#fragment friday

[upennmanuscripts]

Today's #FragmentFriday is fragments of accounts rendered by Guillaume de Salins to Mahaut d'Artois, Countess of Burgundy, from her properties in the County of Burgundy (Franche-Comté). It consists of three gatherings, is incomplete at the beginning and the end, and is badly stained. Fragments of the same accounts are found in three other manuscripts: Paris, Bibl. nat., ms. fr. 8551 and Besançon, Bibl. mun., mss. 914 and 914. (Ms. Codex 93)

🔗:

[whispersleo]

Frisky Fragment Friday

I mean, @dragonagegayz great trend idea, honestly lol.

For this, you just have to (if you want to) post fragments of whatever you're working on—art, writing, gifs, collages, etc. Anything goes! And don’t forget to highlight the part you’re most proud of!

Tagging @woundedsoul12 @flowersforthemachines @nyx-de-riva

Today, I’ll be sharing a video of Illario and Sienna that I��m working on, along with the beginning of a smut fic featuring my new qunari baby, Aren, Illario, and Lucanis (modern Thedas(¿ AU, threesome bUT Spite IS invited too, cousin incest, of course lol).

Hymn To Virgil - Sienna x Illario edit video

How bad do u want me - Rook x Lucanis/Spite x Illario modernAU fic

You're not the guy that cheats and you're afraid that she might leave, 'cause if I get too close, she might scream "How bad, bad do you want me?"

Illario was utterly entertained and more curious than he had ever been in his life. Sitting with his legs crossed, a few glasses of wine in, he found himself tapping his foot with a joy he had never quite experienced before. His sharp blue eyes were fixed on the qunari across the unnecessarily long dining table. Despite the size, they were all gathered in the same corner—his grandmother seated at the head, Illario to her left, Lucanis to her right, and next to him, the stranger currently devouring his third plate of pasta as if it were his first.

The qunari had earth-toned gray skin, a cascade of vibrant red curls, and a matching beard. His horns were long, massive, adorned with gold trinkets and rope decorations. A thick chain hung around his neck. He was tall and impressively muscular, his black t-shirt stretched to its limits as if it might tear at any moment. His jacket had been discarded on the back of his chair, and his dark denim jeans clung to his hips. Chains dangled here and there, complemented by spiked bracelets on his wrists.

At first, Illario had been fixated on his eyes—the black sclera giving way to stunning, vibrant yellow irises. His arms were covered in bold occult tattoos, symbols sprawling across his skin in a striking display. He was like a fluorescent color painted onto a pitch-black canvas.

Caterina had made a face of pure disgust the moment she laid eyes on him, and she had yet to change it.

"So," she spoke, wrinkling her nose as she watched the qunari take another forkful of pasta. The sight alone seemed to push her patience to its breaking point. "Has my grandson taken you in like a stray cat?"

Illario couldn’t hold back his laughter, glancing at Lucanis, whose expression made it clear he was seething at his grandmother’s poor treatment of his boyfriend. But really, what had he expected, dragging this poor bastard into House Dellamorte?

"Caterina—"

"Oh, something like that," the qunari said after swallowing his bite, utterly unfazed by the insult. He took a sip of his wine, though without any exaggerated gestures.

"Oh?" Illario leaned in, curiosity piqued. The way he was looking at this man—Aren, he reminded himself—was probably not appropriate, but he hardly cared.

"Yes, it’s actually a pretty funny story. Long story short, we met outside this absolutely incredible rock concert," Aren grinned, looking at his boyfriend with nothing but warmth and affection. Lucanis returned the gaze, momentarily forgetting about his family. "Luckiest day of my life."

Caterina’s expression twisted into sheer revulsion.

Before disaster could strike, Laila, one of the maids, swiftly approached. Illario regretted not getting to see his grandmother explode—she already had a vein bulging on her forehead.

"Shall I bring out the dessert that Master Lucanis prepared?" she asked, carefully gathering the empty plates with a gentle smile.

"Oh, you made dessert too?" Aren turned to Lucanis, intrigued (Illario wondered if his stomach was some kind of bottomless pit).

Lucanis nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, a chocolate tart. A good friend recommended the recipe," he replied.

Illario took another sip of his wine as soon as he noticed the lovesick smile on his cousin’s face.

"Chocolate? Oh, God, yes, please and thank you." Aren turned to Laila, nodding eagerly. She smiled back, cheeks slightly flushed—clearly not used to someone actually thanking her for doing her job in this house.

Caterina left before the dessert and plates arrived. Lucanis watched her until she disappeared up the stairs.

Aren sighed, noting the look on his boyfriend’s face.

"I don’t think she likes me."

"No. Not at all," Illario confirmed, casually serving himself a slice of cake.

Lucanis shook his head slightly. "Don’t worry about it. I just wanted her to meet you. Thanks for coming… and please, forgive my grandmother," he added, handing Aren a plate.

Aren smiled and pressed a brief but affectionate kiss to Lucanis’ lips—just long enough for Illario’s gaze to linger, dark with interest, before he returned to his food.

"Don’t worry, it’s fine. I’m used to it."

"Used to your in-laws not liking you?" Illario arched a brow.

"Well, I mean… I know how I look." Aren shrugged, then let out a deep, resonant laugh that came straight from his chest—loud and genuine. "At least you like me, don’t you?"

"Mph." Illario made a vague noise, glancing at Lucanis before turning back to the qunari. "Let’s say yes."

"That’s already a win. Lucanis never shuts up about you." Aren shrugged as he took a generous bite of dessert.

His boyfriend’s cheeks turned a noticeable shade of pink.

"Oh? Is that so?" The elder Dellamorte leaned forward, looking even more intrigued than before.

"Illario," Lucanis said, his name a clear warning.

Aren grinned, flashing sharp teeth, and nodded at Illario.

"Yeah. It’s obvious he loves you a lot." He laughed when Lucanis let out an irritated noise. "Anyway. Whatever. Chocolate."

He pulled the cake closer, intent on finishing every last bite.

[dragonagegayz]

Fragment Friday

Literally, I just want to show some work off so I'm just starting this as a trend for me but like others are more than welcome to join :D

So for Fragment Friday I want to see some fragments of the work you've been working on! Be it arts, writing, gifs, collages, etc! Whatever work you got cooking, let us see! (Can be anything!) Also, highlight/color a fragment that you are particularly proud of!

Tag either the number of people equal to the things you shared or stage however many people you want or don't want! I'm not in charge of you, you stick it to the man and do whatever you want

For me personally, I'm going to be showing off some things I've been working on for my Rook Bas De Riva, A piece of the past, the beginning of my IllarioXBas smut and the Rookanis smut I've been working on!

Past

(Suicide Contemplation Mentioned)

I have always hated the rain, the stench of the sea air that permeates through Par Vollen even with us not close to the water, I have always hated the salty air. It becomes dark too, I already cannot see well with the mask I am forced to wear as Sarrebas, the small holes practically blind me which I suppose is what eh Qun wants of one like me. The rain also catches in the little holes, making it even harder to see, the combination of it all leaves me blind. I look up to the clouds, if my mouth weren’t sewn shut I would have yelled to the clouds for being here, for making my life hard, though as I look up I can barely see a light spot in the clouds, the sun. Maybe it will shine si at least I can see again.

“Saarebas!” I hear an angry unforgiving voice that I know all too well. I looked over to where it came from, my ears being trained now to pinpoint the locations of things since I was masked those years ago. I needn’t try to squint to know who it is, I, unfortunately, know who screamed my name. Even from where I stood, unseeing as I was, I could tell he was annoyed, it was in the tone in his authoritarian voice, the hint of displeasure and rasp to it that tipped me off. “What are you doing?! Move it!” He growls out as a threat, as if I have any choice but to obey.

‘I am cursing at the clouds,’ I think with a light frown, were I to do too deep with it, he would catch the lines on my face moving and punishment would come in tow. ‘Does the qun not even allow my own thoughts anymore? Is a tool not entitled to be angry in conditions where they know doing their job will become harder?’ I wish to say, but instead, I do not speak. I simply follow where the voice is speaking, and hear the sounds of his steps move when I am near, I find them in the low crowd from the distinct heaviness to them. He puts much pressure on his heel, and heavy steps with his entire body to emphasize power and dominance. Arvaard do this often, many of them I have come in contact with are power-hungry and play the high and mighty part. They are the keepers of the Sarrebas, those dangerous things, how could they not the proud? It is what the Qun has taught them after all.

We walk in the rain, keeper and tool one behind the other for I can never step in front, they would assume a demon has taken over me were I to ever. I do wonder what they feel as they lead sometimes, but I know better than to let those foolish thoughts wander and become too grand and a man will kill themselves when the ideas in their head are better than the life they are forced to lead. I had seen it happen a few times in the Qun, A Saarebas or two have done such things in front of me. There are times I would feel jealous, if I were not a coward I would do whatever I could to be free. Yet the Qun forbids it, so I do not allow myself those dreams.

Illario X Bas

(This one is in very, very rough early stages places right now lol but I wanted to share this dialogue)

He learned the man’s name was Bas, he was a former Saarebas of the Qun and was adopted into the De Riva household nearly 15 years ago. He was in his late 40s, a talented mage, and rather known to have a bit of a mouth on him, especially when it came to matters of the Qun. He was a bit of a lone wolf and had struggled to find safety and trust amongst the Crows up until recently. Bingo, a perfect time to approach the man to present them working together, on a House Dellamorte contract no less. He was sure of his chances.

So imagine the younger man’s surprise when he finally managed to set up a meeting at Cafe Petra with a grand presentation on this contract out on a Treivso noble who needed killing, with any wink he could ass, any drawl of his words he could get away with only for the qunari to look blankly at him. Illario fidgeted a little under the blank, cold gaze of the older man before a blunt simple answer came.

“No,”

“No?” He had asked back, more out of shock than anything,

“No,” Bas repeated again as if that was all he needed to say.

Illario tried to fight the frown he wanted to make and instead presented what he hoped was a full smile. “Why no?”

There was a brief pause as a look overcame the larger man, one that spoke as if the question was a completely foolish ask. “I am not worthy,” Was what the qunari said.

That… trufully hadn’t been what the man was expecting to hear, he had half expected to hear something about pride, how Crows should figure their own ways and not depend on others, the usually speech he got from older Crows but Bas had defiently challeneged his expectations of these things, as he woudl late do over and over and over again.

And do that was the beginning of their unusual working relationship.

And on this contract, they worked, (after a near week of convincing the qunari that yes, he was worthy and that he would be a help not a hindrance to the contract) nearly meeting every day to discuss their plans which went well into the evenings and even early mornings. Bas listened, he gave his own recommendations, and was receptive to whatever Illario would change to or argue against. It was different from the treatment he got from the other Crwos, especially his family, to be respected and listened to was unusual.

As well as the qunari’s blatant ignorance of Illario’s flirting.

Rookanis

(God I'm so excited to share this one when I finally finish it)

“Read,” Bas demanded through gritted teeth.

There was no fanfare as he ripped down his pants, that big length bobbed out with his juice already leaking from him as it gave an angry wink at her. Instantly as the words came from his mouth, the other Crow’s hands returned to touch those slippery fingers back at his hole and the warm mouth taking in his dick again, slowly this time, only about an inch. Lucanis arched a little as the finger slipped into him but he was sure to keep reading even though his voice shook. The Lady had to touch it, she absolutely had to touch it as she reached down to do that but a quick, fast as lighting of a hand grabbed her leg and pulled it up so her wet cave was angled up towards it, ready to slide in easy. “You think I’d let you have the pleasure of touching my cock? Think again My Lady, this isn’t about you tonight. It’s about me and this big thing fucking you every which way until you’re begging, screaming to cum. Maybe if you’re a good little whore, you’ll get what you want,” A muffled chuckle came from Bas, and while Lucanis did not stop, he threw a glare over the book to his lover but the man considering the way it vibrated against his cock. The finger that had been teasing slipped back into him, another already playing at the rim next to the one snugly pushed in. As he spoke, he was rubbing his length up and down her sloppy hole, passing up where she really wanted it to tease, to make her shake even more. Had this Rogue always been such a bastard of a tease, so cruel and unforgiving as to not give his hot, heavy rod right this minute after all of his teasing? Lucanis felt his face flush even harder as he read the words aloud, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to bask in the feeling he was being overwhelmed with and to try and beat down the embarrassment churning in his stomach. Had this book always been this… cheesy or was the man’s taste in books just not particularly good?

There was a slight pause in Bas’ movements and it was a bit of a scrambled panic to find his place again, desperate not to get the other man to stop.

She tried not to yelp as an unexpected finger came by to tease the rim of her other hole, not slipping in either just pressing down. “Soon I’ll fuck this one too, won’t even give you a choice but to take, take, take what I give. Maybe I could tie you down, lock you in a room so I can use you whenever I want,” There was a bit of stuttering as he read the line. It felt filthy coming from his lips. His breathing picked up, breath hot against the pages of the book. The other finger slipped in, the stretch slowing down as the qunari took his time to let Lucanis get used to the stretch. Arabella looked up at Zade, watching him grunt in concentration as her slick began to drip down onto the bed as she thought ‘Yes gods, please do that. Lock me away for you, only for you to use,’ The First Talon felt more than heard the responding moan he got, those vibrations going through his dick where the qunari had it buried in his throat. His thighs tensed at the feeling and his breathing hitched in his throat for a second but he was quick to fill his lungs and start to read again, though this time his voice was much airier than it had been. But all she could do was moan, hoping her feelings could come across in the downright filthy sounds she found herself making. The way the rogue looked down at her told her she was getting somewhere.

Another finger pressed against his hole and instinctively, the younger man grabbed for the other with one hand, his fingers coming up to wrap and thread themselves around the long strands of his large lover’s hair on his head. He pressed the book against his face as he found himself lost in the sensation of pleasure as Bas began to move on his cock, a slow up and down with his mouth while pressing the large third finger in. Three fingers, especially as large as the mage’s, also took the assassin a moment to adjust to. It was good, that wasn’t the issue but damn if it wasn’t so overwhelming, even now. “Kadan~” A teasing voice broke through the pleasurable haze as Lucais found the warmth around his cock had pulled away, with the fingers nearly following suit. Panic came over him as he scrambled to get his eyes on the page and to keep reading. As soon as the words left his mouth, the fingers sunk back in, the mouth returned to his dock but only to give attention to the weeping head, not that he minded. The following growl he gave did too, as she suddenly found herself entered withthe full force of his girth bearing down into her, not stopping till the tip was buried deep within her, playing with her cervix. right as he spoke those words, a particular cruel thrust came from the fingers buried within him, aimed straight for the bundle of nerves that had him bowing his back. The hand at had wrapped around his leg earlier tightened, a quiet command to control his hips, and the Crow just about managed to settle them back into place, despite the onslaught of pleasure he felt deep inside him.

She was so full, it felt as if her guts were being rearranged with just how close and much he was buried within her, if she were to reach down she knew she would be able to feel the very tip of his cock outlined in his stomach.

The two men shared a moan between the two of them, Bas’ muffled being buried on the First Talon’s cock.

Tag me and use the tag Fragment Friday so I can see our your beautiful words pwease

OMG FORGOT TO AT MY TAGS

So if @adhd-riddled-crow, @whispersleo and @alystrin03 have anything they are wokring on and want to share like I would love to see it but no pressure or anything I just love ur guys things so much <3 (Any you too reader, you should show me ur things too ((NOT LIKE THAT)))

[us3rnam3-r3dact3d]

Fragment Friday!

My sweet friend @romirola tagged me in a fragment chain! Here’s a few paragraphs from the first chapter of my Redacted firefighter AU!! (Which I promise will be posted soon!!) this is from Freelancer’s POV who has recently dropped out of Med school and become an EMT. Enjoy!!

—

Station 10-19 was nice, very nice. A huge locker room, individual shower stalls, full sized beds with pressed white sheets. The kitchen had two ovens, a huge fridge, and the biggest pantry you’d ever seen. The firehouses you’d visited while getting certified were much smaller, much less impressive. All of this must have cost a fortune.

“Shaw’s a master of budget balancing,” Vincent had told you that afternoon during your tour. “I swear, the dude spends hours sitting in his office crunching numbers. It’s honestly a little worrying.”

You’d met David Shaw in your interview, but Sam Collins was your direct report. Shaw was a big dude, but after meeting a few of the other firefighters, you just started considering yourself scrawny. The whole firehouse was full of mutant giants.

Everybody was nice, but Vincent acted like he’d just gained a new best friend when he’d introduced himself that afternoon. He was a tall, slender man with bright gray eyes and a sharp smile. You recognized his last name, Solaire. His dad was the chief of surgery at Daliah General, the only level one trauma center in the area. It was your top pick for your residency.

Solaire wasn’t a common name, but if Vincent was the son of a two time Harper-Avery winner, he didn’t show it. He moved with a cool confidence, and seemed to have that same confidence in you. He spoke to you like you knew what you were doing. Which, to be fair, you did. You just weren’t used to people treating you like it.

“Don’t let Sam’s grumpy attitude fool you,” Vincent grinned as he led you towards the ambulance. “He’s a softy. A bit rough around the edges, but soft for sure.”

You couldn’t imagine Sam Collins being soft, but you smiled and nodded anyway. Vincent showed you where everything was on the bus, and then reiterated the few things that you would likely actually use. The compression machine, the heart monitor, the AMBU bag.

When the first code blared in your ears just as Vincent finished shoving everything back into their assigned cubbies. He grinned and patted you on the back, jumping up to the front and hopping on the radio as he revved the bus’s engine.

Sam made his appearance a few seconds later, hopping into the bus and pointing you towards one of the two passenger seats in the back, strapping himself in. He nodded for you to do the same.

It was quiet for a long time. Vincent called a few things into the radio before shouting back to Sam.

“Single vic, third story apartment. Not sure the extent of the injuries. Landlord just found a blood trail.”

“Let’s prep for a GSW and a laceration.” Sam replied. He grabbed for a few things within reach and threw them into his jump bag. “BleedStop’s over your head, Probie, grab me a few.” He held out his hand. It took you a second to realize he was talking to you. You jerked and reached up blindly, coming back with a few red and white packages.

“Are these standard issue?” You asked softly, flipping one over in your hand. You heard Vincent laughing from up front. Sam grinned.

“You were in medical school?” Sam asked after a few minutes. You nodded. “Internal medicine, peds…”

“Surgical.” You answered his unasked question. You ducked your head, looked away. Sam was quiet for a long moment.

“I was four years into my residency when I called it quits.” He said. When you looked up, he was focused on the computer output, a pinch in his brow. You didn’t dare ask a question, break his concentration, but something in your chest eased.

[cyanbugremix]

✨️Fragment Friday (Saturday)✨️

Tagged by the amazing @romirola!

Here is a little sneakpeek for my fic Welcome to the Pack, Darlin'. Open tag for anyone else that wants join in :)

(For extra context: Darlin' got in a fight)

~ ~ ~ ~

“Hey! Back off, Joseph– I will get the principal out here,” Milo threatened.

Joseph’s face darkened and he used his newly gained height to his advantage, towering over Milo.

“They started it!” He growled back. “They’re lucky I didn’t shift!”

“Joseph,” Asher coldly said, sidling up next to Milo, and resting a hand on Joseph’s shoulder to keep the two apart.

Darlin’ caught their breath and looked up from their spot on the ground. Backpacks had been discarded at some point. They rested a hand across their torso and inched further away. They observed the stand-off, and realized that Asher was almost as tall as Joseph. When had that happened?

“I think the buses are leaving. Don’t want to miss the only way home, right dude?”

Joseph wiped blood from underneath his nose and glanced over at the parking lot. The flow of kids getting on had trickled down to a few still hopping on. He angrily grabbed his backpack and glared at the group before rushing towards his own bus.

Asher huffed out a sigh as soon as Joseph was out of earshot. “Man, what a dick. . . Hey you okay?”

Milo had crouched down next to them and was fully examining their face. Darlin’ looked at the ground, embarrassed at the close proximity.

“Obviously not! Maybe we should take them to my ma,” Milo hastily observed Darlin’. “Their face is swelling.”

“No- shit- It’s fine,” Darlin’ uncomfortably smiled through a beginning ache. “I need to get on the bus.”

They shakily got up from their spot, Milo rising with them. One of them offered their backpack to them, but just as they grabbed it they heard the shriek of the bus doors closing and the whines of the buses leaving the parking lot.

Their eyes widened, as far as they could, and their stomach dropped watching the buses leave. A small wave of nausea, from their injuries and new predicament, made them sit back down in the grass.

Their parents were going to be so pissed.

Darlin’s breath quickened.

They had to make dinner tonight and their daily chores needed to be completed. Sure their parents wouldn’t be home for a few more hours, but what if they didn’t get home soon enough? That would just add to their scolding once they saw Darlin’s face busted up and how they weren’t a perfect kid, and how they worked so hard to give Darlin’ a good life– and that this was the second time within a month that this happened! But the first wasn’t even their fault– and fucking OW! Everything hurts and it’s going to suck doing chores like this–

A gentle hand on their shoulder broke them out of their thoughts. “Dude, c’mon. We don’t have basketball practice tonight, so I’m getting a ride home with Milo. I’m sure Marie would be totally cool with you tagging along as well and able to drop you off at your place.”

“Will she drop me off at my house immediately?” Darlin’ frowned.

“Uhm,” Asher paused and looked at Milo, before shrugging. “We’ll have to ask, won’t we?”

~ ~ ~ ~

Thank you for the tag!! 💖

[alystrin03]

Fragment Friday

Another great idea coming from @dragonagegayz is Fragment Friday!!

So for Fragment Friday I want to see some fragments of the work you've been working on! Be it arts, writing, gifs, collages, etc! Whatever work you got cooking, let us see! (Can be anything!) Also, highlight/color a fragment that you are particularly proud of!

If you like, keep on with the trend! I'll tag @nyx-de-riva @pixiedurango and @becausedragonage

Sooo for my first post I'll share some different works

Everything is SFW this time (only for now!)

Chapter 9 of my main fic, Parliament, a Rookanis retelling of Veilguard

And yet, Illario's dalliance, however ill-intentioned, had reminded her of what it was like to feel desired. The sensation of noticing a look of interest, a touch beyond simple camaraderie, the moment of anticipation just before a kiss. Rook sank her head into a pillow and let out a grunt of despair: thinking about personal pleasures was the exact opposite of what she should be doing at that moment.

And, worst of all, why did Lucanis' opinion matter so much to her? She didn't want to disappoint him, but like everyone else. She didn't want to think of his eyes directing a silent reproach at her, of losing the complicity they were reaching, of his lips tightening in disappointment at her behavior. His lips. Rook remembered them perfectly, how she had stared at them the time he had asked her for help with his beard, the small scars that furrowed them.

She felt her stomach tingle remembering that day. Lucanis' hoarse voice telling Rook that he still remembered her, even though they had seen each other for a few minutes too many years ago, his brown eyes, huge, like a puppy's, staring at her. That day Rook thought her heart was pounding out of her chest, although she managed to continue handling the scissors with a fair amount of dignity, controlling the trembling of her hands. Mierda. It was no longer a knot in her stomach, what Rook had been noticing for a while was the heat emanating from her own body, a feeling of unease she had forgotten. A tingle between her thighs, knowing her own horniness made her insides contract, begin to moisten at the single, stupid memory of those scarred lips, of Lucanis with his back to her, naked from the waist up, with those muscular shoulders and broad back. Fuck, he was fucking attractive, and yet he still managed to behave as if he wasn't aware of it. He had to be, no shit.

No, she could not think of him that way. Rook could not afford to lose control of her emotions, to stop seeing him as just a friend. Because that's what she was to him, of course. Never had she seen him look at her in any other way, any other movement or word out of place, outside of that moment in the Café that, for sure, she had misinterpreted.

Second! A one-shot about Alecto's first contract

It had been several days since she had received the contract. The young Crow knew that, sooner rather than later, she would be called to the office of the Talon to find out what job she was assigned. It was not long in coming: just a couple of days after the initiation ceremony, Alecto was summoned to the presence of the head of her House, who, without wasting time on small talk, handed her a knife with a finely carved ivory handle. She took it in her hands and turned it to examine the meticulous craftsmanship, finally fixing her purple gaze on the Fifth Talon of the Antivan Crows.

“I have a target for you. A real one, that you must hunt, it is necessary for you to show us that you have not completed your training by a fluke” Alecto did not reply, but frowned at those words. She didn't like the suggestion, even offhandedly, that she still didn't deserve the status she had achieved. Nor could she blame them: all her life she had gone to great lengths to hide her abilities, but that chapter of her story was now closed. “Among several options, I think the most suitable for you is the one I've accepted. Personally, you don't strike me as the type who would carry out a job involving seduction, we haven't trained you for that, nor have you shown the slightest interest.”

She nodded her head, as if to express that she understood what he meant. The truth was that Alecto preferred not to receive that kind of jobs: although she could surely accomplish them, the mere idea of establishing a close, even sexual, relationship with any of her victims was something she deeply disliked. If there was one thing she was good at, it was being unnoticed, moving in the shadows and, when the time came, doing whatever was necessary. No words, no implication. Never let them know what happened.

“The client wants us to eliminate a self-proclaimed healer named Manuel Albero. I don't know if the name sounds familiar.” No, she hadn't heard of him. Alecto didn't pay much attention to gossip or rumors, even those that directly affected her. “He has a sort of clinic located halfway between Treviso and the city of Antiva, conveniently close to an area of cliffs. There are some conditions, however. We need absolute discretion, no one can get in or out of there easily, so forget about impersonating someone else. And you must finish him off by leaving the knife I just gave you on his body.”

“Anything else?” Alecto's mouth felt dry, not so much from nervousness but from having had to contain her curiosity in silence for so long. Even with everything, she managed to ask the question in the most respectful way possible.

The Talon waved a hand in denial. “Nothing special. I expect you to get going as soon as possible. You're on your own in this job, Alecto De Riva, I hope you won't let us down.”

And last, but not least, Alfira's cosplay!

Is not DA related, but one of my hobbies is cosplaying. Nowadays I'm working on Alfira from Baldur's Gate 3. The pics show just a VERY rough state: I'm sewing the skirts first, then the corset, shirt, pants... everything else.

Edges are raw and bells are missing, but you can get the idea.

[nights-at-crystarium]

✧✦✧ "Fragments" - episode 56 ✧✦✧

One man's trash is another man's treasure.

New reader? episode list on tumblr | webtoon Read 4 more episodes: patreon | kofi

[eddiestightywhities]

FRIDAY FANFIC FRAGMENTS

okies, i'm posting a bit of my crack treated seriously pov buck (losing all of his shit) ballroom dancer eddie wip for charlie, who made this request last night. i'd already written a couple hundred words on something related, so when i saw the post i just incorporated what i had into a gift to fill their 'prompt'... @playinginthunderstorms it's funny but this isn't the first time you've derailed a fic of mine in the best possible way, is it charlie? adgjkskk

(unedited so be kind! + pray i can finish in time!!)

.

“Show me,” Buck says after finding out about Eddie's never-before-heard-of ballroom dancing exploits from his early teenage years. 

Eddie had been regaling the story of how he gave his folks the proverbial finger and got Christopher back home with him, where the kid belongs (in much more detail, seeing as Buck had already heard the bones of that fateful day over facetime a few months back). Which of course meant all the gory details of the chess tournament and poor Christopher's nerves, which also meant Eddie giving him the lead up to what made Eddie drive out to Lubbock in the first place ergo how ballroomgate was released as public knowledge and Eddie came out as a DanceSport athlete. Or how it came up. Whatever.

Point is, Buck now can't unknow about Eddie's ability to Walz a person to within an inch of their life, or what-the-hell-ever it is that Eddie does. Fairly, Buck supposes, the sly fucker has always said that he's an excellent dancer. But Buck has only ever seen anything close to proof of that claim via Eddie's uncoordinated tequila-fuelled moves to Chappell Roan in a hotel suite full of complete strangers, which—wasn't really any proof at all. No offence, Eddie.

“What?” Eddie smiles a funny little smile but looks confused. Ha! Dude can't be half as confused as Buck. “You want me to… With you? Now?” Eddie's looking at him with this sort of guarded expression that Buck is weirdly finding difficult to read. Weird because Buck can usually pretty much always tell what Eddie is thinking. “You seriously want to ballroom dance with me, here and now, in the living room?” 

The thing is, this.

Tommy and Maddie didn't know shit. They didn't know what the hell they were talking about when they said that Buck was in love with Eddie.

Yes, obviously, everything Buck feels for Eddie is because Buck loves Eddie. Obviously. Like, of course he loves Eddie. The guy is Buck's best friend for chrissakes, and Buck loves him with everything he has, everything that he is. Of course he does. Of course. 

That being said, however, this fact certainly absolutely one hundred percent did not mean that Buck was in love with Eddie. Jeez.

Although, if he's still trying to be fair about it all, Buck loving Eddie may not be the reason for everything he feels for his friend. 

He can explain, alright? 

It goes like this.

Since realising he is into dudes as well as chicks and everybody in between, Buck has maybe started to notice how hot Eddie really is. Or actually that's—okay, no, that's not strictly true. Buck has always known that Edmundo Diaz is hotter than the fucking sun. Like, come on. Eddie's hotness is absurdly obvious to absolutely anyone who can see. Hell, Buck would put bets on even people who can't see still knowing Eddie Diaz is hot shit, seeing as Eddie's hotness is definitely not restricted to merely his looks—even if yes, fine, the guy looks like a Greek god sent down to earth to taunt mere mortals, no point in beating around the bush about this. But, as to not digress, Eddie Diaz is hot in such myriad ways that Buck would easily lose track of them all if he ever tried looking at each and every individual one of them head on.

Competence; check. Bravery; check. Awesome parenting skills; check. Supremely kind-hearted; check. Cute as a button; check. Great at getting salsa verde stains out of your favourite pink cardigan; check. 

Check, check, check. Yada, yada, yada.

You getting it?

He could very easily go on but would probably never stop coming up with new points, and he has a point he's already trying his best to make here.

So, his point, is that before Buck's bisexual awakening, Eddie's hotness was just one of those unchangeable absolute facts of the universe. You know, one of those things you don't ever need to question, like gravity and the earth revolving around the sun and The Beatles being the best band ever.

Buck 4.0, or 5.0, or whatever the hell version he is now, he looks at the universe (men, non-binary individuals) a little differently than those who came before him. He is looking at the universe (men, non-binary individuals) in a way he never has before. Which, right, sure, fine, also isn't strictly a true fact, what with the way Buck has always checked out hot guys et al, it's just that—it's different now he realises what that is. What it means. What it can mean. 

So when Buck is looking at Eddie post-bisexual revelation, it's not just like Eddie is unfathomably hot, it is sometimes things such as Eddie's skin is so gorgeous I could lick it and Eddie's throat is so long and inviting it makes me crazy and Eddie's big hands are so fucking attractive I want them on my body STAT et cetera, et cetera. And yes, he can be big enough to admit to himself that it can get a bit distracting at times, but that's only because of Buck finally allowing these sorts of observations to mean something in his life. Mean something, you know, more.

It's just—it's all very new to him, the whole not-only-going-after-women thing, and can therefore get kind of overwhelming and certainly a little, uh, uncontrollable at times. Like, he's just suddenly so über aware of not only women's bodies, you know? In a more involved way than simply gym rat shit. He can find himself almost staring at times, if he's not careful. Therefore it stands to reason that it is especially difficult when looking at someone as smoking fucking hot as Eddie. And hey, Buck looks at Eddie a lot. He works with the guy! Plus he spends most of his spare time with Eds—or rather he did before Eddie left LA. And Eddie is back now, so. Same problem. 

Except for the fact that his ogling is obviously not something more when it comes to Eddie. Obviously. Because, well, it's Eddie, you know? 

It's Eddie. 

Eddie, who is there for Buck, always, so solid in all of his perfectly flawed brilliance; Eddie, who has a silver star and yet is the goofiest guy Buck knows, forever doing things like pulling kooky faces when he forgets stuff and pretending that raindrops careering down a window pane are racing each other; Eddie, who will get excited for Buck just because Buck is excited over something (usually something Eddie couldn't care less about, because Eddie is just nice like that); Eddie, who is the best father Buck has ever known, despite of and in spite of his mistakes, who unbelievably wants Buck to be a part of his son's world, and trusts Buck with Christopher's precious life to the extent where if Eddie's life were to ever—God, he really can't think about that; Eddie, who is not just the best father but the best man Buck has ever known, the bravest and kindest and most genuine person on the entire fucking planet, and probably the hottest to boot. 

It's just Eddie, you know? Just Eddie. 

It's Eddie.

Eddie.

It's—

Oh. 

Oh fuck.

It's Eddie. 

It's Eddie!

Aaaaand all of that is pretty much how it went when Buck realised (infuriatingly, upsettingly, devastatingly) that the thing was, Tommy and Maddie did know what the hell they were talking about when each of them said they thought Buck—actually, you know what? No. Never happened. Neither of them actually said anything at all about Buck being in love with Eddie. When he thought back to how those conversations had gone, that part was all him. Buck Buckley, filling in all the blanks he now can't ever unblank.

Kind of like the brand new deliciously exciting image of Eddie ballroom dancing which hey, brings this full circle. 

So, there we have it. Turns out that Buck is, in fact, very much in love with Eddie.

Cry 'Havoc!' and let slip the dogs of war… Or whatever Bill Shakespeare had Caesar say in that crazy play Buck had to study at high school. 

And now? 

Now Eddie and Christopher have been back home for just over a week, and Buck is so deliriously happy and so epically sad about it, all at once, all at the same horribly confusing time. 

Because what the fuck is he supposed to do with this?

It's like he keeps telling everyone, including himself; the true thing he is silently screaming, seemingly in vain, into the void and the universe at large...

Eddie is Buck's Very Straight best friend.

Edmundo Diaz is a straight man who Buck has idiotically gone and fallen in love with. Idiotically because 1) Buck hadn't even realised that's what he'd done and 2) EDDIE IS STRAIGHT. 

Cool, huh? 

(That's sarcasm, by the way, just in case some imaginary person did not get that).

Buck being in love with his straight best friend, you will find, is actually the single worst thing to have happened to anyone ever in the history of humanity. 

Buck cannot believe he is this clichéd.

Except for the way that yes, of course he can believe it. Of course he can. This is Evan Buckley and his terrible, no good life, right? So yeah, sure, of course he's in love with Eddie, his Very Straight best friend. Of fucking course he is. 

Fuck you, universe. 

Seriously, there are Reddit-famous posts about guys like him. 

Anyways, that is just one facet of Buck hating on himself for this whole debacle. Another is, that right here, right now, Buck is frankly disgustingly masochistic enough to have just asked Eddie to show him how to fucking ballroom dance in his—Eddie's? Their?—living room.

Like, what the everliving fuck. 

“Yes, Eddie, really,” he's confirming with a smile that ohhhhhhh, is really costing him. “I absolutely want you to show me how to ballroom dance. Like, uh, you know, to—to teach me how, yeah?” is his batshit answer to Eddie's Give Buck An Out In The Form Of A Question, because Buck is plainly some sort of lunatic.

He wonders absently if there is a full moon, and thinks there might be when he has to fight back a blood-curdling howl.

Eddie, though, he simply shrugs, an adorable expression that's giving Robert De Niro adorning his Leading Man features. Then, insanely, he is stepping into Buck's personal space and grabbing one of Buck's hands with one of his own, before he's snaking the other around Buck's waist and pulling Buck's body into his.

Buck very nearly blacks out on the spot.

.

tagging, play or nay: @shealynn88 @sharkfish @novemberhush @greyhavenisback @inell @rosieposiepuddingnpie @sortasirius @angela-feelstoomuch @woodchoc-magnum @kitteneddiediaz @buddiebeginz @watchyourbuck @treasurehuntbuck @daffi-990 @colonoscopys @shitouttabuck @lamardeuse @idealuk @veronae-buddie @isaacthedruid @team-118 @kyoteugly @hotshotsxyz  @raisesomehale @dontcallpanic @dear-massacre @exhuastedpigeon @lookforanewangle @seaweed-water @kyoteugly and anybody else who wants to do the thing!

[fortjester]

harrow the ninth by tamsyn muir — drunk drivers/killer whales by car seat headrest — maya the psychic by gerard way — western nights by ethel cain — sex with a ghost by teddy hyde — we're in love by boygenius

[upennmanuscripts]

For #FragmentFriday this bifolium contains the continuous text of Psalms 44.5-47.15. It was originally part of a psalter probably written and decorated in the diocese of Seville, in southern Spain, in the early 13th century (UPenn Ms. Coll. 591, folder 17)

🔗:

[rainbow-neko-artblog]

My friend @ShaeTheMenace asked me if i wanted to make the Bf for their AU, Fragmented Memories, and i said "say less" and gave them a living booger.

He changes form when it's important, anime style poof.

[wikiangela]

fuck it friday

tagged by @hippolotamus @honestlydarkprincess @housewifebuck @giddyupbuck @spotsandsocks @forthewolves 💖💖💖

here's a little more of the possessive fic, I'm so close to finishing this fic fr, I don't wanna make promises but it might be by the end of this week 👀

prev snippet

___

They’re both silent for a while, as they try to get their breathing under control, Buck’s hands gently caressing Eddie’s back, and, honestly, Eddie could just fall asleep right here, right now. He has to fight himself against it, to not trap Buck on this hard floor. He looks up, leaning his chin against Buck’s chest, and smiles softly, watching Buck’s blissed out face. Then, suddenly, Buck gasps, his eyes widening, and Eddie hears a quiet and horrified:

“Oh god.” his eyes meet Eddie’s. “I can never have your kid sit at this counter again. Or step into this kitchen, actually.” he says, sounding genuinely worried, and a chuckle bubbles out of Eddie.

“Our kid.” he corrects, and sees that awed expression come back on Buck’s face, and his lips shift into a sheepish smile. “And you won’t have to when you move in with us.” he adds without thinking, and Buck’s eyes widen. “I mean, eventually. Whenever we’re ready- I mean, as far as I’m concerned, it can be tomorrow, but- you know, up to you.” he stumbles over his own words, not wanting to go too far too fast, and, shit, he thinks his brain’s not fully functioning yet.

“Yeah. I- yeah.” Buck nods, smile widening, almost blinding. “But we can talk about it later. After we get some sleep.” his hand runs through Eddie’s hair.

“Mhm.” Eddie’s eyelids feel heavy. “I think you’ll have to carry me to bed, though, I can’t move.” he teases, and Buck laughs.

“Of course, baby. Anything you want.” he pauses, just looking at Eddie. “Holy fuck, you’re unbelievable, you know? I imagined a lot, but I never expected… all this.” he shakes his head with a soft smile. “I love you.”

___

No pressure tags: @diazass @elvensorceress @mrevanbuckley @translasso @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @eddiediaztho @jesuisici33 @thewolvesof1998 @911onabc @shortsighted-owl @watchyourbuck @disasterbuckdiaz @wildlife4life @alyxmastershipper @transbuck

[the-adventures-of-lydia-brown]

Fragment no. 1

~Have you ever tried to capture a likeness?~

It is a remarkably difficult task, whatever medium it is done in. You can spill thousands of words or set a thousand strokes on a canvas and still you might not even come close to flawless portrayal.

And if you are one of those lucky few in whom a keen eye for detail unites with a sense for overall composition, in whom a passionate heart unites will a steady hand or with a clear, discerning mind full of sharp and unforgiving wit, in whom years and years of practice honed every skill to needlepoint precision, your true and accurate work will still lie - by omission.

As a certain painter once wrote,

Ceci n'est pas une pipe.(1)

Sometimes, our medium simply doesn't allow us to capture it all - and sometimes, it is our own perception. Have you ever looked at the Moon from the other side?

But at least in these cases the original indubitably exists and is its own perfect image. But what about cases where your subject itself is half mist?

If you aren't careful, you might completely twist what fragile structure it has. Some might pride themselves on such things. "Behold," they say, "I found a seed of a world in my mind this morning, and I immediately set off to work. Before dinner, I added another stunted Yggdrasil to my bonsai garden. Look, most of its branches are even completely solid! I had to twist a bit here and there to make it happen, of course, but look at its perfect, chiseled, eternal form. None of it reaches beyond the limits of comprehension."

Some prefer to work as an archaeologist does, taking away spoonful after spoonful of sand, gently brushing away what remains until they find the form they were seeking.

Some simply collect the things they do not want to fall to namelessness. And some -

Some take the fragile, vague, yet already manifested things, or those that once were and are rotting away, or those that have started and may yet continue and equip them with supports, crutches, scaffolding of all manner that they may not be crushed by their own weight.

It is a fool's errand. None can predict the ends to which their actions might lead.

But that, too, is a part of life.

A butterfly pinned in an entomologist's collection might grant you a better view of its colours and patterns, but that butterfly can not unwittingly cause a hurricane at the other end of the world with a flap of its wings (2). Maybe, the key is to try to preserve both the living, unpredictable and blurry and the still, comprehensible and clear - even though being layered atop each other may not exactly help with comprehensibility. After all, they can always shift into more comfortable positions if you leave them some room for that.

It is difficult work, one that requires commitment, to pull things out of the vague mist of possibility completely - and it might never be finished.

But still...

To keep, to restore, to inscribe upon the air with your voice the name of what you wish to preserve;

To spin and weave threads of thin air and wild fabrication and somehow reveal a little truth (3);

There is some honour to be found in both of these things.

Once upon a time, both were done by singers (4).

Perhaps, that custom never should have stopped.

[lunasilvis]

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times" was actually Dickens talking about the month of september

[nights-at-crystarium]

✧✦✧ "Fragments" - episode 50 ✧✦✧

Frank.

New reader? episode list on tumblr | webtoon Read 4 more episodes: patreon | kofi

[nymphwriter]

Eddie blinked, looking up at Steve as the boy's face tinted red in embarrassed rage. He was upset, of course he was, who wouldn't be. After watching your love be who you wanted for someone else.

"I'm sorry..." But what did Steve's feelings about Billy have to do with him? Why would he apologize for the way another man felt?

"I'm sorry you couldn't make him comfortable enough around you that he felt safe enough to drop his guard. I'm sorry that you couldn't listen to his unfiltered laugh or hear his real voice and see him in a vulnerable light. I'm sorry you couldn't show him how much you supposedly cared in order to see his raw self." Eddie stared into the softer chocolate irises. He watched them fill with tears as they widened in shock.

"However, I will not apologize for gaining his love and trust. I will not apologize for doing what you couldn't."