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miss-wanna-write · 2 years ago

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im making bad decisions so buckle in.

A Non-Comprehensive List of Fun or Speculatory Milgram What If’s/Character Beliefs

i would like to credit @abyssalressentiment for helping build off or just listening to some of the more non-sense ones. also I’m [read more]ing this after Yuno’s.

Note: This was all made based only on the videos on the official youtube channel and some of their comments. If contradictory evidence is found in their drama’s or q&a’s, I have not read them and am not aware of it.

Haruka

he’s perfect, he’s diseased, he’s got nothing right going on and i want to see what he fucks up next.

Es is channeling my energy when they tell Haruka to try murdering them. let us fall together hand in unlovable hand :heart_eyes:

i’m literally so entrapped by the imagery in his mv’s that i cannot focus on theories. i’ve voting without logic for this one, girlies.

Yuno

i don’t actually have a lot of thoughts about Yuno, but i am very compelled by zenchizennou’s analysis on umbilical (link is to the post)

my takes are gonna be v pedestrian, lining up with a lot of others. compensated dating, an unexpected pregnancy, maybe a botched extortion either on her side or by someone who discovered her afterschool job, or maybe a bad client idk.

Fuuta

i wanna bully him so badly,,, he kinda deserves it,,,

okay, he is another one i have very little on because i completely misread his mv, initially. i thought he was so terminally online he deluded himself into seeing game overlays, and was in a fit of disconnect when he murder someone. i know, not even close to reality.

he’s just, so straight forward? and honestly, the guilty verdict was a better choice 1st round, cause i don’t doubt he’d have joined Kotoko in beating people up, or maneuvered her to better beat people up, if voted innocent.

i will say it now, if Mu doesn’t wow me with her second song, i’m going to vote her guilty.

crazy theory that makes no sense, incoming: what if Mu’s song isn’t chronological? what if she was bullied after she murdered the girl, and everyone knows she murdered that girl, but Mu didn’t get charged because we all know police forces be corrupt af and highly bribable.

listening to Es’s version of Afterpain really shows how Mu is twisting her words. as i’ve seen someone say before, she says sorry so you’re obligated to forgive her. if you don’t, she tried, you’re the one who won’t accept it. can’t you see that Mu is the one really in pain? despicable (mildly impressed)

Shidou

probably worked in palliative care, facing the stress and tears and anger of everyone he had to break the bad news to, until it got too much, of watching everyone he took care of fading and suffering and dying before his eyes until it got too much and he took drastic measures as...

an angel of death. maybe it started out as a genuine thing, where he would offer the service to terminal patients, but then snowballed until he would do it as punishment or just because, or maybe it was always retalitory because of the stress caused by dealing with patients families. i really can’t stop thinking about the dude whos DABDA reaction was Anger, at Kirisaki-sensei... okay no calling Shidou that sounds weird af. back to informality.

Japan doesn’t have any formal euthenasia laws, and the two doctors who were tried for it, one case passive (i.e. cutting off life support) one active (i.e. injection), were both found guilty of having caused death, so no matter why or how he did it Shidou would probably be a murderer for it.

i also think he engages in illegal organ harvesting, but in a way that, once you die he’ll harvest any viable organs regardless of your donor status card.

he also gives me the vibes of knowing he’s wrong, but either knowing he can’t stop, or fearing he can’t stop, which is why he wants to be found guilty.

Mahiru

i think her relationship was abusive on both sides. her reaction to the guilty verdict does not... make me feel comfortable. it’s not like Amane’s where she fell further into her beliefs, at least not in the same sense, but... she was treated cruelly and is reaffirming her love.

this is the easist for a q&a, or voice line, to contest, but it makes sense for why she was in the birdcage too, if she was in a physically abusive relationship.

Kazui

i have, what i like to refer to as my “apropose of canon” what if of, what if Kazui is a professional killer (maybe a honeypot *wink wonk*), and Hinako was originally supposed to be his target but then he fell in love. this has no reason except “professional killer au romance story”

Amane

there was never a right choice during her first vote. if we voted “innocent”, it would re-affirm the teachings instilled in her, when we voted “guilty” we subjected her to the same torment her ‘guardians’ probably did.

so her lines during the lineup in Undercover confirmed two things for me. 1) her cult’s faith healing was most likely a two sided belief thing, both the healer and the healed must believe for it to work. pretty standard typical stuff. 2) a broken promise is only logically followed by death. “cross my heart and hope to die” stuff.

the brainwashing really got her... i hope she gets help, and also doesn’t murder Shidou. please don’t kill Shidou, Amane. if you do Kotoko’s gonna murder someone for real and i have hope for her.

Mikoto

amazing what if: Mikoto’s DID affects the MV’s, not to a major extent, but to the extent that he (or rather, one of his alters) is aware of what’s happening. my bet’s on Green, but Red could be a possibility. Jackalope did say he doesn’t know how DID will affect Milgram.

piggybacking off of the theories that Mikoto has two alters, identifiable by a Red tint and Green tint, as opposed to the core’s blue tint, and will be refered to by colours as opposed to Blue who as the (presumed) core will just be called Mikoto, i will point out something that is very obvious, and probably not something ground breaking.

RGB is the colour spectrum used in light, maybe meaning that if we want to really see Mikoto for all he is, we need to consider every part of him as him. you must consider all motives, regardless of which part of him hosts them, with out that you have a tinted view, and if you don’t consider any of them, you’ve black out your sight.

adding a caveat that i do not have any formal learning in regards to DID and any observations i make are to be taken with a grain of salt and are not meant to offend.

Kotoko

another i am voting guilty, because hoo boy. i admit i may be slightly trying to play 5D chess to have the most people survive, but this is also because she needs humility, just like how Fuuta needs it.

both Ace and I agree that Kotoko didn’t attack Amane cause she either has a soft spot for kids, or sees Amane as the product of corruption rather than a cause of it, like the other three guilty verdicts.

also, meaning to be bi, hO BOY. only the fact that she would stomp me to death with her doc martins is keeping me sane.

#milgram #milgram theory #this will be updated some day and that is a threat!

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ibijau · 3 years ago

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Xue Yang’s Master pt 2 / On AO3

Xue Yang and the wounded boy he rescued make a deal

By the time morning came, Xue Yang was exhausted, but he was alive.

So was the rich kid, sadly.

Not just alive, but his fever had fallen a little. He was also less pale, and seemed to be breathing a little less slowly. When Xue Yang knelt next to the bed and took his wrist to check his pulse, the rich kid opened his eyes and stared at him again.

“Thank you,” he said weakly, which made things rather awkward for Xue Yang who had just figured that he would really have to kill the older boy himself after all. “Thank you, I’ll… I’ll repay you.”

He certainly was going to repay Xue Yang. That sword and the gold guan were going to change his life for good. At the same time, Xue Yang was a little curious what the older boy thought he could offer, in these circumstances.

“Repay me how?” he asked. “Do you have money?”

The rich kid frowned. Through a great effort, he managed to check inside his sleeves, producing only a very small pouch and an elegant fan that would probably be enough for Xue Yang to buy another servant, when he had his farm, or at the very least a strong pair of oxen.

“Money,” the rich kid rasped. “I think… no, I think it’s empty. I spent it all… unreasonable again. But I can… Are you interested in cultivation? I can teach you.”

In spite of himself, Xue Yang perked up at the suggestion. He wasn’t stupid, he knew only very few people had the right disposition to really learn cultivation, and most of those were already born in sects that practiced it. It wasn’t for poor people, cultivation, unless those rich folks took pity of you… or unless they needed new servants for cheap. Everyone knew that Chang Ci’an treated the disciples that didn’t share his blood as little better than slaves, and he wasn’t the only one like that.

Still, Xue Yang had always dreamed that someday, he might make Chang Ci’an pay for his lost finger, and he knew that the only way something like that could happen was if he were to become a cultivator as well… or to have enough money and power to hire one to do the job for him. Sects might be righteous, but rogue cultivators were more bribable, everyone knew that. But if he could save himself the expense by eliminating the middleman…

“You don’t really look like a cultivator,” Xue Yang pointed out, mostly to tease. “And if you’re one, you’re a bad one, getting almost killed and all. Doesn’t sound like you’d make a very good teacher.”

Again, the rich kid frowned. This time, he put a hand on his stomach, a little under where his navel would be.

“Ah… I’m good enough for a golden core, at least,” he sighed. “I… I can’t make you an immortal, that’s certain. But… but if you have the basics down, then a real sect could take you on. They… most of them, they like when part of the job has been done for them.”

“Are you part of a sect?”

The rich kid pinched his lips, staring at Xue Yang for a moment before slowly nodding.

“Can you get me into your sect?” Xue Yang asked. “Then I’d get a proper shizun right away, it’d be better.”

“Not… Not an option. It’s… they’re gone. Everyone's gone, I think.”

“Killed by the Wen?” Xue Yang guessed. He didn’t know a lot about the details of that Sunshot Campaign, nor did anyone who wasn’t a cultivator, but he’d heard rumours that the Wen had slaughtered some of the other sects and that had started it all. But to his surprise, the rich kid shook his head, wincing at his own movement.

“I am a Wen,” he confessed in a low voice. “I… I’m Wen Chao. I have to be.”

Xue Yang looked at the rich kid with wide shocked eyes. Even he knew the name Wen Chao, the second son of Wen Ruohan. Some people said Wen Chao was the one who’d caused the war to start by attacking another sect that had had more allies than he’d realised. More importantly, some people, a lot of people, said that Wen Chao had died about halfway through the war, or even earlier than that.

“You don’t seem too sure of yourself,” Xue Yang remarked with what he thought was great tact.

The alleged Wen Chao blinked a few times, looking worried.

“I’m… I have to be… it makes sense, it’s the only thing that… Everything is so… I can’t make sense of things, but this, it makes sense, it’s the only thing… I have to be, I have to… my head hurts. Can, Can I have something to drink?”

There was a well behind the little house, from which Xue Yang was able to draw water. It didn't smell of anything, and he couldn't see any bugs in it, so it had to be clean enough. The rich kid eagerly drank some, and then passed out again, his fever having returned somewhat.

Xue Yang hesitated. He looked at that sword he'd taken from the older boy, already stained with blood, then at the other boy's face, and sighed. It was a risk, trusting that rich kid, and one he probably shouldn't have taken, not when murder was such a clean and easy option, but…

But even Xue Yang had dreams, and he just couldn’t pass this slim chance of becoming a cultivator.

Although he had little experience taking care of others, Xue Yang did his best in the days that followed. He made sure the rich kid drank plenty, to compensate for what his fever made him sweat, and made him eat a little whenever he woke up, so he'd have strength to heal. For an ordinary person it probably wouldn't have been enough, but cultivators were different. After four days, the rich kid no longer had a fever and although he remained weak, he started being able to sit up and talk.

"Thank you for taking care of me," he told Xue Yang when he was well enough to chat.

Xue Yang, sitting cross-legged next to the bed, shrugged.

"I just did it because you said you'd teach me cultivation. You better not back down on that."

The rich kid pinched his lips, his eyes glancing to the sword that never left Xue Yang now. He then smiled quite peacefully.

"I'll teach you everything I know," the rich kid promised. "But if you're not made for it, it won't do you any good. Give me your hand a moment, so I can check."

Without hesitation, Xue Yang gave his left hand, the right one firmly on the sword's hilt. The rich kid glanced over his missing finger without comment, and inspected his wrist a moment before gently sending some energy through Xue Yang's body. He then gasped in surprise.

"Oh, you'll be good at this if you put in the effort! With a student like you, even I should manage to be a teacher."

He sounded relieved, sincerely so, as if he'd been worried about his capacity to keep his promise. Of course, it was probably just because he realised that Xue Yang, while younger and not a cultivator, wasn't above trying to kill him if he weren't useful enough.

"What's your name?" the rich kid asked.

"I'm Xue Yang. What's yours?"

"I'm Wen Chao. But a disciple should call his master shizun, right? Not that I'm asking you to!" Wen Chao quickly added, glancing at the sword again. "Call me whatever you like, I guess."

“Are you really Wen Chao?” Xue Yang asked. “I’d heard both of Wen Ruohan’s sons had died.”

Wen Chao frowned, his face darkening as he gave that question more consideration than anyone should have done upon being asked to confirm their identity. If he was merely lying, then he wasn’t very good at it.

“Everything is a little confused right now,” Wen Chao admitted, closing his eyes with a pained grimace. “I can’t… I can’t be sure. But I remember… it makes sense. I am from an affluent cultivation family, I know that, know it for sure. I’m a second son, and not… not very favoured by my family. They think… no, they know that my older brother is miles above me in terms of skills. He’s the one everyone likes, with good reasons. And there’s that sword… it’s a Wen sword, I know it is and I had it in hand after… after…”

He paused and licked his lips, closing his eyes tighter while hunching his shoulders.

“It’s the only weapon I had on me, after he attacked me,” he whispered. “That man… I don’t know who, but he hated me, wanted me dead. I know that. Almost did. Almost killed me. It was… I don’t know how I escaped. And I… I think it was about the war.”

Wen Chao reopened his eyes, gazing into the distance.

“Yes, it was about the war,” he said, shivering. “I just know that. I had to die, so the victory could be complete. He needed me gone. So I’m a rich second son of the Wen sect, whose survival could compromise the success of the Sunshot Campaign… who else could I be but Wen Chao?”

Feeling a reaction might be expected of him, Xue Yang shrugged. He didn’t know a lot about the sons of Wen Ruohan, aside from the sort of things that everyone knew. They were spoiled, and they were cruel, one had died at the hands of the terrifying Nie Mingjue who’d put his head on display, the other had… disappeared. Just vanished. There hadn’t even been a body to show off, apparently, because it had been too badly damaged.

All things considered, that was a very odd thing, wasn’t it?

Xue Yang looked carefully at his new teacher. He could well have been a Wen. He did have a northern look to him, so it wasn’t so far-fetched for him to be from that sect. And with all that gold on him… it made some amount of sense. Enough to give him the benefit of the doubt, at least until his memory returned.

“Fine then, shizun,” Xue Yang said. “I guess you’ve got to know better than me. Now, give me a lesson in cultivation. Or are you too tired?”

Wen Chao, who had opened his mouth to protest, quickly closed it again and shook his head with a thin smile.

“No, I’m sure I can handle at least a little.”

Xue Yang grinned, and prepared to listen attentively.

His teacher had better be good and his own progress had better be fast, because between the two of them, Xue Yang was the one with a sword now.

#nie huaisang #xue yang #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes #nhs is wc au

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shijiujun · 4 years ago

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WHY YOU SHOULD WATCH MISS S | 旗袍美探

OKAY FINALLY ANOTHER REPUBLICAN ERA DETECTIVE SHOW THAT LOOKS FUN AF AND HAS ALL THE NICE COSTUMES IN IT!!!

Summary: Su Wenli is a rich af lady that just returned from Paris in the first episode, and she chances upon a mystery immediately at the docks where she meets Luo Qiuheng, the cool-headed, tall, handsome af lead detective at the central police station (there’s a name for this, but I can’t remember). Her inquisitive nature leads her to butt into like the case immediately, and throughout all the cases she and LQH fall in love!!! Despite LQH going like “why is she here again” for the first few episodes.

Subplot: Su Wenli’s younger sister disappeared 20 years ago, and the man suspected of the crime was put in prison but no body was ever found so he’s also trying to appeal to get out after so many years, so I guess they’ll find out what happened to her sister.

Where to watch: NO SUBS - Duboku.co and any other Chinese streaming sites tbh, I’d recommend kankanwu but a user told me it’s a problematic site for them so do proceed with caution as always | SUBS - WeTV I suspect has it because the official platform for the show is Tencent

Broadcast schedule: 34 episodes, APPARENTLY 2 episodes daily from Sundays to Fridays, 1 episode on Saturdays

Here are the pros of the show:

A+++++ COSTUMES!!! AND SETS! Okay not gonna lie the CGI is a little off at some parts BUT the costumes are frickin lovely. SWL (Miss S) rocks both European-style and Chinese-style outfits, and she has ALL THE HATS, ALL THE DRESSES, and gosh when she’s in the qipao even LQH is like whoa wow what a goddess (not that he says it but he’s a little dazed for a bit) - She has a GORGEOUS BLUE CAPE THAT I WOULD LIKE TO STEAL!!!

The cases aren’t overly complicated and it’s pretty easy to guess who the possible murderers can be, but we’re in this for more than just the cases

GAO WEI GUANG!!! Jfc, my Dijun is back!!!! And he’s got that cool, cold, stoic feel about him BUT he’s totally bribable with delicious sweets!!!

Ma Yili who plays Miss S is gorgeous as well, that short hair cut?!!! That hair pin?!! The way she walks?! The way she talks?! She’s a soft, shameless woman and I LOVE THAT.

GWG and MYL have chemistry in this one.

The camera work is hilarious?!! Usually I hate the cliche romance movements like bridal-style lifting at inopportune times but THIS ONE THE TIMING IS HILARIOUS, SPOT ON, and very romantic

There’s a gay couple in the episode 5 case and they’re being blackmailed but they’re kind of out which is pretty amazing considering the Republican era XD

CHARACTERS!!!

SU WENLI - GORGEOUS, RICH SUGAR MOM (IDEK WHERE HE MONEY COMES FROM IT SEEMS LIKE SHE PRINTS THEM OUT OF THIN AIR)

Honestly, she’s been back a total of like less than a week before she adopts THREE PEOPLE. A servant from the family where the first murder happened at, and two young men who were about to make trouble but were accosted (hired) by her as her chauffeurs. She’s shameless, knows exactly how to pout and bribe to get her way, is sassy and takes no nonsense I LOVE IT and she has LQH wrapped around her finger

Within five episodes she has:

1. Adopted cute little Tao Zi as her assistant who now lives in her luxurious house with her 2. Adopted the two young men as her legit chauffeurs and also informants, giving them A MERCEDES BENZ FOR THEIR GOOD WORK ON THE FIRST CASE 3. LITERALLY ADOPTED a young girl who was a suspect in the second case 4. Moved into a mansion that looks like a frickin palace!!! 5. Kidnapped two suspects from LQH and raced LQH in her brand new sports car back to the city, leaving LQH and his old car in the dust

And look at her gorgeous outfits and hats?!!

AND THIS CAPE?!!!

LUO QIUHENG (Aloof, stoic, rational detective who has a sweet tooth and is obviously not immune to SWL’s charms)

GOSHHHH MY DIJUN!!! I love him in this one too, he’s all “you shouldn’t be here”, “you’re not the only smart one here”, “be good and don’t intervene on the investigation” but then SWL bribes him continuously with sweets and it’s amazing to watch!!! He threatens to arrest her all the time (and she kind of is arrested once) but he always sounds worried about her. Everytime he finds her in trouble he’ll LITERALLY PICK HER UP IN BRIDAL CARRY HAHAHA and he’s half resigned, half exasperated and a whole lot fond of this Miss S I AM TELLING YOU!!!

GWG in a leather jacket is a crime!!!

Him eating something that Wenli gave him:

And his brain cannot fathom her wealth, but I don’t blame him, I can’t fathom her wealth either. This is when he asks the single butler Xiang Shu if it’s tiring for him to clean up such a huge place on his own and he says, “Someone else does the cleaning. Me don’t clean.”

Cue LQH going ????:

Other characters include Tao Zi, SWL’s cute assistant WHO HAS A CRUSH ON LQH’S DEPUTY OFFICER SHEN, and Officer Shen likes her too AND BOTH LQH and SWL try to matchmake them and give them (misplaced) advice

Ahhhh this show is honestly amazing and the humour is right on point!!! I’d watch Gao Weiguang in anything but REPUBLICAN ERA DETECTIVE IN SHANGHAI?! Sign me up!

#cdrama #miss s #旗袍美探 #gao weiguang #ma yili #luo qiuheng #su wenli #another why you should watch hahaha

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odinsblog · 2 years ago

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I really don’t know what it is about social media that turns so many people into aggressively dismissive, Jr. wannabe lawyers, but here we are.

Do y’all really be thinking you’re hitting some kind of rim shot by being insulting and calling someone pathetic? I mean, someone here definitely IS being pathetic, probably, but…

Anyway… here in the adult world where eye live, unless someone is being dehumanized, or being racist, we try to have rational discussions. No need to try and make yourself look all big & bad by accusing someone of spreading misinformation or calling others pathetic. Capisce? (BTW: it makes you look small and desperate)

Hell, even if I were wrong—I’m not, but for the sake of somebody’s weak argument, let’s say that I am—in some (not all!) cases it is more likely that people make genuine mistakes as opposed to intentionally trying to spread misinformation or disinformation. Ever heard of the saying, “it’s safer to ascribe a mistake to ignorance rather than to malice”?

And I only beat this dead horse of an argument to death because I’m reminded of a post where I mistyped 50.0 instead of 500, and immediately someone responded by accusing me of - yup, you guessed it - spreading misinformation! LOL. I greatly appreciated the person who simply (anonymously) asked if I meant to use the number 50 or not.

Y’all really be tryna do the most over nothing.

I have also had people “fact check” and “correct” obvious (non-offensive) jokes. I know you may think it makes you look good and important, but it honestly doesn’t.

I feel like some of you out there are sO super fucking desperate to be a part of gatekeeper culture that you reflexively “correct” things that really don’t require any real corrections.

The information is what it is. Labeling things you don’t like as “disinformation” does not magically invalidate said information.

And who, exactly, do you think the railway lobbyists were lobbying??

Do you think they lobbied:

A) The Academy Awards

B) The NFL

C) Norfolk Southern

D) The Trump Administration

Are you suggesting that the lobbyists avoided going to Trump and his enormously bribable administration? Is that really what you’re asking us to believe, @thereddestofsons ?? Because that seems very, very hard to believe.

But yeah, consider yourself good & blocked. Like, who even wants to do “the discourse” with people who think being smarmy and making accusations is an invitation to rational discussion?? Y’all don’t have to do this. It really doesn’t puff you up the way you seem to think it does. Do you know how easy it is to just make a post of your own??

Anyway, have fun defending Trump or doing whatever it is you think you’re doing here on Tumblr 🫡

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Trump and the GOP put the “crony” in crony capitalism. He did this.

Remember, Republicans love deregulation. They’ll cut any safety regulation, any health regulation, they will do anything to make it easier for big business to profit. No matter how many people it might harm.

Does anyone remember the deadly fertilizer plant explosion in West Texas? Rick Perry defunded and deregulated the shit out of Texas’ fertilizer plants (pun intended), and then it exploded.

Republicans will deregulate big businesses, but regulate the hell out of women, poor people, LGBTQ people, teachers, Black voters, etc etc etc

#thereddestofsons #politics #gatekeeper culture #norfolk southern #east palestine #deregulation #contrarians

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unyieldingvalxr · 3 years ago

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A Kitchen Debacle

@honorhearted continued from X

His refusal to depart draws flashes of venomous animosity over Elsie’s otherwise calm countenance. She could not abide Ben’s stubborn insistence on derailing her well laid plot. Whatever regimental idiot saw fit to inform the intelligencer, he will face her wrath when this is over.

Whilst young Marion was keenly aware of her father’s prohibition on vengeful retaliations, especially those against the rules of war, she was willing to make an exception in this case. “What are you? My conscience?” Elsie heatedly challenges in a tone barely edging upon something louder than a whisper. “I’m askin’ ya politely ta stand down. This really doesn’t concern ya.” Her last statement contained a world of truth to it for this was deeply personal.

The reconnaissance mission at Georgetown had been outlined as a simple scheme. The orders were to disrupt supply chains to get much needed salt, clothing, and ammunition for the forces presently camped at White Bay. Elsie had joined her father for his end of the raid whilst her elder cousin, Gabriel Marion, accompanied Captain John Melton for his end.

Melton and Gabriel had been ambushed somewhere around “the Pens” by Loyalists. From the relation of the story, through multiple present forces, Elsie gathered that her cousin had been ruthlessly murdered. He’d been clubbed senseless and then he had been deliberately targeted with buckshot; all because he was a kin of Francis Marion’s. His death validated her mother’s concerns. It was also causing her father to second guess if Elsie should be this close to the war front. Francis had briefly contemplated sending her back to Pond Bluff. She refused to abandon him. Pulling a low card, she argued that she is safer with his rag-tag militia than she would be in their occupied home. Especially, given that she too, was wanted dead or alive. Begrudgingly, he caved, allowing her to stay.

Captain Jesse Barefield and his loyalist goons should be made to pay. Especially, the one known by the nickname “Sweat” since he personally dispatched poor Gabe into the afterlife. That mission is what brought her here, to this dank, dark pantry.

Elsie’s eyes lock upon his with murderous clarity. “They won’t ever know, if ya’d just leave and let me carry out my plan in peace.” Anger was far better than grief. It felt ten times more useful, like a steel tool plucked straight out of the fire, when compared to pitiful tears. “I’ve paid some of the staff tempted to rat me out quite handsomely to keep my presence here a secret, if ya must know.” The anxiety burdening his words causes knots to tangle and coil around her intestines. She bristles sharply in response to the concern his words birthed in her. He wasn’t entirely wrong. The potential for her to be recognized by the soldiers or an non-bribable member of the staff was a very real, looming threat. If that happens, the same fate that befell Gabriel would probably be her own. Elsie had been trying to ignore that. Now that Tallmadge dredged it up, it lingered with considerable prominence in every corridor of her mind. Even with the money that has traded hands for silence, there was no assurance she would not be betrayed for the considerable bounty on her head.

Staring past him, Elsie tries to reassure herself she’s still doing the right thing. Her eyes only return to his dim form through the candle light, when he grabs hold of her shoulders. “I’m gonna deliver this gift personally.” Elsie assures him when he questions how she was certain it would target the right individuals.

A scoff escapes her. “Of course I am. Who is gonna stop me?” She pauses to look him over as if challenging him to oppose her. “Sides, if ya want a job done right, why not do it ya self?” To be honest, she didn’t care if the whole of Barefield’s regiment dropped dead from the poison. The ill-fate would be well deserved. Plus, it would make taking all the supplies from their regiment so much easier.

A party was a perfect distraction for the raid that her subordinates should be carrying out now. Killing the leader and his right-hand man (Sweat), that was the quickest way to ensure chaos would ensue in the aftermath. A disruption in the vital British trade route might end the war faster. It’s a risk she deems worth taking; even if her father would not.

Elsie is about to add another rebuttal when the door suddenly jars open. The gasp that escapes her is genuine, particularly when Ben presses her into the shelving. It’s quickly followed by a sharp inhale. The unlit candle she’d been clutching, clatters clumsily to the floor. Her unoccupied hand was now free to address the unexpected invasion of her personal space.

The warmth of Ben’s breath on the curve of her neck causes Elsie to shiver and tremble. Her face scorches a deep shade of burgundy when she realizes the sensation is not entirely unpleasant. It kindles a sense of yearning, as forbidden and unbidden as it was. She can’t focus long enough to sort out those thoughts because there’s a voice shouting at both of them. The words required her attention.

Great! Now she’s earned herself a real reputation. A contemptable, disgraceful one. But at least this interruption proved her point. In her present garb, Elsie was easily mistaken for someone who belongs at this party. “Many apologies, Madam. It won’t happen again.” She mutters, ducking her head bashfully as she passed the other woman. Her cheeks glow an even deeper shade as she realized what the other woman assumed had been going on in the pantry. There was no way she could dare meet the other woman’s eyes. She might even have trouble meeting Ben and her father’s eyes after this.

Elsie follows Ben out of the pantry. Her sole, clutched hand, is still ensnared around a bottle of poison. Poison she still intends to deliver. “Ta the kitchen ta get our trays... as the woman ordered.” She murmurs in his ear. “Less you’re too chicken.” Her steps quicken as she passes him and heads for a tray of drinks. It would be easy enough to pause in the stairwell and make sure that the drinks were delivered to the proper targets.

She briefly peers back at him, half daring him to stop her. Especially, now that there were multiple murmuring witnesses. Then grabbing a tray of cut meats, she extends it to him.

#a kitchen debacle #honorhearted #Muse: Elsie Marion #this is partially ripped from true historical events about Lt. Gabriel Marion nephew of Francis #And now you can probably see why this took me like 400 years to respond to #sorry its like a NOVEL #Gabriel Marion's death is probably the inspiration behind Gabriel Martin in the Patriot ngl

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wellthatjusthappend · 5 years ago

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Here a request: Tim is a monster or a carnivorous creature but it seems human. (And Tim is in love with Jason. / Or Jason doesn't know that her boyfriend wants to eat him almost all the time.) Extra points if it is based mostly on the canon and is with angst. [I appreciate it if you decide to write it. You are one of the best writers I have ever met. So thanks even if you don't write it.]

Love the vibe from this one. Here’s my stab at it! Oh drat, forgot about the mostly canon part of this one... it’s definitely an au.

“I need a favor,” Dick had said earnestly.

Jason scowled as he led the way into the dark caves under Gotham. He should know by now that favors with Dick never lead anywhere good.

For almost as long as Jason could remember, he’d heard stories about the ‘beast’ in Gotham. Most of them bordered on fantastical, a tale to scare children into behaving and not running around at night. ‘If you’re bad,’ they’d say, ‘the beast will get you.’ Jason wasn’t sure if that was the causation or if it was just people being stupid, but criminals did tend to disappear in the night with alarming frequency.

One thing was for certain: there was something lurking in Gotham. The mangled half eaten carcass periodically found around the city wouldn’t have it any other way. Over the years, Jason himself had stumbled onto a few… nests, for lack of a better word.

Hence Dick’s favor.

“I don’t get why the GCPD is even wants to stick its nose into this,” Jason grumbled as he led his childhood-friend-now-police-officer through the dark.

“People are dying and going missing,” Dick said firmly, “That makes it police business.”

“Shouldn’t you just be glad someone else is doing your job?” Jason grumbled.

“Jason,” Dick chided.

“Whatever,” Jason wrinkled his nose, “I just don’t see why they want to do something about it now after all these years.”

“We just never had the man power before,” Dick said defensively.

“Admit it, you pissed off the higher ups by not being bribable and now they want a convenient way to get rid of you,” Jason grumbled.

“Well, maybe,” Admitted Dick, “But it is important. If it’s an animal it really needs to be put down, if it’s some deranged serial killer we need to know that too. Either way, someone should have investigated long before this.”

“Hah,” Jason said humorlessly as they stepped into the cave proper, “Pretty sure humans can’t do this.”

Beside him, Dick caught his breath. Jason could relate, even after years of occasionally finding nests, the heaps of mangled bones of humans and animals alike was always chilling to look at. Against the walls there were great claw marks several inches deep.

“Holly shit,” Dick said, pulling out his camera and notebook and immediately starting to catalogue everything.

Jason left him to it.

It might be a little morbid, but Jason had always sort of liked the nests. He probably had a death wish or something, but he often came down here just for some peace and quiet. When he was little, he’d been scared stiff that the beast might come back while he was there. Never stopped him from coming though: despite all the stories, he’d never found any bones of children down here. Not to mention the fact that no one was going to chase after him here. In many ways, the caves were the safest place he could have slept in Gotham. Plus, there were often valuables dropped among the bones that often made the difference between starving to death and living another day.

This cave was one of the first nests he’d found, and also probably the oldest. If Dick was looking for clues about the origin of this thing, it was probably the best place to start.

An unfamiliar shape caught his eye, and Jason cautiously made his way over to a new addition to the nest. It looked like a whale carcass, mostly devoured, likely caught and eaten elsewhere given the lack of blood, but fresh enough that it didn’t stink.

It must have been brought there in the last couple hours.

Jason’s heart rate skyrocketed as he quickly scanned his surroundings.

The beast could still be there.

“Dick, we need to go,” he hissed.

“But we just got here!” protested Dick as Jason grabbed his wrist and dragged him towards the exit.

“Do you want to be eaten? You said you’d follow my lead-”

They both froze as they heard something move in the darkness. Dick stared at him wide eyed in sudden understanding.

They should make a break for it, Jason decided. He didn’t know exactly how big the beast was, but judging by the size of some of its prey it should at least have trouble making its way through some of the smaller tunnels-

“Jason, what are you doing here? I thought you weren’t coming until next week?” said a voice to his right.

Jason’s heart leaped into his throat as he whirled to see pale glowing eyes- no, it was just Tim.

“Jesus, Tim, you about gave me a heart attack,” breathed Jason closing his eyes for a moment, “Wait, no we need to get out of here, the beast-”

“Isn’t here,” Tim said with a confidence that Jason couldn’t help but believe, “But by all means, let’s move to the outer caves.”

“Jay? Who’s this?” Dick asked, peering around Jason.

“You brought someone with you,” Tim said quietly, reproachful.

“He bullied me into it,” Jason grumbled, relaxing a bit as they left the cave propper, “Dick, this is Tim, the guy I mentioned earlier who’s even more of an expert about the beast than I am. Tim, this is Dick, he’s an officer on the GCPD who’s been tasked with following up on some recent disappearances that have been linked to the beast.”

“GCPD?” Tim said softly, his gaze sharpening.

“Yup,” Dick said with a dazzling smile, as he recovered from his nerves, extending his hand, “Glad we can finally meet, it’s not just anyone who can get Jason to gush.”

“I do not gush,” grumbled Jason feeling heat rise to his cheeks. He caught Tim’s eyes lingering on the color and felt even more embarrassed. Stupid Dick.

He’d met Tim years back when he’d been sleeping in one of these very caves. Tim apparently was an enthusiastic researcher or something. He knew a lot about the caves and even more about the beast. He was the only person Jason had met who didn’t seem at all afraid. Considering he’d been wandering around these caves for years and was still alive meant that he probably knew what he was talking about.

Jason also suspected Tim might have a mild crush on him and was possibly a little bit of a stalker. He seemed positively fixated on Jason sometimes, and seemed to turn up wherever Jason was with a frequency that couldn’t be accidental. Despite the uncanny mannerisms he sometimes had, Jason didn’t feel like he was ever in danger around Tim, even if he did sometimes eye Jason’s body with a hunger that almost looked literal.

“Whoa! You’re stronger than you look!” Dick blinked as they shook hands, “Younger than I was expecting too.”

“So I’ve been told,” Tim said with a private smile.

“So what do you say? What to help Jay and I find this beast?” asked Dick.

Tim looked Dick over and then leveled a considering look Jason’s way.

“It would be my pleasure.”

#requests #story requests #carnivorous au #beast!Tim #jaytim #my writing #Anonymous

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dystopian-penguin · 4 years ago

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Regicide is a two-person job - Chapter one

[Has anyone asked for a mashup between an Royalty AU and a Boarding School AU? No? Well I did one anyway.

While I actually know where I’m going with this (which is rare for writers) I am not so sure if I’m gonna go anywhere with this at all (which is decidedly more common for writers). Either way, here’s an intro/sneak-peak into an idea that has been sitting in my folder for way too long.]

Lena Luthor was not having a good day.

It would have been unnecessarily overdramatic to say it had cracked even her Top 10 Worst Days, but then again, the full repercussions of it hadn’t made themselves fully known yet. Although, she supposed being forced to move halfway across the globe fit the “life-changing repercussions” category, and Lena had no possible method to ever measure all of those.

It didn’t matter. She was going to endure the next two years of her life by making everyone else’s a living hell, as she had always done. Besides, she doubted her antics would make her last very long in one of the most well secured campuses in the world, and when she showed up back home in a couple of months after getting (very politely) expelled it would be her turn to laugh in Lilian’s face. And her stepmother wouldn’t even be able to fully act on her rage without tipping off any investors that the Luthors were many orders of magnitude bellow “less than perfect” as a family.

Lena stretched lazily and put her feet on the table, sparing a passing glance at the picturesque snow-covered mountain ranges passing by thousands of feet bellow her. Deciding that she needed a well-rested mind in order to face the many small battles that were sure to occur throughout the day, she picked up her phone to change to a more sleep-friendly playlist. As she muted her music to scroll through her options, she heard Lilian and Lex’s hushed tones coming from the front of the jet.

“…what my contacts say about her”.

Lilian clicked her tongue at that at that. “I hardly think a girl with that much security actually lives up to these rumors. Maybe they’re trying for a more approachable thought-the-grapevines PR strategy,” she answered.

“She does fit the ditzy dumb blonde type, doesn’t she?” Lex said.

Lilian laughed at that. The type of laughter only Lex was ever really allowed to witness. Lena continued through the motions of picking a sleeping playlist and making herself comfortable enough for a nap, feeling slightly bad for whoever was the focus on their conversation. Her brother and Lilian could be quite vicious about their business partners when they were left alone to gossip, and not exactly fully committed to facts. Not that Lena gave a fuck of course. She had stirred up quite a few nasty rumors about her peers herself when bored.

“That will certainly come in handy for the company in a few years’ time, should it be true,” her bother continued. “Although I do personally believe a rebellious youth would have been even better to our interests than an idiotic leader. Either way, Lena dearest appears to be yet one more problem for the Kryptonian Secret Service now”.

Wait, what?

Lena continued to act as if her earbuds hadn’t been muted and curled on herself as if asleep. It had been bad enough to pull her out of her previous boarding school and haul her ass across the globe overnight and without warning. Had Lilian and Lex really concocted even more unpleasant surprises for her day?

What was she thinking, of course they had.

“Oh, I am sure she will be a problem either way, no matter what the other girl really is like” Lilian dismissed. There was a pause, and Lena heard the clink of a teacup against its plate. “Might I enquire what makes you so keen on believing that particular source this time?”

“For the same reasons you picked this particular academy to exile her to, mother dear”.

Another pause, longer this time, then Lilian answered in a tone of subdued irritation.

“So, he has contacted you as well. I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“Oh, I can. What a stupid individual that was. But no matter, it has been dealt with,” Lex chuckled. “Unless you had any other pending business with him?”

Oh great, thought Lena. She was now once privy to the answers to what is without a doubt yet another “mysterious missing person case” that would make its rounds on Youtube conspiracy videos in a few years. If she didn’t know any better, she would think her brother planned his assassinations with the narrative of those videos already in mind.

And her family wondered why she was half-buzzed all the time.

Lilian must have made a dismissive hand gesture because Lex continued, “Good then, so we can stop these charades and discuss what we actually need to. Mother, I must admit, as much as the rest of this ordeal has been perversely well crafted, I believe sending her directly to that room might be a liability.”

“Oh please. Princess Kara might be a pretty face, but even Lena isn’t that stupid.”

Had Lena’s chair been facing them her ruse would have been over at that moment, as her eyes went wide. Just what on Earth were these two planning now? Lex’s black-market deals and criminal business practices were one thing. Every big corporation out in their happy little capitalistic dystopian society was guilty of that, no matter how much they liked to give flak to the Luthors exclusively. “That’s just good business,” as Lionel used to say.

But toying with Kryptonian royalty was way above even Lex’s repertoire, especially after their last… security breach, so to speak. Had her brother really grown as arrogant as to think he could walk in the same circles as a family thousands of years old and come out unscathed? That level of hubris spoke of Lillian’s intelligence, but her brother…

From a logical standpoint, Lena knew she would have to run into Princess Kara at some point during her (hopefully brief) stay in that blasted Royal Academy. The girl would have to be undoubtedly the hottest shit in that school, being the first in line to an empire and all. Lena also expected to be asked for some sort of report on her for Lex, so it’s not like she had exactly been planning on ignoring her existence entirely, as much as the prissy playboy types exhausted her to no end.

Okay, if Lena was being completely honest with herself, even she was curious about what the princess was really like.

She had met all kinds of celebrities and dignitaries in her short 16 years of life, but she had never met anyone from the only true royalty left in the world. And Lena knew even Lex had met the late King Zor-El only once, and as a child.

It was a silly guilty pleasure, but one that she was certain she wasn’t alone in. There was just something about the Kryptonian royalty in particular that made them seem like truly god-chosen and regal, and the whole world followed them like their own private novela. Rationally, Lena knew that “something” was, simply put, the best motherfucking public relations company in the world. One that not even the Luthors had enough money or sway to buy. She knew because they had tried. But there was still some air of magic and old-world nostalgia surrounding the very small family, and as much as it killed Lena to admit, she was as susceptible to that trap as the general public.

Even the super-rich are raised on Disney princess movies, after all.

Lena was pulled out of her reverie by Lex openly laughing and chastised herself for becoming so easily distracted at the mere mention of Princess Kara.

“Why, mother, that must have been the biggest compliment I’ve ever seen you pay her. I wasn’t referring to Lena’s dalliances, however”.

“Oh? Weren’t you?” Lilian countered with fake interest. There were more noises from the expensive porcelain set before he answered.

“Ok maybe I was a little bit,” he said bashfully, in a tone betraying just a sliver of vulnerability, like a little kid being caught with the cookie jar. A tone that Lena as a child used to think it was just for her. “But regardless,” he continued, “putting Lena in her room is simply too close. Even for whatever torture you have planned for her-“

“And here was I thinking I had made pretty obvious that sharing a room was part of her punishment,” Lilian interrupted.

Oh.

Oh, what the flying fuck?

Lena was being forced into a sharing a bedroom? Oh, that shit was low, so low. Even for Lilian.

“It is simply too close, mother” Lex repeated incisively, before Lena could focus into her seething rage any further. “She is to be there simply to observe and report, nothing else. Engaging directly with Kryptonian royalty is a risk we can’t afford to take, not with Lena of all people at the helm of the matter.”

Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, Lex.

“Well I beg to differ, darling. With the level of security and scrutiny that room is subjected to, there will be absolutely nothing Lena will get past us this time.”

“And therein lies the risk, mother. The KSS simply cannot be allowed this close to Lena. It is bad enough to need a background check to just enter the grounds of the damn school.”

“I admit the KSS might be a bit of an… overkill to our problem-”

“To your problem. I could not care less what Lena gets herself into, and especially not in such an easily bribable school.”

Lena heard Lilian open her mouth as to reply, but what followed were a few seconds of silence.

“Oh, Lex. Don’t tell me this is about you trying to protect her?” she finally said.

There was a muted silence, and Lena tried to keep her heart in a normal rhythm. Lex hadn’t really given much of a fuck about her for a few years now, there was no use getting her hopes up that he had ever been the brother he acted like when they were kids.

“Yes,” he answered more curtly than he usually was with his mother. Lilian must have had a similar expression of utter disbelief as Lena, because Lex felt the need to continue. “There are… details of this that you are not aware of, mother, no matter how much you believe to have bribed that man. But a private jet, of all places, is not the right setting for this discussion, yes?”

There were more clinks that sounded way rougher than their expensive 17th century porcelain should be handled like, and Lena was suddenly reminded of her brother’s secret (and completely pathetic, considering the family’s business) fear of planes. She wished she could say her heart didn’t feel a bit tighter with that knowledge resurfacing in her brain, but Lena was quite pathetic herself. Especially when she came to Lex.

Her brother’s expression must have put an end to the discussion, because Lena waited completely still for a long time but there had been no more words from either of them. But that suited her just the same. Deciding to give her fury towards Lillian proper attention on a later time, she decided to focus on the major bits of information she was able to acquire. Whatever it was this family had been planning to put her through this time, at least now she had an inkling of what it was. And a name. And with that name came a lead, and the very rare possibility of actually preparing herself psychologically to one of Lilian’s sadistic decisions over her life. Lena checked the time on her phone and found out she had roughly three hours for that. Four, if she counted the car ride between the private airstrip and the school.

She would need to google the shit out of Kara Zor-El.

#supergirl #supercorp #lena luthor #doesnt feel exactly right to tag kara just yet lol #fic #my writting

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tysonrunningfox · 6 years ago

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Open Flames: Part 10.5

So I want to finish this really bad, so I’m just going to be flinging parts of it out there with impunity. Also, I don’t think you realize that Festercup gets to be cute and moral and a good dad moving forward and I am so stoked, tbh. And why is middle aged Hiccstrid all cute, grow up guys.

Masterpost

( @riverrockets I see your bribe, I stare at it to feel strength, I’m a very bribable person, I will chase the carrot on the stick)

Hiccup runs into Arvid in front of the house he's been building with Astrid.

"Hey Chief," Hiccup's step-son-in-law, step-son in-law, son-in-law and step-son--Arvid, that's easier, is bigger and more self-assured every time Hiccup sees him away from Aurelia. He used to hide, slouching and frowning, hand moving towards the hilt of his sword like he needed to protect Aurelia from the very idea of disrespect, even at home, but now he's relaxed, almost smiling, broad shoulders dusted with wood shavings as he points behind him, "Mom's inside, Aurelia's at the Thorstons."

He starts to walk away and Hiccup takes a couple jogging steps with him, weighing his options here. Arvid is close to Eret, probably closer than anyone other than Aurelia and Fuse. He might be more liable to answer the question at hand than Astrid is, but Hiccup isn't stupid, he knows how much trouble he should be in for the failed betrothal turned almost war that happened out from under her watchful eye.

Maybe Arvid knows why he's not in trouble though. He doesn't know why he feels like Arvid knows things, it's not like he's ever spilled secrets, it's just a hunch. Maybe it's something in those blue eyes that look so much like Astrid's, sometimes even more than Eret's because they're never filled with that specified irritation with him that Astrid luckily abandoned years ago at this point.

"Maybe I"m here to see you."

"Right," Arvid smiles his dad's quiet half smile. "What's on your mind, chief?" He has a face Hiccup could talk to and that makes him pause. He should talk to Astrid first. Straight lines, simple solutions, no more of this Haddock web of communication death song amber.

"After I talk to your mom--"

He cuts Hiccup off with a laugh, "I'm not going to get pissy like Eret if you're here to talk to my Mom, just don't start the game where you get handsy in front of me, then we'd have a problem."

"We only do that to smoke him out of the house," Hiccup laughs and Arvid nudges his arm with a beefy elbow.

"Well, now I know what to do if you ever overstay your welcome at my place." He waves and walks off before Hiccup can say anything else, but he feels like he told a secret anyway.

Whatever. That's not why he's here.

The front door of the half-finished house opens easily on smooth hinges and Hiccup looks around with a low-whistle, following the quiet pounding of a hammer. He's unsure of the reasons behind her newfound interest in carpentry, but it's also kind of a happy reminder that once he officially hands off the throne to Eret, he'll also have time to find some new hobbies. Then again, that exchange has seemed so Thor-damned close for almost three years, but it's like Eret's more and more determined to stall.

"Looks good," he announces to the room at large and Astrid looks up with a grin, patting one of the uprights and standing.

"About time you came and checked it out," she kisses him, again illustrating the completely confusing fact that she's not mad at him, but pulls away before he can get any concrete ideas about practicing smoking Eret out of this house. "Probably only a couple more days of work and we can get some furniture in here."

"Is there a rush?"

"Maybe," she squeezes his shoulder and starts packing up tools, setting them in one of the neatly maintained bags that Smitelout loans things out in. "What's up?"

"I talked with Tuffnut and Eret and Fuse today," Hiccup starts, ducking away from Astrid's immediate glare to count some leftover nails on a rough wooden stool.

"I thought we agreed that you meddling in our son's marriage prospects doesn't end well."

"Technically, you told me that it doesn't end well and ordered--no, well, it was more like a demand--"

"Hiccup."

"You demanded that I not do it again. Which I didn't, to be clear, I just tried to foster a little bit of discussion about why they're being so stubborn."

"How'd that work out?" Astrid crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow and looking at him positively unimpressed.

"Horribly, I don't know why I ever thought Tuffnut would be a viable ally in the conversation, but it was also illuminating." He pauses for dramatic effect and to check Astrid's expression. Expectant, a little bored, impressively uninterested given how talking about Eret getting married usually sends her into hand-wringing about Fuse. "This entire time we've been operating with the idea that Eret doesn't want to get married, right?"

"I think the amount of times he's announced to his married siblings that it's an unnecessary complication in their lives gave us a clue to that, yes."

"Well, I don't know what changed, but I'm pretty sure that it's actually Fuse who doesn't want to get married and Eret is covering for her somehow." Hiccup waits for a startled reaction and gets an eyeroll and a fond, if a little demeaning pat on the chest.

"Right, that makes a lot of sense, it's great to be an unmarried twenty three year old openly committed to the son of the chief on this island. I'm sure she's loving that pressure."

"Fuse isn't you, Astrid."

"Trust me, I know." She shakes her head, lips quirking into a barely there shadow of a smile, like she's not sure how to put a happy face on about Fuse but has new reason to. "I think twenty three year old me could have learned something from Fuse, frankly, I probably would have used an axe, but..."

"Well, for the record, it appears that I was way more determined to keep my head up my own ass than our son is."

"Why do you think this again?"

"I saw his face." Hiccup shrugs, "and he didn't have any of his own reasons, he was just copying what everyone else said. He wasn't taking the lead, he wasn't making his own decision about it." He sighs and runs his hand through his hair.

It's hard. He's almost been proud of Eret for putting his foot down about marriage. It's confusing, because he has to watch his son do his best to mimic his greatest mistake...but at the same time, it's the one thing Eret is digging in on in any real way. Hiccup never thought anyone could be too much like Astrid, that it could ever be a bad thing to have more Astrid in the world, but Thor's beard, that kid is self-sacrificing beyond a fault. It's a pathology, at this point, practically a disability, because when a people pleaser attempts to keep a bunch of Haddocks and other Vikings happy, it's a threat to their life and limb.

"Ok, but Hiccup," Astrid sighs, taking both her husband's shoulders in a firm, lecturing grip, even as her voice dips kindly, "as eccentric as the Thorstons are, they got married. They did the standard courting proposal negotiation marriage route, that's what Fuse grew up with. She never saw an alternative." She looks at Hiccup importantly, gently, sad in that confused way she doesn't think she gets to be.

Hiccup knows he can't ask her to regret those years, but Gods, sometimes he wishes he could.

"As much as we fear the kid turning into me, I don't think he sees me as enough of a role model to mimic my life decisions." He sighs, "it doesn't matter, I guess, if you don't believe me, but he changed his mind, it's Fuse who isn't on board."

"Well, that's good news, if it's true," she looks around the half-finished house, nodding to herself, "I think everything is going to sort itself out."

"Yeah," his smile is a little fake, a little pasted on, but if Astrid catches it, she doesn't read anything into it. "I guess we just keep waiting."

For what? Hiccup isn't sure anymore. If Eret is just pretending to hate marriage to keep Fuse happy, then what he thought was Eret's most solid stake in the ground is actually just a symptom of the larger problem. He wonders, not for the first time, what his dad would do about it, and the answer scares him. His dad would be thrilled with Eret, sure he's stubborn and violent and a little lacking in confidence, but what twenty year old Viking isn't at least two of those. By all metrics, he's more ready to be chief than Hiccup was when he had the title dropped on him because of his dad's own self-sacrifice. And maybe Hiccup is so worried about the next volcano that Eret might jump into that he's not ready to open up the possibilities. It makes him wonder if he's putting being a dad in front of being a chief.

#eret iii #festerverse #hiccstrid #arvid hofferson #hiccup is the only one picking up on quadruple agent arvid and it's my life now #everyone probably forgot what's going on in this #i had to reread

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garywonghc · 7 years ago

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How Will You See the Guru?

by Dzongsar Jamyang Khyentse Rinpoche

Guru devotion is the head, heart, blood, spine, and breath of the incredible Vajrayana, the path of Buddhist tantra. The Vajrayana is not a safe stroll in the countryside. In fact, safety is probably the least of our concerns. The Vajrayana’s way of dealing with ego and the emotions is hazardous. The methods are sometimes even reckless. Therefore, the tantric path is the most adventurous of all Buddhist paths. If this is not an adventure, then there is no adventure.

Deciding to follow another human being — not a god, not a machine, not nature, not a system of governance, not the sun or the moon but a shower-taking, sleeping, yawning, shitting, moody, bribable being — is either the stupidest thing a person can do or the most rewarding. It is a gift to have this inclination and the tenacity to follow it. It is a gift to have doubtless confidence. It is a gift to be able to kill doubt with doubt. Not everyone has these gifts.

Nyoshul Lungtok’s student had these gifts. Once while doing the guru’s laundry, he found a shit stain and thought, “Oh, the Vajradhara shits.” But having received instructions on how a student must regard the teacher as Buddha, he immediately reprimanded himself, “How can I think the Vajradhara shits?” But then he reprimanded himself again, thinking, “Is this just me being a sycophant?” Then for a third time he reprimanded himself, coming to the conclusion that being a sycophant is just a concept, a fear. And after all these scoldings, he still followed the guru, not blindly but wholeheartedly.

Once you have started the journey of practicing Vajrayana, many things can happen, and you have to be prepared. It’s important to have faith, but it’s good to also have doubt and use reason. Often faith comes in the aftermath of doubt and doubt comes in the aftermath of faith. And the one that comes second is often much more powerful. In the end, we have to abandon both.

The Vajrayana is a path of the union of wisdom and method, the union of science and faith, the union of myth and truth, but even many Vajrayana practitioners find it difficult or don’t even think to try to marry these seemingly unmarriable qualities. For example, many apply the method, such as prostrating to the guru or offering a lotus flower, hands beautifully folded in anjali mudra, but they do so as a ritual without applying wisdom. Prostration is surrender, but very few people prostrate with genuine confidence; they don’t think, “I am prostrating to the deity who is none other than myself, and likewise the deity is prostrating to me.” Knowing that the deity and the prostrator are one and the same is the ultimate prostration.

The guru is actually like a horizon. A horizon is apparent — a line where earth and sky appear to meet. But in reality, they never meet. There is only an illusion of an ending point, a point of reference where we can stand and measure and assess. In this way, the guru is like a horizon between wisdom and method, myth and truth, science and faith.

THE OUTER GURU

In the Vajrayana, the guru has three aspects: the outer guru, the inner guru, and the secret guru. It’s important to be clear about these before entering a path that uses the guru as a method for awakening. The great Sakyapa master Könchok Lhundrup explained that the outer guru is the physical person you can see and communicate with, from whom you can receive verbal and symbolic teachings and instructions. The outer guru is “as Buddha as it gets.” The inner guru is the nature of your mind—in other words, a mind that is not thinking of a “thing” but is simply cognisant and undeniably present. And the secret guru is the emptiness of all phenomena.

The inner guru and the secret guru have no skin colour. They have no title and no seat. They have no form to be clad in silk brocade. They are not bound by moods, attitudes, or culture. And somehow the absence of these attributes adds to their value in our minds, and we hold them in higher esteem than the real McCoy. Outer gurus are invariably complicated entities because they are tangible and lovable. They have moods and attitudes and phone numbers. They are less mysterious because they yawn and go to sleep when they are tired. But all three manifestations of the guru — outer, inner, and secret — are equally valuable. There is no hierarchy.

We begin the path of the Vajrayana by imagining, fabricating, making believe, “meditating” on the outer guru as Buddha. By the power of our imagination, we see the colour of the guru’s skin as gold like Shakyamuni or lapis lazuli like Vajradhara. We may see the guru’s body with the extra arms of a tantric deity and the guru’s gender switching from male to female or female to male. After a while, we begin to see this living and breathing person as Buddha.

But this “seeing,” contrary to what you might think, doesn’t necessarily mean the guru will appear on your doorstep tanned with gold or encrusted with lapis lazuli. It means you will no longer interact with the guru as a dualistic ordinary being as you once did. How will you see the guru? The classic explanation is that interaction with the guru will be a direct experience of form as emptiness and emptiness as form; it will be a mingling with the jnanas and kayas. This explanation is not so far-fetched. Just think about how your perception of a person transforms from the moment you meet them as a stranger to when you fall in love to when they become your lover. As your perception changes, the experience changes.

By the time you manage to truly free yourself from your limited perception of the guru, you will also be free from the limited perception of colour and shape. Gold will be indistinguishable from the colour of a sponge mop. A thousand arms no longer stupefy or get in the way — in fact, it becomes almost ridiculous to think that a perfect human being would have only two arms. At this stage you stop worrying about all attributes — size, weight, gender, and so on; their significance melts away. It’s like nettle soup: once it’s cooked, you don’t worry about the stinging hairs anymore.

The guru is not a trophy, nor is seeing the guru as the Buddha the end of the story. To be happy with just that would be a contradiction of the Buddha’s words. To focus only on the Buddha would be like focusing on a finger that’s pointing to the moon instead of looking directly at the moon. When we recognise our own mind as the Buddha, that is the final victory. That’s when you become your own master; you no longer seek, find, venerate, follow, or obey one particular person or object — this is the glorious uniqueness of the Vajrayana. Without recognising your mind as the Buddha, the Vajrayana would be a defective path akin to Kim Jong-il-ism.

TWO SUPREME METHODS: THE PRACTICAL AND THE MORE PRACTICAL

The Vajrayana offers two supreme methods for accumulating merit: developing compassion for sentient beings and generating devotion for the guru. We can always accumulate merit through veneration of the Buddha, but for beginners this may be too abstract a concept: we have never seen the Buddha, and we haven’t met anyone who has met him. He’s purely our imagination. The guru whom you have encountered, on the other hand, has appeared before you within your own capacity, and you can communicate with him. You can think of him as a buddha — not Shakyamuni but your buddha, if that’s all your merit can handle. As your ability becomes more efficient, the projection of the guru becomes more sublime. Therefore, the guru is the perfect object through which to accumulate merit. With the guru, you have personal contact, a personal relationship; you can actually have an interaction. In the tantras it is said again and again that to venerate even one pore of the guru’s body has much more merit than making offerings to thousands and thousands of buddhas.

For many of us, generating compassion for all sentient beings is very abstract; devotion to the guru feels more practical and feasible. Even if we manage to generate a vague idea of what “all sentient beings” might mean, we might be able to sustain compassion for them for a day or two, but it’s difficult to feel compassion for all people at all times. Devotion to a guru whom we have chosen for ourselves is much more practicable. Our compassion for all sentient beings is always marred by partiality and projection. Devotion to a guru, however, is very personal and much less abstract. It can begin with admiration, awe, obedience, and inspiration, though they may all be sporadic.

MERIT DICTATES HOW WE PERCEIVE THE GURU

As Jigme Lingpa said, the moon has all the qualities necessary for its reflection to appear on the surface of a clear lake. If the moon did not have a shape or substance, and if it didn’t reflect the light of the sun, it would not be possible for it to appear on the water’s surface. Furthermore, the quality of clear water is that it can reflect, and when the moon and the water — wo entirely separate entities — are perfectly aligned without any obstruction between them, a reflection of the moon will appear effortlessly, without intention. Similarly, our inner Buddha has qualities that enable it to manifest effortlessly and without intention. When there are no obstacles, the Buddha will reflect spontaneously in sentient beings who have the merit.

Some beings have the merit to enjoy the reflection of the inner Buddha in the form of the outer historical Buddha Shakyamuni, who came 2,500 years ago. Some have the merit to enjoy the reflection of the inner Buddha in the form of a large fish during a time of famine. For others, the Buddha may be stone statues, paintings, a lotus, a garden, or any of the other material objects that give sentient beings temporary happiness. And those with the most supreme type of merit have the ability to see nondual bliss as the Buddha.

The process of relating to this reflection of the inner Buddha is called devotion. As long as there is the stream of thoughts, there is no end to the projection of samsara. Until the end of samsara, there is no end to the path. As long as there is a path, there is devotion. And as long as there is devotion, there is an outer teacher.

THE HUMAN BRIDGE

If the concept of the outer guru as Buddha is beyond comprehension, recognising the inner guru and the secret guru is even more vast. In the beginning, we can only form a hazy idea about any of these three aspects of the guru on an intellectual level. To truly understand the inner and secret gurus, we need a bridge that extends from one shore to the other — from ourselves to our inner and secret gurus. The only bridge is a person we can touch and see and with whom we can share experiences, who can be a reference and an example and who has the familiarity and knowledge to introduce the inner and secret gurus. The only bridge is the outer guru.

The relationship with a guru can never be simple. We human beings have a habit of hope and fear, and we each come saddled with our different cultures and characters. As long as we are bound by these distinctions, we are deluded, and as long as we are deluded, our relationships are complicated.

Through the veil of your everyday deluded perceptions, the outer guru may seem like an ordinary person. He shares your taste for pizza with anchovies but also drinks strong coffee, which you don’t like at all. He appears to get cranky when you don’t get it right. He’s a human being. But he wasn’t born in your neighborhood, so he’s exotic and interesting. The more exotic the better, especially if you’re a naive and gullible disciple easily impressed by colours, shapes, and races. The best is when his skin is a completely different shade. Then again, if it’s too exotic it doesn’t work.

BEYOND HUMAN

It’s difficult to accept a guru as “beyond” human because we practitioners are human beings ourselves; there is a part of us always looking for familiarity. We want our guru to be shaped like us and to like the same love songs as we do. On the other hand, we want our guru to be exceptional and sublime but not too exceptional or too sublime. If the guru had three eyes, we wouldn’t know how to handle that. We buy gifts for the guru and imagine how surprised and pleased he will be to receive them. At the same time, we want the guru to be clairvoyant, if not omniscient, so he will already know what we are bringing. It’s complicated, our mind. So the guru needs to serve both purposes: being an ordinary human who can make sense, and also being one who has all the skills to take you beyond the human state. The guru must be half ordinary being and half sublime being.

The work falls in your corner. You won’t have any trouble seeing the guru as a human being because that’s already your habit. But you’ll have to work to make that person a hybrid by “seeing” him or her as sublime. You have to do whatever it takes — educate yourself, habituate yourself — to see him or her as sublime. And most important, you have to have the merit and the ability to think that way. This is why we have mind training and guru yoga.

BEYOND DUALISM

While many err on the side of expecting too much of a guru — like constant worldly emotional support and advice — others reject a human guru altogether. It’s as if they are afraid to relate to a living being. They say things like “I am my own guru,” using the convenient and educated-sounding excuse that everything, including the guru, is the nature of mind. But after some questioning, it becomes clear that they don’t have even a faint understanding of what “nature of mind” means.

I’ve met many middle-aged Europeans who resent the Abrahamic religions they were brought up with for managing to infect them with the virus of guilt. At some point along the way, some managed to rebel, perhaps when they were teenagers during the post-World War II era. Some of these rebels managed to get excited about Buddhist teachings; they were turned on by concepts like “everything is mind” and “you are your own master,” and they remain excited to this day. These beliefs align with their rebellious nature and validate their resentment of organised religion. Intellectually, these ex-Abrahamic dharma seekers no longer believe in original sin, but because of their upbringing, the habit of feeling guilty and sinful is still strong. This type of person has a tendency to over enthusiastically wave the banner of inner and secret gurus.

This attitude — that the inner guru is enough — is often adopted by those whose intellectual orientation is slightly nihilistic or who are from very controlling, high- achieving families and resent the idea of yet another powerful person breathing down their necks.

Then there are others who like to be led. Even when it comes to mundane issues, they don’t trust their own judgment or inner voice. They can barely go to the grocery store without being full of doubt. They also tend to be a little bit lazy, asking the guru for advice on every little thing that pops into their heads. These types of people have to learn to trust themselves and rely less on the outer guru. They might find that the more they trust the inner and secret gurus, the more they rely on and love the outer guru.

Ultimately, the question of whether the inner guru is enough for you is irrelevant if your spiritual aim is to attain enlightenment. But there is an easy way to find the answer. If you can overcome any and all external circumstances, then maybe you don’t need the outer guru, because by then all appearance and experience arise as the guru anyway. On the other hand, if a practitioner is not able to control circumstances and situations, then all kinds of mind training are necessary. Therefore, one needs to be led, to be poked, to be spoon-fed.

To find out whether or not you are controlled by circumstances and situations, there are myriad things you can do, such as skip lunch. If you are a man, wear a bra and walk around in public. If you are a woman, go to a fancy party in your bedroom slippers. If you are married, see if you can tolerate someone pinching your spouse’s bottom. See if you are swayed by praise, criticism, being ignored, or being showered with attention. If you get agitated, embarrassed, or infuriated, then more than likely you are still under the spell of the conditions of habit and culture.

You are still a victim of causes and conditions. When a loved one dies or the life you are trying to build collapses, it’s likely that your understanding of the inner and secret gurus will not ease the pain. Nor will your understanding of “form is emptiness and emptiness is form” provide solace. In this case, you need to insert a new cause to counter these conditions. Because your understanding of the inner and secret gurus is only intellectual, you cannot call upon them. This is where the outer, physical, reachable guru is necessary.

As long as you dwell in a realm where externally existing friends and lovers are necessary, as long as you are bothered by externally existing obstacles like passions and moral judgments, you need a guru. Basically, as long as you have a dualistic mind, don’t kid yourself by thinking that an inner guru is enough. When you reach a point where you can actually communicate with your inner guru, you will have little or no more dualism. You will no longer be repelled by or attracted to an outer guru.

Therefore, the outer guru is necessary until you at least have the gist of the inner and secret gurus. When you realise the inner and secret gurus, you won’t even be able to find the outer guru anymore.

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vulpes-nothus · 3 years ago

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Cmmd//: hijak_post

While I am a string believer in the death of plots in ttrpgs, I do believe that setting up a world in a way that can be predicted is critical to player engagement. How can you do this without a railroad?

Encounter Tables

Here's a simple template that I use

Area Name

What it says on the tin, but remember to drop it in game, via npc dialogue, signs, journals pried from skeletal fingers, etc.

Weather (number of dice to roll for how long it lasts, I find 2d6 is good for temperate areas, while continuous weather needs double or triple that in d4s) (optional, most dungeons don't have weather)

D12 Weather Type

1-4: most common type for this season, both wind speed, precipitation, and temperature

5-7: second most common type

8-9: unusual warmth

10-11: unusual cold

12: storm common to area

Repeat template for different seasons

Encounter (die size between d2 and d100, encounter happens on a roll of 1, and increase the encounter number by one if the players are loud, fight, or otherwise draw attention; most dungeons use a d6 and a safe road uses a d12) (check every 2 in game hours overland, or every 10 minutes in a dungeon or lair for maximum tension)

D12 Encounter Type

Beneficial major find, like a corpse with loot, a safe campsite (no encounters while resting), a treasure cache, etc.

Beneficial minor find, like trail markers, warnings, scattered coins, discarded weapon or tool, etc.

Friendly encounter. I like wandering merchants (and my freaky dungeon merchants) but this can also be escaped prisoners, deserting guard monsters, or even just sad ghosts that scare you away from dangerous areas.

Potential friendly. From bribable guards and rival adventuring parties to open-air pit traps and ambush predators with obvious spring zones, the encounter will either leave the party unscathed or very, very scathed.

Trap or hazard, from unstable support beams or rotten floors in a dungeon to overland freak storms and land slides.

As 5, but a different type.

Monster

Another Monster

Another, bigger monster

Monster pack or patrol

Another Monster group

Either a Wandering Boss (dungeon) or a roll on the areas Legendary Encounter Table (overland)

Legendary Encounters (d6. If you can't come up with at least six, just come up with a single wandering boss instead)

The Great Good Thing That Will Be Nice, But Can Kill You If You're Rude

The Secret Region Dungeon of Legend

The Rare Storm Our Ancestors Feared

The Local Secret Order of _ (i.e. the Locals, but dangerous and won't let you visit unless you wear the Bag)

The Second Most Dangerous Monster native to this area

The Most Dangerous Monster

(with overland encounters, just copy the template set up variety with at least Day and Night encounters, maybe even seasonal, but with the exception of the Storm slot, the legendaries should stay the same; they are legendary, after all!)

(if the players destroy a legendary monster or group, cross it off and leave it blank for d12 legendary rolls, which will give you time to find a replacement and give the feel of it taking time for nature to fill a vacuum)

(if the players clear the Legendary Dungeon, cross it off and leave it blank. Forever. They found the areas El Dorado and tamed it, taking away a bit of the region's majesty forever. I hope the thirty rare magic items and fame are worth it, you monsters...)

If possible, try to use random encounters to set up future plotlines/villains

#ttrpg #rpg #pathfinder #dnd #d&d #game dynamics #rule mechanic #pathfinder: garbage fire edition

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mygoodqueenbess · 8 years ago

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Okay, for all of you who are interested, here is the translation of the dialogues between Robert and Elizabeth in the show “Reinas” (please, excuse me for any grammatical mistake I have made, take in mind that English is not my first language. I have translated some dialogues literally, others phrases I try to find the best way to say them in English, because they’re Spanish sayings. When a clarification was need, I add it in italics.) Enjoy!

First scene, in the Throne room:

Robert Dudley: Brilliant and perverse as always…

Elizabeth Tudor: Everybody believes I am swimming in the abundance (I’m wealth), nothing further from reality.

RD: Well,is not it better this way? They also believe that you are a virgin… nothing further from reality…

Second scene, riding in the woods:

ET: Once again, the mare wins the stallion.

RD: You are reckless, is not a good quality for a queen.

ET: And you too slow, good quality for a lover but bad for a rider. Another race to the stables?

RD: You’re tireless. Do you want to finish with me?

ET: Not yet … is that I love … to ride.

Third scene, in the stables:

RD: What a pleasure! What a sensation!

ET: Yes… rather better than when we were locked in the Tower of London.

RD: If we had been imprisoned together it would have been more ghoulish (worse, in a morbid sense.)

ET: Not at all, my dear … no doubt your ghoulish fascination multiplies now you are let to do it with your queen…

RD: …whom can lose me at any time if she does not make me her king…

ET: Men, insatiable Robert … they are worth only to copulate … and honestly not all with the same success … therefore…

RD: Are you insinuating I do not always satisfy you?

ET: I say men are easy to replace…

RD: How do you like to dominate… For us!

ET: Forever! (it expresses a wish that the relationship last in the time.)

RD: Any day, I will copulate with you by where God commands… I will leave you pregnant and you will have no other choice but to make me King…

ET: I assure you God does not get into such intimacies and I don’t need a king, but a lover.

RD: And the throne… and an heir…

ET: Mine? No way… They end up becoming the shroud of your…

RD: To the couple, children give reason to be…

ET: Don’t insist anymore! I will never marry or have an heir who will murder me at night while I’m sleeping!

RD: I would protect you …

ET: How? Just as you protected your wife?

RD: You’re cruel! You know I loved her… And that I was not at her side when she suffered the accident.

ET: She was very timely and you were very skilled… The best virtue of the women of my lovers is to know when to die in time…

RD: How many lovers had you got before me?

ET: You offend me, Sir Dudley! Do you forget that I am still a virgin?

Guard: Majesty, Lord Cecil wishes to speak with you.

ET: Tell him I’m coming right away.

Fourth scene, in Elizabeth’s bed chamber:

ET: Where were you?

RD: Watching your bathroom…

ET: If it takes two persons to do that, I don’t want to imagine what you would need to govern…

Lady: Calm down, my friend, if it were for him he would live sewn to your skirt…

ET: Yes… always that that skirt would lead to the throne…

RD: Why? Why do you make me pay for your tensions?

ET: What did you think of my cousin?

RD: Can I be honest?

ET: You’ve said enough… How can someone be so stupid …? My cousin has the aggressiveness of the weak but without control she can be a danger.

Lady: And what do you think about about her stepbrother, Regent Moray?

ET: Bribable, flatterer and he is not to be trusted…

RD: Elizabeth… You have nothing to fear from Mary…

ET: She’s beautiful … and apparently she does with men what she wants …

RD: Elizabeth… I really don’t understand what you mean…

ET: Decide which side you are on before you make a mistake… If she intends to disturb me I will make her unable to sleep!

Fifth scene, in Elizabeth’s bedchamber:

ET: Why do you stop?

RD: You have very strange spots on the back…

ET: What are you saying?

RD: And in the face too…

#reinas #queen elizabeth i #lord robert dudley #good queen bess

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honorhearted · 3 years ago

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unyieldingvalxr:

A Kitchen Debacle

@honorhearted continued from X

A party was a perfect distraction for the raid that her subordinates should be carrying out now. Killing the leader and his right-hand man (Sweat), that was the quickest way to ensure chaos would ensue in the aftermath. A disorganized in the vital British trade route might end the war faster. It’s a risk she deems worth taking; even if her father would not.

Elsie follows Ben out of the pantry. Her sole, clutched hand, is still ensnared around a bottle of poison. Poison she still intends to deliver. “Ta the kitchen ta get our trays… as the woman ordered.” She murmurs in his ear. “Less you’re too chicken.” Her steps quicken as she passes him and heads for a tray of drinks. It would be easy enough to pause in the stair well and make sure that the drinks were delivered to the proper targets.

She briefly peers back at him, half daring him to stop her. Especially, now that there were multiple murmuring witnesses. Then grabbing a tray of cut meats, she extends it to him.

The kitchen maid’s dismissal seemed to do the trick. Keeping his head ducked, Ben barely grunted an apology as he followed Elsie out into the hallway. Fortunately, there was no one else present in the corridor, so he seized her by the arm and dragged her to a halt within an alcove.

“I cannot believe what I just heard in there,” Ben hissed. “Elsie, are you daft? To stage such a public assassination puts not only your life at risk, but now mine as your accomplice -- we have far more important things to worry about.”

Eyes narrowing, he continued, “This Cause needs us. Believe me: I have several men whose heads I desire on a platter, but that doesn’t mean I’m about to lose my own.”

Glancing to their left when he heard a noise, he swore softly and encouraged her to continue on down the wall. “This isn’t what you want,” Ben persisted. “Elsie, my job is considered cowardly enough as it is. Do you truly wish to be deigned lower than me on that scale? Because I can assure you, a poisoning is cowardly. If you wish to face these men -- if you wish to bring true justice -- you will meet them face-to-face, eye-to-eye, weapon-to-weapon.”

Even as the words left his lips, Ben instantly regretted them. Although in his eyes there was no doubt of Elsie’s talents, there was never any guarantee of being the victor, and least of all when she intended to take on multiple targets.

Exhaling, he looked to her in earnest. He jerked in surprise once she handed him a tray of cut meats. Eyes widening in alarm, he demanded, “So we are to do this then? After everything I just told you, you’re still insisting on this madness?”

#unyieldingvalxr #a kitchen debacle #//oh man that's awful that it's true! :/#but yeah you're probably right #and hey it was worth the wait as always! <3

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