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ndjournal · 1 year ago

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Hey there!! I wanted to share an experience I had after reading your excerpt from The Ultimate Truth posted @4dbarbie-archive yesterday. It really resonated with me and it inspired me to want to practice conscious creation instead of letting it happen because of subconscious programming. In particular this part (which is most of the extract lol):

Man was never intended to be a victim of circumstances. He is the controller of them, but has lost awareness of this fact. When he regains his awareness of it, he again becomes the master of circumstances, and consciously controls his environment. Matter, energy, space, and time are in mind. When man realizes this, he has mental control over them and controls them at his will. Man is unconsciously determining the world. When he wakes up to this, he gains conscious control. Creation is just a mental projection.

Lester also said in the Introduction of the book that it is necessary to prove it to yourself and never accept anything completely on hearsay:

A unique characteristic of this Truth is that it must be seen my each one through his own perception. No one and no book can do it for him. Necessary is the proof of Truth, and necessary it is that each one must prove the Truth for himself. Nothing should ever be accepted on hearsay. One should listen to, reﬂect upon, and then prove. The best attitude one may take would be to not believe nor disbelieve, but to accept Truths for checking. Then, and only then, after one has proven them without a doubt should one accept them. As Truth begins to prove itself, one gains more conﬁdence in it, and then proofs come more easily and more readily; until ﬁnally, one perceives the Absolute Truth, — that we are unlimited beings, unlimited in our knowledge, power and joy.

So I've understood non-duality to a certain extent starting my "journey" from when 4dbarbie was still around and it felt like I eventually came to a sort of standstill. I just sort of fell into a lull and didn't feel anything about life in general. I really resonated with the teachings, stopped desiring anything and had let go of a lot of things but still didn't really feel connected to Self entirely (it would come and go). Recently though, I thought about how my life is just a mental projection of subconscious thoughts and how I would rather be able to consciously control it. For background, I've been using energy manipulation to heal my body using my mind and I think that's when I started to truly know that everything is just a projection of the mind (there's a much deeper innate knowing that comes from experiencing it than reading something and accepting it as truth). Then I started thinking back on the things I had "manifested" simply by deciding it to be so. And then I saw your excerpt and it really clicked for me.

To me, consciously controlling your circumstances is a "skill" because we're so used to living in limitation, it can take some time and development in order to remove those illusions of limitation (of course, it needn't take time, it depends on the individual!). I know in some LOA blogs, they call it intention setting so it's within the same vein imo. Anyway, after reading that extract and reading some of the book, I decided I wanted to practice conscious creation and strengthen this innate ability in order to connect me closer to the understanding and knowing that I am an infinite limitless being. Lester said "Matter, energy, space, and time are in mind." so I want to test all these although less so energy manipulation as I have already done this in numerous ways already. To me this was easier than the others but I now recognize that is a concept of limitation that doesn't need to be so as they are all equally mental projections. And I am not doing this to "get" any desires since I don't have any anymore, I am only doing it to remember the real me and exercise my innate natural ability of conscious creation and also "prove" it to myself through experience that I am limitless as Lester teaches.

I will give one example of "success" since I started last night! There's too much background history that I won't go over but basically this friend of mine stopped messaging me a few weeks ago and this had been a repeating cycle for a few years and it used to trigger me so much. Through being on this path, I let go of caring about it or wanting things to be different. But last night I decided to use this case scenario as a test subject for practicing conscious creation because I know I used to have a lot of mental resistance and triggers when it came to this person and if I really did succeed, it would truly be proof to me that this was purely a result of my conscious creation and not anything else.

So I decided in my mind that this friend would message me on instagram, I decided I didn't care if it was a text message or sharing a reel (though he normally sent reels so that would be most likely). I could still feel uncertainty over this after deciding so I decided it would happen the next day (today) in order for the test results to be more verifiable as not having a deadline could mean he could message me next year lol, too vague. I briefly saw it in my mind's eye the message but didn't dwell on it after, I just decided it would happen. Aaaanyway, I opened my IG messages earlier and GUESS WHO MESSAGED ME WITH A REEL!! I just laughed and got so excited, not because of receiving the message itself (since I let go of desiring anything from him long ago) but because of the proof it represented of my conscious creation! I want to emphasize this distinction because I had tried to "manifest" a text from him in the same way so many times before (because it's been a repeating cycle for so long lol) but it also came from a desire and attachment for the message itself (and connection with the person), while this time there was none of that but was from a non-attached perspective of just experimenting and testing my ability and wanting to practice and improve it. I want to add that I also had previously used LOA to "reality shift" to a "different reality" where he had messaged me the same day instead of leaving me on read for several weeks through "imagination" (this was way before I learned about non-duality so it was still driven by attachment and desire) but I gotta say this way of simply deciding it to be so is so much easier, simpler and better than having to "live and persist in imagination" lol but to each their own I guess?

So anyway, this is really exciting for me and I am going to continue on this way for fun!

🥳

Thank you for sharing your experience, that's awesome and I'm happy for you! 💖 Keep having fun and feel free to keep us updated on your future experiments!

This is the post anon was talking about. I highly recommend Lester's books for those who haven't read them yet (or have but want a refresher).

Edit: Adding this excerpt from The Ultimate Truth with my highlights

#applied #submissions

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mediocreanomaly · 1 year ago

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Heya! Same patchwork anon here >:]

Im so glad you like the idea! And id definitely see Vash being so protective of it, but sir we need to clean that omg 😩

But i did wanna shoot another reply cause i had another thought (Its 3am, so its the perfect time for thoughts) but imagine instead of white solid thread for Nai's janky ass milk puzzle blanket, its instead stitched with colored thread to at least give it some more life :0

I do like the idea that Nai just keeps it hidden, but imagine Nai's mate finding it and wanting to improve on it more, so little by little theyve been hand-embroiddering stuff on each patch to give it more life, and Nai doesnt notice cause he doesnt really lay it out often, and one day he just has this urge to look at it again, maybe give it a chance and add it to the nest, afterall its the thought that counts right? but then he spreads it out and sees the different embroiderry, like hearts or flowers that Nai's mate saw in books~ Theres even an ongoing embroiderry that makes it clear that his mate has been stitching this behind his back lol

(okay thats all sorry for the ramble im just so weak for them huhu)

Authors Note: Oh my gosh??? I'm so sorry for being away everyone work is busy busy busy rn, gotta serve up some of my drafts fr...anyways! Patchwork anon strikes again! You know nesting hc's are my weakness I had to indulge, R.I.P. Knives milk puzzle.

In reference to both of these post: Nesting Hc's, Patchwork Anon

A Blanket of Many Colors, Knives x Reader

You run your fingers over the blanket you had gifted Nai, the patchwork of white making the blanket look more like a haphazard ghost costume rather than a gift you'd painstakingly sown together. You sigh, you didn't really blame Nai for hiding it away in fact you'd been a be relived when you found out your mate kept the scraggly piece of fabric at all. While the vision had been there the end result had ended up lack luster at best.

You groan, about to tuck it back away in its hiding spot for good when you pause over one of the squares. Although by itself it wasn't much...it'd be the perfect base for something else. You think of what you could fill the tiles with, you had more than enough colored thread to add a bit of life to it, you mull over a couple options before remembering the book of flowers Nai had shown you once, his expression had soften as he explained the differences between each species. Inspired, you quickly grab the blanket and march over to the large bookcase in the corner of Nai's room, running your fingers over the spines of the books trying to find the correct one.

"c'mon...it's gotta be here somewh- ah!" you say triumphantly, pulling out the book containing pictures hundreds of different flowers. You'd been amazed when Nai first showed you, plants like this didn't bloom on Gunsmoke, so the idea of their soft petals were all you had to go off of. You quickly flip through the book picking out one of the flowers and grab some red thread and a needle, ready to go to work.

Some where along the way this little practice had become routine for you. Every time Nai was away or you were bored you'd sneak over to the cabinet your mate had stored the blanket and add a small embroidery. Adding a different flower every time until the blanket was becoming a colorful tapestry of your own making. You weren't sure if Nai even knew what you were doing, if he did he didn't say anything about it. So you continued the harmless pass time figuring he had just forgotten about the gift to collect dust.

He hadn't. Nai was, admittedly, particular when it came to his nest and he knew it. He'd mull over the sheets over and over making sure they were the same shade of white and that they were both soft and large enough. When you had presented him with the hand made blanket...it wasn't that he didn't apricate a gift from his beloved mate, it's just that he cringed internally anytime he thought about it in his nest. He couldn't bring himself to throw away something made by your hands though, so he had stored it away for safe keeping, not wanting anyone else to get their filthy hands on something made specifically for him.

It wasn't until a couple months and one tedious day later that he found himself marching towards his quarters. His instincts where screaming to wind down and drag you into the nest with him but you were out in Ja'Lai, escorted by Legato. He huffs, thinking of grabbing some of your clothes to add to the nest for your scent but then grimaces at the idea of all that disorganized fabric against the white sheets and pillows. He pauses looking at the cabinet that contained the gift you had made all that time ago. Although he still bristles slightly at the idea of it sprawled out in his nest...maybe it's the thought that counts? No. Absolutely not. But he could at least drag it out for a little while, maybe it wasn't as bad as he remembered.

Nai opens the cabinet and reaches in for the blanket but when he pulls it out...his eyes go wide. He holds it up so that he had a better view of what he's seeing, flowers he had only seen as a child blossom against the white fabric painting a scene of an intricate garden that only his memories and dreams could recreate. Had his mate been doing this the whole time? He tilts his head and gently traces the patters of the petals and whining stems that adorns the blanket now, then...he glances up towards his nest.

"Nai? You you here?" you call walking towards your shared room. The others had informed you of your mates arrival while you were out in town and you were eager to welcome him with open arms. You pad in, cold floor beneath you feet. He must be curled up in the nest it's where he liked to recharge after being gone. You walk towards the bed where you know a heap of white blankets and pillows is waiting as you quietly peek in the room. Your mate is in the nest alright, but...instead of the usual stark white, a myriad of color litters the top. Your blanket, you realize, is now the main center piece of the nest, curled securely around your sleeping mate as he purrs in his sleep, plant marking glowing softly. It seems...he liked the gift after all.

#knives x you #knives x reader #trigun x reader #knives millions #patchwork anon at it again #nesting plants...my heart

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imonthemoonitsmadeofcheese · 4 months ago

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Hi are you still going to create a Drifteris story even after what happened to Bungie, your one of the people who is making this ship alive especially the situation about the future of Destiny 2. Also what is your reaction regarding what happened to Bungie?

Yes.

In fact, I think I shall start doing something I previously avoided and begin cross-posting writing here in order to attempt to increase the amount of love in the world.

Because it always has been, and always will be, about love.

Remember that. Think on it. Allow yourself to be steeped in it. Let it suffuse throughout your being.

Up to and including Heresy, we will have the writing of those who were so cruelly amputated.

I will cherish their work and honour it. I will feel their love within the words and sounds and visuals and ideas and I will radiate it back toward them and you and anyone who will listen as strongly and fiercely as I can.

I have been among those left behind when a large organization reduces their workforce. It is very hard. You are surrounded by the ghosts of those you spent years with, many of whom became, and still are, your friends. The work becomes exhausting and the stress overwhelming. You do not feel you are good enough to continue without them, but you try. You do your best. And, especially if it is a creative project, you persist, as Eris did, to honour those you lost. To prove that their work mattered. That it was not for nothing. But are you good enough to do that? Is it even possible to attempt with the wreckage of what is left? You don't know.

I have been among those culled when a large organization reduces their workforce. It is frightening. Your security is threatened. You are not sure how you will pay your rent. But also, there is a very large emotional and social impact to the loss. People you saw every day are suddenly gone. Things you once were deeply connected with, that you wanted to see through to the end, are now something you do not get to finish. You are left without the possibility of closure for so many things. It is unmooring, uprooting, disconnecting. A fracture in the brain.

I have been watching what those who have been laid off are saying openly, in particular the writers I know of (although I sadly do not know of them all, and would appreciate anyone who can connect me with more). They are proud of what they have done. Writing for something like Destiny is completed well in advance of when the audience gets to experience it. I have seen them post messages about looking forward to seeing their work brought to life. I have seen them say they still, themselves, want to play the game.

Beyond Heresy, I will watch carefully and see whether or not those left behind are allowed to make beautiful things or if their efforts will be ground into the lifeless paste their corporate overlords seem to want. But the way the ones who lost their jobs have spoken about still wanting to play the game indicates to me that they have faith in those they were forced to leave behind. I trust their judgement. As long as the people who loved this game enough to put pieces of their soul into it still believe this is a game worth playing, I will remain cautiously optimistic.

As for my reaction to Bungie? They have made the wrong decision. Profoundly. And this has gone on for a long time. The cancer is old and runs deep, like the Hive infesting the Moon. We are only seeing the surface. The Hellmouth is so much worse. The person in charge of Bungie has openly flaunted their excessive wealth while their employees were relying on assitance for groceries and rent. The high level management people who have chosen to 'diversify their portfolio' by spending money on expansion rather than focus on giving their employees security, do not care about the art, the complexity, the beauty and the inspiration Destiny has given to so many people. They do not care about putting more love into the world. My only surprise is that TFS did not provide at least some temporary insulation to protect everyone who worked so hard on it. But the world of corporate profit and shareholders is so divorced from reality it makes sense they would see a goose laying a golden egg and, instead of feeding and pampering the goose so it could be happy and healthy, decide instead to cut off its legs.

The worst part of all of this, for me, has been seeing the toxic reactions of other players. I am heartbroken and have felt the need to divorce myself from online spaces where mental and emotional poison was being spewed unmoderated and unchallenged. I understand despair, hopelessness and anger toward those who have harmed the thing we love. While I do not agree with them, the people who are pre-emptively mourning the death of Destiny are doing so out of love and their fears are not unfounded. Attacking the victims of the layoffs, however, is viscerally offensive to me to a profound degree. It makes me emotionally ill.

If you surround yourself with poison, you will get used to it. Eventually, you will become poisonous yourself. Do not normalize hatred. Do not marinate yourself in poison.

When everything hurts, when people around you are hurting, if you are able to do anything, choose to put more love into the world. It is hard when it seems as though there is no hope and you feel blind and lost, but it can, and does, matter.

Eris Morn: We'll live in the night if we have to. I've been there before. So have you. So has the Guardian. Drifter: It ain't pleasant. Eris Morn: No. But necessary. For what follows. Drifter: And what's that? Eris Morn: Dawn.

Aiat.

#destiny 2 #writing #the drifter #eris morn #drifteris #drifter/eris #the drifter/eris morn #bungie #layoffs #destiny #love #sad #ask #ask me more things if you wish #I do have a backlog of asks and I will get to them eventually #apologies to those who are still waiting for a reply - I will still answer you it just may take me a little while - trust

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missnight0wl · 2 years ago

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Alright, but let’s actually talk about Callum McClintock

Fun fact about me: when there’s a new young but adult-looking man in HPHM, my first reaction is often: “it could’ve been Jacob”. This is how it was with Orion, with the Wizard in White, and Callum was no different. Well, he was kinda different because I thought: “OMG, are you real Jacob??”. And at first, it was totally a joke. But then I talked with @thedoodlecat who inspired this whole theory. Because she pointed out that “Callum” means “dove” and that there’s a particular relationship between doves and peregrine falcons. You know what that relationship is?

Peregrine falcons hunt and eat doves.

ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME??

And I know what you’re thinking: it’s JC we’re talking about, they don’t know what they’re doing at this point. And you’re not wrong! However, JC also loves to play with names. Alright, but where’s Jacob in all of that? Admittedly, Callum doesn’t have to be Jacob. But on the other hand… it does make sense. And I know, I know, I might be influenced by my desperate wish for vault!Jacob to be fake… But just bear with me, please.

First of all, we’ve spent way too much time on the whole mystery of where exactly Callum works and being just a janitor feels too random to be a coincidence, in my opinion. If Jam City simply needed someone to help MC with cursed artefacts, they could’ve made Callum a Curse-Breaker or an employee of any other department who happens to be very passionate about curse-breaking. But no, Callum is not just some guy. Even if he’s not secretly Jacob, I believe that Callum had some past with Peregrine/R, especially when we consider the meaning of his name.

Ok, so does it mean that Callum hides in the Ministry? Well, it’s possible. Although I think it’s also possible that he’s allowed to stay IF he works as a janitor. Being a janitor means that he has no real influence. R might even believe that he has no access to anything important. Moreover, the janitor’s job might be seen by them as humiliating on its own.

And by the way, here’s a funny side note for you. Remember when Merula was making fun of MC for being a janitor at the Ministry?

HMMM…

Back to Callum, though.

Ok, but if he is Jacob… Well, I assume that R would have to manipulate some memories of some people and basically erase Callum!Jacob from existence. That’s why Callum can’t really go to anyone for help: nobody remembers him. On top of that, R might find out about it sooner or later. So, he stays low. Moreover, a while ago (in this post), I talked about the letter R sent to Jacob after Duncan’s death, where they mentioned “Miss Green’s fate”. I pointed out then that it might refer to Olivia’s memories being modified and that it’d mean Jacob had to know about it. So… what if Callum does know about it? And he was absolutely heartbroken that Olivia didn’t recognise him when they met recently at the Ministry?

Also, let’s talk about Callum’s last name. Because yes, “McClintock” is a surname of Scottish and Irish Gaelic origin which fits Callum’s “Scottishness”. But you know what’s actually the first result for this surname? “Barbara McClintock”. And Barbara is well known for her research in genetics. In fact, she was the first woman to receive an unshared Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine. So, here’s my question: why the hell JC chose so very specific last name? I mean, sure, it might be a coincidence. But why not one of the more generic Scottish surnames? Why not Campbell, Stewart or Murray? Well, what if McClintock’s genetic research is actually important?

Alright, I admit that this part might be the biggest stretch in the whole theory, but this name just seems odd to me. So, you know how I keep talking about MC and Jacob possibly being connected to the Cursed Vaults by blood? And how MC and Jacob are born Legilimenses, for example? The point is that there’s something going on when it comes to family, so perhaps the choice of “McClintock” was supposed to be a very loose connection to that? Because here’s the thing: Jacob we know from before the Portrait Vault was a huge nerd. And he would definitely get interested in a such potential connection and tried to study. And I’m sorry, but Callum McClintock totally gives “a huge nerd” vibes.

I mean, just look at them:

A) A huge nerd, an intellectual, loves reading old books, probably said: “the dustier, the better” at some point in his life. Would absolutely come up with his own code by modifying Ancient Runes (that would impress Rowan Khanna some years later).

B) A half-brain. Gets into fights after football matches and gets drunk with his bros.

Also, can I just say that Callum showed more concern about MC during a couple of minutes than Fugly Slut over the whole time since we got him out of that stupid portrait???

Finally, one more silly thing. As you can see above, Callum has black hair. Interestingly, Peregrine also has black hair and it doesn’t change based on MC, unlike his eyes or skin colour.

Now, I’m aware that it’s totally possible for dark-haired people to have light-haired children… But considering that dark hair is a dominant gene, wouldn’t it make sense that at least one child inherited Peregrine’s hair colour?

Anyway, I guess that’s it for now! Again, I’m ready to accept that Callum is not Jacob – though I will cry from happiness for a week if he is… But I’ll actually be surprised if he has no connection to R whatsoever. I don’t know, maybe he simply runs his own investigation in his free time or something? I suppose it’d be enough for Peregrine to want to hunt him down.

#long post #hogwarts mystery #hphm #hphm spoilers #hphm mc #hphm jacob #hphm peregrine #hphm r #callum mcclintock #olivia green #analysis post #theory #hphm theory

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ebp-brain · 2 years ago

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chapter 1 on ao3

1985, London. The wizarding queer art scene revolves around a gallery called the Bent, where conceptual artist Remus Lupin and photographer Sirius Black exhibit their works, and a club called the Bush, where they spend time with Jane and Lily Potter, who work at a nearby heath clinic. Although war with Voldemort was averted, the wizarding world is still simmering with tension. In the face of increasing intolerance and calls for censorship, Remus’ art takes a riskier, more political turn, and he must figure out how to balance self-expression and safety. Also, he might be falling in love with his best friend.

Author's notes:

This fic came out of both love and anger. Love for queer and feminist artists in the 80s and 90s who risked their reputations, safety, and livelihoods to take photos of men in BDSM gear or talk openly about sexual violence, who refused to whittle themselves down into something straight society would be comfortable with. And anger at contemporary laws like Florida's "Don't Say Gay" bill and violence directed at drag queens and trans kids, and at the strain of gay conservatism that thinks the solution is to eliminate representations of kink, nonconformity, and radicalism from queer art and media. This is a fic about the struggles and the joys of being queer in a way that isn't meant to make other people comfortable.

It's also about friendship and intimacy and solidarity and falling in love! It's about sticking together in the face of danger and figuring out who's really got your back. It's also about what happens when you accidentally have sex with your best friend in the bathroom of a gay club. Oops!

I wasn’t alive in the 80s, but this era of queer life and culture has always felt singularly important to me. Part of this probably had to do with the fact that I was a theatre kid, and theatre people tend to remember the AIDS crisis pretty vividly, since it took so many of their own. (Also, I was very into Rent in high school.) Part of it is because a lot of foundational queer theory comes out of this moment. I imprinted pretty hard on Epistemology of the Closet in particular, which is in many ways a response to AIDS-era homophobia. And many of my teachers were around, or taught by people who were around, during this exciting, terrifying period of queer history. As I post a new chapter every Sunday, I'll also post author's notes, photos, and links to additional resources about the real-life people and events that inspired this fic.

This week, here's some stuff about queer art and artists in this period:

Photos by David Gwinnutt of Stephen Linard and Cerith Wyn Evans

Some good articles:

Blitz spirit: the queer art underground of 1980s London – in pictures

Queer Life in the '70s and '80s: Art, Activism, & AIDS

22 Photos of LGBTQ+ Writers, Artists, & Activists of the '80s and '90s

Sending love to you all. Take care of yourselves! <3

#the bent #bent posting #harry potter #harry potter fic #wolfstar #wolfstar fic #remus x sirius #earlybloomingparentheses #my fic #cw homophobia #cw transphobia #cw AIDS

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yukidragon · 2 years ago

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Not sure if you've talked about it before (Apologies if you have and I just didn't see the post) but I was replaying the game and when Jack starts talking after the whole "You don't miss him, do you?" "..." "Aw, Sunshine..." exchange, it sounds so personal.

"He promised you the moon and stars. But what did it all amount to, in the end?" That's not the entire exchange but the way it's phrased... Sure, it could be Jack trying to nudge MC away from Ian, trying to really hammer it home that considering getting back together with Ian isn't worth it, all the heartbreak. But for some reason, it sounds to me like Jack is talking about his own experiences?

Now, we have absolutely nothing to go on but I feel like he COULD be talking about someone he used to be in a relationship with (or at least was very close with), who also worked on the show. Could be a director or... (and this is me reaching. Like, REACHING reaching) but what if Jean (aka Raspberry Rory) and Joseph were involved? If Jean (or a director) promised Joseph the moon and the stars, made all these lofty promises? To be together forever, to reach new heights? But then the relationship crashed and burned. Perhaps they didn't expect Joseph to get as popular as he did and got jealous. Maybe other things happened and all those dreams of staying together? Nothing but dust. Which would hurt Joseph, who, from the tidbits we got had a VERY unstable (home)life, very, very deeply. Opening up to someone is hard and was probably harder for Joseph and if his partner was a guy, that would doubly go because of the attitude re: homosexuals of the 80s. Or maybe whoever Joseph opened up to played him like a fiddle and took advantage of his vulnerability?

Hence why Jack sounds so bitter when he is talking with MC during that scene.

(Bonus points if 1) Jean and Joseph were involved. 2) If Jean was the guy who killed Joseph in a fit of jealous rage. 3) Ian really is Jean's kid. Can you imagine the fury Jack would feel upon connecting all the dots?)

That line from Jack stuck out to me too. It inspired me to write one of my darkest theories, the Tragedy of [Redacted] in fact.

Also, maybe it's just me, but when Jack almost seems distracted at this particular part, as if he's remembering something. He's looking away the entire time he says it and sounds a little distant, which is a credit to his VA to put so much emotion in his lines.

Jack He promised you the moon and all the stars…And I bet he did it so well… … Jack …But what did it all amount to in the end? … Jack He doesn’t love you…He can’t love you… … Jack Nobody who can do what he’s done to you knows what love even is.

It certainly lends more evidence to me that Jack is seeing parallels between the way Ian hurt MC and something that happened to him in the past.

Although it's a popular headcanon that Jean was jealous of Joseph or even was the reason for the murder, we don't actually know if that's the case. For all we know, Jean could be revealed to be someone just as sweet as the pastries he pretended to bake on the show.

I do, however, think that Joseph was taken advantage of back when he was alive. The way he cautions MC about "other people" makes that pretty clear. Also, he asks what Ian "provides" to MC to make their pain worth it. Did he have a toxic lover who "provided" him with something he needed as Joseph? Did they make him feel like he had to "provide" something they deemed significant enough for him to be loved?

It's possible too that it relates to Jack being a star... specifically the way he was used by LambsWork Productions. Producers could've promised Joseph the moon and all the stars... or at least a life of stardom. But in the end they erased everything about him. They didn't actually care about him at all.

That possibility is a bit of a stretch, admittedly, due to the emphasis about love. Also there's the fact that Jack is a yandere, whose love has been twisted. His past probably plays a big part in that, all things considered...

Given some of the hints we've gotten about Joseph's past and the way people treated him, I have a feeling that he had quite a difficult time when it came to love...

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur

#Sunny Day Jack #Something's Wrong With Sunny Day Jack #SunnyDayJack #sdj #swwsdj #Headcanon Ramblings #Ask

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bad4amficideas · 2 years ago

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In/succubus!reader details

I've been having dreams about succubus/incubus! reader. Like, background info. I couldn't write a book, but if you want silly details for a video game and its world, I'm your dwarf woman. (I won't say that history writes itself, but I don't know where this came from)

Anyway, you know from that post that I made a long time ago that the reader could feed on platonic or romantic affection but someone killed the platonic found family they form so Reader went to America in search of a vendetta and to find out who and why killed them when they was literally doing nothing wrong?

Reader can feed on strong emotions from the environment, such as concerts, meetings and the like, without harming anyone because it has no particular objective.

Reader had, an adoptive russian mother, the biological son of the adoptive mother, a best friend/surrogated sister from an abusive home. Two pseudo uncles and a granma that they found on the streets.

If they is well fed, they can influence the emotions of others.

They used this to create a "quirky" modeling company (meaning everything, ALL body types), influencing people's acceptance so they would see beyond the physical. The company quotes the Addams family "Normal is an illusion. What is normal for the spider is chaos for the fly." Guess the company name.

Of course, Reader could only do this with a body that fit the description or more like would not fit the traditional beauty standard (her grandmama is the agency's most beloved model, she dresses from leather to hippie and looks fucking good in both).

This company is trending in Europe and Reader used the excuse of branches to go to America.

The first (and traumatic) time they had sex they didn't kill their bed partner because they was well fed with their family storge and philias love and ate more out of gluttony than anything else (The partner ended up in a coma for a few days, like Rogue from XMEN and Reader when hype and super for the same period of time). Of course, eating emotions is quite an experience depending on what you eat

As Reader hit puberty, they and her sister had a strained relationship until Reader learned to control their hormones.

The more powerful Reader is, the more people, or more powerful people, they needs in the Family. In the long run, the Family benefits from the relationship with the in/succubus, with longer life, immunity to disease, and youth (although this takes time to discover).

Reader tries that if they has to attract someone into the "fold", it's people for whom the family can offer a good life. They doesn't take anyone out of their life against their will. Reader even tries to force themselves to like people, though that doesn't work out.

They found their uncles and granmama volunteering at a soup kitchen, "adopted" the ones they liked.

It is likely that the murder of The Family has to do with either the comatose mate or Reader's original family.

Their first runway in America was hero-thematic. It was fucking long for obvious reasons and people loved it. No, Reader did not choose a hero, although her initial idea was for them and their family to be like firefighters, doctors, garbage men, policemen and so on. The Family died and that was taken off the runway.

The first time Reader encountered superheroes, she was more interested in seeing if their outfits had been well-inspired and in the materials of the supersuits.

"Reader, one step away from being Edna Mode"

Now, this is weird, but my dream branched off here and on one side, instead of being superheroes, they were all magical creatures too. The fact is that by p or r, Reader ended up involved in the super / preternatural community

Either way, they first meets Clark because he got "punished" covering non serious, celebrity gossip. He didn't smell anything. But he smelled something. I don't know if you understand me.

Then they actually met The Flash and anyone I can't remember now who is involved in the police and forensic world (oh yes, Dick *facepalm*). They was asking for second opinions on the murder of their family.

To all this, between opening a new branch, chasing the murderer of THEIR family, moving, traveling from corner to corner of the USA. Reader did not realize (or refused to accept) that they had to start substituting their family or feeding themselves at least a bit each week.

If they didn't want to mug someone and kill them with one hit. Or go into an orgy and not kill anyone by distributive property of energy.

Here I cry because I would write a smut with the Batboys. Or Flash, Green Lantern and Green Arrow, or all the Lanterns or the Outlaws or the Trinity or idk, you understand me.

IF I KNEW WRITE.

ADOPT THIS STORY. MAKE YOUR -my- DREAMS COME TRUE.

#👾.txt #free prompt #cubbus!reader #Bruce was a vampire #Damian werewolf-vampire #Dick an incubus #Jason a ghoul #Tim a vampire but not a pureblood #as he is always reminded #or a vampire hunter. Clark was a High Fae #Oliver an elf #Dinah a siren (like #feather one not scaled one)#the Lantern Corps where wizards #Diana still a demigod.

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thxnews · 1 year ago

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Building Stronger Ties and Helping in the DRC: UK's Commitment

Strengthening Partnerships for Progress

The Power of Collaboration We’re here to see for ourselves the reality on the ground; to listen and learn, and to understand how the UK can best support. Don’t hesitate to talk to us and tell us what we need to know! I promise to visit Goma and the east of the country regularly. As you know, the UK has had a permanent presence here in Goma since 2006, fostering stronger connections with our partners in the region.

Recognizing the Importance of Collaboration

Achieving Together First of all, we need to be very clear about the fact that, these days, nothing worthwhile is done alone. Everything we achieve, we do with the support, partnership, and friendship of others. Whether you are here tonight as MONUSCO, UN agencies, the international community, civil society, implementing partners, Congolese authorities, businesses, or others, you are all here because you are our friends. Secondly, it’s about remembering why we’re here tonight. We are celebrating the many, rich and diverse ties that unite our two countries and our two peoples. Strengthening Cultural and Educational Exchanges These ties go all the way back to the very top of the state - indeed, His Excellency President Tshisekedi was one of the very first heads of state to be received by His Majesty King Charles III last year. This meeting reflects our shared interest in climate and conservation leadership. Our ties go back a long way and extend far beyond our leaders. Wherever I am in the DRC, I discover new links with the UK - I hear there’s a British bishop in Goma! Showcasing Inspiring Examples The same is true in the UK, where I am discovering Congolese communities everywhere, offering Congolese food, and working in finance or research. As a proud Scot, I must highlight the inspiring example of Dr. Deborah Kayembe, who was born here and appointed Vice-Chancellor of the University of Edinburgh, the first African woman to be elected to this ancient and prestigious post.

Enhancing Collaborations in Various Fields

Exploring New Avenues of Cooperation I look forward to seeing how we can strengthen our links in the fields of culture, education, health, energy, climate, and many others. The third part is the most serious. Although tonight is a happy occasion, I must acknowledge the serious security and humanitarian challenges facing so many people here. Commitment to Humanitarian Assistance I am proud of the support we continue to provide, including the new $26 million humanitarian aid program we announced for the DRC this year. We welcome the recent decision by the United Nations to step up its response to the humanitarian crisis in the East. It is essential that our two countries do everything in their power to support its implementation, in particular by granting humanitarian access. Emphasizing the Importance of Peace Processes But we are also aware that the humanitarian response, however necessary and vital, is not the solution. Rather, the solution lies in the painstaking and exhausting work of peace processes and peace-building. If it were easy, it would already be done. Collaborating for Peace and Stability Today, of course, many are working with the facilitator, President Kenyatta, to give new impetus to these efforts. I want to make it clear that the UK is a friend of the DRC, that we fully respect the sovereignty and territorial integrity of the DRC, and that we condemn all aggression and violations. We fully support the Luanda and Nairobi processes, we recognize and appreciate the essential role of MONUSCO and the UN family here, as well as humanitarian actors and civil society, that we give priority to the protection of civilians, including against acts of sexual violence, and that we are doing and will continue to do everything in our power to support peace and stability.

Unlocking the Potential of the DRC

Harnessing the Power of the Congolese People The potential of this great country is immense. Already, every day, I see the spirit of innovation, determination, and enterprise of the people of the DRC. Last night, at a dinner in Kinshasa with business leaders, we learned that businesses in Goma are among the most profitable in the DRC - an impressive testament to will, capacity, and opportunity. Balancing Challenges and Opportunities Here in the East, the promise and the peril are both very clear. The risks and consequences of unwise, short-sighted, or selfish decisions are borne immediately and terribly by innocent civilians. On the other hand, judicious decisions, strategic patience, and determined peace-making can unleash the promise. Millions of young Congolese men and women deserve their rights to dignity, respect, security, and stability. If they have them, there is no limit to what they can achieve. Gratitude and Hope Thank you. Asante sana. Sources: THX News & Foreign Commonwealth & Development Office. Read the full article

#celebratingties #Gomapresence #humanitarianchallenges #innovationanddetermination #partnershipandfriendship #peaceprocesses #potentialoftheDRC #rightsanddignity #securityandstability #UKsupport

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is-it-mungojerry-or-rumpelteazer · 11 months ago

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I'm going to consider this comment as permission to highjack your post, because I just finished re-reading Earthsea and I am always up for discussing Ursula K. Le Guin (my absolute beloved).

Before I do, though, I'm going to add a caveat: the fact that the main characters in Earthsea are not Black but Native American is only remotely a rebuff of the author's point: although the oppression faced by Native Americans is different than the one faced by African Americans, it would be extremely hypocritical to talk as if they hadn't faced any. And Earthsea doesn't have the systemic genocide of Achpelageans either. The closest the book gets to racism is when Ged is travelling on an Osskilian ship and he gets called "Kelub, the Red" by the white shipmates.

I'd want to add, though: Le Guin doesn't address racism and systemic enslavement in Earthsea. If the author wants to see representation of that kind, I'd suggest he goes for "Four Ways Towards Forgiveness", which is clearly inspired in US Southern slavery.

Now that we've gotten that out of the way, don't worry about not remembering, especially if it has been a while and you were quoting someone who said that! I'm just surprised that a critic making a point on racialization in Le Guin's work would get that wrong: Le Guin's ties to Native Americans is one of the first things I always see mentioned when talking about those issues, it seems a surprising mistake to make.

For context, Le Guin's parents, Alfred and Theodora Kroeber [1], were two anthropologists focused on studying California's Native American tribes. In particular, a story that comes out a lot is that of Ishi, the last surviving member of the Yahi tribe, who was a research assistant at the university under Alfred Kroeber and a close friend of the family. You might have seen this picture of her father and Ishi floating around (I know I have):

In an article published around the time of her death, the author says:

His family were effectively refugees in their own lands, dwindling in number until, with the death of his mother, Ishi was left entirely alone. Indeed, “Ishi” was not his real name. The Yahi had a cultural practice that required one to be introduced to a stranger by a mutual friend before names were exchanged; because Ishi literally had no friends, he was unable to reveal his name, and so simply went by the Yahi word for “man.” [2]

Sound familiar?

As for my claim that the people in Earthsea in particular are unequivocally not described as Black, don't take my word for it. One of the good things about having just finished re-reading 'A Wizard of Earthsea' is that it is really easy for me to find the quotes I need, because it's really fresh in my mind. The translation is mine, because the book I have at hand is not in English, so the wording might be slightly wrong.

[Ogion] was a dark man, like most people of Gont, with dark copper skin and grey hair... [emphasis mine] 'A Wizard of Earthsea', Ch. 2

Jasper sat Ged next to a burly man called Vetch [...] He talked with the accent of the West Reach, and he had dark skin, almost black, not brown-red skin like Ged and Jasper and most people of the Archipelago. [emphasis mine] 'A Wizard of Earthsea', Ch. 3.

On non-direct quotes, when the (terrible) Scifi channel movie adaptation of Earthsea came out in the early 2000s, Le Guin wrote an article talking about how the series had whitewashed her characters. In it, she says

In the two fantasy novels the miniseries is “based on,” everybody is brown or copper-red or black, except the Kargish people in the East and their descendants in the Archipelago, who are white, with fair or dark hair. The central character Tenar, a Karg, is a white brunette. Ged, an Archipelagan, is red-brown. His friend, Vetch, is black. [3]

I don't want to tell people what they should feel represented or not by; and I realize (and Le Guin did too! [4]) that a white author picking and choosing from non-white cultures is very risky. But Earthsea isn't just a white story with its characters painted red (or black). It's a story about NA characters, with NA traditions. That has to count for something, right?

[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alfred_Kroeber https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Theodora_Kroeber

[2] https://www.bunkhistory.org/resources/at-home-with-ursula-le-guin

[3] https://slate.com/culture/2004/12/ursula-k-le-guin-on-the-tv-earthsea.html

[4] So far no reader of color has told me I ought to butt out, or that I got the ethnicity wrong. When they do, I’ll listen. As an anthropologist’s daughter, I am intensely conscious of the risk of cultural or ethnic imperialism—a white writer speaking for nonwhite people, co-opting their voice, an act of extreme arrogance. [Same article as [3]]

I think one of the reasons why I brought up the other day that living under oppression shapes your culture, even the positive things about your culture like your art and your food (and that's kind of awful and unfair) is some criticism I read - 90% sure this was by an Asian-American man but I can't rightly remember - of Ursula K. LeGuin. His first interesting criticism was that she wasn't really subverting the traditional Western story structure (which LeGuin thought was very male and very unpleasant) by having Ged hug it out with his dark side at the end of Earthsea; structurally, it was still kind of a climactic battle. That was interesting. (I also thought it was annoying because I respect LeGuin so much I wasn't really willing to listen to his logic in that, so he might be right, I just don't want to think about it because of my feelings. It's good to admit such things.)

The second thing he said - and again this was an Asian-American man - was about how Ged, the protagonist of Earthsea, is a young Black man. But he doesn't face any meaningful oppression, he's able to move about the world however he pleases without being hampered by his appearance. (Other things like his lack of life experience stop him from doing anything he wants to, yes, but that's not racialized.) So for the critiquer that made him not meaningfully Black and he didn't really count as Black representation.

(Meanwhile, LeGuin has talked about her readers, especially her younger ones - and the first book came out in the sixties, mind - just about shitting themselves because there was a high fantasy novel and the protagonist had the same looks as them. That just didn’t happen back then.)

And that's an interesting goddamn question that he raised. At the same time - Jesus, I don't want to tell people that they could never be meaningfully Black without people hating them. That's very American anyway, a thousand or two years ago in Africa you would not have that problem and they were certainly meaningfully of their race and cultures. But at the same time it is a fundamental of how you experience the world if you are Black today.

So, as usual, you kind of have conflicting needs: half of your intended audience isn't going to care if Ged is okay where he is and might find it a relief, and then other people are going to feel alienated because there's no depiction of what it's often like to go through the world as a Black person. Neither reaction is wrong, but there's no way to reconcile the two, which poses a dilemma to contemporary authors, especially the ones who are Black themselves.

#Earthsea cycle #text posts #long posts #mentions of racism #ursula k. le guin

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madamedevien · 4 years ago

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Infernal Heat

Hey! It’s been a while - I really miss you guys. Anyway, I know that a lot of you were keeping up to date with my Mammon x GN! Reader fic...while I’m updating it regularly on my AO3, I thought that I’d post the chapters that I’ve got here as well. I’m planning for it to be a 4 chapter fic, but let’s see how that goes! Warnings in tags (both here and AO3) - monster fucking comes into play much more come Chapter 3 and 4. The biggest thanks to @mawwart for their inspiration and @popcherrypop for reading over what I had all those months ago and actually helping me find direction. I’ve got a bigger/cheesier spiel on AO3, but anyway. Fingers crossed that the ‘Keep Reading’ line shows up here...

Chapter 1: Embers

The Great Mammon had woken up in a mood. He'd felt this creeping up for days now and he wished that it would just come and go already. It was hella distracting to have a constant tug of warmth and want in your gut, y'know? And it was annoying to feel the incessant need to primp and to add to the nest of pillows, blankets, sentimental and decorative items that now overtook most of his bed. But he was due a heat cycle. Annoyingly, he felt that it was probably going to settle in properly on that particular day and he'd been wrangled into going shopping by you. And for whatever reason he'd agreed. Not because he had a crush on you or anything. Damn, he couldn't even remember what you two were meant to be shopping for, that's how addled his mind was. Mammon really just wanted to stay put and perfect his nest. Maybe show it off to you. Although he wasn't sure if you'd appreciate the fact that he'd stolen a few items of yours while on laundry duty to tuck into said nest. Or that he wanted to maybe do something kind of nasty to a piece of your clothing. If not you.

But would you want to? To see his nest? To lay in it, lay with him, to mate with him? He wanted you to. So very, very badly. He didn’t feel like he deserved you but, oh, to say that he wanted you was a vast understatement. Fuck.

He groaned and threw one of his tanned arms over his eyes. The silveret realised that he was going to have to partially dislodge his beautiful nest to pull out Goldie (he couldn't go shopping without her - the very thought was offensive!) and that he was going to have to get rid of his raging boner before he faced you.

So into a cold shower he trudged, loudly cursing the whole time.

---

Longest shopping trip in fucking history.

It seemed like you were in need of freakin' everything imaginable. He wasn't to know that you were actually just taking your time because it'd been a while since the two of you had some time to yourselves. The demon had been acting strangely around you the past few days, although he was completely oblivious to just how weird it’d been for you.

And today, the Avatar of Greed just wasn't engaging. Questions went unanswered, as if he hadn't heard even when clearly looking at you, no boasting or sulking occurred, no bets or harebrained schemes hatched...he didn't even take you up on your offer of Hell Sauce Noodles! The demon was completely disinterested in all of this - the only thing he was interested in was you. He was also trying very very hard not to let his thoughts slip into anything inappropriate. Which was probably the single most difficult thing he’d had to do in all of his many years. Mammon wanted to take your hand and lace your fingers together; to shamelessly nuzzle your cheek in front of everyone on Silent Avenue. The thought made his heart swell. Better yet, if you were mated, he could kiss you in front of the whole crowd before publicly mounting you and-

Damn, it was hard to keep lewd thoughts at bay. He could feel his cheeks burning and looked away when your concerned expression turned to him.

On the trek home (finally!), he fell into a lazy pace behind you and Mammon couldn’t help it as you walked together. His cerulean gaze raked over the beautiful curve in your neck - the space was perfect. In his mind, he could see how perfectly his head would fit and how the mark he could leave there would only accentuate the beauty of your skin. It’d be a gorgeous brand that would loudly proclaim to all, ‘I am mated to THE Great Mammon, the Avatar of Greed and Second of the Seven; don’t you dare even think to touch me’. The very notion only caused the flush of heat over his skin to worsen and his breath to hitch; he wanted to tear into his flesh to relieve himself of the insufferable and fiery itch.

The same thoughts washed over his brain again and again like some cruel tide, even once you'd passed through the doors of the House of Lamentation.

It took only a scant moment. He didn’t even think. The silver haired demon was aware that he was losing his mind due to his damned biology, but he didn’t realise that he was so far gone that he would do something so stupid. It was only your screech that alerted him to the fact that he had pulled you tight to his chest, that he was actually in the process of sinking sharp fangs into your supple skin. The sudden realisation made him tear off of you in surprise.

Beel had been the first to burst through a doorway and into the corridor. The redhead stopped dead in his tracks and stared wide-eyed at the two of you; you with your hand clamped over the section of your neck that had been bitten, and Mammon an arm’s length away from with a look of abject horror painted over his handsome features. Stupid Mammon, indeed. The next to burst in was Lucifer, who looked ready for a proper melee. The sound that had come from you had genuinely startled the older brother, not that he’d admit that if asked. As his garnet gaze took in the scene before him, his mouth twisted unpleasantly. “Mammon…” Lucifer’s voice was dangerously low. Mammon shook his head urgently in response, “Nonono, Luci, it didn’t - I mean, yeah, it is what it looks like an’ I didn’t mean ta, but it...it’s not deep enough. Y’know?” The second brother sounded desperate. Mammon anxiously twisted his rings around his tanned fingers and had to fight back the tears that threatened the edges of his vision. He could have hurt you. “Oh, I think you’ll find that it’s more than deep enough.” Lucifer stalked toward you and put his hand on top of the one you were using to cover your wound. “Let me see how much damage the fool inflicted on you”. Mammon could see the frown that pulled at your mouth as you revealed the bite mark to his brother. No proper damage - the indents might linger, but no blood had been drawn; no skin had been broken.

“It was more from the surprise than pain, Lucifer. I just wasn’t expecting someone to bite me, you know? That’s the kind of thing that I’d expect more from a very hungry Beel.” Your attempt to lighten the mood only made the Avatar of Pride’s expression sour further - but Beel muttered a small, “Fair”. Lucifer sounded positively glacial when he spoke again. “Beelzebub, please take our brother to his room." The Avatar of Gluttony nodded solemnly, gently taking the second eldest’s shoulder. Mammon stared miserably at the floor, guilt clearly written on his flushed face although he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He didn’t trust himself to. Not after such a stupid stunt. As the other two made their way up the stairs, Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose.

This wouldn’t be pleasant.

It was no surprise to Mammon that Lucifer texted him shortly after the whole ordeal. He was just thankful that Lucifer hadn’t decided to come up to his room and literally tear into him after biting you. Of all the people to bite in the entire Devildom, it just had to be you didn’t it? Lucifer: Mammon. I have strictly instructed the household that you are not to be disturbed until I have given the all clear. You will stay in your room and I will bring you provisions at regular intervals. If you need anything, you will let me know. Are we clear? Mammon: Yes. Lucifer: Good. He waited, hopeful that Lucifer would provide an update on you. After an eon of waiting (which was actually all of seven minutes) he decided to ask. Mammon: Are they okay?

Lucifer: They are. And they will continue to be so long as you stay in your room and do not venture out. Ensure that you lock your door and remember to take your pheromone blockers as well or the whole house will reek of your mating scent. What were brothers for, if not a good motivational speech? --- Chapter 2: Flames Even with Lucifer’s reminder, Mammon had forgotten to take the pheromone blockers and to lock the door. He’d been far too distracted; worrying about your state of health, whether he’d damaged your relationship beyond repair, still trying to keep the lewd thoughts at bay, his instincts fretting over the piece of nest that had been dismantled earlier… It was a lot to be preoccupied with, okay? Without the pheromone blockers, the corridor outside of Mammon’s room was thick with the sweet perfume of a demonic male in heat. It was rich and cloying, the kind of scent that would cling to one’s clothes much to the annoyance of the other residents (Asmodeus excluded). Mammon, however, didn’t care. He was too busy now attempting to cool the heat in the pit of his stomach and to regain some clarity of mind. An attempt at sleep had been made once his nest had been repaired and Goldie tucked into her rightful place, the lights turned down low and his clothes discarded to some far corner so that he could crawl into the nest in a comfortable state...but how could he sleep when obscene images of you kept popping into his head? At first, he had tried to keep some semblance of his mind. The demon didn’t like to lose control during his heats. If he could keep his mind, he would keep to his more humanoid forms - and that was what he wanted. Because if you did, by chance, happen upon him...well. He didn’t want to scare you. Before he allowed himself to spiral into the anxiety of your imagined reaction, he reached for his ridiculously large bottle of lube. If he was going to dwell on the thought of anything, it was going to be how good he knew you’d feel… --- Mammon wouldn’t have been able to say how much time had passed. He had brought himself to orgasm more times than he could count - but it only seemed to just take off the edge. A demon’s heat was never an easy thing, but why was this time around so damn difficult? Satan would have been able to answer that with ease, the smug bastard; if a demon chooses a mate they will, naturally, be most inclined to couple with said mate for optimal breeding. To not couple with a chosen mate could make a heat worse - but to withhold coupling at all? Well, it would be a foolish endeavour. The Avatar of Greed hadn’t realised just how he was slipping ; wings and horns had appeared without him even registering and his fangs had dropped to a predatory length (which he only noticed when he had apparently attempted to put a mating mark on a pillow covered in one of your stolen shirts that he’d been desperately rutting against, much to his embarrassment). His breathing was rough. Mammon was equal parts exhausted and invigorated. He wanted nothing more than to let his knees fall out from under him so that sleep would hopefully take him - he wanted to stalk down the hall and into your room and fuck you senseless. And if Lucifer found out? Well, Mammon would love to see him try to pry you from his arms. The very thought made him snarl, his grip on his cock tightening. It was enraging to even think that his brother would dare, a thought that had him so preoccupied that he didn’t hear the door click open. His blue eyes slipped over to you and the wet sound of him furiously fucking his fist stopped abruptly. It was impossible to tell which one of you was redder. This was not what he had been expecting. “Uh-” A rasp of your name interrupted you. “Didn’t Lucifer tell you not to come?” He watched as you nodded dumbly, “Yes”. Heavy breath was the only noise to pass between you several beats. The demon in front of you was wondering whether this was fate; you weren’t running, you looked interested and, fuck, you smelled so good. You smelled aroused and it made him growl; “C’mere then”. The way that you slammed the door and scampered toward him practically had him preening in pleasure. Just as eager, Mammon scrambled over to meet you, flustered yet excited, and hauled you up close to him. He bumped your foreheads together. From here it was easy to see how incredibly blown his pupils were, to feel how desperately ragged his breathing was. You were dangerously close. “Now, see here, I'm gonna give ya one chance to go. ‘Cause if I kiss ya, I’m not gonna be able to stop. I won’t be able to let ya go. You’ll be stuck with me for the whole fuckin’ ride, ya hear?” Holy shit, his voice was so strained. “Then kiss me, you dummy.” No repeat was necessary. Mammon threaded his fingers into your hair, hesitating for only the briefest moment before pressing his lips to yours. When you responded in kind his fervour, his deep rooted greed, quickly followed. He’d wanted to kiss you from day one and not a moment had gone by since without him imagining it. This felt so incredibly right. But he couldn’t ignore the heat curling in his gut. He needed you, wanted you. And as far as he could tell, despite the dark whispers in the back of his mind saying otherwise, you seemed to feel the same.The way that you returned his greedy kisses, how your fingers had twisted sharply in his hair, how you didn’t seem to mind the messy clicking of his elongated fangs against your blunt teeth as he tried to figure out how best to navigate your mouth in this form - how could he deny that he was wanted? Mammon's only regret when looking back on this evening with you would be not savouring your body laid bare for him for the first time. His mind was too heat-addled to appreciate it; he was unable to slowly peel off your layers and to have the sentiment returned in kind as he had previously fantasised about. In his mind’s eye, he had a whole big romantic gesture planned if you had decided to sleep with him. Previously, he had imagined how he would make love to you and treasure every moment of it...but alas… Your clothes were quickly stripped from you, sharp fangs nipping at new skin as it was exposed. There was no delicate treatment here and he paid no heed to the sound of torn material. When he next plundered your mouth, it was far smoother than the first time - he was a fast learner, after all. The only complaint that he had about kissing you was that it muffled those beautiful noises of yours. When he broke the seal of your mouths it was to gently toss you back toward the top of the bed, deeper into his nest and into the comfort of a ridiculous amount of pillows - to properly secure you into his nest. To see you like that felt...good. It felt right. It was clear that was exactly where you belonged. The very image had him growling in satisfaction as he took the opportunity to crawl over your body, his fingers gripping at the meat of your thighs and hips as if ensuring that you were truly there with him. Thankfully, his nails had not yet turned into talons or they would have pierced through you with ease at the way that he handled your flesh. Mammon had to take a deep breath when he looked at you this time. He needed to make sure that he didn’t hurt you while doing this - it was the last thing in the world that he wanted. It was unusual for the Avatar of Greed to put the needs of others before his own...but you weren’t just some ‘other’. You were you. His very own treasure, his very own mate. Reluctantly, a hand left your body to fish for something buried within the nest. “You’re fuckin’ gorgeous,” He coated his fingers generously in lube, desperate to ensure that he would cause as little pain as possible, “Just fuckin’ perfect”. Two fingers slipped into you as Mammon spoke, his tone low and hoarse. Never had he imagined just how difficult it would be to hold himself back like this, nor could he have been prepared for just how much desire he felt in that moment. The sensation of your hot core wrapped around his fingers had him shamelessly rutting against your thigh, a poor attempt at taking the edge off of his lust. A human really had no business wrecking him like this. His heat cycles were normally pretty boring - desperate rutting for a day or two and then back to normal life. You had no right to set his skin aflame like this, no right to have him feel like he could cum just from the noise you made once he had three fingers fucking into your heat. The way his blood was rushing in his ears was deafening...and he wanted more. It didn’t take too long for it all to get too much. Even all of the dark hickies that he had furiously littered your neck, chest and shoulders with weren’t enough to distract him from the wet sound of his fingers preparing you or the stunning sounds he managed to pull from you when he got the angle of his hand just right. Mammon would never admit it, but he kind of missed his target. The point of removing his hand from you had been to slip himself right in. Instead, as he kissed you he rolled his slick cock against your sex...which, to be fair, had felt better than your thigh. And if the sound that you’d made in response was anything to go by, you thought so too. He liked that noise. A lot. So he rolled his hips against you again, groaning in response to you. Ever eager to please, the greedy demon found a rhythm that you both seemed to enjoy in the interim. “Ya like that, huh?” Mammon wasn’t sure where the cockiness in his tone was coming from when internally he felt so nervous. It was those very nerves that quickly had his hand moving to guide his cock to your entrance and thrusting into you before you could retort. Mammon didn’t realise it would silence both of you. By no means was he a virgin. The Great Mammon would have it known that he was a proper Casanova type, thank you very much. He just didn’t realise how different it would feel coupling with someone that he truly and deeply loved. The heat causing that deep need to breed the closest thing with a pulse didn’t help things, of course. It was...incredible, for lack of a better word. Divine. Mammon choked on an Infernal curse once seated completely in you and had to literally bite his tongue to keep an anchor on his self-control. All of that hard earned control was thrown out the window when his name passed your lips. There was no hesitation in how his hips pistoned, fucking into you relentlessly. His hands manoeuvred to cradle the back of your knees and he pushed your legs back to allow him more access to your body, his fingers gripping hard enough to bruise. The noises that left him were snaps and snarls of Infernal praise, not that he realised. The only thought on Mammon’s mind was his primal objective of breeding you until neither of you could move ; it didn’t matter whether you could actually fall pregnant or not. No logic or worry clouded his mind with these thoughts. All he could focus on was filling you with his seed until he couldn’t any more, the thought of your stomach tender and round because of his affections toward his mate... Mammon’s first orgasm came with an embarrassing quickness. When he spilled inside of you, his teeth sinking into the tender flesh of your chest, he was quickly filled with a relief and warmth that he hadn’t felt in ages. For the first time since his heat had set in, there was true clarity in his mind. While his natural instincts weren’t completely quelled, it was enough for him to actually think with something other than his adamantly pulsing dick. His relief quickly fell to mortification, the shadows of which were clear on his features when he pulled back to look at you. His cheeks were tinted red both from exertion and embarrassment ; he hadn’t paid enough attention to get you to climax. He was quick to stutter out your name, mouth tripping on the words that were trying to get out of his mouth as his sluggishly content brain tried to supply words just beyond reach. “What, isn’t The Great Mammon going to make me cum?” Your sass fanned the flames in his loins. A playful snarl was made in response, “Oh sweetheart. I’m going to make you cum so fuckin’ hard you black out. You won’t be able to feel your legs by the time I’m done with you”. And so The Great Mammon set to work. --- Mammon hummed contentedly as you lazily played with the hair at the nape of his neck hours later. This was perfection. Strong fingers stroked your thighs as he enjoyed the sensation of you wrapped around his hips, the pleasure of you sat on his lap while cuddled up together in your nest. The demon toyed with the thought of pushing his hips up just to make you gasp from the overstimulation, but decided against it. Although he was loath to admit it, you needed rest - because Mammon had been good to his word, ensuring that you both had more than your fair share of orgasms. But this was good. The fire in his gut had died down to crackling embers, although he knew it would flare up again soon - but you would be there to help ease him through it. And you even seemed to like helping him out. What was the phrase… ‘mutually beneficial’? Somethin’ like that. His eyes fluttered open when he heard your chuckle. He couldn’t help but wonder if you knew how freakin’ stunning you were when you smiled like that. “What?” When your eyes met his, he was pouting frowning. The laugh that you let out only made his brow furrow more, “I said what. What’s got ya laughin’ like that, huh? You should be out like a freakin’ light by now”. It wasn’t until you replied that he realised how obvious it was, “I didn’t know that demons could purr”. Mammon squawked loudly and attempted to divert your attention - he sounded like a damn motor! It wasn’t fair! He wasn’t even able to control the way he was going off… It was embarrassing. “Well, yeah, y’know, sometimes. We’re incredible ‘n mysterious creatures us demons, y’know! Demons are capable of things that your human mind couldn’t even comprehend! Anyway, ’s not like ’s all the time or anythin’ like that…” He tried to occupy himself and forget about the heat radiating from his face by playing with your hair - but he could feel you smiling against the crook of his neck. “Yeah?” “Yeah.” The incredible and mysterious demon sounded more like a petulant child (well, a purring and petulant child). “So, when do you normally purr?” “I dunno. When we’re happy, I guess?” “Does that mean I haven’t made you happy before?” The way that he spluttered was definitely worth teasing him. “Who said that ya haven’t made me happy?! ‘N besides, this is different!” Even Mammon couldn’t deny that he was now pouting, but he tried to focus on the feeling of your fingers running along his shoulders. It was nice; soothing, even. Until he felt a sharp tug on the back of his neck. “Ouch! You gotta be more gentle than that!” The look of surprise on your face made him want to curl in on himself. “Mammon - are those feathers?” “Phffft,” The greedy demon rolled his eyes and tried to deflect your query, “Shaddap. You dunno what you’re talking ‘bout”. When your mouth opened again, he did take the opportunity to thrust sharply into you. At the gasp, he lurched forward with a passionate kiss. Simply to shut you up, of course. No hidden agenda. His pleased purring melted into a deep rumbling, the fire in his belly stoking itself back to life. It was impossible for him not to roll you over to allow him to bask in more of your shared passion. The laughter that ensued, laughter that he was sure was aimed at him, only made his heart swell as much as his cock.

#obey me #obey me mammon x reader #obey me mammon #obey me shall we date #deVien writes #deVien writes for asmo #Infernal Heat #Smut #mammon x gn! reader #mammon x gender neutral reader #Gender neutral reader #Mating cycles #Heat cycles #mating cycles/in heat #Feral Mammon #Monster fucking #Well gradual monster fucking #Insecure Mammon #Kind of a breeding kink but that's more instincts

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outofangband · 2 years ago

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The Empty Lands of Dimbar: Environmental and Geographical Information and Thoughts

(Prelude to a longer environment and biodiversity post)

(I also couldn’t help but to include some horror thoughts towards the end. I love all kinds of Angband horror of course but there’s so much potential elsewhere too)

Flora, fauna, geography and environment of Arda

Dimbar, Sindarin “sad home”, was described simply as an empty, desolate and cold* land South of the Crissaegrim with the river Sirion on the West and its tributary Mindeb on the East. In the Southern reaches of Dimbar, the forest of Brethil looms on the West with Neldoreth on the right.

Dimbar comes into the story of Húrin twice and it is here that we get much of the limited information we have on it. The first is when he is only a child and becomes lost with his younger son, Huor after accompanying a group of men from Brethil on a fighting and scouting trip (This was when the boys were living with their paternal aunt, Glóredhel and her husband, Haldir.) The group was attacked and scattered and Húrin and Huor were separated from them. The power of Ulmo, being strong in the waters of the Sirion, veiled the boys in a mist that let them escape the orcs however they fled East and became lost in the wilderness of Dimbar until thy were found by the Eagles.

The Atlas of Middle Earth and the maps by Tolkien and Christopher do not show any particular terrain or landscape for Dimbar though the description of the wilderness certainly evokes an image for the land. Possible inspiration for the ecoregion are the Eastern European Forest steppes or the montane Birch forests and grasslands, especially given the nearby birch forests.

Later, Húrin travels through Dimbar after his release from Angband and the land is described as cold and desolate.

Desolate is also used to describe the Nan Tathren or Valley of Willows however they seem to evoke very different environments. Nan Tathren is imbued with the power of Ulmo which runs strong in the river Sirion. It is described as beautiful and peaceful. In earlier versions of the legendarium, the Valley of Willows was where the first butterflies were created and I speculate this remains a folktale or legend among the elves and Edain of Beleriand.

While Dimbar is bordered by the river Sirion and thus the power of Ulmo is not bereft from the region, there is none of the whimsy of the Nan Tathren in any of the descriptions

I do wonder however if the second description of Dimbar as cold and empty is at all influenced by Húrin’s own state of mind. He feels cold, numb and empty after Morwen’s death (The Wanderings of Húrin, HoME 11) and his view of the world appears distorted. There is a desolate feeling to his words and thoughts throughout that part of his life and although it does seem Dimbar was uninhabited, I think it’s also possible that he is walking through the lands likely remembered only in distant nightmares and everything is cold and empty and gone.

As Tuor and Voronwë shelter in a cave upon one of the hills, we can assume there are caves somewhere in the region. I am now attached @quixoticanarchy’s headcanons that much of Beleriand is karst terrain, that is, a topography formed when soluble rocks such as limestone dissolve creating extensive underground drainage systems, sinkholes and caves. I headcanon this especially for Western Beleriand (the extensive cave systems of Nargothrond and Menengroth along with possible underground passages) with some different topographical thoughts on Eastern Beleriand though I think parts of there are karst terrain too.

Although we do not know for a fact whether or not there is marshland covering significant parts of Dimbar, I was thinking of the legend of the will o the wisps, ghostly lights that appear in the moorlands and apparently lead travelers astray or into danger. These are of course a folktale however there is some theories that chemical reactions caused in some kinds of marshlands can cause phosphorescence or other illusions of glowing light. I think there is the possibility of such a phenomenon in Dimbar, this perhaps exacerbating the tendency for the lands to be avoided.

I also wonder if the refugees of Ladros might have traveled through or by Dimbar before or after their stay in Brethil.

#The Silmarillion #the children of húrin #musing and meta #Beleriand

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jvwhyte · 3 years ago

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Seven and Gwynriel -> Thoughts, opinions and general facts.

(Warning: When i talk about numbers and their meaning during this post i'll be strictly going off number meanings in Judasim -> Sarah's Religion and what inspires a lot of the ACOTAR series.)

I made a post about this earlier this week but i wanted to expand a little further.

First of all we need to recognise how the number seven is used throughout the rest of the book.

Places where the number seven is considered important:

Seven courts in Prythian ruled by seven High Lords.

Lucien -> The youngest of Seven brothers.

Tamlin had Seven years, Seven times over.

Azriel and Cassian both have Seven Siphons.

The war raged for Seven years.

Helion has seven pairs of pegasi.

It's used prominently throughout the series (with these only being a few examples) and although Amarantha gave Tamlin seven years seven times over, all other uses show that SJM never uses it to show someone is "dangerous" or to hint towards anything bad. However it is key to note that the number seven is most used during the fifth book.

So what does the number seven actually mean?

The number seven is the divine number of completion.

Also (i believe) SJM even bases the Mother off of the Jewish Goddess, Asherah (the mother goddess) who birthed seventy seven sons 😉.

It's the genral symbol of all association with G-d and it typifies the covenant of holiness and sanctification.

It's arguabley the most important number within the Torah.

E.g. The gematria of the Hebrew letter, the Seven Laws of Noah, the menorah in the Temple had seven lamps, acts of atonement and purification were accompanied by a sevenfold sprinkling, every seventh year of the Hebrew calendar is a Sabbatical year, A full week of shiva is seven days, number of blessings in the Sheva Brachot,number of days of Sukkot, umber of days of Pesach, number of aliyot on Shabbat, etc.

It also represents creation, good fortune and blessing.

Long story short: it's a very important and good (!) number :)

So for anyone saying Gwynriel's association with seven is bad, news flash, you're incredibly wrong.

In Judasim there's even seven wedding blessings, seven circuits performed about a groom (which even symbolises the starting of a full life and the joining of two half souls!), and seven days of mourning after the death of a close relative.

So, Gwynriel?

(The ss on the right and the one directly below take place on the seventh floor of the library.)

@mercurianbisous Actually mentioned in one of their posts that during the Bonus chapter light/glowing is mentioned seven times! (Definitely a post worth checking out!)

And an Anonymous User on @yazthebookish asks pointed out that Azriel is first mentioned on chapter seven where Mor and Rhys (i believe) talk about the sangravah raid! I cant remember exactly but it's definitely more sevens 😉

We see that seven is commonly used with Gwyn and Azriel, both together and separately, but does it necessarily mean anything bad? No! A certain side of the fandom in particular try and make out that this means that Gwyn is an "evil lightsinger" or is luring Azriel but based of Judaism (and the majority of other cultures) it's not a bad number. If anything it's in favour of Gwynriel instead of E/riel.

Numbers play important parts in Jewish Culture. And SJM (a Jewish Woman) has used Jewish culture before, three sisters/three brothers (three signifies completeness and stability), twelve priestesses (twelve signifies holy people serving G-d), Azriel is based of Azrael, a lot of what we know about the priestesses in general is similar to Jewish practices. So why do certain people try and deny the possibility that seven being associated with (specifically Gwyn) Gwynriel is bad? Because they are in denial!

And if they also take Judaism into account they have to face the fact that three brothers and three sisters (3+3=6) won't work because six means imperfections ;)

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moosoobi · 4 years ago

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Battle Royale

(1) Fresh bread, French Prince

G.Lafayette : Hamilton the musical

Sometimes when you work on a project, there are moments when you need to take a break and work on something else. That’s really the case with In The Night, I have all these ideas but sometimes I feel confined to ITN (I literally have not started Chapter 3 when this is posted). And thus this fic was born. I hope you enjoy!

Y/N and Lafayette’s POV

Bridgerton inspired AU (watching the Bridgerton series would probably help in understanding ideas of ‘courting’ and finding a suitors)

Odd social structure (dukes are essentially owners of land which was popularized in London, Washington is considered a president, and Lafayette is now a prince!)

not my cover image 😟

Word count: 4k

Literally the biggest thanks to @deja-you for proofreading and some great feedback, ILY 🧎‍♀️

—-the Washington residence

The dreamy clouds would stream across the sky as Y/N began to read the newest article from Thomas Paine, the most notorious writer known for acknowledging every piece of gossip and whispers among the noble colonists.

The pamphlet felt newly written, as few spots of the odd-smelling ink would smudge. Though Y/N was not awake, a young boy delivered this meticulous pamphlet to the Washington residence before dawn.

As the daughter of the president, being the center of noble gossip was nothing new to her, in fact, gossip was never the center of her attention either. But something about this pamphlet in particular would surely catch her eye.

She began to read:

‘The scene for this courting season is looking quite interesting. Now that these young ladies are finally of age, they will indeed add competition to the scene.’

Ah yes, the annual courting season. A time for women and men to make their move and commence into the adult world. While many aren’t satisfied with their partners, reputation seems to grow higher than feelings.

‘Many pertinent names are included in this season, and I’m honored to document the presence of these people.’

‘The Schuylers: all three of the incredible General Schuyler’s daughters are finally entering the courting scene simultaneously. During the war, many soldier boys would fall head over heels to impress them, and many were unsuccessful. I’m ecstatic to observe the lucky men to take the hand of Angelica, Elizabeth, and Peggy Schuyler.’

‘The Payne’s: Miss Dolley Payne has finally been granted entrance into this courting season. Many theories and speculation suggest that her arrival to the scene at the same time as the other great names was not a coincidence.’

‘And finally, the most significant family joining us this season,’

Y/N sucked in a breath

‘The Washington’s: His grace’s pride and joy, Y/N, will be the most imperative competition this season. The pressure of being the president’s daughter, as well as the stigma of conceiving an heir, follow her wherever she resides. Nonetheless, Y/N Washington is an extraordinary star among the courting scene, and it would indeed be foolish to throw away your shot.’

‘It’s just common sense.’

‘-Thomas Paine’

It would take Y/N a couple moments before her squeals of excitement could be heard across the residence

Shortly after, the rumbles of Y/N racing down the stairs would cause her parents, George and Martha, to take suspicious glances at each other. Y/N finally reached the dinner table where her parents were finishing up their morning tea.

“What’s got you going so early, dear? I usually have to pull you out of bed around this time,” Martha questioned

“Sir Payne wrote about me in the paper! My entrance to the courting scene seems to be the most glittering cluster of ink in this pamphlet” She squealed

Y/N excitedly, yet also harshly, slid the pamphlet over to her parents, moments later they would observe her words to be true

“That’s great, dear” Her father, George, looked up from the paper with a smile. “I know you’ll represent the Washington Family name well, although it’s a shame you’ll have to lose it when you get married” he sighed

“Oh lighten up George, Y/N will be the talk of the town, I’m sure she’ll attract some worthy gentleman”

“Damn right he better be worthy.” His eyes transferred from Martha to Y/N

“Remember Y/N, very few are prepared to handle a Washington, you can even ask your mother.”

Y/N couldn’t hold in a giggle as Martha rolled her eyes. Both Y/N and George watched as Martha arose to place her porcelain dishes in the sink

“Well I must be soo blessed to have to take care of two of them.”

George turned back to Y/N and slid her a letter across the table, keeping another letter in his opposite hand, which was still unopened

“May I ask what this is?” She held up the letter. Even the feeling of the paper could tell Y/N that it came from the colonial gentry. The scent faintly reminded Y/N of champagne and flowers, and the seal was a sparkling coral-pink shade. The letter appeared to be already opened

“The Schuyler’s are inviting you to a small tea get-together, whatever you kids call it.”

Y/N opened the envelope, searching for the details. How exciting was this, to be among the best of the best, especially in the greatest city in the world. Before she could reply, George began to speak again

“I’ve already requested for two escorts to accompany you on your way to the Schuyler residence.” Y/N turned to him in confusion

“Huh?” She questioned “escorts?”

“Now that you’re officially in this courting season, your safety could be potentially in danger. I’m just trying to make you comfortable” He retorted

“Father, I’m sure I’m capable of walking on my own. I mean, the Schuyler residence isn’t even that far and-”

Y/N was interrupted by multiple knocks on her door. She shot a ‘this isn’t over’ glare to her father before wandering over to her front door. She opened the door and found a surprise

The Duke of Monticello and the Duke of Manhattan, my father’s two trusted secretaries. Dropping the formalities, Y/N addressed them by their first name

“Thomas? Alexander? Don’t tell me..” she turned back to her father. Jefferson and Hamilton stood at the doorway, both with flowers and nervous in the presence of Washington

“Father, I’m starting to question whether you worry for my safety, or worry for your pickiness of my suitor.” Thomas and Alex attempted to hold in their laughs as if their lives depended on it

“Of course I do!” He held a hand to his chest as if he was hurt “although I do owe them a favor-” a smirk spread across Thomas’s and Alexander’s face, yet was quickly faded as Washington addressed them

“But no funny business with my daughter. If I hear of any shenanigans from either one of you, you both have serious consequences.” Y/N turned back to the dukes, both of them appearing drained of color.

“Let me get dolled up and we can be on our way” Y/N swiftly ran upstairs, leaving Thomas and Alexander alone in the presence of their boss. Those poor, poor, boys

Five minutes later, Y/N glided down the stairs in her fancier skirt. Her corset gave her an amazing shape, and her hair made her appear to be a celestial being. She caught the dukes’ eyes lingering on her for a little too long. Luckily, Washington wasn’t around. “Let’s keep our focus on what’s really matters, guys” she laughed

“R-right...” they said in unison, both turning away and pretending to be interested in the furniture in the house. Y/N had never seen the two secretaries so calm around each other, it made her realize the power the Washington’s have in the colonies. A simple order from a Washington could probably end wars, especially if it’s capable of making Jefferson and Hamilton contain their pride

“Your graces?” She held out her hands, signifying that she was ready to depart. The dukes held out their forearm and elbows for her to take. Y/N intertwined her arms into theirs, and they headed for the Schuyler residence.

A few minutes down the path and Alexander Hamilton decided to break the silence

“I still can’t believe you’re entering this season, Y/N. I mean, I still remember running around those horrid military camps all those years ago” he chuckled. It’s true, it’s been all these years since the war and so much has changed

“I like to believe I’ve grown into a wonderful, young woman, don’t you think?” I batted my eyelashes towards both of them

“Of course darlin’” Jefferson cut in “but just because we’re your honorable colleagues doesn’t mean Hamilton and I won’t be lining up for your hand”

“Don’t be so sure. I heard this season has a few aggressive competitors on both sides. The Schuylers, the Paynes, even the Madisons! I might have to step up my game. In the meantime, both of you have to keep an open mind.”

Thomas and Hamilton stared at each other, surprised by her response.

“And If I find out that both of you placed bets on which one of you will earn my hand, I’ll be reminding my father to collect both of your heads.”

Their heads hung in defeat “alright, alright darlin’ I think I kind of like my head attached to my body. No need to get violent.”

“Plus I don’t think any of you can truly handle a Washington.” Y/N giggled, her arms still intertwined with theirs

“If Jefferson and I don’t scare away the competition, I’m sure your father will” Alexander chuckled, Thomas visibly reacted to the joke as well

“Oh come on, the two most popular dukes of the colonies have nothing on a suitor that is truly worthy of me” she scoffed

“And where would you find such a worthy contestant? Someone better than a duke?” The three stopped in front of the Schuyler residence

“Don’t kill my hopes, a Washington has her ways” Y/N removed her arms from Thomas’s and Alexander’s, heading for the front door. As soon as she was greeted by General Schuyler herself, she waved goodbye to the clashing dukes

“She’s so mine, Hamilton.” Thomas stated

“I’m sure you should be worried about your tomcat nature, Jefferson, don’t get too ahead of yourself” Alex retorted

Jefferson audibly scoffed before wandering with him into the city

—-France

3 weeks prior to Y/N reading that exciting pamphlet, Marquis de Lafay-- Now Prince Lafayette sat around a table of French nobles and officials. It felt like ages since he’s been in the colonies, and it has only been a few years ever since the French Revolution had ended. Yet instead of abolishing the monarchy system in France as Lafayette promised to the colonies, he and a few other nobles replaced the previous royal family.

Lafayette was later titled as a Prince, as were other leading men of France, but he urged to continue being addressed as the ‘Hero of two worlds’.

But with a new era upon the people of France, came the countless government meetings and conflicts that he had to resolve.

“Your Majesty? Are you even paying attention?” Secretary Robespierre whispered over his shoulder, causing him to visibly straighten himself out.

“O-Oui. Why wouldn’t I be?” Lafayette laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head. Robespierre rolled his eyes before whispering again.

“This is our last meeting of the day. With all due respect sir, can you get yourself together?”

“Okay, Okay.” Lafayette sighed with boredom

He missed the colonies dearly, sometimes he wished he never left at all, but seeing his country yearn for a revolution compelled him to sail across the Atlantic once again. He often daydreamed of his riskier lifestyle with his closest friends and soldiers, as well as the feeling of awe while serving directly under General Washington. Never in his life did Lafayette think he would miss the adrenaline rush of stealing cannons and leading fully arm battalions.

His teenage memories of fooling around in those military camps, wandering the streets of New York City severely intoxicated, and the best memories of all, the memories of escorting the General’s daughter, Y/N Washington, to buy bread and pastries for him and his fellow soldiers.

Oh, what could she be doing now?

If it weren’t for the revolution at hand, Lafayette would’ve surely bent a knee once she set foot onto the military camping grounds. Lafayette held such a high respect for Y/N when they first met, especially since she was the daughter of his most admired general. The women in France just couldn’t compare to her heavenly beauty, and her kindness was unbeatable. She was the greatest treasure that Lafayette had stumbled across during his time in the colonies. Although many noblewomen would attempt to take a bite of him, Lafayette stayed loyal to his non-existent promise to Y/N.

A quick quill-slam to the table, and he was quickly drawn back to his reality. Why should he worry about his previous General’s daughter anyway? Lafayette was now a Prince, he could have anything he wanted. But the moment he set foot in France after the American Revolution, he lost the most precious things he already had. He yearned for glory, but at what cost? The cost of abandoning his bonds in the colonies?

He sighed, standing from the meeting table and wandering to his quarters. Secretary Robespierre followed closely behind him. Sensing an odd tension from Lafayette’s mood, Robespierre attempted to address his situation

“Do you need anything, your majesty?” Lafayette froze in his tracks, weighing his two options

“Actually...” Lafayette turned to face him “Schedule me a ship to the colonies. The earliest one you can find.”

Robespierre tilted his head in confusion, letting the last sentence sizzle in his head.

“I’m sorry, what?”

The prince in distress sighed with fatigue. “I’ve decided I’m heading to the colonies, tout suite.” Lafayette kept his gaze strong

‘B-but sir, you have so much to take care of-” Robespierre was notably panicking at this moment. “-and the recent shortages-”

“Mon Ami, there are at least three other ‘crowned princes’ who are perfectly capable of maintaining this nation. One prince gone won’t hurt the economy” Prince Lafayette stated firmly

Robespierre debated for a moment before confirming his thoughts “Alright. I’ll notify you when the earliest ship can be sailed. But what shall you do about the gossip? Perhaps they will believe you are not responsible enough for this role.”

“Let the people speak as they please. In the end, I’ll remind them who’s in charge.” Lafayette began towards his quarters once again, Robespierre stayed behind to script all of his thoughts.

Finally in his study, Lafayette dipped his quill into the nearest container of ink and started to write.

‘To the Great General Washington, It’s been ages since we’ve last written…’

Maybe Lafayette will be able to have a taste of his old life.

---the Schuyler residence

Giggling echoed throughout the Schuyler residence as the 5 girls enjoyed their tea.

“Have you gals read Payne’s newest pamphlet? We’re the talk of the town as of now” Angelica, the oldest Schuyler, smiled with satisfaction. Her luminous complexion complemented her coral pink gown.

“I never expected our courting debut to be so..” Eliza searched for the right words “..turbulent among the talkers..” she took a sip of her tea

“I’m still stunned by the feedback” Y/N laughed nervously “My father even requested his two most clashing secretaries to escort me here, they didn’t even argue once” she said in awe

The top 5 girls of the season all sat in one room. Though they would eventually become each other's courting competition, they were great friends nonetheless. During the war, Y/N would stay in the Schuyler household while their fathers were out of town daydreaming of being free from the king, attending a few balls together, and watching soldier boys trip over themselves. After the war ended, Dolley Paine became a mutual connection through their high ranking families. The 5 got along way too quickly.

Peggy held up the tea pot “another fill, ladies?” Y/N and Dolley nodded, both taking their turns to fill their cups.

“Awee, look at you Peggy, you’ll make a perfect wife” Dolley teased. The rest of the girls laughed it off, yet Y/N didn’t feel at ease with that statement.

“You don’t actually think we will all get married that quickly, do you?” Y/N looked around to see their confused expressions. “Guys?”

“Well..” Angelica pondered for a moment “I believe that it’s ideal to marry on your first season”

Peggy had to stop herself from spitting out her tea

“That soon? But we’re so young, and-” Eliza interrupted

“And we’re ladies. Society expects us to do nothing more and nothing less with what we’re given” Angelica takes a content sip of her tea once again “I don’t make the rules around here.”

The silence was awfully louder than the conversation.

“Alright.” Dolley smiled “I guess we'll just have to make this next few weeks extra special, right?”

Y/N took a deep breath “the best of the best.” She muttered

Peggy turned to her and nodded, and Eliza was quick to join. Y/N faked a smile at the girls, ‘I guess that’s just how it is’ is what she thought, and Angelica would raise her glass for a toast

“A toast to the best courting season?” The 4 other girls raised their glass as well.

Though many hours were filled with laughter and giggles, Y/N couldn’t help but imagine how much her life would change within the next few months. And just by entering this season, Y/N will give up her youth and give someone her hand to please someone. To please herself? To please the people? To please her parents? She had no clue

She stared out the window, remembering those nights of staying at the Schuyler residence, watching those drunk soldiers stumble across the street. Many of them were her friends, friends she had met through her fathers rank. She smiled at the thought of the most memorable gentleman she had met while at those camps.

‘The French Foreigner’ is what they used to call him, but only before he became comfortable in the colonies. ‘Marquis de Lafayette’ was his title, and Y/N always loved the sound of his name rolling off her tongue.

“I don’t know what my father told you, but I’m sure I don’t need you to accompany me simply to buy bread” Y/N stood stubbornly

Lafayette gently grabbed her hand and raised it to his lips

“I just want you to be safe, mon ange, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you got hurt..”

He kissed the back of her hand, maintaining eye contact. Y/N appeared as if she just experienced a revelation “..shall we be on our way, mademoiselle?”

She took a moment to think, her head still in the clouds. Y/N slowly nodded “Alright.” The two intertwined arms and headed into the city

Oh how she missed the old days. Y/N hated to admit it, but she truly believed she met the most exquisite gentlemen during the war. Whenever she’d stay at the camps with her father, a small group of soldiers would always keep her company. A tailor, an abolitionist, two immigrants, the camps were definitely a mixing pot.

At that very moment, Y/N prayed she’d be able to find someone like the men at her fathers military camp during this courting season.

Y/N jumped at the tapping on her shoulder

“Y/N? Don’t tell me you already have suitors lining up out there for you” Y/N shook her head and laughed

“I just spaced out. That’s all.” She attempted to change the subject “What were we talking about?” She questioned

Peggy interrupted “Next week's ball, the first ball of the season. Do we show up in our best, or do we build suspense until the last seasonal ball?” Peggy debated

“Let’s take one ball at a time, shall we?” Eliza proposed her idea

“Well for the first ball, I suggest….” All the girls gathered around Angelica to hear her plan

—-Lafayette’s quarters (France)

Prince Lafayette neatly folded his clothes as he was departing for the colonies within a few hours. He remembers the excitement he felt when he traveled to the colonies for the first time, having to dress like a pregnant woman in order to board the ship, but he still cringes at the imagery.

He elegantly stuffed his belongings into his shoulder bag. He stood back to admire his rushed work, but he felt as if he was missing something.

Lafayette looked around his quarters, his eyes became glued on his treasured gun, gifted to him by General Washington himself. The wooden hilt was stained with god knows what, but the gold trimmings were shining in the afternoon sunlight.

He’d already have French soldiers accompanying him, he was a prince after all. Would he need such weaponry?

“I do not see why not.” He muttered to himself before stuffing it into his bag with the rest of his belongings. Lafayette dusted off his fancy clothing and stood in triumph, well, before a woman cleared her throat behind him.

Lady Adrienne stood at the doorway to his study, her emerald green skirts creased against the doorframe. Lafayette and Adrienne previously courted before he left for the colonies, which ended up being her last straw. Lady Adrienne attempted to stop him, since she was a loyalist to the monarchs of France, but Lafayette refused to listen.

“que veux-tu? I'm busy at the moment.” Lafayette covered his bag with a nearby coat, crossing his arms.

“I heard you’re going back to the colonies. What’s so special across the ocean that you can’t have here? You’re a prince for god sake”

“It’s none of your concern, get out of-”

“Last time you left for the colonies- left me for the colonies- you just weren’t the same when you came back.” she was on the verge of yelling

Lafayette sighed, having already been through this conversation ever since he came back to France.

“This is nonsense. I need to be alone as of now.” Lafayette turned away from her to continue packing his belongings. She had a hurt expression on her face; part of her mind refused to believe he wasn’t her suitor anymore. Ever since he left for the colonies.

She slowly began to advance towards him. “That is no way to talk to your previous courting partner, Lafayette.” Her tone was strong yet unsure.

“It’s Prince Lafayette to you, and there’s a reason why we’re not courting now..” He was notably irritated by her presence.

Lady Adrienne wasn’t leaving his quarters until she was given an answer.

“Was I not enough for you to stay in France…?” she rested a hand on his shoulders, Lafayette visibly cringed. “What’s in the colonies that you can’t have here?”

Lafayette swiftly turned towards her, brushing her hand off of his shoulder in disgust. “I don’t have to answer to you—“ he attempted to retort

“—Don’t tell me you’re still mad that I had more faith in the monarchs of our country rather than you”

Lady Adrienne rolled her eyes annoyingly, Lafayette blood had already begun boiling long ago. She started moving closer to Lafayette, attempting to trap him in his room, and forcing him to stay in France. Although this was her main plan, she wanted an answer, and she wanted it now.

“Your own lover didn’t believe in you. Is that why you’re so upset? It’s quite the reaction for something so minuscule—” she scoffed.

Lafayette snapped

“—as a matter of fact, you weren’t my lover. It’s not you, its...”

Lafayette, clearly frustrated, struggled to hold up under his old friend’s gaze. She saw it in his eyes, the way they lightened when he thought about the colonies.

She saw a similar light in them the day he returned from France. Perhaps it was the praise he obtained for the foreign war, or perhaps some treasures he discovered, or maybe someone.

“Lafayette... Did you find another partner in the colonies?”

The panic was visible in his eyes, but there no was no reason to panic, he thought.

Lafayette brushed up against lady Adrienne, his lips were millimeters from her ear. He began

“Our relationship ended from the moment I set foot on that ship, and I do not regret it one bit..”

He stepped out of her reach and continued to pack away his belongings, Lady Adrienne was frozen with shock.

“My business in the colonies is my business only,” He stated strongly. “And you are free to believe whatever you want, it would benefit me in the least to care about what you think. Am I being clear?”

Lady Adrienne could only stand in silence

“Security! I’d love for you to escort this maiden out of this quarters at once!”

He’d never forget the hatred in her eyes as she was humiliatingly taken away. Lafayette kept his mind on his current task: the colonies await his arrival.

—to be continued—

#alexander hamilton #thomas jefferson #hamilton #hamilton fanfic #hamiltrash #daveed diggs #thomas jefferson x reader #hamiltonau #lafayette x reader #alexander x reader #hamilton masterlist #battle royale #so hyped for this series #sorry to in the night chapter 3 for not starting you HAHA #hamilton the musical #george washington #daveed x reader #somewhat Ig #hamilton musical

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