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tenthgrove · 4 years ago

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500 Followers Celebration!!!: Part 1 (La Squadra Backstories)

Hey! Thank you so much for 500 amazing followers! Every single one of you mean so much to me!

Part 1 of this celebration is, as the title suggests, my headcanon backstory for each of La Squadra. As some of you know I was at some point in the process of writing a full multi-chapter fic on this, but since that unfortunately never came to fruition beyond the first couple chapters, here is a shortened version of the stories that were originally planned.

Part 2 is going to be a little something I wrote a while back but never felt brave enough to send to more than a few people. That will be seeing the light of day soon. ;)

Risotto

Risotto Dante Nero was born in a small, poor farming village in Sicily, somewhere in the vicinity of Catania. His parents were a young, dysfunctional couple who weren't ready for a kid in the first place. Seeing their newborn son had 'evil' eyes was the last nail in the coffin for them, and they gave the baby up to his paternal grandmother when he was only days old.

Despite being shunned by his family over the aesthetic defect, Risotto was able to form a close bond with his older cousin, Domenico, who would eventually move in with him and his grandmother after being disowned by the family himself. Domenico helped Risotto find friends, and was the main reason why the next few years were the happiest in the young boys life.

Unfortunately, Domenico was struck and killed at age just 19 by a drunk driver, a millionaire from Milan who on top of his intoxication, was driving incredibly fast. Risotto never recovered from the grief; his personality was altered drastically and he eventually dropped out of school. His grandmother indulged him in his revenge fantasies, believing that he would never seriously carry them out. This proved the biggest mistake of her life.

At age 18 Risotto left home to hunt down Domenico's killer. Despite the years of preparation he was in way over his head and was eventually forced to make a deal with Passione for the resources he would need to break into the mansion and not get caught. But the newly initiated mafioso found that revenge did nothing for his grief. Now, he simply had nothing to work for.

Risotto fell into a deep depression for the next two years, doing his duties as a low-ranking soldato for Passione but feeling utterly empty inside. It became so dire that after becoming injured in a fight with a stand user, he welcomed what looked to be his impending death.

But Risotto did not die that day, being saved by an associate of the gang and rushed to hospital. After hearing word that Risotto had defeated a stand user, Prosciutto became interested and approached Risotto for help with a hit he had been assigned to. Risotto agreed and Prosciutto developed a liking for the young man. A few months later, when Prosciutto was tasked with forming a specialised squad for assassination, he remembered Risotto and requested he become the team’s captain. Risotto was put through at once for receiving a stand, and was seated at the head of the brand new La Squadra di Esecuzione.

Prosciutto

Maiale Crepuscolo was born the daughter of a powerful Don in Naples, and his much neglected wife. Raised in luxury, he came to resent his callous father, especially when the man continued to behave adulterously despite his wife’s failing health. The death of Mrs Crepuscolo was a huge blow to her 16 year old son. It was around this time that Maiale discovered his male identity and chose a new name for himself: Prosciutto.

Mere months after the death of his wife, Don Crepuscolo married his pregnant mistress, a young woman by the name of Loreta. Despite the circumstances, Prosciutto and Loreta got on very well together, and the young man confided in her about his transgender identity, to be met with her full support. Any faith that Prosciutto may have had in his father before was immediately lost when Loreta was thrown out onto the streets by her new husband, along with their infant son Pesci. His sole reason for doing this was that he had become tired of her, and the baby's crying.

Without his father’s knowing, Prosciutto continued to wire Loreta and Pesci money through his hefty allowance, and counted down the days until he could graduate highschool and become eligible for his mother’s inheritance. The very day he gained access to it, he cut his father off for good.

The next few years of Prosciutto’s life were the best. He went to a prestigious university to study politics and afterwards found work as a journalist. With his father no longer an issue, he medically transitioned and upped the money he was giving to his half-brother and former step-mother. Everything was going perfectly.

At age 24, Prosciutto received a visit by members of Passione, who informed him they had annexed his father’s gang and killed him. As much as Prosciutto insisted they had been estranged for years, the men maintained that Prosciutto was still considered a threat, and could only be allowed to live if he joined the gang. Worse, they threatened him with Pesci’s life. Prosciutto knew he had no choice.

Over the next few years, Prosciutto worked his way up. By age 27 he was granted the privilege to develop a stand, and was quickly pushed into the assassination business as a result of its deadly power. At that time, Passione had no designated assassination team, and individuals ordered to carry out hits had to go running around for volunteers if they needed help on a mission. This is why Prosciutto had sought out Risotto.

When the order to form a hitman squad was given, Prosciutto was initially primed to become the captain. However, he was strongly against taking this role, as Loreta was starting to show signs of chronic illness and Prosciutto wanted to make sure he could still take care of Pesci if it became necessary. Tasked with finding an alternative, Prosciutto initially approached his old friends Sorbet and Gelato, who had been part of the squad sent to confront him after the death of his father and had kept in touch out of pity. The pair were cleared to join the team, but were not trusted by the team’s superiors to become captain. And so, Prosciutto turned once more to Risotto.

Sorbet and Gelato

Sorbet and Gelato could not have been born in more different circumstances, the former in absolute poverty, and the latter in comparative privilege.

Sorbet’s mother was by no means a bad woman. It was just the case that through her crippling addictions and mental illnesses, she was in no means equipped to care for her 6 children, forcing Sorbet, the eldest, to pick up the slack. Though he loved his siblings the young Sorbet resented this role and was easily tempted by a street gang at age 12, who offered him escape from his miserable life through drug peddling. Sorbet began to drift from his family more and more. He soon disappeared from school, and became completely estranged from his mother and siblings.

By age 17 Sorbet had developed a reputation in the gang for ruthlessness, and was approached by its leader to carry out a number of assassinations. He soon became the group’s designated hitman, and was paid generously for the role. He was still however, functionally homeless.

Gelato was born to an upper-middle class family in Minsk, Russia. The youngest of four boys, his parents had been hoping for a girl, and their resentment only grew when it became clear the young Gelato was both autistic and ADHD. He suffered from extreme emotional neglect.

When Gelato was 13, the family moved back to Italy where his mother was from. Though he preferred it here, the problems with his family continued and Gelato was eventually kicked out at just 17 years old.

Following the word of a friend, Gelato made his way to Naples and found work running an illegal bar for a street gang in exchange for a room to sleep in. The same gang, incidentally, that Sorbet was working for. The two first exchanged words when Gelato found Sorbet beating up a patron who had been abusive to him, and decided to join in. Within weeks, they were lovers.

One night, while Sorbet and Gelato were asleep upstairs, the police raided the bar. In a panic, Gelato shot two, and Sorbet took out a third. The fourth got away. Knowing they would be hunted, the pair begged refuge from their gang but were denied. They were not a powerful enough syndicate to deal with something of this size. And so, with only each other, Sorbet and Gelato fled Italy.

They were on the run for two years, passing through just about every country in Europe at least once. As a means of surviving, they took on assassination contracts from local gangs and became very skilled, but of course this only turned up the heat to catch them. Eventually, it got too much, and in a final desperate bid to avoid capture, the pair went back to Italy to plead their gang to reconsider.

What they found now in charge of Naples was not their gang, but Passione. A capo by the name of Pericolo listened to their story, and agreed eagerly to dissuade the police from pursuing them in exchange for their loyalty to the new gang. Sorbet and Gelato agreed at once, and developed stands soon after.

Formaggio

A Naples Boy through and through, Formaggio was born in the central city to a large, loving family. Owing to their poverty, all the aunts, grandparents and cousins lived in one house. Although many were part of the mafia, it was always stressed to the children they were under no obligation to choose such a life. Nonetheless, many of them still did.

One night, Formaggio’s eldest brother Miguel sneaked off from the house, telling nobody but Formaggio. His goal was to seek initiation into Passione. The young Formaggio pleaded to come as well, but was told he was not ready yet. Miguel returned a couple of hours later, carrying a metal arrowhead. He told his brother that something unexpected had happened, and he needed to go now, but it was vital Formaggio told nobody of this meeting. He promised it would all be worth it in the end.

Years passed, and Miguel did not return. Then one day- a hastily-written letter, addressed solely to Formaggio. In his final message, Miguel apologised for the absence and announced that he did not expect to survive the next few hours. However, if Formaggio wanted the answers to all that had transpired, all he needed to do was recover the arrowhead that he had last seen Miguel with all those years ago. Most likely, it would have been returned to where he found it, address enclosed. Saddened and eager to understand what had happened to his brother, Formaggio followed the instructions and broke into a heavily guarded warehouse. He found the arrow, just as Miguel had said, but failed to understand how this could solve his problems.

Formaggio looked for a way out of the warehouse, and was suddenly set upon by the guards. He ran for the exit and tripped, impaling himself on the arrow. Little Feet came forth at once, stunning the guards. Not wanting to deal with whatever that was, they called in Risotto and his newly built execution squad, based nearby, to deal with it.

Fortunately, the assassins’ skills were not needed. In spite of the circumstances Formaggio met the assassins with charm and cooperation. Risotto phoned his superiors to see if killing the man was really necessary, and they agreed it wasn’t, provided Formaggio became Risotto’s business. An agreement was reached, and Formaggio was inducted into the hitman squad. It would take two more members for Formaggio to piece together what had happened to his brother.

Ghiaccio

Ghiaccio was dealt an awful hand in life. Poor, and with parents that hated him, he had little respite as a child. He was autistic, but never diagnosed, and had visual impairments that were never addressed. His fondest memory was of a bizarre couple he met as a child, a dark-haired, dour man and his blond lover, who kept him company after his mother walked away from him in anger at a shopping mall. She came back, unfortunately.

When Ghiaccio was 15, a frantic knock sounded at his door while his parents were out. Answering it nervously, an equally frantic man stood on the other side brandishing an arrow-head. He introduced himself exhaustedly as Miguel and begged for shelter- he was being chased.

Before Ghiaccio could answer a squad of men burst onto the porch and attacked Miguel, dragging him out of view. Ghiaccio was thrown to the ground and told in no uncertain terms to speak of none of this to anyone. It wasn’t until later he realised the arrow had accidentally slashed him.

At that time, Ghiaccio’s soul was not fit to manifest a stand, but it was close. And so, Ghiaccio began to suffer the slow, agonising fate that some in his position fall victim to, his half-manifested stand slowly sucking the life from him. His parents didn’t even have the heart to call a doctor.

Two months into this agony, Ghiaccio heard something outside his room. His parents. They were talking about what to do if he died. He’d had enough. He snapped.

And so, Ghiaccio’s soul reached the point where it was strong enough to bare a stand fully, after having already partially manifested one. This unheard of situation created a stand with no physical form, but unspeakable power. A surge of ice broke out around the house without Ghiaccio even meaning it to, killing his parents at once. His sickness gone, Ghiaccio got up from the bed. What the hell had just happened?

Convinced he had lost his mind, Ghiaccio fled, but left a trail of unexplainable events behind him. Realising they were dealing with an unaccounted stand user, Passione had Ghiaccio hunted down and propositioned to join them. Terrified and with no other idea of what to do, he agreed. With a stand like this, there were only 2 options: La Squadra and La Unita. La Unita had no interest in an impulsive teenager, so Ghiaccio was sent at once to La Squadra.

The group was reluctant to house a teenage boy as an assassin, but took him in nonetheless. Formaggio was grateful for the crumbs of information Ghiaccio could give about the fate of his brother. Sorbet and Gelato couldn’t shake the feeling they’d seen the boy before somewhere.

Illuso

He was an only child. There was nothing particularly wrong with his relationship with his parents, but nothing particularly right either. There just… wasn’t a connection. They were a middle class family, well to do but nothing special. An arrogant boy, Illuso struggled to make friends, though he did become somewhat close with a boy in the year below him named Formaggio, for a short time.

When Illuso was 15, his parents came to him with a proposition. A distant relative of theirs was in possession of a large castle, but could not pay for its upkeep any more. The man had asked if Illuso would be interested in becoming a live-in caretaker, to be paid less than industry standards but still a lot by the standards of a 15 year old boy. Illuso agreed at once, and moved out of his parents home in a matter of days.

At the castle, his loneliness only grew. The place was closed to visitors and had no inhabitants apart from his new employer, who even then only lived in the castle 4 days a week. Illuso thought he was okay with this life, but the effect on his psyche was indisputable.

Then one day, the castle had a break-in. Illuso was accosted by a young man named Miguel, who had been squatting in the cellar for days and believed the castle was abandoned. The pair came to an understanding, and Miguel proposed that in exchange for his silence, he would give Illuso something amazing. He pricked him with the arrow.

Thrilled with his new power, Illuso agreed to keep Miguel’s existence a secret and the pair co-existed for many years. Illuso learned that Miguel had stolen the arrow from a gang named Passione, after discovering its power and making the decision to take it on impulse. Passione is still hunting him, hence the need to hide.

But eventually, they found him nonetheless. Illuso and Miguel tried their best to fight but it was an uneven battle. Miguel fled with the arrow, chased by one half of the attacking squad, leaving Illuso to deal with the other half.

But against all odds, Illuso survived, using his stand to eliminate the attackers one by one. Eventually the last attackers gave in and fled, The next people sent to confront Illuso came with a deal: join Passione, and all will be forgiven.

Despite his stand’s power, Illuso’s superiors disliked his attitude. After a few months of being thrown between teams, he was saddled with La Squadra.

Melone

The middle of three children, Melone was born to an upper-working class family in Florence. His parents were eccentric-academic sorts, who encouraged Melone and his sisters to act without regard for social convention. Though intelligent, Melone was never quite top of the class due to his inability to stay on task. Still, he got into a decent university and had plans to become a gynaecologist.

In his second year, Melone was approached by a poor couple seeking antenatal care for their pregnancy. As they explained, they were in a gang and could not go into public care for fear of their identities as criminals being discovered. They pleaded Melone for whatever rudimentary checks he could provide, just so they could have some assurance their baby was okay. Melone agreed, and met with the couple several times.

Over the course of the next year, Melone gave similar services to a couple more women who were recommended to go to him by the first patient. It was only a matter of time before the university discovered what he was doing, especially once he started stealing equipment to improve the quality of his examinations. Melone was expelled and referred to the police, but one of his patients got Passione to bribe away his charges. Unfortunately, this put him in their debt. Melone told his family he was simply going away for a while.

Melone languished around in Passione for a while. Though he did receive a stand, its lethal capabilities weren’t immediately clear, and so he remained in the lower ranks. His main respite was the bar scene, in which he got to mingle with many of Passione’s members from different squads. It was through here that he met Illuso, Formaggio and Ghiaccio of the execution team, and formed a friendship. Through them he even formed links with the group’s leader, Risotto.

The team were eager to help Melone advance to a better position, and aided him in exploring his stand. Eventually, he discovered how lethal baby face could truly be, outshining everyone’s expectations. Risotto was pleased to welcome him into the team.

Pesci

By the time Pesci was 13, it was clear his mother’s illness was terminal. Initially reluctant to involve him around the team, Prosciutto increasingly allowed Pesci to stay with them while his mother was at the hospital, since there was nowhere else for the young boy to go. As much as everyone tried to comfort him, he was terrified.

Two years later, it was clear Loreta was in her final weeks. Pesci dedicated as much time as he could to being with her, sleeping at her bedside more often than not. It was here that he first felt the strange occurrences begin. It would be subtle at first, the peculiar feeling of his mother’s heartbeat in his hands as he drifted off to sleep. It was comforting, then. It assured him his mother was still alive. Then, it got weirder, a long string extending from his fingers and into his mother’s chest. He thought he was just sleep deprived.

When the fateful day came and Loreta’s heart monitor stopped, Pesci felt a surge of panic. Desperate to find some proof this wasn’t really happening, his stand burst forth from his body and shot its hook into Loreta’s chest. Unfortunately, it was all for nothing. Loreta was dead.

As Pesci held the rod in his hands he realised this was far too real to be a hallucination. He could sense everything, the fading metabolism of his mother’s body and the vibrations in the floor. As the nurses confirmed the death, they could not see it. Why couldn’t they see it?

Prosciutto came into the room. With one look, Pesci knew that his brother could see the rod as well. He panicked and ran.

Prosciutto tried desperately over the next couple days to get in touch with Pesci. He knew exactly what had happened- clearly the boy had summoned a stand from the anguish of his mother’s death and had freaked out in confusion. That’s all completely understandable, but if Pesci isn’t informed of what his new power means soon, he could get himself into serious trouble. Especially if Passione found out.

And so, Prosciutto set off with Risotto to hunt Pesci down, eventually finding him at a run down park near his childhood home. Prosciutto comforted him and explained he knew what was happening, but if everything was going to be okay, he had to go with them.

#la squadra #la squadra di esecuzione #formaggio #illuso #prosciutto #pesci #melone #ghiaccio #risotto nero #sorbet and gelato

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bjy-on-ao3 · 3 years ago

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Kinktober 2021, Day 2

(As usual, you can find the AO3 version of all my uploads [and some things I don’t post here to tumblr] via my Masterlist blog page.) This is more magical aphrodisiacs than a physical one, but I think it still fits. Had been tossing this around for a bit, as well as how I wanted to end it. I’d like to write more with Urianger, but, as much as I love him, his dialogue really breaks my brain mostly (and in saying that I hope the dialogue here is suitable!). Summary Practicing archaic spells is risky at best when done in a proper setting safe from tampering or reasonable error. When mischievous pixies or illusions get involved, things can go rather awry, even for an experienced caster.

Tags/Warnings Aphrodisiacs, Kinktober, Kinktober 2021, Magic, Oneshot, Prompt, Reader-Insert, Sex Pollen, Slightly Dubious Consent

Kinktober 2021, 02: Aphrodisiacs (Reader x Urianger Augurelt)

It was a day not unlike many others. Well, at least a day in the life of the champion who served some goddess of light and carried on their shoulders the fate of not just one world, but many. You had been granted a blessed respite among the numerous tasks that needed tending, thank the Twelve. Though, that respite didn’t mean you could afford to simply lie idle in the meantime. No, even on a day of rest, there were preparations to attend to, subjects to learn and study. Preparations that ought to give you a greater chance of success in your seemingly impossible ordeals.

Your preparations had taken you to Lydha Lran that day, home of the fae, to the little cottage estate that Urianger had taken up residence in during his time among the pixies. There had been some ancient, ritualistic spell, many eons old, unearthed from among the multitude of equally old tomes. You were unsure whether it had been Urianger’s discovery alone, or the pixies or nu mou had a hand in things as well. Whatever the case, Urianger seemed confident in the spell’s beneficial nature.

You had agreed without hesitations. After all, why shouldn’t you trust your fellow scions and dear friend? True enough, Urianger had been guilty of grand falsehoods in the past, but they had always been for the greater means to aid the scions and keep the world from calamity. Through all that, his loyalty had been proven unwavering.

With the assurance of your steadfast trust in mind, you had met him at his little home away from home one morning, not long after the sun had peeked past the horizon. As usual, it took some fussing with the pixies, over yourself and Urianger before they had been eventually convinced to disperse and grant you some privacy and silence. You had to admit, though, that it was always rather cute just how fond of the elezen man the pixies were.

Everything necessary for the spell had been gathered before and was carefully put into place around the room, to the finest detail and marking. Standing amidst glyphs and drawings, surrounded by tables, books, shelves, and various research aids, you cast a subtle glance toward Urianger. His nose pointed toward the pages of the ancient book, concentration written across his features. He ran his fingers lightly over the page, and his lips subtly, as if becoming better acquainted with the words staring back at him from the archaic tome. He paused briefly, before seeming to read a line over once more.

As he turned his focus from the tome, you looked at him expectantly. “I believe all is in order,” he stated, “On they leave, we may begin.”

“Let’s get started then,” you declared with a firm nod to match your eager tone.

With another swift glance at the tome’s musty pages, Urianger set about speaking the incantations, loud and clear as a bell, peppering in the various gestures and other necessities of the spell. You breathed a soft sigh to clear your mind and relax, to let the magics take hold. There was no room for aether stirred up by any potential lingering nerves associated with your heavy burden to the First and Source now.

The spell wasn’t long, its invocation taking only a minute or two, and at first, there was little difference in you. A sense of slightly energized refreshment, surely, but you had been imagining the spell’s effects to be something more noticeable or impressive. Yet just when you were about to ask Urianger if he was certain the spell had succeeded - or if mayhap the effect was one of the delayed kind - you were struck silent.

Your breaths came a little harder, sharper, and each gulp of air made you feel hot and tingly. Each breath seemed to draw down and into your center, bring with them a prickling warmth that wasn’t quite unpleasant. From that center of heat, the sensation crept outward to each extremity, to the tips of fingers and toes. Once the tingling warmth had enveloped you completely, it intensified, roaring hotter under your skin.

You were in no pain, though, and it was hardly even something you truly label as discomfort. It was simply something like a burning, a yearning for something to scratch the itch the tingling left in its wake. Despite leaving you unscathed, the feeling startled you.

“Is aught amiss?” Urianger asked, concern breaching his speech as if he could read the shock and newly spun worry on your face. Something for sure told the man something wasn’t quite right.

“I-I’m not quite sure. What-what does the tome say the spell should feel like?” you asked uncertainly, having to almost force the words out.

Your whole body throbbed now with the heat as if your blood was surging alongside it, too. It was a most distracting thing to feel, making it hard to focus on your words. The incessant heat seemed to only be fueled to greater heights when Urianger had spoken, brief as he had been.

Urianger’s pale eyes shot down to the page, quickly skimming again. Your heart skipped when noticed them widen slightly in what you could only assume was surprise. “I-What manner of trickery is this?” He flicked several pages, back and forth, as if searching for the spell that had presumably been right in front of him. “The incantation from before, ‘tis gone, and a new spell doth remain in its place,” he said, almost in a hush, as if in disbelief.

“Then what-aah,” your words faltered, the strange sensation choking your speech for an instant. “What spell was cast? I feel rather… hot, prickly almost,: you hesitated, trying to properly describe the sensation. It was something beyond prickles or tingles, rather something that had become a pulse, settling in your core and making you feel jittery, anticipatory.

Pale gold met your eyes when Urianger spoke again, and there was alarm, concern, and something akin to embarrassment. “A ritual many eons past, cast proceeding an ancient version of Eternal Bonding. A magic to ensure the newlyweds suffered no difficulties in the night thereafter,” he explained. His tone and demeanor would have seemed level enough, given the circumstances, were it not for the rosy flush of embarrassment dusting his cheeks.

“To ensure newlyweds suffered no difficulties?” You repeated, turning the words over in your heat-addled mind. You shuddered when the meaning, at last, struck home, giving the pulsing and heat in your center much more gravity.

Somehow, the book itself must have been magicked or disguised until the illusioned page’s spell has been cast. It had been an illusion great enough for Urianger not to see through, and he had unintentionally cast what was essentially the magical equivalent of a powerful aphrodisiac upon you. What you felt was not some horrid pain or sinister curse that would leave you in dire straights or with loss of life and limb. Though understanding that didn’t make the newly understood effect it had upon you any easier to resist or endure.

Each new second your eyes lay on the handsome elezen who seemed so shamed by his mistake magnified the ravenous heat in your gut by some degree as if he were some catalyst for it. Though perhaps in a way he was, in a way, though you had never told him outright. Here and there you had taken hints or advice from Thancred on flirting and subtly invitation, struck down by what seemed to be Urianger’s sheer obliviousness to the attempts. Hanging around him when you had spare time or making excuses to aid with his research, any effort you could spare to convey your feelings without actually speaking them had been worth it to you. Your desires had never been made quite plain, though.

Yet the potent sorceries coursing through you now were demanding you make it clear, and in the rawest and most physical sense. The intensity with which it was beginning to consume you was frightening on its own, even if it was otherwise harmless, only inconvenient.

“W-well, undo it then!” you insisted, your words wavered, your focus directed toward disobeying the spell and not besetting Urianger like some beast in heat.

Another quicker flicker of his eyes to the page, frantic searching, and another flash of regret. “There is naught I can do to dispel it. The spell must run its course.”

The admission made your stomach sink, though the rolling heat was more than happy to fill the emptiness left in its wake. You reeled, wondering if you should just flee, get far from the one man who had the greatest effect on your desires, even if he was unaware of it. Yet, the idea of being alone and ensorcelled to be boundless horny in the trickery-filled land of Il Mheg was not much more appealing of a prospect. The consequences you faced out there could likely be much more grave.

“Urianger, I…” you forced yourself to stop, cursing your traitorous tongue, already trying to decide for you. Would you go mad if you didn’t satisfy the howling desires in your gut and your mind? Such a spell suited to assist such sacred tradition seemed far more a curse than a boon. “There is a way,” you muttered, words low in shame and apprehension.

“Pardon?”

“A way to dispel it, I mean.”

If Urianger rejected your solution, rejected you, it would only compound the physical strain of the spell with an embarrassment that would surely never recede. But your muddled brain shouted at you, compelling you to just try . Never had you thought in your wildest dreams that this would be the manner in which you solicited Urianger, in any sense.

Urianger wasn’t daft, though, to be certain, and his eyes thinned at your proposal that a solution existed. “Prithee, explain what manner of dispelling thou doth speak of?” he asked cautiously.

For an instant of indecision, you weren’t sure whether to put it delicately or be straightforward and tactless. The latter won out though as another burst of heat blossomed in your core, radiating outward with startling swiftness. “In short, Urianger, I need you to fuck me.”

The crude words set Urianger’s cheeks aflame immediately. Though you imagined he’d already had an idea of what you meant to say, you hadn’t seen him quite so flustered in many moons. His new knowledge of what the spell was for didn’t protect him from the rush of pink and red to his cheeks, no matter how much he might have been prepared. Your stomach sank a second time as Urianger was silent for a moment, looking to be struck dumb by your bluntness.

“Nay, the spell doth color thine words and cloud thine judgment,” Urianger denied with a quick shake of his head.

In that instant, you silently cursed and blessed him for his sincerity. But you knew where your desires had lain dormant before the spell-twined mishap. The spell hadn’t clouded your judgment, only brought them seething to the surface and shattered your ability to keep them bound in silence. You shook your head fervently, ignoring another wave of throbbing heat.

“Trust me, please. I know what you think the spell has done to me, but even now I wouldn’t dream to ask anyone else to dispel it in such a way,” you explained, as coolly as your predicament allowed.

You punctuated your words with a pleading gaze. A plea to believe in your words. A plea to rescue you from the torrid heat tormenting your entire body. A plea, as you had so crudely demanded of him, to fuck you.

Several more heavy seconds passed, a resolve overtook Urianger, a notable flicker in the set of his lips and his amber eyes. “Very well, I shall do wilt though has asked of me to dispel the magics plaguing thee,” he agreed at last, and hope flared alongside the heat.

You sensed as if there were more Urianger meant to say, by the way his lips opened again for a bare instant before closing again. You didn’t need to be a mind reader, or to see into memories or have any gift to understand what lingered beyond his lips.

‘I pray thou wilt feel the same once the trouble sorcery has fled thee.’

You set upon Urianger, despite your insistence that he dispel the magic, overeager to soothe its effects. You slung your arms around him, pressing your lips to his urgently. He stiffened at first, despite his assent, but the tenseness loosened steadily. Large palms fell over your biceps, gentle and warm, neither trying to urge you closer or push you back. You pushed even further into the impromptu embrace and the desperate kiss.

Urianger pulled back, and the concern in his eyes that had never left shone back at you. “Twelve, thou art on fire,” he noted.

The heat of your form then was not just your imagination. It suffused not only your skin but your clothing as well, emanating off you in a way Urianger could easily feel despite the layers between you.

Feeling your plight for himself seemed to encourage Urianger, enlightening him to your desperation. You silenced his alarm with another kiss, moving slowly backward and pulling him along with you, though not allowing his frame to move an inch from your own. When the backs of your legs met the tome-strewn table, you shifted back, leaning your weight against the heavy wood. You tore one hand from the embrace, clumsily sweeping it behind you and displacing several heavy, leather-bound tomes. The thud of one colliding with the floor caught your attention only passingly before the concern was brushed away.

Urianger’s movements remained slow, uncertain almost as if you might draw back and change your mind at any moment. As if he still didn’t quite trust the certainty of your words from before. In the back of your mind, you were grateful for his respect, even if in the forefront of it a cacophony of carnal demands screeched. In spite of his hesitation, his touch was firm, and it comforted you somewhat through the raging heat of desire, even as it stoked the flames higher. His skin felt wonderfully chill to your burning body, and you clung to him more earnestly with each second passed.

Beneath the turbulent, intense arousal brought on by the magic, a buried part of you wished things could have happened slowly, enjoying each new lingering touch and glance and kiss. But there was no time for that now, no control left to support such a manner, not on your part. All that was left was the unbridled need that bade you reach for the skirts of Urianger’s flowing outfit and his small clothes beneath them and drag them down. A multitude of emotions flashed through his golden eyes: surprise at how bold the spell had made you, uncertainty at being so well exposed, and racing hints of his own burgeoning desire.

He was only half-hard beneath his small clothes, and you seized him in your grasp without a second thought, stroking him fervently to full mast. Urianger gasped and groaned at your unfettered, brazen attention, burying his nose against your sweltering skin for a time until your brought your hand away.

Next, you set about prying your own clothing keeping him from you, and his hands gently aided you in your task, until you were bare to him. You urged him even closer, wrapping your hand around his cock once more, the sight of his lurid, flushing erection sending you into an even greater lust-fueled frenzy.

“Urianger, please, please,” you begging instinctively, the desperation taking over again.

Eyes hooded, seemingly infected by the waves of desire rolling off of you despite his initial reluctance, Urianger did as you bade, moving to fit himself between your thighs. Laying his hand over yours, he guided his head to your entrance, well-soaked and dripping. He slid effortlessly through your sopping lips, and when his thick head slipped inside, there was no discomfort to be found. There was only pleasure, euphoria even, a body high that was nigh incomprehensible, as if the magic burning blood made it sing as you began to fulfill its purpose.

#kinktober #kinktober 2021 #ffxiv #fanfiction #urianger augurelt #kinktober day 2 #day two #nsft #n/s/f/w

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anjaniedringhaus · 3 years ago

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Fatima Shbair wins the Anja Niedringhaus Courage in Photojournalism Award

Brazilian and Iranian-Canadian women photographers also recognized

[September 29, 2021 – WASHINGTON, DC] – Today, the International Women’s Media Foundation presented Palestinian freelance photojournalist Fatima Shbair with the seventh annual Anja Niedringhaus Courage in Photojournalism Award. Since 2015, the international award has honored women photojournalists who take risks to capture humanity in dire circumstances, illuminating underreported and sometimes silenced stories. The prestigious award was created in honor of German Associated Press photojournalist Anja Niedringhaus, who was killed in Afghanistan in 2014.

Shbair’s portfolio rose above more than 100 applications that represented women photojournalists from more than 40 countries. At 24 years old, Shbair is the youngest winner of the ‘Anja Award’ to-date and is a self-taught, freelance photojournalist. Her portfolio, “11 Days of the Israeli-Palestinian Conflict,” includes unique moments of tension, violence, devastation, and hope all captured from Gaza City in May 2021.

“Life here is different, and I had to find a way to [show] what was happening,” says Shbair from Gaza. “Despite successive wars and tragedies, people here dig deep in search of hope, and their lives matter – it’s my responsibility to convey their voices to the world.” Shbair continued: “Anja’s work gives us the determination to continue on the path despite the difficulties. I can’t find the words to describe how honored I feel to receive this award.”

The IWMF also recognized two other women photojournalists with honorable mentions in the competition: Brazilian photojournalist Adriana Zehbrauskas, currently working in Phoenix, Arizona, and Iranian-Canadian photographer Kiana Hayeri, who is based in Kabul, Afghanistan. Zehbrauskas’ portfolio included energetic yet sensitive portrayals of migration and the toll of COVID-19 in Latin America, while Hayeri’s work spotlighted the rising conflict and looming crisis in Afghanistan from an alternative perspective.

“Within the past two years so many communities worldwide have been pushed to the brink in order to survive,” says the IWMF’s Executive Director Elisa Lees Muñoz. “Anja’s focus on resilience, hope and the intimate struggles people face in times of crisis is a legacy we turn to now more than ever. The IWMF is thrilled to recognize this year’s winner, Fatima Shbair, as well as Kiana Hayeri and Adriana Zehbrauskas in Anja’s name.”

This year’s jury included Corinne Dufka, Jacqueline Larma, Robert Nickelsberg, Tara Pixley, and Bernadette Tuazon. Together, the committee issued the following statement on this year’s Anja Award selection: “The portfolios from this year’s winner and honorees draw in the viewer and continue to grow with impact and intimacy. Each photojournalist demonstrated remarkable tenacity and developed clear and close bonds with her subject, accessing what few photographers can convey. We congratulate Fatima, Adriana and Kiana on their remarkable work; Anja would be proud to recognize each of you.”

Anja Niedringhaus was a recipient of the IWMF Courage in Journalism Award in 2005. The winner’s $20,000 prize is made possible by the Howard G. Buffett Foundation. Honorees’ images and captions, biographies and headshots are available for media use with proper attribution; to inquire further, please contact Charlotte Fox ([email protected]).

Courage in Photojournalism Award Winner

This year’s winner, Fatima Shbair, is a Palestinian freelance photojournalist from Gaza City.

After studying business administration for three years at Al-Azhar University in Gaza, Shbair switched to study journalism and began concentrating on photojournalism in 2019 through independent study and working in the field.

In 2020, Shbair began to receive assignments from several international agencies, including Getty Images and The New York Times, to cover her hometown as tensions continued between Israel and Palestine. Her assignments increased in 2021 but came with the challenge of working during a global pandemic, which also strained and ravaged her own community. Shbair is currently a contributor to Everyday Middle East and continues her work with Getty Images. Her work has been exhibited in Palestine, the UAE, London, and Paris.

As a women photojournalist, Shbair’s gender and line of work are challenged daily, due to the conservative nature of society in Gaza, and the prevenance of male photojournalists in the industry.

Juror Dufka noted, “Fatima’s stunning photo essay is one of the strongest entries the jury had the pleasure of reviewing these past several years. Her work with light, angles, and composition is remarkable as she weaves through a forest of destruction in her own backyard.”

Juror Larma continued, “She clearly spent a great deal of time with her subjects and pursued what’s beyond obvious for most photojournalists. Within these 11 days, Fatima took the time to pursue intimate storytelling, showing us both the physical and emotional toll on her subjects while operating in extreme danger.”

From Gaza, Shbair further remarked: “Courage is not just about taking risks; being human first is the true courage of a photojournalist. It is a great honor to receive this award, especially in Anja’s image, as we are all still learning from her creativity, journey, and pursuit of the truth.”

Twitter: @FatimaMshbair, Instagram: @fatimashbair

Courage in Photojournalism Honorees

Honoree Kiana Hayeri was born and partially raised in Iran and was first introduced to photography in high school after her family moved to Canada. Hayeri left Toronto during her final year of university and traveled to Afghanistan on assignment in 2013, where she’s remained.

In 2021, Hayeri received the Robert Capa Gold Medal for her photographic series, “Where Prison is Kind of a Freedom,” documenting the lives of Afghan women in Herat Prison. In 2020, she received the Tim Hetherington Visionary award and was named as the 6th recipient of the James Foley Award for Conflict Reporting.

Hayeri was an IAAB fellow in 2011 and completed a CIS artist residency at MIT University in 2012. In 2014, she was named as one of the emerging photographers by PDN 30 Under 30. In 2016, she was selected for the IWMF’s cross-border reporting fellowship to work on her proposed story in Rwanda and DRC and was selected as the recipient of Chris Hondros Fund Award as an emerging photographer. In 2017, Hayeri received a grant from European Journalism Center to do a series of reporting on gender equality out of Afghanistan and received Stern Grant in 2018 to continue her work on the state of mental health among Afghan women.

Hayeri is a Senior TED fellow, and her work has appeared in The New York Times, Le Monde, Harper’s Magazine, Washington Post, NPR, Monocle Magazine, Wall Street Journal, Marie Clare, Glamour, The Globe and Mail, Al Jazeera America, and CBC, among others.

When reviewing Hayeri’s portfolio, Tuazon noted that, “These images can only be captured by a woman with her specific access and lens. Every single day in this portfolio demonstrates unbelievable courage as the women and children she illuminates convey a harrowing narrative.”

Twitter: @kianahayeri, Instagram: @kianahayeri

Adriana Zehbrauskas is a Brazilian documentary photographer based in Phoenix, Arizona. Her work is largely focused on issues related to migration, religion, human rights, underrepresented communities, and the violence resulting from the drug trade in Mexico, Central and South America.

Zehbrauskas contributes regularly to The New York Times, UNICEF and BuzzFeed News and her work has been widely published in outlets such as The New Yorker, The Washington Post, The Guardian, Stern, Le Monde and El País, among others.

She is the recipient of a 2021 Maria Moors Cabot Prize, a New York Press Club Award in Feature-Science Medicine and Technology in the Newspaper category for the article “Zika’s Legacy: Catastrophic Consequences of a Continuing Crisis (NY-2018) and a POY International (2019). She was a finalist for the Premio Gabo (2018) and received two Honorable Mentions at the Julia Margaret Cameron Award (2018).

Zehbrauskas is one of the three photographers profiled in the documentary “Beyond Assignment” (USA, 2011, produced by The Knight Center for International Media and the University of Miami. She’s a recipient of the first Getty Images Instagram Grant and was awarded Best Female Photojournalist -Troféu Mulher Imprensa (Brazil). Her mobile photography work was selected by Time Magazine for the “29 Instagrams That Defined the World in 2014″ and her project on Faith in Brazil and Mexico was awarded an Art & Worship World Prize by the Niavaran Artistic Creation Foundation.

She’s an instructor with the International Center of Photography (ICP- NY), the World Press Photo Foundation, Gabriel García Márquez’s Fundación Gabo, the Foundry Photojournalism Workshop and serves as a jury member to dozens of grants and awards worldwide.

Commenting on Zehbrauskas’ portfolio, juror Pixley said, “The strength of her images is indicative of a lengthy time occupying difficult spaces despite both health and safety concerns. Her consistency across countries, issues and movements reveals the same, unique human connection.”

Twitter: @AZehbrauskas, Instagram: @adrianazehbrauskas

#awardwinner #iwmf #anjascourage

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scotianostra · 4 years ago

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On January 8th 1697 Thomas Aikenhead was executed in Edinburgh.

Thomas Aikenhead came from a well-to-do family in Edinburgh, his father being listed as a surgeon but more probably an apothecary, a dispenser of herbs and potions. Both his parents were dead by the time he became a student at Edinburgh University at the age of 16 or 17.

His mother had been a daughter of the manse, and you would think that would have made Aikenhead wary of challenging the established religion of the time, namely the all-powerful Church of Scotland, especially while still a student and under the constant gaze of professors, lecturers and, as it turned out, his fellow students.

These were the dying days of a curious period in Scottish history. Aikenhead would have been four when the ‘Wizard of the West Bow’ Major Thomas Weir was executed in 1670. Weir was by day an extreme Calvinist but by night an incestuous Satanist and it takes no great leap of reason to see that an impressionable young boy might well have been affected by the trial and execution of a local celebrity that lived not far from him.

The 1680s was also the ‘killing time’ for the Covenanters when many died because of they worshipped their same god in differing ways!

Thomas was a keen student and an avid reader, he may or may not have known and Edinburgh bookseller, John Frazer, who had been prosecuted after admitting either reading, or being in possession of Charles Blount’s Oracles of Reason a book I know nothing about but gather it relates to Deism, which questioned the existence or more importanyly, non-existence of God or Satan, Frazer had repented ad as it was a first offence was sackclothed and jailed in the old Tolbooth for a number of months.

Anyway, Thomas had a friend, well he thought he had a friend, Murdo Craig, but Murdo, on the sly had been keeping notes on Aitkenhead, and his dalliances with blasphemous ideals, we know that because they formed a large part of the indictment against Aikenhead.

“Nevertheless it is of verity, that you Thomas Aikenhead, shakeing off all fear of God and regaird to his majesties lawes, have now for more than a twelvemoneth by past, and upon severall of the dayes within the said space, and ane or other of the same, made it as it were your endeavour and work in severall compainies to vent your wicked blasphemies against God and our Saviour Jesus Christ, and against the holy Scriptures, and all revealled religione, in soe far as upon ane or other of the dayes forsaid, you said and affirmed, that divinity or the doctrine of theologie was a rapsidie of faigned and ill-invented nonsense, patched up partly of the morall doctrine of philosophers, and pairtly of poeticall fictions and extravagant chimeras, or words to this effect or purpose, with severall other such reproachfull expressions.”

He also charged Aikenhead under a more recent act, which made it a criminal offence to ‘deny, impugn or quarrel’ about the existence of God.

The prosecution papers go on to record

“You have lykwayes in discourse preferred Mahomet to the blessed Jesus, and you have said that you hoped to see Christianity greatly weakened, and that you are confident that in a short tyme it will be utterly extirpate.”

In this way he seems to have thrown himself upon the mercy of the court. There was none. On Christmas Eve, 1696, a jury found him guilty. Sir James Stewart asked for the death penalty and it was granted and “pronounced for doom,” as Scottish judges were still saying well into the 20th century in capital punishment cases.

Aikenhead pleaded for his life to the Privy Council emphasising his youth, his dire circumstances, and the fact that he was reconciled to the Protestant religion. There was some support for the death sentence to be commuted from at least two councillors and two Church of Scotland ministers, but the General Assembly of the Kirk intervened, demanding that Aikenhead suffer “vigorous execution to curb the abounding of impiety and profanity in this land”.

In his last letter to friends, written in the Tolbooth prison in Edinburgh as he awaited execution, Aikenhead at last gave a plausible explanation for his conduct – that he had been a disappointed seeker after truth.

He wrote: “It is a principle innate and co-natural to every man to have an insatiable inclination to the truth and to seek for it as for hid treasure. So I proceeded until the more I thought thereon, the further I was from finding the verity I desired.”

In truth, in a repressed society the student had just gone too far in rejecting the doctrines of Christianity calling it “feigned and ill-invented nonsense”

Aikenhead went to this day 1697, hanged on the scaffold at Shrubhill between Edinburgh and Leith. It is said that before he died he proclaimed that moral laws were the work of governments and men.

In his hand as the noose was placed around his neck was the Holy Bible.

The execution angered some people for many years afterwards. The great English historian Thomas Babington Macaulay wrote an account of the hanging and called the execution “a crime such has never since polluted the island.”

He continued: “The preachers who were the boy’s murderers crowded round him at the gallows, and, while he was struggling in the last agony, insulted Heaven with prayers more blasphemous than any thing that he had ever uttered.”

There was other evidence of church authorities being present as Aikenhead died. He was the last man in Britain to be hanged for blasphemy.

According to Arthur Herman in his book How the Scots Invented the Modern World: The True Story of How Western Europe’s Poorest Nation Created Our World and Everything in It the execution of Aikenhead was “the last hurrah of Scotland’s Calvinist ayatollahs” before the dawning of the age of reason in the Enlightenment.

Now we can all rejoice in The Enlightenment but a full 30 years later in the small town of Dornoch in Sutherland, Janet Horne was put on trial for the “crime” of having a daughter whose feet and hands were misshapen and who had herself given birth to a son with disabilities. She was the last woman in Britain to be burned at the stake for being a witch, her death bringing to an end the “burning time” when perhaps 4000 Scottish women were executed for the crime of witchcraft.

#Scotland #scottish #Edinburgh #blasphemy #judicial murder #hanging #history

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thecreaturecodex · 4 years ago

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Grigori

“Uatu” © Felipe Sobreiro, accessed at his deviantArt page here

[Commissioned by @thetygre. The Immortal’s Handbook is a weird relic of the d20 boom, a phenomenally ambitious book written and illustrated by a single individual, Craig Cochran. It attempted to unify D&D planar cosmology with accounts of Christian angelology and Jewish apocrypha, as well as provide statistics for literally planet-destroying creatures. It’s based off the Epic Level Handbook rules, and mechanically it is perhaps the ultimate example of that book’s “just make the numbers higher” philosophy. The neutronium golem, for example, is a living neutron star with a CR of 9721. What makes it that CR instead of, say, CR 9720, is perhaps known only to Mr. Cochran

These grigori are one of the few monsters of lower CR in the book, as part of its Book of Enoch fanfiction feel. The commissioner requested that I tie them into Pathfinder’s Weird Cosmology, with the Material Plane being the laboratory of competing groups of Ancient Aliens. I stripped off the original’s sorcerer casting, as well as its ability to steal XP from characters. The former to replace with more thematic class abilities in PFRPG, and the latter because that’s just a dick move.

Note that a watcher archon drawing on the same tropes already appears in the Codex. If you’re intending to use both creatures, maybe strip the mention of the name “grigori” from the archon. Or don’t--perhaps confusion over the two creatures has arisen in your game world.]

Grigori CR 14 N Outsider (native) This being is a bald giant with opalescent skin and a swollen head. It appears maimed—its eye sockets are empty holes, and the stumps of wings grow from its shoulders. Despite this, it seems calm and collected, even serene.

The grigori are also known as watchers, and are often mistaken for angels. They roam the world observing events, interfering only under the rarest of circumstances. They are attracted to areas of mythic potential, the deeds of great heroes and villains, and unique or extremely rare creatures. Few mortals have conversed with a watcher, instead catching merely a glimpse of the maimed giant at a distance before it disappears. Those who manage to talk to them find them great repositories of information, but often distracted and sad.

Grigori prefer to avoid combat except in the most dire of circumstances. They know that their appearances are alarming, and if they must approach a mortal, often do so under cloak of invisibility or with a calm emotions spell at the ready. If pressed into battle, they are reactive opponents, waiting until their enemies have acted before reacting—such delays grant them great defensive insights, and they can focus their superior intellects on offensive strikes as well. Those that a watcher touches with hostile intent are struck blind, but a foe that surrenders and behaves honorably may find its sight restored by the creature after negotiations finish.

The grigori are an ancient race, a relic of the beginnings of creation. The elohim crafted them from quintessence and deposited them on the worlds of the Material Plane, where they served as reporters and correspondents. Each watcher observed a particular species or culture, sending missives on their uninterrupted development to the elohim. The annunaki, however, interfered; these strange beings were more interested in uplifting civilizations than allowing them to develop normally, and through slow and subtle persuasion convinced a contingent of grigori to interbreed with mortals, to donate their magical power into a bloodline. The descendents of these unions are now known as the nephilim. Offended and horrified by the disruption to their experiment, the elohim killed the offending grigori and maimed the rest, taking their eyes, wings and mythic power as a reminder of the consequences of interference. The elohim did not bother to create replacements, and the line of the grigori has been winnowed by violence and fate over the course of the ensuing millennia. Most of the grigori in existence are still loyal to the elohim, but a few renegades do exist—some are malefactors of the greatest rank, whereas others actively assist the forces of good.

Grigori CR 14 XP 38,400 N Large outsider (native) Init +4; special (see patient insight); Senses all-around vision, darkvision 60 ft., Perception +24, true seeing Defense AC 29, touch 19, flat-footed 25 (-1 size, +4 natural, +10 natural, +6 insight) hp 195 (17d10+102); fast healing 5 Fort +22, Ref +17, Will +22 DR 10/epic; Immune ability damage, ability drain, blindness, cold, energy drain, petrifaction; Resist acid 10, electricity 10, fire 10; SR 25 Defensive Abilities karmic link, patient insight, sightless vision Offense Speed 40 ft., air walk Melee 2 slams +22 (2d6+6 plus blindness) Space 10 ft.; Reach 10 ft. Special Attacks studied combatant (+8 or +7d6, 7 rounds) Spell-like Abilities CL 14th, concentration +20 (+24 casting defensively) Constant—air walk, tongues At will—analyze aura, calm emotions (DC 18), clairaudience/clairvoyance, detect thoughts (DC 18), greater dispel magic, sanctuary (DC 17), sending 3/day—arcane eye, invisibility, teleport 1/day—discern location, find the path, greater scrying (DC 23), heal, vision Statistics Str 22, Dex 19, Con 22, Int 25, Wis 23, Cha 22 Base Atk +17; CMB +24; CMD 39 Feats Alertness, Combat Expertise, Combat Casting, Combat Reflexes, Dodge, Lightning Reflexes, Mobility, Skill Focus (Knowledge: history) (B), Spring Attack, Whirlwind Attack Skills Diplomacy +20, Knowledge (arcana, dungeoneering, engineering, geography, local, nature, nobility, planes, religion) +21, Knowledge (history) +27, Linguistics +21, Perception +24, Spellcraft +21, Sense Motive +24, Stealth +14, Use Magic Device +20 Languages Aklo, Common, Draconic, Giant, 11 others, tongues SQ area of expertise, no breath Ecology Environment any Organization solitary or council (2-12) Treasure standard Special Abilities Area of Expertise (Ex) A grigori treats all Knowledge skills as class skills, and gains Skill Focus in one Knowledge skill of its choice as a bonus feat. Blindness (Su) A creature struck by a grigori’s slam attack must succeed a DC 24 Fortitude save or be rendered permanently blind. Karmic Link (Su) A grigori can cause creatures within 60 feet that harm it to take the damage they dealt. This does not take an action on the grigori’s part, but costs it an attack of opportunity. A creature can resist this with a successful DC 24 Will save. This damage ignores all forms of damage reduction or immunity, and the save DC is Charisma based. Patient Insight (Su) If a grigori delays its action until the end of a turn, it gains an insight bonus to Armor Class and saving throws equal to its Wisdom modifier. These bonuses are included in its statistics above. Sightless Vision (Su) Although a grigori’s eyes do not work, its entire body functions as an eye. This grants it all-around vision and true seeing as supernatural abilities, and it is immune to blindness effects. A grigori is treated as being completely blind in the area of an antimagic field, and cannot avert its gaze for the purposes of gaze attacks. Studied Combatant (Ex) A grigori gains the studied combat and studied strike abilities of an investigator with a class level equal to its Hit Dice. Grigori hit dice stack with investigator levels for the purposes of studied combat and studied strike bonuses.

#grigori #watcher #commissions #pathfinder 1e #Marvel Comics

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yinyangswings · 5 years ago

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Astoria: Fate’s Kiss and Love & Legends AU

Thought this would be an interesting idea if the two stories were connected somehow.

There is more under the Read More sign.

General

MC and Astoria Fate’s kiss (AFK) MC are canonically the same age. Depending on the situation, they have met prior.

MC wanted to see what other cities were like, so left New York. She still visits New York when she can, but prefers Chicago

MC family members can sense her aura so they aren’t worried that she’s not in the same city. That changes when all of a sudden her aura is gone from Chicago.

The WQ’s soul fragment changed how they look, hence why MC looks the way she does in comparison to some of her family members. Some of them don’t worry about it as much.

They are all really surprised, but delighted when finding out that those in the Fantasy Realm have never heard of the Greek Gods/Monsters.

August Falke

MC is the baby sister to Cerberus, Nemean, and Orthus.

Her mother had extreme animosity towards her due to her being a woman. If she was ever the one in trouble, even Cerberus couldn’t sway their mother.

She is close to Hades like her brothers are.

Her aura is a phoenix and contained in a red feathered earring that she wears. While her aura protects her, it will burn up and take her awhile to restore it if she uses it too long. In dire circumstances she becomes the phoenix and is literally on fire, though thankfully she’s not harmed by it. She also looks like she’s on fire when using the aura

August is not amused when this happens.

Due to her mother, when she meets Asta she becomes a lot quieter than normal, much to August’s confusion. Asta kind of figures it out when MC flinches involuntarily while helping Asta out.

Asta is a lot gentler to her and when he mentions how strange she’s being, informs August that while she might be strong, MC has vulnerabilities just like every human, and some vulnerabilities are far more damaging even after years of healing.

Even when she moves to Chicago, they still are close and regularly call each other. When she is sent to the fantasy land, she worries over them, because they can’t visit her all at once and she knows they’re bound to notice when she doesn’t call them.

And they do, and they worry. A lot.

She is very frazzled when she enters the Fantasy Realm, because she can’t sense her brothers and just knows she’s not in the same place as them.

She talks about her brothers but doesn’t talk about her mother, actively refuses to talk about her.

Returning to Chicago puts MC in shock and she just wanders back to her apartment. She no sooner opens it than she’s pulled into a hug by a very worried Cerberus, who after not hearing from her for a week, and Sophie saying MC hadn’t been seen, had gotten AFK MC to go with him to Chicago to look for her. He’s incredibly confused as to why his sister is dressed in medieval armor. They’re GREEK myths.

She essentially breaks down into a sobbing mess in his arms because she doesn’t know what’s happened to August and she doesn’t know how to get back. And everything is just so stressful and too much.

When she finally calms down, she explains everything to Cerberus, AFK MC, and Sophie. Sophie reveals who she is, backing up MC.

Cerberus is really reluctant at first, because...this is his baby sister. He hasn’t even met this...August Falke, and his baby sister is in love with the guy?? AFK MC smooths it over with him and he dives headfirst into looking for solutions so she can get back.

He gives her the biggest hug when she leaves.

MC’s aura helps lessen the pain of the curse, but only just.

They are all really surprised when she returns with August and are overjoyed to see her, creating a literal dogpile.

They are less pleased when they find out about the curse.

Initially they are all for making her stay, but when she makes it very, very clear she’s not leaving August, they decide to help them try and find a way to break the curse.

They all pretty much interrogate August while they’re looking for the Aisetha, making sure that this man would be good enough for their baby sister. August is a bit intimidated, but nonetheless they manage to like him and gain their approval.

They more or less welcome him to the ‘pack’. They made August promise to look after her, which wasn’t a difficult promise for him to agree to.

MC gets a surprise at the wedding when a portal appears and her brothers, as well as AFK’s MC arrive. Cerberus says it was all because of Hades and they wouldn’t be good big brothers if they missed her wedding would they?

They don’t tell her how they know she’s getting married, and she’s too happy to ask.

Talking about children is entertaining, and he asks if their children might be able to get auras. She says it’s possible, but only time would tell.

Saerys

MC is the youngest sister to Medusa. She never got involved in the gangs like her sisters did. She helped Medusa get back on her feet after Perseus took her aura.

When she meets the AFK MC, she immediately likes her. Plus AFK MC bakes some awesome sweets.

Her aura is a jellyfish and is contained within a necklace.

Like her sisters, she can freeze people to stone. Unlike her sisters, it causes strain to her eyes.

She doesn’t tell anyone what she is or what she’s capable of due to the fact that they already are nervous about her. She doesn’t need to give them legit reason to be frightened of her.

MC actually thinks that when the villagers are calling Saerys a monster, they’re referring to her for other reasons. She’s been called that before.

When she tells him that she’s been called a monster, he doesn’t understand who could see her as a monster.

When she reveals her aura to the others when Saerys goes turbo mode for the first time they understand why she kept her abilities a secret.

She nearly kills Lennox with her ability, but a soldier gets in the way. They retreat at that point and MC is pretty disoriented because of it.

She does tell them she won’t use the ability unless it’s a final resort. Saerys is perfectly alright with that, granted he’s more concerned about her hurting herself than freezing people to stone.

When she ‘dies’ and Saerys gives her a part of his soul her aura vanishes. It feels strange and she wonders how Medusa managed to do this when she lost hers by herself.

Saerys and her bond over being the only one of their kind in the Fantasy Realm. Even back in Chicago, MC is considered the only ‘gorgon’ in that city.

Speaking of returning to Chicago. When she gets back, she gets pretty much tackled by Medusa, who feared that someone, either their other sisters, their mother, or just some enemy from the past had attacked her as retaliation. Heck, she thought Perseus had been involved for a little while.

That apparently was a very...loud argument at H.E.R.A that everyone in the building heard.

Medusa is not pleased when her sister comes back with a strange man in tow. Even more when she senses that her sister's aura is no longer...there.

Finding out she died and Saerys saved her by implanting a part of his soul in her has two reactions. Her desire to maim/murder WQ rising and then hugging the crap out of Saerys, who is pretty sure she broke several of his ribs.

When Saerys regains his ability to go into turbo mode, she regains her connection to her aura.

The demon souls actually really like her and her monsterous abilities. Saerys nor MC are thrilled by this declaration by the souls.

MC is nervous because she doesn’t know what future children would be like. Saerys is quick to tell them they would be lovely, no matter what.

Altea Bellerose

MC is the daughter of Hades. No one knows who her mother was other than Hades.

While he’s a workaholic he does care for her. She helps him out along with her cousin Persephone to at least try and get him away from work, with little success.

Her aura appears as a screech owl. She has it hidden in a ring.

Hades is alerted almost immediately that MC is missing. He looks around Chicago with AFK MC, then asks Cerberus and his brothers if she has gone through the gates. He then, very reluctantly, looks at the roster of newly deceased individuals in case he missed MC’s name. Thankfully she doesn’t appear on it.

The relief is short lived, because that means he doesn’t know where she is.

She actually reveals her aura early on when Helena tries to attack Altea. It’s...very startling to say the least, and she has a lot of explaining to do.

She keeps her parentage very, very vague. She’s pretty sure that saying ‘hey I’m the daughter of the God of the Underworld’ won’t go over well.

This does lead to an argument down the road when MC finds out about Altea’s parentage.

‘You didn’t tell me about your family either!’ ‘My father is the God of the Underworld, Altea! Because that wouldn’t scream wannabe goth in any shape or manner and wouldn’t have made you all think I’ve lost my marbles!’

MC getting back to Chicago with Altea is entertaining because Hades, Persephone, and AFK MC are there and Altea proceeds to see MC getting lectured for vanishing and all of them asking where she went and what happened.

Altea low-key gets a crush on Persephone. MC is not surprised.

They meet Altea. It’s...intimidating for the wizard. Especially meeting Hades. MC is a little worried, but thankfully Hades likes Altea.

Altea’s parents are...overjoyed? They learn their daughter is in love with the child of a god. MC is amused, while Altea is annoyed. Lional is so excited when she reveals her aura.

Hades does eventually tell MC her history and family line. Altea is right there with her and letting her process the information.

Hades as well as AFK MC come for the wedding. MC has to keep her laughter down because Hades looks so out of place.

Her dress is a little more greek looking than her canon dress.

Reiner Wolfson

MC is the daughter Aphrodite, and the baby half-sister to Alex and Eros.

She became fast friends with the AFK’s MC when they met as they are the same age.

MC’s aura appears as wolves and she it’s contained in a necklace.

Yes Alex teases her when they find out her lover’s last name is Wolfson, and yes she realizes the irony.

Initially Alex thought they were losing it, or they’re tired from overworking when MC’s aura just vanishes from their radar. That all changes when Aphrodite comes down from Olympus absolutely frantic as she can’t sense it either.

AFK MC and Alex head over to Chicago, trying to find clues about where she went to no avail.

Meanwhile MC is struggling to keep the fact she’s a demigod a secret. She figures that it won’t go well for her to show she’s a demigoddess when everyone thinks she’s someone called the Witch Queen.

She reveals who or rather what she is when Reiner comes to rescue her and she summons her aura to protect Reiner from Magnus.

She explains who she is and what her life is like as a demigoddess.

She muses that Reiner’s family story is similar to a Greek tragedy, and regrets the thought when Aldric returns.

She’s actually more open to marrying. She’s the daughter of Aphrodite so it’s really not that much of a surprise.

Her aura fights within her when she and WQ are struggling for control. It’s painful and draining and the first night she scratches her arms raw.

Reiner is not a happy man when he sees that and it makes him worry for her even more.

When the WQ is partially possessing her, she gives Reiner the necklace that houses the aura. While it won’t activate for him, she’s sure it will remain safe with him and will protect him in some way.

She doesn’t realize how much that is true until they’re both sent to Chicago and she can sense half of the aura gone

When she returns to Chicago, she barely manages to get into her apartment before she’s pulled in with a big hug and starts being scolded by Alex.

And she just breaks down, much to their confusion.

She explains what happened and where she had been. That she needs to find Reiner because he’s somewhere in this world and the realm she had been in needs him. And she needs him too.

At first Alex is a little reluctant to believe her, but she points out that they’re the children of a goddess, the idea of a different realm should not be that much of a stretch. They can’t really find an argument to that.

Finally Alex agrees and along with AFK MC they begin to search for him.

Thankfully Alex likes Reiner when they meet him. They can tell he’s a good man.

Getting married in Las Vegas is...interesting. She’s sure her mother probably wouldn’t approve, but they really don’t have time for a full blown Greek wedding.

Along with Sophie, Alex and AFK MC are there as witnesses

Just seconds after they’re married and the spell is broken, in comes Aphrodite. And oh boy, is MC in trouble.

“What do you mean you’re married?!?” “Um...I’m just following your ideals on love?” “AND I WASN’T INVITED!?!’

Reiner may or may not fear for his life as the Goddess of Love stares up at him, taking in her new son-in-law. She may be shorter than him, but that doesn’t stop the panic at the possible smiting he might have incurred. Thankfully she smiles after a moment and welcomes him into the family.

Being a demigoddess did prepare her to be cordial and dealing with the council and nobles. She may not like it, but it still works in her favor.

The nobles try once, ONCE, to say MC isn’t worthy to be married to Reiner. Then Aphrodite appears looking very godly, very angry and very displeased about them calling her daughter a commoner

The nobles shit their collective pants and MC just wants to sink into the ground. Reiner finds it hilarious.

MC is low-key terrified about when she has a kid what her family is going to be like and senses that there will be many impromptu visits from them.

Iseul Idreis

MC is the baby sister to Chimera and Eagle.

Her aura appears as a lion and eagle, representing the Mesopotomian monster Anzû. It’s kept in an armlet.

Both of her brothers tease her about the fact that she has an aura that’s almost a part of each of their own. While she acts annoyed, she actually loves the fact her aura parts somewhat represent her brothers.

They are particularly protective of her and did not want her moving to Chicago, but she’s as stubborn as they are.

She initially played middleman between Chimera and Eagle in conversation, even after she moved to Chicago. After the events in Season One of Chimera’s route, she doesn’t have to play middleman and just enjoys chatting to the two of them.

They usually keep in contact with her and she does visit from time to time, getting to know AFK MC.

‘Seriously, he’s an idiot. A cute idiot, but an idiot. How did he snag you??’ ‘Hey!!’

It becomes worrying for both men when they don’t hear from her for a little while and they head to Chicago to find out what is going on. Cue them finding out she hasn’t been seen in over a week.

Meanwhile she’s having to contend with hiding what she is...well...a monster to the Fantasy Realm and keeping her aura hidden.

It is discovered that the WQ had been in contact with Typhon and that is how MC was created. Typhon then implanted memories in Chimera and Eagle about her.

It does make her hesitant to reach out to them initially, worried they’ll not see her as family.

Imagine her surprise when they literally barge into her apartment and then surprise hug her, both yelling at her, asking where she’s been and if she’s okay, as well as just saying how relieved that she’s back.

She finds out that Typhon told Chimera and Eagle when they went to him to see if he had done something to her. They still consider her their sister, even if she’s only actually been ‘alive’ for a few years.

MC introducing them to Iseul is hilarious. Eagle goes ‘older brother’ on him, making sure Iseul is good enough for his sister. Chimera is trying to not crack up laughing while still trying to be intimidating.

Magnus is very much afraid of them, as he should be. He vaguely questions his Queen’s mindset when choosing Typhon to look after her vessel.

They aren’t exactly pleased with MC going back, but feel like she should finish what’s been started.

However, they’re...very much surprised when MC comes back and ‘surprise you’re both going to be uncles’. Eagle looks like he’s aged a decade and Chimera doesn’t want to think about the fact that his sister did...that.

“Chimera, we started having sex way before-” “LALALALALALALA! CAN’T HEAR YOU!!”

They wind up being protective of her during the pregnancy, even deciding to come along when MC returns to the Fantasy Realm with AFK MC. That has both its advantages and disadvantages.

Guess who is panicking along with Isuel when MC is kidnapped? Nothing says fun like two monsters arguing on how the best way to get their sister is. MC saving herself and then giving them grief over it is a very humorous sight.

Both of them compete on who is the best uncle for Iris. Thankfully Iseul doesn’t have any brothers so there isn’t a worry in that department on the Idreis side.

Helena Klein

MC was the daughter of Zeus, but was cast away from Olympus.

Hercules took her aura when she was cast out and she’s bitter about it. She moves to Chicago to get away from Olympus, H.E.R.A., and everything else. She does not talk to any of her family members.

She happens to be visiting New York when she hears about Astraeus and the Titans fighting against the Gods, and goes further into hiding so her family can’t try to contact her for help. They didn’t help her, why should she help them?

She meets Astraeus, and surprises him by not intervening in his quest. AFK MC talks to her and they strike up a friendship but MC keeps to herself.

Being sent to the Fantasy Realm is almost a blessing, even if she is confused as to why she’s here.

She thinks for a very brief moment, this is something due to her father and is really, really ticked off.

She’s really protective of Helena, especially when she discovers all the pain Helena had gone through.

They’re relationship is a bit of a slower burn, as MC is still worried about her family and Helena doesn’t know what to make of her.

Both of them bond over being casted out from their homes for things that they had little control over. For MC it makes her fall for Helena even more because she understands her.

She tries to not be controlling, as she doesn’t want to be like her father. It throws Helena for a loop.

When she tells Helena about her family, Helena is at first stunned, but then very angry that she’s been subjected to that. And by a god no less.

She swears that MC’s family will not get close to her.

When they return to Chicago and Helena has no memories, she’s at a loss, because she would have usually gone to the gods for help, but isn’t about to do that, even if she can.

When Helena remembers, MC is so relieved because she was getting close to trying and contacting the gods if any still remain.

When they return to Chicago for the final time, MC says that eventually they’ll go to New York to visit, but only after everything quiets down there. They’re happy to remain in Chicago.

Alain Richter

MC is the baby sister of Hydra

Her aura is Cerastes and is hidden in an anklet.

Hydra is pretty cold towards her initially, making her think he didn’t like her. It’s later revealed that his attitude to her stems from his need to protect her so she wouldn’t be used against him by Hercules or the other gods.

While it kills him, he lets her go to Chicago, thinking she’s safer there.

MC is quite stunned for Hydra to be at her doorstep in the events of Season 2 of Astoria: Lost Kisses. Just as much as the fact that Hydra has a girlfriend.

To be fair AFK MC is just as surprised to see MC as well as Hydra kept his baby sister a secret.

After the events in that Season, they reconcile and keep in contact. When she suddenly just drops off the face of the earth, Hydra notices and becomes concerned and goes to investigate.

Meanwhile MC is attempting to keep the fact that she’s a monster a secret from everyone, especially Alain. While she realizes that she is indeed the past WQ before she went evil, she also realizes that becoming Cerastes has changed her.

She unleashes an icy version of the snake when her ice powers come to surface. She then very reluctantly tells Alain who...or rather what she is considered in Chicago. She also show Alain what the Cerastes aura looks like originally

Alain is stunned, but states that it doesn’t change his feelings for her.

The snake protects both of them when WQ returns and aids in freeing them.

She nearly passes out when she uses it too much when they are fighting with Reiner and the retainers.

As she relieves the memories of her and Alain’s past, a part of her wonders if she would have become like the WQ had she and Hydra never reconciled and the feeling of loneliness continued.

While the WQ is able to use the ice-serpent shape, she is unable to use the Cerastes aura in its entirety, and that’s what aids MC for revealing that the WQ was impersonating her.

Returning to Chicago is...stressful. When Alain breaks up with her, she just wanders around. She barely gets down a block before Hydra finds her and is frantically checking her, his aura checking on hers. She’s dazed but then breaks down, which does not help with Hydra’s panic.

He doesn’t believe her at first when she explains what happened and where she’s been, because even for a Greek monster, that seems far-fetched.

Eventually though she convinces him she’s not making this up, especially when she shows him the armor, and he can tell that that’s not of Earth or even Godly origin.

Initially Hydra thinks that Alain is attempting to kidnap her when they get back together. He attacks Alain and it’s only her summoning her aura that makes him stop.

He does not like Alain any more either when he finds out that Alain is MC’s lover.

Because this bastard touched his sister.

MC has to go back to defeat the WQ, and Hydra is not thrilled by this. He kept her away from him so she wasn’t involved in fighting, and now she’s been thrown into a fight.

AFK MC manages to convince him to let her go.

MC promises to visit him, and she finds a way to do so.

The whole Umbra thing is such a quest and she’s so annoyed with it, even if she does realize she needs to complete it so both worlds and all realities are safe.

She manages to make a portal so she can visit her brother. Hydra still hates Alain, but he’ll humor him or her sake.

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panharmonium · 5 years ago

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well, we started season 5 the other night.

[disclaimer again for anyone who doesn’t know me: i’m rewatching because I NEVER FINISHED SEASON 5. i have never seen the last four episodes. i don’t know how it ends. please help me enjoy (or, you know, maybe not enjoy, given how things are going in the first two episodes, but...experience, at least) season 5 without spoilers. thank you!]

i’m going to try to keep up with posting some things during season 5, but despite the fact that i don’t actually know how it ends, this season still kind of makes me feel like i’m being marched to my own execution, and sometimes i feel TOO emotionally invested in what’s going on to even want to write about it, but we’ll see how much i get done.

anyway - the most important takeaway i want to put down about the opener is that merlin is a mess.

the writers/directors do a really great job of flipping the script between seasons 4 and 5. in season 4, arthur was the disaster, and merlin was the one who had to take charge of everything. but in season 5, arthur's gotten his life together, and merlin’s the one having a crisis.

the turnaround that arthur makes between S4 and S5 is amazing. it’s like he’s a completely different person. a better person. i love seeing him like this - after spending all of season 4 so fed up with him, suddenly i get into season 5 and finally see the king i was looking for. there’s no more agonizing over what people will think of his decisions or what his father would do - he just looks inside himself and does the right thing. he’s confident. comfortable in his leadership role. and you can see that it’s changed his entire demeanor. despite everything that’s happening, he never seems excessively worried about their situation. he never seems overly stressed (in contrast to merlin, who is losing his mind) - he stays positive and just does what has to be done. he seems happy.

it’s the kind of peace of mind that comes from being certain that you’re doing the right thing. he almost never experiences that in season 4, but in season 5, he’s finally comfortable with who he is and what he’s doing. even the tone of his confrontation with morgana is different than it was in S4 - he’s not second-guessing everything he did that could have made her hate him anymore. he regrets the situation they’re in, but he’s not tearing himself up over it. he’s not afraid of her.

merlin, on the other hand -

merlin is afraid of everything.

merlin in season 5 is a grade A disaster. the - you remember how in this old piece i kept saying ‘merlin’s life does not revolve around arthur pendragon?’

well, it didn’t, then. but it sure as hell does now.

and not in a nice ‘you’re my best friend’ kind of way, either. the fear of what’s coming - the idea that Something Bad is coming for arthur and that only merlin can stop it from happening, the fear that everything he’s worked for will come to nothing - it swallows merlin whole. it changes him. from the very first episode, his fear twists him into something unrecognizable. like - even before mordred comes on the scene, after annis says that it’s likely gwaine and percival are still alive and being held captive - merlin tries to convince arthur not to rescue them. he says “i’m not sure we should go to ismere.”

like - excuse me? merlin’s advocating for NOT rescuing someone? for just leaving his friends to die? for abandoning GWAINE, of all people?

something’s wrong. something’s big-time wrong.

and it’s not like we’ve never seen hints of this...ruthlessness in him before. merlin's worst moments have always tried to poke through when he gets too caught up in what kilgharrah tells him is “supposed” to happen, when he lets his fear of failing at his destiny override his natural compassionate instincts. he almost leaves mordred to be captured in 1.08. he almost allows uther to be assassinated in 1.11. he does poison morgana in 2.11, though i’ll grant that that was in dire circumstances and under extreme duress. for the most part, though, in moments like these, merlin’s better nature wins out, and he ends up defying the “demands of destiny” to do what he thinks is the right thing, the better thing, the kinder thing. even when confronting morgana in the crypts in the S3 opener, he tells her “it doesn’t have to be like this. we can find another way.”

but this season, merlin’s better nature is losing. he’s losing himself. and it’s noticeable, even to other characters. arthur tells him “i’ve not seen you smile these past three days,” and gaius notices he’s not himself:

what happened to the young boy who came into my chambers just a few years ago?

he grew up.

which is, of course, exactly what morgana says to arthur in 5.2.

watching this happen is the most devastating thing. it’s TRAGIC. for a character whose base personality has always been so sunny - how absolutely inconceivable is it to hear arthur advocating mercy in a situation where there was no need for further violence, and then to have merlin be the one shouting “you should have killed him!”

the juxtaposition of ‘he showed us kindness’ with ‘YOU SHOULD HAVE KILLED HIM!’ is horrifying. like. good god. even arthur thinks it’s bizarre. he literally turns to look at merlin and goes “what is WRONG with you?”

and then when they’re contemplating getting inside the fortress, merlin says again “i told you. you should have killed him when you had the chance.”

and arthur gives him this look and the tiniest little shake of the head.

what is wrong with you.

last season, it was merlin telling arthur “this isn’t like you.” this season, somebody desperately needs to tell merlin the same thing.

it’s bad. it’s bad, bad, bad. that’s all i can say about it. we’re only at the opener of the season and merlin’s entire life has already been consumed by this fear. everything else falls by the wayside. he does things that go completely against his nature. it’s a far cry from the merlin of yesteryear, who fought the dragon every step of the way when kilgharrah tried to make him abandon morgana or let the druid boy die or even allow uther to be killed. it’s a far cry from the merlin of 2.11, who shouted “where does it say my destiny includes murder?!” it’s a far cry from the merlin of previous seasons, who said things like this:

you're telling me that little boy is going to kill arthur?

it seems that is up to you.

no. you can't know that for certain.

you have it in your power to prevent a great evil.

there must be another way. the future isn't set in stone.

does season 5 merlin not remember what happened the last time he acquired a little bit of foreknowledge and tried to actively stop the future from happening? he ended up causing the exact events he was trying to prevent.

i repeat - HE ENDED UP CAUSING THE EXACT EVENTS HE WAS TRYING TO PREVENT!

and obviously i haven’t finished this season, so i don’t know, but i just don’t think anything good can come of this constant ‘trying to get mordred killed’ thing merlin has going on. so far, mordred hasn’t even done anything to hurt any of them. i actually like mordred, in fact, from what we’ve seen of him. and yeah, okay, probably i’m going to get burned for that later, but the merlin we knew before would always rather get burned for trusting someone and seeing the best in people instead of just advocating for cold-blooded murder.

like - maybe mordred IS secretly evil! maybe he is! but merlin in previous seasons would never have just taken kilgharrah’s word for it. he always used to say ‘we can find another way. there must be another way.’

nowadays, it’s like he’s given up. he is single-mindedly focused on the only purpose he can see for his life anymore, and that purpose is simple, stark, and cold: ‘make sure arthur doesn’t die.’ there is literally no room in his life for anything else.

and you know - some people would see that as like...i don’t know. romantic, or something. beautiful. but i don’t.

arthur and merlin actually love each other in this season, and i think that’s beautiful. arthur’s finally gotten out of ‘be a dick’ mode, and even in just the opener he displays genuine care and concern about merlin, and that’s beautiful. the two of them are on more equal footing than they ever have been in the past - for the first time, it feels to me like they’re actually friends - and that’s beautiful, too.

but the utter collapse of merlin’s entire sense of self and the dissolution of any bit of his life and worth that doesn’t have to do with ‘make sure arthur doesn’t die?’ that’s not beautiful at all. merlin is miserable in season 5. he’s lost so much of what made him who he was. he’s hidden himself away for so long that the lie has stuck; he hardly remembers who he used to be, and he’s stopped hoping for better, because people kept telling him ‘your time will come’ but it NEVER DID, and arthur is king now but NOTHING HAS CHANGED, and i don’t think merlin’s ever felt more alone than he is when we see him in S5.

i don’t think he remembers what it was like to think things could be different. it’s been three years since he had a friend to love him for who he was. lancelot is dead. ealdor feels like a dream. he has gaius, and that’s all - the rest of his life is a lie. and it’s like he’s resigned himself to it now. he doesn’t talk about telling the truth anymore. he doesn’t chafe at not being able to reveal himself. this is the season where he literally hears arthur say ‘maybe my father was wrong, maybe not all sorcery is evil’ and then merlin declines an opportunity to free himself, just to make sure mordred will die.

it visibly kills him to do it. you can see the agony of that decision on his face. the pain that he is in during this season is slowly destroying him. but it’s like he doesn’t think he has other options. he’s given up on his own life, he’s given up on his own liberation, he’s given up on anything that isn’t ‘make sure arthur doesn’t die.’

i hate that this is all he thinks his life can be. i hate that he thinks this is all he was fashioned for. merlin at his core has always been such a happy, hopeful, sunny person. he’s always looked at things and seen the good. he’s always been so curious, and gregarious, and loving. he’s always had a smile for everybody. but so much of that has just been crushed, now, under fear and stress and isolation.

i don’t know. this is only the first two episodes and it puts such a feeling of grief - and dread - into my heart. i worry for the future.

#the once and future slowburn #meta #long post #merlin is my favorite character #this is weird for me because i almost never cleave to the protagonist in things #it's almost always someone slightly to the side #but merlin has been my favorite from day one #and from day one the premise of this show has always been this promise:#that we are heading for the golden age #that it's going to be a lot of trials and tribulations but the reward at the end is 'the time the poets speak of'#and merlin will get to have his good ending #everybody keeps telling merlin that one day he won't have to hide anymore #and for merlin what that means is 'i will get to be loved'#all this time merlin has just been trying to get to a moment where HE WILL BE LOVED #where he will be free #and look #i am four episodes away from the end #either we're going to get to the golden age really fucking quick #or something is about to go horribly fucking wrong #and all i can say is if that damn dragon has been lying to us this whole time #i am going to find him and finish uther's work myself #merlin deserves better than that #(i realize it might be tempting to come to my inbox and say 'oh boy just you wait')#(PLEASE for the love don't do this)#(just let me get there)#(i'll finish within two weeks)#(and i'll experience the requisite relief or embittered rage once i do)#(thank you; i appreciate y'all immensely)#(<3)

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bitmiscuous · 5 years ago

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* WANTED CHARACTER : ANORA SHEPARD .

—— THEY’D TEAR HER TO PIECES , she thought . she’d be scattered like ashes in the wind — the remains of a girl forgotten . by the time that large grandfather clock in the living room announced the arrival of the witching hour , she’d be gone . but maybe it’d be better that way . maybe that aching in her chest would finally cease . maybe this madness eating away at her mind would die with her body , and she’d fly away with the angels .

——- the immortals, p.76.

GENERAL STATS

FULL NAME: anora crofescia shepard AGE: 19 HEIGHT: 5′1 WEIGHT: 46kg ZODIAC SIGN: pisces SPECIES: human, vessel FACECLAIM(s): hunter schafer, tamsin egerton, hannah murray, you get the general look i’m aiming for TAG: here, here.

APPEARANCE

pale, a little malnourished. wide, large doe eyes. wavy blonde hair. button nose, rosy cheeks. physically small, narrow shoulders, small feet, dainty hands, shorter than average. will favor summer - dresses and garments that allow her some flexibility and freedom of movement , as well as flats and short heels. due to her living circumstances and lack of sunlight exposure, she’ll nearly always look dazed and tired.

CONNECTIONS

ALEXANDER SHEPARD (adoptive father. alive)

MICHAEL ANDROSHCHUK (love interest ? annoying little brat who wont leave her along tbqh)

MIKHAIL ANDROSHCHUK (somewhat friendly, they have a pretty chill relationship compared to the others)

NESTOR ANDROSHCHUK (he terrifies her and will often throw tantrums if she disagrees with anything he says)

VIKTOR ANDROSHCHUK (protector. he seems to be the only brother who genuinely tries to take care of her, even if he can be a little blunt and standoffish)

VIKTORIA ANDROSHCHUK (they’re linked - in a way, she can feel what she feels and see what she sees in random spikes of emotions. they share a bond that will at times impact her personality and actions)

PERSONALITY

soft spoken and shy, anora was raised to be a prim proper girl and it shows. she’s guarded and indecisive, curious and extremely hesitant to trust anybody or make decisions for herself that might have an impact on others. she’s a dreamer at heart and uses her optimism to keep her afloat during dire times. self-sacrificing and foolhardy, capable of demonstrating great strength in the face of danger, and compassion even to those who don’t necessarily deserve it. anora is not, however, a doormat - she will stand up for herself and use her humanity to her advantage. she’s intelligent and resourceful, and she does what she has to do in order to survive.

SNIPPET

Anora’s fate was sealed from the moment she breathed life into this world. She was abandoned at the doorsteps of an orphanage, in some remote town, and left to rely on the kindness of strangers. She was born on an eerie July night, July the 16th, to be precise - the same night, that so happens, as a very important eclipse was to happen, and The Five were searching for a baby, a new soul who’d barely crossed the veil between this world and the next — and they found her. Or rather, Michael did. You see, there was nobody at the orphanage, it was long abandoned; The door was closed and lights were off, so maybe that should’ve been an indication, had her mother bothered to check before scurrying off into the night. The baby was turning blue by the concrete doorsteps by time he heard the small sniffling cry of a child. Seeing the child’s poor condition, he knew she wouldn’t last on her own, so there was no harm done, really... was there?

The coven was summoned, and Malice begrudgingly bound the child to the blood of the Mother, giving strength back to her body but plaguing her mind with terrors no child should experience.

He knew the child could not be left alone, she could not be left in the hands of just anybody because there were still blind followers that’s attempt to snatch her — so they sought the help of a hunter, one that’d be able to shield her from any danger until she was of age; Alexander. He took her in with the promise that him and his town would be granted protection from The Five for as long as she was safe. He named the little girl Anora, meaning light, and raised her like his own. Alexander knew she wasn’t really his to keep, but he grew to love her like a daughter, and this very love was what kept him from telling her whole truth, it was what blinded him to the fact she’d someday have no choice but to abandon this place she’d come to call home, unprepared.

At her 19th birthday, Michael returned — as promised. Alexander tried to back out of the deal ---- she meant more to him than he could’ve possibly have imagined. But there no room for argument. Michael threatened to kill every woman and child in town if he dared to break his word and he had no choice but to urge her to go with them, but made them promise they’d keep her safe, no matter what.

So into the unknown she went, forced to navigate through a world she knew next to nothing about, by the side of creatures she’d only imagined in her wildest dreams — and yet, she couldn’t shake this feeling they were familiar. The more time she spent with them, the less she felt like herself - or maybe, she’s becoming someone entirely new. That’s when she saw her portrait, buried under dust and cobwebs. She’d seen her in before — in her nightmare, surrounded by death and roses and blood. That’s when she began to understand — what she felt, what she witnessed in her dreams, those images that flashed through mind when she was alone… they weren’t own, but someone else’s. It’s as though her soul is split, shared with another, once divided and now mending into something of its own.

#† ╼ ❪ pcs. : the immortals ❫#† ╼ ❪ anora. : bright like glitter ‚ bubbly like champagne. ❫#LISTEN YK YK THIS DESC IS TRASH #I HATE WRITING BIOS IM NO GOOD AT IT #but she's gr8 ok she's amazing #she's better than this whole dumbsterfire of a family and deserves the world #il anora and i'll give u my first born if u play her

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azulirawrites · 5 years ago

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Fadrien 01

@cxndy-stxrs requested this,and I really liked the idea, so I decided to write up a draft for it. If I like it, I may end up continuing it. It's a nice premise. Sorry if formatting is weird, posting from mobile

Hawkmoth had won, Marinette realized, as the akuma victim pulled her earrings off. She quickly covered her face in an attempt to conceal her identity from Hawkmoth. Her earrings joined Chat’s ring, slipping past the sharp, animal-like teeth of the akuma’s pouch. She dove under her lucky charm, a polka dotted blanket that was already covering Chat Noir, and came face-to-face with her long-time crush. “Adrien?” She whispered, shocked.

“I should be more surprised,” Marinette could see his admiration of her in his eyes, and his smile, “but, well, you’re already so amazing.” Marinette’s cheeks heated, and she did her best to hide it by averting her gaze. “I’m glad it’s you. I don’t think I’d rather you be anyone else.” Marinette couldn’t help smiling, despite the dire circumstances.

"I'm glad it's you too, Adrien," Marinette answered. Ignoring the thoughts welling up telling her how Adrien returned her feelings, Marinette instead focused on a plan. "We need to stand up, and follow the Akuma to Hawkmoth."

"Of course, m'lady," the two of them stood up together, working in almost unnatural synchronization. They wrapped the blankets around them as hoods, keeping their face to the ground to follow the Akuma's trail. "How long do you think we have until the Akuma finishes it's business and heads for Hawkmoth?"

"I don't know," Marinette admitted, "They didn't really give away their motives," which, of course, was something very unusual by Aluma standards. Most were extremely willing to scream their motives at the top of their lungs. "Did you get anything?"

"He kind of looked like a D&D character," Adrien said, "Maybe his character died? Look for a character sheet?" Marinette nodded, it was as likely as anything else. "He's probably after his DM for killing the character," Adrien hypothesized, "but if it happened tonight, he has probably already done so."

Marinette didn't like thinking about that, instead commenting, "So he's heading for Hawkmoth?" She tried to ignore that they were rather quickly falling behind. The Akuma's lead continued to grow when Adrien tripped, bringing both of them down.

"My Lady!" Adrien's voice was slightly pained, and incredibly worried, "My Lady, something's wrong!" Marinette turned to look at him, and fear pierced her heart.

"Adrien!" She couldn't keep her voice down, "Your foot!" It was gone; Not cut off or anything, just gone. Like it had never been there. Slowly, the lack of existence crawled up his leg, pulling him apart piece by piece.

"Marinette," Adrien's voice was desperately begging for help. Marinette wrapped her arms around him, hoping she could somehow anchor him to her. "Marinette, please," she tried to ignore the strange distance to his terrified voice as he returned the embrace. "What's happening?"

"Hawkmoth," it was the only reasonable conclusions. He must have wished to get rid of them. She could feel her partner getting lighter in her arms as the spread of the non-existence grew quicker. "Please don't go," it was a useless request, she knew. She could feel him leaving.

"I promise I'll stay with you," he promised. Marinette's hands moved to cup Adrien's face, before pressing a kiss to his lips. True Love's Kiss always worked right? Her hands collapsed inward, the sides of her partners face slipping from her grasp. The last she saw of Adrien was his green eyes, reflecting a deep pain, before they too faded away.

A certain fuzziness overtook her. Was this how Adrien felt? More importantly, who was Adrien? Was he why she was crying? She couldn't remember. Why couldn't she remember? She wrapped the polka-dotted blanket around her and headed home; she could figure out what happened there.

It was early when Marinette woke up; far earlier than usual, even for a school day. The sun was just barely beginning to peer into her room when she opened her eyes. She hadn't slept particularly well; she had been upset last night, after all, though she couldn't quite remember why. It was probably nothing. Marinette took the opportunity granted to her to snuggle into her warm, red and black polka-dotted blanket. "Marinette," her trap door swung open as her mother came into view, "You need to wake up or- Oh, you're already awake."

Marinette laughed a little at the slightly awkward situation, "Yes maman, I'm awake." Sabine continued up, into Marinette's room, before moving near her bed.

"You were crying last night," Sabine showed clear worry for her daughter, "Are you alright? Did you have a spat with Luka?"

"No, maman, Luka and I are doing just fine," a blush tinged her cheek as she answered, "I'm not really sure why I was upset last night." Her mother pursed her lips, but said nothing. Marinette wished she could give her an answer, but she simply didn't have one. She changed the subject, "Actually, I was wondering, could I invite Luka over after school?"

"Of course dear," Sabine smiled, "Just make sure that your door stays open."

"Maman!" Marinette's blush intensified. Sabine chuckled, then gave Marinette a hug before descending from her room once more. Marinette made her way to the bathroom, showered, and got prepared for her school day quickly, used to a rushed morning most days. She eventually made her way to school, sitting down next to Alya.

"You're early today," her best friend commented.

"I didn't sleep well," Marinette answered, "Something upset me last night, or something, but I can't remember what." Alya looked like she was about to say something, so Marinette added, "No it wasn't Luka, my mom already asked. But I am going to be inviting him over after school."

Alya grinned, "Oh? Are you going to work on a new project with him?" She teased.

"No!" Marinette blushed, "We're just gonna hang out."

"You know I have to wonder what's going to be han-" Alya was interrupted by Marinette.

"I don't ask you about you and Nino," she pointed out. It was Alya's turn to blush. "And besides, we've only kissed a couple times. Luka's really chill."

"What a gentleman," Alya teased. The two continued to banter until class started. Marinette's eyes drifted to the empty seat by Nino; usually Nathaniel sat beside him, but the artist was out sick today. For some reason she couldn't quite place, it was almost difficult to imagine Nathaniel sitting there. "Hey girl, you ok?" Alya whispered, "You're staring awfully hard at Nathaniel's seat."

"I'm fine," she answered quietly, breaking her eyes from the chair, "I just thought I saw something."

"If you say so," Alya answered, and the two of them turned back to their notes. While Marinette couldn't shake the feeling of something being off with Nathaniel's seat, she could ignore it. The rest of the day passed by mostly uneventfully, with Marinette texting Luka over lunch to ask him if he wanted to come over after school. He was glad to accept.

Marinette greeted Luka at the backdoor of her parents' bakery. She hugged him before leading him inside and up to her room, making sure to leave the trap door open. The two quickly settled into their comfort zone with each other; Marinette designing while Luka strummed his guitar and wrote down some ideas. She was happy.

So why was she feeling like something was wrong?

#miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #fanfic #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #ladybug #chat noir #identity reveal #luka couffaine #alya cesaire #implied Adrienette #which if i continue will become canon #lukanette #angst #some angst #draft #it's good enough to test watera #fadrien #fadrien 01

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bitmiscuous-a · 6 years ago

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—— THEY’D TEAR HER TO PIECES , she thought . she’d be scattered like ashes in the wind --- the remains of a girl forgotten . by the time that large grandfather clock in the living room announced the arrival of the witching hour , she'd be gone . but maybe it’d be better that way . maybe that aching in her chest would finally cease . maybe this madness eating away at her brain would stay behind , and leave her to rot with the angels .

——- the immortals, p.76.

GENERAL STATS

FULL NAME: anora crofescia shepard AGE: 19 HEIGHT: 5′1 WEIGHT: 46kg ZODIAC SIGN: pisces SPECIES: human, vessel FC: tamsin egerton TAG: here.

APPEARANCE

pale skin, a little malnourished, wide, large doe eyes of mocha brown, wavy golden blonde curly hair. button nose, rosy cheeks. physically small, narrow shoulders, small feet, dainty hands, shorter than average, a few pounds underweight. prominent facial bone structure and puffy cheeks. will favor summer - dresses and garments that allow her some flexibility and freedom of movement , as well as flats and short heels. due to her living circumstances and lack of sunlight exposure, she’ll nearly always look dazed and tired.

CONNECTIONS

ALEXANDER SHEPARD (adoptive father. alive)

MICHAEL ANDROSHCHUK (love interest ? annoying little brat who wont leave her along tbqh)

MIKHAIL ANDROSHCHUK (somewhat friendly, they have a pretty chill relationship compared to the others)

NESTOR ANDROSHCHUK (he terrifies her and will often throw tantrums if she disagrees with anything he says)

VIKTOR ANDROSHCHUK (protector. he seems to be the only brother who genuinely tries to take care of her albeit he can be a little blunt and standoffish sometimes)

PERSONALITY

soft spoken and shy, anora was raised to be a prim proper girl and it shows in everything she does. she’s guarded and indecisive, curious and extremely hesitant to trust anybody or make decisions for herself that might have an impact on others. she’s a dreamer at heart and tends to be optimistic even in dire times. self-sacrificing and foolhardy, capable of demonstrating strength in the face of danger, and compassion even to those who’ve done her nothing but harm.

SNIPPET

Fate sealed at childbirth, albeit unexpected, was one who brought light back into a world filled with only darkness, but not one without consequence. She was the epitome of purity from her very first mispronounced words, a beacon of hope , a symbol of change for that all that desperately sought the end of bloodshed, and prayed for peace. A weapon crafted at the very same night as an eclipse took place, born on july 16th, 2000, a little blue-eyed baby girl abandoned at the doorsteps of an orphanage. She wouldn’t be alone for long — no, this child, so neglected by those meant to nurture and love her, was chosen for a bigger purpose than they could ever imagine — by nobody less than one of the very Five. Michael Androshchuk, seeing the child’s poor condition and abandonment, knew she wouldn’t last through the night. He took pity on the child who’d barely arrived to this world, with fading heartbeats and glossy blue eyes, and decided she would not be another victim of fate, but instead live with a purpose. A grim purpose at that, but a purpose nonetheless. A future weapon against the Mother of Darkness, should she ever rise again. The coven was summoned, and begrudgingly, bind the child to the blood of a rose, strengthening her tiny body but plaguing her mind with nightmares beyond what any child should experience.

He knew the child could not be left alone, she could not be left in the hands of just anybody — so they sought the help of a hunter, one that’d be able to shield her from any danger until she was of age; Alexander. He took her in, brought her in to the small church, with the promise him and his town would be granted protection for as long as she was safe. He named the little girl Anora, for it meant light, and he knew, that’s what she’d one day bring to all. He raised the child like his own, taught her all he knew, and although he knew, it could not last forever, he loved her like she was his own. This love was what kept him from telling the truth, it was what blinded him to the fact she’d someday have no choice but to abandon a place she’d come to known as home, unprepared.

At her 18th birthday, he came for her — as promised. Alexander, having grown fond of the child, perhaps like a father would— was reluctant to deliver her in the hands of bloodthirsty vampires. But there no choice, or room for argument, and he urged her to go with them, well aware there were no other paths to take, but made them promise they’d keep her safe, no matter what.

So into the shadows she went, forced to navigate through a world she knew next to nothing about, by the side of creatures she’d only imagined in her wildest dreams — and yet, they seemed awfully familiar to her. The more time she spent with them, the more her heart bloomed with emotions foreign to her, the more the blood in her veins seemed to flow with a life of his own. That’s when she saw her portrait, buried under dust and cobwebs. She’d seen her in before --- in her nightmare, surrounded by death and roses and dirt. That’s when she began to understand — what she felt, what she witnessed in her dreams, even those vague memories that nibbled at her brain when she was alone… They were not her own. Her body was divided, but her heart — her heart was her own. And she’d not allow anybody to taint it.

#anyways i love my girl & somebody better give her to me :T #† ╼ ❪ anora. : bright like glitter ‚ bubbly like champagne. ❫#open pcs.

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scotianostra · 5 years ago

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On January 8th 1697 Thomas Aikenhead was executed in Edinburgh.

This is a crackin, if sad tale, and shows you how religious beliefs can be a blight on our history.

So who was oor Thomas, a villain?, a murderer?, a smuggler?, or some enemy of the state? No Thomas's crime was blasphemy who took the lord's name in vain.......this would be comic if it wasn't for the tragic fact that he was executed, unlike the man in Life of Brian, who uttered the words Jehova, Thomas complained that he wished he was warming himself in hell rather than that chilly night walking past the recently built Tron Kirk on Edinburgh's Royal Mile. Well that's the simple story that the tour guides that take you round the Old Town will tell you, there is a bit more to it so I will bore you with a bit more of the detail. Thomas Aikenhead came from a well-to-do family in Edinburgh, his father being listed as a surgeon but more probably an apothecary, a dispenser of herbs and potions. Both his parents were dead by the time he became a student at Edinburgh University at the age of 16 or 17.

The 1680s was also the ‘killing time’ for the Covenanters when many died because of they worshipped their same god in differing ways!

That was just for starters. Sir James Stewart of Goodtrees, the Lord Advocate of the day, had taken a personal interest in the case and he decided to throw the whole lot of Craig’s testimony at Aikenhead who was arrested in November, 1696, and charged under the Blasphemy Act of 1661 which carried the death penalty. He also charged Aikenhead under a more recent act, which made it a criminal offence to ‘deny, impugn or quarrel’ about the existence of God.The prosecution papers go on to record

For Mahomet, read Muhammad, could young Thomas be an Islam convert in 17th century Edinburgh, I very much doubt it, they just needed to make an example of the young student, and he knew by now knew that he was in very great trouble and protested in effect that he was guilty only of the sin of being youthful and had been led astray by the books he had read. He claimed to have repented of his anti-Christian beliefs and was once again a good Presbyterian. In this way he seems to have thrown himself upon the mercy of the court, but there was no mercy. On Christmas Eve, 1696, a jury found him guilty. Sir James Stewart asked for the death penalty and it was granted and “pronounced for doom,” as Scottish judges were still saying well into the 20th century in capital punishment cases. Aikenhead pleaded for his life to the Privy Council emphasising his youth, his dire circumstances, and the fact that he was reconciled to the Protestant religion. There was some support for the death sentence to be commuted from at least two councillors and two Church of Scotland ministers, but the General Assembly of the Kirk intervened, demanding that Aikenhead suffer

“vigorous execution to curb the abounding of impiety and profanity in this land”.

“It is a principle innate and co-natural to every man to have an insatiable inclination to the truth and to seek for it as for hid treasure. So I proceeded until the more I thought thereon, the further I was from finding the verity I desired.” In truth, in a repressed society the student had just gone too far in rejecting the doctrines of Christianity calling it “feigned and ill-invented nonsense”

Aikenhead went to his death on January 8, 1697, hanged on the scaffold at Shrubhill between Edinburgh and Leith. It is said that before he died he proclaimed that moral laws were the work of governments and men. In his hand as the noose was plced around his neck was the Holy Bible. The execution angered many people for many years afterwards. The great English historian Thomas Babington Macaulay wrote an account of the hanging and called the execution “a crime such has never since polluted the island.”He continued: “The preachers who were the boy’s murderers crowded round him at the gallows, and, while he was struggling in the last agony, insulted Heaven with prayers more blasphemous than any thing that he had ever uttered.”

There was other evidence of church authorities being present as Aikenhead died. He was the last man in Britain to be hanged for blasphemy.

According to Arthur Herman in his book "How the Scots Invented the Modern World: The True Story of How Western Europe’s Poorest Nation Created Our World and Everything in It", the execution of Aikenhead was “the last hurrah of Scotland’s Calvinist ayatollahs” before the dawning of the age of reason in the Enlightenment.

I thought I would add a wee bit more about Shrubhill in Leith, as most of us usually only regard Edinburgh's Old Town, The Tolbooth, and Grassmarket as sites where executions took place. I can't find out why Aikenhead was taken to, at what at the time, was a different town for his executions I did however find records of several taking place at the site, now student accommodation, but the site of Edinburghs tram workshops and powerstation, but beforehand not many know that it was the site of he gibbet known as the Gallow Lee, literally the "field with the gallows",

Bodies were buried at the base of the gallows or their ashes scattered if burnt. The most famous of those that met their end here was perhaps Major Weir, the Wizard of the West Bow.

1570- Two criminals strangled and burned to death.

1570 (4 October)- Rev. John Kelloe minister of Spott, East Lothian (near Dunbar) strangled and burnt for the murder of his wife

1664- Nine witches strangled and burnt

1670- Major Thomas Weir, the self-confessed warlock, strangled and burnt for witchcraft (almost the only self-confessed witch executed).

1678- Five witches strangled and burnt

1680- Part of the body of Covenanter David Hackston was hung in chains after his execution at the mercat cross in Edinburgh for the murder of Archbishop Sharp in 1679.

1681 (10 October)- Covenanters Garnock, Foreman, Russel, Ferrie and Stewart hanged and beheaded. Their headless bodies were buried at the site and their heads placed on the Cowgate Port at the foot of the Pleasance. Friends reburied the bodies in the graveyard of the West Kirk (St. Cuthberts). The heads were retrieved, placed in a box and then buried in garden ground at Lauriston. They lay there until 7 October 1726 when the then owner, Mr Shaw, had them exhumed and reburied near the Martyrs' Monument in Greyfriars Kirkyard.

1697 (8 January)- Thomas Aikenhead, a 19-year-old theology student at Edinburgh University became the last person to be executed under Scotland's blasphemy laws (and the last in Britain to be executed for that crime).

1752 (10 January)- Norman Ross, a footman, hanged for the murder of Lady Baillie, sister of Home, Laird of Wedderburn. The body was left to hang in a gibbet cage "for many a year" and became a local ghoulish tourist attraction.

Post mid 18th Century the Nor’ Loch was drained and the city expanded to the north by the building of the New Town with stone quarried from nearby Craigleith quarry. In such building sand was needed to add to the lime mortar and Gallow Lee proved to be just what was needed. The owner of Gallow Lee charged the builders to cart away the sand, containing the ashes and other remains of thousands of victims. The sandy mound of the Gallow Lee has gone I wonder how many New Town residents are aware that the very fabric of their building is bound together with the remains of these poor women convicted of being witches, covenanters and criminals?

#scotland #scottish #history #blasphemy #execution #zealots #religious history #leith

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mmogame · 4 years ago

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The Best Guide of Fishing in WOW Classic

Fishing is the second occupation, which allows players to fish various objects, mainly fish, from water or lava in rare cases.

Most fish can be eaten directly or cooked to improve their regeneration quality. Improving fishing and cooking skills together can provide excellent synergy. Fish is also valuable in auction houses. Despite the low income, the money earned may be insignificant, and those skilled in the work will catch rare and fascinating fish.

Upgrading fishing can take a long time, because you will be limited by the speed at which you can catch the fish each time you mold, rather than the mold time of other professional recipes. It is best to level it when you are leveling and want to change your pace, or if you want to reach level 60, you should wait until you reach the highest level.

Please note that when you are fishing leveling, there will be a lot of fish that can be used for leveling cooking. If you plan to do this, please don't sell the fish, but put it in the bank.

Fishing instructors and where to find them

It is possible to learn fishing from any trainer, but only through world of warcraft classic gold and tasks can the fishing level be raised above the skill level 150. For the first two ranks (apprentice and traveler), you can learn them from the following trainers.

Alliance Fishing Trainers: Androl Oakhand — Teldrassil Arnold Leland — Stormwind City Astaia — Darnassus Brannock — Feralas Donald Rabonne — Hillsbrad Foothills Grimnur Stonebrand — Ironforge Harold Riggs — Wetlands Lee Brown — Elwynn Forest Matthew Hooper — Redridge Mountains Paxton Ganter — Dun Morogh Stuart Fleming — Wetlands Warg Deepwater — Loch Modan

Horde Fishing Trainers: Armand Cromwell — Undercity Clyde Kellen — Tirisfal Glades Kah Mistrunner — Thunder Bluff Katoom the Angler — The Hinterlands Kil'Hiwana — Ashenvale Killian Sanatha — Silverpine Forest Kilxx &mdash The Barrens Lau'Tiki — Durotar Lui'Mala — Desolace Lumak — Orgrimmar Uthan Stillwater — Mulgore Wigcik — Stranglethorn Vale

Expert Fishing and How to Learn It

Expert Fishing can be learnt after reaching character Level 20 and Fishing skill 125. It extends the skill level cap to 225 and can only be learnt by buying the book Expert Fishing - The Bass and You from Old Man Heming in Stranglethorn Vale. The book costs 1 gold.

He also sells a variety of Fishing supplies, including Strong Fishing Pole, which grants an additional 5 Fishing skill and the Aquadynamic Fish Attractor Icon Aquadynamic Fish Attractor, which increases your skill by 100 for 5 minutes.

Phishing experts and learning methods

After reaching character level 20 and fishing skill 125, you can learn expert fishing. It raises the upper limit of skill level to 225, and can only learn from the book "Expert Fishing-Bass and You" from Heming, the old man of Stranglethorn Vale. This book is worth 1 gold.

He also sells a variety of fishing supplies, including "powerful fishing rods", which can grant 5 additional fishing skills, and "Aquadynamic Fish Attractor" icon Aquadynamic Fish Attractor, which can increase your skills by 100 in 5 minutes.

Artisan fishing and its learning method

Only after reaching level 35 characters and level 225 fishing skills can you learn Artisan Fishing. To learn this skill, you need to visit Nat Pagle southwest of Dustwallow Marsh Theramore.

He will give you the task of Nat Pagle, Angler Extreme, and ask you to catch up with Feralas Ahi Icon (Feralas Ahi Icon) ), Misty Reed Mahi Mahi (Misty Reed Mahi Mahi) Misty Reed Mahi Mahi (Smith's Striker Icon) Sar'theris Forward Blue Sailfin Icon Savage Coast Blue Sailfin. These are rare fishes and can only be caught in this mission. They do not have named pools and can only capture them randomly from specific waters.

Feralas Ahi-To catch this fish, you will need to go to the small pool southeast of Dire Maul. This area is called the Verdantis River. The hazy reed Mahi Mahi-to catch this fish, head to the southern bank of the Swamp of Sorrows, to the southeast of the Atahaka Temple. You should stand in the water instead of on a rock on the beach to avoid reuniting the murlocs. This area is called the hazy reed chain. Sar'theris Striker-To catch this fish, you should head south of Shadowprey village in Desolace on the east coast. This area is called Sar'theris Strand. Salage Coast Blue Sailfin-Go to Grom'gol base camp in Stanglethorn Vale, then move south to the mouth of the river. You should fish along the coast here. This area is called the Barbarian Coast.

There are many fish that are valuable when they are caught, or can only be caught under certain circumstances. You should almost never sell fish to sellers because it is valuable to them, but players who have cheap wow classic gold can use them in many ways.

#wow classic

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cynthiapatelbiz · 4 years ago

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Smart Travel Organiser Methods - Some Questions To Consider

Were you searching for information on Travel Planner?

Have A Safe And Fun Trip With These Travel Tips

Whether you are going to be traveling for business purposes or for pleasure, there are things that can be done to help ensure that your trip goes more smoothly. The purpose of this article is to give you a number of tips that will help you to have a pleasant trip.

If you are worried about traveling with a large carry-on bag, plan ahead. Airlines usually board in groups of five or ten rows, so pick a seat in row 11 or 21, not row 19. Also, as soon as the airline calls the seat block ahead of you, go get in line. This way you're waiting at the front instead of the back.

Take an extra debit card with you while traveling. Things sometimes get lost on long trips. If you can, keep an extra debit card handy. Having too much cash on hand is often a bad idea. An extra debit card is much less risky and far easier to keep track of.

If you choose to purchase travel insurance before going on a trip, you would do well to buy it from an independent source. Let's say you book a cruise and are offered travel insurance from the cruise company. Since you are essentially buying protection against the cruise line's own mistakes/accidents, it makes more sense to purchase your insurance from an outside source than to rely on the potential cause of your future claim as your insurance provider.

As you make your travel arrangements, consider renting a vacation home from the residence's owners. There is a large selection of properties online, and owners are usually very willing to negotiate the price of the home. At a hotel, the employees can't always authorize those types of changes to the rate. Always ask for references and make sure that you look at a lot of pictures of the home before you book your vacation.

Shopping for airline tickets online isn't always the best deal. In general, you will find the same price by buying online as you will from the airline itself or from agencies. At times you can find great airline deals online but they are limited and contain restrictions. If you don't mind the limits, buying your tickets online may be for you.

When you're taking a trip that requires a passport or any type of paperwork for that matter, make sure that you have a second copy available. Go to your local photocopy shop and make a copy of all of your documents. This is a great way to stay safe, even if you lose your original documents or if they are stolen.

To wear adapted clothes while traveling, look up the weather in advance. Remember that you might not be used to extreme heat or cold if you live in a place with a mild climate. Bring various clothes with you and do not hesitate to buy new clothes in local stores.

If you are in a country where it is recommended to drink bottled water, do not forget to use that same bottled water for everything. Brushing your teeth with the tap water could inadvertently allow the bacteria to get into your system, which can make you sick. Use the bottled!

The information from this article will help you plan a trip of a lifetime. The best wisdom you can employ is too just travel with ease and roll with the punches.

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Travel sector angry at Grant Shapps' 'misleading' advice against holidays

Transport secretary’s warning not to book holidays in the UK or abroad because of Covid puts jobs at risk and confuses tens of thousands of UK holidaymakers, say industry bosses

Last modified on Wed 10 Feb 2021 17.09 GMT

The much-anticipated great British summer may have been greatly exaggerated, if comments made on Wednesday by transport secretary Grant Shapps are anything to go by.

Just weeks after cabinet colleague Matt Hancock suggested that 2021 would be a bumper year for British holidays, and revealed he’d booked his own in Cornwall, Shapps advised against booking any sort of trip, in the UK or abroad. Speaking on Radio 4’s Today programme, he said: “On the shrinking chance that there is anybody listening to this interview at this stage, and thinking of booking a holiday under the current circumstances … please don’t go ahead and book holidays for something which, at this stage, is illegal to actually go and do, whether it’s here or abroad.”

His comments have angered the travel industry, which is fighting for its survival. The Country Land and Business Association (CLA), which represents 5,000 rural tourism businesses, said many of its members face ruin.

The CLA’s director of external affairs Jonathan Roberts added that 300,000 jobs were at risk. “Government has been telling us we can look forward to a great British summer, but now says we mustn’t book any holidays at all,” he said. “This mixed messaging risks confusing members of the public and damaging rural tourism businesses, which are in dire need of some good news.”

https://www.theguardian.com/travel/2021/feb/10/travel-sector-angry-shapps-misleading-advice-against-covid-holidays

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