinks her in, those moments before her gaze snags unwillingly on his caught forever in his memory. Her hair falls in delicate tendrils to frame an elegant neck. Her eyes dart about, taking in the glamour of the evening, and he sees the nervousness that creeps into her gaze. He wonders then about her past, about what she's seen, where she's traveled, what dreams slide beneath the sheets with her as that golden hair fans out on the pillowcase. His hand twitches with the urge to paint her.

He dances with Miss Mystic Falls and admires her carriage. Her elegant, long-fingered hand is clasped delicately in his own, and their movements are fluid. He finds himself looking forward to how she'll manage to insult him this time.

—

She clasps her shawl around her shoulders and he smiles at how human she still is. He remembers the rise and fall of her chest from her birthday, the convention of breathing another instinct remained. He can pinpoint the moment he stopped his own - on the run from Mikael, dragging Rebekah through the damp forest, mouths wet with blood from a recent meal. A rotted stump, a mound of damp leaves, a hand over Rebekah's mouth and his own breath held until he realized.

He shakes the reverie away and refocuses on the vision in front of him.

"Do you like horses?"

—-

He is not used to being rebuked, and he blames his surprise as much as anything for his attempt to try again. It is also a thing, a slowly growing thing, that there is something between them, and it's not just in his own head. So it's another attempt at conversation, and he delights at what makes it past the façade of disdain she armors herself with. He sees it slip as she looks at his drawings, her face awed. His heart does something odd just then, a little stuttering flip at her regard. He wonders what style would be her favorite, what painting would stop her in her tracks at the Louvre, the Hermitage. Would she pause at his own? Admire the depth of color that he spent days perfecting?

And then the moment is over and her eyes flash with anger and his own echo in fury and a line has been crossed. He grits his teeth to hold the roar in and only just stops himself from tearing his Botticelli mimicry in two. She is gone, then, the words an acid burning in the pit of his stomach. He leaves the study for a moment, pulling close to a brunette server carrying a full tray of champagne flutes. The glasses clatter noisily to the ground, but he does have the presence of mind to drag the server back into the room (mustn't upset mother) before tearing the man's throat open. Klaus spins the server around and the shocked scream cuts off abruptly, eyes dilating from the compulsion. Klaus' fury grows from his own sloppiness.

I am the thing that is hurtling towards you…

He knows her role by now, his little blonde distraction, the baring of cleavage as she enters the bar almost comical in its obviousness. So when she makes a loop and heads right back out the door, he doesn't care that he's being lured. He follows with a spring in his step and a grin dimpling his cheeks, the thrill of the chase flaring brightly in his chest. He has a captive audience, he knows it, and he will use everything at his disposal to place the seeds of doubt in her mind. She can't be that great an actress - while she is too smart to be seduced by him (and oh at that line, the pang in his chest grows) - she doesn't realize the fundamental truth that familiarity breeds more than just contempt. But he feels the urgency, the time slipping away, and he wants to drink in whatever truths she will let spill from her lips, this fascinating creature with her bright smile that hides.

So captivated, he forgets the ruse for a moment. Forgets himself, forgets that the world is a betrayal, forgets that she cares nothing for him beyond a distraction. The pang in his chest twists into something darker, cold anger rushes through his veins as his dead heart beats double time to spread the poison of his rage.

And so he makes plans within plans within plans and tries not to think of her.

I am the thing that is hurtling towards you…

He inhales sharply at the sight of Caroline in her red dress, hair up in perfect finger waves, for his imagination is vivid and he sees her on his arm in Chicago in the 20s. He pictures them in the corner booth as their eyes meet across their meal. He pictures her monster's visage receding, veins fading until her skin is unmarred except for the drop of blood that she licks off the corner of her mouth. She would have been a queen.

So he tells her so, and she rebukes him, and his patience is starting to wear thin, he admits, for it is not his nature to pursue. He manipulates, he seduces, he coerces, he forces, he plans, he tracks, but he does not pursue. So he tells her the truth as he sees it because he's tired of her hiding behind her sharp retorts and he sees to the core of her and why won't she listen?

So he continues planning his plans within plans and he tries not to include her in them.

I am the thing that is hurtling towards you…

He smells the vervain and the rawness of her wounds and his breath is at her ear and he clutches her like a thing once lost and she is safe, she is safe.

I am the thing that is hurtling towards you…

Her worry washes over him like a tidal wave, and oh god it is not for him but he lets himself pretend for just a moment because the words she says make it so easy. "Klaus is dead," and her voice breaks like she's mourning him and it strikes a match in his chest and the ember flares.

He cringes even as he says the words, for he knows better than to be this obvious. "You're strong, and you have a beautiful future ahead of you." He is surprised she does not catch on, blames her distress. He wonders if this is what it is like to truly embody a role, to be an actor upon a stage and feel as if the words were meant for you and not a character.. Because he kisses her and it is only as their tongues slide that he remembers this is not for him and never will be.

I am the thing that is hurtling towards you…

It's easy to be a stalker when you have a team of sire-bonded hybrids at your disposal to gather information. He flaps the folded paper against his leg and grins - Caroline Forbes, journalism superstar. He simply must bring up her editorial diatribe on the vagaries of school lunches the next time she's sent as a distraction. Not that he disagreed that hot dogs were an offense against "both nutrition and humanity".

He spots the Miss Mystic Falls application on the corner of his desk and slips it in the inside pocket of his suit jacket, smoothing his hair with a practiced flick. He should have eaten before he got dressed, and he rolls his eyes as he realizes he'll need to drink from a glass. It wouldn't do to show up to his first date with blood spotting his collar.

When he arrives he waits on the edge of the lawn to get the lay of the land. He sees Tyler and that wolf bitch, spots Elena - and there - there she is ordering her minions about like the queen she is. He watches for a moment, smile on his face as the staff scuttles away, chastened.

"And how am I doing?"

His heart warms at her answer and it is those moments, when she drops her guard, that add more fuel to his imagination's fire. Later she opens to him, as if…he is a friend and he wedges his foot in the door for he won't let it close, won't lose this traction. He opens up to her, because he sees the way her eyes change, disdain and hatred turning for just a split second to something warmer. He wants to see more of it, and so he tells her of the hummingbird. And if a part of him also loves that the whelp of a hybrid sees it all, hears his speech and sees the way her eyes change, well then, isn't that part of the plan?

I am the thing that is hurtling towards you…

His rage is cold and calculated and moves around inside his skin. He shoves Carol Lockwood's head under the water of the fountain and for a moment wishes he could do the same to Caroline, to be rid of her traitorous heart. To feel the life ebb away and know he will reclaim himself because he is tired of the lie he keeps telling and why does he keep that tiny shred of hope that lets him care? He feels Mrs. Lockwood's struggles lessen, hears the sound of lungs filling with water and he plans his plans within plans and if he wonders how he'll acquit himself with her for just a moment, it's a moment that swiftly passes.

Carol's movements cease and she stares the glassy-eyed stare of the lifeless, moments ago staring at the bottom of the pond while the brain sent panic signals through the nervous system and the heart pumped and the lungs pulled. Klaus lets go, stands, and lets the lie continue, trapped for now beneath cold fury.

I am the thing that is hurtling towards you…

His brother lies dead and his scream is not loud enough, can never be loud enough. He is trapped and he stares at the body of his brother, the smoke still rising from his corpse. Klaus spent centuries keeping them safe and now an impudent vampire and her baby hunter brother have killed that which he vowed to protect and there is no scream loud enough to contain his rage.

So when Caroline comes in she becomes part of the plan, you're just collateral damage, love, nothing personal. One does not live a thousand years without being able to make up a plan on the fly and her disdain is a punch in the gut already soured by grief but the taste of her on his lips almost makes him regret.

She lays there, a sense of déjà vu punctuated by her rasping breath. She speaks and his heart twists and reminds him of everything he is not and can never have and Kol's body lays as a sentinel on the edges of his vision and her words punch a hole in his chest. As he often does with her, he pretends, and he lets hope ask the question, even if his words are laced with doubt.

Her breath falters and her eyes close and her chest stops rising and his heart won't stop twisting and he is undone. She ragdolls in his arms and it takes her a few terrifying moments to start sucking at the punctures in his wrist but she does, and he combs her hair back and mumbles into her hair promises he always intended to keep.

Because he sees it clearly, the thing that has been hurtling towards him for a year now, the flaring in his chest, the twist of his heart. He sees it clearly and he is surprised, for he doesn't feel weak.

tagging @stars-and-darkness @morningstargirl666 @carry-the-sky

@thetourguidebarbie @kirythestitchwitch