#So Do Our Minutes Hasten

[mesaryth]

do you think watching the tide of my curtain counts as media consumption

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Rhetorical Devices

These devices, sometimes called “figures of speech," appear in all speech and writing (you can find them in advertising, political speeches, and newspapers, as well as in essays, letters, and poems).

EXAMPLES. It helps, if you wish to give a brief description of what a writer is doing at a given moment, to know some of these shorthand terms for frequent practices.

Alternative Ordering - "A man that looks on glass, / On it may stay his eye, / Or, if he pleaseth, through it pass, / And then the heaven espy."

Analogy (comparison of A and B) - "No more be grieved at that which thou hast done: / Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud."

Anaphora (repetition of opening word) - "All shuffle there, all cough in ink, / All wear the carpet with their shoes, / All think what other people think; / All know the man their neighbor knows."

Anticlimax - "In silk, in crepes, in Garters, and in rags."

Antithesis (opposition of A and B) - "For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright, / Who are as dark as hell, as black as night."

Apposition (list of different formulations of the same thing) - "The Mind of Man, / My haunt, and the main region of my song."

Catalogue - "The leaden-eyed shark, the walrus, the turtle, the hairy sea-leopard."

Chiasmus (an X-like arrangement) - "By brooks too broad for leaping / The lightfoot boys are laid; The rose-lept girls are sleeping / In fields where roses fade." [books : boys :: girls : fields]

Hierarchical Ordering - "Such sweet neglect more taketh me / Than all th' adulteries of art."

Metaphor (comparison without "like" or "as") - "Church bells beyond the stars heard, the soul's blood, / The land of spices; something understood."

Metonymy (assemblage by parts) - "Four beating wings, two beaks, a swirling mass."

Onomatopoeia (imitative sound) - "And murmuring of innumerable bees."

Paradox (union of dissimilar qualities) - "There is in God, some say, / A deep but dazzling darkness."

Parallelism - "These are thy wonders, Lord of Power . . . / These are thy wonders, Lord of Love."

Periphrasis (circumlocution) - "The Peer now spreads the glittering forfex wide" [= opens scissors]

Personification (an abstraction made into a person) - "Love is swift of foot, / Love's a man of war."

Pun (a play on two meanings of one word) - "Therefore I lie with her, and she with me, / And in our faults by lies we flattered be."

Quotation - "My flesh began unto my soul in pain, / 'Sickness cleave my bones.'"

Simile (comparison with "like" or "as") - "Like as the waves make toward the pebbled shore, / So do our minutes hasten to their end."

Synecdoche (use of the part for the whole) - "Diadems — drop — and Doges — surrender."

Zeugma (two dissimilar objects of same verb) - "Or stain her honor, or her new brocade."

Source ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[wannabe-fic-writer]

Wanda Maximoff x Reader : Happier Than Ever

Summary: Living the life that you had dreamt of having for so long makes you the happiest person ever.

Warnings: Minor argument.

Word Count: 1,836

* * * * * * * *

Two bottles of water and a small package of cubed cheese in hand, you shut the refrigerator and turn back around to the counter. You take a quick second to arrange the items in the already stuffed lunch bag.

Despite the outing ahead being a fairly short one, the snacks were a necessity… and not because of you.

In the midst of taking the lunch bag and your backpack to the front door, you hear the soft thuds of feet on the stairs. Quickly setting your things down, you hasten over to the steps and jog up the first two to reach your wife’s side.

A soft smile forms on her face as you slip a soothing hand around her waist to rest on her lower back, your other hand taking one of hers as you help her down the last few stairs.

When she steps on the ground floor a heavy breath falls from her lips as her free hand rubs over her very swollen belly.“ Thank you, my love.” She tells you with a squeeze to your hand.

“You don’t have to thank me, Wands. I’d do anything for you and our little bean.” You then lean down and press a soft kiss to her belly.

“Y/n,” she groans,“ I told you to stop calling our baby a bean.” She slips away from you to go grab her coat from the hook by the door.

An amused smile forms on your face and you close the space between you two again, this time to slip her scarf around her neck and pass her hat over.“ But when we first met her she was just a little bean.” You once again explain yourself.

“Yes I know, but she is far from being a little bean now.”

Slipping your own winter gear on and grabbing up the bags, you say,“ yeah I know, but calling her my little winter melon isn’t as cute.”

Wanda stops right outside the door you’re holding open, confused eyebrows raised at you.“ A what now?”

“Winter melon.” Shutting and locking the door, you explain,“ the pregnancy book I’ve been reading compares the baby’s growth with the size of fruits and right now at 37 weeks, they’re the size of a winter melon.”

Slipping into the passenger seat of the car, your wife can’t help but roll her eyes good naturedly. Not only is she amused at the comparison of her child to a fruit, she also loves hearing whenever you talk about the baby books you’ve been reading. Since the two of you found out you’d be having this baby you’ve expressed how much you want to prepare, despite Wanda telling you you didn’t need to do so. But your dedication to ensuring that she and the baby are taken care of now and will be later is one of the many reasons she loves you.

“How about you call her by her name?” Wanda suggests in between sighs of exertion.

You don’t close her door until she’s comfortably set in her chair, having laid it almost all the way back in an effort to relieve the tension in her back.

Going around the car, you get in the driver’s seat and snap your seatbelt in before starting the car.

Just as you place your hand on the gearshift, your wife’s hand lands on yours.“ Let the car warm up first.”

“It’ll warm up while we drive, darling. It makes no difference to the vehicle and it’s a waste of time to sit here.”

Her eyebrows furrow at your response and she looks over at you.“ Well it makes a difference to me, so I’d appreciate if you waited for the car to warm up.”

“But Wanda-”

“Why go back and forth with me about this Y/n? It’s a simple thing,” she sighs exasperatedly,“ just wait a few minutes. Which we wouldn’t have to do had you started the car earlier.”

You start to rebuttal, the words on the tip of your tongue. Between helping her shower, preparing breakfast, fixing and packing lunch, you hadn’t had time to go start the car.

But before you do that the thought crosses your mind that little, petty, arguments like this have been a common occurrence since this pregnancy started messing with your wife’s hormones.

It seems that the little things you did seem to bother her more than they used to and while you have had your little spats before, one literally having taken place last night over you not using a coaster, you don’t have it in you to argue with her right now. Quite frankly, you don’t want to anyway.

“Okay.” You concede, raising your hands in surrender, then resting them in your lap.

Silence fills the car as you both wait for the heat to pick up and travel throughout the whole car.

After five or so minutes, you look over to your wife. Ensuring there isn’t an ounce of condescension in your tone, you ask,“ is it warm enough for you, love?”

“Yes, it is.” While you can still hear the irritation in her tone, you remain silent.

Shifting the car in gear, you place a hand on the back of Wanda’s seat and turn to look out the back window, reversing out of the driveway and onto the street.

The quiet between you two isn’t a welcome thing. Unlike the comfortable silences you so greatly cherish, this one comes at the hands of your wife’s irritation with you.

Not wanting this negative energy to continue, you resort to using your secret weapons.

At the next stop light, you scroll through your music app and select a song, the familiar tune of yours and Wanda’s first date song filling the air. You also reach into the back, unzipping the front pocket of the lunch bag and pull out the pack of chocolate covered cranberries.

When you offer them to Wanda, her eyes narrow slightly but she accepts it nonetheless.

“Is this a bribe?” She asks.

An over exaggerated gasp sounds from you.“ A bribe? Of course not. I just thought my lovely wife would like a snack.”

“So how would you explain the choice of song?” She continues but you now hear the amusement slipping into her tone.

“Oh? This? Just so happens to be my favorite song.” With a shrug, and a knowing smile her way, you begin to belt out the lyrics.

So honey now

Take me into your loving arms

Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars

Place your head on my beating heart

I'm thinking out loud

Maybe we found love right where we are

Of the many things the redhead loves about you, your singing voice is not one of them. Your ability to carry a tune isn’t a very good one. Despite that, whenever you sing, it brings a smile to your wife’s face.

Reaching across the middle console, she takes your free hand in hers. The gentle kiss she places on your knuckles and the soft look in her eyes as she watches you solidifies that all is well again.

Thankfully so, as you reach your first destination for the day: Wanda’s OBGYN.

The appointment is much like the ones she’s had before. At 37 weeks, the information you get gears more towards being ready for labor. A few of the decisions regarding the birthing process haven’t been made yet, but you aren’t concerned about that.

For now, you’re more than happy to hear that your wife and daughter are both completely healthy and progressing how they should.

With this pregnancy nearing full term, you leave the doctor’s office feeling incredibly excited and happy.

Said feeling only intensifies as you reach your second destination.

Pulling into the school’s parking lot, you exit the car and help Wanda step out as well. Together the two of you head over to the fenced off playground.

You see them long before they see you. Your beautiful boys.

Smiles light up their faces as they run around and play with their friends. However, after you greet their teacher and she calls their names, they come to a screeching halt.

Just when you thought they couldn’t get any happier, their smiles widen.

“Moms!” Tommy shouts, running over to you full speed, his brother following right behind.

Their little bodies collide with your legs, arms wrapping around you tightly. You reciprocate the hug by leaning down and wrapping and arm around each of them.

“Hi my boys,” you kiss the crowns of their heads,“ I missed you both so much.”

“Missed you too Mama.” Billy replies, his hand squeezing yours after you part.

They then greet Wanda, gently hugging her and accepting the kisses on their cheeks.

“Hi mommy,” Billy mumbles.

Then in a moment of cavity inducing sweetness, both boys press kisses to their mother’s belly.“ Hi baby Iryna,” Billy says as Tommy says,“ hi little bean.”

A sheepish grin forms on your face at the look Wanda gives you.“ I can see how this is my fault.” You admit with raised hands.“ But it was cute and you know it.”

“Whatever.” She looks away in an attempt to hide the smile on her face but you catch it.

Refraining from making a comment, you look to the boys and ask,“ do you have all your things?”

An affirmative nod is given and with that you all say bye and wave to their teacher before you shepherd your family to the car.

The boys clamber into the back, bookbags going on the car floor as they buckle themselves into their booster seats, all while you assist your wife into the vehicle.

It’s not until after you check the boys’ seatbelts that you get in the car yourself.

Before pulling off, you take the lunch bag out and pass snacks off to the boys, also passing some over to Wanda the second she sees the cheese and crackers you packed.

“Alright, everyone good to go?” You ask, partly teasing.

“Wait!” Tommy exclaims, making yours and Wanda’s eyes widen.

Turning slightly, the redhead looks at the boy,“ what is it sweetie? Did you leave something?”

He shakes his head, then grins,“ can we listen to your song?”

You grin widely,“ what a great idea, Tommy.” Giving a pointed look to Wanda, you restart the very song you listened to earlier today.

The boys begin to sing all the lyrics they know, and for the ones they don’t, your voice carries loud enough for it to go unnoticed.

As you drive, and the three of you sing, Wanda can do nothing but give in and sing along as well. Her near angelic voice smoothly glides between the sound of your out of tune voice and the slightly cracky premature voices of the boys.

Despite the imperfect tune of you all singing, you find it perfect all the same simply because it’s your perfectly imperfect family singing it.

Quite frankly, this rendition is your favorite of all.

* * * * * * * *

Taglist: @owloftheshadows @blackxwidowsxwife @b-5by5 @lostandsearching @iliketozoneout @alotofpockets @caspianalexander @yeeterthekeeper @ecruzsalaz @natasha-danvers @fayhar

[kotegiris]

[Event Story] The Herald of Dawn

previous chapter ✧ all ✧ next chapter

Chapter 7: Dispute

【Slick - Worker’s District】

After leaving the clothing shop… Lato, Lamli, and I took a different route from the way we came.

When avoiding an ambush, don’t take the usual roads.

Lamli: …Is what Lucas-sama always says!

Lato: Hm… I don’t think it’d be an issue even if we were ambushed.

Lato: With Lamli-kun and me by your side, it’s impossible to lay a finger on you.

Lamli: Hm~... Yeah, if we’re fighting humans, then I don’t think it’ll be a problem, but…

Lamli: If they’ve dug a pitfall or threw rocks at us from a high place, wouldn’t it be annoying?

Lamli: …Is what Lucas-sama always says!

> Point made (He’s not wrong)

Lato: I see. A trap would be annoying.

Lato: It’s a bit of a detour, but… As long as we don’t get lost, there’s no problem.

Lato: Fortunately for us, the hotel is a large building and can be seen even from a distance.

Lato: But the streets around here are narrow and winding… It’s not as easy to get to our destination as I’d like it to be.

Lamli: Yeah, seriously~ It feels like the houses around here were just built randomly.

Lamli: If I remember correctly… A lot of the town’s working-class people live here.

Lato: There are many houses, but I don’t sense many people. Are they all out?

Lamli: Maybe. They’re probably still at work.

Lato: Hm… Empty houses…

Lamli: No way, Latocchi. You’re about to say, “If we go through the houses, we can proceed straight ahead”, right?

Lamli: Even if we are part of the “mafia”... It’s not good to just go inside people’s homes like that~

Lato: No, that’s not it. What I wanted to say was…

Lato: “If we go on the rooftops, we can proceed straight ahead.”

Lato: If no one’s home, no one will be bothered by the sound of running on the roofs.

Lamli: Ohh… You have a point…

> He does…? (Really?)

Lamli: Ah, wait a minute. We’re with the boss right now.

Lamli: We can’t let the boss do something so dangerous.

Lato: Yes, but if I held the boss while running…

Lamli: That’s even worse! There’s no way these roofs are strong enough for that.

Lamli: The roof might break under the weight of two people. And if we’re planning to carry them, then that’s my job!

Lato: Hm… I understand your point about the roof.

Lato: Then… The people following us from behind…

Lamli: Yup. We’ll just have to lose them normally~

> There are people following us…?

Lamli: This way, Boss! We’ll be speeding up a little.

Lamli took my hand and we hastened our steps. 

We made countless turns and continued down the alley, turning left and right…

Soon we made it to a wider street… But the two of them suddenly stopped.

> What’s the hold-up? (Is something wrong…?)

Lamli: …Sorry, Boss. They got here before us.

In front of us were… Men in suits, carrying weapons and waiting to ambush us.

More men with weapons appeared behind us… We were surrounded by a dozen or so of them.

Lato: Kufufu… Seems like we’ve kept you waiting.

Lato: Thinking about it, if you knew our destination… Then it’d be easy to narrow down the paths we’d take.

Mafia Men: …That’s right. You upstarts sure made a fool of us yesterday.

Mafia Men: Did you really think you could get away with messing with the mafia?

Lamli: Fufu, yay! I’m glad you told us who you are.

Lamli: You’re not Leo’s allies, so… There’s nothing wrong with taking you down ♪

Lato: Yes. Considering how many men are here...

Lato: …There’s no need for two of us to fight. One of us should take care of things here, and the other should take the boss back to the hotel.

Lamli: Yup! Let’s decide on who gets to escort the boss back…

Lamli: Rock, paper, scissors!

Mafia Men: T-These bastards… They’re looking down on us…

> ……… (I need to act like this is normal…)

Lamli: Ah~! I lost…

Lamli: Boo~, no way around it… I’ll leave the boss to you, Latocchi.

Lamli: Anyway, I’ll distract them, so get the boss out of here.

Lato: Understood. If you’d like, how about I help you out a little?

Lamli: Nah! I want to show off my cool side to the boss!

Lamli: Hey, how much longer are you gonna stand there for? Hurry up and come at me.

Lamli: Feel free to throw your knives too~ I’ll dodge them all!

Mafia Men: Tch… Don’t get so cocky, you shitty brat!

One of the men, rising to the provocation, rushed at Lamli.

But before his knife could reach him… Lamli crouched down and kicked his foot out towards the man’s leg.

The man was knocked off his feet, and the force of it caused him to crash into the men behind him.

Mafia Men: Ugaah! Gwaa!

Mafia Men: What are you doing!? We have numbers on our side; get him!

Lamli: Fufu~n, that’s no good ♪ If you’re gonna attack together, your movements have to be in sync.

Lamli: If not, you’ll just get in each other’s way, you know? …Like this.

While skillfully dodging his opponents… He kicked one man, who broke formation, and sent him flying into another. 

While using his acrobatics to toy with the men… One by one he incapacitated them.

> Not bad (Wow…)

Lato: Kufufu… They seem unable to take their eyes off of Lamli-kun.

Lato: Well then, Boss. Let’s take this chance to return to the hotel.

Mafia Men: Hold it right there! We can’t just let you leave…

Mafia Men: Geh!

Lato: Oh my? Did you just say something?

Lato: I thought you were a pebble, so I kicked you. Now then, Boss, right this way…

Lato took my hand, and we ran back to the hotel.

When I looked over my shoulder, back at Lamli…

He was facing this way with a relaxed smile on his face. Then, our eyes met.

Lamli: (Fufu… No need to worry, Aruji-sama.)

> (Be careful, Lamli)

Dash

Lamli: O~kay! It’s about time for me to get serious ♪

Lamli: Fufu ♪ Come at me, all at once!

Mafia Men: Hey, over here! I found them! Call the others over!

Lamli: …Huh? I feel like there are more people…

Lamli: Hmm~... I said I’d do it alone, but…

Lamli: Geez. Seems like a lot of work, but I just have to do it~

Lamli: Alright~... I’ll take you on one at a time!

Mafia Men: Everyone, get him!!

Lamli: Uwaah! Not all at once…!

[mraprilfools]

Sinners Rejoice! I am trying something a little new today from my imagines! A CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE STORY! I'll be writing ~500 word snippets as you the readers decide what our lovely protagonist decides to do. This is a test run to see if there's a demand, so we will be back to our regular programming soon!

Comment below with a quote or an action and I will be your lovely DM for the evening.

Edit: I forgot to specify, I will be picking one of the replies, especially if there's a popular one and writing the next part the day after tomorrow.

You were being watched.

Ashen dandelions broke free from the crevices in the sidewalk, the buildings, and the bed of corpses. Littering the alleyways that even the cannibals would not touch. Within the center of their bloom, a singular black-and-white eye watched out. The pupil looked more like it had been penciled in by a child, even the petals looked closer to the scribbling of a child. They were everywhere, but only you could see them. It always gave a strange feeling of being watched, but since nothing ever happened you’ve long since learned to live with it.

Even if they were always watching.

The busy streets of Pentagram City were oddly empty tonight. What was normally a five-minute walk felt as if it had taken ten. The shifting silhouettes of people only revealed themselves hidden behind glass panes. Faces painted in shadow. Only memories of shades now, fragments of souls and nothing more. The wind's chill cut through your very bones, making the three layers you were not even enough to protect you. As you wrapped your coat tighter around your body you ducked your head and hastened your pace.

“My, we are in a rush to get nowhere aren’t we?” A filtered voice cut through the silence, clear as a bell. A nostalgic sound of an old radio that spoke of golden days. One you would instantly recognize. The keeper of your cage, and the director of The Show.

A red moon swallowed the silhouette behind him. Refusing to let its light reveal any more to you than the eerie glow of his eyes and that golden upturned smile cutting through the darkness.

“Where is everyone?” You asked.

A devilish smirk stretched the confines of his face. His head cocked to the side, while one after the other hand laid over the microphone. “Almost all dead now. My seven-year sabbatical has left your tea party with few guests. You must have been awfully bored, especially without me to entertain you. But haven’t you been busy? Nary a soul left in this place. I would never be so uncouth as to comment on a lady's appetite, I assure you. But I am impressed.”

With one arm outstretched in a showman’s flourish, he faded into the shadow he had cast. Its figure remained, slithering across the blacktop until it disappeared behind you.

Long spindly fingertips crawled across your shoulder from behind. The whisper of hair brushing against your ear sent a shiver up your spine. A single breath tickled your ear. “You’ve nearly won your freedom, my dear. And it has been an utter delight watching you.”

The palm that pressed against your throat, held you by the base of your jaw felt like fire searing your skin. The Radio Demon burned hot like the bowels of hell, and each little digit mercilessly dug into your flesh. “All you need to do is kill one more pitiful soul and I will pull you free from my show darling. You will do it for me, won’t you?”

Alastor’s fingertips traced along your jaw, thumb jutting into your throat to force your head to turn. He refused to let you look at him, while his words dripped into your ears like honey. “A rare delicacy this time… a pure and innocent soul who has unfortunately stumbled into my web. You’ve been so good, I have decided to reward you. What do you say… do we have a deal?”

Part 2

[gliphyartfan]

@yanderelinkeduniverse @stars-for-thought @imprisioned-in-the-hole @screaming-until-god-hears-me @crestfallenmermaidan @ice-cream-writes-stuff @linked-heroes @eternadreeblissa @justanerd1

Happy Halloween folks! You know me! Always have to make sure I give you all a treat!

I hope you enjoy! (I accept chocolate and gummies as payment)

------

"Is she still asleep?"

Warriors nodded, "Yes, from what we are seeing, she's mumbling, seems she's dreaming"

"Is that so..."

"At the very least, the Traveler believes she's not distressed, simply in deep sleep."

Time sighed quietly, arms crossed over his chest. "Have we discovered whose blood was covering the area?"

A sigh, "Not yet, though we are hastening our efforts. Wolfie senses bad weather rearing it's head."

"Then let us not wait any longer, for whatever the case, I am worried for her."

With a frown, Time asked, "What do you propose we do? She hasn't shown any signs of waking up since we brought her here."

Warrior simply grimaced, which told highly of how confusing this situation was."

With an irritated sigh, Time rubbed the bridge of his nose and closed his eye.

Warriors cleared his throat, "Perhaps we can wait until the search group returns, we can discuss out options then."

"...If you insist," Time answered tiredly, opening his eye once more, "We should also see if we are capable of removing her from this place soon, despite her state. Having her in such an open place with limited supplies does not please me in the slightest."

"...Agreed."

With another huff, Time moved to sit next to where (y/n) laid sleeping peacefully on the bedroll in front of them, resting his cheek on his hand as he looked at her.

A few minutes passed without either man speaking or moving, only the sound of her deep breathing could be heard filling the room.

It was all so odd. This whole situation.

Without a care, they had entered the newest town on their travels, finding an inn and deciding who would restore what items.

A small enough town, small enough that they had seen no harm when she announced she was going to wander the markets.

And now… here she was. Deeply asleep after going missing for four days.

They had been fortunate to find her curled up against a tree- luckily there was nothing that indicated she had been injured or sick in any way - and placed her on her bedroll in front of the fireplace, which kept most of the chill off the room while she slept.

Time could still recall the ice that claimed and pulled his heart down to his stomach when he saw the dangerous amount of blood covering not just the area, but also on her.

Hyrule didn't hesitate to drop to his knees and begin scanning her condition as the others surrounded the two and kept alert for any possible dangers.

So far, with immense relief, they had not found any sign of injury on her body. They were soaked with blood, and there was dried blood on her face.

Blood that was clearly not hers, given her unharmed state.

Time wasn't sure whether or not to feel relieved or angry. He was furious she had been taken, Yet utterly relieved that she was safe and unharmed.

"We may not know what the circumstances were," Time spoke up to Warriors, not looking away from (y/n). "But I am dearly grateful for whatever allowed (y/n) to return to us uninjured."

Warriors simply sighed with a weak smirk, nodding in agreement.

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"Get away...Get away..!!" a panicked voice spoke as he ran through the cabin, his right arm bleeding profusely from the opened hole where his hand used to be. He had wrapped it as best as he could while he ran but he was dizzy from the blood he already lost.

He had thought himself fortunate when he spotted the empty cabin, yet it was a trap he foolishly fell into.

There were footsteps following behind the man, fast and heavy.

A shaking hand grabbed hold of the door and pulled, trying to force the door open. However, it wouldn't budge

"Nononono! NO!!!"

High-pitched laughter echoed around him.

"Come onnnnn~!" he heard a woman sing,

"Come herreee~!"

He shook his head furiously. His mind refused to cooperate.

"I said come onnnn~!"

His eyes flew open in panic when there was a sudden yank and something heavy hit him square on the back.

He coughed, gasping desperately as air escaped his lungs as he slammed against the wall from the force of the hit and falls to the floor against it.

As he coughed, something bangs against the wall above him.

Looking up, he sees a large portrait of a young woman.

Specifically the young woman he had planned to hold for ransom.

(She had obviously been a visitor of the town, it made it so easy to catch her off guard. Such unusual skin pattern. She must have been a noble with the quality of her clothes and the guard of armed warriors she had entered town with. He was sure she would fetch a pretty rupee.)

His vision swims, and suddenly pain shoots up his body, making him cry out and want to curl in on himself. It hurt so much. Yet he couldn't look away from the portrait. He felt nauseous and dizzy.

The young woman's portrait only showed her face, but her features were exotic enough to be recognizable, no matter the circumstances.

It was as if the pain coursing through him left him in a trance as he continued to stare at the portrait.

Suddenly, the eyes of the woman widened in surprised as they locked on to his, as if she were alive, than the expression quickly relaxed into a wide smile before laughing.

And suddenly, her image froze into that wide smile, the surface of the painting slowly ripping as if a water droplet had fallen on it's surface.

And slowly, a hand reached out through the rippling surface.

He watched as the hand began to reach forward, extending until the arm was completely through the portrait frame.

Then the hand grasped onto the wall by the side of the frame, elongating fingers digging into the walls surface, another hand clapped the frame beneath it's palm.

Then...a pumpkin with craved eyes and a grin pushed it's way out.

But what caught his attention was that it was attached to the neck and shoulders of the body hanging out of the portrait.

He couldn't believe what he was seeing. He didn't know if he lost his mind or not.

He couldn't move, couldn't breathe, nor did his gaze leave the figure that was currently emerging from the portrait.

The pumpkin headed...thing, laughed,

"Hello naughty man~!"

His mouth opened but no words came out.

All he could do was gape at the female voice that echoed within the pumpkin.

The monster titled it's head and it's craved smile seemed to grow a bit.

"You tried to take my friiieeend~!" the monster sang playfully, giggles escaping from it's mouth in bursts like a child that had too much energy.

It's voice, despite being soft and friendly, sent shivers down his spine.

"She's quite cute you know? Quite cute~"

The monster said in delight, its head twisted to one side, it's craved grin stretching stretching.

"But you can't take her~ No No No~"

it said, it's head turned to the other side, still smiling.

"Don't worry, you won't die~"

Then, it laughed again,

"But that doesn't mean your fate is to be freed either~!"

Then it raised it's arm upwards and slammed it into his face.

The hit seemed to snap the man out of his trance. He tries to scramble away, but the monster that hit him was quick. It's hand snaps forward and unnaturally long fingers wrap around his wrist as it dragged him towards the portrait.

He tried pulling her hand off, but it's grip was too tight.

"Please!" He begged, digging his other arm, the handless stump press into the floor to get some hold, only to leave a smear of blood as he was slowly pulled in. "I-I'm sorry! I never should have touched her!! I'll never do it again!"

His struggles only made It pull him harder, laughing gleefully.

"That's not what you mean~ You wanted to hurt her, hmm~?"

The naughty man, having covered Silly Home/Friend/Warm's face with a cloth of bad smells.

Silly Home/Friend/Warm was like a doll with no strings! Such a sad state for someone as wonderful as Home/Friend/Warm.

So They decided to follow the man daring to take their precious person.

It's grip on his wrist was getting tighter and tighter as It dragged him across the floor. The nails on his wrist dig in sharply to break skin, tearing flesh and drawing fresh blood.

They knew precious Home/Friend/Warm would be greatly upset if she woke up away from her Silly Sillies.

That's why They made sure to keep her dreaming happily! They knew Wolf Silly would find her, They made sure to leave a long amount of smells for it to find after all!

Precious Home/Friend/Warm's Sillies would take care of precious Home/Friend/Warm.

Which means They were free to take care this Naughty person!

"Naughty Naughty Man~" The monster sang, It's head twitching as the monster's craved eyes began to widen and it's 'pupils' dimming to the point of disappearing. It's grin stretching and it's 'teeth' grew more pronounced.

Naughty Naughty M̶͎̉͛ä̶̺̲͘n̵̘̝͋͘ ̴̗̌̑ͅ" It's voice, still somewhat feminine, sounded raspy, like a rusted saw attempting to cut into cracked glass. It gave a sense of rot as it spoke.

His increased struggles only caused the monster to giggle.

"D̴̘̈ô̷̘n̸̨̿'̷͍̿t̸̖͌ ̸̨̌w̵̰͝ó̷̰ȑ̵̯ȑ̶̭ÿ̶̰ ̶̳̒N̷̰͐a̷̰̚ủ̷͚g̷̙̑h̸̤̒t̶̖͌y̷̰͝ ̵̨̀M̵͉̌a̶̦͝n̷͔͘~̶̺͝ ̴̞̍I̸͉̚'̴͕̓ļ̴̕l̴͉̏l̵̢̔ ̴̲̏m̵̗̿a̶̞̔k̷̮̐e̵̟͊ ̵̞͛s̴̖͐ű̸̼r̸̻͠e̶̹͆ ̸̝̂ȳ̷̯ȏ̵̤ủ̶̱ ̵̮͝w̸̼͆o̸̮͝ṇ̶̐'̶̳̈́t̸͔̆ ̴̌͜d̸̳̒i̸̢̛e̴̥̊~̴̰̈!̸̗͌"

It dragged the flailing man closer until he was mere inches from it's face, the carved expression that now sat on it's face was horrific compared to the rather innocent look it once more.

"I̴͕͆ ̴̯̐à̶̡m̵̗͗ ̸̜͂ă̸͎ ̶̩͂g̶̦̈́ô̴̟ö̸̬d̸̖͊ ̸͖̇f̶̰̐r̸͎̅i̷̥͝e̵͎̍n̵̞̓ḋ̸̠~̴̱̿!̶̦͒ ̴̠͑S̸̳̉o̶̡͊ ̶̧̔y̷̲̓o̴͚͊ū̸͎ ̶̹͂w̷͙͐o̴̦̍ṋ̷̈́'̴̻̾t̵̯́ ̸̫̀ď̶ͅi̴̺͌è̸͍~̶̳̈́!̴̝̒" It cooed excitedly. Its hand tightened even more, forcing him to scream as his wrist snapped under it's strength.

"A̵̲͋t̶͆͜ ̷̖̕l̴̩̒é̵̺a̶͈͛s̵͊ͅt̶̥̚,̴̮͐ ̵̤̍n̵̘̈́o̸̢͛t̶̺͠ ̸̠̓f̶̺̃ǫ̷̒r̷̘͂ ̸̢͋à̸͖ ̴̰̑w̴͍̎h̵̖͒i̷͉͂l̵̒ͅë̸̡́~̷̬̉" It sang.

His screams grew but he wasn't able to do anything to stop the inevitable, the pain coursing through him.

The trees surrounding the area were the only listeners to the sounds that came from the cabin. Screams that would eventually fading away as the cold touch of death eventually wrapped around him.

But not for a long while.

--------

"We found a body. Rancher says the scent matches."

"...Seems someone took care of the problem before we could."

-------

----

--

(y/n) woke up a day later, completely unaware of anything that had happened after she wandered the market.

Everyone was overjoyed.

Oblivious of the figure sitting on a tree branch and humming happily as They stared down at the now re-united group.

"Hee Hee~ I helped!" It mumbled cheerfully, soon gone along with the next brush of wind passing by.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

(The Last Sight a Dead Man Sees Before The Bitter End)

[cilil]

AO3 recommendations overview

A good chunk of the recommendations I received - thanks again to all those who sent me something! - were from AO3 and I couldn't always find a corresponding Tumblr post to reblog so I decided to make a list for convenience (an attempt at sorting has also been made). Please go show some love, enjoy and happy holidays/happy new year!

₊˚⊹ Ainur

♡ Back In Evernow by @the-red-butterfly (Melkor & Manwë, Gen)

♡ Feathers and Friends by @elennalore (Manwë & Ulmo & Maglor, Gen)

♡ Whenever our paths cross by @thedaughterofshadows (Tilion, Arien & Ilmarë, Gen)

♡ Go Get Him by @glorf1ndel (Eönwë x Arafinwë, T, WoW)

♡ To be Made of Fire by @hirazuki (Mairon & Arien, Gen)

♡ Worth While by @hirazuki (Mairon & Eönwë, T, WoW)

♡ Redeeming graces cast aside by @mirkwood-hr-department (Melkor & Nienna, T, canon divergence)

♡ No Sooner Looked by @verecunda (Melkor x Mairon, Eönwë, T)

♡ When Your Walls Fall by @curufiin (Melkor x Mairon, T, canon divergence)

₊˚⊹ Elves

♡ So do our Minutes Hasten to their End by @maglor-my-beloved (Caranthir x Haleth, Erestor, T)

♡ Anywhere With you by @last-capy-hupping (Maedhros x Fingon, past Melkor x Maedhros, E, modern AU, heed warnings)

♡ What Happens at Camp Eglarest, Stays at Camp Eglarest by @polutrope (Daeron x Maglor, T, modern AU)

♡ of a harsh and caustic nature (the root of hope) by @oopsbirdficced (Caranthir x Finrod, T, soulmate AU)

♡ A Compass Pointing North by @elentarial (Celegorm x multiple, E, modern AU (cam work))

♡ Pour Out A Drink For Me by @nothinghereisworking (Caranthir x Haleth, T)

♡ Star Anise by @maglor-my-beloved (Fëanor & Nerdanel & their children, Gen)

♡ Bureaucratic outcomes & oversights by @sortumavaara (Glorfindel x Erestor, M)

♡ Snow white and the hunts(wo)men by @goschatewabn (Celegorm x Oromë, M, ABO)

♡ Laws and Customers by @z-h-i-e (Glorfindel x Erestor, little Arwen, Gen)

♡ glade-song by @welcomingdisaster (Galadriel x Melian, M)

♡ Slow Flights by @searchingforserendipity25 (Maedhros & Irmo, Gen, coming back to life)

♡ The Seven Trials of Fingon the Valiant by @melestasflight and @polutrope (Fingon, various pairings, T)

♡ My Bones Divide and Shake by @sallysavestheday (Celegorm & Oromë, Gen)

♡ Nothing gold can stay by @mirkwood-hr-department (Thranduil x Glorfindel, E, long fic)

♡ Something in the Darkness by @hirazuki (Eöl x Aredhel, M)

₊˚⊹ Dwarves & Hobbits

♡ You Should Be Safe With Me by @fantasyinallforms (Bilbo x Thorin, E, canon divergent verse)

♡ And I’ll say I love you, and I’ll say that I do by @the-girl-with-the-algebra-book (Bilbo x Thorin, Gen, modern AU)

♡ Flowers that Never Die by @frosticenow (Bilbo x Thorin, T, pre-canon)

♡ Fuck Thy Neighbor by @lordoftherazzles (Bilbo x Thorin, E, modern AU, accidental marriage)

₊˚⊹ For Orc lovers

♡ Scars of Silver and Gold by @niennawept (Adar x OFC, E, ROP verse)

₊˚⊹ Old/older favorites that helped me through difficult times back in the day:

♡ Catechesis by @lvsifer (Melkor x Mairon, E, pope AU my beloved)

♡ the path of ecstasy by @bodhvild (Melkor x Mairon, E, heed warnings)

♡ In Utumno's Deeps by @foxindarkness (Melkor x Mairon, E, heed warnings)

♡ distractions by @tarmairons (Melkor x Mairon, baby dragons, unrated)

♡ Just This Once by @crackinthecup (Melkor x Mairon, E)

♡ ... and I burn for you by @echoesoftheforest (Melkor x Mairon, E)

♡ Desire by @dragonofmordor (Melkor x Mairon, E)

♡ Sacrament by @mayakoroz (Melkor x Mairon, E)

I was a lurker back then and too shy to comment or make myself known, but I saved links to my favorite works and never forgot about them. Better late than never.

₊˚⊹ Gifts for yours truly

♡ His Malicious Majesty by @i-did-not-mean-to (Mairon, various pairings, M)

♡ Where there's smoke, there's a fire by @i-did-not-mean-to (Melkor x Mairon x Gothmog, E, modern AU)

♡ Dog eat dog or something like that by @i-did-not-mean-to (Melkor x Mairon, puppy, gen)

♡ Aber bitte mit Sahne... by @i-did-not-mean-to (Melkor x Mairon, Gothmog x Eönwë, E, coffeeshop AU)

♡ Can't you see that I'm bound in chains? by @i-did-not-mean-to (Melkor x Mairon, Gothmog x Eönwë, E, mafia AU)

♡ Reaching for the stars by @i-did-not-mean-to (Manwë x Varda x Yavanna, T)

♡ The adventures of Crablor by @goschatewabn (Crablor x Faramir, E, heed warnings)

♡ Broken traps by @ruiniel (Andreth & a wolf, T)

₊˚⊹ Art collections (is this cheating? No idea - but this is my event and I loved these so let's put them in as a bonus)

♡ Kinktober by @sortumavaara (various, E)

♡ Kinktober by @elanna-elrondiel (various, E)

[dabiconcordia]

"Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore, So do our minutes hasten to their end. Each changing place with that which goes before, In sequent toil all forward to contend. " By William Shakespeare

[thebrickinbrick]

Many Interrogation Points Concerning a Certain Le Cabuc Whose Name May Not Have Been Le Cabuc, Part 2

The murderer turned round and saw before him Enjolras' cold white face.

Enjolras held a pistol in his hand. He had hastened up at the sound of the discharge. He had seized Cabuc's collar, blouse, shirt, and suspender with his left hand.

"On your knees!" he repeated. And, with an imperious motion, the frail young man of twenty years bent the thickset and sturdy porter like a reed, and brought him to his knees in the mire.

Le Cabuc attempted to resist, but he seemed to have been seized by a superhuman hand.

Enjolras, pale, with bare neck and dishevelled hair, and his woman's face, had about him at that moment something of the antique Themis. His dilated nostrils, his downcast eyes, gave to his implacable Greek profile that expression of wrath and that expression of Chastity which, as the ancient world viewed the matter, befit Justice.

The whole barricade hastened up, then all ranged themselves in a circle at a distance, feeling that it was impossible to utter a word in the presence of the thing which they were about to behold.

Le Cabuc, vanquished, no longer tried to struggle, and trembled in every limb.

Enjolras released him and drew out his watch.

"Collect yourself," said he. "Think or pray. You have one minute."

Mercy!" murmured the murderer; then he dropped his head and stammered a few inarticulate oaths.

Enjolras never took his eyes off of him; he allowed a minute to pass, then he replaced his watch in his fob. That done, he grasped Le Cabuc by the hair, as the latter coiled himself into a ball at his knees and shrieked, and placed the muzzle of the pistol to his ear. Many of those intrepid men, who had so tranquilly entered upon the most terrible of adventures, turned aside their heads.

An explosion was heard, the assassin fell to the pavement face downwards.

Enjolras straightened himself up, and cast a convinced and severe glance around him. Then he spurned the corpse with his foot and said: "Throw that outside."

Three men raised the body of the unhappy wretch, which was still agitated by the last mechanical convulsions of the life that had fled, and flung it over the little barricade into the Rue Mondétour.

Enjolras was thoughtful. It is impossible to say what grandiɔse shadows slowly spread over his redoubtable serenity. All at once he raised his voice.

A silence fell upon them.

"Citizens," said Enjolras, "what that man did is frightful, what I have done is horrible. He killed, therefore I killed him. I had to do it, because insurrection must have its discipline. Assassination is even more of a crime here than elsewhere; we are under the eyes of the Revolution, we are the priests of the Republic, we are the victims of duty, and must not be possible to slander our combat. I have, therefore, tried that man, and condemned him to death. As for myself, constrained as i am to do what I have done, and yet abhorring it, I have judged myself also, and you shall soon see to what I have condemned myself."

Those who listened to him shuddered. "We will share thy fate," cried Combeferre.

"So be it," replied Enjolras. "One word more. In executing this man, I have obeyed necessity; but necessity is a monster of the old world, necessity's name is Fatality. Now, the law of progress is, that monsters shall disappear before the angels, and that Fatality shall vanish before Fraternity. It is a bad moment to pronounce the word love. No matter, I do pronounce it. And I glorify it. Love, the future is thine. Death, I make use of thee, but I hate thee. Citizens, in the future there will be neither darkness nor thunderbolts; neither ferocious ignorance, nor bloody retaliation. As there will be no more Satan, there will be no more Michael. In the future no one will kill any one else, the earth will beam with radiance, the human race will love. The day will come, citizens, when all will be concord, harmony, light, joy and life; it will come, and it is in order that it may come that we are about to die."

Enjolras ceased. His virgin lips closed; and he remained for some time standing on the spot where he had shed blood, in marble immobility. His staring eye caused those about him to speak in low tones.

Jean Prouvaire and Combeferre pressed each other's hands silently, and, leaning against each other in an angle of the barricade, they watched with an admiration in which there was some compassion, that grave young man, executioner and priest, composed of light, like crystal, and also of rock.

Let us say at once that later on, after the action, when the bodies were taken to the morgue and searched, a police agent's card was found on Le Cabuc. The author of this book had in his hands, in 1848, the special report on this subject made to the Prefect of Police in 1832.

We will add, that if we are to believe a tradition of the police, which is strange but probably well founded, Le Cabuc was Claquesous. The fact is, that dating from the death of Le Cabuc, there was no longer any question of Claquesous. Claquesous had nowhere left any trace of his disappearance; he would seem to have amalgamated himself with the invisible. His life had been all shadows, his end was night.

The whole insurgent group was still under the influence of the emotion of that tragic case which had been so quickly tried and so quickly terminated, when Courfeyrac again beheld on the barricade, the small young man who had inquired of him that morning for Marius.

This lad, who had a bold and reckless air, had come by night to join the insurgents.

[doks-aux]

Fic: Dead Men Take No Dares

Fandom: Our Flag Means Death

Characters: Izzy Hands, Edward Teach, Stede Bonnet, Lucius Springs, Ivan, Fang, Nathaniel Buttons, Crew of the Revenge

Relationships: Izzy Hands & Edward Teach, Izzy Hands & Crew of the Revenge, Izzy Hands & Ivan & Fang

Rating: PG-13/Teen

Content/Warnings: Truth or Dare, friendship (existing, mending, and growing), humor, and a callback to one of my favorite jokes from Season 1

Summary: “Fun, huh?” He breathed in and out once very deliberately then opened his eyes to look at Fang, face carefully neutral. “All right. I can do fun.”

--

Izzy is strong-armed into a game of Truth or Dare and decides to play by the rules.

Notes: Written for the zine Above All Else: An Appreciation of Izzy Hands in 2023 and set in a possible post-Season 1 future where everyone is trying to get along and no one is very good at it. (Except Fang, of course.) Written before the premiere of Season 2 and has not been edited to reflect any of that updated canon. The only difference between this text and what appears in the zine is the correction of three minor grammatical errors that will haunt me for the rest of my natural life.

Word Count: 1368

Read on AO3

--

Israel Hands was seven minutes and fifteen seconds into his frantic search for his captains or, indeed, any sign of life on the Revenge, when he finally heard Bonnet's voice ring through the halls of the gundeck.

“All right! Perhaps we ought to revisit and revise our ‘no more than two truths before a dare’ rule to ‘at least two truths before a dare.’”

The conversation was coming from the jam room, and Izzy hastened his steps in that direction, taking note of each voice that joined in.

“But then we’d barely get any dares!” Black Pete whined.

“I’m fine with that.” That was Spriggs, vaguely distressed as always. “I’m great.”

“Uh, it’s not Truth or Dare without any dares.” Black Pete again.

“Maybe that can just be a rule for Captain Ed and Wee John.” Roach then.

“Sorry about that,” Feeney said at the same time that Edward chirped, “Sorry, mate,” neither sounding particularly sorry at all. Was the whole fucking crew in there?

“Now, we don’t want to single anyone out...” Bonnet waffled--prompting a small chorus of “Yes, we do”--just as Izzy stepped through the door.

“Captain... s?” he asked, catching himself before he forgot to pluralize. He looked first to Edward then to Bonnet, taking in the room’s remaining occupants in between. It was, of course, the whole fucking crew. “Wh--?”

“Hey, Iz-dog!” Edward bellowed cheerfully, springing to his feet and barrelling toward Izzy with enthusiasm he had not anticipated.

“Oh, no, Izzy’s here!” Spriggs gasped, also jumping to fling himself at Izzy.

Edward reached him first, gripping his bicep and tugging excitedly. “You’ve gotta get in on this, mate. We’re--”

“I guess we have to stop having fun now,” Spriggs’ exaggerated lamentations rose over the rest of Edward’s sentence. “So sad.” Undermining his words, he grabbed Izzy’s other shoulder and leaned in to hiss, “What took you so long? There’ve been three fires already.”

“Fire?” Izzy darted his eyes between Edward and the boy before scanning the room more thoroughly. “Where is there a fucking fi--?”

“It’s out, Boss,” Ivan announced, and Izzy whipped his head around to see him stomping out the last embers of a fucking fire.

“Why is there--?”

“In my defense,” Edward cut in, snapping Izzy’s attention back to him, bright-eyed and grinning, “I was dared.”

Izzy held Edward’s unwaveringly mischievous gaze for a moment, just in case an explanation would be offered unprompted.

It was not.

“What are you--?” he began, valiantly suppressing most of a weary sigh.

“We’re playing Truth or Dare,” Jim interrupted this time, annoyed, though whether with him or Edward, Izzy wasn’t sure. He was getting whiplash all the same.

“What the fuck is--?” But Izzy cut himself off this time with a frustrated shake of his head, a growl dying in his throat. That one he actually knew, and it wasn’t the point. “Never mind. Edward, wh--?”

“You should play, too, Iz! It’s a blast!” The implish gleam in his captain’s eyes dimmed just slightly, his smile turning sheepish. “Didn’t mean not to invite you. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing.”

That wasn’t the point. It was not within five hundred nautical miles of the fucking point. But the genuine apology in Edward’s tone took Izzy off guard all the same, stayed his tongue while he allowed himself to appreciate it.

“Oh, of course,” Bonnet butted in before Izzy could find his words again, which was marginally better than interrupting him, but that margin was about as thin as Izzy’s patience. “You can squeeze right in, we haven’t been playing long.”

“Three fires,” Spriggs mouthed silently in Izzy’s peripheral vision.

“I don’t care about your fucking game.” It came out with more bite than Izzy meant it to even if it was true. (He was trying to be less of a dick. They all were. They were bad at it, but they were trying. It just was not the point right now.) “Edward, listen. Wh--?”

“Aw, don’t be like that, Iz. Play with us!”

“Edward, I need to--”

“Join the game, and you can ask him anything you like,” Bonnet said, chipper and smug. “When it’s your turn.”

Edward squashed Izzy’s delusions that he might consider reason by immediately nodding along. “There ya go, Iz, just wait your turn.”

On second thought, fuck the both of them.

“That settles it! Have a seat, Izzy,” Bonnet continued like he didn’t even notice Izzy’s heroic attempts to explode him with his mind. “We’ll do a few rounds so you can see how the game is played.”

“I don’t--”

“And then you can have a turn!”

“Captains--”

“Just let it happen, Boss,” Ivan muttered, calm and commiserating, throwing an arm across Izzy’s back. “Come sit with me and Fang.”

Not wanting to fight because they weren’t supposed to be doing that sort of thing anymore (and because Ivan could scruff him like a cat if he chose), Izzy allowed himself to be led to the bit of floor claimed by Fang, who beamed and scooted over to make room for them.

“Hi, Izzy,” Fang greeted as Izzy sat beside him. Izzy grimaced in reply, careful not to shift his weight onto his bad foot as he settled on the floor. Ivan sat on Izzy’s other side, bracketing him between his old colleagues.

“Does anyone remember whose turn we were on?” Bonnet asked, and conversation erupted through the room, everyone talking over each other while Izzy straightened his spine and tried to catch Edward’s attention through the chaos.

“Anyone who doesn’t love arson,” Spriggs groused, flopping in defeat beside Black Pete.

“Seconding no arson,” Boodhari agreed.

Frenchie laughed. “That’s not a big number on this boat, babes.”

“May I have a turn?” The Swede raised his hand. “I will not choose fire.”

And on and on the inane chatter continued, Izzy squirming in impatience as Edward looked everywhere but at him. He was nearly ready to snap when he felt a gentle touch at his back.

“It’s not so bad, Boss,” Fang murmured kindly, giving him that soft-eyed look that Izzy never knew how to respond to since he’d promised to stop yanking his beard. “Give it a chance. Maybe you’ll have fun.”

Izzy bit the inside of his cheek before he could spit something ugly. He clenched his fists until his fingernails dug into his palms, squeezed his eyes shut until he saw stars, and tensed every muscle in his body until he had no choice but to relax.

“Fun, huh?” He breathed in and out once very deliberately then opened his eyes to look at Fang, face carefully neutral. “All right. I can do fun.”

He would wait his turn.

Fang smiled like he was proud of him, and Izzy did not tell him to fuck off. Bonnet got the game started up again, and Izzy observed the proceedings dutifully. There didn’t seem to be any sort of logic to how the turns were taken, the rules were clearly made up as they went, and the truths asked and dares accepted were as ridiculous and reckless as he would have expected. Nevertheless, he was grudgingly impressed that the Swede could contort his limbs into a pretzel with such ease.

Finally, Bonnet looked to Izzy and spread his arms out with his customarily unwarranted pomp. “Now it’s your turn, Izzy. Ask anyone anything you’d like.”

“Fine.” Izzy looked Edward straight in the eye. “Truth or Dare?”

“Truth,” Edward answered, still constrained by the new dare limit.

“Who’s steering the fucking ship, Edward?”

“The fuck do you mean? Buttons is. Right, Buttons?”

Izzy watched realization dawn in Edward's eyes, his slow, horrified turn to the wall, where Buttons had been standing the whole time.

Buttons, very much not steering the ship, stared back, unblinking. “Olivia wanted to watch the game,” he said of the seagull perched on his head. “She’s a yen for hot gossip.”

“...SHIT!”

Edward tore out of the jam room, most of the crew stampeding after him. Izzy remained seated, Ivan and Fang still at his side and Buttons still against the wall. Under the thunder of footsteps and bickering and Bonnet shrieking in panic, Izzy smiled.

“You were right, Fang. That was fun.”

[meltedbluecaterpillar]

My liege, with requests open again, i’d like to request a Van Kiryuin x fem!reader where we edge him freak nasty (tucks hair behind ear)

Thank youuuu, feel free to delete or ignore 🙂 you do more than enough for us so there’s no pressure in this request 🩵

Take Me All The Way

A/N: Oh Van… Our big hunk of man Kiryuin Van. I have been waiting for an excuse to fuck him. I hope that you enjoy what I have made.

tags: Van Kiryuin x fem!reader, edging, slight bondage, handjobs wc: 659

Your hand gingerly rubbed at Van’s thigh. A smile crossed your lips when he shuddered beneath your touch. The muscle flexed as he squirmed against the sheets. “Y-You're not mad at me, right?” He asked with a nervous smile. His arms tugged weakly at the black silk tie that kept him trapped against the bedpost. His eyes hidden behind a brown, satin sleep mask. “Of course not. Is there a reason why I should be mad?” You cooed with a small tilt of your head. Your hand moving higher as his exposed cock twitched in excitement. “No! Of course not!”  

The conversation before this was short and sweet. Softly asking him to try something new between wet and messy kisses. His enthusiasm to please you had no end. And he proved that with allowing himself to be tied up and blindfolded. You sat between his parted legs. Your fingers dancing their way up his thigh and ghosting the flesh around his erection. “I jus’ thought... Maybe you could touch me now?” He laughed nervously. You could see how his hips shook in anticipation for just the slightest glide of your finger against the tip. You could see how it was shiny with precum.  

Throbbing impatiently as you listened to Van’s labored breathing, moving in closer as you curled your fingers around his shaft and gave him a slow pump. Feeling the velvety skin twitch and the veins pulse against your palm as you smiled in content. His chest heaved as you kissed at his jawline. Stroking his cock as a stream of clear fluid came leaking from his tip and wetting your fingers. “Please? Faster?” He was begging now. Van jerked his hips up into your hand. His bottom lip caught between his teeth. You could see how his face had flushed a deep crimson, and the pomade in his hair melted away. Leaving the brown mop a curly mess. “Please move your hand?” He whimpered as you slowed to a stop. Laying your body against his as you felt his quickened heartbeat thudding against you. Your fingers curling around the base of his shaft.  

The dark wiry hairs shone under the dim light from the sheet of sweat collecting on his skin. You gave him a small squeeze and he yelped in response. “How was that?” You asked jokingly as he lowered his head. A small string of drool made its way down his chin as you began to pump again. Hastening your strokes as you let Van thrust into your hand. It reminisced the way he would hold you by your hips and thrust into you. Knocking into that soft spongey spot you loved so much. His grunts and pats became louder, and you pulled you hand away again. Seeing his hips stutter as his toes curled against the blankets.  

Van exhaled a frustrated sound as he tugged at his wrists in annoyance. “Fuck me...” He growled as he tried pulling again. You could feel how the muscles tensed in your body. The bedpost knocked against the wall and you hesitated before reaching out again. Teasing the tip of his cock to soothe the anger he might be feeling. As much as you enjoyed his manhandling, that wasn’t part of tonight’s agenda.  

“Are you mad at me Vanny?” You asked teasingly. Mocking his earlier anxieties with a smile as he exhaled shakily. His body relaxing again as his legs twitched. You could see that he was ready to cum already. That was why you made the suggestion. As much as you loved Van, you wanted him to get some stamina training in. Your lovely minute man was fantastic with foreplay. But you wished he could thrust a little longer. “I ain’t mad...” He muttered as you kissed at his cheek, then bit the soft lobe of his ear. Cooing and stroking, taking him all the way to that precious high he never wanted to come down from.  

[itsadmiralactually]

Imprisoned Hearts: Chapter 6

CONTENT WARNING: violence & mention of night terrors.

Blackness.

            When I was a little girl, I was terribly afraid of the dark. Now, it is my ally. I sit in the refuge of its shadows, silent and aware of everything. Every nerve is on edge. I cannot say how long it has been. I cannot say I want to know, though I do wonder how long I have to live. I wonder how long it will be before he comes for me.

            I need not wonder what he will do to me if I am found. If my father does not object to the murder of an innocent servant girl, then I am most certain he will not object to accosting the life of his own flesh and blood. Yet doubt lingers within the depths of my loyalty.

            Would my own father, my dearly loved and adored Papa, truly allow Barclay to bring harm to me? All over some silly letter? But it is more than just a letter, isn’t it? It must be! Why else would he resort to such extreme measures?

My mind is racing… I do not understand!

            Who was that letter from? What did it say? Is it really worth all this violence, this madness? What is Barclay’s role in all this?

            Our parents have never objected to our sharing of correspondence with friends and family, or even our suitors. They only ask to receive it first so that they may inform us of its sender as a courtesy. This is the Rule of Letters, and I do not object to its purpose. It is no different than receiving visitors, is it not? But I’ve no more time to dwell upon the subject, for now I hear the faint sound of footsteps approaching. They stop on the other side of my door.

He’s here.

            My breath stills. My heart pounds fiercely. I freeze in place, tightening my grip on the candlestick holder. Someone raps their knuckles upon the door. I am taken aback by the sound of my father’s voice asking to be admitted.

There is only one reason why he would be on the other side: Barclay must have told on me.

            I render no answer, nor do I stir from my seat. The handle jiggles, and he discovers it is locked. He calls to me again, but I do not answer. I do not know what to make of it. I cannot see past the horrid sight of Penelope writhing just before Joseph snaps her neck. I cannot hear my father’s requests over Barclay’s threat rumbling like thunder in my ears. My father did nothing to stop it. He allowed that monster to murder an innocent girl. I do not think I can look upon him without disappointment and searing hatred ever again!

“Elizabeth? Are you alright, my dear?” His voice is laced with concern as he knocks a little more firmly. “Elizabeth? Answer me!”

            He jiggles the handle again. The door creaks as he attempts to push his way inside. For the moment, I do not panic, secure in my belief that the chair wedged against the floor will stand against his efforts should the lock fail.

“Elizabeth! Open this door at once!” he bellows, pounding his fist. He pauses to mutter something.

I cannot make out his words, but it is clear he is not alone. Someone else is with him? A chill races down my spine.I know it can be only one of two people.

            Another set of footsteps hurries away down the corridor. His attempts to gain access to my bedchamber grow more fervent, and the next few minutes become a deafening assortment of angry demands, incessant pounding, and creaking wood as he pushes against it with all his might.

 All at once, his efforts cease, and it is as if time has stopped.

            The world about me is silent, except for the howling wind. My breath hastens, my eyes fixed straight ahead; watching, and waiting. Muffled whispers emanate from beyond my door. One voice is my father’s. The other is deeper, with an accent I cannot place at the moment.

Suddenly, my door explodes.

            The impact sends the chair wedged beneath the handle tumbling across the floor. Light bursts into my room from the corridor, illuminating flying shards of wood as the handle is ripped away. I start from my seat with a gasp, darting into the shadows before I am seen. I seek shelter behind my wardrobe.

Hesitantly, I peer round the corner.

            A tall and slender figure enters. In the dimness, I see his head swiveling about, looking for me. His features are obscured from my view, but I am convinced it is Barclay. He is blocking my only means of escape… and I realize what I must do.

            I duck behind the wardrobe and press my back against the wall, clutching the candlestick holder against my bosom. My heart is racing; I do my best to quiet my breath, yet I tremble so fiercely that it is nearly impossible. I swallow my nerves, trying to muster my courage. I have never brought harm to another soul in my life! But I must if I am to survive!

I listen to his footsteps drawing closer, closer… and then I attack.

            Lunging from my hiding space, I swing my weapon with all my might, striking him firmly on his temple. He cries out in pain and staggers sideways. I make for the door, but he recovers sooner than I anticipated and ensnares me about my waist, tearing me away. I scream, flailing wildly in his grasp. He pries the candlestick holder out of my hands and traps my arms against me, thwarting my efforts to strike him again. I realize my hands are still free, so I seize his arm and sink my teeth into his finger. He roars in my ear and shoves me to the floor. I scramble to my feet and race round to the other side of my bed, seizing hold of another candlestick holder from my night table. 

“Elizabeth, I demand you cease this madness at once!” my father barks from amidst the darkness.

            I freeze in place, furrowing my brow. His figure is indiscernible as he fumbles about my room, bumping into my day table and at last finding his way to my fireplace. He strikes a match, and my eyes widen as his features become clearer when he ignites the candelabra on the mantle. The trail of crimson streaming down the side of his face instantly catches my eye when he finds me, and I realize what I have done: I have just struck my own father.

I did not mean it; I truly believed it was Barclay that had intruded upon me… but I am not sorry for it.

He regards me with an air of caution and slowly makes his way round the bed—as a predator stalks his prey. “Elizabeth… my dear, dear Elizabeth…”

“Don’t come any closer or God as my witness I shall strike you again!” The words tumble out of my mouth.

He does not heed my warning. “Lizzy, there is no need for this—”

I raise the candlestick holder as if to throw it. “—Not another step! I mean it!”

He halts his approach, raising his hands. There is a moment’s pause between us before he speaks. “What is troubling you, my child? You’re all out of sorts. Come now: talk to me.”

“There is nothing left to be said between us!” I refute.

“Steady now,” he says calmly, his eyes watching my every move.

“You murdered Penelope! There is nothing left to be said between us!”

He glances about in uncertainty. “I don’t know what you’re on about, Elizabeth, but I assure you: whatever it is that you’re imagining… it is not real. It is all in your head.”

I am mortified by his denial. “All in my head? Papa… how can you say such things?! I saw you–I saw everything! You let that fiend murder that girl! Over what? Some silly letter?! Why? What harm has she done to you?”

“I tell you, I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about!”

            Had I not witnessed his crime with my own eyes, I would have been fooled by his unwavering assertion of his innocence. His performance is rather convincing, and I know not whether to praise him for it or acknowledge its wound.

            It is not lost on me, of course, that the letter had been for Anna. I had caught a glimpse of her from my window walking about the Garden this afternoon, just before Barclay’s return. She had had a letter in her hand. Papa said Penelope had left a letter on her dresser without his approval by mistake.

“Has it something to do with Anna?” I inquire.

He resumes his approach, his voice soft and reassuring; as it used to be when I was a child. “I don’t know about Anna, but at the moment, my primary concern is you. I fear you are unwell, my dear.”

I glare viciously at his audacity. “Oh, I assure you I am quite well, Papa. You are the one who is unwell.”

“Elizabeth, listen to me: you are experiencing another one of your terrors, just as you did when you were a little girl. Remember? They were always so terrible for you.”

            My fear of the dark, spawned from a condition from which I have not suffered since early childhood. I shake my head, utterly disgusted that he would sink so low as to force me to revisit the past. That part of me—that little girl who would awaken in the middle of the night screaming for her hero, her father—desperately longed to believe his reasoning. I desired nothing more than to rush into the security of his embrace and forget this night; to pretend that this was all just a dream and that this man before me, this monster, was not my dearly beloved Papa. But Penelope’s murder and Barclay’s threat, of my Papa’s involvement in it all, were permanently ingrained in my mind. The bond between us had been severed beyond repair. And now, I was in fear for my life.

“No, Papa,” I whimpered, blinking away my tears. “I have not had terrors since I was seven. It is all a lie.”

He dares to take another step. “Elizabeth, listen to me: it is all in your head, my child. None of this is real. Let me help you.” He reaches for me, but I draw back.

“No, you’re lying! It is not in my head! I know what I saw!” His denial breaks me. Tears stream down my face unchecked. There is a pain in my heart, and it is difficult to breathe.

He inches closer—too close. “Elizabeth, I beseech you—”

“—No! No, get away from me!” I back against my night table. I am cornered. I edge closer to my bed, preparing to make one final dash for the door.

            One look and he realizes the truth: that I am not to be taken for a fool; that I am not a simpleton like Penelope and I will never trust him again. What he has done, I cannot look past. The man I knew as my father no longer exists. In his place now stands a stranger and I’ve no desire to know him. He perceives this, and what is left of the kindness and warmth in his gaze vanishes into a look that truly terrifies me: it is the same look Barclay wore when he threatened my life.

“I think you know I can’t do that,” he says. “Come now… I only wish to talk.”

            He grows silent. He is but two strides from me. I say nothing, staring into his face, feeling my own streaked with the tears. He regards me with a warm smile and opens his arms as if to invite me into them, to encourage my acceptance of his bribe… but I see behind his ruse. It does nothing to soften the blow of his betrayal.

            As he lunges for me, I hurl the candlestick holder at his face. I do not wait to see if it makes contact. I bolt across the bed, nearly reaching the door—and then I am seized by someone dark and massive that I can only determine is Joseph. In that moment, I lose all sense of myself, devoid of all sense and reason beyond this gripping need to survive.

            In that moment, I became a wild beast—a shrieking, stark-raving madwoman hell-bent on escaping the clutches of this bloodthirsty murderer, well aware of his previous crime and of his capacity to do it again. I claw viciously at his burly arms entangled about me, digging my nails into his flesh. He growls in pain as I sink my teeth into his hand, planting the heel of my foot into his groin for good measure when he releases me.

            As he doubles over, I bolt through the broken door. But Barclay is just outside. I manage to evade his efforts to snatch me, but here my good fortune ends. I reach the top of the spiraling staircase. I hear Barclay thundering after me. My foot slides away beneath me and I feel my ankle twist. I plunge headfirst down the steps, tumbling, tumbling…

… And then I am enveloped in the blackness once again.

<---Previous Chapter Next Chapter--->

[scribeforchrist-blog]

Tearing Disobedience Away  

MEMORY VERSE OF THE WEEK

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+ Psalm 70:1 Hasten, O God, to save me; come quickly, Lord, to help me.

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VERSE OF THE DAY 

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+ 1 Samuel 14:37 So Saul asked God, “Should we go after the Philistines? Will you help us defeat them?” But God made no reply that day.

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SUBJECT:  Tearing Disobedience Away  

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** SAY THIS BEFORE YOU READ; HERE’S SOME CHRISTIAN TRUTHS **

I AM FAITHFUL TO GOD

I AM KIND

I AM COMPASSIONATE 

I AM NOT AFRAID 

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READ TIME:9 Minutes & 13 Seconds

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THOUGHTS:

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  As we have been discussing this week, submitting to the will of God is an essential aspect of living a life of faith. However, we haven't yet delved into what disobedience looks like. Many of us don't realize when we are being disobedient until God reveals it to us. Sometimes, we may ignore His guidance until He points out our wrongdoings. In those moments, asking for forgiveness and showing genuine remorse for our actions is vital. It may be difficult to change course when we have already started in the wrong direction, but as we strive to live for God, we must listen to His voice and follow His lead. Let us always strive to be obedient to God and His will.

   1 Samuel 13:8-9 Saul waited seven days for Samuel, as Samuel had instructed him earlier, but Samuel still didn’t come. Saul realized that his troops were rapidly slipping away. So he demanded, “Bring me the burnt offering and the peace offerings!” And Saul sacrificed the burnt offering himself.

    This was the first instance in which Saul disobeyed God's instructions. Samuel had asked him to wait and offer a sacrifice, but Saul's troops were trembling with fear, and he felt he was losing their support. In a moment of insecurity and fear, Saul decided to take on the role of a priest and perform the offering himself. This is a common mistake we all make – jumping ahead of God's plans and doing what we think is best instead of following His guidance. We often let the opinions of others sway our decisions instead of trusting in God's plan for us. But we must remember to focus on God and not on people, for in the end, His will is what truly matters.

   1 Samuel 14:33 Someone reported to Saul, “Look, the men are sinning against the Lord by eating meat that still has blood in it.” “That is very wrong,” Saul said. “Find a large stone and roll it over here. 

    The people started to eat the animals without draining the blood, the word of God says in 

   Leviticus 17:13 Any Israelite or any foreigner residing among you who hunts any animal or bird that may be eaten must drain out the blood and cover it with earth,”

   King Saul, in his attempt to save the lives of his men, took it upon himself to take action by rolling a stone over and commanding all the animals to be brought to him for slaughter. In doing so, he realized that their actions were a sin. However, he was trying to make it right in his way. This reminds us that when we sin, we cannot simply correct it through our actions. We must seek forgiveness from God. It is often tempting to overlook our sins and sweep them under the rug, but it is essential to remember that we must give them to God and ask for His forgiveness. He is ready to forgive and help us overcome our mistakes with His grace and love. So, let us not hesitate to approach Him with our repentance and allow Him to guide us on a path of righteousness.

  1 Samuel 14:37 So Saul asked God, “Should we go after the Philistines? Will you help us defeat them?” But God made no reply that day.

  When we sin and refuse God's help, we block ourselves from hearing His voice. This is often the first indication that something is wrong in our relationship with Him. There have been times when I have not heard God's voice and immediately knew something was wrong. In those moments, I would ask God what I had done to disappoint Him. Without fail, He would reveal to me my wrongdoing, and I would ask for forgiveness. However, when we continue to sin and ignore God's signs of wrongdoing, we are essentially ignoring Him. This is the worst thing we can do, as it shows a lack of respect and disregard for any offense made to the Holy Spirit. It is essential to listen to God's conviction and seek His guidance to maintain a healthy relationship with Him.

   1 Samuel 15:3 Now go and completely destroy. the entire Amalekite nation—men, women, children, babies, cattle, sheep, goats, camels, and donkeys.”

   It's important to remember that God gives us opportunities to fix our mistakes and do the right thing. We should never let our emotions, or the opinions of others affect the decisions we make. Sometimes, we may get caught up in pleasing people rather than God, but we should always prioritize pleasing Him in everything we do. He has given us the gift of free will and the chance to make things right, and it is up to us to use those opportunities wisely.

   Verse 9 Saul and his men spared Agag’s life and kept the best of the sheep and goats, the cattle, the fat calves, and the lambs—everything that appealed to them. They destroyed only what was worthless or of poor quality.

  It's interesting to see how Saul's actions in this situation go against what God had commanded. Instead of completely obeying and destroying everything as instructed, Saul decides to spare the king and keep certain items that he deems valuable. This goes against what God wanted, as he wanted complete destruction as a form of punishment for the Amalekites' treatment of the Israelites. It's frustrating to see Saul refuse yet again to do what the Lord commanded him. One can't help but wonder why he chose to go against God's will. It's essential for us always to follow the will of God, even if it may not align with our desires.

  Verse 10 Then the Lord said to Samuel, 11 “I am sorry that I ever made Saul king, for he has not been loyal to me and has refused to obey my command.” Samuel was so deeply moved when he heard this that he cried out to the Lord all night.

  It's a tough lesson, but sometimes our disobedience can have serious consequences. In the case of the king, his actions caused the Lord to regret ever making him king and ultimately led to the loss of his kingdom. This serves as a reminder that our unfaithfulness can result in God taking away our blessings and potentially replacing us. It's a sobering thought but one that should make us reflect on our own lives and actions. Will we continue to ignore God's guidance in the small things, or will we listen and obey so that our calling and dreams can be fulfilled? Let's strive to be faithful and obedient, even in the little things, so that we can be ready for whatever God has in store for us in the future.

  *** Today, during our discussion, we delved into the topic of disobedience and the consequences that come with it, such as separation from God. Many of us may not always recognize our faults or errors, but it's essential to make it a daily practice to ask God to reveal anything we may have done wrong. We should ask Him to open the eyes of our hearts so that we can see our faults and correct them. We must submit to His will daily, as our desires may lead us astray. Sometimes, we may not even realize our sins because we are unwilling to accept that we have done wrong.We must strive to walk in God's will and seek His guidance in all we do so we can stay on the right path and avoid disobedience.

  Verse 24 Then Saul admitted to Samuel, “Yes, I have sinned. I have disobeyed your instructions and the Lord’s command, for I was afraid of the people and did what they demanded

    As Christians, it is essential for us to have an open and accepting heart towards the fact that we are not perfect and will fall short of the glory of God. However, we must not use this as an excuse to purposely disobey Him or get caught in a cycle of continuously disobeying Him. Our desire to be heard by others should never be louder than our desire to hear God's voice.

As believers, we must remember that God alone should be the head of our lives, and we must not allow other voices to lead us astray. Let us strive to tune out the world's noise and listen attentively to God's voice, for He alone knows what is best for us.

©Seer~ Prophetess Lee

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PRAYER

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Heavenly Father, We thank you so much for everything you have done for us. We are truly grateful for your love and blessings. Lord, I ask that you always help us hear your voice and be obedient to your will, no matter what. Guide us and lead us into your perfect plan for our lives. Lord, we rebuke any spirit of rebellion and disobedience in our lives. We declare victory over any traps the enemy may try to set for us. Thank you for your love and protection; in Jesus' name Amen

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REFERENCES 

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+ John 14:15 “If you love me, you will keep my commandments

 

+ Luke 6:46 “Why do you call me ‘Lord, Lord,’ and not do what I tell you?

 

+ Romans 6:23 For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.

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FURTHER READINGS 

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Proverbs 21

Psalm 110

2 Chronicles 14

Hebrews 7

Hosea 9

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[bodrewritten]

Daughter of Discord Rewritten Chapter 9: Catch & Release

11:20 AM, October 7th

"Is your talent gardening? Cuz that's a weird thing to get goin in the fall." Dinky guessed.

The children were in the schoolyard where Apple Blossom was showing off her new cutie mark: a pink flower floating on wind.

"Nope," she replied. "My talent is perfumes!"

"Huh?" every pony uttered.

"Actually, I have Thunder Dash to thank for my cutie mark. Tell you what, When he told me the other day that I smelled nice, I got an idea!"

Thunder kicked a bit of dirt. "Well- of course! I'm the best crusader we got!"

"I'm glad I did! See, that morning, one'a my Ma's apple pies fell on my head and that's why I had that smell! I figured I could use that smell to make a perfume!"

She opened her saddle bag and withdrew a small spray bottle. She spritzed some at Maple Cinnamon. The earth pony huffed, then took a whiff of himself.

"s-s-smells... Alright." he said bluntly.

"So why is your cutie mark a flower and not a perfume bottle?" Dinky asked.

"guess it's cuz I made the perfume with apple blossoms that I had pressed in my scrapbook," Apple Blossom explained. "They had fallen off the trees before they could turn to apples. Mom says my cutie mark means I can give every pony my apple-y flowery scent!"

While every pony congratulated Apple Blossom, Screwball sat on a bench and doodle in the dirt with a stick.

"did'ja hear how Apple Blossom got her mark?" Taco Grandé said, bouncing with every word.

"Screwball!" The filly jumped and turned to Apple Blossom.

Screwball shook her head. "Sorry, Blossom. Congratulations on your cutie mark!"

Her other friends had gathered round to see what she had been so occupied in.

"Since when did you become so cutesy?" Thunder inquired.

"What do you mean?" Screwball asked.

Lightning pointed to the dirt. It was covered in little hearts and a few big ones with the initials 'SB' and 'MB' written in them. Screwball dropped her stick. She had not realized she had been drawing all that.

"Ooh!" Dinky exclaimed. "Who's MB?"

"ooooh, you wouldn't know him!" Screwball teased, using her magic to make the incriminating doodles disappear.

Apple Blossom scrutinized her face. "Wait a minute." She gasped dramatically. "No way! Screwy's got a coltfriend?"

"well, I wouldn't go that far-" she can't go that far. Nobody can know anything about him

"You so do! You're blushing like crazy!"

Dinky squealed. "Oh my gosh! Who is it?"

"Is he cute?"

"What color is his mane?"

"Spill!" Apple Blossom urged. "Who is it?"

Screwball was literally saved by the bell. As the other foals hastened inside the schoolhouse, she let out a sigh of relief.

Over the past month, she and Prince Mothball have been meeting up frequently. In those meetings, they had played, laughed and confided in each other. It was becoming harder and harder for Screwball to keep the secret from her friends and family. She was so proud to have mothball that it was hard to remember nopony else was.

When she came home with a dreamy look in her eyes, her parents were especially suspicious.

"Tell me, you also think there's something funny about our daughter?" Discord said.

"yeah. Not wrong," Fluttershy replied, resting her head on her hoof. "just peculiar."

"I'll say! You think there's a colt in her life?"

"she hasn't liked any boys at school since she enrolled, and there's no new colt at school as far as-"

"wait-flutters, what if it's a filly?"

She put her hoof to her forehead. "By Jove, I hadn't thought'a that." They looked at eachother for a beat, and giggled.

Slowly slinking towards her husband, Fluttershy stretched her hooves up to his face and from there, planted a neat little kiss on his goatee. Fur nuzzled down onto her face and discord spoke softy to her.

"regardless, should we not talk to her about what's expected of her now that she's dating?"

"we don't even know that she's dating, but yeah. You should be the one to explain the rules. I'm done with that line of work after the oven fiasco." With that, Discord waltzed on over to his daughter's room.

Screwball glanced up from her homework as her dad swung the door open.

"sooooo... Who is it?" He approached her, wrapping his snake body along the air.

The filly blinked. "What are you…?"

She sighed. "Yeah, okay- I get it papa, no there's no colt."

"You mother is on the crazy suspicion that you have a crush, haha.... Not me though. Not that it's a bad thing, just wanna know. I mean, anything. Not like everything but you can tell me an-"

Discord laughed awkwardly and a crooked smile pulled from the corner of his mouth. "Well I mean- doesn't have to be a colt- not that I'm assuming you're not into colts! It wouldn't be wrong either way, but like, if there's anything you need to talk about-"

"Nah. Thanks anyway though."

"What do you call these objects again?" Mothball asked, examining the strange substance in his hooves.

"that would be a bell."

"they sound beautiful."

"I didn't think you'd like em. Most of the time bells sound terrible. Unless it's heart's warming. Bells sound different then."

"I do not know what that is either. Perhaps that is a question for next week."

Mothball tapped his chin. They had been going back and forth with questions ever since their first meeting.

"Your unicorn friend," he said, "the one with the strange eyes? How did that happen? Was it an accident?"

Screwball shook her head. "Dinky's condition is genetic. Her mama, derpy, was top of her flight class until it got worse over time. Oh, dinky and I were actually born on the same day! One year we have the birthday party at my house, the next at Dinky's and then at mine and so on."

He scratched his head. "What is a birthday party?"

She blinked. "Wow. You really need to get out more. A birthday party is a party you have to celebrate the date of your birth."

"I figured. Birthdays would be every day in the hive."

Screwball snickered. "Aunt Pinkie would have a blast!"

"this pinkie, she would be the hyper one?"

"You bet your tail she is! Although she's not really my aunt, she's still one of my favorites! She can turn any bad day around just by being herself. Plus, she gave me this cool hat!"

Mothball sighed. "You have an amazing family, even as most of them are not related to you."

"I don't get it. Aren't there changelings your age for you to play with?"

"our hive learns the necessary skills for the hunt every day, with one day off to rest our muscles. Scouts learn military tactics, as well as our generals and other positions of defense. out even at this, I alone have to learn even more than usual. I am set to be king."

Screwball glanced down and circled her hoof in the ground nervously. "Does it…hurt?"

"Does what hurt?"

"When you feed on ponies' love…do you…hurt them?"

Mothball cringed. "Well…when we drain them of their love, we drain them of their power. They slowly weaken, and weakening hurts. Like starving to death." He paused and backed away from Screwball. "Maybe we shouldn't…"

The filly gasped and pointed to the sky. "Look! A shooting star!"

She closed her eyes and concentrated.

"What are you doing?" the prince asked.

"If you make a wish on a shooting star, it'll come true," she explained.

"What did you wish for?"

She laughed. "Silly! You can't tell your wish, or else it won't come true!"

"I fail to see how a star can possess magical wish-granting abilities."

...

"shut up about it, jeez." Screwball laughed.

"Ooh, there's another one! This one's yours! Go on! Make a wish!"

Mothball glanced at the filly and then at the star. He thought the idea a bit silly, but he did not want to disappoint his friend. Before the star burnt out, he shut his eyes and silently made his wish: I wish I were not a changeling, so I could have a heart.

Mothball was prepared to meet Screwball for a game of beach volleyball. He had made a hole in his wall leading outside, concealed by a beaded cloth, the only decoration he had been allowed. Lifting the cloth, a chill ran up his skull, implanting itself into every cell.

"Going somewhere, Mothball?"

The prince gasped and turned to face his mother. He faked a grin

"W-what are you talking about mother-"

Chrysalis bared her teeth to the boy. " Don't you dare to smile at me! You can cut the charade, boy. I know of your secret exit, and where you've been sneaking off to the past several weeks." She hissed at him and she shrunk down to the corner of his room.

Mothball gulped. There was no use hiding now that he had been caught red hoofed. He heeled and bowed to her.

"I'm prepared for my punishment, Mother," he said, shutting his eyes with a shiver.

"Punishment?" Chrysalis said, raising an eyebrow. "You want me to punish you for doing exactly as I told you?"

He opened his eyes and looked up at her in confusion. "What?"

"I asked you to find out whatever you could about the halfling and you have! The silly filly doesn't suspect a thing! That is, of course, unless you have gone behind me back to do something I ordered you not to do." The queen leaned down to the boy, cramping him. He cringed like she snapped at him as a dog would, when in reality she'd done nothing at all.

"What do you mean?"

The queen smirked as she laid her hoof on the colt's shoulder. "You are doing so well, boy, you are ready for the next level of your training, and it will require long and tedious hours, so your little scheme will have to be put on hold."

Mothball choked at what his mother was saying

She seemed to read his thoughts. "This spawn of Discord could be more useful than I thought. She could be the key to our success! And you, mothball," she lifted his chin towards her, "will be the one to turn that key in the lock. First lesson in your new level of training, son:" she grinned at him evilly, "breaking a heart."

The prince could not speak. His mother chuckled darkly.

"Go," she commanded. "Meet your little friend and inform her you are unable to see her again. But don't just tell her. Break her! Be cruel, be cold, be vicious!"

"You…" Mothball stammered. "You…w-want me to…w-what?"

"Break the filly's fragile heart and enjoy the pleasure you'll get from it!"

"B-b-but…"

His legs quivered. She would know. She had spies everywhere. He had been a fool to think he could sneak out unnoticed! She had only let him go so he could do her dirty work. Now she was asking him to break the beautiful heart he admired and envied and to emotionally hurt the pony it belonged to. He wanted to refuse, but how could he? He could not disobey his mother. He had seen her kill for less.

A bright green flash of light burned itself around Mothball's throat, crushing his windpipe. "If you choose not to do as I say, I will know. I will drag you through hell."

As Mothball approached the chocolate lake, he saw that it was surrounded by sand. Screwball stood by a net, bouncing a volleyball on her head. He smiled at her innocence and then frowned at what he had to do.

When Screwball saw her friend, she caught the ball in her hooves. "What took you so long?"

"I, um…" he stuttered. "I…had trouble sneaking out."

She shrugged. "That's okay. You want to serve first?"

Her swirly eyes sparkled with excitement. He looked away from them, as if they would pull him in and tear him apart. He searched the trees for changeling scouts, but did not expect to find any, for they were masters of camouflage. He would bet his life that they were watching right now and would report to their queen on his actions.

Mothball stepped closer to Screwball, still avoiding her gaze, and took a deep breath. "We can't play volleyball tonight, Screwball."

The filly's grin wavered, but she kept it up. "Okay. We can play something else, if you wanna."

"No, Screwy…I…see…I can't play with you anymore."

This time, her smile vanished completely. "What? Why?"

His mother's words rang through his head: Be cruel, be cold, be vicious!

"I…" He narrowed his eyes and lifted his chin in an uppity fashion. "I don't want to play with you anymore! You've…you've gotten boring!"

Screwball dropped the ball in disbelief. "Mothball, what's going on? Why are you lying to me?"

He winced. He had forgotten that she was a living lie detector. Leave before she could reveal him to the prying ears all about them.

"I'm not lying!" he insisted. "I've grown tired of you! It was fun for a while, but…then it became dull. And to think I risked getting into trouble for you! You're lucky no one caught me!"

Another lie. Screwball understood now. They were being watched, and so he was pretending to be cruel. After a long pause, she realized she had to play along. Even if he couldn't tell.

Screwball's eyes widened in realization. She could sense how untrue every word was, He had been caught, possibly by his mother. But why was he acting like this?

"you mean nothing to me! You're a waste of a good spawn!" Yeah! Keep it familiar!

"Well, fine!" she snapped. "Maybe I'm tired of you too! Hell, I'm downright sick of you!"

Mothball was slightly taken aback, but straightened up. "Well, speaking of hell, if I wasn't so in control of my emotions, I'd be inclined to say that's the sort of place you should consider making a visit...towards!!"

He could not tell if she had gotten his message, but the spies were watching and he had to retain his image. He was sure she could not understand his true intentions.

"You know? You were never my friend, mothy! You're just a dumb- uhhh, critter!"

He felt a pain in his chest, soothed only when he realized she called him mothy... She knew. Of course she did! Do not smile! He then turned on his hoof and took to the skies. As he flew away, another changeling pat his back in second-hand embarrassment.

"it appears that she has completely cooked you, your majesty. I am sorry about that."

Screwball bit her cheeks. It was the best she could do to contain her grin

He had been lying.

[josefavomjaaga]

Yet ANOTHER fiction snippet

But this will be the last, I hope. And it's only because it's the 200. anniversary of Eugène's death today. The text below is in fact translated from my very first story set in the napoleonic era, after hearing about Eugène had sparked my interest. It's the longest story I ever wrote, and one of the few I finished and even self-published. I've also shortened it a bit because I tend to be blabbering too much.

The scene takes place in Milan in early June 1805. Napoleon has turned the Italian republic into the Kingdom of Italy and now is searching a monarch for it. But his brothers, to whom he turns, all refuse. After having discussed his brothers and the reason why they refused at length with Caulaincourt (yes, I know, him of all people. No, I do not know why he would do that other the fact Caulaincourt happened to be in the room. Listen, this was my first story, okay? 😋), he resumes:

"All right, so my brothers are letting me down one by one. I have to take the crown myself, but I can't rule France and Italy at the same time without risking trouble with Austria. I must at least appoint someone to act as my governor in Italy. Any suggestions?" "Well, for the sake of argument, I must point out to Your Majesty that Prince Jérôme was not even asked whether he would accept the kingship of Italy." "I was thinking of serious suggestions, Caulaincourt. Jérôme can't command a rowing boat without help. If he gets his act together for a few months, gives up his American wife and submits to my command, we can consider elevating him to higher honours. Not before that. Who else do we have?"

"The most obvious candidate for the office would be your current Vice President of the Italian Republic, Francesco Melzi d'Eril." "Melzi? No, no. As vice president, he was a simple civil servant. This guy won't go any higher than that. I definitely don't want an Italian as viceroy. Fickle people, only pursuing their own interests. I need someone I can rely on here, a Frenchman, preferably someone from my family." "Well, both Prince Joachim Murat and Her Imperial Highness Princess Caroline Murat have repeatedly expressed their willingness, indeed their hope, to be considered for the posts in Italy."

"Did I not make myself clear, Caulaincourt? I said: I need someone I can rely on. - Murat!" He fervently motioned with his hand through the air. "Have you forgotten the ways he managed here as governor during the revolutionary wars? The Italians haven't, you can bet your life they haven't! [...] Pauline's husband is Italian, so he's out of the question, especially as the Lombards wouldn't accept a Roman as their ruler. And Elisa's Baciocchi? I'd rather pick a random oaf off the street to crown him! - Which reminds me ..." He wheeled round, stormed to the door and tore it open. "Duroc!" he shouted out into the anteroom. "Where's our little cutie?" Grand Court Marshal Duroc, busy sorting through some papers, seemed to have to think for a moment. "He's invited some officers from his chasseurs regiment to breakfast, if I'm informed correctly."

"Get him over here right away! His guests can have their coffee without him." He slammed the door shut again, folded his arms behind his back and continued to walk up and down, trapped in gloomy brooding. Grand Stable Master Caulaincourt, who knew his emperor, was careful not to disturb this contemplation. A few minutes passed in complete silence before the Grand Marshal entered in person to announce Prince Eugène Beauharnais. »At last!" Napoleon hastened across the room towards Eugène. "Listen, Prince, I have a task for you. If you've already packed for your journey back to Paris, go unpack straight away. You will stay in Milan. I hereby appoint you Viceroy of Italy."

"P-Pardon?" stuttered the young man, and both the grand marshal and the grand equerry shouted in disbelief: "Eugène?" "Yes." The emperor beamed and slipped a hand inside his unbuttoned vest. "What's wrong with that, gentlemen? The boy is not stupid and he has been in need of something meaningful to do for a long time. Besides, with him I can be certain that he will at least try to do what I tell him. An ideal solution. I'm very pleased with myself; the best idea I've had for a long time." "But sire," the young man objected. "I'm only twenty-three. And a soldier. I mean, I haven't learnt anything else. I don't speak Italian. I have no idea about portfolios and budgets and taxes and accounts…"

"Well, at least you realise that there are such things. With that, you're probably ahead of quite a few of my civil servants." His tone changed abruptly, he stepped next to his stepson and put his hand on his shoulder. "Listen, my boy, I know I'm throwing you in at the deep end. But you can do it, I'm sure of it. You don't need to worry about important things anyway, I'll decide those myself. What I want you to take care of here is the day-to-day business. Parliamentary sessions, submissions, petitions, promotions. [...] You'll have a lot to do. Italy has almost no army and what it has is in a terrible state. You will have to rebuild everything from scratch; reorganise the existing regiments, streamline the administration, build barracks, bolster fortifications, establish officer schools ... now don't look at me so fearfully. I'll write it all down for you. You'll see, it's not witchcraft. It's important that you don't allow them to steal your thunder. You have to show the Italians who's boss. Don't be too soft, don't be too kind-hearted. [...] Don't let anyone read my letters, not even Méjan or Melzi! Preside over the parliamentary sessions, meet your ministers once a week for reports, and learn Italian. Don't pretend to know more about things than you really do; nobody will believe you anyway. Don't let the Italians fool you and beware of flattery. Don't trust anyone! Above all," he added in a suddenly changed tone, "never sit on my throne! The only exception: you have to represent me in an important matter and I have expressly ordered you to do so. And if you do, hang a picture of me behind the throne so that it is clear that you are only representing me and speaking on my behalf. Otherwise, you are to sit on a chair next to or in front of the throne. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sire." Eugène nodded, having grown increasingly pale over the course of the speech. "At your command, Sire." "Very well. Then I will shortly present you to the parliament. Go and say goodbye to your mother in time; I think the Empress and I will return to France soon." "The Empress won't be at all pleased to see her son stay behind in Italy," Grand Court Marshal Duroc dared to remark. Napoleon dismissed the objection. "She will have to get used to the fact that he can no longer cling to her apron-strings all the time. And you, Caulaincourt, why are you looking so gloomy?" "If I may be so bold as to say so, Sire: the appointment of Prince Beauharnais will undoubtedly cause discord in the imperial family." "Yes," Napoleon Bonaparte beamed. "That's what I like best about my plan. I can't wait to see which of my dear siblings will be most annoyed."

[vickyvicarious]

It was in the latter end of August that I departed, to pass two years of exile. Elizabeth approved of the reasons of my departure, and only regretted that she had not the same opportunities of enlarging her experience, and cultivating her understanding. She wept, however, as she bade me farewell, and entreated me to return happy and tranquil. "We all," said she, "depend upon you; and if you are miserable, what must be our feelings?"

1818

It was in the latter end of September that I again quitted my native country. My journey had been my own suggestion, and Elizabeth, therefore, acquiesced: but she was filled with disquiet at the idea of my suffering, away from her, the inroads of misery and grief. It had been her care which provided me a companion in Clerval—and yet a man is blind to a thousand minute circumstances, which call forth a woman's sedulous attention. She longed to bid me hasten my return,—a thousand conflicting emotions rendered her mute as she bade me a tearful silent farewell.

1831

One last comparison from today's chapter - and it's another 'let's remove nuance from Elizabeth to make her more of a caring/supportive woman figure' change!

In 1818, when Victor leaves, she thinks he has a good idea (remember his reasoning was to see more of the world before settling down to married life) and wishes she could do the same. A small moment, but one that ties into feminist themes regarding the difference between treatment of/expectations for men and women. This also reminds me of Safie and Felix; she was quite well traveled, but when moving about under her own power could only go straight to seek a man who would offer her refuge. She also needed to be taught by Felix, including geography which definitely struck me as pretty condescending given her background and a clunky way of ensuring the Creature would know where he was going. Finally, Elizabeth ends by crying and worrying about Victor, leaving him on a question. Not only does that emphasize the uncertainty surrounding his own actions, and even the entire narrative of the novel - it also is phrased in a way to exacerbate his feelings of responsibility towards his family. And of course, thus his failures to meet said responsibilities. If he is miserable, what must be their feelings = their feelings depend upon him, and his failure to be happy/finish things with the Creature manifestly makes life worse for them. Not that I'm saying Elizabeth is intending anything but to express concern, but the way she does so ties in well with ongoing themes and weights on Victor's mind.

In 1831, Elizabeth's reaction is changed dramatically. It might not seem so at first, given that she worries about him in both versions, but let me explain. Rather than considering his reasoning and deeming it worthwhile, this Elizabeth simply agrees to the trip because Victor chose it himself. In 1818 Victor that would have been more of a sign of him coming out of his shell and taking charge or his own life, but since 1831 Victor has already been more consistently doing so, this reaction doesn't read that way. Instead it gives a more passive "well, I trust you, dear" kind of meek wife vibe to me. Similarly, this Elizabeth doesn't spare a single thought for her own desires outside of worrying for Victor; in losing that we lose the feminist angle. She is worried about him suffering away from her, and so provides him another companion, but even then worries because Clerval as a man could never be as dedicated to Victor's needs as she is as a woman. Elizabeth has nothing on her mind but taking care of Victor. She still cried this time, but instead of asking Victor to take care of himself, she instead begs him to return to her soon. This also emphasizes the romantic relationship between them, especially given that in 1818 she doesn't seem to mind him being gone multiple years, while in 1831 she's much more concerned about a trip planned to be less than a year. Finally, by losing Elizabeth's parting question we not only lose how it ties into all those themes of family/duty/failure... she also is literally silenced. She doesn't get a speaking line at all, doesn't get to wish she could travel too, doesn't do anything but worry over Victor and hope he comes home soon.

Not huge changes to the text, but I think it's a pretty decent impact on Elizabeth's character.