#i have been hunting this fish for FOUR DAYS. REAL LIFE DAYS.

[monolith-isle]

Petz Catz/Dogz 2 golden killifish moodboard

[beannary]

OK so I dont really like this but this 2012 tmnt mermaid au has been driving me INSANE so here are some mermaid designs for the boys (which I might change if I draw more stuff for this au) and some lore for the au under the cut!

also Donnie is ftm and Leo is mtf and those are the facts! (Donnie did do top surgery on himself, do NOT ask me how he did that underwater safely)

(just a quick note: I am using some japanese mythos for the mermaid part but I'm also being loosey goosey with it alskjdfh)

ALSO slight tw for cannibalism? or like cannibalism adjacent behavior

There is a yokai described in Japanese literature called the ningyo, a creature that is half human and half fish. Legend says that if you capture a ningyo and eat its flesh, that you will be granted eternal life. Hamato Yoshi and Oroku Saki were familiar with these legends, though Saki always believed in them more than Yoshi. Saki believed in the legends so much that he became obsessed with finding the legendary ningyo and becoming immortal after consuming its flesh. Yoshi accompanied his brother on these ventures, more out of a sense of familiar duty and a need to watch out for his younger brother than an actual belief in the ningyo.

And of course, it just so happens that the brother who does not at all believe in the existence of yokai would be the one to find one. Yoshi encounters Tang Shen, a ningyo who has been living throughout the local freshwater river system. And suddenly Yoshi realizes that Saki's quest for murder might actually come true since apparently these ningyo are very much real. So now whenever he accompanies Saki on his hunting quests, he does everything in his ability to try to dissuade Saki from his plan, and when he realizes that isn't going to work, he starts to sabotage Saki's efforts. And Yoshi does this because well he kept in contact with Tang Shen, and the two became close friends, and son fell in love, bridging the gap between yokai and human.

They can't get married, obviously, Tang Shen is fully a yokai, but they build their lives together and eventually Tang Shen falls pregnant with their daughter Miwa. The two weren't entirely sure what to expect of their child, but Miwa turns out to be a completely normal human child.

Over the years as Yoshi and Tang Shen's love and family grew, Yoshi started pulling away from his birth family, and more noticeably, from Saki, who was you know pretty angry with Yoshi who seemingly disappeared on him with no explanation. Saki channels his anger into his search for the ningyo, and it takes three years but eventually he does finally find one.

Around three years after Miwa was born, Tang Shen and Yoshi welcome in four new kids! Quadruplets! Three boys and a girl. And these four, unlike Miwa, seem to all be fully ningyo, which very much surprised Yoshi and Tang Shen (both the fact that there were four kids and those four kids are all mermaids) but hey, they knew their genetic situation would be weird and they were fully ready to hop into raising these four.

It's only a few days after the birth of their quadruplets, so soon after that they haven't even given them names, that Saki stumbles upon the home of Yoshi and Tang Shen. And He Is Pissed. Not only did his BROTHER ABANDON him but he abandon him to start a family with this yokai? The yokai that he's been hunting all this time? And Saki, like in canon, kills Tang Shen and Miwa. (Or well you know, he kidnaps Miwa and renames her Karai but Yoshi thinks Miwa is dead)

Yoshi manages to get away with the quadruplets in the chaos, and he tries so hard to establish a new life for himself in Japan, but no matter where he goes, Saki manages to find him. Eventually Yoshi gets desperate enough to flee the country, and he finds himself in New York City!

But meanwhile back in Japan, Saki did in fact end up eating Tang Shen but idk how he realizes it but he figures out that he didnt get immortality, and so he concludes that oh, Tang Shen must have been tainted somehow by her relationship with Yoshi, which sucks because now he has to find a whole other ningyo to get immortality. Luckily he happens to know of four ningyo that he would be more than happy to kill, which is basically Saki's drive to finding and killing the Hamatos.

Anyways that's all I have so far!!!! I'm trying to think about how they would live in NYC, if they can somehow become human (in maybe like an H2O just add water situation) or if they are stuck in the water all the time.

I'm leaning towards them being able to shed their fish tails if even only for a small amount of time, just so they can still be ninjas and train on land, since I think Yoshi would still want to train them to defend themselves. I think that if they can be human for a bit, they still get dried out really easily so they can't stay out of the water for very long, probably not long enough for them to go to school full time, so they still live super isolated lives. Or maybe Yoshi figures out a way to train them to fight in the water? Idk suggestions are appreciated!

They do eventually meet April and Casey, I think April is gonna be on the swim team and so she's a fairly strong swimmer (for a human) and so she spends a lot of time in the water with the hamatos which they appreciate a lot! I think maybe Yoshi isn't a super strong swimmer so as much as he tries to spend time with his kids he can't really.

Casey is still on the hockey team and he can't swim, the hamatos try to teach him but they fully dont know how to swim with legs and so they are Bad tm swimming teachers salkdjfh.

[weepingtalecowboy]

The chain ain't real… it’s too convenient

Fanfic prompt : After Link's awakening I am surprised that legend actually believes that he isn’t dreaming or

That the chain actually doesn’t exists but what if …

The hero of legends didn’t believe in something so convincing and so personal

After all traveling through different timelines with several different heroes from different timelines including your predecessors and your supposed successor fighting a Shadow link ,it does sound like a dream.

Well , the traveling with friends part at least.

For why shouldn’t it be.. it’s too personal.. too painful.

If this happens another time then he is probably just going to cry

Made worse by the fact that wind also encountered a whale god and has information about him

Almost like…

Marin….!

Wouldn’t it be cruel if he saw Marin in Wind whenever he looked at him like a child he and Marin could have had that also loves seagulls and can even become one just how Marin always wished she could

With a sister that loves hibiscus flowers

Both living on a tiny island and exploring the world

But just like Marin Wind knows the wind fish when nobody else knows about the dreaming god

Four sword palace is by far the most disturbing dungeon in all of existence

And the very much alive four is now next to him

A combination of all the shades he once killed in battle

Time can turn into a god (god flashbacks)

Wolfie who apparently was also in some sort of dark realm because he is a spirit animal like legend

But a wolf is a rabbit's biggest predator

Hyrule who is literally his supposed successor he will fail

Is everything he ever did doomed to be meaningless ?

Should he have never bothered

Is it all a nightmare.?

Warriors a knight that is pretty much embodying the knights that once hunted down legend

(Loyal to the crown and ready to kill for it confidence but a sense of entitlement )

Why ?, why is he wearing their faces,…

All at once.

Sky who is the very reason everyone is cursed and if sky just hasn’t failed then the whole world would have been better

No ganondorf

Nobody would have cursed the knights and killed his uncle

He seems like such a convenient scapegoat

The beginning of the cycle that has been happening for years

Living up in the skies

Isn’t it just more likely to be a bad dream then to meet someone who ruined your life and the lives of every hero before you.

And Wild who literally failed at his quest (just like legend would one day leave the world and then hyrule lives in ruins)

It has to be a dream …

It can’t be real,

Because if it is his pain and suffering will be meaningless

He would have sacrificed everything

For nothing

Like all embody some sort of guilt he has or fear he experienced

It is too personal

It’s his worst nightmare come true.

If he didn’t know better then he would think that his brain is slowly dying and as it dies it is just projecting such a messy and unrealistic situation like heroes from different times and places and he is traveling with them

It has to be a hallucination

Nothing else makes sense

Let’s hope he will not think that he went insane on his newest adventure

The Chain just having fun and bonding: :) “we friends, we chain”

Legend being convinced that nothing nice could ever happen to him and that it obviously is just a matter of time before it reveals itself to be nothing but a dream *thinking*: “I am just hallucinating the whole adventure and will wake up and then be happy I never got attached”

The chain seeing legend go *>:[*: “this is very rude“

Legend then proceeded to ignore his hallucinations and also ignored the food that the one that he named Wild was cooking

Until he unfortunately got attached anyway

You know what would be absolutely cruel to end the adventure with the chain getting teleported back into their timelines during sleep

And then legend wakes up completely alone once again

Nothing left of his friends

Until they appear again

But not the way he wished they did

Would be great moment for him to actually lose it and just fully admit that he hallucinated everything because surely the wind fish wouldn’t be this cruel…

Main while the chain is very concerned that Legend is not thinking that they are real yet still happy to see them

When Warriors introduced him to Marin in his timeline

It only got worse from there.

[anotherhumaninthisworld]

I understand the story of marat and his assassination event

But who is lepeletier?

Because I saw a drawing for him by louis David and I learned about his death which happen to be the same as Marat so yeah .. I wanna know about him.

According to the biography Michel Lepeletier de Saint-Fargeau, 1760-1793 (1913), its subject of study was born on 29 May 1760, in his family home on rue Culture-Sainte-Catherine, a building which today is the Bibliothèque Historique de la Ville de Paris. His family belonged to the distinguished part of the robe nobility. At the death of his father in 1769, Lepeletier was both Count of Saint-Fargeau, Marquis of Montjeu, Baron of Peneuze, Grand Bailiff of Gien as well as the owner of 400,000 livres de rente. For five years he worked as avocat du roi at Châtelet, before becoming councilor in Parliament in 1783, general counsel in 1784 and finally taking over the prestigious position of président à mortier at the Parlement of Paris from his father in 1785. On May 16 1789, Lepeletier was elected to represent the nobility at the Estates General. On June 25 the same year he was one of the 47 nobles to join the newly declared National Assembly, two days before the king called on the rest of the first two estates to do so as well. A month later, during the night of August 4 1789, he was in the forefront of those who proposed the suppression of feudalism, even if, for his part, this meant losing 80 000 livres de rente. Four days later he wrote a letter to the priest of Saint-Fargeau, renouncing his rights to both mills, furnaces, dovecote, exclusive hunting and fishing, insence and holy water, butchery and haulage (the last four things the Assembly hadn’t ruled on yet). When the Assembly on June 19 1790 abolished titles, orders, and other privileges of the hereditary nobility, Lepeletier made the motion that all citizens could only bear their real family name — ”The tree of aristocracy still has a branch that you forgot to cut..., I want to talk about these usurper names, this right that the nobles have arrogated to themselves exclusively to call themselves by the name of the place where they were lords. I propose that every individual must bear his last name and consequently I sign my motion: Michel Lepeletier” — and the same year he also, in the name of the Criminal Jurisprudence Committee, presented a report on the supression of the penal code and argued for the abolition of the death penalty. After the closing of the National Assembly in 1791, Lepeletier settled in Auxerre to take on the functions of president of the directory of Yonne, a position to which he had been nominated the previous year. He did however soon thereafter return to Paris, as he, following the overthrow of the monarchy, was one of few former nobles elected to the National Convention, where he was also one of even fewer former nobles to sit together with the Mountain. In December 1792 he started working on a public education plan. On January 17, Lepeletier voted for death in the ongoing trial of Louis XVI (saying only ”I vote for death” without giving any further motivation) Three days later, the former king was sentenced to said penalty. That night,  Lepeletier went over to Palais-Égalité (former Palais-Royal) where he dined everyday. The next day, his friend and fellow deputy Nicolas Maure could report the following to the Convention:

Citizens, it is with the deepest affection and resentment of my heart that I announce to you the assassination of a representative of the people, of my dear colleague and friend Lepelletier, deputy of Yonne; committed by an infamous royalist, yesterday, at five o'clock, at the restaurateur Fevrier, in the Jardin de l'Égalité. This good citizen was accustomed to dining there (and often, after our work, we enjoyed a gentle and friendly conversation there) by a very unfortunate fate, I did not find myself there; for perhaps I could have saved his life, or shared his fate. Barely had he started his dinner when six individuals, coming out of a neighboring room, presented themselves to him. One of them, said to be Pâris, a former bodyguard, said to the others: There's that rascal Lepeletier. He answered him, with his usual gentleness: I am Lepeletier, but I am not a rascal. Paris replied: Scoundrel, did you not vote for the death of the king? Lepelletier replied: That is true, because my confidence commanded me to do so.Instantly, the assassin pulled a saber, called a lighter, from under his coat and plunged it furiously into his left side, his lower abdomen; it created a wound four inches deep and four fingers wide. The assassin escaped with the help of his accomplices. Lepeletier still had the gentleness to forgive him, to pray that no further action would be taken; his strength allowed him to make his declaration to the public officer, and to sign it. He was placed in the hands of the surgeons who took him to his brother, at Place Vendôme. I went there immediately, led by my tender friendship, and my reverence for the virtues which he practiced without ostentation: I found him on his death bed, unconscious. When he showed me his wound, he uttered only these two words: I'm cold. He died this morning, at half past one, saying that he was happy to shed his blood for the homeland; that he hoped that the sacrifice of his life would consolidate Liberty; that he died satisfied with having fulfilled his oaths.

This was the first time a Convention deputy had gotten murdered, and it naturally caused strong reactions. Already the same session when Maure had announced Lepeletier’s death, the Convention ordered the following:

There are grounds for indictment against Pâris, former king's guard, accused of the assassination of the person of Michel Lepelletier, one of the representatives of the French people, committed yesterday.

[The Convention] instructs the Provisional Executive Council to prosecute and punish the culprit and his accomplices by the most prompt measures, and to without delay hand over to its committee of decrees the copies of the minutes from the justice of the peace and the other acts containing information relating to this attack.

The Decrees and Legislation Committees will present, in tomorrow's session, the drafting of the indictment.

An address will be written to the French people, which will be sent to the 84 departments and the armies, by extraordinary couriers, to inform them of the crime against the Nation which has just been committed against the person of Michel Lepelletier, of the measures that the National Convention has taken for the punishment for this attack, to invite the citizens to peace and tranquility, and the constituted authorities to the most exact surveillance.

The entire National Convention will attend the funeral of Michel Lepelletier, assassinated for having voted for the death of the tyrant.

The honors of the French Pantheon are awarded to Michel Lepelletier, and his body will be placed there.

The president is responsible for writing, on behalf of the National Convention, to the department of Yonne, and to the family of Lepelletier.

The next day, January 22, further instructions were given regarding Lepeletier’s funeral: 

On Thursday January 24, Year 2 of the Republic, at eight o'clock in the morning, will be celebrated, at the expense of the Nation, the funeral of Michel Lepeletier, deputy of the department of Yonne to the National Convention.

The National Convention will attend the funeral of Michel Lepeletier in its entirety. The executive council, the administrative and judicial bodies will attend it as well.

The executive council and the department of Paris will consult with the Committee of Public Instruction regarding the details of the funeral ceremony.

The last words spoken by Michel Lepeletier will be engraved on his tomb, they are as follows: “I am happy to shed my blood for the homeland; I hope that it will serve to consolidate Liberty and Equality; and to make their enemies recognized.”

In number 27 (January 27 1793) of Gazette Nationale ou Le Moniteur Universel, the following long description was given over Lepeletier’s funeral, held three days earlier:

The funeral of Lepeletier Saint-Fargeau was celebrated on Thursday 24 with all the splendor that the severity of the weather and the season allowed, but with such a crowd that it could have been the most beautiful day of the year. At ten o'clock in the morning his deathbed was placed on the pedestal where the equestrian statue of Louis XVI previously stood, on Place Vendôme, today Place des Piques. One went up to the pedestal by two staircases, on the banisters of which were antique candelabras. The body was lying on the bed with the bloody sheets and the sword with which he had been struck. He was naked to the waist, and his large and deep wound could be seen exposed. These were the mournful and most endearing part of this great spectacle. All that was missing was the author of the crime, chained, and beginning his torture by witnessing the sight of the triumph of Saint-Fargeau. As soon as the National Convention and all the bodies that were to form courage were assembled in the square, mournful music was played. It was, like almost all those which has embellished our revolutionary festivals, the composition of citizen Gossec. The Convention was ranged around the pedestal. The citizen in charge of the ceremonies presented the President of the Convention with a wreath of oak and flowers; then the president, preceded by the ushers of the Convention and the national music, went around the monument, and went up to the pedestal to place the civic crown on Lepeletier's head: during this time, a federate gave a speech; the president dismounted, the procession set out in the following order: A detachment of cavalry preceded by trumpets with fourdincs. Sappers. Cannoneers without cannons. Detachment of veiled drummers. Declaration of the rights of man carried by citizens. Volunteers of the six legions, and 24 flags. Drum detachment. A banner on which was written the decree of the Convention which ordered the transport of Lepeletier's body to the Pantheon. Students of the homeland. Police commissioners. The conciliation office. Justices of the peace. Section presidents and commissioners. The commercial court. The provisional criminal court. The department’s fix courts. The electorate. The provisional criminal court. The department's criminal courts fix. The municipality of Paris. The districts of Saint-Denis and the village of L’Égalité. The Department. Drum detachment. The seal of the 84, worn by Federates. The provisional executive council. National Convention Guard Detachment. The court of cassation. Figure of Liberty carried by citizens. The bloody clothes worn at the end of a national pike, deputies marching in two columns. In the middle of the deputies was a banner where Lepeletier's last words were written: "I am happy to shed my blood for my homeland, I hope that it will serve to consolidate Liberty and Equality, and to make their enemies known.” 

The body carried by citizens, as it was exhibited on the Place des Piques. Around the body, gunners, sabers in hand, accompanied by an equal number of Veterans. Music from the National Guard, who performed funeral tunes during the march. Family of the dead. Group of mothers with children. Detachment of the Convention Guard. Veiled drums. Volunteers of the six legions and 24 flags. Veiled drums. Volunteers of the six legions and 24 flags. Veiled drums. Volunteers of the six legions and 24 flags. Veiled drums. Armed federations. Popular societies. Cavalry and trumpets with fourdines. On each side, citizens, armed with pikes, formed a barrier and supported the columns. These citizens held their pikes horizontally, at hip height, from hand to hand. The procession left in this order from the Place des Piques, and passed through the streets St-Honoré, du Roule, the Pont-Neuf, the streets Thionville (former Dauphine), Fossés Saint-Germain, Liberté (former Fossés M. le Prince), Place Saint-Michel and Rue d'Enfer, Saint-Thomas, Saint-Jacques and Place du Panthéon. It stopped front of the meeting room of the Friends of Liberty and Equality; opposite the Oratory, on the Pont-Neuf, opposite the Samaritaine; in front of the meeting room of the Friends of the Rights of Man; at the intersection of Rue de la Liberté; Place Saint-Michel and the Pantheon. Arriving at the Pantheon, the body was placed on the platform prepared for it. The National Convention lined up around it; the band, placed in the rostrum, performed a superb religious choir; Lepeletier's brother then gave a speech, in which he announced that his brother had left a work, almost completed, on national education, which will soon be made public; he ended with these words: I vote, like my brother, for the death of tyrants. The representatives of the people, brought closer to the body, promised each other union, and swore on the salvation of the homeland. A big chorus to Liberty ended the ceremony.

According to Michel Lepeletier de Saint-Fargeau, 1760-1793 (1913), civic festivals in honor of Lepeletier were celebrated in all sections of Paris, as well as the towns of Arras, Toulouse, Chaumont, Valenciennes, Dijon, Abbeville and Huningue. Lepeletier’s body did however only get to rest in the Panthéon for a little more than two years, as on February 15 1795, the Convention ordered it exhumed, at the same time as that of Marat. It was instead buried in the park surrounding Château de Ménilmontant, the properly of which the ancestor Lepeletier de Souzy had purchased in the 17th century and that still remained in the family.

One day after the funeral, January 25, Lepeletier’s only child, the ten and a half year old Susanne, who had already lost her mother ten years before the murder of her father, was brought before the Convention by her step-mother and two paternal uncles Amédée and Félix. It was Félix who had held a speech during the funeral and he would continue to work for his seven years older brother’s memory afterwards too, offering a bust of him to the Convention on February 21 1793, (on the proposal of David, it was placed next to the one of Brutus), reading his posthumous work on public education to the Jacobins on July 19 1793, and even writing a whole biography over his life in 1794 (Vie de Michel Lepeletier, représentant du peuple français, assassiné à Paris le 20 janvier 1793 : faite et présentée a la Société des Jacobins).

The president announces that the widow of Michel Lepelletier, his two brothers and his daughter, request to be admitted to the bar, to testify to the Convention their recognition of the honors that they have decreed in memory of their relative. It is decreed that they will be admitted immediately.

One of Michel Lepeletier’s brothers: Citizens, allow me to introduce my niece, the daughter of Michel Lepelletier; she comes to offer you and the French people her recognition of the eternity of glory to which you have dedicated her father... He takes the young citoyenne Lepelletier in his arms, and makes her look at the president of the Convention... My niece, this is now your father... Then, addressing the members of the Convention, and the citizens present at the session: People, here is your child... Lepelletier pronounces these last words in an altered voice: silence reigns throughout the room, with exception for a couple of sobs.

The President: Citizens, the martyr of Liberty has received the just tribute of tears owed to him by the National Convention, and the just honor that his cold skin has received invites us to imitate his example and to avenge his death. But the name of Lepelletier, immortal from now on, will be dear to the French Nation. The National Convention, which needs to be consoled, finds relief to its pain in expressing to his family the just regrets of its members and the recognition of the great Nation of which it is the organ. The Nation will undoubtedly ratify the adoption of Michel Lepelletier's daughter that is currently being carried out by the National Convention.

Barère: The emotion that the sight of Michel Lepeletier's only daughter has just communicated to your souls must not be infertile for the homeland. Susanne Lepelletier lost her father; she must find now find one in the French people. Its representatives must consecrate this moment of all-too-just felicity to a law that can bring happiness to several citizens and hope to several families. The errors of nature, the illusions of paternity, the stability of morals, have long demanded this beautiful institution of the Romans. What more touching time could present itself at the National Convention to pass into French legislation the principle of adoption, than that when the last crimes of expiring tyranny deprived the homeland of one of its ardent defenders and Susanne Lepelletier of a dear father! Let the National Convention therefore give today the first example of adoption by decreeing it for the only offspring of Lepelletier; let it instruct the Legislation Committee to immediately present the bill on this interesting subject. I ask that the homeland adopt through your organ Susanne Lepelletier, daughter of Michel Lepelletier, who died for his country; that it decrees that adoption will be part of French legislation, and instructs its Legislation Committee to immediately present the draft decree on adoption.

This proposal is unanimously approved.

Susanne being adopted by the state would however lead to a fierce debate when, in 1797, this ”daughter of the nation” wished to marry a foreigner. For this affair, see the article Adopted Daughter of the French People: Suzanne Lepeletier and Her Father, the National Assembly (1999)

Right after Barère’s intervention, David took to the rostrum:

David: Still filled with the pain that we felt, while attending the funeral procession with which we honored the inanimate remains of our colleagues, I ask that a marble monument be made, which transmits to posterity the figure of Lepelletier , as you clearly saw, when it was brought to the Pantheon. I ask that this work be put into competition.

Saint-André: I ask that this figure be placed on the pedestal which is in the middle of Place Vendôme... (A few murmurs arise)

Jullien: I ask that the Convention adopt in advance, in the name of the homeland, the children of the defenders of Liberty, who, for similar reasons, could be immolated in the vengeance of the royalists.

All these proposals are referred to the Legislation and Public Instruction Committees.

On Maure's proposal, the Assembly orders the printing of the speeches delivered yesterday at the Panthéon, by one of Michel Lepelletier's brothers, Barère and Vergniaux.

If it would appear David never got to make a marble monument of Lepeletier, on March 28 1793, he could nevertheless present the following painting of his to the Convention, which isn’t just a little similar to his La Mort de Marat.

(This image is an engraving of the actual painting, which has gone missing)

After Marat on July 13 1793 (the very same day the plan for public education Lepeletier had been working on was presented to the Convention by Robespierre) became the second assassinated Convention deputy, we find several engravings etc, depicting the two ”martyrs of liberty” side by side.

In the following months, even more people would be join the two, such as Joseph Chalier, a lyonnais politician executed on July 17 1793 and Joseph Bara, a fourteen year old republican drummer boy killed in the Vendée by the pro-Monarchist forces.

Lepeletier’s murderer, 27 year old Philippe Nicolas Marie de Pâris, a man who the minister of justice described as  "former king's guard, height five pieds, five pouces, barbe bleue, and black hair; swarthy complexion, fine teeth, dressed in a gray cloak, green lapels and a round hat” on January 21, went into hiding right after his deed. In spite of his description being published in the papers and a considerable sum of money being promised to whoever caught him, Pâris managed to flee Paris and settled for a country house of an acquaintance near Bourget. He there ran into a cousin of one of the owners. When Pâris asked for food and a bed, he was refused and instead disappeared into the night again. In the evening of January 28 he arrived in Forges-les-Eaux and stopped at an inn, where he came under suspicion once he started cutting his bread with a dagger after which he locked himself into his room. The following morning he woke up with a start as five municipal gendarmes came bursting into his room and told him to come with them. Pâris responded that he would, but in the next second he had picked up his hidden pistol, placed it into his mouth, and pulled the trigger. Searching the dead body, the gendarmes found Pâris’ baptism record (dated November 12 1765) and dismissal from the king's guard (dated June 1 1792), on the latter of which had been written the following:

My certificate of honor. Do not trouble anyone. No one was my accomplice in the fortunate death of the scoundrel de Saint-Fargeau. Had I not run into him, I would have carried out a more beautiful action: I would have purged France of the patricide, regicide and parricide d’Orléans. The French are cowards to whom I say: Peuple dont les forfaits jettent partout l'effroi,  Avec calme et plaisir j'abandonne la vie.  Ce n'est que par la mort qu'on peut fuir l'infamie Qu'imprime sur nos fronts le sang de notre roi. Signed by Paris the older, guard of the king, assassinated by the French.

Learning about what had happened, the Convention tasked Tallien and Legrand with going to Forges-les-Eaux and making sure the dead man really was Pânis. Having come to the conclusion that this was indeed the case, the deputies briefly discussed whether the body ought to be brought back to Paris, but it was decided it would be better if it was just buried "with ignominy.” It was therefore instead taken into the nearby forest in a wheelbarrow and thrown into a six feet deep hole.

Finally, here are some other revolutionaries simping for honoring Lepeletier’s memory just because I can:

…a tragic event took place the day before the execution [of the king]. Pelletier, one of the most patriotic deputies, and who had voted for death, was assassinated. A king's guard made a wound three fingers wide with a saber: he died this morning. You must judge the effect that such a crime has had on the friends of liberty. Pelletier had an income of six hundred thousand livres; he had been président à mortier in the Parliament of Paris; he was barely thirty years old; to many talents, he added the most estimable of virtues. He died happy, he took to his grave the idea, consoling for a patriot, that his death would serve the public good. Here then is one of these beings whom the infamous cabal who, in the Convention, wanted to save Louis and bring back slavery, designated to the departments as a Maratist, a factious, a disorganizer... But the reign of these political rascals is finished. You will see the measures that the Assembly took both to avenge the national majesty and to pay homage to a generous martyr of liberty. Philippe Lebas in a letter to his father, January 21 1793

Ah! if it is true that man does not die entirely and that the noblest part of himself survives beyond the grave and is still interested in the things of life, come then, dear and sacred shadow, sometimes to hover above the Senate of the nation that you adorned with your virtues; come and contemplate your work, come and see your united brothers contributing to the happiness of the homeland, to the happiness of humanity. Marat in number 105 (January 23 1793) of Journal de la République Française

O Lepeletier! Your death will serve the Republic: I envy your death. You ask for the honors of the Pantheon for him, but he has already collected the prize of martyrdom of Liberty. The way to honor his memory is to swear that we will not leave each other without having given a constitution to the Republic. Danton at the Convention, January 21 1793

O Le Peletier, you were worthy to die for your homeland under the blows of its assassins! Dear and sacred shadow, receive our wishes and our oaths! Generous citizen, incorruptible friend of the truth, we swear by your virtues, we swear by your fatal and glorious death to defend against you the holy cause of which you were the apostle; we swear eternal war against the crime of which you were the eternal enemy, against the tyranny and treason of which you were the victim. We envy your death and we will know how to imitate your life. They will remain forever engraved in our hearts, these last words where you showed us your entire soul; ”May my death,” you said, “be useful to the homeland, may it will serve to make known the true and false friends of liberty, and I die content.” Robespierre at the Jacobins, January 23

Wednesday 23 [sic] — We went to Madame Boyer’s to see the procession. I saw the poor Saint-Fargeau. We all burst into tears when the body passed by, we threw a wreath on it. After the ceremony, we returned to my house. Ricord and Forestier had arrived. I was unable to stop my tears for some time. F(réron), La P(oype), Po, R(obert) and others came to dinner. The dinner was quite fun and cheerful. Afterwards they went to the Jacobins, Maman and I stayed by the fire and, our imaginations struck by what we had seen, we talked about it for a while. She wanted to leave, I felt that I could not be alone and bear the horrible thoughts that were going to besiege me. I ran to D(anton’s). He was moved to see me still pale and defeated. We drank tea, I supped there. Lucile Desmoulins in her diary, January 24 1793

…Pelletier's funeral took place this Thursday as I informed you in my last letter (this letter has gone missing). The procession was immense; it seemed that the population of Paris had doubled, to honor the memory of this virtuous citizen. The mourning of the soul was painted on all the faces: it was especially noticed that the people were extremely affected, which proves that they keenly felt the price of the friend they had lost. Arriving at the Pantheon, Lepelletier's body was placed on the platform prepared for it; his brother delivered a speech which was applauded with tears; Barère succeeded him. Then the members of the Convention, crowding around the body of their colleague, promised union among themselves, and took an oath to save the country. God grant that we have not sworn in vain, that we finally know the full extent of our duties, and that we only occupy ourselves with fulfilling them! In yesterday's session, Pelletier's daughter, aged eight [sic], was presented to the National Convention, which immediately adopted her as a child of the homeland. Georges Couthon in a letter written January 26 1793

How could I be so base as to abandon myself to criminal connections, I who, in the world, have never had more than one close friend since the age of six? (he gestures towards David's painting). Here he is! Michel Lepeletier, oh you from whom I have never parted, you whose virtue was my model, you who like me was the target of parliamentary hatred, happy martyr! I envy your glory. I, like you, will rush for my country in the face of liberticidal daggers; but did I have to be assassinated by the dagger of a republican! Hérault de Sechelles at the Convention, December 29 1793

For a collection of Lepeletier’s works, see Oeuvres de Michel Lepeletier Saint-Fargeau, député aux assemblées constituante et conventionnelle, assassiné le 20 janvier 1793, par Paris, garde du roi (1826)

[applesontheground]

walking on the wild side 🦇

I'M A WEREWOLF FUCKER BUT DAMN THAT NEAR DARK (1987) CAN NEAR DARK (1987). amongst my other new hyperfixes i've been screaming about on here, i really liked the southern vamps and wanted to write about them and that one guy that i don't even try to hide the immediate fascination for. (would you be mad if i said i thought mr. paxton was cute in twister, too, so i knew this was coming for me?)

also, i decided to split this up. it got longer than i thought it would, an old problem i haven't had in a long time, so i've got a triple-feature coming at ya!

also also, enjoy a pic of a baby bat that i looked up while writing this! they're called pups, which i 100% included as a disgusting petname in this. 😭😭😭

SFW | Word Count: 1,694 | Severen x GN Turned!Reader contains canon typical/mentions of murder, reader has a light accent and smokes 🎼: x, x ➡ continued in the wire between will and what will be

Like the sore thumb you were, you had come home late from hunting as though it were your routine. Being your newest skill, something you just weren’t planning on doing with that life of yours a few months ago, you were aching all over and less human the longer you stayed away from the morning glow.

Speaking of, it was catching on your coattails as you slunk into the shade, reading the poorly etched number on the key you had fished from your pocket, hands still trembling from exertion – grabbing shirt collars, holding fast to the neck until the pulse stuttered enough to immobilize the body… and finding the matching room number, you stuck it into the worn slot.

Shallow relief to be given entry, you stalked through the doorway, still walking with a mild limp but a full stomach settling the pain. You heard the room turn, first to look down on you in their usual lack of warmth – then change tune as they witnessed you pull the yellow bandana from your pocket, and dab your mouth just to make a point, half of its color splattered something vibrant.

“…Fresh?” Diamondback crooned; eyes locked on the blood and hopeful. She was always banking on you being the next charity project, like Caleb had been before you fell into the way of their wayward travels. You shot a shamed glance across the floor, leading to the four of them playing poker, plastered grins and cigarettes clouding any semblance of fresh air you had rushing in your face minutes beforehand.

Finally, you nodded, continuing to stagger across the room and ignoring the way Severen shot up from his chair. “HOOO! HOW ‘BOUT IT, [SHORTSTOP/SWEETIE]!?” He hollered, feigning your jolting reaction to the loud noise for ignoring him completely.

“There’s our [man/girl/stud].” Jesse spoke much quieter, and that was what made your eyes fall back on them for a beat. “Turning into a real killer.”

You quickly slunk into the bathroom to wash the sweat, the lamenting, all of it from your body. Your handkerchief fell to the floor, stomped on by a heeled boot without second thought.

It felt as though the next time you opened your eyes, and felt ready to speak again, you were seated at a nearby diner after a day’s rest with the clan. Sleep was still in your eyes as you stared down at a plate of toast you had no intention of eating; they had ordered it for posterity, not ready to show their nature at a place with quite a few parties in the vicinity with you. It was just you, Jesse, Diamondback, and Homer; Severen, Mae, and Caleb had better places to be, you assumed. Diamondback had spoken to you, and when you realized it was a cue to speak, you just started saying the first thing that fell on your tongue from the fog of your newly turned brain.

“This can be hard, but…” You stopped, thinking legitimately before mumbling again in a careful voice, “I’ll manage. I have to if I’m gonna be hanging off your clan, and all.”

“Well, you know what makes it easier?” She asked you, making your eyes flicker back up to her from over your coffee going cold. “What?” You had a dumb tone of voice despite your efforts, unable to help the way your eyes grew a little, a sliver of hope showing in the way your shoulders rose up from a slumped posture.

She smiled and answered, “Having a partner to feed with.”

“...Who?” You felt a bizarre smile grow on your face, “…Homer?” He looked up from coloring his kids menu, flipping you off when he realized you were kidding. You stifled your spirit as you basked in your joke, seeing the other two conceal their own laughs. “No, no.” Diamond giggled, “That’s not who I was hinting at. Homer finds playmates his age, anyways.”

You blinked, suddenly feeling a prickle against your neck at what she meant. The name was dawning on you one moment too late, and you nearly grimaced. “Oh, I…” You cleared your throat, “He don’t…He d-doesn’t like me, Diamondback.”

Jesse snorted, “He’s the one who turned you, it’s only natural that it’s gonna be him.” You shifted in your seat as he went on, “He needs the help sometimes, [Y/N], in more ways than one.”

“I’m not that help.” You insisted quickly, shooting a glance out the diner window, your voice lowering fast and finding the comfortable excuses that should be clear as day to them all...no pun intended. “I’m pretty useless, and it’s best I stay alone for now 'til I’m not.”

“Suit yourself, kiddo.” Jesse stopped leaning back in the booth, making your eyes widen again as he leaned towards you, “But he’s connected to you one way or another, and that bond is going to be potent between us all until one of you goes up in flames.” He scoffed when you furrowed your brow at that, “Hey, it happens, just not old age and all that shit. Give it the time of day, time of night, and you’ll be crawling all over each other.”

“I really don’t need that …And that’s fine, I don’t ask anybody to.” You stated plainly. Diamond sat forward now, extending her sharply manicured hand to you as she cooed, “See, that’s not true, sweetie. You can feed yourself just fine, and we like having that [pretty/stunning] smile around in the small times we get to see it. We do want you here, you know.”

Jesse and Homer gave blank glances to the way your clenched hand fell from where it had been folded over your mouth to take hers, and you hummed, “I hate to say that I try to believe that.”

“Well, you're in luck. Don’t mind sayin’ it ‘til you do.” She shrugged, squeezing your hand.

After “breakfast”, you sat on the edge of the motel’s parking lot, Jesse deeming it safe to stay one more night since no one had found your clan's mess quite yet. You were waiting for the moon to rise a little higher in the sky, still aching in some places from last night. Your hunger was quickly diminished with the new turn still, well, new to your body. You could hear pulses as people passed to their rooms, used the vending machine nearby, and the dust that kicked up from the passing cars from the road itched your eyes and nose even more than it ever had as a mortal growing up in this very desert.

It was fine to sit with, but too much of it would overwhelm you fast, which was what would make you either lash out at the next daywalker or slink in for an early rest.

“Oh, I can't believe my eyes. Is that a wild child I see out yonder?”

You tensed at the sound of his voice, holding your inner elbow tighter as the cigarette planted between two fingers started to tremble where you had left it. It suit better to burn instead of trying to inhale it in an attempt to feel a lethal sensation that couldn’t touch foreign immortality germinating with each breath into your body. You couldn’t help the anxiety that came with hearing his boots scuff on the pavement as he walked over, growing closer in slow motion as you hung onto your last quiet moments. His demeanor was too casual for you to stomach just with how tense you usually were, and the situation you had to drift from in the sense of daydreaming to keep from losing your fucking mind.

“Gonna just sit here like a sack of shit, or are ya gonna hunt?” Severen asked, plopping down next to you. You shot him a look and mumbled, “Cool it. I’m just waiting for the right time, after midnight is where the drunks start getting plastered beyond compare.” You sounded uncertain of your words, so you weakly concluded, “…That’s the best ones to go after.”

“Feedin’ off the drunkies? That blood can be a little sour, make you a little wasted alongside ‘em.” He laughed, and you replied dryly, “I don’t mind, ...it feels good.” He hummed in agreement to that, and then sighed in that usual teasing twang, “You're still such a breakable little thing, though. Someone should come with ya tonight, make sure you don't get caught in bad sit-ee-ations.”

“Oh. Did they ask you to?” You quickly asked, “’Cause I don’t want to make you hang around-” You spit it out after a moment’s hesitation, “With a newbie, alright? You really don’t have to.” Severen stopped smiling to himself, and then quickly asked with a shrug of his hand out in the front of both of you, “Well, what if I wanted to? Then what, [Y/N]?”

You rose one eyebrow, squinting as you prodded, “Do you?”

“Yes’m.”

“Really, I-”

“YES, I want to bag one of these blood-filled piles of meat with you, see what kinda easy targets you’re settlin’ for.” He slung his arm around your shoulders, shaking his head as you met his eyes in a startled glower. “We hunt best in groups, and yeah, Diamondback did tell me to entertain this lil slice of bait in front'a me, but…” He smirked at you, “You hold me back, I’m gonna let you crash and burn. Simple as that, and guess what else?”

You almost asked, but he didn’t let you. “Don’t matter that I bit ya. Bite a lot of [fellers/girls/people]. They just don’t find a way to live like you did, is all.” You thought about that, but finally hummed in a surprise of agreement. “Sure, sure. It’s only fair.”

His smile faltered once more, and you stood up and brushed yourself off, dropping the cigarette and snuffing it with your boot.

“Alright. Let’s shake a leg, wildcat.” You hummed as you walked down the road without a second more of hesitation, feeling a little more guarded with the prospect of Severen deciding you were worth his evening.

“Hey, ain’t no wildcat to you, puppydog.” He retorted, but the spurs that clinked after you spoke otherwise.

[mcx7demonbros]

Shark Attack (Leviathan x GN!MC)

Ft. Leviathan x GN!MC

C/W. Shark attack; Reader being called “ugly”; Cursing.

N.B. I name some minor characters for easy writing.

No proofread

You should have stayed at home.

You didn’t want to join diving trip with Karen, Jason, and Max. However, Karen managed to convince you to join her and the others. You knew that Karen invited you not out of the goodness of her heart, but to have someone inferior with her so that she could feel she was above someone else. And who could be a more perfect target for her than you? Airhead, clumsy, very normal with a face clearly inferior to her. Initially, you didn’t want to suffer going on a trip with her and her two “servants”. But when she described the beauty of the ocean and the aquatic creatures, you lost it. Your boyfriend, the Grand Admiral of Hell Leviathan, has a deep connection with the ocean and creatures within it. Yet you never had the chance to look at any of them in real life, except in the case of Lotan. (Henry 2.0 doesn’t count because he’s a fishbowl-bound goldfish).

On the day of the trip, you four met a man named Constantine, whom Karen hired to guide the group. At first, the trip was pleasant and enjoyable. With Constantine’s guidance, you were able to put on a diving suit and gear. Then you got to look at various colored fishes at a beautiful coral reef. You were also able to take a lot of pictures of the fishes. The only annoying thing was probably Karen’s constant demand to have her face in every picture the others took.

However, everything changed when Karen heard Constantine talk about a more beautiful coral reef quite far from where you were. Karen demanded Constantine to take them there. He objected at first, saying that he heard that people saw big and dangerous sharks there. But when Karen offered more money, Constantine accepted and took the whole group there. You did voice your objection with Constantine, but Karen shouted at you, telling you to shut your ugly mouth.

Karen’s demand was the beginning of a disaster…and a tragedy. Your boat entered the shark area and encoutered an unusually big Great White Shark. It attacked your boat and overturned it after a few tries. You all fell into the water, it hunting territory. With your might and strength, all of you tried to swim away, to a large rock nearby.

You managed to reach the rock, and while trying to climb on it. You heard a woeful scream. You turned around and saw Constantine being devoured between the jaws of the shark, turning a whole area of sea water red with blood.

“What d-do we do now? That monster is going to e-eat us like it h-has done with the old guy.” Max couldn’t stop shaking in his voice.

“From what I have observed, the rock we are standing on will submerge under the water when high tide comes around sunset. We must do something and not waiting for death.” Jason reported to Karen.

Karen looked at the overturned boat afar and then at the large fin moving within the vicinity around the rock.

“Someone has to swim to the boat and get the phone or the signal gun.” Karen said.

“Who’s gonna do that?” Max asked before realizing whom Karen was hinting.

“MC.”

“What?” You didn’t hear the conversation as you were sitting, trying to comprehend what had happened. You would have died today had you been the last of the escape group, with the jaws of the beast wrapping around you and tear you apart with its sharp teeth, chewing you like some meat gum.

“MC, we need you to swim to the boat over-there and get us a phone or a signal gun so that we can ask for a rescue team.”

“I-I c-can’t do that. There’s literally a hungry shark out there. Do you want me dead?” You shouted at Karen, while her two lap dogs looked back at you with threatening eyes.

“C’mon, MC. High tide is coming and this rock will soon submerge under the water. We can’t just sit around and wait for death.”

Knowing that you couldn’t fight all three of them, you reluctantly agreed. Jason even patted your shoulder and told you not to worry, while you were swimming, they would flap on the water so it would attract the shark away from you.

After calming yourself down, you entered the dangerous water and swam towards the boat, while the others created flapping sound on the other side of the rock to lure the shark away from you.

You managed to reach the boat safely and dived down to find the things Karen asked for under the overturned boat. You found your D.D.D floating on the water. Thanks Father it could still working. You also grabbed the flare gun among the things in Constantine’s bag.

Time to return. I can’t wait too much time here.

You left the boat and swam back to the large rock, carrying with you the hopes of the group.

However, the shark soon realized that it was being deceived. It turned its attention on you and began to chase you down.

Seeing the shark swimming at you with high speed, you began to swim faster and harder. When you nearly reached the rock, the shark also open its mouth and…

.

.

.

Sea water turned red with your blood as the shark managed to bite your thigh. It then dragged you across water, far from the rock.

When Karen saw the scene, she thought you would be done for and intended to shout to you to throw your phone and signal gun to them, but then she had a better idea. Taking the chance, the three of them swam towards the boat, abandoning you. They managed to turn the boat back, climbed on it and left.

What they didn’t expect was that you managed to escape the shark’s jaws. You shot the signal gun at the shark’s eyes, blinding it as you escaped back to the rock.

When you saw Karen’s group leaving you behind, you couldn’t help but cursed them under your breath. “Go die and rot in hell.”

You turned back to look at your wound. It was quite deep and the bleeding was constant. You gritted your teeth and washed the wound with sea water.

“Argh. Fuck.” You couldn’t help but cursed again. You continued to bear the pain as you bandaged it with the clothes you tore.

After dealing with the wound, you dialed Levi on your D.D.D.

“I’m on my way.” Levi said with a murderous tone even though you hadn’t explained anything to him.

The moment the call was cut off, you noticed the pact mark on your injured leg began to shine with a dark orange light. Then you looked at it closely, you discovered that the shark had bitten you right on the mark, making it soaked with your blood. Levi must have felt it so he was already on his way when you called him.

A few minutes ago, at the House of Lamentation, Levi was playing his game like any other day. He was even swearing at his bad teammates in a team game. Such team games made the third born miss you. To him, you were the best teammate he could ask for.

MC, I miss you so much. What are you doing now?

Suddenly, he got a tingling sensation. And he could smell blood. A demon’s nature told him it was his master��s blood.

Someone or something is threatening MC.

After that realization, Levi’s console dropped to the ground. A dark orange aura wrapped around him as his growl turned into snake’s hiss. His pupils constricted until they became vertical like snake’s eyes. His skin disappeared to make room for hard purple snake scales. His fangs grew longer and became as good as sharp swords. But the thing to watch out for was the poison & acidic liquid oozing out of the fangs.

Return to you, the sky suddenly darkened even though it wasn’t sunset yet. The pact connects a demon with their master. So you could feel Levi was nearby. You look at the sea and you just wanted to shout “OMG, there’s a big shadow under the water.”

Even the Great White Shark knew the danger and turned around to escape. But it was too late as Levi summoned a water blade. The blade traveled in water with sound speed and cut the shark in half.

“MC” the giant sea serpent emerged its head out of the water and turned to you. “You are badly wounded.”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s go back.”

“No, I still have something I want do do.”

Meanwhile, Karen and her two lap dogs were struggling to find direction to return to shore. However, they were completely lost as the compass was left at the treacherous water. Jason and Max were so pissed off that they began to argue and shout at each other. If Karen didn’t stop them, they would have fought each other.

Suddenly, something smashed into the boat, made it shake.

“What was that?” Karen asked as Max looked at the ocean before shouting. “SHARKS! L-LOTS OF THEM!”

Karen and Jason also looked at the ocean and panic soon filled their faces. Sharks, sharks were everywhere in the vast sea they were.

“Look, what’s that?” Jason pointed as the huge shadow under the water, in the centre of the shiver of hundreds of sharks.

The shadow soon emerged from the water, revealing a gigantic purple snake-like creature with two large corals as its horns. And there was something…someone sitting in the middle of the two horns.

“M-MC! I thought you w-were-were” Karen shouted, realizing it was you.

“Dead.” You finished the sentence for the girl. “Yeah, consider me dead but now I have returned from Hell, along with a part of its Navy under my command, to take you disgusting horrible sinners to Hell.”

“W-wait, let’s talk.”

But you didn’t want to hear another word from their mouths. Leviathan opened his mouth, spatting the acidic liquid at the boat. The boat melted into sea foam before turning into nothingness and the trio fell into the water.

“They’re yours.” Levi coldly said to his shark underlings.

The sea water was soon dyed red with blood, and the sound of waves were replaced by Karen and her lap dogs’ miserable screams. Soon the only thing left was a large pool of blood, but even it would dissipate in the vast ocean.

Nothing was left of this trip. No witness, no evidence, the only things remaining of the horrible trip were the photos of fishes and aquatic creatures you took. You took out your D.D.D and deleted all of them. You just wanted to forget this horrible memory.

“MC, I will take you to another ocean trip, to make wonderful memories, if you want.”

“Thank you, Levi. But I already had enough sea and ocean for today.”

“Including me?” Levi’s vertical orange pupils constricted further more, sadness in his eyes.

“No, not you, Levi. I’ll never be tired of you. Mmm, let’s go home.”

“Ok.”

With that, you and Levi, together with the Shark Squad of Hell’s Navy, disappeared from sight. A few days later, rescue teams were sent out to look for your companions, but to no avail. Nothing was found. Your companions’ disappearance became one of the most mysterious missing cases at sea.

[ryin-silverfish]

I've been researching a lot about FSYY, been eating up anything I can really find since I can't find a good English translation of it. The most I've been able to find was a summary doc. I've noticed that amongst the tumblr community, Jiang Ziya isn't talked about a lot. He's mentioned here and there and I think he's supposed to he some general during the war, but I can't find much else, and I have no idea how accurate the movie Jiang Ziya: Legend of Deification is. I was hoping you could provide an overview or analysis of who the guy is?

Our old friend, JTTW Research, has the only "complete" English translation of the novel by Gui Zhizhong on his blog.

"Complete" in quotation marks, because it left out quite a number of passages and poems and I have gripes about how it translated the Daoist names of immortals, but Gui Zhizhong's translation is still the fullest version of the story you can get.

Now, Jiang Ziya.

Much like the historical Xuanzang, Jiang Shang/Taigong Wang is a real person (probably, we can never know for sure with ancient history) who lived during the end of the Shang dynasty.

He is said to have remained poor for much of his life, into his old age. Having been divorced by his wife, he had worked as a butcher, wine-seller and servant at an inn (not necessarily in that order) before settling down in Xi Qi and becoming a fisherman.

Well, except fish isn't really what he's after. He is trying to fish up a true sovereign to work for, and that man is King Wen of Zhou.

They encounter each other while King Wen was out on a hunting trip, and together, they began to plot the downfall of the Shang dynasty (which is why in Warring States and Han dynasty works, Jiang Shang was often known as "the father of conspiracies/plotting").

He married his daughter to King Wen's son, King Wu, and as a result, is also referred to as Shangfu, "Esteemed Father".

If the Book of Poems was to be believed, he had also participated in the Battle of Muye himself, which ended the Shang dynasty:

牧野洋洋，檀车煌煌，驷騵彭彭。维师尚父，时维鹰扬。凉彼武王，肆伐大商，会朝清明。

After his victory, he was given the fief of Qi (modern Shandong) by King Wu.

Now, the historical Jiang Shang was very much known as a strategist, but later retellings had given him supernatural powers, as we tend to do to famous strategist figures like Zhuge Liang.

And the "deification" of Jiang Ziya began pretty early. The military book 六韬 that was traditionally attributed to him, has a story in which, during King Wu's campaign, five chariots had driven into the camp during a snowy day, yet left no wheel tracks on the snow.

King Wu asked Jiang Ziya who they were, and he answered that it must be the "gods of the five directions" coming to receive their orders, and summoned them in to give them their respective duties.

This is probably the earliest prototype for the "deification" story cycle.

As for Book! Jiang Ziya: He is a student of Yuanshi Tianzun who...just isn't very good at this whole "cultivation" business, having joined the Chan Sect while he was 32 and spent 40 years there without making much progress.

So Yuanshi Tianzun was like, "I'll be honest, you aren't really built for this. However, here's a chance for you to receive fame and fortune in this mortal life: the Investiture Project", then sent him down the mountain to wait for the right moment.

He went to his sworn brother, who, uh, not only generously sponsored him, but also arranged his marriage to Ma the 68-years-old virgin.

Thus began his unhappy married life, characterized by a series of businesses Ma pressured him into that all failed hilariously and forever cementing Book! Jiang Ziya's man failure vibes.

Like, even after he joined the War of Investiture proper and received some neat treasures, like the God-beating Whip that has damage bonus against people whose names are on the Investiture, and the Yellow Flag, one of four powerful magical banners, he is still destined to face "Three Calamities and Seven Deaths".

Literally. He got killed/sent into a near death state for 6-7 times, usually followed by an insta-resurrection via magical pills. And after the first couple of times, my mental image is just this:

Anyways, that funny tangent aside: because of his role as the guy chosen for the Investiture Project, in old Chinese folk religion, people often hang up Jiang Ziya's portrait, with the words "Taigong is here, all gods must step back!" (太公在此，诸神回避) on it.

[grapesodadarkchocolate]

September 19, 2023

“The person who makes something today isn’t the same person who returns to the work tomorrow.” — Rick Rubin, The Creative Act

Dearest Richard,

I wish we could have done a tandem ride this morning. The sun was flamboyant in its vibrancy as it was inching its way above the tree line as I entered on to the lake’s bike path. A silhouetted great blue heron was poised on the edge of the estuary just past the fishing dock. A strong broad eagle flew overhead as I was pumping my pedals up the small hill by the tennis courts. Not to be outdone, just as I am making my way towards where the lower path splits from the parkway road a confident juvenile eagle soars directly overhead. I see it as it is approaching, crossing the lake and meeting up with me as I ride directly underneath its six foot wing span. Exquisite. 

I realize each day as I set to write you a letter, I am different. Different from the writer I was just the day before. Each moment within each day affords me the chance to keep my aperture wide open, availing me the opportunity to learn more and hence to become more. Building on each and every seemingly independent thought or engagement. Always carrying your memory in my breast pocket, close to my ever beating heart, a new moment of learning includes the reality of my finite life. Pushing me more into what is precious. If you are in my everything and have always been there, which is the truth I continue to pull out, you offer that never ending path towards more authenticity. I am in awe and wonder of it all. Words always fall short in such treasure hunting searches for more accurate language.

When I initially wrote your story I was in a different place of understanding than I am now. I was different in many ways and I hope I am a bit wiser. Wiser in the sense that I now see the strength and power of story in a more expansive light. You have taught me that. Finding the gift of staying true to my heart’s beat. Its intentional rhythm. As I remained open to the more, I would continue on the track you had laid out in front of me. I initially didn’t know where I was heading or why. I was restless. I was seeking something I couldn’t name. I felt the push from behind and enough real time support to keep it moving forward. 

I would like to offer you another story carrot. I told you I began with the puckish photo of the four year old you, the flag, the stars and the first words of “I understood it was important.” Not yet knowing the “it” I was trying to name as a young grade schooler. The “it” being you. Continuing on, speaking to my understanding of your story’s importance and that you had been loved. Splashes of young you and mom photos were included here. I only wanted photos where you two were the main event. Moving along, the additional pages added movement, allowing you to gradually age. Only having what I had in the box to work with, I pushed on. I pulled copies of all the letters, photos, and other artifacts and shrunk them down to fit onto a 4” x 6” format similar to the dimensions of your training flight book. The blank pages from that same book were used as the background.

I would like to mail you a copy of Richard’s Story. The book is so tactile. Your tiny passport opens. The training plane propeller spins. The clock hands rotate. Letters can be pulled out of small envelopes. Take a peek. Extract the letters. It might be tricky to stay with your story without simply falling in to a lump of sadness on the floor. Allow your feelings to be what they need to be. Take it at your own pace. There was and always has been so much love present. Hoping that is part of your takeaway. Look for yourself. What do you see? What has the most meaning for you? 

I will be heading off to the post office and library soon, getting the correct postage before mailing your package. I wonder what the postage might be for heaven? The belief I have that there is something beyond this world. Having different names, heaven being the one I use. The afterlife question, what did you think? I ask that question in past tense for the answer arrived after you passed. You know what the answer is now and have known for a long time, since 1943 to be exact. Wondering what was in your thoughts each time you went on another mission. The kind of thoughts that can catch you by surprise but speak to what you deeply feel. That is a big question, yet I know there is more beyond this life. I feel there is more. The way love transcends time has taught me that with more clarity. I don’t simply speak it in rhetorical proclamations, it is something more inside of me because of you and mom.

Happy reading. I am curious to hear what you think. Take your time. I will write more later.

Posting this package with hugs and kisses slid inside. 

Thanking you from the depths of my ever beating heart,

Your Niece

Enclosed: Copy of Richard's Story by me and you. 

[rhetoricandlogic]

Necessity - Jo Walton (Thessaly 3)

The first book in this trilogy was fun and thought-provoking, the second book a bit less so, though it still had its moments. As for the third, well…. I still liked the setting and characters, and was forewarned about most of the truly bizarre plot focus decisions, so I did more or less enjoy myself reading this. Nevertheless, if this book was the best Walton could do, this should have been a duology.

**Spoilers for the first two books below**

So, let’s say you’re writing a trilogy about time travelers trying to set up Plato’s Republic in the Bronze Age, and exploring how the Republic would work if attempted by real humans, over the course of decades. By the second book and thirty years in, they’re starting to tamper with history, so at the end, Zeus relocates them to a distant planet in the 25th century. What should the plot of the third book be?

a) Adjusting to life on a distant and inhospitable planet, complicated by the fact that most of the people involved are from long before the Space Age. How do they survive? How do they make sense of what happened? What about the fact that 7 of the cities are populated mostly by ancient Greek refugees who were never part of the original experiment, and have never been in touch with the other 5; how do all these communities work together, or not? What about the alien society living alongside them?

b) Recontact with mainstream human civilization. What has happened to humanity in the intervening centuries? What do people raised in a Platonic society think of 25th century humans, and how does contact change their society? What do mainstream humans think about the Platonists, and how does this discovery (and especially the society’s belief in the literal Greek gods) affect the rest of humanity? How will the Platonists deal with the fact that they know robots are sentient, and spacefaring humans don’t care?

c) Treasure hunt through Earth’s history to retrieve plot coupons to “rescue” the goddess Athena, who has apparently gotten “lost outside of time.” Drop in on some historical figures and characters from prior books. Spend most of the novel on this, though it has no particular sense of urgency and only two of the four point-of-view characters are even involved. The events of A and B can be alluded to in passing.

I’m sure you can guess, because I wouldn’t have included such a bizarre option otherwise, that Walton chose C.

So, most of the book is a plot tumor. It’s kind of fun, in its way—I enjoyed the historical Easter eggs—and had this been one of those “librarians adventure through time” series, it might have worked well. But it makes zero sense as the final volume of this trilogy, which has always been about the society and the thought experiment, not silly action stuff. (Okay, this plotline is too sedate to properly be called “action,” but we’re told the integrity of time itself is somehow threatened, so.) In that sense it’s wildly disappointing, because the more interesting and meaty issues are brushed aside. And the book is full of expository dialogue that mostly focuses on rehashing the prior two books, rather than answering the questions I had, like: how would human circadian rhythms function on a planet with 19-hour days? How do they breathe on a planet with no native plants? How do they have enough to eat when their primary food source is fish and only two of 12 cities are on the water, and what does everyone else do all day?

There are four point-of-view characters here, which I’d say is one too many (the one is Jason, a young fisherman who has nothing particular to do). Apollo is fun, as always. Crocus, the robot philosopher, is also an enjoyable POV; he has nothing to do with the plot, but he’s interesting and the plot sucks anyway, so that’s not a problem. I was of two minds about the final one, Marsilia. After two books that, like most fantasy, give the primary female roles to teenagers, it’s refreshing that she’s 35 and a mother and a political figure. But her story is unsatisfying, she doesn’t get to do much, for a philosopher she doesn’t seem to think things through [I kept waiting for her to wonder, “wait a minute, can my daughter really be half-alien? I think I’d have noticed. Plus, our species can’t interbreed. And if it’s true, what does that mean for her?” Bizarrely, despite believing for much of the book that her daughter was secretly fathered by an alien, this never occurs to her] and there’s some totally unnecessary Not Like Other Girls. The differences between Marsilia and her sensitive sister Thetis are at least fairly well-drawn, but Walton also repeatedly makes the point that Marsilia and her mother don’t understand each other, without developing this at all. Marsilia’s mother is a ship captain. Marsilia loves being on the water so much that she’s taken a second job on a boat. It felt like Walton was just assuming that, Marsilia being a protagonist, obviously she would be left out of her mother and sister’s mutual understanding, that’s how female protagonists work amirite? But given the specifics of the actual three characters involved, this didn’t make sense to me at all. If we must have an odd one out here, it’s obviously Thetis.

Finally, the romantic resolution is really bizarre and unfortunate. Essentially, Walton contrives a plot situation forcing five characters—four humans and an alien—to declare their intention to form a “pod,” a type of plural marriage practiced by the aliens. Only the alien has expressed any interest in this whatsoever, the humans he has floated this to have firmly rejected the idea, but after the conversation in which they have to pretend it’s true, no one seems to want to back out, so they just…. all move in together? This is made even more unfortunate by the fact that the five people involved are [two sisters, Marsilia and Thetis, plus Jason, with whom they’re in a low-key love triangle. This is the kind of love triangle to make no one happy: Marsilia wants Jason, Jason wants Thetis, Thetis doesn’t care. Jason gives an unfortunate little speech about how they complement each other that sounded to me like “neither of you is enough for me, I need you both to have a full person.” Also, added to this mix we have the 75-year-old Socrates, who isn’t dead after all, and the alien. I am just baffled by this, we are supposed to root for a spur-of-the-moment incestuous group marriage in which no two people are mutually attracted to each other?

It feels a bit like the whole trilogy, Walton has kind of wanted to explore marriages outside the dominant paradigm, but without ever actually exploring them, just throwing people into situations that sound like a terrible idea and informing us that this is a happy ending.

So in the end, while Walton is a perfectly decent writer and I wasn’t unhappy reading this, I have very little good to say about it and would not recommend. Just stop after the second book and imagine your own ending.

[cinderswrites]

Frayed ::

four

“How is your father doing, by the way?” Rhea asked as she set down the teacup.

Cynfael had brought her to a new restaurant, a place atop a hill overlooking the harbor and docks. They were seated in front of one of the large windows, with a view of the ocean just as he’d promised. The tables around them were kept clear to avoid any inconvenience to the prince, and Rhea didn’t miss the way those penetrating eyes of curious people bore into her as she had walked in and sat down with him. Alaric stood guard nearby, still as a statue and with a sharp eye out for any trouble.

Cynfael adjusted his posture and drank from his cup slowly, thinking over the question. “I could say he’s doing well, better than anyone thought he would. Honestly, I’m sure he’s tired. He feels the weight of a kingdom on his shoulders, after all.”

“And your mother?”

“As elegant and content as ever. She enjoys the spoils of the life, but it’s not without its hardships. She’s there for my father in every way and helps him with challenging tasks. I’m certain he’d have renounced the throne years ago if it weren’t for her,” he laughed.

She chuckled as well, “Now for the most damning question, yet. How are you doing, Cynfael?”

He winced, frowning slightly, “I knew it was coming and yet I still feel unprepared to answer.” His following chuckle was low and morose, “To be quite honest, this role fits me like a glove. Too perfectly, perhaps. I loved my uncle, and I love my parents and my kingdom, but sometimes…”

“It’s too much?” Rhea offered hesitantly.

He met her eyes and nodded once, “Absolutely. The etiquette classes, learning the history, sitting in on military meetings, foreign affairs, all of it. And on top of that, needing time to develop my own personal interests and skills. Horseback riding, hunting, sparring, writing, music. Trying to find any free time in all that drivel is maddening!”

Rhea listened intently, feeling pain in her heart for her old friend. A child carefree and full of wonder at the world. Someone who used to want to fish for a living, told her his dreams about living on a boat most of the year. She couldn’t imagine how much he’d been struggling. Her own battles seemed less cumbersome as he continued to speak.

“About a year ago, I finally told my father, ‘Enough! I don’t need to know all of it! I need some damn room to breathe!’ And here we are. I’m allowed exactly two hours out of my day to spend as I please, and I use it to walk around town,” he grinned. “Not exactly relaxing, but it gives my mind a break and lets me see the real problems here. I’ve been making headway on a building on the other side of town. A refuge for the poor, if you will.”

“Oh, really?” her voice didn’t disguise her surprise.

“Yes,” he nodded, “it’s not quite open yet. The construction is rather slow, since it’s being funded by the gratuitous donations of the rich. As you may have already guessed, those are few and far between. There’s too many unknowns for my father to fund it directly, especially since it’s not an investment.”

The look on his face was resentful. She reached over and patted his hand, “It’s an amazing idea, my friend. If I had all the money in the world, I’d help you, you know that.”

His eyes lingered on her hand before drifting up to her face, “I do know that. You’ve always been a wonderfully kind and charitable person, Rhea.”

She blushed under the directness of the compliment and pulled her hand back. “Thank you.”

The conversation came to a halt as one of the women waitressing brought their food. They settled in to eat and were having one last cup of tea when Cynfael spoke again, “How are you doing, Rhea? Truly?”

She felt the corner of her mouth twitch. “I’m doing just fine,” she said after a moment, smiling at him.

“I can’t help but feel as if you’re holding back,” he assessed. “I know your mother’s death must have been hard on you. I got word of it too late, and I couldn’t make the time to visit, with everything going on. And then your father remarried so quick—“

“Yes, well, it’s been quite a few years since then. Thelma and her children are great, Father’s doing well, and I’m doing well also.” Rhea said, her voice sounding strained. “It’s been a blast, having siblings. Alice, the youngest daughter, is so smart and witty. I think you’d enjoy meeting her. Henri Jr. is such a little peach as well! A perfect little mini-me of my father.”

“What of Scarlett? The eldest daughter?”

“Scarlett is a carbon copy of Thelma,” Rhea hesitated. “Thelma has rather… strong ideals for the family. Scarlett happens to be the only one of either of us to fit that mold.”

“I see,” Cynfael cleared his throat. “Well, enough of family talk. Do you have any goals you’re working on?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. Before I was sidetracked by the market, I was planning on visiting the clothing shops in town to inquire about apprenticeships.” Rhea divulged, happy to move on from talking about her home life.

“Clothing shops? Do you desire to be a seamstress?” Cynfael seemed genuine in his interest.

“Yes. I’ve only recently come to this conclusion, so we’ll see how it works out.”

“Have you made clothes before?” he asked.

She nodded, “The dress I’m wearing today I made myself. Rather, I recycled old fabrics and made something new,” she added modestly. She didn’t miss the way his eyes quickly scanned her, and she fought the flustered feelings of being scrutinized by the prince of all people, regardless of him also being her childhood friend. “It’s fine work, if I may say so,” he said with a smile, “not that I know anything of that sort of nature.”

Rhea laughed, “Well, I’m hoping to learn more. I’ve got plenty of dresses to bring in as a sort of portfolio of my talents.”

Once they were finished with their tea, both of them stood and walked out of the restaurant. Alaric followed close behind as they made their way down a path towards the beach. Cynfael brought up her search for a job, “If I’m not being too forward by saying so, I’ve heard recently that my mother’s personal seamstress has been looking for an apprentice.”

Rhea’s heart almost stopped in her chest. “N-no, that’s too much. I hardly know a thing! There’s no way I’d be fit to apprentice for her.” “Excuse my manners, but that’s utter nonsense. I can see for myself the skills you possess. I’ll put in a good word for you.”

“But—“

“I don’t want to hear it,” Cynfael said, determined. “As your friend, Rhea, and as someone that cares for you, please allow me to do this for you.”

Rhea had opened her mouth to protest more, but just then several official looking men called out to Cynfael. He excused himself and walked towards them. Alaric stayed near Rhea, ever present and silent as he was. Meanwhile, Rhea had turned her attention back towards the beach. She walked over onto a nearby boulder, crouching down on top of it. A few inches down on another rock was a bright orange seashell. As she reached for it, her foot slipped and she gasped.

She was expecting to slide off into the other rocks, but felt nothing except for strong arms wrapping around her small frame, preventing her from going anywhere. Alaric’s voice sounded next to her ear, his breath tickling the side of her face. “Excuse my touch, my Lady. Are you okay?”

“Y-yes,” she replied, her voice small and trembling. He helped her off the rock and set her on her feet in a swift motion that took her brain a moment to comprehend. Once she was standing, he held out his hand, palm up. On it was the shell she was reaching for. She took it gently and looked up at him, “Thank you, sir.”

That serious expression of his cracked as he smiled and nodded. His smile made her heart beat faster and set off a dozen butterflies in her stomach, a feeling as strange and foreign as this day was. “Perhaps a walk on the beach would be safer?” he suggested.

“R-right,” she dipped her head in a small nod and turned, stiffly walking around the rocks onto the sand.

They had gone a few feet when he spoke up, “Your skills at de-escalating the situation at the market earlier were impressive, my Lady.”

“I wouldn’t call them skills,” she said quietly. “Simply just a matter of just being observant.”

“Thanks to you, the matter was resolved quickly and without further incident. It’s still impressive, none the less.” Alaric stopped to examine a snail shell that was empty, picking it up and handing it to Rhea.

She put it next to the orange shell and felt her mouth turn up into a smile, “Well, thank you for saying so. I didn’t know you saw that.” “Mm,” he nodded, “we had just arrived when he grabbed that poor woman’s wrist.”

“So you saw the fabric under the table as well, then?”

“I didn’t notice it until you pointed it out, actually.”

“How would you have resolved such a dispute?”

Alaric’s demeanor changed to something resembling discomfort. “It is our King’s policy to take all accusations of theft seriously. She might have been jailed for some time and charged a hefty fine if she weren’t able to prove her innocence.”

The shock that ran through Rhea almost stopped her in her tracks, “S-surely, that’s a little too much?”

“You question the royal laws?”

She swallowed hard, her throat dry. “N-not at all, no. I apologize, Captain. It’s my first time being in the public in a while, so I may speak out of turn.”

When she glanced at Alaric, she saw his shoulders shaking with his silent chuckle. “My apologies, Lady Rhea, I was only poking fun.” Her mouth gaped open in awe, and she quickly closed it, her lips forming a pout. “I see.”

“If I may be blunt, I have the same views on that particular law. It’s rash and allows anyone to cry wolf.” Alaric sighed. “It’s not only a waste of time, but of resources.”

“It sounds like it can ruin a few lives, too.” Rhea nodded solemnly. “What’s stopping a merchant from accusing another merchant?”

“Ah, therein lies the loopholes. Merchants are protected under clauses. Same with nobles. It seems only the commonfolk suffer from such a policy,” he explained. His sharp eye caught the glint of another shell, a pearly pink one this time. He quickened his pace to pick it up and walked back to Rhea, placing it in her hand.

Her fingers brushed off the sand and stroked the smooth side of the shell. “How long have you been serving the royal family?” she asked.

“I was born into it. My father was King Roland’s Captain, and I was trained under him.” Alaric looked up at the clear blue sky, eying a passing bird.

“Sounds tough. Was it something you chose for yourself?”

“I don’t hate it, if that’s what you’re asking. I don’t see myself doing anything else. I enjoy the sense of servitude for not only the family but the kingdom as a whole. I don’t imagine many would feel happy about their duties and requirements in my position if they hadn’t grown up with it.” Alaric spoke honestly and Rhea listened with interest, “I admired my father as a child. Sword fighting, settling disputes, protecting people. It’s what I’ve always wanted to do.”

“Then to me, it seems like you’ve found the right calling,” Rhea joked lightly. “That’s a treasure in itself.”

“I suppose it is.”

Rhea stopped suddenly, turning towards the captain. Over his shoulder, she could see the prince still engaged in conversation with the officials. “Tell me honestly, is the prince really doing well?”

Alaric searched her face for a moment, “There are days when he feels like he wants to leave and say ‘to hell with it all’, but for the most part, there’s no one better to fit the roles he occupies.”

“I see. I’m glad,” she said quietly with a smile.

“Pardon me if I’m being too brash, but I feel like it would be safer to warn you now that the prince is required to marry a woman of his father’s choosing—“

Rhea’s eyebrows raised dramatically and she stumbled over her words, “Oh, heavens, no! I-I’m not—that’s not—“ she stepped back and ran a hand through her hair, then turned to glare at the captain so strongly, he almost flinched. “I’m not interested in the prince,” she hissed quietly. “We’re childhood friends and I’ve always cared for him as such.”

Alaric blinked slowly, then laughed, “Forgive me, my Lady.”

She rolled her eyes and started walking back towards Cynfael, who had begun jogging their way. Over her shoulder, she snapped, “Quit calling me ‘lady’ as well!”

The captain followed after her, highly amused.

When they reached the prince, Cynfael informed them that he had to leave. “I’m so sorry, Rhea. Important matters have come up.”

“It’s not a problem!” she said quickly. “I’ve got some things left to do in town before I go home anyway.”

The prince looked at the captain for a moment. “Alaric, why don’t you stay with the lady today? Keep her company. I’ll be able to concentrate better knowing my old friend made it home safe.”

His concern made her flustered, and the captain replied, “Certainly, my Prince.”

He leaned in to whisper something to the captain before stepping away. Cynfael turned to Rhea, holding both her hands in his. “I will get a meeting with my mother’s seamstress set up and have word brought to you soon.”

Before she could say anything, he bid them farewell and walked back to the group of men he was speaking with. She huffed quietly, feeling frustrated at his imposing, but decided she couldn’t do anything about it. She looked up at the captain and he gestured towards the town and said, “Shall we?”

She sighed again and started walking away from him, back towards town. While most women would have done anything to be in her shoes today, dark thoughts swirled in her mind about the blatant interference into her life. So much for independence, she thought bitterly.

[clarklovescarole]

January 1939: Dribs and Drabs

January 2, 1939 – San Francisco Examiner

Carole Lombard and Clark Gable spent New Year’s Day hunting quail and later calling on their valley friends

January 3, 1939 – Philadelphia Inquirer

Lombard and Gable Together on Holiday

As for us, we spent the evening at Marson’s farm with Carole Lombard, Clark Gable, the Danny Dankers and the Walter Langs stopping in to wish yours truly and my favorite doctor a happy New Year.

January 8, 1939 – Lexington Leader

Louella Parsons in Hollywood

Clark Gable is still top man in the movies, by every contest and by every vote. In addition, his friends vote him the most regular fellow they know. He has the world at his feet – all but for one thing. He hasn’t for over two years been able to marry the woman he loves – Carole Lombard.

Both Carole and Clark have listened to the chit chat that Mrs. Gable would give her young husband a divorce the movement he asked for it. Both of them read interviews in fan magazines that Ria (a contraction of her name, Maria) would oh so gladly legally free her famous husband if he desired his freedom. But Mrs. Gable, after being told via the public print that he wanted nothing so much as to be able to marry the vivacious, blonde Carole Lombard, still professed that she didn’t believe he wanted his freedom.

Perhaps she expects Clark to send her an engraved card asking for a divorce. Clark has tried in every way to let her know that he loves Carole and is waiting for her to make the next move.

Mrs. Gable Well Paid

Mrs. Gable has been paid well in a generous settlement. Is she holding out for still more money? I dislike to believe that of her, for she was a woman of independent means when she married Clark and she is attractive enough to make a life of her own – so why should she stand in the way of his happiness? 

It’s no secret in Hollywood they weren’t getting along well for a year before they finally separated. 

When Clark met Carole six months later, no one was surprised to see him fall in love. To know Carole Lombard is to love her. She has a devastating sense of humor. She is always doing some kind thing for people less fortunate than herself. When Los Angeles was flooded she sent her entire check paid her for a radio broadcast to the flood sufferers. She adores Clark and she is good for him, as he is for her. Nowhere in Hollywood is there a pair better suited than Carole and Clark, two people who love the real things in life, the outdoors, fishing, hunting, and horseback-riding.

Before Clark and Carole fell in love she was known as a girl who loved gay parties. She always wore the last word in smart clothes and was applauded for the original parties she gave. Today Carole surrounds herself with only a few close friends. She goes to very few big social events. She looks after Clark’s welfare, sees that he eats the right things, takes the proper exercise and encourages him in his career, which has gone to new heights since she became head woman in his life.

Clark May Sue For Freedom

If Mrs. Gable doesn’t divorce Clark – and from what she told intimates after it appeared in print that he wanted a divorce, she will need plenty of coaxing – it wouldn’t’ surprise me to see Clark go to Reno in case she still holds out and refused to let him have his precious freedom. Clark is first of all an innate gentleman. He hasn’t wanted to hurt the woman who was once his wife. But if I know Clark, and I think I know him better than most people since he is one of our closest friends, I look to see him give Mrs. Gable one more chance to divorce him and if she doesn’t, to see him file the suit himself. 

January 10, 1939 – Minneapolis Star

Guess who the only film intimates of Clark Gable and Carole Lombard are? Mr. and Mrs. Andy Devine, if you can imagine it. The four go every place together and the Devines are the only acceptable pair in Hollywood.

January 12, 1939 – Daily News

Clark Gable and the girl friend Carole Lombard were among the film celebrities at the ringside as Henry Armstrong out-mauled Baby Arizmendi at Los Angeles. They saw Henry win fifth battle between the pair. 

January 15, 1939 – Los Angeles Times

A welcome home party for Adela Rogers St. John was given Wednesday afternoon by Margaret Ettinger and Robert Cobb in Beverly Hills Brown Derby. Among the many guests were… Carole Lombard… Clark Gable… 

January 16, 1939 – St. Louis Dispatch

At the motion picture relief weekly radio show. The $10,000 paid each week for 16 weeks will build a home for destitute former picture stars. …. Clark Gable and Carole Lombard look in for a minute to give the proceedings their blessing. Carole’s face is as somber as her clothes – which are black. Being in love with Mr. Gable has effected a change in Miss Lombard’s personality. She is positively serious. (The smiles will return when Mrs. Rhea Gable takes that long-discussed trip to Reno).

January 17, 1939 – Spokesman Review

Clark Gable receives a ham each week from Carole Lombard…

January 22, 1939 – St. Louis Globe Democrat

Carole Lombard is an incurable ribber as her new contract with her agent, Myron Selznick, helped to bear testimony. 

Selznick had signed and forwarded it for her signature. In due time, it was returned and was deposited in his safe. 

Next day, Carole phoned a demand for 10 percent of all his earnings. She had had her attorney prepare a sheet to that effect and inserted it.

January 23, 1939 – Lexington Herald

Louella Parsons

The long-awaited Clark Gable divorce, exclusively predicted by this column, will be obtained in Las Vegas by Mrs. Gable, who left for Nevada city to establish a residence. The Nevada law requires six weeks residence to obtain a divorce, after which it is possible to remarry. The deal to purchase the gorgeous Raoul Walsh estate in the San Fernando Valley was closed at a reported price of $65,000. Clark takes possession next week, moving his horses into the famous Walsh stables. Since he will be free to marry Carole Lombard in about two months, they are undoubtedly planning to make their home there until such time as they either sell the Northridge property Clark recently acquired, or build the home they originally planned on a picturesque knoll. 

January 23, 1939 – Daily News

Clark Gable and Carole Lombard are toying with the idea of a March 17 wedding, St. Patrick’s Day…

January 24, 1939 – Buffalo Evening News

When Clark Gable marries Carole Lombard – in about seven weeks – their joint annual income will touch the $700,000 mark. I shudder to think of their combined income taxes.

January 26, 1939 – Fort Worth Star Telegram

March 6 Is Believed Gable-Lombard Day

Although Clark Gable and Carole Lombard refused to comment, the romance-makers of Hollywood Thursday were betting the popular film couple would be married on March 6.

On that date, they pointed out, Gable’s present wife, Mrs. Ria Gable, now in Nevada for divorce, will receive her divorce decree or at least she will be eligible to receive it, since she will have completed her six-week residence in the state.

January 31, 1939 – Buffalo Evening News

Carole Lombard’s friends would like her to have “the works” as regards ceremony when she marries Clark Gable. But Carole and Clark say no, they don’t want to turn their wedding into a circus.

[husbandohunter]

Stardew Impact [Stardew Valley+Genshin Impact x Reader]

Part 2/3 Zhongli, Xiao

Synopsis: “A mysterious phenomenon brought you and your s/o to an unfamiliar world: Pelican Town! Without the power of Visions, the two of you begin to learn the life of what it takes to be...a farmer?”

(DOMESTIC FARM LIFE ROUND TWO)

Genre: Fluff

Others

Diluc and Kaeya

Albedo and Childe

(A/n): This was meant to be part 3 but I couldn't wait to write xiao. Plus Ive been writing Albedo for almost the whole month already Word count_2.6k

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Xiao

• Thrown in an unfamiliar environment puts Xiao on high alert. Instincts kick in and his hand subconciously grabs for his spear. Nothing. Not even his vision activated. Xiao's gaze darts all over before landing on your figure. He sighs in relief, you're safe, that much he can decipher as of now.

• Stripped of his power, left with only claws and teeth (if must) to protect you from any dangers, he was ansty with every little thing. 

• The villagers are so nice??? For what reason must they have to act so friendly to strangers (Xiao wonders). The Mayor even granted you two a vast farmland free of charge. 

• Shortly he realized he no longer had his karmaic debt. Xiao wasn't sure how to live his life in this state. He dedicated his entire existence to years of slaughter and suffering that it became the only thing he knew. He won't admit it of course, he'll just throw in scoffs and remarks about how mundane activities are a waste of time when in reality, he just has no clue on how to handle them.

• Thats why the first day was difficult as you both try to figure out how to plant parnsips. Deciding it was better to go with an experiment, you split the share of seeds in half and used what basic knowledge you had on farming to finish the job. Xiao on the other hand tried copying what you did….though the outcome wasn't so desirable it was a mess. (His trained hands have taught him to be on the rough side).

• He doesn't bother socializing with the townspeople even though he has no karmaic debt to worry about. Xiao thinks you're more than enough anyways so what's the point? 

• Robin is the only person who can tolerate him for obvious reasons (cough Sebastian cough) she knows exactly how to deal with his personality type. His glares don't faze her, she simply thinks its just a teenage phase of some sort. 

• Eventually they become mutuals, Xiao thinks Robin is similar to Verr Goldet in a way. Since he's the one who does the heavy labour of chopping down trees and mining stones for building upgrades, he gets a chance to visit her house quite often. He comes back with lots of recipes too.

• You find out that his adepti blood never left him. Xiao doesn't need sleep so you better believe it when he tells you the next morning that he spent the whole night watering all 300 of your crops (watering is the only process he's good at for farming). 

• Sometimes you catch him staring out of the window, wondering what he may be thinking. Life was so much more different, almost hard to recognize. Was this real? Is it okay for it to be real, just this once? Ever since he committed his duty to Morax, Xiao didn't dream of a time when everything would be peaceful. Yet here he is, no longer a weapon but on a journey to find out what it's like to live as a normal person. 

• Spring: Every morning you find him kneeling behind the cabin with the pet cat (yes, cats seem to suit Xiao very much). He just stares at them, hesitant if he wanted to pet their fur or rub their chin. So he continues to glare intensely, scaring your cat away :(

• Whenever you wanted to attend any of the town's festivities, Xiao wouldn't even hide his distastefulness but goes with you regardless. Why do mortals consider hiding eggs and finding them a fun activity? And what kind of a name is Flower Dance? Can't they just call it a dance?

• Though…he does like the sight of you wearing a flower crown. Xiao likes putting stuff in your hair.

Since setting foot upon this new world, time seemed to have slowed down to the point that almost everything felt like an eternity. And you didn't mind, with him by your side, you wouldn't mind if it did last forever.

The lull of the grass was the only sound Xiao could hear as he closed his eyes and rested his head on your lap. You maneuvered across his scalp in small, subtle motions, surprised with how warm he felt against the heat your palm. He stirs a little and lets out a soft breath before turning his face to lay on the side.

You were slightly intrigued by the yaksha's new demeanor. From far away, Xiao was an intimidating man, even during the first time you laid eyes him, his presence felt similar to a knife pointing at anyone who dares to come too close. But now, the face that usually held his signature annoyance melted into something you never thought you'd see as the sun rays brushed against the surface of his fair skin. You observed the way his dark eyebrows stayed in a relaxed arch. The red crescents lining right above his beautiful long lashes and the sound of soft snores through parted lips. It was hard to believe that this man was the same person who claimed to have ended a thousand lives through thousands of years.

Did he fall asleep already?

Gently moving away the strands away from his cheekbone, hovered your gaze above him and whispered, "I thought adepti don't need rest."

"Hmph," Xiao responds, though there was no harshness in his tone, "Quit trying to be difficult, I didn't tell you to stop."

The smug grin on your face only widens. You lean downward and said to his ear, "And what's the magic word~?"

Xiao sighs at your antics. You were truly pushing your luck today and he simply didn't have the patience to entertain you. Without a warning, he grabs your wrist and pulls you down, foreheads pressing until you were but a breath away. The adepti conquers, he does not plead.

• Summer: As expected, your parnsnips weren't able to grow as much. Thus, this season was going to be the one to make up for the lost profit. Xiao is very good at hunting, perhaps the best in the entire town. Though the way he catches fish is rather peculiar, said by the folks. He prefers to carve a spear made of wood and repeatedly stabs the lake until results show. Xiao dislikes the old fashioned way, he says its unproductive and it unecissarily takes too much time. 

• But as much as he scared the whole town, they were extremely grateful when he cleaned up the slime issues happening in the mines. You could say that he grew very popular since then and eventually mustered up the courage to greet him a hello whenever he passes by. 

• You nudge him to reply back. Xiao usually shoots you a glare but slowly, he learns the courtesy of acknowledging someone's prescence.

• Fall: You woke up to a burnt smell coming from the kitchen. Xiao just thought he would return the favour since you always worked so hard. (He was actually trying to figure out what a 'whisk' was. It was no wonder why there were eggshells in the dish!)

• You realized that Xiao was taking more initation compared to before. At night, when you thought the animals were actively jumping in the barns, the noise was actually from Xiao trying to adjust himself to the ways of tending the field. After learning what TV was, he would always switch to the channel "Livin off the land" to gain some insight. Truly, Xiao was greatful even though he knew he eventually had to return to his duties, he wanted to utilize the current days the best way he could. And what better way was it to just make you happy in return?

• Winter: This was the season to test the accumulation of Xiao's abilities: you caught a cold and he had to manage everything in his own. Xiao scolded you for not wearing enough and being too careless but at the same he considered that you must've been working too hard.

• Goes to Robin for help. She basically became his mom now. Prepares the food and leaves them in the fridge, she teaches Xiao how to use the phone in case he needed any help and also lets him know where all the essentials are. 

• Xiao stayed by your side the whole time even though you told him you'd be fine. But he refuses, he may no longer be a gaurdian but he was your gaurdian. That role never changed.

~~x~~

Zhongli

• You wake up on a soft bed with Zhongli sitting at a chair nearby. He hands you a cup of brewed water but you're still blatlantly confused. Seems like everything was taken care of by Zhongli, it ends up with him explaining everything to you. 

• The folks instantly assumes you both as a married couple. Who could blame them? He did carry your unconcious body all the way to town while asking for a local doctor. You can bet that the ladies wish they were you at that moment. Zhongli took care of everything, including with the contract with the new farm.

• It didn't take long for you both to adjust to the new lifestyle. Zhongli's accumulated knowledge was enough to last all four seasons. Days past by peacefully as you shared the tasks. He'd place down the stone paths towards the gate and you busied yourself with decorating the house. After that was done, Zhongli would rest upon the rocking chair outside your door (like the grandpa he is) and sometimes you'd join him in one reading session. His voice was soothing, you eventually dipped into a slumber as the evening grew colder. Just like always, your beloved brings his arm to encapsulate you from the wind, brushing his thumb against your skin subconciously while you snore softly into his shoulder.

• In a way, the townsfolk were right. You both do act like a married couple. It's basically domestic life with Zhongli in a nutshell.

• He gets connected with Gunther and lands a role in the Museum. Since he's there so often, Zhongli also manages to be acquainted with Elliot as well. Two men who have a common interest with books while speaking in poetic prose. Their conversation would last for hours to the point Gunther had to kick them out of the library!

• Veeeery good with the children, not in an entertaining way but its just the aura he reeks. Penny usually had trouble dealing with Vincent since he never seems to be able to focus but the minute Zhongli speaks, he's all ears. Not only that he was also very good with the elderly. He even recommended some herbs George could take to soothe his back issues.

• Problem is that he still forgets to bring his wallet and Childe isn't here to save him. So once you stepped foot into the Stardrop Saloon and Gus calls you over, he tells you about the cost he owed to his tab….

• But this tranquil life full of genuinity and deprived of sovereignty, he was overjoyed to be able to spend it with you. Because he knew you were unlike him, that all humans were born with an expiry date. He knew so well that after every new greeting, he would have to face the goodbyes over and over until the world eventually came to an end. He knew you were also going to be part of those many goodbyes while he would still be here.

• But as Zhongli walks amongst the fallen leaves, he remembered the beauty that carries within every new beginning. They brought him to you and he would never hesitate to trade his gnosis for it.

Spring: You shot up your bed when Zhongli blast the TV at full volume. He apologizes, saying that he was simply trying to change the channel. You figured it was best for him to go outside before he somehow glitches the screen until it couldn't repair itself (Robin charges for repairs).

• Every thursday you both go to Pierre's store to complete your grocery shopping. He offers to push the cart as you fill the basket with all the necessities (plus it saves you the trouble of having him tossing whatever he sees without looking at the price tag).

• Every afternoon you order a take out from the Saloon, sharing the meal while sitting at the fountain's edge near the community center. Every evening Zhongli would take you to explore the rest of the vast farmland, discovering places you weren't even aware of. It was no wonder why everyone thought you were a married couple. 

• Summer: Since the cabin was too small for a bathroom, you guys would have to travel up the mountains in order to get to the Spa house (cue sweatiness x10). 

• The concept of hotsprings was derived from Inazuma so it was no surprise that Liyue eventually took it after him. Zhongli had collected some incense from foraging items over the past few months, he knows whats up. But overall he gives the best bath sessions (hands down) and you were the one who insisted in joining him.  He was a gentle and sweet lover, always putting your needs before his. Ancient artifacts and old history books have always been precious to him, he treated you no differently.

The heartbeat of the oceans continues to rock back and forth until they brush up on the sandy shore, washing away the two pairs of footprints left behind by a man and a woman.

Gold against gold, his amber eyes reflected against the scenery. Millions of lights flashed among the sea when the sun began to climb down from the sky, it's rays hugged across the valley like an ethereal glow bestowed by the heavens as summer's wind brought even more warmth than what he had currently felt. You trance ahead of with the same light shaping around your form. 

"Oh hey there's another rainbow shell," you waved at him before running off, "I'll be back!"

How is it that you still continue to shine like gold in his memories?

Zhongli suddenly ponders at the chapters laying ahead of him. He spent so many years turning each page without ever reaching a conclusion, forever searching the fabled happy endings written in fairytale books, but he knew his immortality wouldn't grant him that wish.

Thus, the formal archon raised his pen and reweaves his own story. He envisions his future with you by his side, engraving every detail until it was immortalized in his memories.

Perhaps I shouldn't keep her waiting.

With a renewed resolve, Zhongli clutches the gemstone tightly in his palm, he seals the page with the final contract between your future and his.

• Fall: After getting your first house upgrade, it was time for the next event: the ceremony. Yes, Zhongli would only have a wedding if Liyue traditions were involved. Everyone was invited of course, they were quite intrigued with the flashy setup such as lanterns and fireworks (you were a little worried with where he got the budget for such items) and Zhongli even educated Gus about some recipes he can use for the Saloon.

• You found out that Zhongli was saving all his money for this day (it was no wonder that he couldn't pay for his tab!). Old habits die hard, it was a shame that he didn't have his powers to craft the right items, but at least he got to sea you in a traditional eastern dress (it's the part he was looming forward to the most).

• Fall is the best season. One you wouldn't forget.

• Winter: Ah he finally learns how to use  technology after three seasons. He only knows two channels from the TV which was 'Livin off the Land' and the weather channel. Zhongli oftens talks to himself as he tries to figure out more mechanics, he seems to be extremely absorbed in the most basic things.

• The miner of the house. But instead of using them to upgrade tools and donating them to the museum, Zhongli likes to keep some of them for collection. You could say your house also had a little museum in the other room.

• Romcom movies and soap operas. You can't change my mind that this is what you both spend your time watching as the snowstorm rages outside. 

[mackeydoodledoo]

A Real Hero

Pairing: Daniela Dimitrescu x (Fem!Daughter of Ares)Reader

Summary: You were lost. You needed to fend for yourself. You were the runt of Ares’ kids. Yes, the god of war himself had told you that you were the runt of the pack, making you fall behind everyone else. However, meeting a certain red-head has you making other plans.

Warnings: Fighting, Small amount of Blood, Supposed Death

A/n: So, I’m Poseidon’s kid... But, I may or may not have a idea for a daughter of Poseidon to be paired with one of the other two daughters. 

“Supermassive Black Hole” - Muse [Play this when Joan splits off with Daniela to go hunting]

---------------------------------------------------------------------

You had nowhere to go. You were shunned out by your brothers and sisters. Even your own father. You were the runt of the children of Ares. Meaning, you were the weakest link. Your own father had dropped you off at the same very forest. Haven’t heard from him, your mother or your siblings since.

Come on Joan... You got this...

You were exhausted. The glistening sweat rolled off your now toned arms as you were practicing your sword play skills. The tree however, wasn't so lucky. All of its peeled bark, all of its scars. Came from you. It looked like it was on the brink of death.

“Not so tough now are you?” You try to stupidly intimidate the nearly dead tree

God you sound stupid right now...

You take one heavy slash to the tree; it begins tumbling down. However, just as you about to chop it further, you hear a scream. Panic sets in as you immediately grab hold of the tree stump. You initially struggle to keep the other end of the tree’s weight. However, You shove it to the side, groaning in pain, clutching at your shoulder.

“Are you okay?” You ask, running over to the woman who screamed

Just barely grazing her shoulder with your finger, you wince in pain.

“Am I okay?!” She asks, turning to look at you, “Are you okay?! You’re the one who- oh my god...”

The other woman was in shock, but also intrigued. 

She looks down at your finger; blood... But, it wasn’t the crimson shade kind of blood. What was seeping out of your finger was a thick and Silver colored.

“How is your blood like that?” She asks, observing your finger like a gentle specimen

“It’s always been like this,” You chuckle

“Does it actually taste like blood?!” She asks

You look at her; her eyes dilated with curiosity. You look down at your feet, trying to come up with the best answer for her.

“How am I supposed to know?” You ask her, “I’ve never been one to taste my own blood.”

“Then let me be the first one,” She says, her tone dropping to a low, seductive tone

“Hey! What are you-” You protest

But it was too late. The tip of her tongue had ran right over the small prick in your finger. Your eyes widen as she begins gagging.

“Oh that was vile!” She wretches

“I tried warning you to not do that,” You chuckle, “But, did you listen?”

She punches your shoulder as she continues to gag out the contents of your blood.

“But for real though, how did you do that?” She asks

“Do.. What?” You ask her

“The... The.. You picked up a whole damn tree!” She exclaims, “No mortal could do that!” 

“That’s because I’m.. Not fully mortal...” Your voice trails off

“You’re... Not?” She asks, her eyes widening once more

“Demigod.. To be precise..” You begin explaining, “It’s when an immortal falls in love with a mortal... And they have kids... Kids like me.”

The woman doesn’t answer you...

Great... She’s freaked out...

“So... Let me get this straight... You’re... Half immortal?” She asks

Girl’s clueless...

“Technically.. Yes,” You answer her

“Wait until mother and my sisters hear when I bring you home,” She wickedly smiles

Wait.. What?...

When you opened your eyes you no longer found yourself basking in the sunshine.

“Just check her blood! She really is half immortal!” The familiar voice 

“Daniela, quit your games,” Another feminine voice calls to the sole familiar voice

“What is the meaning of this?” An older, robust yet soothing feminine voice walks in

“Daniela claims that she’s found a half immortal,” Another feminine voice says, but more hungrier than the other three

“But mother it’s true!” Daniela claims, “Look at her blood!” 

“Enough... Daniela,” The older woman sighs

By the time the arguing had died down, your fingers held your temples as you groaned in pain.

“Half-immortal,” The older woman calls to you

“Ow... What?” You look up

You had to adjust your neck in a slightly uncomfortable position as you stare straight up into the most giantess woman you have ever encountered.

“Tell me child...” She starts, “What is your name?”

“Joan...” You answer, “Joan Arc...”

“Are you truly half immortal?” She asks

“I am...” You say without a second thought

“Then prove it,” The blonde demands

“Now now Bela,” The older woman calms her blonde daughter, “But that you shall do for us.”

“What happens if I refuse?” You ask, standing on your two feet

“We’ll feed your scraps to the pigs,” The brunette growls 

“Cassandra enough!” Daniela demands, grabbing her sisters’ wrist

Cassandra turns to the red head and begins growling at her like a primal animal. You were about to step in before you see the older woman beginning to raise her hand.

“Cassandra... Daniela,” She sighs, “On this evening’s hunt she will accompany the three of you. Cassandra...”

The brunette straightens herself out when the woman called her name. 

“Do show her the armory for this evening,” She gently commands

“Of course mother,” She answers, “Half and half.”

Cassandra turns to you.

Great... A nickname already...

“You coming or not?” She asks

You walk towards her as you felt claw-like fingernails dig into your skin as you are bragged out of what looked to be the bedchambers. You catch a glimpse of Daniela; the woman you had saved from earlier in the day. You give her a small smile before Cassandra rounds the corner, knocking you into the doorframe.

“Come on,” Cassandra growls

“So... Half and half,” Cassandra teases at your nickname, taking a gaze at the weapons in the armory room

“It’s Joan,” You correct her coldly

“What brought you to our castle grounds anyway?” She asks, completely ignoring your correction

“Actually your sister... Daniela brought me here against my will so...” You joke, but also tell the truth

“She doesn’t know when to stop bringing toys into the castle,” Cassandra sighs

Toys?... Is she for real?...

“I was cast off, unwanted by my own father,” You explain, “I was the weakest of his kids... All of my siblings had their backs turned to me when I was casted out of the cabin...”

“That’s rough...” Cassandra sighs

You weren’t sure if Cassandra was continuing to mock you or she actually felt bad about your situation.

“Anyway though, I’m kind of happy that I’m out of there,” You add, “My siblings were a bunch of assholes anyway.”

“I could say the same for my sisters... We’re always trying to out-best each other to please mother... It’s getting tiring honestly.” She sighs

“Then don’t do it to please your mother,” You say, grabbing a sword off of the weapons rack, “Do it so it makes you happy.”

With your back turned to Cassandra, you begin putting your hair up to a ponytail.

“What’s that?” She asks

“What’s what?” You ask

“The thing on the back of your neck,” Cassandra helps, “What is it?”

My birthmark... Well, just a mark...

“The Mark of Ares,” You answer, “All the children of Ares have this specific mark.”

[A/n: Not much but I tried lol]

You nod, “Not the glamorous life as a god though.”

“So you really are half and half huh?” Cassandra continues asking

After grabbing a couple of armor plates, you arm yourself with a sword and a spear. You follow Cassandra back to the main hall where the other three women were waiting for the both of you. 

“All set?” The tall woman asks

“Yes mother,” Cassandra says

You simply nod as you follow them out to what looked like horse stables. However, you only see enough for the four of them.

Great... Will I have to be the one running on foot?

“Joan,” Daniela calls, horse already galloped in front of you

She simply holds out her hand for you to grab. You let out a smile as you take her hand. You were astonished by the amount of strength Daniela had when she pulled you up onto the back of her horse. 

“Strong,” You smile, resting your palms on her curved hipline

“You better hold on tight,” Daniela flirts

As soon as the stable doors opened fully, Daniela slams the reigns on her horse and the horse bolts past the other three. You let out a startled yelp as Daniela’s horse bursts out of the stables and out into the familiar warmth. You hold onto Daniela for dear life; your head against the back of her neck as you hear her giggling.

“The half immortal is scared of a horse ride?” Daniela teases you

“Caught me off guard is all,” You gently chuckle

Daniela continues to giggle as you ease your grip on her slightly. You look over your shoulder and see the other three horses following behind, slowly gaining to where you and Daniela were. You looked along the tree line to see the sunset beginning to dwindle down below the horizon.

“Why hunt at night?” You ask

“It’s too stuffy during the day,” Daniela explains to you, “It’s tolerable... For a certain amount of time.”

You stop at a river that was relatively near the castle for the horses to rest and hydrate as the four of you begin to tread through the woods to go hunting. 

“Why don’t the both of you go hunt on your own, go teach Daniela some hunting techniques would you?” Bela suggests

“Hey!” Daniela yelps, “I can hunt well on my own thank you very much.”

“I’d certainly could ask Artemis to give Daniela some hunting lessons but who the hell knows where she is,” You explain, “Come on Dani.”

Daniela takes you by the wrist and yanks you close to her as the both of you begin walking along the forest trees in hopes to get any kills before dawn arrives.

“Have you.. Actually hunted before?” Daniela asks

“After months of fending for my own,” You say, “Mostly spear-fishing... Spear is normally my main weapon but if I want to go more rough n tough, a sword.”

“Shouldn’t the half immortals be expertise in various weapons?” Daniela teases you

“A lot of Demigods would have their specified weapons,” You say, “Watch and learn baby.”

You roll up your pant legs and your sleeves. You strip off your shoes and slowly begin stepping into the ice-cold riverbank. further to your right was a giant waterfall. You could hear the loud running water go over the edge of the drop.

“If I only had Night vision,” You sigh 

“On your right,” Daniela calls out to you

You immediately spear to your right. Once you had lifted the spear, you had sworn the spear had gained more top end weight.

“How did you?...” You turn to Daniela

“I mostly go hunting at night,” Daniela smiles, “So my eyesight works best during the night.”

“That’s good to have,” You smile

You and Daniela continue spear-fishing as the night progresses through. 

“Have you caught a bear before?” Daniela asks

“No,” You say

“Why don’t we go and catch one?” Daniela suggests

“Well, how would you do it Daniela?” You ask her

“Why are you asking me?” Daniela asks

“Because one, you’re the one suggesting it and two, why don’t you lead a hunt for once,” You smile

Daniela looks at you as you emerge from the riverbank and begin making a makeshift basket to place all of the fish in. 

“You sure know how to craft,” Daniela just simply watches you make

“A lot of things were learned while living on my own out here,” You smile as you look up at her

You stop weaving the basket when Daniela is just kneeling in front of you. 

“You okay Daniela?” You ask her, clearing your throat

“I’m okay,” She answers, inching her way closer to you, “You?”

“I’m fine,” You answer, a bubble caught in your throat, “What-what are you doing right now?” 

“I... Like you..” Daniela says

“Daniela!” You yell

You coil an arm around her waist line as you try to get up but you tumble forward. You look up and see a bear letting out a roar. With your spear crushed under the bears’ foot, you draw your sword and begin swinging, in hopes of it being scared and runs off. However, you stop once it began growling. 

“Joan!” Daniela yells

You felt your body land onto the ground as the sword is knocked from your grip. You immediately prop yourself on your elbows and turn your head.

“Daniela!” You yell to her

Like Hell I’m about to lose her....

Your legs suddenly spring upward, pivoting as fast as they could. You break into a run as the bear begins to stand on its hind legs. You didn’t even think to take your weapon back into your hand as you use your body to slam yourself into the bear.

“Hey!” You call to Daniela

She looks at you.

“I... Like you too,” You smile

“Joan... Joan!!” Daniela screams

As quick as Daniela could, she scampers up to her feet and dives after you, only to come a hare too late. You and the bear had plummeted towards the sharp-rocked bottom of the waterfall.

“JOAN!!!!” Daniela banshee screams as she watches you both and the bear disappear into the misty waters below

“Daniela?!” Alcina calls out

Alcina, Cassandra and Bela emerge from the tree line, beelining it to her. Alcina pulls her youngest daughter into her arms as Daniela lets out wailing sobs.

“We were trying to hunt a bear and- and- I almost got killed but-” Daniela chokes on her sobs, “Joan went over the edge protecting me.. With- with the bear...” 

“I’m sorry my daughter,” Alcina sighs, “The hunt is over. Back to the castle. Now.”

“But-But Joan is still down there!” Daniela begs her mother

“No one survives that drop,” Alcina states, “Not even a half immortal like Joan. We have to go now.”

Daniela doesn’t argue with her mother. She follows her mother and sisters back to their horses to take back to the castle stables. 

I’m sorry Joan...

Night was slowly dissipating as Daniela lay across her bed, crying to herself. She didn’t care about how bad she smelled from the outside world. She was upset at herself for not catching you in time just before you plummeted to your death.

“Daniela?” Bela calls out

“What Bela?...” Daniela wipes away her tears 

“Someone’s in the main hall with Cassandra,” Bela says, less enthusiastic

Daniela dissipates into flies as well as Bela. Daniela follows her sister and as soon as Bela busts the doors open, Daniela felt her heart throb.

“Joan?...” Daniela calls out, materializing into her human form

“Finally,” Cassandra sighs as she pushes your batters and bloodied body towards Daniela

Daniela catches your almost limp body. But, you manage with all of your strength you had left, you wrap your arms around Daniela's neck as she struggles to keep you on your feet.

"I thought you were..." Daniela says

"Dead?" You finish her sentence

Daniela takes you to her bedchambers and begins stripping away whatever was left of the armor and your ripped clothing.

"Ow..." You groan

"Do you... Remember what happened after you plummeted down the waterfall?" Daniela asks

"Well, what I do remember is that the bear wasn't anywhere to be found by the time I had come to. I was bleeding a lot. But, obviously being a Demigod, my slow regeneration process began. But. Took me forever though. Everything still hurts like hell..." You sigh

You lowly gasp as you felt Daniela's long, cold fingers caress your body as she applies the bandages.

"I'm sorry," She whimpers

"It's okay. You're just really cold..." You sigh, smiling

You could feel Daniela's eyes on you as she moved directly behind you. You could feel the tension between the both of you.

"I meant what I said too," You say

You feel her fingers begin coiling around your ribcage and her head resting on your shoulder.

"I know," She whispers into your ear

You sweep your arm underneath Daniela and pull her into your lap.

"Joan!..." Daniela gasps

It doesn't take Daniela long to settle herself in your lap as her wicked smile sweeps across her face.

"Awwww you're blushing," Daniela coos

"Shut up..." You growl playfully

"Well then maybe you should make me," She smirks, her wicked giggle coming out

[A/n: Here is a character board for Joan Arc]

[a-is-for-abel]

“It’s a very odd sensation, standing over your own grave.” prompt from @givethispromptatry

Crows barked, throaty and dry, from their perch high in the gnarled branches of the tree at the head of the cemetery. The letters etched into the granite before him shined and the heavy mist settled over his shoulders, oppressive and thick.

He counted the crows in the tree, a rhyme coming to mind as the black winged birds called into the fog. "One for sorrow, two for mirth, three for a funeral… Four-- Four for..."

A funeral… His brow furrowed. The name on the gravestone drew him back in and he eyed the letters. Bells from the steeple of a church coughed in the distance.

"It's a very odd sensation, standing over your own grave." He turned to see a man leaned against a tall gravestone, a lit cigarette in his fingers. "But you seem to be taking it rather well."

The man flicked a lick of hellish embers off the end and took a long drag. Smoke trailed from his lips and curled over his salt-flat empty eyes. "Say, you haven't died before have you? That'd make this a bit awkward-- See, I don't really do the whole doing someone else's do-over. Those contracts tend to get a little messy, if you know what I mean."

Dressed sharply in a suit jacket and trousers to match, the man didn't stand out quite that oddly against the backdrop of a graveyard. However, with no procession, he was out of place without the rest of the mourners to stand shoulder to shoulder with.

It was even harder not to notice the way he stood a little too tall, a little too pale, and a little too thin...

And the eyes--

He couldn't remember having ever seen eyes like that. Though, he also really couldn't remember how he had gotten here either.

The man frowned, cigarette dangled from his lips. "You're not very talkative are you. That's gonna make this a little hard if you don't at least start asking some questions."

"Who are you?" he asked, voice hoarse.

"Ah, there it is-- Everyone always starts with that one. Never a 'where am I, how'd I get here', it's always the who are you?" The man shrugged. "I got a lot of names, kid. Just make one up, it'll probably be better that way."

Paul. It was the first name that came to mind, risen like the valleys of weathered hands and deep-set wrinkles the name brought with it.

"Paul?" The man hissed, eyes scrunching as he flicked the cigarette onto the ground and ground it out with the toe of his dress shoe. "Wow, you're real bad at this. Look, I'll settle for something like, uh-- How's Paal sound? Good? Great."

Even as Paal dismissed it, he tried to latch onto the name Paul and the hands that came with it. Somehow, he knew those hands had shown him how to hold a chisel and carve with the grain and not against it. That they had smoothed down his hair and lain flat against the crown of his skull as the other drew a new line against the door jamb, and he had childishly smiled at the inch gap that had grown between it and the old one below.

"Well, now that we got names out of the way--" Paal reached into his coat and pulled free a scroll. "Let's get down to business."

The parchment unfurled with a dry cough, ink dripped over the page and rearranged itself into letters that shimmered, ruddy and wet.

"So, for starters, my contracts are pretty straightforward. I don't do all that funny business the others do." Paal pointed to the second line. "The overall payment is going to be your eternal soul, of course. The only exception I'll make here is if you can name something of equal value and I also deem said thing of equal value. Now, don't get all excited. Not a lot of things add up to a human soul. Unless you'll be trading someone's else's soul as your payment. Simple math and all of that."

His eternal soul? He looked at the cross atop the gravestone and wine-dipped stained glass and the pulpit of a church flitted to the forefront along with it.

"We on the same page here? You look a little lost?" Paal asked, tilting his head.

"Sorry, I just--" He furrowed his brow. "Am I dead?"

Paal pointed to the grave. "Is that your body in there?"

"I--" He looked at his hands. "I think so."

"I wouldn't say I'm a genius myself, but I think we can both put two and two together here."

He grit his teeth. "Right…"

"Fantastic-- Now, onto the good stuff." Paal pointed further down the parchment. "So, in exchange for said eternal soul, I grant you a few things. First off, you get to get up on your own two feet and walk out of that grave. A pretty good deal, right?"

"Deals go two ways."

"See, now you're catching on--" Paal pointed at him and then tapped the next line on the scroll. "Alright, so it's pretty damn expensive to bring a soul back to life. Maker's got an idea in mind and tampering with that's always gonna cost you a little extra."

"Do you mean money? I don't exactly..." He held his hands out, the empty state of his pockets hopefully obvious.

Paal laughed. "Money? What the hell am I going to do with money? No, no, no-- I need a favor."

"A favor?" He asked, eyes narrowing.

"Yeah! A favor. something pretty simple, actually. But to get that body back and with all your precious little memories intact, you gotta do something to pay for that. More than just signing off your soul, that is."

"And who exactly am I paying back?"

Paal grimaced. "You're asking questions you really don't want the answers to, kid."

"Fine." He rubbed at his jaw. "What's the favor then?"

"Bounty hunting. Or collecting, I guess?" Paal gestured vaguely. "Whatever-- Basically, a few folks deferred on their contracts and I need to collect on their souls a little early."

"How early is early?" he asked, squinting.

"Well, I'd say I'm a pretty generous dealer. I give you about how much worldly time you should've had-- Had things not gone absolutely shit for you." Paal held up a finger. "So, in this case, I'd be collecting these souls well before they croak from becoming all ripe and old like they normally would've."

"So, I get my life back..." He chewed the inside of his cheek and glanced at the cross on the gravestone. "Is that it?"

"Is that it?'" Paal mocked and then grinned. "Look at you, already driving a hard bargain."

"You wouldn't have come to me if my soul wasn't worth something."

"Did you come to that astonishing conclusion all by yourself?" Paal said flatly.

He glanced over the demon.

Or devil... Or whatever hellish equivalent he was supposed to be. The lack of the classic horns or even a tail made it hard to pin any kind of fiendish charm to him. Besides the eyes and the pallor of someone who's never seen the light of day, he looked rather ordinary...

And his memories, few and far between-- muddled even-- like he was reliving them from underwater-- As unreliable as those memories were, he still remembered sitting upon a pew in a sun-washed room, a pastor at the head of the church, attesting how the devil would always wager in ways that would seem fair and just, but never were.

"What else do I get?"

"Greedy, aren't you? Fine." Paal rolled up the scroll part way and pointed at a line halfway down. "You can't die. At least while you're contracted under me to collect souls. If you call on me and I deem the request reasonable enough I can and will help you. Think of it like, uh-- Praying to a guardian angel. Except I'm absolutely nothing like that and I'll actually show up."

"And collecting on these contracts? What does that entail?"

"Killing them, for starters." Paal said simply. "I can't exactly grab their souls when they're still kicking around like that. And a lot of them have found ways to sort of, eh-- protect themselves from me. But you're just a bag of bones, maybe a little bit juiced up when I'm done with you, but you'll be human enough."

He didn't feel like picking that last aside apart too much. "So, you want me to kill for you?"

"Yes."

"How exactly?"

Paal flicked his hand and the scroll snapped out of sight with a thwick. Reaching into his jacket, he pulled free a revolver. Six-shot, shined, scarred with engravings up and down the muzzle and wrapped around the barrel. Handle a bone-white ivory, pale and unblemished.

Paal held it out to him. "With this."

Dropped into his palms with little fanfare, he cradled it, as if a newborn lamb. He glanced up from the gunmetal shine after a beat. "I can't shoot."

"Oh, you won't have to. You just have to aim." Paal formed his fingers into a mock-gun and pointed it at his forehead before mouthing ‘pow'. "It does all the hard work for you. Unless you're into that kind of thing, then by all means I'll take the training wheels off of it and let you do the trigger pulling."

"No…" he swallowed, careful to keep the muzzle pointed away from himself. "Training wheels is fine."

"Fantastic. Do we have a deal then? All of this--" Paal gestured to the whole of him. "--for the meager, one time price of doing a simple chore for me."

He stared flatly.

"And your eternal soul after you've lived a long and happy life, but that's just semantics," Paal laughed, waving him off.

He tilted the gun in his palms and glanced down at his pockets. It wouldn't exactly fit very well… "Is there a holster?"

"Oh, right--" Paal patted his chest and fished around in his suit jacket before drawing out a belt. "Here. It's a bit used, but at least it's already worn in, right?"

Mottled stains scattered the edges of the leather belt and where intricate markings had been stamped and tooled into the holster itself.

"Thanks…" he said, pinching it between two fingers while trying to find a good way to hold the pistol with his other hand.

"Woah, don't sound too grateful there, champ," Paal said. "You'd think I wasn't about to do you the biggest favor of your life."

He paused in his inspection of the holster and gave Paal the flattest look he could muster.

"Get it?" Paal's grin dropped. "Not a funny guy then… Noted."

Finally, managing to holster the gun he slipped the belt around his waist and fumbled with the buckle before fastening it. "How exactly do we seal the deal?"

"Eager, are we?" Paal held out his hand. "Just shake my hand and that's it. None of that writ in blood nonsense."

He wrinkled his nose.

Paal flexed his fingers and held his hand out further. "Look, if you really need me to draw up a traditional contract and give you a copy, I can do that too, but it's dreadfully boring and I do enough paperwork as it is. I mean, what do you have to lose, honestly? You're already dead. I'm just offering you a second chance… and a little bit of revenge."

"Revenge?"

"No one ends up dead in a ditch with a pack of dogs eating their face without being fucked over somewhere along the road."

"I don't…" He knitted his brow. "It's hard to remember."

"Oh, it'll be like that for a bit. It gets better once we get everything settled. Trust me though, you've got quite the bone to pick with someone back up there. And I for one would love to see how it all pans out."

"This is a form of entertainment for you," he said flatly, eyeing the still outstretched hand.

"What's the harm in mixing business and pleasure?" Paal smirked. "Plus it'll be fun to see what you do."

"Can you not bring back the memories now?"

Paal tutted. "That's quite expensive, and we haven't made a deal yet."

"How do I know I even want to go back then?"

"Does it even matter who you were before if you get a re-do?"

He looked at the name on the gravestone. "Won't they recognize me?"

"Oh, no-- Uh, see, you're not going back into your original body." Paal grimaced. "I can only repair so much and those dogs really did a number on you."

"Great…"

"Don't worry though, I got a good one picked out for you. Close enough to be uncanny even. Just some little differences, barely noticeable."

He grimaced.

"Don't you humans love taking leaps of faith? What's with all the hemming and hawing? What happened to all that stupid recklessness?"

"Not all of us are stupid."

Paal groaned. "I would get stuck with the biggest coward this side of the Mississippi."

'Look, it's lil' yellow-bellied Bern!'

'Just take it from him. He's not gonna do shit-- He'd flinch at a fly if it looked at him wrong.'

'Pa said he's soft. That his own daddy made him like that.'

He blinked, flinching and scrunching up his eyes at the sudden, sharp jab that needled at his skull. "I'm not a coward."

"Then take my hand."

His head pounded, and if he really was dead he wondered why he could still feel that out of everything. If the sweat pricked along the back of his neck was more memory than actual sensation, or if the way his tongue had grown heavy in his jaw was all made up too. He eyed Paal's hand and the discolored fingernails, the sheet white skin, the odd scarring along the knuckles and on the palms.

'Leave and don't you ever come back here. And if I ever see you again, you'll be begging the devil to take your soul from me first.'

He grit his teeth, fingers curling into fists.

The voice bit across his cheek like knuckles, like blood on his tongue and smattered across his hands. It curled like snake oil and melted wax, like the dust settled over the rafters of an ever empty church and like floorboards stained with drying flecks of rust.

He reached for Paal's hand and Paal grabbed his wrist instead, wrapped his fingers around him and squeezed, hard enough he twisted with the motion. Paal didn't budge, no matter how he pried at him, and the hand burned-- Burned the way laying your palm across a sheet of ice stung and wormed its way deeper and deeper the longer you left it there.

He stumbled as Paal released him, clutching at his wrist and hissing. "What the hell?"

"Part of the contract. It'll fade in a second."

The burning stopped and when he let go of his wrist, a coiling band of white took its place. Sat snugly, flat and lined with black, was an ivory snake wrapped three times about his wrist. The head of the serpent rested along the heel of his thumb, eyes a nearly translucent blue. It faded, still standing out against his skin, more like an impossibly pale tattoo and less like the actual snake it was a moment ago. His arm ached dully with it, like he had come in from a long frigid day, and his fingers cramped as the feeling returned to the very tips of him.

"Oh, right-- You'll be needing bullets." Paal grabbed his hand and dropped a freezing piece of metal into it.

More followed as Paal fished around in his suit jacket for them. At the fourth one Paal paused. "What was that little rhyme you were doing before I arrived? I rather enjoy that one. The ending is always my favorite."

He watched where the bullets settled in his palm. The casings a blood-red ebony and the bullet itself the shade of bone.

"And four for birth…" Paal dropped another bullet. "Five for heaven..." Another. "And six for hell," Paal said with a smirk, manually curling his hand around the bullets and patting it. "Now keep track of those, they're not exactly easy to make."

He didn't tell Paal that he didn't finish the poem, that there was still one more line that needed to be said to complete it. Instead, he pocketed the bullets.

"Walk with me a sec--" Paal grabbed his shoulder and nudged him forward.

They meandered along the lines of graves, passing headstones that varied in shape and size, some cared for, with flowers and candles and even worn sepia photos left at their feet. Others were less fortunate. Grown over, dulled, and abandoned.

They stopped before one with a less modest headstone. A large stone cross jutted up from the top and an angel carved above the name of the soul that was laid to rest below their feet.

"You know, I really do think this is the start of a great partnership..."

He raised a brow.

"Marcus J. Bern--" He flinched at the name, not expecting it to fall from Paal's mouth so casually. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you."

He hesitated, shoulders drawing up, hand coming to rest on the gun at his hip. "Uh, you too…?"

Paal smiled, like he found that amusing. And he hadn't noticed how sharp his teeth looked until he was staring the oversized canines dead in the face.

"Now--" Paal said, placing his hands on his shoulders, dusting them off before squeezing lightly. "This might hurt a bit."

"What--"

Paal shoved him.

He fell and fell and the earth swallowed him whole.

Dirt and silt and death surrounded him. Impossibly endless and vast, the grave didn't catch him as it should have. And the chill that bit at his limbs gnawed feverishly, right down to the core of him until he felt a yell clog up with the hallowed ground packed against his tongue. Further and further he descended, gut flipping and twisting with him, until he thought this would be his new forever. That Paal had lied to him, and he would simply be doomed to free fall for the rest of eternity, until all returned to dust as it had once emerged and longer still.

Light broke up the darkness overhead and he reached for it, arm outstretched. The white snake coiled around his wrist writhed and burned at the first touch of it and dripping with pale ichor, his veins stood out a ghastly silver against him. A venom coursed through him as it wound further and further down, closer and closer to where his heart had thrummed to life and kicked against his ribs in a fevered fit. He clutched at his chest as the ground-- as something-- hurtled towards him.

Breath slammed into him with a rattling gasp and his eyes shot open.

Blinded, he blinked and squinted against the grace of a new day, trembling and shaking where he had woken upon the dirt. The cross of the gravestone cast a merciful shadow over him and he could see the tangled fingers of the tree beyond it.

Raucous caws chorused above him. A murder of crows dotted the grey sky overhead, having flighted from their perches high in the dead limbed oak.

One, two, three, four, five, six--

"And seven for the devil, his own self..." he muttered, hand falling to his hip and the gun now holstered there.

[pain-in-the-butler]

The time has come once again

The Bloodbath

“I’m simply one hell of a butler” says Sebastian as he starts cleaning as usual

Okay so Agni’s taking no prisoners

Work Nerd, Science Nerd, and Jock Nerd team up to form the Nerd Trifecta

Team One Brain Cell joins up with Phipps, who is quite possibly their only chance for survival

Ran-Mao remembers how Harcourt beat everyone in the unfortunately deleted round and said “Not in my backyard”

So far, everyone else has simply run away unscathed or grabbed a weapon they won’t use because the game doesn’t record weapons. Rip Tanaka

Day 1

Ran-Mao bringing the canon energy by adding a second weapon to her arsenal

Phipps somehow always turns into Team Dad during these, so I’m glad to see he’s finding time for his favorite hobbies

Undertaker up to his usual Sneaky Antics

It hasn’t even been twelve hours yet. Kind of impressive honestly

Considering Harcourt lost his mace, I’ll just assume the attack Grell “escaped” from was the vicious stabbing of his trim little schoolboy fingernails

Bad vibes

It appears that Lau also brought his canon game

Sebastian in the most recent chapters be like

I’ve actually never had this event come up before and it has to happen between two of the more innocent characters in the series;;;; god Lizzie you deserve better even in the Hunger Games Simulator

Where’s a Safety Nerd when you need one

What’s better than this? Guys bein dudes

This is probably what happened after Ciel left Weston

Sebastian will take care of this for ya, huh bud

Other events:

Agni practices his archery

Wolfram goes fishing

Othello finds a cave

Soma goes ‘splorin

Edward goes huntin

Day 1′s Deaths: Tanaka, Sieglinde, Lizzie, and Macmillan. Someday one of the ladies will win

Night 1

Butler slumber party in the woods, BYOYM (bring your own young master)

It takes a lot of energy to be this blond

I’m happy for her :)

Yeah I’ll bet you probably do Lau

A tonal shift so abrupt I got mental whiplash

Can we go back to when Grell was looking at the sky pls

Thought about science too hard. Got a concussion

Thought about Ciel dying too hard. Got an infection

Aww dad :( Hope you caught some fish tho

Looks like Harcourt won’t be winning this one, gang

I stg the hunger games simulator is misogynist because the ladies always DIE /j

Ran-Mao is hopefully here to prove the previous statement wrong

Other events:

Bard gets a hatchet

Undertaker also passes out from exhaustion

R!Ciel goes to sleep in a tree

Day 2

Oh you five are SO going in my burn book for this. It’s what Grell would’ve wanted

Ahaha just like in the real manga... right guys (;

Idk about you but I’m rooting for her

I don’t think the simulator could’ve picked four people who were less likely to team up than this

I would too if I saw my best friend was palling around with an opium dealer, a grim reaper with a lawn mower, and another grim reaper that the first grim reaper doesn’t like

Other events:

Othello chases Wolfram

That’s the only other event actually

That means today we lost O!Ciel, Mey-Rin, Harcourt, and Grell. ffs, I hope Ran-Mao kills all of you

Night 2

I’ve missed you, rare pair simulator

The “unknown sponsor” was Undertaker and the “fresh food” was O!Ciel

Confirmed: Lau doesn’t get high off his own supply

Once again a ceasefire between the strong hungry boys is formed

Girl, you don’t have to do that

“Did you kill Ciel?” Sebastian asks

“No that was William,” Othello says

Sebastian punches a tree so hard that it combusts. “God damn. Fuck” Sebastian says

Wolfram just realized I put him in the Hunger Games simulator

Other events:

Phipps thinks about “Are you winning son”

Undertaker gazes at space

Ronald becomes Lost Ronald

Soma passes out

Bard gets some water

Day 3

Damn Agni who haven’t you flirted with

Finny sees that Bard has water and thinks Bard cooked it himself, so he wants no part of that (might be burnt)

What did he even have that was worth stealing? A fish?

Well I can tell you who isn’t creating that smoke: Lau

“What’s worse than two young masters? No young masters. Now get over here and make a contract”

Everything about this sentence is a fever dream

Other events:

Undertaker decides he wants a slingy shot too

Edward chases Dad I mean Phipps

Othello gets some ouchies from picking berries

Night 3

When your young master dies, you just get an infection apparently

damn Finny’s playing hardball

I don’t think anything bad has actually happened to Bard yet. It’s just been a grand frolic the whole time

I barely remember reading the first Hunger Games but Ran-Mao’s the Foxface of this journey: she deserves to win and I just know she’ll die in the stupidest way possible

Sebastian’s like a cat that can’t reach the bird it wants to attack, so it attacks the nearest other thing instead. Poor Dad

Two white-haired anime boys and a not-white-haired anime boy talk about who will die tomorrow. Anime doesn’t exist yet so the white-haired anime boys don’t know their hair color automatically spells their doom

Other events:

Edward starts a fire, which means he’s capable of smoking opium

Ronald gets some medical supplies

Othello gets a hatchet

R!Ciel thinks about winning

Lau gets an entire explosive, but he won’t be able to light it, so no it’s no big deal

Day 4

In Soviet Hunger Games, white-haired anime boy kills you

But why murder someone when you could just mess with them

Other events:

Grey scares Bard

Finny goes hunting

Night 4

Have you four even killed anyone yet

The list of “people who didn’t start the manor fire and also don’t smoke opium” now consists of Lau and R!Ciel

The mood is too light now. Someone needs to die and it better not be Ran-Mao

At last, Father Phipps has chosen his son for this round

Agni gushes about all the hot guys he’s simultaneously in love with, giving Ran-Mao a clearer idea of who’s still alive

Day 5

Girl, it’s about time, go claim some trophies

Finny’s easily got the longest kill streak and it’s a little unnerving

Father Phipps finds a new secret fishing hole

Othello doesn’t

Lau continues to put in all the efforts of a kindergarten bully

Oh no. He’s a yandere

Other events:

Sebastian fucks around and explores the arena

Bard fucks around and hunts for tributes

Undertaker fucks around and sleeps

R!Ciel fucks around and picks flowers

Night 5

I’ve never met anyone who ships Sebastian/Undertaker but I know you’re out there

Okay, maybe these four are even less likely to team up than Phipps, Ronald, Undertaker, and Lau

Edward sees I’m making jokes about people who build fires and stays hidden

Day 6

Canonically, that is the only way R!Ciel would win a fight, so

I probably could have predicted this

I hope these are the faces they made when it happened

The “unknown sponsor” is R!Ciel and the “fresh food” is an ear that fell off his own head

I’m not sure if I should be concerned or unsurprised that Bard’s Hunger Games life is more chill than his canon life

the “unknown sponsor” was the fish and the “clean water” was “fish water”

Other events:

Ran-Mao gets her third weapon that she doesn’t want to use, which is a hatchet

Finny finds a river

Agni practices archery again, but he doesn’t kill anyone because he wants this to go on forever

Night 6

Ran-Mao I beg you please. Release us from this purgatory of mediocrity

And suddenly we’re back to canon Bard

I guess not everything can be canon

Other events:

Both Agni and Phipps pass out from exhaustion. It’s 2:50 a.m. so I should really be taking a page from their book, but unfortunately everyone refuses to die

The Feast

Finny has been a stone cold killer this entire match, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that the girl I wanted to win would get eliminated by him, but it still hurts ✌️😔

If you cheat on Othello, he will overpower you, killing you

Everyone else decided not to go to the Feast. Honestly, I don’t remember what the Feast is, but everyone who did go either murdered someone or got murdered, so I guess that was probably a good call

Day 7

I’ve had enough of this dude

Jesus Finny I can’t wait to see how many kills you got, I feel like you and Agni were the only two who took anyone down

Bard, Undertaker, Sebastian, and Phipps all hunt for other tributes but they’re useless and don’t kill anyone

Arena Event: Volcano Eruption

In one fell swoop, we lose Sebastian, Undertaker, R!Ciel, and Finny, jeez. But... that means it comes down to.............

FATHER PHIPPS VS. BARD

FATHER PHIPPS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Wow... Unlike his manga counterpart, this boy coasted the whole time and won... He basically went on vacation and he actually won... But then again, it’s Hunger Games Simulator and nothing is sacred

Well I hope you learned a valuable lesson today. I hope you did at some point before you read my post, because you sure as hell learned nothing from this. Thank you for wasting precious minutes of your life with me 😏

[shepard-ram]

Hello I'm light anon and i bring you the first chapter of an au i started awhile ago with the help of Ender anon (hi love you/p) , the supernatural au named Abnormalities and its very long

Abnormalities

Chapter One - Phasmophobia 2.5k words

:readmore:

“Prove it then.” 

Of course, Sap and Dream’s arguments always lead to some sort of challenge. Ever since you met them in middle school, it’s been like that. Sap would say something, Dream would fire back because Sap was clearly wrong in his eyes, and it would spiral from there. Today’s topic of debate: The existence of the paranormal. Specifically, ghosts.

What sparked it? A cheesy horror film you picked out for the monthly movie night. Your stereotypical ghost film with lazy jump scares with bad effects and acting.you only bought it so you four could laugh at it. You Guys laud sprawled on the couch while Sap took up the floor. All was well, Until Sap proclaimed that real ghosts wouldn’t be that shitty. Dream, heavily disagreed that ghosts even existed. George didn’t take a side but you backed Sap up. The world is to weird not to have ghosts in it.

”Oh absolutely.” Sap nodded, agreeing with your assessment.

Dream rolled his eyes “Sure, sure, just how are you going to prove me wrong? There isn’t a ‘haunted building’ anywhere in town.”

 At that moment George decided to speak up “What about the old willbeck farm?, the one a couple miles out of town. I always heard it was haunted by a kid or something.”

“That stupid place?  Those were just stories are parents told us to keep us from trespassing.”

You shrugged. “It’s a start.”

Next thing you know, you and sap blew your paychecks on ghost hunting equipment. You ordered the basics, an EMF meter, a good camera, a thermometer, you even bought a ‘Spirit box’ and some smudge sticks, all too spite Dream who complained that you were being scammed. 

You both ended up begging George to use his car to load up your equipment as he was the only one to have a large enough car for your equipment. He relented after a day of relentless begging. 

The Willbeck farm was a 40 minute drive from your home, which left a lot of room for discussion.

“You three are idiots.” 

You leaned forward to poke your head over the passenger seat. “You didn’t have to come, you know. You could have stayed back and do boring things like dressing up patches or something.”

He turned his head with narrowed eyes. “And make sure you guys didn’t fake your ‘proof?’ Not a chance.”

You laugh. “You’ll be the first one we feed to the ghosts.”

You bickered back and forth until George announced that they had finally made it. Not even seconds after he pulled into the clearing in front of the property, you and Sap practically kept out of the car and rushed to the trunk to get your gear. After distributing equipment amounts your group you took your first look at the house

The Farmhouse was much larger than you remembered reading about. It was a huge two story red building with a faded white trim. The word around it looked like it had been rotting for years and it definitely smelt like rot. AMany of the windows were broken in, and the glass was a gross brown color. The roof had some holes in it and the gutters had been ripped from the roof and laid scattered around the outside. A large barn was off to the side and had the same kind of wear to it. The entire property was surrounded by a torn up wire fencing, which had a lot of crows perched, eyeing you intensely. The Erie feeling the house gave off was intensified by the soft sound of the wind and the loud crow caws. 

If houses had a criteria to be haunted, this one checked off all the boxes

Sap let out a low whistle before lightly nudging your arm “Dude, this place makes your home look tiny!”

You scoffed at that. Sure your rented home was small, but was cheap enough to pay for while you worked your way through community college. A one bedroom, one bath, a combined kitchen/living space, all on top of a double garage was all you needed. 

It was a slow walk to the porch, all of you hesitant to actually set foot in the run down building. The steps creaked under you, and the wooden boards sunk slightly. You were at the head of the group, so you were the first one inside, taking a couple steps in the large foyer. It was full of outdated furniture, something you’d see out of the early 90’s. A large staircase sat to the left, hugging the wall as it pushed into the upstairs.  There was a door to your right, leading into what you believe was the kitchen.

You held the camera up and you got a good shot of the room, if there were no ghosts you’d at least have some cool photos.

The four of you spread out into  the room observing every corner of it. Sapnap was the one armed with the EMF reader. He waved the hand held device trying to get something, anything to read. He did manage to get one, honing onto a stuffed cow that was nestled into the couch.

It was dusty, like everything else in the room. Otherwise it was in semi good condition. It was... cute. Too cute to just be sitting in this old farmhouse for the rest of time. Dream had other opinions.

“That means nothing. It’s just a cow.” 

To be fair, it was the first time either of you had used this kind of equipment. You decided to put it in your bag, hoping to study it later. It could be a fluke, but you guys couldn’t bow down now!  The hunt has only just begun.

Every room on the first floor was subject to an EMF and Temperature checks. Dream and George fucked around while you and Sap scanned for anything that could be more than a fluke, the only thing that could be found was in the kitchen. A small carved statue of a crow.

It gave off the same readings as the cow plush, so perhaps it wasn’t a fluke. You found it sitting on the open windowsill, it was so life-like you almost mistake it for a living crow. Something was telling you that it was probably the oldest thing in the house. You gently placed it in your bag with the cow, another piece to your growing collection.

You took a moment to glance out the window. There were way too many crows sitting on the wire fence to be normal. It was the beginning of summer, so crows even migrate?

With the first floor cleared, you lead the charge upstairs. The floor boards only got louder with every step. You quietly asked whatever prime deity was watching that neither of your group would fall through the floor. The whole house felt unstable.

The top of the stairs lead you to a Hallway. It was small and only had two doors and at the end of it stood a large magnificent bookshelf.

You took the first door on the left accompanied by George while Sap and Dream opted to poke around in the hallway, formally splitting the group for the first time.

The room wasn’t very Large, nor could you tell what it was supposed to be used for as pretty much everything was covered with sheets of some kind. There were a couple of uncovered boxes laying on top of things, so it wasn’t completely boring. A couple of minutes of scavenging later, George called for your attention.

“Look at this” George presented you a beautiful lute from one of the few uncovered boxes. It was crafted out of a dark wood and had what you thought was engravings of fish along the sides. How old was this thing? Was it even usable?

“Let me see!” You asked, setting down the camera before making a grabby motion towards the lute, which was met with a questioning look from the Brit. “I want to see if it’s in tune.” 

He decided that it was a good enough answer before handing over the old thing. You strummed the strings, and it sounded surprisingly good, despite the cloud of dust that came off it. You paused for a brief moment before playing a quick melody, just a song you played back in middle school for a recital. You hummed along until yelps from outside and many thumps. 

You quickly set the Lute down and follow George out the door, fearing that something had gotten your two friends. However, instead of a gory mess, you saw Dream standing holding a book, while a whole pile of them at his feet, a few inches away from the bookshelf. 

“The shelves just collapsed on themselves.” He quietly said. The look on his face was puzzled, like he was still trying to figure out what had happened. 

“Or maybe,” Sap started. “The ghost doesn’t like you touching his stuff.”

“I’m keeping it then, the ghost doesn’t need it.” 

“What’s the title of it?” You asked as you fake over to view the damage. Dream opened the book and flipped through it. 

“It’s old, There isn’t a title nor is it in English, old English I think.”

What was such an old book doing in a relatively modern house? You shake the thought away and motioned for Dream to give it to you. “I’ll hold onto it, I want to see if I can get it translated.” Another treasure for your growing collection.

You turned back to check on George, he wasn’t next to you, instead he was messing with the final door, seeming to unjam the lock and push into the room. You decided to grab the lute and take it as a keepsake.

Picking it up again made your head feel... loud. You couldn’t tell which thoughts were yours and which were intruding. A pair of eyes were watching you somehow but the room was empty. Panic rose in your chest, your heart was beating so so loud. A cold hand touched your shoulders, yet you couldn’t tell if it meant you harm or not.

“Hey... are you okay?”

And it stopped. Everything was clear again. You turned your head to look back seeing Sap poke his head through the door. “You’ve been standing here for a while.”

You nod, “Yeah yeah... we should- we should stop splitting up.”

You’d only find out later that the Lute has the same effects that the other two objects did.

The house search was a bit of a bust. The only ‘Supernatural’ experience you had was the EMF meter going off and the strange experience with the lute which you opted not to tell your friends about, writing off as the Erie nature of the house getting to you.

Finding nothing else interesting, you took one last look at the entrance room before stepping out. You feel a weird sense of longing, something pulling at you not to go. You tried to shake off the feeling and you walked back to the car, just to put all your goodies away in the trunk. 

All that was left on your to-do list was to check the outside area and the barn. Being the person that you are, you went straight to the barn. They boys could handle the rest of the property alone. alone  The building had no doors you waltzed right though the entryway. Despite never actually being in a barn, it looked right to you.

It was devoid of any livestock, but there was Hay everywhere. Light shined through the holes in the ceiling, making the room clear enough. The soft blue liquid that was spread across the hay-

Wait. What?

Doing a second take revealed that the whole barn has some weird blue goo smeared everywhere. It looked too Fresh to be painted, it looked wet. There didn’t seem to be a set trail, just pools of it. You found most of it by a ladder that led up to a new section of the barn.

The blue substance was dripping from the loft of the barn. 

It had to be.

And you were right! Sort of. Finally dragging yourself up the old latter not really minding the blue that now stained your clothes, you found the source.

He was standing- floating?- there, as if waiting for someone. The man was tall, taller than you or any of their friends, absolutely towering over you. His entire pallet was muted, his skin was fucking Grey. His attire was strange too. Something out of a renaissance fair. What was the strangest was that he was translucent and bleeding? Out of a cut on his chest. That blue substance oozing out of his stomach onto the floor boards.

He smiled.

“You found me, little songbird.”

The temperature drop had you shivering, but that also could have been from the absolute terror of seeing a real ghost.

That loud feeling returned in full force, directing your attention onto him.. You had to go. But it was like you were frozen place. He moved to cup your face, cooing as he looked you over.

“It’s not polite to touch things that aren’t yours, yet you handle them with so much care... I don’t mind.”

He wasn’t acting out of malice, thank prime, but It didn’t make it any less uncomfortable. He was too close.

“.... pretty songbird. My pretty songbird.”

A beat past before you could hear your friends calling for you. Your head cleared for a moment so you took it and ran. Practically flying down the ladder and hurting yourself in the fall. Ignoring the pain you booked it to the car right past Dream and Sap, who were standing by the entrance to the barn.

“We- We have to go. Now. Please we need to... to...” you couldn’t really tell what you were saying, everything was moving too fast. Great Prime, that was a real ghost. You- You were talking to a ghost. A Ghost called you a Song bird. 

A Ghost.

That ended your hunt right there and then. You weren’t in a fit state to keep going. Especially not when you’re covered in... whatever this blue stuff is. You’d come to find later that you had a blue hand print on your face, right where the man had cradled your face.

You’re so out of it, you don’t realize when your friends are guiding you up the stairs to your home. One of them says something about leaving the loot in your garage, but you don’t really care. This is a future problem. You give a small thank you and a swift goodbye before passing out the second you feel your pillow under you.

So deep in sleep you don’t realize that your tiny home has a few new residents wandering about. 

Or the fact that one of them watched over you as you slept

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I AM SIMPLY ASHAMED OF HOW LONG IVE BEEN PUTTING THIS OFF IT WAS A CRINE TO NOT LET Y'ALL SEE THIS EARLIER. LIGHT YOU'VE DONE A FANTASTIC JOB AAUAUGGG