#disport

[mybuddyjimmy]

Disport

Disport [də-SPORT] Part of speech: verb Origin: Old French, 14th century 1. Enjoy oneself unrestrainedly. 2. Frolic. Examples of disport in a sentence “Let go of your inhibitions and find a way to disport yourself every day.” “Put a smile on your face by watching a video of puppies playing and disporting.”

[girljeremystrong]

"The stars, as if knowing that no one was looking at them, began to disport themselves in the dark sky: now flaring up, now vanishing, now trembling, they were busy whispering something gladsome and mysterious to one another."

Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace

[isabelleneville]

♕ @dailytudors: TUDOR WEEK 2024 ♕

Day Two: Favourite Tudor contemporary quote about or said by the Tudor family. >> 1/1 - ELIZABETH I's TILBURY SPEECH My loving people, We have been persuaded by some that are careful of our safety to take heed how we commit ourselves to armed multitudes, for fear of treachery. But I assure you, I do not desire to live to distrust my faithful and loving people. Let tyrants fear. I have always so behaved myself that, under God, I have placed my chiefest strength and safeguard in the loyal hearts and good-will of my subjects; and therefore I am come amongst you, as you see, at this time, not for my recreation and disport, but being resolved, in the midst and heat of the battle, to live and die amongst you all; to lay down for my God, and for my kingdom, and my people, my honour and my blood, even in the dust. I know I have the body of a weak and feeble woman; but I have the heart and stomach of a king, and of a king of England too, and think foul scorn that Parma or Spain, or any prince of Europe, should dare to invade the borders of my realm: to which rather than any dishonour shall grow by me, I myself will take up arms, I myself will be your general, judge, and rewarder of every one of your virtues in the field. I know already, for your forwardness you have deserved rewards and crowns; and We do assure you on a word of a prince, they shall be duly paid. In the mean time, my lieutenant general shall be in my stead, than whom never prince commanded a more noble or worthy subject; not doubting but by your obedience to my general, by your concord in the camp, and your valour in the field, we shall shortly have a famous victory over these enemies of my God, of my kingdom, and of my people. [Featuring various art, Helen Mirren as Elizabeth in Elizabeth I, Anne-Marie Duff as Elizabeth in The Virgin Queen, Glenda Jackson as Elizabeth in Elizabeth R and Cate Blanchett as Elizabeth in Elizabeth: The Golden Age]

[ardenrosegarden]

With her husband badly wounded and Perceval’s two elder brothers both slain on the very day they were made knights, Perceval’s mother hopes to keep him from the world of knightly combat. The first time he utters the word knight she falls in a faint. Chivalric biography is even less reticent about the realities of knightly warfare. The Chandos Herald, writing the life of the Black Prince late in the fourteenth century, tells his readers how his master’s host behaved between the Seine and the Somme during their invasion: "the English to disport themselves put everything to fire and flame. There they made many a widowed lady and many a poor child orphan". It is helpful to remember that this passage appears in a laudatory life, setting forth the prowess and piety of Edward, the Black Prince, son of Edward III. Nearly two centuries earlier, the biographer of William Marshal, it is true, pictured William, during the burning of Le Mans, helping a woman drag her possessions from her flaming home; William nearly suffocated on the smoke which entered his helmet. But the action was scarcely typical of the times or even of the hero’s life. The biography tells us that the mature William advised Henry II to delude the French king into thinking he had disbanded his army, but then to carry devastation into French territory. Of warfare between Henry II and his sons, the biographer observed that many places in his day still showed the scars of that war. These scars, in other words, had yet to heal after forty years. * * Unvarnished accounts of devastation also appear prominently in the fifteenth-century biography of Don Pero Niño

-Richard W. Kaeuper, Chivalry and Violence in Medieval Europe

[wetgeliscasualinterval]

Disporting with a Shadow (2015) by Paul Clipson

[caenith]

Strongest of limb, and greatest in deeds of prowess, is Tulkas, who is surnamed Poldorea, the Valiant. He is unclothed in his disport, which is much in wrestling; and he rides no steed, for he can outrun all things that go on feet, and he is tireless. His hair and beard are golden, and his flesh ruddy; his weapons are his hands. He recks little of either past or future, and is of small avail as a counsellor, but a hardy friend. He has great love for Fionwe son of Manwe. His wife is Nessa, sister of Orome, who is lissom of limb and fleet of foot, and dances in Valinor upon lawns of never-fading green.

This description of Tulkas is everything to me.

Running around naked? Checked. A great potential for Tulkas/Eonwe ship? Also checked.

[bohemian-nights]

Almost all the reasons Daemyra stans hate Dattles are the same reasons they should hate their own ship.

Similarities between Daemyra and Dattles.

They both have cheating. (Daemon is married to Rhea Royce when he starts to pursue Rhaenyra. Despite this a lot of Daemyra stans like to use the excuse that at that point in time Daemon and Rhea were having “problems.” When Daemon starts to pursue Nettles he is married to Rhaenyra but just like Rhea, he and Rhaenyra are having “problems.”)

They both have an age-gap. (While the age-gap between Daemon and Rhaenyra is less than the age gap between Daemon and Nettles, but we must remember however that when Daemon first meets Nettles she is by Westeros standards an adult, whereas Rhaenyra wasn't.)

Children

Then there are some who say they don’t like Dattles because Daemon had children specifically with Rhaenyra during when all of this was going down. These children being Aegon III and Viserys II. This troubles people because they worry how that would affect Aegon and Viserys's view of what a healthy relationship let alone a marriage should look like.

But the same people neglect the fact that (at least show wise) not only do Daemon and Rhaenyra's actions (Rhaenyra having an affair with Harwin while being married to Laenor, Daemon being at the very least a emotionally unavailable husband to Laena and a neglectful parent to Baela and Rhaena ) but also their marriage (them getting married so quickly after the death of their respective marriage mates and in Rhaenyra’s case also her lover) could have very well given Jace, Luke, Baela and Rhaena an unhealthy view of what a healthy relationship should look like.

Grooming

Rhaenyra and Daemon:

He gave her pearls and silks and books and a jade tiara said once to have belonged to the Empress of Leng, read poems to her, dined with her, hawked with her, sailed with her, entertained her by making mock of the greens at court, the "lickspittles" fawning over Queen Alicent and her children.

Eustace, the less salacious of the two, writes that Prince Daemon seduced his niece the princess and claimed her maidenhood. When the lovers were discovered abed together by Ser Arryk Cargyll of the Kingsguard and brought before the king, Rhaenyra insisted she was in love with her uncle and pleaded with her father for leave to marry him. King Viserys would not hear of it, however, and reminded his daughter that Prince Daemon already had a wife.

"When he looks at you, he sees the little girl you were, not the woman you've become," Daemon told his niece, "but I can teach you how to make him see you as a woman."

He began by giving her kissing lessons, if Mushroom can be believed. From there the prince went on to show his niece how best to touch a man to bring him pleasure, an exercise that sometimes involved Mushroom himself and his alleged enormous member.

Daemon taught the girl to disrobe enticingly, suckled at her teats to make them larger and more sensitive, and flew with her on dragonback to lonely rocks in Blackwater Bay, where they could disport naked all day unobserved, and the princess could practice the art of pleasuring a man with her mouth. At night he would smuggle her from her rooms dressed as a page boy and take her secretly to brothels on the Street of Silk, where the princess could observe men and women in the act of love and learn more of these "womanly arts" from the harlots of King's Landing.

Viserys at first refused to believe a word of it, until Prince Daemon confirmed the tale was true. "Give the girl to me to wife," he purportedly told his brother. "Who else would take her now?" Instead King Viserys sent him into exile, never to return to the Seven Kingdoms on pain of death.

Nettles and Daemon:

Maester Norren writes that "the prince and his bastard girl" supped together every night, broke their fast together every morning, slept in adjoining bedchambers, that the prince "doted upon the brown girl as a man might dote upon his daughter," instructing her in "common courtesies" and how to dress and sit and brush her hair, that he made gifts to her of "an ivory-handled hairbrush, a silvered looking glass, a cloak of rich brown velvet bordered in satin, a pair of riding boots of leather soft as butter." The prince taught the girl to wash, Norren says, and the maidservants who fetched their bath water said he oft shared a tub with her, "soaping her back or washing the dragon stink from her hair, both of them as naked as their namedays.”

To which his brother answered, "It may be we shall be destroyed whatever choice we make. The prince is more than fond of this brown child, and his dragon is close at hand. A wise lord would kill them both, lest the prince burn Maidenpool in his wroth."

All we know is that the maester, a young man of two-and-twenty, found Prince Daemon and the girl Nettles at their supper that night, and showed them the queen's letter.

"Weary after a long day of fruitless flight, they were sharing a simple meal of boiled beef and beets when I entered, talking softly with each other, of what I cannot say. The prince greeted me politely, but as he read I saw the joy go from his eyes, and a sadness descended upon him, like a weight too heavy to be borne. When the girl asked what was in the letter, he said,

'A queen's words, a whore's work.' Then he drew his sword and asked if Lord Mooton's men were waiting outside to take them captive. 'I came alone,' I told him, then foreswore myself, declaring falsely that neither his lordship nor any other man of Maidenpool knew what was written on the parchment. 'Forgive me, My Prince,' I said. 'I have broken my maester's vows.' Prince Daemon sheathed his sword, saying, You are a bad maester, but a good man,' after which he bade me leave them, commanding me to 'speak no word of this to lord nor love until the morrow.’ ”

No word of farewell was spoken betwixt man and maid, but as Sheepstealer beat his leathery brown wings and climbed into the dawn sky, Caraxes raised his head and gave a scream that shattered every window in Jonquil's Tower. High above the town, Nettles turned her dragon toward the Bay of Crabs, and vanished in the morning mists, never to be seen again at court or castle.

That Prince Daemon died as well we cannot doubt. His remains were never found, but there are queer currents in that lake, and hungry fish as well. The singers tell us that the old prince survived the fall and afterward made his way back to the girl Nettles, to spend the remainder of his days at her side.

+Bonus

[As to the girl Nettles, "She is a common thing, with the stink of sorcery upon her," the queen declared. "My prince would ne'er lay with such a low creature. You need only look at her to know she has no drop of dragon's blood in her. It was with spells that she bound a dragon to her, and she has done the same with my lord husband." So long as he was in the girl's thrall, Prince Daemon could not be relied upon, Her Grace went on. Therefore, let a command be sent at once to Maidenpool, but only for the eves of Lord Mooton. "Let him take her at table or abed and strike her head off. Only then shall my prince be freed."]

—Rhaenyra about Nettles.

Conclusion

Personally whether or not someone ships either of these couples is up to them. I however can’t stand a hypocrite, and I’ve noticed that’s what a large percentage of Daemyra stans are especially when it comes not only to Dettles but Nettles as a whole.

And I especially as a black woman, can’t stand the misogynoir that I've seen Team Black (and Green) display when it’s comes specifically to the black/blackish women in House of the Dragon.

This was eloquently put 🙌🏽 I’ve got nothing to add except my praise, I love how you have shouted out Team Green's antics cause they also b!tch and moan about how it makes Daemon a villain(and not all the other crap he’s done) to choose Nettles over his psychotic racist wife.

I too didn’t really care about Dumbnyra, its stans, and its sympathizers until they started going off on a hate campaign against Daemon and Nettles.

Very unserious bunch of racist morons who think they can get away with calling Black/Blackish women the n-word: 

Yes, that was directed at Laena, but it's only a matter of time before Team I don't want Nettles to be on the show, and if she is on the show don't let her be a Negro, goes calling Netty the n-word too for “ruining” their Appalachian mountain realness ship.

Or throwing a temper tantrum because a canon character, who despite their best efforts to ignore her existence or bash her, is all but confirmed to be in the show:

Don’t get me started on Team Green who are populated by white feminists who believe themselves to be morally superior when in reality they are just as racist as Team Dumbnyra or bust when it comes to Nettles and her relationship with Daemon:

(The irony is not lost to me how they point out Rhaenyra’s racism then proceed to treat Nettles like a toddler or sometimes even defend Rhaenyra’s racism because she’s a woman🤪 Black women shouldn’t be in romantic relationships in their minds)

Or those upset because they can’t use Nettles (like how they wanted to because in their mind she’s only there to show how evil Daemon is to their white sister) to dunk on Daemon:

I can't take these people seriously when they complain about Dattles and label it problematic while they ignore their ships problems.

Alysmond(still love you, but I’ll drag some of the white and non-Black fans who are suspect), Rhaicent, Helaemond(aka Hellmanns), and Dumbnyra are all equally if not more problematic than Dattles.

(I have a mini rant on this in my drafts that I’ll post this weekend).

Their anti-Black misogynoir is clouding their views on Daemon and Nettles.

[horizon-verizon]

Jaehaerys I vs Daemon // Braxton Beesbury vs Aemond Targaryen

some time ago, I responded to an ask that said:

I feel like i am in the minority in team black spaces who liked that Aemond lost control of Vhaegar and killed luke because to me this provides a good explanation how Aemond despite having the largest dragon still lose against his 50yr uncle with a much smaller dragon. Because he is that incompetent in controlling a dragon lmao

I want to remind people of something they don't know about older men and young men (both or one being of superior fighting skill) fighting each other in context to Daemon's final battle with Aemond.

Jaehaerys and Braxton Beesbury also fought each other in a trial by combat after Jaehaerys gave him the "choice" between that and mutilating/castrating him, as punishment for "disporting" with Saera at the brothel the Blue Pearl ("Policy, Progeny, & Pain"):

and this was Daemon & Caraxes taking advantage of Aemond's weaknesses, and in particular his lack of an eye. and Caraxes making sure he stays connected to Vhagar so Daemon can do his thing "Rhaenyra Triumphant"):

Ironically, both men stab a young boy through the face, the text specifically using words related to eyesight or eyes: "blind side" vs "visor of his helm"//"laid Blackfyre's point against his eye".

Aemond was 20, Braxton was 19; Jaehaerys, like Daemon, was 49. Jaehaerys beat Braxton by essentially tiring him out and using his rashness of youth against him. Plus his own rage at Braxton "despoiling" Saera. By contrast, Daemon fought to protect all his remaining family members form Aemond and Vhagar being the biggest threat to Rhaenyra (besides Aegon's fewer followers/Larys Strong's manipulations/the KLers' fear).

Yes, in ASoIaF, "old" men & "smaller" or presumably weaker dragons can disable or kill an opponent whose strengths might be their weakness simultaneously.

[afiananvandot]

List I filled with songs I know. The person I got it from said they “got it from pinterest, who got it from tumblr”. dang.

1. A song with a color in the title: “green is not green (yellow) - version” by Pole

2. A song with a number in the title: Sem 3 by Lusine

3. A song that reminds me of summertime: “Surf’s Up!…Nevermind.” by Fever the Ghost

4. A song that reminds me of someone I would rather forget about: Pete Standing Alone by Boards of Canada

5. A song that needs to be played LOUD: Helikopter by Plastikman

6. A song that makes me want to dance: Miles Runs the Voodoo Town by Miles Davis

7. A song to drive to: Augmatic Disport by Autechre

8. A song about drugs or alcohol: I Love Acid by Luke Vibert

9. A song that makes me happy: Catkin and Teasel by µ-ziq

10. A song that makes me sad: Teeth by Kristin Hersch

11. A song that I never get tired of: Moog City (It’s a minecraft song) by C418

12. A song from my preteen years: Plastic Beach by Gorillaz

13. One of my favourite 80s songs: Just an Illusion by Imagination

14. A song that I would love played at my wedding: Squarepusher Theme by Squarepusher

15. A song that is a cover by another artist: Like Someone in Love by Jimmy van Heusen (Cover by Björk)

16. One of my favourite classical songs: Kyrie by Mozart

17. A song that I would sing a duet to in karaoke: Big Time Sensuality by Björk

18. A song from the year I was born: Pferd by Pole

19. A song that makes me feel about life: Enjoy Your Worries, You May Never Have Them Again by The Books

20. A song that has many meanings to me: Everything In Its Right Place by Radiohead

21. A favourite song with a person’s name in the title: Gonna Dig Up Alec Guinness by Lemon Demon

22. A song that moves me forward: You Can’t Go Home Again by DJ Shadow

23. A song that I think everybody should listen to: Chao by Lusine

24. A song by a band I wish were still together: Disco Hospital by Coil

25. A song by an artist no longer living: Stop by J Dilla

26. A song that makes me want to fall in love: Betty by Clark

27. A song that breaks my heart: Ivory by Jack Stauber

28. A song by an artist whose voice I love: Such A Shame by Talk Talk

29. A song that I remember from my childhood: Gangnam Style

30. A song that reminds me of myself: My Sound by Squarepusher

[catalinadearagonsblog]

Elizabeth of York and Katherine of Aragon

In 1501, Queen Elizabeth would help organize the wedding of her eldest son, Prince Arthur, and Katherine of Aragon.On October 2, the Spanish princess at last arrived in England, coming ashore at Plymouth after a stormy voyage. Ladies and officials had been appointed “to give their attendance upon the princess at her landing,” summoned by letters sent by the Queen herself. When Katherine set out on her journey eastward to London, she received a rapturous welcome from the people who flocked to see her on the way. Elizabeth must have been delighted to hear that her son’s bride was pretty and golden-haired, with a pleasing dignity. Preparations for the coming wedding advanced briskly. 

On November 12, as all the bells of London rang out, banners fluttered from windows, crowds packed the streets, music sounded from every side, and the conduits ran with free wine, Katherine made her formal entry into the City. She was greeted by a series of lavish pageants in the Burgundian style as she passed along the processional route; all were designed to underline the success of the Tudor dynasty in obtaining such a highborn princess for the heir to the throne. The King, the Queen, Prince Arthur, Lady Margaret Beaufort and many other notables watched the procession from the windows of the home of a haberdasher in Cornhill. It was from her window that Elizabeth glimpsed her new daughter-in-law for the first time, as Katherine’s procession passed below; looking out, she would have seen a young girl riding “a great mule richly trapped after the manner of Spain,” flanked by Prince Henry and the papal legate, and wearing “rich apparel” in the Spanish mode: 

“a little hat fashioned like a cardinal’s hat of pretty braid with a lace of gold to stay it, her hair hanging down about her shoulders, which is fair auburn, and a coif between her head and her hat of a carnation color.”

Arthur and Katherine were married on November 14 at Old St.Paul’s Cathedral in London. Katherine was now second lady in the land after the Queen. Afterward the Prince and Princess of Wales were conducted in a grand procession led by Prince Henry to the Bishop’s Palace, where a great feast was prepared.The previous afternoon and evening Katherine had been spent at the recently rebuilt royal residence of Baynard’s Castle, on the riverside, getting to know her mother-in-law. During her audience, Katherine and Elizabeth both spoke in Latin.They enjoyed themselves with pleasant and goodly communication, dancing and disports. Already Elizabeth had begun the process of preparing her successor for the role she would one day occupy, and probably Katherine was glad to have the guidance of a kindly mother-in-law who could initiate her into realities and mysteries of English court life. After the wedding, Elizabeth and Katherine shared days of celebrations with tournaments, disguisings and pageants.

The plan therefore was for Katherine to remain in London, under the tutelage of her mother-in-law (not forgetting her dominating grandmother-in-law), while Arthur was to be allowed to continue his growing-up undisturbed by the distractions of a wife, in the Marches of Wales at Ludlow Castle. But this plan was not carried out. Instead, Katherine and Arthur left together for Ludlow on December 21. Less than five months after their wedding, at the end of March 1502, Arthur and Katherine both fell ill. It took several weeks for her to recover from her illness. However, Arthur died on 2 April at the age of fifteen. He was buried in Worcester Cathedral. The news of Arthur’s death caused Henry VII to break down in grief, as much in fear for his dynasty as mourning for his son. Elizabeth comforted him, telling him that he was the only child of his mother but had survived to become King, that God had left him with a son and two daughters, and that they were both young enough to have more children.

In addition to Elizabeth’s other burdens, she was concerned for her daughter-in-law, and seems to have felt—as the Spanish sovereigns would when they heard the news of Arthur’s death— that Katherine of Aragon “must be removed without loss of time from the unhealthy place where she is now.” To this end   Queen Elizabeth had sent an escort to bring the bereft and isolated young widow back to London, as soon as she was well enough to travel, and herself provided a black velvet litter, with valances and fringes also of black made by her own tailor, to convey her convalescent daughter-in-law. In this mournful equipage Katherine was brought to Richmond Palace. When she reached Richmond, she was conducted at once to the Queen, with whom she shared a mutual sorrow.  After a short stay with the King and Queen, Katherine was given the choice of two residences: Durham House, the Bishop of Durham’s palace on London’s Strand, and Croydon Palace, the Archbishop of Canterbury’s residence in Surrey. Katherine chose Croydon and, by 4 May, was lodging there.  

Late in May, Elizabeth of York sent Edward Calvert, her page, to Croydon, possibly to check on the Princess’s health, and perhaps discreetly to ask her servants if there were signs of any pregnancy. During the months Katherine stayed at Croydon, her future remained under discussion and her stay must have been shadowed by sorrow and anxiety. If Katherine had conceived a child by Arthur, the baby would be the new heir to the English throne and her union with Prince Henry would contravene canon law. Doña Elvira, her duenna, was adamant that the marriage had not even been consummated and wrote to Queen Isabel insisting that the Princess remained a virgin. Katherine was not pregnant with Arthur’s child. With her future still uncertain, Katherine has moved to Durham House.

In September Elizabeth sent Katherine books. In October sixteen oarsmen rowed her barge to the Durham House steps.They took Katherine the short distance to the Court of Westminster, where she seems to have stayed several weeks.The kindness offered by Elizabeth of York dried up abruptly ten months after Arthur’s death.The Queen had immediately got pregnant.The baby was a girl named Katherine, who died shortly after her birth. Succumbing to a post partum infection, Elizabeth died nine days later. It was her 37th birthday. Protocol suggests it is unlikely that Katherine attended the solemn funeral, where Elizabeth’s full-length effigy lay upon a coffin draped with black velvet and topped by a white gold cross. With Elizabeth’s death Katherine would have lost an ally, an alternative mother figure, and witnessed the effects of grief upon the king and his son Henry. Now the whole court was in mourning again.  

Sources:

Elizabeth of York: A Tudor Queen and Her World by Alison Weir

The Six Wives of Henry VIII by Antonia Fraser

Catherine of Aragon: Henry’s Spanish Queen by Giles Tremlett

The Six Wives and Many Mistresses of Henry VIII: The Women’s Stories by Amy Licence

[skxrbrand]

It’s only been a few days...yet the potent Slaaneshi corruption of this place seeps into his very bones. Skarbrand is...well, he can’t quite describe. It’s a new feeling. All he knows is his rage is far away and even glimpses of his brother, Kha’xanzyr, only makes him irritated at best. Sleep clings to him and all pleasurable emotions linger long past their welcome.

He’s outside, where the refresh air provides at least some remit from the fumes a. His lesser legions aren’t fairing much better; Bloodletters curled up like housecats, mortals disporting themselves with N’kari’s handmaidens. Where he lurks in the tangled gardens, the Reaper is already figuring where else he might go. Or if the desert is salvageable.

[poemoftheday]

Poem of the Day 1 November 2024

The World below the Brine BY Whitman, Walt (1819 - 1892)

The world below the brine,

Forests at the bottom of the sea, the branches and leaves,

Sea-lettuce, vast lichens, strange flowers and seeds, the thick tangle openings, and pink turf,

Different colors, pale gray and green, purple, white, and gold, the play of light through the water,

Dumb swimmers there among the rocks, coral, gluten, grass, rushes, and the aliment of the swimmers,

Sluggish existences grazing there suspended, or slowly crawling close to the bottom,

The sperm-whale at the surface blowing air and spray, or disporting with his flukes,

The leaden-eyed shark, the walrus, the turtle, the hairy sea-leopard, and the sting-ray,

Passions there, wars, pursuits, tribes, sight in those ocean-depths, breathing that thick-breathing air, as so many do,

The change thence to the sight here, and to the subtle air breathed by beings like us who walk this sphere,

The change onward from ours to that of beings who walk other spheres.

[weirdthoughtsandideas]

Sometimes I love swedish songs for kids from the 70s. They are often so straight-forward, not that filtered. Much "it is how it is" vibed.

An example of this is "The song about Kalle".

It sounds very happy go-lucky. This is the lyrics, translated:

Kalle was born 3 o'clock Angry life a wolf Had come out slantwise Bald head, grumpy and mad

The first years he mostly screamed Sucked the pacifier like a fool Crawled around and puffed And played he was a train

Then he came to school He said everything wrong Wrote backwards in the books But learned quite a bit

And when he played football And disported like you do He was suddenly 20 years old And a done engineer

Then he got two rooms and kitchen With view to a yard A girl he got And a used ford

And then they got three little kids Who screamed both day and night Then he bought his own house And the wife, she bought a hat

And Kalle worked and struggled He bought a car in model sport And the children grew up And played wars and built forts

Then he become old, grumpy and mad Bald head like a wolf One day he died And thought that was just as good!

[komikoma]

Faruzan: Do you want to disport in this card game? Youngsters love it! And look! It's you! In card form!

Wanderer: Why would I want to play a children's card game? It's beneath me.

Faruzan: True, it's not for the weak-minded. I suppose continuously losing against me can't be very fun...

Wanderer: So that's your game? Taunt me so I play? Fine then, I'll knock you down a peg or two.

Faruzan: Yay!

[edwinspaynes]

A Combination of Shock and Awe - A Matthew Fairchild Fanfic

You can read this fic on Ao3! I'm just posting it here because it's short. And also because it's a Festive Halloween Fic and my blog should have Festive Halloween Content.

-

1899

Matthew thought that becoming parabatai with Jamie was an astounding development for a multitude of reasons. He was never in want of a training partner; he was never left to fend for himself when it came for book recommendations. He always had someone to decamp and disport himself with, someone who he could try new fashions out on so he himself did not need to fear looking ridiculous or unstylish.

But another peculiar thing about preparing for his parabatai vows was Matthew’s newfound proximity to James’s family. He had always liked them, Aunt Tessa and Uncle Will. Uncle Will was especially amusing, and Matthew enjoyed nothing better than amusement.

Which is why, when the calendar read 31 October, Matthew determined that he would dress himself up as someone who completely lacked charm or wit or anything else that made life worthwhile: his noxious nob of a brother, Charles Buford Fairchild.

Granted, it was unkind of Matthew to steal Charles’s clothes in an attempt to mock his horrid dress sense. Still, because Matthew would never wear something so drab himself, he was forced to scrape through the stuffy, pretentious, colourless nonsense that was Charles Buford’s dismal wardrobe. He unearthed a suit that was entirely too big for him; sensible, he supposed, considering that his brother was nearing his twenty-first birthday while Matthew himself was a mere thirteen.

Age, he knew, did not cause a person to develop good taste.

Putting on the dark green and speckled grey abomination was like nails on a blackboard. But Matthew persisted. Commitment to the bit was important, he knew, and he did not like to do things by halves.

So when he looked in the mirror, he was pleased to note that he shuddered dramatically. He then strode over to his closet and pulled out his coup de grace: a low-quality red wig that he had obtained from an odd faerie woman selling hideously ugly apparel in Westminster. It was slightly uneven on his head; he suspected that it was made for an adult, which made it sag awkwardly on his face.

Matthew steeled his expression into seriousness. “I am quite important,” he said in what he believed to be a passable impression of his worm of a brother. “I am to be the Consul one day.”

Satisfied, he emerged from the room to head over to the Institute; Jamie would be waiting, dressed as someone from such-and-such Greek mythology. Matthew thought this was mostly an excuse for him to dress up in rags, or perhaps a burlap sack. He wished to throttle his parabatai to-be for his lack of taste, but alas, whither he diest, Matthew would also die.

Yes, he would-

“What,” said a disapproving voice behind him, “are you doing?”

Matthew turned to meet Charles’ narrowed green eyes. He laughed brightly; Charles could look immensely sour when he wished to. “I am headed off to the Institute to wreak havoc and cause mayhem. Would you like me to bring you back a souvenir of some kind? Perhaps faerie drugs? May lighten you up a bit.” He paused as Charles’s face turned quite a bright shade of red. “Do you remember what it was like to smile, Charles?”

“Those are my clothes,” Charles said, not answering.

“Unfortunately,” Matthew agreed. “No accounting for taste.”

“What is with…” Charles made a vague gesture about his head.

“A wig. Angel, Charles, I thought that even you might recognize that.”

“You have dressed as me as some silly prank,” he said. “Are you ever going to grow up, Matthew?” He shook his head. “Angel, I will never understand your ridiculous nonsense. Take it off.”

“You wish for me to disrobe? We’re brothers. That ought to be one of the few limits on my charm.” Matthew raised his eyebrows.

Charles flared his nostrils.

“Oh. I nearly forgot,” Matthew said. He walked up to Charles and clapped him on the shoulder. “I did not draw freckles.”

“What?”

“I said that I did not-”

“I will be coming with you to the Institute,” Charles said angrily, swatting Matthew’s hand away. “Just because Mother and Father are out of town does not mean that I need to contend with this… this grave insult-”

Matthew laughed cheerfully. “Alright,” he said fearlessly. “Lead the way.”

-

As Matthew often thought, Uncle Will was a truly amusing person.

He sat across from Matthew now, dressed as Frankenstein’s monster. His feet were kicked up onto his desk, and his position as the head of the Institute felt a sharp contrast from the devilish smile on his green-painted face. His eyes darted between Matthew and Charles, and Matthew did his best to mirror Charles’s precise expressions. He supposed he was likely succeeding; Will’s blue eyes were shining brightly in amusement.

“So,” he said. “Charles. You appear to have a complaint. Do tell.”

“Yes.” Charles’s voice was businesslike, detached. “I demand that Matthew remove my clothes and cease impersonating me at once.”

“Hm,” Will nodded. “Why do you wish for him to do that?”

Charles blanched. “Obviously because of how foolish it is.”

“I see,” Will responded calmly. “Much like Newton once said, I understand the gravity of the situation.’ Speaking of, would you like a caramel apple? Tessa did not let me put bits of chocolate onto the surface – I do so wish my wife’s perfection extended to her tastes. But alas, one cannot have everything, and as she has dressed up as Elizabeth Frankenstein to accommodate my whims…” Will shrugged.

Matthew laughed; Charles blinked, clearly baffled.

For his part, though, Will continued. “In any case, though, I do wish to hear Matthew’s perspective on the matter at hand. Matthew, why are you wearing that ghastly wig?”

“It is ghastly,” Matthew said somberly. “Thank you for noticing. It’s quite simple, really – I needed a costume that would leave a combination of shock and awe in its wake, which posed a challenge as I am routinely shocking and awe-inspiring.” Will nodded approvingly as Matthew continued. “This seemed an entertaining concept, and I do believe that Charles needs someone to poke at his lack of humor periodically.”

“Are you honestly listening to this? William-”

Will held up a hand, silencing Charles. “I do believe I have heard both sides of the argument,” Will said. “I must take all angles into consideration without bias. Having said that, though, I have made my decision.”

“I am a busy man,” Charles bit out. “I am to be the next Consul, and I am far too old for this childish nonsense. This was a lot of work just to make you take off a horrible costume.”

“So you admit that it’s horrible?” Matthew smiled like a cherub.

“Now, now,” Will interjected. “I have a proposed solution to the problem. Charles, you are angry that Matthew has dressed up as you; you wish for him to remove the costume. Matthew, you wish to continue to dress up as Charles.” His eyes darted between both brothers. “Do I correctly understand the situation?”

“Yes,” Matthew said happily. Charles hissed the same “yes” angrily; Matthew thought that he should learn to take a jest. After all, as his personal hero once said, life was too important to be taken seriously.

“Alright,” Will said. “It seems that the only fair course of action, then, would be for Charles to dress up as Matthew in turn.”

“What?” Charles hissed.

Matthew cackled. “Oh, I quite like that solution, Uncle Will. I think you ought to mandate it. A decree, as head of the London Institute.”

“This is an outrage.” Charles’s voice was dangerous.

“I fail to see the issue,” Will said, his calm tone laced with lazy amusement. “So your brother is mocking you, Charles. Fight back! Put on something bright, possibly pink-”

“Pink is a very stylish color,” Matthew agreed. “Especially paisley print. Scarves-”

“You are both terrible,” Charles said, his face puce. He stomped out of the room like a very bad actor in a very bad play, and Matthew clapped fittingly before turning back to Will.

“Well,” Will said. “That was truly something. Do you truly intend to wear that all day?”

“Yes,” Matthew informed him. “Do you dislike it?”

“Not at all. It’s a fine impression.” Will reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a blue taffy. “Here – you dressed up. It would be poor form to allow you to leave without a treat in exchange for your clearly painstaking efforts.” Matthew popped the taffy in his mouth as Will continued, grinning. “No do get out of my office, Matthew. And call your Aunt Tessa in, would you? I wish to attempt to scare her again with my face paint – perhaps this time I can make her truly jump.”

[sugarangelz]

°You can call me Miss Pastry/Marshi!°

🍦. She/Her.

💕. 21yrs.

🍦. Dni; minors, transphobic/homophobic, problematic, etc, etc.

°What I Write°;......

🍦. Male-Centric Only.

💕. Male/Male,Dom Female/Male, Futa/Male¬¬Pairings Only.

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🍦. Prefer writing on softer notes¬¬[ex.full tummy comfort/No severe sickness/torture/overall mutual loving and consensual characters, detailed stories.]

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💕.Kinks&Likes¬¬Mpreg,Stuffing--Hiccups, Auralism[tummy & swallowing noises in general], reversing/defying gender roles[femdaddy or male being referred to as mommy, etc.],Oral Vore[soft & safe] 

- Big Pecs, Big disportional bellies/Small starter bellies, Taut full bellies are fine but I prefer soft still somewhat fleshy tummies, body worship, drables, shy feeder x dom feedee.

- I write smut & fluff, third pov & second pov only, I write at least 5k words per story.💕💕💕

🍦.Dislikes & No,No's¬¬Scat,most bodily fluids,Hardcore in general,Blobs/slobs, No Rp, Furry characters. No age in bio or not customize = Blocked🚫, any fed character that looks underage or is underage.!!Kink Blog, dni if you are not a kink blog!!