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spacecadet-ticklesinspace · 1 year ago

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hi, can you write a platonic ler!Marc x lee!reader where Marc and the reader are playing a game and Marc accidentally finds out the reader is ticklish? and can the reader's weak spot be the armpits and hips?

Marc and Reader

Summary: See prompt above :)

hi! can you write a platonic ler!Marc x lee!reader where Marc accidentally finds out the reader is ticklish?

(I think these were sent in by the same Anon so I'm just putting them together ❤️ I'm sorry this took so long Anon ❤️ Thank you for your patience, I'm slowly starting to get better and I'm hoping to catch up on all of the prompts you guys have sent in ❤️ Have a great weekend you guys 👋 Enjoy! ❤️)

"Ha!" Marc threw his last card on the pile. "I win!"

"No fair!" You whined as you threw down all the cards in your hand.

"Sorry Y/N, I'm just too good at this game."

"You're a cheater, that's what!" You replied before sticking your tongue out at your friend.

Marc smirked. "Aww, don't be such a sour puss Y/N."

"I can't help it." You kicked at Marc. "I'm playing with a cheater!"

"Come on Y/N. Let's try again." Marc reshuffled the cards.

You whined. "What's the use?"

"It takes practice to get good. With a little practice you might---."

To be reassuring, Marc had reached over and squeezed your knee. However, Marc did not know one very important thing. You were extremely ticklish.

You let out a loud squeak and immediately pulled your knees away from his touch. Then your eyes widened when you realized what you had done. After witnessing the tag teaming Marc and Jake did on Steven, you kept the secret of your ticklishness under tight lock and key.

The smirk on Marc's face showed you wouldn't be able to talk your way out of this one. "Oh Y/N."

You gulped. "Y-yehes?"

"Have you been keeping a secret from us?"

You blushed darkly. "N-no!"

"I think you have." Marc sat up. "I think you've been keeping a special little secret from us."

You backed even farther away. "Nuh-uh y-you gohoose!"

The older knight scoffed. "Goose? Serihiously?"

"I'm nervohous!"

"Aww." Marc began to crawl toward you. "Why would you be nervous if you have nothing to hide hmm?"

You squeaked. "Get bahack! Evihil!"

"It's tohoo late Y/N. The monster is coming to get you!"

You felt your back hit a wall. "Wh-whahat monster?"

"The tickle monster!"

Then Marc pounced.

You were yanked forward until you were lying on your back. "Eep! Marc!"

The older knight began to spider his hand along the soles of your feet. "Aww, what's wrong?"

"Yohou're ticklihing mehe!"

"I'm not tickling you." Marc playfully pinched each of your toes. "The tickle monster is."

While not the most ticklish spot on your body, Marc's playful pinches managed to find all the squeaky giggles you had to offer. "Maharc!"

Then that hand began to spider up your leg. "How many times must I tell you Y/N? That's not my name."

"Wehell tehell Mister Tihickle Mohonster hehe suhucks!"

A loud gasp left Marc's mouth. "How dare you!"

Through your giggles, you managed to stick your tongue out at your friend. "Wehell he dohoes!"

That same hand began to crawl up to your thighs. "Now you're in big trouble Y/N."

Your eyes widened as your nervous giggles picked up. That hand was getting awfully close to one of your sweet spots.

"Oh?" Marc smirked. "Am I getting close?"

"Noho! N-nohot ahat all!"

"But what if I . . ." The older knight placed his hand on your hip. "Try here?"

You immediately froze. Just the feeling of his hand on your hip was enough to make you squirm.

"Hmm, this looks promising." To emphasize the word promising, Marc gave your hip a gentle squeeze.

Immediately, you squealed and bucked.

With an evil chuckle, Marc placed his other hand on your other hip. "This should be interesting."

"Maharc, Ihim beggihing yOOOOU! NAAAAH!"

The older knight grinned as he watched you be reduced to a squirming mess from only a few hip squeezes. "Awww, wittwe Y/N is awl wiggwy."

Now the blush on your face flamed even darker. "NOT AHA BABYHY!"

"But youwr awl wiggwy wike wone. Yes youw awre! Yes youw awre!"

Marc usually reserved those teases for when he tickled Steven. Now you knew exactly how he felt."

Finally, Marc's hands spidered onto your sides. "So Y/N, are there any other 'secrets' you wish to share?"

"Nohot ohon your lihife!" You exclaimed. You were keeping your other ticklish spot a secret because your life may depend on it.

"Come on Y/N, you can tell me."

You shook your head. "Yohou'll tickle mehe thehere!"

By now the older knight's hands were already crawling along your tummy. "What do you think I'll do when I find it on my own?"

That was code for he was going to tickle you more when he found it so you stayed quiet and giggled in anticipation.

The older knight chuckled as he moved up to your ribs. "Or are you hoping I'll find it on my own?"

"Sh-shuhu--."

"Awww." Those wiggling fingers climbed higher up your ribs. "You're so flustered."

You tried to subtly press your arms closer to your sides so he couldn't get to your armpits. Yet, you weren't subtle enough.

Marc wiggled his fingers into the ribs just below your armpits. "Did I find the spot you were trying to hide?"

"N-no!"

"I think I did." The older knight lifted your arms above your head and pinned them with one hand. "I think I found your tickle spot."

You bit your lip and shook your head.

Marc's free hand slowly wiggled toward your armpit. "I'll be the judge of that."

All of your protests turned to helpless babbling as you kept your eyes on that hand.

"Gootchie gootchie goo Y/N."

When those fingers dug in, the loudest squeal yet erupted from your mouth. Your whole entire body squirmed as ticklish shocks shot through your entire body.

But they couldn't keep the giant happy grin off of your face.

"Now that's the most precious things I've seen in a while," Marc teased.

It took a bit of effort, but you managed to slap Marc's arm.

The older knight paused his tickles. "All tickled out?"

"Yehes!"

"Aww, alright." Marc let your arms go. "But I'm definitely getting you again in the future."

As you rubbed the remaining ghost tickles away, you kicked a foot in the older knight's direction. "Shut uhup."

Marc smirked. "You never told me to stop."

The blush on your face darkened even more at Marc's observation so you covered your face to hide it. "Shuuush!"

"For nohow." Marc nudged your leg. "I want to beat you in another game ohof Uno."

You scrambled up to grab the cards. "Loser gets tickleheled!"

"You're on!"

Once the cards were reshuffled, the two of you got ready for another intense game of Uno.

#lee reader #ler marc spector #ticklefic

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rieindiegames · 2 years ago

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FAQs for IseKai

As we're gaining more traction and exciting times draw closer, I've decided to make a super post that's accessible for IseKai fans old and new! I'll try to keep this updated for ease of access.

What is Ise & Kai: Chosen Throne?

Ise & Kai: Chosen Throne is an interesting take on the isekai genre, where you forge the destiny of the realm, and play as the protagonist, Seina Kaimana, who's fighting to escape her predestined fate. The twist being she's isekaied back into her own world to face the problems she'd fled from.

Best Shorthand Name for this Game?

Either IseKai or ICT work best!

What platforms will the game release on?

The game will be released for PC on both Windows and Mac. On Steam and Itch.io

Who can I romance?

Officially there are two canon romantic love interests to pursue in IseKai. Ceres Awle, the protagonist's loyal knight, and the other is Ise, esteemed demon king of the other side of the realm. Yes, Kai's name remains in the title, and I promise that's important.

Who's in the Main Cast?

I consider the main cast of IseKai to be Seina, Ceres, Ise, Kai, and Lucius. Everyone else, regardless of their part is a side character.

MBTI and Other Fun Details of the Main Cast?

Seina: MBTI - INFP, Birthday - November 9th, Height - 173cm

Ceres: MBTI - ISFJ, Birthday - July 20th, Height - 190cm

Ise: MBTI - ENFP, Birthday - April 2nd, Height - 185cm

Kai: MBTI - ISTJ, Birthday - December 27th, Height - 175cm

Lucius: MBTI - ENTJ, Birthday - November 5th, Height - 178cm

Is This Game SFW or NSFW?

IseKai is a mature game with NSFW content. Stay safe out there when you play the final product. Content Warning List: (Coming Soon)

I Missed the Kickstarter So Now What?

Your support is appreciated! Following the dev process and showing support in any capacity, monetary or not is appreciated!

Where Else Can I Follow This and Its Development?

Twitter - But it's a hellscape out there these days. I prefer Tumblr's specific brand of mad house.

Itch.io - The very place you'll be able to play most of our games other than our website!

Patreon - Tumblr has our Tumblr brand of special content but Patreon is where we post all the uncensored male-presenting nipple goodies ;)

Ko-fi - The lovely space where you can throw a few bucks, and treat me to ramen like we're two friends hanging out IRL.

Instagram - Purely aesthetic space. Not entirely active atm, but better to diversify.

Twitch - Breathe over my shoulder in real time when I stream! Be that dev-work or chilling with a game or two!

TikTok - One day there will be a video on there, for now it's just MySpace Tom Aesthetic.

Carrd- Virtual Business Card!

Tumblr Tags

#Ask - Any questions sent in relating to the content of my works or about them.

#Answer - Any questions sent in relating to me, something I perceive as personal, or a general response to an asker. Usually I'll leave comments in the tags on these posts.

#Lore - Worldbuilding post.

#Guide - Any time I answer something other players may find useful as a walkthrough of sorts, I'll use this tag.

#Character Card - Quick references and teaser cards to various characters.

#Short Story - Any snippets of the short stories I've written for my works.

#Isekaichosenthrone/IseKai - Anything related to Ise & Kai: Chosen Throne. Note if the name of the game is already written somewhere on the post, I may not tag it, as it'll still be searchable.

#Isekai out of Context - Out of context screenshot[s] of isekai.

#Ict Screenie - Any screenshots from ICT will have this label.

#ICT ??? - Any content with the hidden title screen character, Question Question Question, from IseKai.

#Ceres Awle/Ceres - Any content containing the love interest Ceres Awle from IseKai.

#Ise - Any content containing the love interest Ise from IseKai.

#Kai - Any content containing Kai from IseKai.

#Lucius/Lucius Kaimana - Any content containing Lucius Kaimana from IseKai.

#Seina - Any content containing Seina Kaimana from IseKai.

#Demonic Court - Any content containing members of Ise's demon court from IseKai.

#Kaimana family - Any content containing broader members of Seina's family from IseKai.

#isekaichosenthrone #IseKai #ICT #Directory #FAQ #masterpost

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ospreyeamon · 1 year ago

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Writing the thing about how the Barsen’thor’s promotions are politically motivated compelled me to also blab about how that played out with my characters. Unsurprisingly, the answer is messily.

During the Desolator Crisis, Grandmaster Satele Shan tried to raise Jedi Masters on the relevant planets to provide backup for the response team, only to discover they couldn’t assist because of another immediate crisis. Even though all the Jedi affiliated by Terrak Morrhage’s plague survived, many of them are still recovering. New emergencies are always occurring. At least the Council and the Supreme Chancellor have a chance to defuse the situation with the Rift Alliance before it goes critical.

The threat to cut all ties with the Republic is surely a bluff; Erigorm would lose too many major clients, Manaan and Saleucami too much trade. The real risk is that the Republic planets might secede to form their own smaller republic with the neutral worlds. It’s hard enough to keep the Republic as it is functioning; two Republics on poor terms will become a nightmare that cannot be awoken from. Though it is unfair to the Republic worlds not threatening to secede to extort concessions from the Supreme Chancellor, the Jedi Council cannot ignore the political realities. Someone needs to take up the task of appeasing the Rift Alliance.

Supreme Chancellor Janarus is keen on Ekkaia Thome with the fancy title of Barsen’thor. Syo Bakarn isn’t sure they are the best Jedi for the job though. Ekkaia is competent and courageous, but they aren’t the best at dealing with people outside the Order. Syo sidesteps the Chancellor by privately asking Ekkaia over distance holocom if they would be interested in taking a mission involving placating some political interests, then asking Tomah Awl when Ekkaia says no.

Ekkaia silently resents that Tomah was promoted to Master ahead of her. She isn’t allowed to resent Tomah though; he didn’t ask to be promoted and she was obliquely offered the high-profile mission before he was. Ekkaia isn’t being discriminated against; Knight San-Esi, Hero of Tython, wasn’t promoted to Master either. It would be wrong of her to pass judgment on the Council. It’s not the Jedi Council’s fault for undermining the rank system for political reasons; it’s Supreme Chancellor Janarus and the Rift Alliance’s fault for being shallow.

Ekkaia is certain they will be promoted in due time. It is better to have things done the proper way, so no one can cast aspersions on your reputation. Ekkaia indicates to the Council that they feel ready for the responsibility of training a Padawan.

For her part, Knight San-Esi, Hero of Tython, views it as a relatively minor instance of the long-term problem of the Republic’s government interfering with the internal policies of the Jedi Order through the High Council. There have been nasty incidents in the past, like the Republic encouraging the High Council to exile Tasiele Shan when she petitioned for permission to marry and raise her daughter. Still, Tasiele’s daughter Satele is the Grandmaster. She wouldn’t let what happened to her mother happen to anyone under her authority, right?

So long as she stays away from the Senate it will just be the Order’s internal political mumbo jumbo affecting San-Esi and her promotion prospects.

Unlike Tomah Awl who was born in the Order and Ekkaia Thome who was given over by their family as a young child, San-Esi formally joined the Jedi Order as an adult in her late twenties. After the Great Galactic War and the sacking of the Coruscant Temple, the Order is still desperately short of Jedi. Stumbling across an already trained already powerful free-range scion of a Padawan who left the Order before the start of the Great Galactic War seemed like a gift from the Force. A lot of San-Esi’s training before Tython was her teachers confirming that she had come to them already possessing the skills of a Knight.

Some members of the Jedi Council, including Satele Shan, believe that San-Esi should be fast-tracked for Mastery. Not only is the Order short on Jedi in general, but even as the Grandmaster she sometimes has difficulties persuading them to listen to her. In cases like Master Tol Braga, it’s because he is also on the Council so she couldn’t overrule him when he continued working on his grand plan to redeem the Sith Emperor when two major crises erupted in Act 1. In cases like Nomen Karr, it’s because he cut communication to “avoid endangering a sensitive mission”. In cases like Nomar Organa, it’s because he was from a powerful family whose support the Order wants to maintain. Some Jedi view “Grandmaster” as a symbolic courtesy title and insist they are following the last order they were given by a different member of the Council.

San-Esi and Satele made a good initial impression on each other. They like each other. It’s a relief for Satele to have another Jedi who is eager to help the Council – not just by doing what she is told but by actively trying to identify problems and suggest solutions. That’s the kind of behaviour she wants to encourage.

Some members of the Jedi Council, including Jaric Kaedan, believe that San-Esi should absolutely not be fast-tracked for Mastery. He thinks it’s a bit suspicious that somebody taught by a half-trained Padawan would have developed the full skills of a Knight. The archives record that San-Esi’s mother’s Master was Vala Xuhor, who betrayed the Jedi in the first year of the Great Galactic War. No, he’s not accusing her of being a Dark Jedi or a Sith infiltrator, but it’s been proven there are infiltrators out there and they don’t know what Knight San-Esi got up to during her years as a rogue sentinel. Please don’t make him have this disagreement in public, Satele, he hates having the ultra-conservatives biased against Jedi who joined the Order as adults agree with him.

Tomah is very uncomfortable when they work out just how political their elevation to Master was. The Jedi’s rank system is not meant to be used this way. They do their best to live up to the rank, but the knowledge they shouldn’t have it – that other Jedi know they shouldn’t have it – adds a new layer of uncertainty to their interactions with other members of the Order.

A year passes. Ekkaia Thome and her Padawan are assigned to join Thomah in the hunt for the Children of the Emperor. Ekkaia is promoted to Master to give her the rank that the Jedi Council feels she will need to be taken seriously by the politicians; she had trouble getting the authorities in Act 1 to take her seriously when explaining that the Jedi Masters were possessed, which hopefully being a Master will help with. It also puts her on an even level with Tomah, which is important as they are meant to be co-leading the mission.

The Jedi Council assumed that Tomah would need extra backup to wrangle the Rift Alliance and battle the Children, but it appears that his neutral position between the worlds within the Alliance has made him a powerful leader within it. The Rift Alliance has gone from being a drain on the Order’s resources to actively supporting Jedi missions.

This is incredibly convenient. The Jedi have allies, but in the case of many of them like House Organa, the Jedi have been giving more support than they have been receiving. However, it will be difficult to direct the resources of the Rift Alliance without offending them if the Jedi Council is giving orders to Master Tomah Awl and just expecting the Rift Alliance to pitch in. If Tomah Awl was on the High Council, though, that would be another matter.

The problem with nominating Tomah for the High Council is that the more orthodox Jedi, including some members of the Council, are disquieted by how deeply influenced he has been by his studies with the Voss Mystics. It didn’t worry the Council before, but before they didn’t have reports on what it was the Voss actually believed.

The compromise is that fiercely orthodox Ekkaia also be offered a seat on the Council. Adding two young Masters wildly clashing philosophies does not result in a more harmoniously functional High Council. It does steadily destroy what remains of Tomah and Ekkaia’s friendship.

Ekkaia’s title of Barsen’thor names her as Warden of the Order. It’s her greatest duty to guard the Jedi from Dark influences – from weakness, from selfishness, from moral compromise. Other Jedi Masters made it clear that she was needed to provide a counter-balance against Tomah and she opposes him at every meeting. He represents outside political interference and dangerous Dark Force-traditions that cannot be permitted to affect the Council’s decision making.

San-Esi, when she and her companions return for their time Missing In Action with the Emperor’s Wrath in tow, is changed. Angry, confrontational, talking about hating and killing the Sith Emperor in a way she never talked about anyone before her capture. It’s concerning.

The Jedi Council is extremely sceptical of Lord Scourge’s claim that the Sith Emperor plans to destroy the entire galaxy, for reasons including but not limited to the fact that none of the members of the Council believe that destroying the galaxy is even possible. Still, his defection is convenient and should be capitalised on. Scourge will only follow San-Esi, so she must be assigned to the mission even if some of the Council would normally not be in favour of sending a Jedi displaying a drastic personality shift into the field. Jaric Kaedan says it’s a bad idea to send a Jedi who might be in danger of falling on a mission which could just be a giant trap, but Satele has faith in San-Esi. San-Esi has triumphed against incredible odds before, persevered under incredible stress before.

PTSD and the Force don’t mix well. That was something San-Esi knew, intellectually, before. PTSD affects your ability to regulate your emotions. The Light-Side comes when you are calm; if you cannot be calm, the Force fails you or the Dark-Side grips you to pull you forward instead. Pain, rage, grief, and fear are all parts of life that cannot be avoided. As a Padawan, she was guided through basic techniques drawing on the Dark-Side so that if she ever fell into using it, she would be more in control, less likely to do something she regretted before she came back to herself.

The knowledge of the Sith Emperor that broke Tol Braga burns in her mind. The nightmares about what she did under his control don’t stop. She cannot forget, cannot set it aside. Everyone is in immediate danger as long as the Emperor survives.

She asks Satele for help. Satele refuses her. She contacts Tomah and Ekkaia to ask if they can use the shielding ritual to permanently free Leeha Narezz. They have another mission, but Kira is at least able to tell them what she knows about the Children. People ask if she is alright. She tells them she’s not.

If she falters the mission will fail. If the mission fails everyone will die. If she can’t be calm her anger will have to do instead.

San-Esi knows that she is sliding down, struggling for control. She knows that what she is doing is dangerous. But what choice does she have? Unless the Jedi Council provides enough support to enable her to step away from combat, she must keep fighting.

San-Esi maintains her self-control – more or less – until she reaches Tol Braga. She reaches out with desperate compassion until she realises he is no longer under the Emperor’s control. That he aided the Emperor’s plan willingly. That in his arrogance he led them on that doomed mission and then abandoned them and Warren is dead.

In that moment, San-Esi hates Tol Braga as much as she does the Emperor. He is dead before she makes any conscious decision to kill him.

Satele has faith in San-Esi but that faith is being shaken. San-Esi is increasingly belligerent in her demands for backup for her mission even though she knows that the war has reignited and Jedi are desperately needed everywhere. Bela Kiwiiks tells her that her old Padawan approached her for advice, afraid that her friend was succumbing to the Dark-Side. She receives word that San-Esi executed Warren Sedoru, even though Satele saw with her over the holocom that she was able to subdue him alive. When she tells Satele that she has killed Tol Braga there is only rage and hatred in her words, no regret.

San-Esi really should be recalled to Tython, but Satele and the Council decide to ignore her fall to send her on one more mission. Their intelligence will not remain fresh much longer. It may be years before they have another opportunity to strike directly at the Sith Emperor. San-Esi insists that she will kill the Emperor, even when Satele reminds her it is not the Jedi way.

Some Jedi doubt the truthfulness of her report that Tol Braga, the Conscience of the Order, willingly did the bidding of the Sith Emperor. She ignores Satele’s warnings that the Order knows she’s letting her anger get the better of her, her warnings that she needs to guard herself more vigorously against the influence of the Dark-Side.

Knight San-Esi has stopped listening, stopped trying, stopped caring. Maybe stopped pretending, though it pains Satele to contemplate it.

If San-Esi doesn’t care about her relationship with Satele or her place in the Order anymore, then Satele needs to take drastic measures to force her to acknowledge the problem. Unless Satele can demonstrate to San-Esi her choices have consequences, she will continue down her Dark path until it destroys her.

She stages a confrontation it will be impossible for San-Esi to brush off. Afterwards, Satele realises too late that there had been plenty of bridge still left to burn.

#Meanwhile in a Galaxy Far Far Away #oc: Ekkaia Thome #oc: San-Esi Ouniera-kue #Satele Shan #oc: Tomah Awl #character death cw

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nvrcmplt · 1 year ago

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Zayde’s missing limb is only a hindrance when he isn’t working in the craft store. When he is working on an item for a witch/mage/sorcerer in need, his time to shine is evident with his ability to join with his shop's familiars.

His Crafting skills are but not limited too:

Armorer Carpenter Leather worker Weaver

His Magus Craft ‘Hands’ are commanded through his words and the familiar used for them

[ D-hammer Cuff ]

Named, Igar - Aged, 612 Element: lightening A Field Mouse like familiar with a knight's helm upon crown and crow etched paw guards. Igar - connects to Zayde’s shoulder that extends a metal skeletal bone up and down his limb to wrist. Upon Zayde’s face, a crow etched face guard over his nose and lips, whilst on his missing lip, it forms a metal-hand melted into a doming hammer on the end.

[ Saw Cuff ]

Named, Sawdust - Aged, 14 Element: earth A flying squirrel with a love for chewing, cutting and creating wooden items. He is the best in his business, though a little hot-tempered since he is the youngest of Familiar’s. His tail seems to be bent metal until he is summoned. Sawdust connects to Zayde’s missing limb, he literally becomes a arm brace around the forearm, his tail flared out; hardening and forming a saw that acts more like a chainsaw.

[ Round-knife Cuff ]

Named, Ariel - Aged, 100 Element: water A translucent pink, orange and white ghost of a Starfish; that floats among the ceiling. She, is a little dreamer, but is very good at cutting through the toughest of leather. Ariel, extends her five limbs, one wraps around Zayde’s forearm keeping her sealed to his skin, almost like a tattoo. Her other limbs take the form of round-bladed knives that cut and stylize leather and the other two into Awls to help in manipulating the tough fabric.

[ Needle Cuff ]

Named, Frodo - Aged, 90 Element: fire A plush Platypus that will stab anyone who dares touch it. He is a spiteful thing with a passion for fashion. His hidden claws are sewing needles! When Frodo joins with Zayde, his frame settles and merges with his forearm, facing down. The wrist gets covered in a plush extended duck beak that’s filled with pins and needles of different widths. His arms extend, forming long and extra limbs for Zayde to use.

#« ( Zayde ) » HC.#angy lookin' dood w/ cute familiars ty moegap

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awleather · 8 months ago

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Buy Stylish Medieval Shoes Online in Australia

Explore a collection of fashionable medieval shoes for sale in Australia. Buy online for quality and style. Elevate your look effortlessly!

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knightmuse · 2 years ago

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Snow and Coffee pt 1

Have you ever wanted to read a fanfic about Daryl from HM AWL/DS? Have I got the thing for you. Part 1 below.

Leaves crunched under your feet as she walked downhill from your farm. The red and gold of Fall had given way to a gray Winter, with an exceptionally windy week not only freckling the town with the last color of the season but also heralding in dense clouds. With your breath puffing out in front of you, you can’t help but feel proud to have ordered electric heaters for the barn and chicken coop before the cold set in. Proud to have helped Takakura to place the heavy things, the both of you standing back in mild apprehension as chickens clucked outside the door, counting down as you reached to flip the button to “ON”, ushering heat into the room and pushing out the chill. Those metal beasts hadn’t had any issues, but the space heater you’d secured for yourself had decided to be a little shit.

Stopping to breathe beside the Inn, you drag a hand over your face, recalling the first sharp “click” of the switch. Nothing. “Sometimes these things take a moment,” you threw towards Takakura before flipping the power switch back and forth multiple times, offering a musical prayer to whatever deity would pity your cold feet. You transformed the urge to kick the heater to a long sigh as you stood, watching Takakura rub his neck before leaving and returning with extra blankets from who-knows-where. For a while, fortified by thermal pajamas and wool socks, the blankets had proven themselves worthy against the cold. Until last night, when your chattering teeth woke you up before your alarm clock. The blizzard forecast on the TV scared you further and you went about your chores sluggishly wondering if it would be easier to bunk with your livestock for warmth or forsake your dignity and ask Takakura if he’d be interested in a sleepover. It took 10 minutes of warming yourself in the coop, surrounded by sleepy chickens, before your brain thawed enough to connect dots. Electric heater. Electric. E-LEC-TRIC. You soaked in a bit more warmth and hit the road as chickens clucked annoyedly at your back.

You’d never gotten used to the way the hair on the back of your neck pricks up as you approach the laboratory. Electricity buzzes through the air, arching off of the coils topping the resident mad scientist’s lair. You can’t tell if it’s nervousness or excitement that makes you brush off your clothes and run a tentative hand through your hair before knocking at the door. Heartbeats pass before you knock again, the cold placing more force behind your fist. A vaguely human noise sounds behind the door as something catches your eye. The first snow of the season has begun its descent, snowflakes dancing in the wind. Rubbing your arms, a large snowflake catches your attention. It’s not until you jump at the metallic bang of the door opening that you realize you’ve done a complete 180. Spinning around, you’re greeted by a familiar annoyed expression and bloodshot eyes. “What do you want? Your incessant noise almost ruined my experiment.” Steam flows from the cup in his hand, the smell of coffee pulling you towards him. “I, uh,” he’s begun to tap his foot, you clear your throat “my heater is broken. Can you help me?” The tapping stops, his eyes look past you, over your shoulder to the clouds in the distance. You rub your arms again, gripping your biceps to avoid snatching the warm mug from his hand. It’s a surprise when he unrolls his lab coat sleeves and closes the door behind him, finally meeting your eyes with his own.

It’s a brisk walk to the farm, Daryl’s coffee contrailing behind the two of you as clouds swirl overhead and snow begins to fall heavier. You would hesitate to pull open the door to your house if not for your excitement to escape the wind. You bounce on your heels as you shake off the snow from the trip, feeling like a stranger in your own home. You’re distantly thankful for your decision to bunk your dog with the livestock for the storm, knowing his disdain for the scientist who is now taking off his shoes in your entryway. The soles aren’t yet falling off this pair, although you know they’ve had some traffic since you gifted them to him in the summer. For his first time in your home, he seems more comfortable than you’d have guessed him to be as he throws his lab coat over a low table, places his mug carefully next to it, and immediately takes to looking at the heater positioned near your bed. Knowing better than to interfere with Daryl’s work, you let the sound of howling wind outside push you to the coffee maker.

You’re two scoops of grounds in before he’s dragging your beside table away from your bed, attempting to look behind it. A flash of something pink that’d been charging between the mattress and table sparks heat into your face. Your sudden plan to rush over and kick the hot pink vibrator under the bed, or maybe hide it under your pillow, is foiled as Daryl picks it up, the shock culminating in a mangled squeak in the back of your throat, drawing his attention from the object in his hand to you. Your mind races with questions. How is he just holding it? Why hasn’t he dropped it yet? Why is he holding it like he knows what to do with it? Finally, you choke out, “I’m so sorry.” Your embarrassment doesn’t stop you from wanting to slap him when he rolls his eyes and says, “You should be!” but your bafflement does as he drops the vibrator in favor of its charging cable, following it with his hands to the outlet behind the table. No fucking way. You move closer and watch as he tugs a black cable closer, dragging the heater across the floor before reaching back and plugging in the cord in one smooth motion. A whoosh of hot air joins the wind outside as heat kisses your calves. Bending to warm your hands, you hope the heat can be your alibi for a still-red face. “Honestly, I could’ve told you how to use an outlet plug at the lab.” You bring your warm hands to your cheeks as he moves to pick up his lab coat, moving towards the door. You stand and open your mouth to say something, anything, before being shocked by the speed in which he slides his feet into his shoes and forces your door open. He doesn’t make it past your threshold, his body tensing. Moving closer, you curse whatever deity pitied your cold feet as you look out at a blizzard quickly ramping up to full force.

#hm awl #hm ds cute #harvest moon #story of seasons #daryl x y/n #daryl harvest moon #harvest moon daryl #story of seasons a wonderful life #sos awl #knight fic #harvest moon: a wonderful life #harvest moon awl #harvest moon ds #hm ds

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cutiegrumpycerym · 3 years ago

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This is a commission I got from a friend.

Alprey with Knight (Corrupt!Horror) and their son Hunter, with their worst / darkest memory.

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Art by me

Corrupttale by me

PLEASE DON'T REPOST, COPY NOR TRACE MY ART !

ASK PERMISSION TO USE IT !

REBLOGS ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATED AND HELPFUL ! ^^

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silencebetrayer · 4 years ago

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Little People - An Irish Fairy Tale Part 2

The reign of dreams and roses

"Don't bother them, my dear. You were lucky they found your little trap hilarious!" "Mister O'Reilly, what happened in this valley? Why is everyone warning me against the little people?" A long silence followed, during which the old man sipped his Connemara peated whiskey. "Sweetheart, you may hear a lot of tales down at the pub, but also in our family there's something to tell. You've never known your cousin Billy, haven't you? Well, he might tell you about that time he became slave of the Queen of Spiny Roses for a whole moon cycle." "Slave?" "Don't be surprised. They're ancient souls. They conceive only those rapports they can understand and here in the citadel for a thousand years there was a Count and his servants. They don't understand this free life thing, without owners, where everyone seems equal to each other. They have a very strict hierarchy and I can promise you.. if you keep giving enough rope, they will tie you up. At least, that's what happened to Billy." "What did Billy have to do for the Queen?" "At that time Billy would have sold his soul to fill his glass, to those vices the good people like to cling. A night in the woods a little crowd of fairies bumped into giant Billy, the Queen ordered her folks to bring their guest a glass of the bitter Spirit's nectar. He guzzle that witches' brew without a single word. He could swear it was tasty like ambrosia of all forgotten Gods. The Queen claimed a payment for his drink and Billy started to mock her 'Is it I pay you?' said Billy 'could I not just take you up and put you in my pocket as easily as a blackberry?' The Queen did not let go of that insolence and the good lords tightened the invisible harness they caught him in and led him to their ruler like a steed. She imposed a vow of obedience till the end of next moon cycle and on occasion she showed off their rivals her power over him, claiming his tongue as footrest." "I don't get what you're saying, sir. You did tell me we've got power over fairy manifestation.. that it depends on our thoughts and our desires, our hopes and fears." The old man smiled "From what slavery would a man be freed? From drink-slavery or from a queen-slavery?" The girl understood that story was concealing a metaphor of redemption and humility. The old man's stories are indeed so bewildering: you never know where the symbol ends and the anecdote begins. "Anyway when we found Billy he was covered in stings from the waist up. He said the ball of Roses court had been held on his chest. A ball where every damsel's heel is a thorn of a flower and all skirts are petals. To us he had fallen in a field full of nettles." "What a strange story. I would never be enslaved by such a wicked Queen. Why didn't he rise up against her, I wonder." The old man shrugged muttering a proverb of his parts "The lake is not burdened by its swan, the steed by its bridle, or a man by the soul that is in him".

***

That night Elizabeth wrote a quick note in Gaelic by the windowsill:"I want to meet you. Come and see me.". She left a sugar cube as gift. The girl rolled over her bed restlessly, hoping her message would reach its destination and, as often happens, sleep came all of a sudden, like a swoon. She found herself in a very strange place never seen before. It resempled an ancient kitchen on the basement of a castle, with no windows, red briks as walls and roof, painted cardboard as wallpaper on one side, a makeshift chimney. Outside the noise of the rain was heavy and emptied out of the comforting sensation with which it gifted melancholic souls. She was identifying in that room a combination of minuscule things. All chairs were small wooden cubes of an old child's game, and so was the table. They weren't comfy, but pieces of cloth stuffed with wool, roughly sewn, gave softness to the seat. A pocket mirror served as tray for a miniature porcelaine tea set, a bit chipped, but lovely at first sight. The sugar cube she had left in gift was lying right next to it, with an awl sticked at its center. The girl realized she was falling in a bizarre dream scenario, but something real was also taking place. "Is this a dream?" "Of course, little girl" answered a middle-aged male voice from the outside. The small door of that sort of kitchen was a metal shutter. A man was moving it with his shoulder, carrying a bundle of sticks or twigs bound together and a bucket of water. Covered with a waterproof plastic bag, the man laid down all the materials and cast a glance over the table to be sure everything was in place. His big nose and bushy eyebrows gave him an austere touch and there was something of the craftsman's wisdom in his skilled hands and his silence. He hunged his unusual coat on the knight's head of a chessboard (his clothes rack, she guessed). The girl was paralyzed and hugged herself in the nightgown. She wasn't cold, the atmosphere was warm enough, she was feeling a sense of vulnerability that made her closed off. The man took care of the fireplace and fill the water on the teapot. "Come closer to the fireplace, kid!" He had a raspy voice and an unjustified scowl to her feeling. "Why'd you bring me here?" He looked her up and down like a fool, then he nodded toward the table where a piece of paper was serving as tablecloth. 'I want to meet you.' read the girl, recognizing her handwriting. "But.. are you Tuvia!?" After a moment of silence, during which the man was trying to catch the sincerity of the question, he laughed outright "AHAHAH Me? That leaf in the wind? Do I seem a rain spirit?! I thought you were a smart one, kid, but if these are the premises.." The girl didn't seem to appreciate the little man humour "So Sir.. you picked up a message that was not addressed to you. Why should you interfere with my correspondence?!" "Correspondence? Look, sweetie.. what do you think we have a mail service here in Bluebell forest? We give more values to a tree then your own kind.. we don't waste their sheets for a futile message." "Who the hell are you, anyway? Little people? What are you doing here in my dreams?" "That's how we meet for the first time. We don't accept invitations from strangers." The teapot started to splutter on the fireplace, the steam bubbles looked like small domes and the water sounded so much deeper then usual.. she understood that her size was making every sound so alien and unsettling. From the infusion aromas of wildflowers started to spread in the room. "What's your name?" "My dear, what sort of question is that? I'm the guardian spirit of O'Really's family. My name's O'Really, of course" "So.. Do Guardian spirits take the name from the family they protect?" He didn't answer. He didn't seem to like rhetorical question, but was forcing himself to stay kind and served the tea calmly with a piece of sugar cube in it. "Listen, child. We Home spirits don't talk more than is strictly necessary. Our silence is our invisibility. So let me get right to the point: you heard elder O'Reilly advice before.. Do not upset the spirits of these woods. He's telling you this for your own good" Being called 'child" from that Spirit turned Elizabeth against him. She changed attitude and the tone of voices turned sharp and bitter. "So you just don't collect someonelse's letters, you also eavesdrop their conversations!" Talking to her was a great exercise in patience, he acknowledged. "It's not what you're thinking.. I can't just ignore whatever happens inside these walls. We're born from the feelings of this family, if they are worried for you, so am I. That's why I appear in your dream." "I weep from your sudden sentimentality" she said sarcastically "but I'm willing to bet that you were able to eavesdrop on our conversations simply because your lair is not so far from the fireplace" "I'm warning you, don't try to find it. You'd cause trouble to the O'Really family!" "Perhaps you should've considered that before you invited me in first place, you silly little man! Now, give this KID here a good reason she should not wake up and start to play cat-and-mouse game with you?" She sipped the tea, staring at the little spirit with an imperious smile that didn't bode well. "A reason, you say? With humans reasoning is not persuasive. I just pointed the sill you shall not cross, my dear, I didn't mean to push you through it" "Advice I didn't ask for" she crossed her arms and the situation freezed up. The home spirit resigned himself. "How do I wake?" she asked. "Don't worry, soon enough you'll be laying in your bed. Humans have control over the waking hours, but we spirits have our revenge in dreams realm. You're lucky we didn't inherit your cruelty. Anyway, if I can't dissuade you, I will be your messenger and maybe one day I will lead you to Tuvia" "I don't get if you're here to sabotage me or to help me" "We should not threaten the delicate balance currently in place in Bluebell forest. The Queen of Roses is the keeper of this equilibrium, she can't bear humans intrusiveness into her reign. Especially from someone that does look like her." "Do I look like the Queen of Roses?" Elizabeth's questions were to him as sharp and wit as the echo of a well. "Tuvia fought The Court of Roses, you know?" "That light thingie? He's fragile like a blade of grass. I bet if I dare to lay down in the garden he'd become a stain on my dress. Also, if he's so brave why isn't he in the forest, why doesn't he just keep fighiting?" "He's an exile, he no longer knows the comfort of a border. He's devoted to the rain, cause he sees himself and his destiny in the clouds. A new Queen would save him. But he doesn't want to be saved!" The Spirit of O'Reilly got pretty mouthy with sadness. Elizabeth recognized some of the distinctive features of elder Mr O'Reilly and the hardness of Mrs O'Reilly too. A weird mix of both personality traits. Elizabeth sipped the infusion, this time fully enjoying the aroma of freshly picked flowers. She felt her body tossing in her sleep.. she didn't want to wake right now. O'Reilly spirit stared at her then nodded as a farewell. When she opened her eyes, the Spirit's last words were echoing in her head, filling the heart with an odd hope "a new Queen.." she repeated to herself. She could have sworn to feel the wildflowers taste on the tip of her tongue.

To Be Continued...

Ita version

Il regno delle rose e dei sogni

"Non disturbarli, ragazza mia. Sei stata fortunata che abbiano preso con umorismo la tua piccola trappola! In qualche modo devono aver trovato la tua provocazione uno spasso!" "Signor O'Reilly, cosa è successo in questa valle per cui tutti mi mettono in guardia da loro" Ci fu un lungo silenzio in cui il vecchio sorseggiò il suo Whiskey, rigorosamente torbato del Connemara. "Sweetheart, ne potresti sentire un bel pò giù al pub. Ma in famiglia abbiamo già di che raccontare. Tu non lo hai mai conosciuto il cugino Billy. Beh, lui potrebbe dirti di quella volta che restò schiavo per una luna intera della regina delle fate Rosa Spinae." "Schiavo?" "Non ti stupire, sono anime antiche, concepiscono solo i rapporti che conoscono e per più di 1000 anni qui nella rocca c'era un conte e i suoi servi, non la capiscono questa faccenda moderna del vivere senza padroni, dove tutti sembrano uguali eccetera. Hanno una rigida gerarchia e puoi giurarci che se continui a dargli spago ti daranno il bel servito, come fu per il vecchio Billy" "Cosa fece Billy per la regina?" "A quel tempo Billy si sarebbe dannato l'anima per riempirsi il bicchiere, ed è ai vizi che il buon popolo si appiglia. Quando una notte in un bosco la piccola schiera si imbattè in quel gigante, la regina ordinò che gli fosse portato un bicchiere del fiele degli spiriti, lui non se lo fece ripetere e lo trangugiò d'un fiato. Billy giurò che era il nettare liquoroso di tutti gli dei ormai dimenticati. La regina reclamò un pagamento e Billy la derise 'Io pagare te? Ma se posso metterti tranquillamente in tasca come una mora!' La regina non passò sopra quell'insolenza e il buon popolo lo legò a briglie invisibili che non potevano essere sciolte e quel che è peggio gli impose il voto dell'obbedienza per una luna intera. Di venne il destriero della regina, ma all'occorrenza la regina dava sfoggio di potere alle sue rivali, reclamando la lingua del gigante come poggiapiedi" "Non mi torna quel che dite, signore. Avevate detto che noi abbiamo potere sulla manifestazione delle fate e che dipendono dai nostri desideri" Il vecchio sorrise "Quale schiavitù potrebbe desiderare un uomo? Quella del suo bicchiere o della sua regina?" La ragazza capì che quella storia celava una metafora di redenzione e umiltà. Avevano questo di disorientante, i racconti del vecchio: non sapevi mai dove finiva il simbolo e cominciava l'aneddoto. "Comunque quando lo trovarono Billy era ricoperto di punture dalla vita in su. Disse che sul suo petto si era tenuto il ballo della corte delle Rosa Spinae, in cui ogni damigella ha per tacco una spina di un fiore e per gonna i suoi petali, ma per molti era solo caduto su un campo di ortiche" "Che storia strana. Ma io non sarei mai schiava di una regina così perfida. Perchè non si è ribellato, mi chiedo?" commentò lei "Il cigno non pesa sul suo lago, la briglia non pesa al suo cavallo, né l'anima sull'uomo che la possiede" cantilenò l'uomo, facendo spallucce.

Quella notte scrisse una piccola nota in gaelico che lasciò davanti al davanzale. Diceva soltanto: "Voglio conoscervi. Venitemi a trovare", lasciò una zolletta di zucchero in dono. Si rigirava nel letto inquieta, nella speranza che il messaggio arrivasse a destinazione, e come spesso accade il sonno arrivò come un deliquio, senza preavviso. Si ritrovò in un luogo che non aveva mai visto prima d'ora. Una specie di antica cucina, senza finestre, mattoni rossi tutt'intorno, carta da parati di cartone con le sembianze di un giardino davano più respiro alla stanza. Fuori il rumore della pioggia era pesante e svuotato della sensazione di conforto che regala agli animi malinconici. Individuava negli oggetti della stanza una combinazione di cose minuscole. Le sedie erano piccoli cubetti di legno, appartenuti a qualche antico gioco. così come il tavolo. Non erano per nulla comodi, ma i pezzi di stoffa imbottita e cucita grossolanamente davano sollievo alla seduta. Uno specchietto da beauty asserviva alla funzione di vassoio sul quale erano poggiate tazzine che potevano provenire da un servizio da the in miniatura per bambole di porcellana, un pò sbeccato, ma grazioso a vedersi. La zolletta che aveva donato stava su un lato del ripiano di legno, con una specie di punteruolo conficcato al suo centro. La ragazza capì che era un sogno, ma aveva qualcosa di reale. "E' un sogno, questo?" "Certo, ragazzina" Rispose la voce di un uomo di mezza età dall'esterno. La porticina della cucina non era che un pezzo di serranda di ferro, l'uomo entrò con in mano dei legnetti rilegati e un secchiello d'acqua, avvolto in un impermeabile di tela. Poggiò l'occorrente a lato della porta, le sopracciglia cespugliose gli conferivano un'aria severa e le mani vissute, una saggezza artigianale. Appese l'insolito impermeabile sulla testa di un cavallo di scacchiera, che evidentemente fungeva da appendiabiti. La ragazza era paralizzata e si stringeva nella sua camicia da notte, non per il freddo, l'atmosfera era calda nonostante il rifugio sembrasse improvvisato, erano le pareti laterali di mattone ad emanare calore, ma avvertiva un senso di vulnerabilità che la faceva chiudere a riccio. L'uomo si premurò di accendere il fuoco in un buco del mattone e di riempire la teiera sospesa sul paiolo sostenuto da una corda e un ago, dalla capocchia ornata da una manigliuola. "Vieni più vicino alla luce del fuoco, ragazzina!" Aveva una voce roca e il tono presentava un cipiglio ingiustificato agli occhi di lei. "Si può sapere perchè mi trovo qui?" L'uomo la squadrò come a darle della matta, poi con un cenno del capo fece notare che la tavola era apparecchiata sul suo frammento di pergamena "Voglio conoscervi", riconobbe la ragazza. La sua scrittura. "Ma.. siete.. siete Tuvia?!" Dopo un attimo di silenzio, in cui l'uomo la fissava per cogliere in lei la sincerità della sua domanda, scoppiò in una fragorosa risata "AHAHAH Io? Quell'uccell di bosco di Tuvia!? Ho l'aria da piovano, io? Ti credevo sveglia ma se queste sono le premesse.." La ragazza non sembrava aver apprezzato l'umorismo dell'omino "Allora signore.. avete forse raccolto un messaggio non rivolto a voi!? Come vi permettete di interferire con la mia Corrispondenza!" "Corrispondenza? Senti dolcezza, cosa pensi che abbiamo il servizio postale in quel di Bluebell? Noi ai fogli d'albero diamo ben altro valore. Non lo sprechiamo per messaggi futili e sconsiderati." "Chi diavolo siete voi e che ci fate nei miei sogni?" "E' così che ci si incontra noi, la prima volta! Non accettiamo inviti dagli sconosciuti" La teiera cominciava a scoppiettare sul fuoco, le bolle di vapore avevano un aspetto cupolare e un suono più cupo del normale, dovevano essere quelle dimensioni a rendere ogni rumore anche il più familiare totalmente estraneo e inquietante. Nella stanza cominciò a diffondersi un odore di fiori che proveniva dall'infuso. "Come vi chiamate?" "Che razza di domanda è? Sono lo spirito protettore degli O'Reilly, quindi mi chiamo come loro" "Gli spiriti protettori portano il nome della famiglia?" Non rispose, sembrava un pò scocciato dalla retoricità delle domande, ma la ragazza aveva l'impressione che si sforzasse di essere gentile. Aveva messo in infusione una manciata di briciole di the e polline che raccoglieva da una bustina dilaniata come un sacchetto. Versò l'infusione nella tazzina che stava di fronte a lei. Staccò un paio di pezzi dalla zolletta per lei, sapeva persino come prendeva il the. "Ascolta ragazzina, noi spiriti della casa non parliamo più dello stretto necessario. Il nostro silenzio è la nostra invisibilità, quindi fammi andare al punto: Hai sentito cosa ha detto il buon vecchio O'Reilly stasera no? 'Non disturbare gli spiriti del bosco', lo ha detto per il tuo bene." Al sentirsi chiamare 'ragazzina' il tono della voce di lei si fece più risentito e squillante "Quindi oltre che profanatore di lettere, anche un origliatore maleducato" L'omino sospirò con enorme esercizio di pazienza "Non è come pensi.. non mi è possibile ignorare quello che succede entro queste mura, siamo nati dai sentimenti della famiglia che ha costruito questa casa. Se ti appaio in sogno è perchè questa famiglia si preoccupa per te" "il vostro sentimentalismo mi commuove" disse sarcasticamente, "ma sono pronta a scommettere che voi avete origliato per il semplice fatto che questo vostro rifugio si trova vicino al focolare" "Ti avverto ragazzina, non cercare di trovarlo, causeresti un dolore agli O'Reilly" "Dovevate pensarci prima di invitarmi qui, razza di stupido omino. E adesso datemi una buona ragione per cui questa 'ragazzina'" rimarcò la parola "non dovrebbe svegliarsi e venire a farvi fare la fine del topo" Sorseggiava la tazza di the adesso, fissando l'uomo con un sorriso imperioso, che non prometteva nulla di buono. "Ragioni? Se c'è qualcosa che so degli esseri umani è che la logica con voi non è persuasiva. Ho solo indicato la soglia da non varcare, ragazza mia, ma non era mia intenzione regalarvi la determinazione per attraversarla." "Il vostro consiglio non è richiesto" Incrociò le braccia. Calò un pò di gelo tra i due. Il sadismo giovanile di lei aveva fatto affiorare al viso del vecchio uno sguardo triste, leggermente rassegnato. "Come faccio a svegliarmi?" "Non ti preoccupare, presto sarai sul tuo letto, bambina. Voi avrete pur il controllo dei momenti di veglia, ma noi abbiamo la nostra rivincita nei sogni e sei fortunata che non abbiamo la vostra stessa crudeltà. Comunque.. se non posso dissuaderti, sarò il tuo messaggero e un giorno, forse, ti porterò da lui." disse quasi burbero "Quasta poi.. volevate sabotarmi e adesso vorreste anche farmi da guida" "La foresta di Bluebell si basa su un fragile equilibrio, il custode di quell'equilibrio, la Regina delle Rose, non ama l'invadenza umana, specie da una che le somiglia così tanto" "Io... somiglierei alla Regina?" Ignorò ancora quelle domande che avevano la stessa arguzia dell'eco di un pozzo. "Tuvia l'ha combattuta, sai.. la Corte delle Rose Spinae." "Quel cosino? Ma se è fragile come un filo d'erba. Scommetto che se mi stendessi in giardino, potrebbe diventare una macchia sul mio vestito. Se è così coraggioso, poi, perchè non è nella foresta a combattere?" "Lo vedi in giardino perchè è un esule e non conosce più la comodità di un confine. Si è consacrato alla pioggia, perchè si riconosce nelle nuvole. Una nuova regina.. questo lo salverebbe. E lui.. non vuole essere salvato!" Lo spirito degli O'Reilly con la tristezza si era fatto stranamente loquace, riconosceva qualcosa nel vecchio in lui, aveva la stessa dolcezza sotto una scorza dura che era più simile a quella della signora O'Reilly, uno strano mix. Elizabeth sorseggiò quell'infuso, stavolta godendone appieno l'aroma. Era come di tiglio. Avvertì che si stava agitando nel sonno. Non voleva svegliarsi proprio ora. Lo spirito degli O'Reilly la fissava e con un cenno del capo sembrò quasi accomiatarsi. Quando riaprì gli occhi sul suo letto, le ultime parole dello Spirito riecheggiavano ancora nelle sue orecchie riempiendola di non so quale speranza.. "Una nuova regina", si ripeteva. Poteva giurare di sentire ancora il sapore di tiglio sulla punta della lingua.

#fairy #sizeshifter #giantess #tiny #giant/tiny #male fairy #ireland #irlanda #gigantessa #g/t #g/t writing #g/t fiction #g/t fluff #g/t community #borrowers #g/t sfw #g/t story #g/t fantasy #gentle g/t

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meeselikedramatoo · 4 years ago

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all dramas masterlist

okay some of these totally have notes.

#alive 100 days my prince 200 pounds beauty 38 task force 49 days 4th period mystery a company man a day a dirty carnival a frozen flower a hundred year’s inheritance a korean odyssey a millionaire’s first love a moment to remember a poem a day a special lady a tale of two sisters a tree with deep roots absolute boyfriend abyss aftermath alchemist along with the gods: the last 49 days along with the gods: the two worlds an actor is an actor angel eyes angel’s last mission: love antique bakery arang and the magistrate are you human too? arthdal chronicles ashfall athena: goddess of war awl bad guy bad guys beautiology101 because it’s the first time big birth of a beauty - ??? black black knight: the man who guards me blind blood born again brain bride of the century bring it on, ghost broken cain and abel cello cheese in the trap cheo yong 1 & 2 cheongdamdong alice children of a lesser god - ??? children of nobody chuno cinderella and the four knights cinderella man cinderella’s sister circle city hunter class of lies coffee prince cold eyes confession (2015) confession (2019) confession of murder (kr) confession of murder (jp) crash landing on you criminal minds cyrano agency dead friend death bell death bell 2 defendant derailed - ??? descendants from the sun designated survivor: 60 days detective k: secret of the living dead diary of a prosecutor - ??? dinner mate doctor john doctor stranger doctors dong yi don’t click emergency couple empire of lust empress ki encounter entertainer entourage - ??? fabricated city - ??? faith fashion king (2014) fight for my way five fingers flower crew: joseon marriage agency forest forgotten full house (2004) gap dong ghost goblin goddess of fire, jeongi god’s gift - 14 days god’s quiz - ??? golden time gonjiam: haunted asylum good doctor goong graceful family grand prince granny’s got talent green rose - ??? gu family book gye baek haechi he is psychometric healer her private life high society hindsight hong gil dong horse doctor hospital playlist hospital ship hotel del luna hotelier hotel king hwajeong - ??? hwang jin yi hwarang i have a lover i hear your voice i remember you i’m not a robot iljimae innocent man insane introverted boss investigation couple iris 1 & 2 itaewon class item it’s okay not to be okay it’s okay, that’s love jang ok jung jealousy incarnate jewel in the palace joseon gunman jumong - ??? kill me, heal me killer toon king of baking, kim tak goo king2hearts kingdom 1 & 2 kingmaker kkondae intern - ?? lawless attorney legend of the blue sea liar game lie to me life (2018) - ??? live up to your name, dr. heo love alarm love in sadness love in the moonlight love in harvard - ??? lovers in paris - ??? mad dog maids marry him if you dare mask meloholic melting me softly memoir of a murderer - ??? memories of murder - ??? memories of alhambra memorist memory (2016) metamorphosis method midas miracle in cell number 7 mirror of the witch misaeng miss hammurabi miss ripley monster (2016) moorim school mother (2018) my girl - ?? my girlfriend is a gumiho my holo love my id is gangnam beauty my sassy girl (2001) my wife is a gangster (1, 2, & 3) mystic pop-up bear night watchman’s journal nightmare teacher oh my ghost (2015) oh my venus parasite partners for justice 2 perfume personal taste phanrom detective phone pink lipstick pinocchio possessed (201() prime minister and i prison playbook private lives prosecutor princess psychokinesis psychopath’s diary queen for seven days queen inhyun’s man queen of mystery 1&2 queen of reversals queen of the ring queen seon deok rampant - ?? rebel (2017) rebel: thief who stole the people remember reply 1997 reset - ??? resurrection rooftop prince rookie historian goo hae ryung ruler: master of the mask running man (not the game show) rv: resurrected victims saimdang: light’s diary save the last dance for me scarlet heart-ryeo scholar who walks the night search: www secret (2013) shark (don’t look back: the legend of orpheus) shine or go crazy shining inheritance shopping king loue sign - 2011 signal (2016) six flying dragons sky castle socialphobia solomon’s perjury - ?? something about 1 percent something in the rain special affairs team ten 1 & 2 spellbound splash splash love stranger (2017) stranger 2 strangers from hell strong woman do bong soon sungkyungkwan scandal suspicious partner tell me what you say temptation of an angel temptation of wife terius behind me the bride of habaek the chosen: forbidden cave the closer the cursed - ??? the devil the divine fury the equator man the face reader the fiery priest the flower in prison the game: towards zero the ghost detective the girl who sees scents the great seducer the handmaiden the heirs the host the k2 the king and i the king and the clown the king: eternal monarch the king’s face the last empress the magician the man from nowhere - ??? the master’s sun the mimic the moon that embraces the sun the nokdu flower painter of the wind the phone the princess’s man the producers the queen’s classroom the royal gambler the royal tailor the scarlet letter the school nurse files the secret life of my secretary the secret message the silenced the village: achiara’s secret the villainess - ??? the wailing - ??? the whispering - ??? the witness (2018) the world of the married touch train to busan tunnel (2016) tunnel (2017) vip (2019) voice (1, 2, & 3) w watcher weightlifting fairy kim bok joo what’s wrong with secretary kim when i was most beautiful when the camellia blooms when the devil calls your name where stars land while you were sleeping whisper whispering corridors white christmas white: the melody who are you (2013) winter sonata - ? witch you hee - ? witch’s court yi san yong pal you who came from the stars you’re beautiful

want to watch late night restaurant missing: the other side money flower my secret hotel peninsula revenger the silenced sound of a flower take of nokdu the throne true fiction

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rose-in-june-blog · 5 years ago

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translation: The biography of Xu Wenchang

徐文长传

明代：袁宏道

The biography of Xu Wenchang

Ming dynasty, Yuan, Hongdao

*the given name of the writer, Hongdao, means “broad way”

In my youth I once passed the market, and saw the script of a northern poetic drama “Four Calls of the Ape”, whose conception and spirit was so unconstrained and heroic, that it seemed completely different from all legends created by recent literary men. The author signed “the literary man from Tianchi”, and I guessed he lived in Yuan, the last dynasty(*Tianchi can also be translated as “heaven lake”). Later, I went to the province Yue, and saw in someone’s house a calligrapher, whose creator signed “tian shui yue”(*meaning the images of field, water and moon). The calligraphy showed great vigour and strength, and reflected vividly the refusal to accept fate. I was much startled by it, and yet didn’t know who the creator was in reality.

One night I sat in the home of my friend Tao, a royal compiler, took out a random book from his shelf and found it to be a poetry anthology named “unfinished collection”. The book used poor paper and bad printing, and it was hard to figure out the characters. I moved towards the light to see clearer, yet as soon as I read several poems, I was surprised and jumped up suddenly to call my friend Shikui(Tao’s art name, meaning “basket for stones”): “who is the author of these poems? Is he contemporary or ancient?” And my friend said: “This is the collection of Sir Xu Tian Chi, a predecessor who is born in my hometown. His given name is Wei, his courtesy name is Wen Chang(* “Wei” comes from the name of a long river. The literal meaning of “Wenchang” is “literacy long”, which conveys the hope that the man’s achievement on literacy shall be as great as the river). He lived during the eras of the last emperor, and died just about five or six years ago. The inscriptions or calligraphers signed ‘Tian Shui Yue’ are just written by him.” I only get to discover then, that all three authors that impressed me were just one man, Mr. Xu Wenchang. Since the field of poetry has been barren and polluted for a long time, the discovery of such a great collection was like waking from a nightmare. We both jumped up and gathered under the light, read, cried, and cried and read again, to the extent that the servants asleep were all waken up. From then on, no matter when I write or when I talk, I always highly praised and recommended Sir Wenchang. Whenever someone visits me, I take out those poems to read together. And soon the great literary men all knew him and began to admire him.

Wenchang was a Xiucai in Shanyin province, failed in further imperial examinations for several times, and lived a bold and unconstrained life(* xiucai is a social range for learned men who passed the first level of imperial examination, but not the second and the third. Once people passed the second level of imperial examination, they will get the chance to be officials, yet Xiucai cannot. However, like knights, Xiucais were in a relatively high place in the social hierarchy and had certain privileges). The marshal, the Honourable lord Hu Meilin appreciated him, and invited him to act as his advisor(*Meilin was Hu’s art name, which means “woods of plum trees”). Wenchang required: “If you want me to work for you, please treat me as your guest and allow me to enter and leave your house whenever I want.” Lord Hu agreed all. Then Wenchang bowed to him and sat down in black hat and Keh clothes, and talked thoroughly about the situation of the world as naturally and fluently as if nobody else was evaluating him. Lord Hu was very glad about that. At that time, Lord Hu lead the troops of several frontiers, and his mighty name inspired awe throughout the southern and eastern part of the country. The soldiers, though strong in armours, knelt in front of him and dared not raise their heads; yet Wenchang, as a weak intellectual under his governance, could act talk and joke as he pleased, showing no trace of fear. It then happened that a white deer that was deemed as auspicious was caught, and Lord Hu let Wenchang write the letter to our late emperor. The late emperor was pleased when he read the letter, so lord Hu attached more importance to Wenchang, and let him write all the documents and letters to the central government.

Wenchang is proud of his own literary and military talents. He likes giving unusual strategies and often goes straight to the heart of the matter when he talks about military. All the strategies lord Hu used to make the pirates, including Wang and Xu, surrender, were discussed secretly among the two. Once Wenchang drank at a restaurant, and several soldiers also came to drink and refused to pay. Wenchang secretly wrote several words to tell lord Hu about that, and lord Hu immediately ordered to arrest these soldiers, and sentenced them to death. The whole army was frightened by that. A monk carried vile conduct, believing that he could not be punished because he was rich. Wenchang occasionally talked about that to lord Hu when he is drunk, and lord Hu later found an opportunity and killed that monk. Such trust between the two can be manifested by the two examples.

Lord Hu appreciated Wenchang’s talents and ability, and lamented for his failure in imperial tests. During the next provincial imperial test, Lord Hu secretly told each examiner: “Mr. Xu has the ability to be in charge of the whole country, if you see his paper, please don’t miss this talent.” All agreed. Only one head of a county, who was also an examiner, was tripped by some problems in his own county and visited lord Hu very late, and Lord Hu occasionally forgot to tell him about that. Yet this man happened to mark Wenchang’s paper, and Wenchang was not selected again.

Finding himself not appreciated by the mainstream scholars, Wenchang behaved unrestrainedly, indulged himself in drinking as well as in enjoying the beauty of nature. He travelled across the regions of Qi, Lu, Yan, and Zhao, viewing all the sceneries in the desserts. All the scene he saw: the running mountains, standing waves, rising sands, moving clouds, crying of winds, bending trees, deep and serene valleys, grand and busy cities, various people and animals...are presented by poetry. Meanwhile, in his bosom lies an ineffaceable spirit, with the grief and resent of a hopeless hero. So his poem are like angry rebukes, like loud laughter, like sound of water running in narrow canyons, like seedlings bursting out of the soil, like widows weeping at night, like travellers leaving in coldness. His artistic conception can be as vast as thousands of miles of plain, or as steep and secluded as ghosts speaking in autumn graveyards. His sight surpasses time, his work is unique in the era. The so-called high ranking and noble literary men were all despised by him, and so his fame was limited to his hometown province. How lamentable!

Once he drank at an official of his hometown’s. The official plead him to write a Fu, i.e., an article in verse, about a specified small thing on the table, and secretly told the servant to give Wenchang a piece of paper as long as a zhang(more than three meters) to challenge him. However, Wenchang began writing as soon as he got the pen and filled the paper with his excellent creation. His artistic conception was vigorous and unrestrained, and his article left nothing imperfect, so that all at the banquet were shocked.

Wenchang loved writing calligraphy. His handwriting was as untrammelled and forceful as his poems, and a unique charm stands out from his forceful writings. I cannot write good calligraphy, but I personally feel that Wenchang’s calligraphy is better than the famous artists, Wang Yayi and Wen Zhengzhong’s. It is not the skill of writing, but the spirit behind that is valued here: my sir is indeed a hermit sage and an untrammelled swordsman in the field of calligraphy. His excessive talent overflew to the field of drawing, and the flowers, grass, bamboos and stones he drew were all unrestrained, detached and interesting.

Yet in the end he killed his second wife out of suspicion, and was almost sentenced to death. Zhang Yanghe paid great efforts to negotiate to make him released. And he was as stubborn as before. In his twilight years he was more enraged by the world, and acted more crazily. The dignitaries who visited him were all refused, the powerful officials couldn’t get one calligraphy from him. Sometimes he went to the bars and asked the servants there to drink with him. Once he hit his head with an axe until blood covered his face and the bones were broken, and rubbed the bones to make strange sounds. Once he hit his bottom with a hammer. And once he inserted sharp awls into his ears for more than a cun(three centi-meters), and yet he did not die of that.

(* By this time, the marshal Hu has already died in the prison because of political struggle for many years)

My afore-mentioned friend Shikui said: Wenchang’s poetry and articles became more unique in his twilight years, yet he did not print them and put all his writings at his home. I have only seen two of them: “The Anthology of Xu Wenchang” and “Unfinished Collection”. Yet without being recognised, he died with the anger to this unfair age.

I, Shigong(*the art name of the author means “Mr. stone”), would comment like this: my sir was so unlucky and met so many obstacles in his life, that madness has infected him, and this madness brought him to the jail. In the history, the literary men often meet difficulties and hardships, yet nobody met as many as he did. Yet lord Hu was indeed a hero, and treated him with special respect, which means my sir was appreciated by heroes. Our former emperor was brilliant, and was greatly pleased by the letter he wrote, which means my sir’s ability was appreciated by the emperor. Only that he didn’t became an official through the exam. My sir’s poetry and articles stood out and eliminated the recent abominable climate of literature. The later generations hundreds of years later would naturally give him a fair conclusion. And from this perspective, how could we say that he is unrecognised by the society? Mei Kesheng once sent me a letter which says: “Wenchang is my old friend. His illness is more peculiar than his characteristics, his characteristics more peculiar than his poetry, his poetry more peculiar than his calligraphy, his calligraphy more peculiar than his prose, his prose more peculiar than his drawing.” And I would say that nothing of Wenchang is not peculiar, and this peculiarity caused that nothing waiting for him was not hard. How lamentable!

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rieindiegames · 1 year ago

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Q1: Does the Kaimanian Empire have an order of knights?

A: Only those who receive the relevant title from Her Majesty Xenia Kaimana are considered knights. It’s less of an organization and more of a special position in the hierarchy of the imperial army. I am the empress dowager’s single disciple. All others use the title in a performative manner.

Q2: What are the barracks like?

A: Functional. All my time spent without Her Highness is insignificant, thus I only rest, bathe, and dine in the barracks as necessary.

Q3: What does your average day as a knight look like?

A: It differs substantially now compared to my apprenticeship. As the sworn sword of M’lady, I fulfil my duties to her as commanded. I spend my days guarding her, being her confidant, and assisting with her errands or imperial tasks.

Q4: How often do you leave the castle?

A: M’lady cannot go out, so why should I?

Q5: Do you have any friends among the other soldiers?

A: They are my colleagues. I don’t consider any of them friends.

Q6: What’s your relationship with Xenia Kaimana?

A: She is my benefactor as she granted me the position I longed for.

Q7: Can you recite your knight’s oath?

A: I, Ceres Awle, kneeling in fealty, bound by duty, pledge my heart and soul to safeguard my liege, Seina Kaimana. My life’s purpose is now entwined with safeguarding her well-being.

Even should my very existence be the price, I swear to serve with fidelity and honour, unflinching and true. With the blessed Goddess Adelina as my witness, I shall be Seina’s servant and do all she commands. I will stand on the side of what she deems right with no reward nor glory, but faithful service as my recompense. I make this vow as a binding oath, unwavering for all eternity, and impervious to death’s call.

#isekaichosenthrone #ceres awle #ceres

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julian-thirstposting · 6 years ago

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A Wonderful Life AU w Julian as George Bailey: he’s got a bad eye instead of a bad ear, and the plot is he’s trying to keep his clinic open but Lucio is trying to defund it; Asra as Clarence preventing Julian from offing himself when the clinic goes under; also a character from AWL has a canon pet raven; Portia and Julian doing the “Hee-Haw” thing; Julian being so dedicated to the clinic as the plague keeps spreading that he lets Portia go to college before him (fic writers quick go go go)

Not gonna lie, I was completely thrown by seeing this ask in the middle of February. 😂

But that being said, It’s a Wonderful Life is one of my all-time favorite Christmas movies and I fully support this AU.

I ABSOLUTELY HC THAT ZUZU IS FAUST.

If Malak is Jimmy the raven, does that make Barth the Barkeep Uncle Billy? Or would he just be the bartender, Nick? Is MC Mary? Would the courtiers take the place of the mute aide if Lucio is Potter? And if Portia is Harry, does that also mean she’s a decorated Navy pilot who fought for Mazelinka’s fleet? And where would Muriel and Nadia fit in? 🤔

I HAVE MANY QUESTIONS TO WHICH I MUST KNOW THE ANSWERS.

- Mod Knight

ask us anything; Fridays at the Rowdy Raven

#fridays at the rowdy raven #ask #the arcana #julian devorak #portia devorak #count lucio #countess nadia #muriel #asra the magician #arcana courtiers #faust #arcana mc #barth #mazelinka #mod knight #mod sphinx

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malaysiankpopfans · 6 years ago

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[K-PLUS] New Simulcast: Risky Romance

🔷Premieres 23 July 2018, 🔷Every Monday & Tuesday, 9.00pm (MY)

🔷Same Time as Korea

🔷Encore every Sunday (4 episodes back-to-back), 22.30pm (MY)

Risky Romance is a 32-episode romance medical drama starring Ji Hyun-woo (Bad Thief, Good Thief), Lee Si-young (Lookout), Kim Jin-yeop (Queen of Mystery 2) & Yoon Joo-hee (Return). This is the long-awaited reunion of Ji Hyun-woo & Lee Si-young since the 2012 drama “Becoming a Billionaire”.

Ji Hyun-woo will be playing the neurosurgeon (Han Seung-joo) who is incredibly talented and a perfectionist with rough personality. Lee Si-young will play the endocrinologist (Joo In-a) who is obsessed with hormones.

This is the comeback of both leads this year since their work in 2017. Ji Hyun-woo, who has been consistently loved by viewers, has always notched projects one after another owing to his excellent and reliable character portrayals. He is famous for one of the best fantasy time-travel rom-com Queen In Hyun’s Man. He has challenged various genres steadily, which include dramas Angry Mom, The Awl, Wanted and recently, Good Thief Bad Thief. Lee Si-young, the chameleon actress, who last worked on revenge crime drama Lookout, returns to the screen after giving birth to her first child in January.

Viewers can expect a lot of romance in a bright and warm atmosphere. They will also be able to see the different types of charms each of the four characters have and can look forward to a lovable romantic comedy this summer. With its medical premise, viewers can anticipate how the romance for the lead actors will progress, especially since both are well-known for their sound acting performances.

This drama is the collaborative work of director Lee Chang-han (I Need Romance) and writer Kim Nam-hee (Cheese In The Trap).

Character & Cast

Ji Hyun-woo (as Han Seung-joo)

A talented neurosurgeon with an extraordinary memory and a logical approach to things. However, his feisty personality and competitiveness makes him unstoppable when he fixates on something

Lee Si-young (as Joo In-a)

A hormone-obsessed woman who believes that life is controlled entirely by them. With a bright smile and lovable image, Joo In-a has an appearance perfect for being a “human oxytocin” endocrinologist that treats patients with love, friendliness, trust, and commitment.

Kim Jin-yeop (as Cha Jae-hwan)

Son of the hospital director. A neurosurgeon with talent, wealth and looks. A perfect man with looks, abilities and background. Behind his smile, his real face is hidden.

Yoon Joo-hee (as Joo Se-ra)

An ambitious announcer who has the goal of “levelling-up life.” She dresses well and will be unscrupulous to get anything she wants.

Trailer:

ABOUT K-PLUS

K-PLUS the Ultimate Korean Entertainment network bringing together many exclusive and first-run titles in drama series and variety shows, direct from major Korean TV broadcasters to the Asian audience.

Recent same period telecast series include: Strong Woman Do Bong Soon, My Secret Romance, Woman Of Dignity, Single Wife, Hello, My Twenties 2!, The Package, Untouchable, Rain Or Shine, Love On Ice, Evergreen, Rich Man etc. K-PLUS also brings you high-rating variety shows: Chef & My Fridge, Guided Adventure, Weekly Idol, Global Chef Wars, Crime Scene 3, etc. Other popular series include: Cinderella and Four Knights, Signal, My Little Baby, Chief Kim, Ms. Perfect, Oh My Geum-bi etc. More titles will continue to be added to the program line-up in the future.

Risky Romance will premiere on K-PLUS starting 23 July 2018, Monday at 21:00pm SGT, airing Same Time as Korea. New episodes will air weekly on Monday and Tuesday at 21:00pm SGT. English, Mandarin, Bahasa Malaysia and Bahasa Indonesia subtitles are available.

K-PLUS is available on: USEETV IndiHome, Tribe Indonesia, DENSTV, Astro GO, Tribe Philippines, Easy TV.

For more information on K-PLUS, please visit:

Website:

http://kplus-asia.com

Facebook Page:

https://www.facebook.com/kplusnetwork

Or contact Rosanne Lo:

[email protected]

#kdrama #pressrelease #korean drama #korea #korea drama #south korea

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theinvulnerabletide · 7 years ago

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Headcanon meme: (answer for whoever you can think of things for I guess) 1, 8, 11, 12, 23, 26, 29, 30, 34 :3

Okay okay okay. This got long because some of them turned into vignettes, so it’s gonna be under thecut.

1.) Love

Forsomeone who professed to be a loner, Lyra has loved so many people in her life.Her mother, first and brightest and most dearly, murdered on her way back fromher shift at the pub, the Stone Crows, her gang growing up, including her bestfriend Kora, who got scooped off the streets when some passing mage saw her set something on fire with her mind (which now strikes Lyra as ironic, consideringher current travelling companions, and her own predicament).

And then her newfound family,her Magpies. The ones that were murdered so cruelly in front of her.

Love and loss are intertwinedfor Lyra, the brilliance of lightning followed by world-shaking thunder. Whichis why she has, wholeheartedly, decided to stop caring about people. They won’tleave if she doesn’t get attached, and even if they do, well, she won’t feelanything right? Win win.

8.) DreamsIt’s not uncommon for Whisperto dream of water. Even if it wasn’t literally her element,she spent so much of her life surrounded by it; snow and rain pattering on thestone, the underground inlet, the blighted mermaid tank, that it of course itwould enter her dreams at some point.

Tonight though, tonight isdifferent. Tonight she dreams of depths, of an ocean so deep there is nogranulated sunlight to illuminate it, and even her comfort with the dark isn’tenough to make it feel less… crushing. She sees in staticky black and whitehere, feels the way the currents tug insistently at her. She has to remindherself that she can breathe.

There’s movement there, in thedepths. It takes up the whole of her vision. It’s just the suggestion of agreat thing slowly winding and unwinding, pulsing slightly as if with laboredbreath. It does not move against the current. It directs it, and it makes herown breath catch in her throat. Not with fear, but with excitement.

When she wakes, she swears shecan still feel it, the current tugging at her, the great thing directing herforwards. The letter appears the next day, and the day after that, she isgone.

12.) Worst Enemy

According to Az’ar, her worst enemies are the Godsthemselves.

The Gods are arbitrary and cruel things, starting and endinglife as it pleases them, for mere entertainment. They set up laws,contradictory and unforgiving, a universe full of pain and misery, and createdsentient creatures to wade through the mud and experience every bit of it.Growing up in the Shadowfell, Az’ar has witnessed it all, and grew to despisethe traditions of the Shadar’kai, the same traditions that honor Hala by tryingto protect the living things she holds so dear, especially from the unnaturalundead things she abhors, the traditions that pretend to honor Her brother bysending them back to His domain, and by dying well.

She left her people, somethingelse that was forbidden, and fought and killed far too many of them in order tocross over to the Prime Material Plane, the tear she made between worldsallowing a few of those undead monstrosities to cross with her. It was aregrettable loss, ones that she lays again at the feet of the Gods; if herpeople had not been obsessed with their supposed sacred duties, they would nothave needed to die.

Az’ar intends to wrest their claws from her chest, by making itso she can never die, and then, she will end their grip on the rest of thePlanes, even if it means killing them. She hope it does. That would be a sweetirony indeed.

23.) Romance

Orianais a romantic. Probably in the classical movement sense as well as in thehopeless romantic sense. She has this ideal of herself: knight in shiningarmor, a blazing paragon of Wahreight’s mercy and light, beating back thedarkness and protecting the innocent.

She also is kind of obsessedwith romance novels, and novels that we might consider romance novels due tothe way books are sold, but, unlike Whisper, prefers the ones that hold a highideal of love than the vulgar. Which isn’t to say she won’t read books with sexin them, only that she prefers more comedies of manners. Jehanne Augere’s Dignityand Discrimination remains her favorite novel (and she finally got a copyof her own the last time we visited Fantasy Half Price Books), and she’s morelikely to blush at the scene where the elven hero confesses his love for thevery human Elisabet. 26.) Beauty

Thecostume is… well. It’s tight. And barely there. Whisper runs her hands thelength of her torso, fingers skimming cut-outs in the shimmering golden fabricat her sides where her midnight skin provides contrast, and she lets out ashuddering breath. She doesn’t know whether its nerves or awe that’s making herstomach clench uncomfortably but… either way.

She sneaks a peak in themirror and looks away almost immediately. Salt and storm, she is glad hermother will never see her in this, or she’d be dead. Brutally and messily andall over the place.

She sneaks another look, outof the corner of her eye at first, then straight on. The leotard is almostblinding in the way the golden cloth catches the light (Ignatius’ choice, nodoubt), small black stitching and sequins giving the illusion of scales downher stomach. At her hips is this strange, diaphanous half-skirt, more like thefrills of a tiger fish than an actual garment. The neckline—if it can be calledthat— plunges far deeper than anything she’s ever worn, and she mutters a quickprayer that she won’t spill out of this thing at an inopportune moment. Or anopportune one. She is not being paid enough for that.

But the effect… She takes astep back, so she can see the whole effect, the golden ribbons wrapped aroundher horns and pinned in her hair, the ridiculous amount of eyeshadow, thestreaks of gold shimmer on her cheeks, she looks… ethereal. Magical. Shestretches one indigo hand out, and her reflection does the same, lightlymeeting her in the mirror. She watches herself smile.

“It looks beautiful on you,”comes a voice from behind her, wobbling like the owner is about to burst intotears. “You look beautiful, Whisper. Just brilliant…”

She whirls around, a scowlslotting into place. “I can’t believe he wants me to wear this, Terrance!”

The huge man doesn’t seem tohear her, dabbing at his eyes with a handkerchief. “Oh, I outdid myself. Just wait until the audience see you. You’re going to dazzle them.”

Whisper laughs under herbreath, and sneaks another look at herself. Okay. Maybe it’s not so bad afterall.

29.) Bedroom (and 11.) Best Friend).

She wasclose, she was so freaking close! If she could just figure out thethaumodynamic stabilizers and the aetheric channels and how to connect them tothe theurgic couplings, then the armor would definitely be finished beforeschool started. Her tongue peaked out of the corner of her mouth as sheconcentrated, wand on one hand, tweezers in the other, a soldering ironfloating above her, held by her mage hand.

The workbench in front of heris littered with such tools, awl and a few other small sharp blades and hergrindstone, linen thread and an assortment of needles, little colored glass ballsshe’d spent weeks making and enchanting so they wouldn’t break when she used them,and small gems that had cost quite a chunk of the money she made from selling herclockwork toys, not to mention all the other tools she didn’t currently needfor this project. The bed next to her, on the other side, had the rest of thearmor, chest plate and second gauntlet, both nearly finished save for the collectorsthat would collect the untethered thaumic energy from the aether.

She’s so close. She can feelit.

“Celandine!” her mother calledfrom downstairs, “Celandine, your friend is here!”

“What?” she freezes, and thewand released the spell it was holding… at the wrong part of the gauntlet. Andsomething started smoking. “Shit!”“Celandine?”

A quick prestidigitation puts the fire out but it definitely smelt like magic gone wrong and scorched leather.“Oh, hell. Coming Mom!”

”I’m sending her up!”

“Shit!” Celandine cast a lookabout her room. Her chairs were full of clothes and her bed was covered in armorand there was spare leather and clothes and books all over the floor and why hadn’tshe learned the invisible servant spell.

“Hey, Celandine? Your Momsaid—” Caela pauses in the doorway, the top of her head nearly brushing thetop of the doorframe. Her eyes widen as she takes in the state of the room.

“I know! It’s messy I’m sorry.I got uh…” she looks down at the gauntlet and then back up at her best friend,smiling weakly. “I forgot you were coming over. I’m sorry.” She puts the gauntleton the workbench and reaches over the small space to her bed, which at leastonly had the breastplate and the other gauntlet on it. “Sit down and give me asecond, I’ll have this place tidied up in a…”

But Caela is already bendingover, gathering up the nearest books that had fallen over. “It’s okay. I’llhelp. Why don’t you tell me what you were working on?”And Celandine beams.

30.) Sex

Oriana pressesthe pillow harder over her head, trying to block out the sound from the onlyother bed in the room. Since she’d been knighted in the service of Wahreight,she’d been moved out of the general barracks and into a shared room;unfortunately, her roommate decided that that was enough privacy in order tocarry on her… assignations with one of the paladins still in training. And theidea of actually talking to Ritika about it was blighted mortifying, so hereshe lies, pillows piled on her head, face burning as she tried to pretend shewas not hearing what she was hearing.

34.) AffectionIt’s not that Whisper’s family was not affectionate. Sheremembers her father’s hand on her head, her mother’s approving smile. Hugsfrom her brothers, kisses on her forehead from the governess. But compared tothe carnival, her family was as touched-starved as any dwarf.

Affection wasphysical and platonic and above all, free among them, holding hands and huggingfor no reason, kisses on cheeks and foreheads and lips, giant cuddle piles inone of the main tents the afternoon after a big show, all of them just waitingfor the inevitable cry to start packing up.

And the sex. Oh, seaand storms, the sex. There was just so much of it. After the first year she’dgone from having sex once in her entire life to having had more partners thanshe could count, of so many genders, in several different… permutations. Things would just…escalate. Someone would be feeling bad and a cuddle pile or a platonic kisswould turn into make-you-feel-better sex, someone would decide that they wereboard and seek someone out, or two people would be fighting and suddenly they’dbe up against the wall (that happened with Ignatius and a few of the othersmore than she would care to admit), or they’d be coming down off a high of asuccessful heist or a show, adrenaline still singing high gospel within them,and next thing you knew you’d be tearing off someone’s clothes. Maybeseveral someone’s.

But the real world doesn’twork that way. And after a bad experience or two on her way to Hazelscar, she isthoroughly aware of that. Most people don’t like being touched.

She meets Adoraor and Keithiafirst, and she makes sure to keep her hands to herself. Even when Adoraor isbleeding out and she has the stupid idea to stick a knife in his chest to seeif it’ll heal him, because, hey, it worked on that orc, or when Keithia (notThia, not yet) places a hand on her shoulder to press healing magic, warm andtingling, into her skin. Not even when they’re barring the door of a cold stonechamber and waiting out the night, and she knows she could stop them both fromshivering.

She’s almost starving from it,achingly aware of where people are in relation to her at all times. She finallygives in and hugs Keithia about two weeks in. She feels Keithia freeze up for ahalf a second and she closes her eyes, waiting for the rejection, before Keithiasqueezes back, just for a second, before she eases back. Whisper has to forceherself not to cling, to let her new friend go.

Oriana, she learns, hatesbeing touched at all and the boys are weird about it, so she has to make ithigh fives and playful slaps and punches to the arm. She can hug Frank, atleast, he’s not strange about it. Sing-songtoo, until he vanishes.

She nearly cries when it getscold enough that they have to huddle in the Magnificent Bubble (also screw Leomund,she’s the one casting the spell, she’ll call it what she wants), and the Bubbleis just big enough for them. If they huddle. It’s almost like the piles she’sused to, and she plays it off with a few sighs and rolled eyes, but when sheends up cuddled next to Twiggy and Isao of all people, she has to bury her headin her arms, so no one will see her face. It’s almost good enough.

#lyra the half-elven rogue #whisper the tiefling sorceress #oriana the aasimar paladin #az'ar the shadar kai wizard #celandine the gnomish wizard!#sprin'torel campaign #eberron high #whatever the hell this is #ask me anything!#character asks #sometimes kori writes things #islanderscaper

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