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shingia · 4 years ago

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Heya. I know this is very angsty of a request, but I saw the fic of characters reacting to their s/o who [tw] relapsed into self harm and was wondering if you would do some for asahi, ushijima, and oikawa?

[𝐓𝐖] 𝐒/𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅-𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐌 𝐩𝐭.𝟐

hi ! ofc you can honey <3 i hope these will bring you as much comfort as you need, and plz don’t hesitate to dm me if you need to talk to someone, or to reach out for help in any way. here’s a hug for you bcs you deserve it, love you 💗

also im sorry but i really couldn’t imagine asahi ever arguing with his s/o so i didn’t include this in his fic (he really is too precious)

warnings : mentions of self harm, one mention of blood, some self-depreciating thoughts. please do not read if any of these might trigger something, stay safe everyone <3

➾ 𝐚𝐬𝐚𝐡𝐢

asahi trusted you blindly. and everyday, he had to make an effort to persuade himself that you trusted him in return. you did of course, how could you not trust the one that had helped you through so much ?

but this wasn’t about trust ; it was about shame. because the last thing you wanted was to find in his eyes the anguish and fear as they were a few months ago. you couldn’t do that to him, yet you kept doing that to yourself.

however, you had the misfortune - which was more of a blessing really - to have a very observant boyfriend who cared about you. and he cared enough to gather the courage to finally ask you about what he had hoped you’d come to him for. sat next to you on the couch, he took the plunge.

« do you… do you remember when you promised to always come to me if you needed help ? ». there, he had said it. and from the way that his arm tightened encouragingly around your waist, you understood what he meant by this innocent question. he kept speaking : « you know i trust you, right ? i really do. but something tells me that maybe you forgot about this promise recently ».

each of his words was carefully chosen, more than usual. because even if he didn’t show you, he was terrified of messing up. the fact that you were reluctant to answer was enough for him to understand that he had guessed right. but what confirmed it was the single tear that slowly streamed down your cheek.

« oh angel, no, come here. come, you’re ok now… » he spoke in a tone that was more comforting that anything you had ever heard. his arms were wide open for you to snuggle in, and when they wrapped around you, his words replayed once again in your head. i’m ok now, i’m ok now… you repeated internally. and you were, asahi was a man of his words after all.

« i’m sorry for being weak » you finally said after a few seconds of silence, voice half-muffled by his embrace. his warm fingers traced the outline of your face, encouraging you to look up to him. not because he needed to see your face, he already knew it by heart, but because you needed to see his. « weak ? y-you’re the furthest thing from weak. how can i even put it..? you are one of the strongest person i know, and i wouldn’t be half the man i am today if it weren’t for you.

you wanted to thank him, but exhaustion took hold of your body before any word could leave your tight throat. and when you woke up - two hours later according to the clock - asahi was still there, holding you tight against his heart like a promise to never let go of you anymore.

➾ 𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐚

ushijima hated to waste time and energy on ‘petty fights’, as he liked to call them. but it was really frustrating to always feel like he avoided confrontation ; arguments were necessary in a relationship, and he didn’t seem to understand that.

whenever you got into fights, you were always the only one to get angry, which never failed to make you feel guilty afterwards. and eventually, this feeling of guilt started to become permanent, taking so much place in your brain that you had to sacrifice a part of the self-confidence you had built up the past months. but you didn’t know how much longer you could conceal it.

tonight was the first time you were sleeping together since your most recent fight, the one that had damaged you so badly. and you couldn’t lie, feeling his warmth next to you after about three days spent ignoring him almost felt like a reward. but a reward for what ? you were certainly not proud of what you had done, and you were terrified at the thought that he’d ever notice it. but unfortunately, your efforts to pretend like everything was ok were put to an end in the middle of the night, at about 3 am. something silly, really : ushijima had just turned around in his sleep, and his shoulder accidentally weighed on your wrist, making you hiss in pain. he immediately opened his eyes at the sound, his hand immediately finding its way to your side - he was always a light sleeper with you.

« are you ok ? » he asked, propping himself on an elbow, barely distinguishing your silhouette in the dark. « yeah, just my wrist. come on, let’s go back to sl- ». oh… that wasn’t supposed to be said out loud. it was hard to gauge his reaction since you could not properly see his face, but since he sat on the bed as soon as you interrupted yourself, you understood that it had not fallen on deaf ears. « are you comfortable with me turning on the lights ? » he asked, obvious concern in his voice. saying yes was tempting, because you knew this was a serious matter, but you couldn’t bring yourself to let him see you like this, vulnerable and ashamed.

ushijima accepted it of course, he knew he was not the best with words, so the least he could do was to make sure you were comfortable with whatever he decided to do. « is it ok if i hold you ? » he asked once again, his tone a bit more hesitant. the muscles in your jaw tensed at his words, it was more than ok, or at least you wanted to give it a try, but the worry you had caused him was bringing you back to the familiar feeling of guilt.

however, when he carefully made you rest on top of him like he had always done, something inside you felt healed to know that whatever you were going through did not impact every aspect of your life. his embrace felt the same, so did his heaving chest that rocked your body to sleep every night. surprisingly enough, you did not shed a tear. because the comfort finally felt stronger than the pain, you refused to let anything trouble this moment.

« are you ready to talk about it ? » he questioned, his voice rumbling like a soothing storm in his chest « or do you prefer to wait until tomorrow ? ».

ushijima might have avoided many discussions with you, but this one ? he simply refused to. and if he was more than ready to help you overcome your pain, he also knew not to pressure you into talking. words would come, eventually. but actions were always first.

➾ 𝐨𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐰𝐚

despite his usually confident behavior, oikawa knew he had a tendency to second-guess each and every one of his actions, and to beat himself up quite often.

he could not remember the last time he had felt so utterly disgusted by himself, he was usually more careful with his words. but all it took was one angry outburst from him for you to withdraw into yourself - and he had to fix this as soon as possible.

luckily for him, your relationship was strong enough not to be too affected by this argument - which had not been your first, but definitely the biggest one. however, you had been affected. a lot actually. but you knew better than to talk to him about this, knowing that he would obviously take the blame for your relapse.

but oikawa was attentive, and, clever as he was, it did not take long for him to guess what you were going through when he saw the red-stained tissues in the bathroom trash. it had been two weeks since your fight, and just the thought that he had left you alone with your struggles for so long made him want to throw up.

without wasting any more second, he burst out of the bathroom and made his way to the living room where you were absent-mindedly watching a movie. he would have preferred to have a discussion with you with a clear head, but the sight of the tissues kept spiraling in his head and he was incapable of doing anything else but to pull you in for a hug whose suddenness made you gasp.

oikawa’s hugs were usually soft, with little kisses here and there and a few compliments chuckled in your ear. but today had nothing to do with those. his arms were engulfing your figure in a desperate need to feel you against him, like he was trying to make up for all the time he had left you alone. « i’m so sorry, so sorry baby… can you forgive me ? » he breathed out, his voice cracking with emotion. obviously you knew what he was referring to, how could you not know ? and just like him, the thousand words on your mind only transcribed in your arms wrapping around him, closing the last few millimeters that separated you as you frantically nodded your head yes.

you did not think he had anything to be forgiven for, and sadly, you also knew that he would continue to blame himself no matter what your answer had been. that was actually your biggest motivation to begin your recovery journey. oikawa needed to know that, from now on, you’d turn to him instead of your old habits. and you wanted nothing more than to make him happy, so, since his happiness seemed to depend on yours, it could be considered a package deal towards a better future, together.

before you leave, here are links to two mental health support apps that i hope will help you deal what you are going through right now. i know it’s not much but i’ll be the happiest girl if this helped someone in the tiniest way. take care of yourselves ❤️

Calm Harm - Play Store | App Store

Wysa - Play Store | App Store

@toworuu @catwithangerissues

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu comfort #haikyuu angst #asahi azumane #asahi x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader

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newdougsblog · 4 years ago

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The Tragic Hero Full of Fear

Hello everyone! Before I get into this, I’d like to thank @jasontoddiefor for both the name and being the main enabler of this fun piece of writing. I also want to thank all my wonderful friends over on Discord for letting me bounce ideas off of them and helping me. You are all amazing!!

Ok, so let’s get into it!

The first six Star Wars movies (the Original and Prequel trilogies) are commonly referred to as “the Tragedy of Darth Vader.” But what makes these movies a tragedy? How is Anakin Skywalker himself, the main character of said tragedy, a tragic hero? In this meta/essay, I will discuss how Anakin himself is definitionally a tragic hero and outline his story as it relates to the structure of a classic Greek tragedy.

This essay will focus solely on Anakin’s character as he is canonically portrayed.

The Hero

Let’s go through the main traits of a tragic hero (as per early literature) and discuss them in the context of Anakin Skywalker.

Possesses immense courage and strength and is usually favored by the gods

Anakin’s courage is evident throughout his entire life, such as when he participates in the pod race in TPM or on the front lines during the Clone Wars.

While we cannot definitively ascribe Anakin’s abilities to any deity, we can associate them with the Force. The Force is able to somewhat influence the happenings of the universe in certain ways and takes the place of any sort of deity.

Whether Anakin is the “Chosen One” or not, his connection to the Force is stronger than that of any other Force-sensitive being, so he is consequently closer to it than most, if not all, other Force-sensitive beings.

Extreme loyalty to family and country

Anakin is consistent in his demonstrations of loyalty to those he has strong feelings for (whether those feelings be romantic or platonic).

His devotion to Padmé surpasses his loyalty to the Jedi, and he is always willing to go to great lengths to ensure their safety and well-being.

Anakin also exhibits a strong sense of devotion to his mother, Shmi. His devotion to her, and by extension her wellbeing, surpasses his duties as Jedi.

In ROTS, Anakin says, “I will not betray the Republic… my loyalties lie with the Chancellor and with the Senate… and with you” (you, in this case, referring to Padmé). In this quotation, Anakin’s loyalties are made quite clear. At this point, he is not faithful to the Jedi, but to his government, its leaders, and, of course, his wife.

Representative of society’s current values

During the Clone Wars, Anakin is known by the moniker, “the Hero with No Fear,” and is one of the Republic’s “poster boys.” He is charismatic, kind, seemingly fearless (obviously) and a strong fighter, thus representing the values that were important to the Republic at the time. The last characteristic is especially important because of the assurance it instills in times of war. As a representation of the Republic, Anakin’s prowess on the battlefield creates hope for its citizens that victory is possible.

Anakin also empathizes with the opinion that the seemingly outdated Jedi Code holds them back. In the Citadel Arc, Tarkin remarks that “the Jedi Code prevents [the Jedi] from going far enough to achieve victory.” Anakin actually agrees with this statement, replying that “[he’s] also found that [the Jedi] sometimes fall short of victory because of [their] methods” (Season 3, Episode 19). He shows a sense of allegiance not to the ancient ways of the Jedi, but to the newer, more modern ideals regarding military action.

Anakin claims to have brought “peace, justice, freedom, and security” to his “new Empire.” While the Empire's interpretations of the aforementioned values are skewed, Anakin continues to represent them as Darth Vader.

Anakin’s statement to Obi-Wan also mirrors Palpatine’s declaration to the Senate: “In order to ensure our security and continuing stability, the Republic will be reorganized into the first Galactic Empire, for a safe and secure society which I assure you will last for ten thousand years.” The people applaud this statement, demonstrating a general sense of exhaustion in regards to the war and a yearning for what this new Empire is promising them.

Lead astray/challenged by strong feelings

Though there are many, many examples of Anakin’s emotions getting the better of him, we’re simply going to list two:

Anakin’s fury and anguish after the death of his mom leads to his slaughter of the Tuskens

Anakin’s overwhelming fear of losing Padmé is ultimately what leads to his Fall.

Every tragic hero possesses what is called a hamartia, or a fatal flaw. This trait largely contributes to the hero’s catastrophic downfall. Anakin’s hamartia is his need for control, which partially manifests through his fear of loss.

Let’s explore this idea in more detail.

Though Anakin grows up as a slave, the movies neglect to explicitly cover the trauma left from his time in slavery. However, it is worth noting that slaves did not have the ability to make many choices for themselves; they didn’t even own their bodies. After being freed, Anakin is whisked away to become a Jedi. He does not possess much control over his life as Jedi, for he is simply told what path he is going to take. While Anakin does make this decision on his own, becoming a Jedi is a disciplined and somewhat-strict way of life and not one that allows for an abundance of reckless autonomy as he is wont to engage in.

(Side note: I’m not here to argue about Qui-Gon’s decision-making abilities, nor do I wish to engage in discourse regarding the Jedi’s way of life. I am simply presenting and objectively stating these facts in relation to Anakin because they are pertinent to my point.)

During AOTC, Anakin is unable to save his mother from death. As Shmi dies in his arms, Anakin is absolutely helpless. The situation is completely out of his control, and he is forced to contend with the reality that despite all of his power, he cannot control everything that happens.

He also feels that he has a larger potential for power and is being held back by Obi-Wan: “although I'm a Padawan learner, in some ways... a lot of ways... I'm ahead of him. I'm ready for the trials. I know I am! He knows it too. He believes I'm too unpredictable… I know I started my training late... but he won't let me move on.” Anakin believes Obi-Wan, his teacher and mentor, is holding him back. He expresses a self-held conviction of his status and skills and does not trust the word of his superior.

In ROTS, Anakin starts dreaming of Padmé’s death. Considering what occurred the last time he dreamt of a loved one’s demise, Anakin is justifiably (or at least justifiably from his point of view) worried. He consequently wants to stop these dreams from coming true in any way possible. His fear of death, especially that of his loved ones, represents his need for control over everything, even things that are uncontrollable. This overwhelming desire leads to Anakin’s drastic actions.

As Darth Vader, he no longer possesses such fears, for everyone that he loved is either dead or has betrayed him. He is the epitome of order and control, eliminating any who disturb this perceived equilibrium.

However, this changes because of one person: Luke Skywalker.

Luke reintroduces something that was (arguably) long-absent in Vader’s life, which is interpersonal attachment. Vader yearns for his son to join him by his side. When Luke refuses, Vader continues to attempt to seek him out. In ROTJ, Vader is forced to choose between the Emperor, a man he has long trusted and followed, and Luke, the son he never knew he had. Out of a desire to protect and keep what little family he has left (and likely a sense of “I couldn’t save Padmé but at least I can save her legacy by keeping her child(ren) alive and safe”), Vader defeats the Emperor and saves his son. Though his actions are definitionally heroic, Anakin never truly overcomes his hamartia.

The Structure of a Tragedy

Classic Greek tragedies follow a specific story structure, which, according to the German playwright Gustav Freytag, is as follows:

We’re going to focus on the three aspects that best represent Anakin’s story as a tragedy: The peripeteia, the anagnorisis, and the catastrophe/denouement. These occur during and/or after the climax.

The peripeteia is the climax/the turning point in the plot. Said change usually involves the protagonist's good luck and prosperity taking a turn for the worse.

Within the tragedy we are discussing, the peripeteia occurs when Anakin chooses Sidious over Mace Windu and solidifies his allegiance to the Dark side, becoming the very thing he swore to destroy. It is at this point that things really start to go downhill. He kills children, chokes his wife, fights his best friend, gets his remaining limbs cut off, etc.

The anagnorisis is the point in the tragedy when the protagonist recognizes their error, seeing the true nature of that which they were previously ignorant of, usually regarding their circumstances or a specific relationship (such as Oedipus’ realization that his wife was actually his mother). In most tragedies, the anagnorisis is in close proximity to the peripeteia. In Anakin’s story, the anagnorisis occurs during ROTJ. After being wounded in his fight against Luke, Vader watches as his son is brutally electrocuted by Sidious. It is at this moment that Darth Vader realizes that Luke was right—there is good in him, and he still has the chance to redeem himself.

The catastrophe/denouement (since this is a tragedy, we’re going to go with “catastrophe”) is the end of the tragedy. Events and conflicts are resolved and brought to a close, and a new sort of “normality” is established. The catastrophe often provides a sense of catharsis (release of tension) for the viewer. The protagonist is worse off than they were at the beginning of the tragedy.

The catastrophe within “The Tragedy of Darth Vader” transpires soon after the anagnorisis at the end of ROTJ. Though the realization of his capacity for good is the anagnorisis, the follow-through (via his actions), as well as what consequently occurs, is the catastrophe. As previously discussed, Vader saves Luke by killing the Emperor but does so at the cost of his own life. This serves as the resolution of the tragedy, for the hero’s fate has been confirmed—Darth Vader fulfills his destined role as the Chosen One and, in doing so, brings about his own redemption and dies as Anakin Skywalker.

In conclusion, the categorization of Star Wars as a tragedy is a choice that heavily influences Anakin, the protagonist and hero, of the story. He is without a doubt a tragic hero whose fatal flaw leads to his downfall. In accordance with Aristotle’s theory of tragedy, Anakin’s tragedy is constructed not by personal agency, but by the narrative itself.

Works Cited

“Darth Vader.” Wikipedia, Wikimedia Foundation, 15 Mar. 2021, en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Darth_Vader.

“Dramatic Structure.” Wikipedia, Wikimedia Foundation, 20 Feb. 2021, en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dramatic_structure.

“Hero.” Encyclopaedia Britannica, Encyclopaedia Britannica, Inc., 19 Oct. 2016, www.britannica.com/art/hero-literary-and-cultural-figure.

Lucas, George, director. Star Wars: Episode III— Revenge of the Sith. Lucasfilm Ltd., 2005.

Lucas, George, director. Star Wars: Episode II— Attack of the Clones. Lucasfilm Ltd. , 2002.

Michnovetz, Matt. “Star Wars: The Clone Wars, ‘Counterattack.’” Season 3, episode 19, 4 Mar. 2011.

“Sophocles: the Purest Artist.” Encyclopædia Britannica, Encyclopædia Britannica, Inc., www.britannica.com/art/tragedy-literature/Sophocles-the-purest-artist.

“Theory of Tragedy.” Encyclopædia Britannica, Encyclopædia Britannica, Inc., www.britannica.com/art/tragedy-literature/Theory-of-tragedy.

“Tragic Hero.” Dictionary.com, Dictionary.com, www.dictionary.com/browse/tragic-hero.

#star wars #Anakin Skywalker #greek tragedy #anakin the tragic hero #meta #so many meta ideas not enough time #wow thanks tumblr formatting for being terrible

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jean-does-not-have-a-horseface · 4 years ago

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Wildflower

Yooooo impromptu nsfw fic!? On this fine evening!? As if you don't know me! Y'all want soft wet Eren and I deliver.

Pairing: Eren/ Reader

Summary: You and eren find yourselves tangled with each other after a swim in the lake, things take a much warmer turn from there.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+

The lake was beautiful at this time of the day.

A soft evening breeze blew the fresh smell of blooming wildflowers around. Mellow tints of camomile and lavender lingered in your nostrils, blended with water lillies and hibiscus struck you tenderly, brushing your senses beautifully. The forest green leaves around you shimmered an entirely different colors under the thousand golden rays of the blushing sun. Numerous duos of butterflies fflickered and flapped their wings on each other, twisting and turning in the air as they seemingly kissed, landing on perky petals and hoovering with each other under the tangerine light.

Yet here you were; drainched and shivering, laid on a thin sheet of clothe, cold as ever, but burning up from your core and outwards.

"Eren"

The whisper of his name was silent, lost in the heart of the forest, overlapped by the sounds of nature as the sun was shyly hiding underneath the horizon. Still it reached his ears and his ears only, just like he thristed for.

He too was shivering and very pale and as sweat begged to drip from the pores of his skin, it merged with the flowing water that the two of you had been bathing in only moments ago.

His lips were sucking yours in with need, worrying your flesh with arrogance before his time guess dared to dip in the crevices of your mouth. His palms were always supporting, always cupping your face to sink his head closer into you. His tongue rubbed yours with twirling motions, dipping and swiping in any place he could manage to drag it on.

"You have such a lovely voice."

"I do?"

"You do" Eren said. "You're making my -ah- my heart melt."

Turquoise orbs locked with yours, his sharp nose brushed over the tip of yours, his hand coming to cup tenderly just the underside of your jaw line. The cold, wet fabric of his shirt brushed over your naked skin, hanging so low that when you'd stick your forehead to his collar bone you could see the view of his hips as they remained frozen and in collision with yours.

"Eren, please, please move."

"Shh." His lips brushed over yours with animalistic need, but he never placed a kiss on you. "I just want to stay like this for a while, to look at you, you're so beautiful under this light."

With a sharp breath creating commotion on your side you felt like your lungs were spent. His plum lower lip sank under his teeth as he looked at you, his eyebrows furrowing together and away from his eyelids in what seemed like utter, horrible pain.

Maybe it was painful. No, it definitely was painful. The fact that he wouldn't move inside you, the way your hardened buds brushed with his shirt. The sly adoration that glimmered in his gentle turquoise eyes. We're you ever in a position to chose a single memory to keep of his it would be this very moment.

That was if he would let you think clear.

With one thumb flicking over your most sensitive bundle of nerves occasionally and the squirm inside the depths of your chest, you instinctively brought your hands to cup his own face eager to clash his lips against yours. Your hips finally made a movement of their own accord; you bucked forward and into the small surface of the tip of his finger, searching desperately for some rythimc friction.

You found yourself pushing against him hard and fast, so much that the evening breeze was finally starting to become evident, forming little bumps on the surface of your wet skin. Another short lived shiver ravaged your body and you gasped, you forehead linked with his collar bone. Before your eyes, you could see his hand hiding just between your legs, rubbing just on the spot you wanted, and it only added to your lust.

With a hitched breath, you let out a soft mewl and earned one from the brunet in response.

"Fuck!" Eren snarled and his hand came to dig absurdly on the ground next to you.

With the twirling of his hips inside you, he bucked slightly before he hoisted him self out of you and aligned the tip of his length with your entrance, sliding it teasingly over you.

"I love you." He said and clashed his forehead with the prominent tip of your jaw.

Your heart throbbed the instant he uttered the words yet he de ied you the chance to look him in the eye. Whether from embarrassment or shame, whether because the little scarlet tint on his cheeks was something he was insecure about, he took away from you the right of being able to lock your gaze with his. And somewhere between not being able to look into his eyes and being teased by his slow rhythm against you, you felt lost and swallowed by the words you wanted to speak back to him.

Perhaps he knew your answer. That he could probably be why he didn't demand it.

Still, your heart slightly ached at the slight melancholy of his tone.

You were being swallowed as a whole by the slow dragging of his member across you, by the way that you could see he held him self just below his fleshy tip to take a lead and establish his self control. He didn't want to thrust inside you and establish a pace, he was making that obvious. The pained expression in his face was more likely due to that, the paleness of his skin gave him away.

"Don't you love me?"

It came out like a cry, a whine, like a little brawl of a hurt puppy and it hit hit you like a monstrus tide. Had Eren always been able of making such lewd sounds?

"Of course i- of course I do." You stuttered, the throbbing heat that thrilled your abdomen fueling by your confession.

You could only sense how much he was enjoying it; the hiccuped breaths he let out, the tight clentching of his abdomen muscles, the veins in his hands that flexed as he pressed into the abnormal soil with the fact of his palm, the stray strands of wet hair that shimered im tiny droplets at their base as they flickered on your skin, it all added to that.

"I feel so dirty." He whispered and you knew to what he was reffering.

"But you're not."

"That's exactly how I feel though."

"Not for me, you're not what everyone paint you to be."

"Then promise me you'll hold my hand." He growled. "That you won't leave my side with what's to come."

Right after hot slowly dragged his teeth the the length of your jaw, his breath was on your ear, hot against your skin despite the cold evening air. The hiffs of his nose shot like steam over the crook of your neck and unbeknownst to you they preppee the area for what was to come.

"I promise."

Eren's lips attacked you, the launched over the tender skin of your neck, the hot torture of his tongue and teeth beginning a sweet massacre against all the little sweet spots he knew you had. You only pressed your head against the sheet of cloth harder, accepting the little defeat of your own personal ego. You were glad you didn't have to worry about being audible into the heart of the woods.

Your body was jolting against his touch, your pelvis, sore and needy in its movements slowly gave in the the build up in the aftermath or Eren's teasing. A hand came to grip on Eren's flexed bicep, your fingertips digging painfully into his skin everytime the feeling became unbearable for you to handle. You were going numb, painfully numb but you seemed to savor your release for later, you repeatedly told yourself that you could do it.

The little drizzling of cicadas had started spreading throughout the air by now, from the corner of your strained eye you could see some of them flying around, some birds chirping and flying inside their little nests as the last specs of sunlight peaked right between the enormous trees. Nature was celebrating another endearing late spring sunset and here you were, feeling the dear melancholy of a delayed edge.

It was only when Eren shifted his weight onto you that you immediately run your hands through his hair, throwing a chocolate lock away from his tired eyes just to finally get the chance to look at him. This time it was you who took so long tracing his jawline, it was you you placed chaste kissed across his face, chin, the corners of his so well outlined lips.

"Eren, I love you no matter what," You whispree, eyes closed as your heart hammered in your chest. "you don't have to hold back with me."

Whether he did it because you genuinely convinced him of your words or because he wanted to get this over with, you didn't know. All that you knew what that your legs were forced over his shoulders, and that his hand was cupping your cheek with force, desperately clutching on you as he finally slammed his throbbing member inside of you.

Puckered lips and glistering skin, angry brows and a menacing look, it all added to the occasional gulp he'd force upon himself, it all took away from the moans he failed to let out. The little grunts he left were due time the brutality of his rhythm and they were so unique but still overlapped by the sound of skin clapping and clashing.

You only gave a little moan and surrendered to the feeling, your coiling stomach refusing to allow you to hold your orgasm in for any longer. Your legs went still, your toes curled and flexed and your walls clenched around him. You let out a panting mewl as you felt your whole body giving into the immediate trance of afterglow.

Eren only grunted at the feeling, thrusting himself faster into you before barely managing to pull out, a hand coming to his length to guide the spurting white rope that emitted from the tip anywhere away from you.

"I'm so sorry" He panted, and finally his head nuzzled to the crook of your neck almost painfully.

"I got you Eren. You don't have to have a single worry in the world at the moment."

And he truly wished he didn't

#eren jeager x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren jeager #snk

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johaerys-writes · 4 years ago

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How do you write your stories? Do you jot down an outline in writing first or do you just dive straight in on a laptop?

Thank you so much for this ask, anon!❤️I’m ALWAYS down to talk about writing and writing methods, so this is such a treat! So buckle UP this is going to get long (and a little rambly heh)

I have to admit that I’m not a huge outliner, at least not in paper? I do have an outline, but it’s mostly in my head… kind of 😅

For longer and more plot-heavy stories, like my Dorian/Trevelyan fic A World With You, I like to have a doc with a rough outline of each separate arc until the end of the story, then fill in the gaps as I go along. This is also where I make notes about certain scenes/plot points I want to include for each arc. It all gets more and more detailed the closer I get to each plot point, but I don’t tend to outline each separate chapter in great detail. I do love to keep the element of surprise for myself when I’m writing, if that makes sense? If I try to plan everything in advance, I tend to get bored. I like to leave some room to move around, so I can let the characters do their own thing. This habit of mine has led to some situations where I hit a wall and had to heavily edit/rewrite certain parts, but *shrug* what can you do. At least I had fun writing them, lol!

For less plot-heavy multi-chap stories, like my Patrochilles fic High-Flying Birds, I don’t reaaaally have an outline? I have a page in my writing notebook where I have jotted down all of my ideas for scenes I want to include and that’s it. Some of these have changed or been combined into one, but I generally like to keep it more relaxed, since I don’t have to stress about plot points etc.

As for one-shots, this is where the fun’s at, haha!! I don’t really outline for one-shots, I dive straight in. I usually have this very specific idea I want to write about, which comes at the most inopportune times more often than not, so I end up jotting stuff on my phone or random pieces of paper until I can get myself to my laptop. For my Patrochilles short Like Friends Do, I had about a thousand or so words in random pieces of paper before I started writing, which I find is super helpful to get the ball rolling when I finally have the time to sit down and write.

One last thing about when I first start with a brand new idea, if I can tell it’s going to be multi-chapter or at least longer than 15-20k: I like to start with a zero draft.

Read more below the cut! (I swear it’s not too much, just a couple more things, SARRY I got excited ;w;)

Since I am incapable of planning a story right off the bat, I start by diving straight in and writing as much as I can of the story until I have a solid idea of what it is about/where I’m going with it. After I get that, I write down a rough outline of how I want the story to go until the end, and split it into chapters/arcs. I find it’s helped a lot with my motivation and to keep my interest in a story, since I personally find outlining very early on a little stifling. I have a lot of respect for writers that know straight away how their story is going to go, it’s definitely a talent that I don’t have, lol. But I’ve developed certain methods to work around the issue and to continue having fun while writing, which I think is the most important thing!

All in all, I think what’s most important is to have fun while writing, and to work with your mind instead of against it. No two writer brains are the same, you might find that something that works for me doesn’t work for you, and that’s fine! It’s okay to experiment and try different methods until you find one that works, and even then you can always tweak and change it according to your mood/needs!

Thank you so much for this ask, and for letting me ramble, haha! For any more writing-related questions (or anything at all, really, I love to chat) drop me a line! <3 <3

#johaerys answers #johaerys writes #pavelyan #patrochilles #a world with you #high-flying birds #like friends do #THANK YOU nonny for letting me ramble #tis most appreciated #❤❤😅

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writefinch · 4 years ago

Text

The Prince’s Offering, Pt.4

Between the strong wine, the strange tea, and the determined girls, he could not even mount a token resistance. He closed his eyes and allowed the sensations to overwhelm him, hoping that the playing of the miniature harp would mask his not-wholly-masculine gasps of appreciation. After rising a second time, Mido's technique changed from allowing him to luxuriate in her throat to something more rhythmic, bobbing her head up and down, her hand wrapping around his shaft wherever her mouth left it, lavishing attention on the tip, and mashing her lips against his pubic bone at the bottom of each stroke.

Davai felt something wet on his chin. He touched his hand to the spot and realized that he'd let a line of drool spill from his lips, and felt mortified. He looked up and hoped that nobody else had noticed it, and saw that both of the other men present were quite well distracted themselves.

Thom the Brigand had the wine girl sitting on his lap. For a moment it appeared as if her cock had burst free of its gilded cage, but Davai saw that it was actually Thom's cock sticking up through her thighs. It was monstrously, unpleasantly thick, thick enough that Davai would struggle to wrap his hand around it, and from the way it jutted up out of Ehsan's legs it was at least eight inches in length. The girl had coated her thighs in olive oil and was crossing her ankles to create a tight fit, and from below Thom thrust up and into it, treating the gap as he would a cunt. He was nuzzling her hair from the back, and she stroked the tip of his knob with her fingertips as he fucked her.

Karim was indulging in a pleasure far simpler; Tabitha had mounted him and rolled her hips up and down as he fucked her. She moaned wantonly and without shame as his cock pumped in and out of her sex, caressing his face and lavishing him with kisses. His eyes were squeezed shut and his face was a mask of concentration, only slowing his thrusts to return a particularly passionate kiss.

"Close your eyes," Bahar whispered.

He obeyed. The two girls shifted ever so slightly without stopping their attentions, and something subtly changed. While they certainly hadn't been fighting against each other before, now it felt as if they were working as one mind, each stroke of his chest and lick of his shaft working in harmony, and their actions were now building to a crescendo. His hips flicked up almost of their own accord, and he knew he could not hold out much longer.

Bahar turned his head to the side and kissed him forcefully, slipping her tongue between his lips. He had been kissed like this once before in his life as a young man whose voice had barely broken, at a noble gathering a hundred miles west of his own lands with a knight's maiden daughter. Apart from the kiss they had done little more than paw at each other in a darkened hallway of the estate, but he still thought of that girl in his lonelier moments, and the lust-induced guilt brought on by it had driven him to confession more times than he cared to count.

There certainly hadn't been a second girl giving suck to him at the same time, back then.

He threw himself into the kiss, ripping off Bahar's veil, grabbing her hair, and pushing his tongue into her mouth in return. It spurred her on and seemed to spur Mido on, but he could go no further. He broke the kiss, biting his bottom lip as he came, filling Mido's mouth with his seed. Bahar pushed his face into her bosom as he rode out his climax.

Some time later, he felt the girl's lips leave his cock. Bahar disentangled herself, replaced her veil, and began to straighten Davai's effects—starting by tucking his half-hard and rather sensitive cock back into his stockings. Davai looked around in a daze. Thom and Karim had apparently finished already and were now half-dozing on their pillows with their lovers curled up next to them. He saw Mido holding a wooden cup, her cheeks bulging out—embarrassment and a strange pride mixed within him as he saw how thoroughly he had filled her mouth—before turning away from him to spit his seed into the cup.

With nothing else apparent to do, he joined the others and rested in Bahar's arms for a short while. He did not fall asleep, and after a few minutes all three men had composed themselves somewhat. Tabitha looked at Davai, looked at Karim with a devilish grin, and whispered something into Karim's ear.

Karim chided her gently. "Tabitha, you broody vixen, do not talk of our guest as if he is not in front of us!"

Davai looked at him intending to say something, but his mind was utterly blank. Karim only chuckled in return.

"Tabitha and I wish to know what you think of our hospitality, so far," he said, a look of sheepish amusement on his face.

"Unusual." Davai blinked. "Invigorating, pleasurable, perhaps a little... confusing to my provincial mind, but thoroughly delightful. As exciting as anything I have experienced without a sword in my hand in a score of years, and I do not know if anything from my own lands will surpass it in another score."

Karim beamed, and seemed genuinely happy at his words. "It warms my heart to hear it. My people's peculiar forms of hospitality have not always been to the taste of Western peoples, or certain peoples in the Near East for that matter, though the Mughals always did appreciate them."

Davai chuckled softly. "If I am honest—and I pray that I do not stray into impertinence—I am surprised to be found worthy of the impressions. I am here to give gifts and tribute after all, not to receive them, and I have a far greater need to impress well upon you than the Great Empire does to impress well upon me."

Thom did a half-snicker-snort that Davai found irritating, but Karim listened and nodded, and for a moment he seemed contemplative. "If I am truly honest I had not considered such a view," he said, "but I can see how such a view would arise."

"It is of no real consequence, I think," said Davai.

Karim shook his head. "No, I think it is worth consideration, truly, and if you wish I could provide some perspective you may find enlightening."

"Certainly, I would be grateful."

"In this case I do not aim to provide my own perspective, or even the perspective of my people, but here I wish to outline the world in the way that the Great Empire—through its generals, its administrators, and perhaps even the Great Emperor himself—seems to view it." He paused. “Hmm. Pray tell, do you know how many men were slain in the Great Emperor's first conquest?"

"I confess I do not. Four thousand, perhaps?"

"A few men fewer than that," said Karim with a smile. "Just under a dozen."

"Truly?" Davai's eyebrows shot up. "Was it a hamlet he conquered?"

"That is not far from the truth. The Great Emperor's first conquest was that of a band of the Yurchid, a rival tribe of nomads on the endless steppes. When a fifth of their fighting men had fallen, they surrendered. Do you know what happened to the women and children of the Yurchid after their surrender?"

"Nothing pleasant, I'd wager," he answered, recalling the tales of the serving girls.

"You would lose that wager, Lord Davai. The surviving Yurchid men were married off to Mughal women, the Yurchid women were married off to Mughal men, every child was given a place in the combined tribe, and a portion of loot from every raid was set aside for provision of the widows and orphans."

Davai blinked. "That does... not match the tales I have heard of Imperial conquest, if I am honest."

"No, no it does not. There are reasons for this." Karim looked pensive, even weary. "The Great Emperor was not a title our ruler inherited, and if he was born into it in the theological sense it was not a title anyone acknowledged until many years into his life. The Brilliant Horde and the Mughal Nation did not exist as recently as when I still knew the taste of mother's milk. They were scores upon scores of nomadic bands drawn from the eight tribes of the steppe, the larger ones numbering a dozen grosses, the smaller ones little more than moveable hamlets.

"The Great Emperor conquered that first Yurchid band not out of avarice or bloodlust, but because their raids and thefts threatened to drive his own people to privation. He had himself been raised by a widow and cruelly driven out of a conquered tribe as a child, and he had seen how the miserly treatment of all but the leader's most trusted men weakened a tribe as a crack weakens an anvil. It kindled within him a determination to never let such things come to his own people, and in doing this his people grew strong.

"The combined band caught the eye and ire of greater tribes on the steppes, and so his second, third and fourth conquests were necessary to prevent a more vicious attack from his rivals. As the Mughal tribe grew, their needs could no longer be satisfied through the mere raiding of caravans and redistribution of conquered wealth, and so they attacked the border towns of the Old Eastern Kingdoms. Where the old steppes tribes could chance a raid to steal some unguarded livestock and ungleaned crops before being turned away by well-armed militias, the Great Emperor's attacks took towns wholesale, looted everything in sight, and drove away refugees with nothing more than what they could carry in their arms.

"When the kings of those places caught word of this, they tried to bribe his rival nomads to destroy the Great Emperor, but their attempts were too late, and he soon had all of the tribes of the steppe united under one banner. That is when the conquest of the Old Eastern Kingdoms began." He paused to sip his tea. "Did you know of this tale?"

"I knew the Great Empire came from the steppes, but little else."

Karim nodded. "They learned much as they conquered the Old Eastern Kingdoms. Their enemies had only experienced Mughal tactics as robberies, never as a battle to the death, and on the open field none could resist the Brilliant Horde. Walled cities stymied them but for a brief time; they used the great administrative wonders of the kingdoms to their advantage and kidnapped engineers and architects with every raid. Cities found themselves withering under siege engines designed by the kingdom's own minds and built by the forced labour of fleeing refugees.

"Distance became a challenge. Though the Brilliant Horde had no vast supply trains and could live off the land almost indefinitely, it took longer and longer to return their loot to the felt tent cities of the Mughal steppes. It had become an inconvenience and a liability to leave razed and abandoned cities in their wake. What they required were obedient cities, not of the Mughal tribe, but loyal to their conquerors. The Great Emperor's most faithful general even suggested the manner of the cautious caravans who would preemptively give gifts to the tribes of the steppes to avert more determined raids.

"They surrounded a great and ancient city of the Old Eastern Kingdoms and told them to send forth their most eminent scholar, Sudong Po. In their fear the city's rulers rushed him out of the gates, where he was brought to the Great Emperor's tent. The Great Emperor explained his proposal to Sudong Po, and asked how he could make such a thing come to pass. Sudong Po replied that the Old Eastern Kingdoms knew the tribes of the steppes to be unlettered horsemen who squabbled over goats and barely venerated their ancestors, and would therefore never obey the spoken word of a Mughal chieftain.

"The Great Emperor was not satisfied with this answer, and so Sudong Po was rolled up in a rug and beaten with sticks until he could provide a better one. Chastened, Sudong Po told the Great Emperor that although many of the rulers of the kingdoms were weak and depraved, the strength of their rule derived from the administrative system of scribes and magistrates, and from respect for the written word of law.

"This answer was most satisfactory to the Great Emperor, who had Sudong Po concoct and write out the Mughal Law. From thereon out, any city which immediately surrendered to the Brilliant Horde was peaceably brought under Mughal Law and given the protection of empire in return for tithe. Any city which resisted was brought into the empire only after its rulers had been slain and replaced. This arrangement went well, for a time."

Davai nodded, listening intently. "The Brilliant Horde traveled to the Near East after that, I take it?"

"Yes, yes. The Near East presented a new problem. Like the Old Eastern Kingdoms, they knew of the nomads of the steppes and saw them as incapable of conquest—a notion they were soon disabused of—and as incapable of rule. This second notion proved harder to dispel. The Caliphs of the Near East did not derive law merely from the written word, but from true holy law as laid out by the Prophet, peace be upon him, and debated by clerics. You could replace a conquered ruler but you could not place in a new system of laws and have it wholly accepted; at best it would be seen as a supplement to holy law and at worst there were many wretched emirs and caliphs who paid no attention to their own laws let alone those of a foreign empire.

Karim opened his mouth and closed it. There seemed to be a touch of sorrow in his eyes. "There was... much was lost. Cities would surrender to the Great Empire only to withdraw tribute and attack imperial forces from the rear. Worse, some conquered cities whose rulers had been replaced saw their new rulers turn on the empire. Every city that did this was razed to the ground and had its people driven out with nothing. A city I had once visited on the Tigris had a grand library which was said to contain one million texts. One million! The Great Empire conquered the city once and were forced to conquer it a second time, and on the second occasion they cast every book in that library into the Tigris until it ran black with ink.

"Such rebellion ceased after the death of the Great Emperor's grandson at the hands of a traitor city. Not only was this city razed, but every living being within it was slain. For one hundred days the smell of burning corpses hung over the whole of the Near East, and the uprisings ended. The Near Eastern mind does not work solely on reverence and ceremony but on logic and true faith. Once consequences of their actions became apparent, their actions changed."

Karim paused again to sip his tea, then turned to one of the serving girls. "My dear, would you fetch another tray of sweetmeats."

"Of course, Master," the girl replied.

"Go and rouse the dog handlers also, it is almost time for their daily training," he added as she left. He turned back to Davai. "Now where was I... Ah, next they came to the West, and I must say, Lord Davai, that your people were an interesting puzzle for the Great Empire."

"In what manner?" Davai asked.

"In one sense, you are not a nomadic people who can be inducted into a conquering horde, you have no system of law that could match the thousands upon thousands of bureaucrats and scholars of the Far East, and your own internecine conflicts are as bloody as anything the Mughals did to the great cities of Persia and Arabia. What's more, you are not a land of ancient wonders or vast riches, and so each horseman of the Great Empire who falls in battle is a dearer loss."

"It hardly seems worth the effort, if I am honest."

Karim nodded. "Some in the Great Empire have argued that very point, yes. But there is another difference: apart from the farthest-flung borderlands of Rus, your people never knew the Mughals as anything other than an unstoppable force with fulminating powders and bizarre siege engines, whose emissaries travel on palanquins dressed in the wealth of a hundred nations, and who seem fated to conquer not only the known world but to discover and conquer the rest of the world too.

"You are a hard people to frighten and a hard people to persuade, but you are not a hard people to impress. The Great Empire's power does not appear cruel or mercurial—as many of your own rulers do—but it can be resisted little more than the will of Allah, and though its tithes seem dear, it provides a gateway to great riches should peace be made. This is why the Great Empire has placed such emphasis not on the unspeakable cruelties of a Catholic torturer or the reasoning of the ancient scholars in its domination of the West, but on submission: rulers who oppose us must be torn out at the root and have their bloodline rendered utterly inconsequential, and rulers who bow to us must demonstrate that the Great Emperor is feared and venerated more than any oath, king, or pope. The Great Empire does not aim to simply conquer the West, Davai. It seeks to awe you." Karim sat back on his cushion, smiling softly, with a strange look in his eye. The serving girl returned and placed a new tray of brightly-coloured candied squares on the table.

Davai thought for a moment. "I appreciate you telling me this, Sir Karim," he said, "though I wonder why you would explain these mysteries so comprehensively before impressing upon me the value of uncomprehending awe."

Before Karim could reply, Thom the Brigand burst out laughing. It was a hoarse, rough, ugly laugh that grated on Davai's ears. "But you haven't comprehended it, Young Lord!" Thom brayed. "You've yet to understand any of it."

Davai turned to him with genuine anger. "Explain it to me then, or keep your slobber-slicked lips shut," he snapped.

Thom's grin nauseated him. "I will explain later, lord, do not worry your pretty little head about it."

Before Davai could respond, they were interrupted by the entry of eight men into the room. They were Mughal soldiers, short and stocky with shaved heads, wide smiles and bow-legged gaits of a lifelong horse rider, but they carried no arms and wore no armor. They did not even wear the heavy fur deels that every Mughal dressed in, and were instead clad in thin linen gowns. Davai felt cold panic grip his innards, but the men did not approach him or even seem to notice him, instead making their way to the dais at the back of the room.

"Lord Davai, I honestly do not know of what your companion speaks," said Karim, catching his attention, "but I do have an example of what I spoke of before. You see, in my old life I held two jobs. I ran a brothel, a task I mostly enjoyed, and I worked as a torturer, a task I mostly did not. In my new life I combine these roles, providing lavish hospitality for those who appreciate it, and providing discipline for those who require it."

The Mughal men lit two standing torches at the back of the dais, bathing it in orange light. The throne and dog statues were clearly illuminated now, and it truly seemed as if the statues were twitching. Pasha stopped playing the harp, the low moaning of the wind returning, still audible over the bustle of the men. One of the Mughals crouched down next to a hound statue, took hold of its cast iron face, and removed it.

Davai blinked for a moment, frozen in place, unable to understand why the metal statue had a human face, flesh and blood under a metal mask. In quick succession the other seven men unmasked the other seven faces.

There were eight faces, human faces, with pale, clammy skin and pink cheeks. Their eyes were hidden under kidskin blindfolds, a thick metal hook attached to twine pulled their nostrils up into a porcine grimace, and their mouths were forced open with a metal ring wrapped in leather. Their chins were slick with their own spit, which dribbled out from their open mouths to form puddles on the floor below. The noise of the wind changed, and Davai realized with horror that it was never the wind at all, but instead the moans of these poor souls muffled through iron masks.

"What in God's name is this?" snapped Davai, his stomach twisting in disgust and fear.

"Oh, the daughter of a knight, a squire, one of the Old Duke's bastards, perhaps two but I can't recall, a merchant's heiress, some or other maiden..." Karim said offhandedly. He saw the expression on Davai's face and rolled his eyes. "Calm yourself, Lord Davai, I assure you that not one of these miscreants came to this keep willingly, and none even approach your station."

"A knight's daughter is still a noble, and a squire is not far off," Davai said through gritted teeth.

Karim shook his head. "You misunderstand, it is not your status as a lord I refer to now, but your role as an emissary. The harshest sanctions of Mughal law are reserved for those who harm the messenger or the diplomat; cities have been razed for less."

Davai settled down, but not by much. His gaze was fixed on the men, and though their backs were turned to him, it seemed as if they were removing metal plates from the rear of the hound-bound captives. "What is the purpose of this?" he asked, not even looking at Karim, all pretense of protocol and politesse forgotten.

"It is as I said, Lord Davai: the purpose is discipline. Each prisoner you see is being punished for crimes against the Great Empire, or are receiving punishment on behalf of another who has committed such crimes." Karim stroked his chin. "This particular selection is weighted heavily towards the latter. Perhaps their house tried to oppose the Great Empire, or their company swindled its merchants, or their uncle swore oaths unwisely. In the Near East they would have to be slain quickly and mercifully as a message to all others, and in the Far East their family would be murdered one generation above and one generation below to uphold respect for written law, but in this Western land a display of awe and submission is enough. Your people believe in the forgiveness of Christ, and in a similar manner your trespasses against the Great Empire may be forgiven as long as you are willing to roll over and show your belly.

Karim laughed to himself. "Not that these ones can roll over; they are restrained in a manner most strict, their arms and legs folded over and bound in silk bandages, resting on their knees and elbows, held quite still by the cast iron shell around them. They are let out to exercise often enough to stop cankers and bedsores—though they seem little more fond of their exercise than they do of their rest—and they otherwise remain bound and ready to serve. Right now they are about to be... well, 'fed' doesn't do it justice, truly. I implore you to watch."

Davai watched silently as the eight men parted their gowns. They wore nothing underneath and their rampant cocks jutted forth for all to see. Their cocks were not long, perhaps even Davai had a longer member than the shorter among the group, but they were imposingly thick, with plum-sized heads peeking out from their foreskins. All eight men knelt before their captives, and the captives moaned—even though they could not see them, they could surely smell the weapons raised an inch from their mouths.

As one the Mughal men thrust their dicks between their victims' ring-gagged lips, silencing their moans. The men pushed forward inch by inch with no mercy or regard for the prisoners' suffering until each one was hilted inside, balls flush against chins, noses pressed into pubic hair. The only audible noises were muffled retching and a clinking rattle—Davai deduced from the twitching of the closest prisoner that this noise was one of them struggling madly against their bonds to no avail.

The men held themselves in place for a time, and without realizing it Davai had held his breath in a mixture of sympathy and anticipation. He took a deep, dizzy breath once he realized he was holding it, and it was several moments later that all the Mughal men pulled out, resting the tips of their cocks on the edges of their prisoners' ring gags. All of the victims gasped for breath but one retched with startling loudness and spewed a mouthful of clear bile over the tip of their rapist's cock. A cheer went up across the Mughals for this, the perpetrator raising his hands in triumph as the two men nearest to him slapped his back in congratulation.

"To be truthful, the reason I say that 'fed' does not do this task justice," said Karim, devilishly, "is that our hounds tend to lose more food than they swallow."

Before Davai could say a word the men fell upon the hounds and fucked their throats, battering their tonsils with hard, sharp thrusts, leaning over their backs to grope and finger their now-exposed backsides. The prisoners were not silent about their treatment. Some sobbed, some whimpered, one seemed to scream with rage at their predicament, but they all made the *gyack-gyack-gyack* sound of a goose swallowing a too-large piece of bread. The puddles of slop beneath their chins were quickly turning to pools, and the stink of sweat and musk cut through the incense and heady wine that hung about the room.

Davai did not realise that his fists were clenched, though he would not have cared even if he had known. "This is senseless."

"No!" Karim raised his voice, and it broke through the haze of anger and revulsion that clouded Davai's mind sufficiently to make him look his way. "The third hound from the right is a knight's daughter whose father conspired to warn a foreign prince that his alliance of convenience with the Great Empire was no longer convenient, out of degenerate loyalties and a warped sense of honour. We gave the knight a choice, and he was free to walk down the senseless path—to be put to the sword along with his liege, his company, and his entire family to purge any others who might harbour such treasonous intentions. He instead chose the sensible path, and gave up his only daughter to suffer for his sins.

Karim speared a piece of brandy-soaked pear with a tiny silver fork, ate it in two bites, and continued. "Tonight, when she is allowed out of her prison to stretch her limbs and feast on water and stale bread, she will write her father a letter, as she does every week. The letter will tell of her misery, the terror of being enclosed in a space tighter than any casket, the aches that wrack her limbs, the stench of the soldiers who use her as a pleasure toy, the burning, splitting pain in her throat from having it cruelly ravaged every day and every night, the vile taste of her lovers' creamy seed, her longing to see her family and father once more, and her despair at the fate that has befallen her.

"A messenger takes each letter written in her own hand and stained with her own tears, carries it to her father, and reads every word aloud in a private audience to ensure the father knows the consequences that his crimes have wrought. He is the only one who knows of his daughter's fate—all others believe her dead in a tragic accident. We hold the father to a higher standard of loyalty now, and should he fail to meet it the private audience of each reading would become a public audience, and all who know him would see the extent to which he has become dishonoured.

"Two people suffer for a crime that could warrant the sacking of a town and the murder of hundreds," Karim sniffed. "I see nothing senseless in this at all."

Davai looked upon the depraved scene as he considered his host's words. The man using the knight's daughter had pulled out of her mouth and was stroking her cheek with a knuckle, whispering to her in a foreign language. If it was not clear from the way her face scrunched and shuddered, the damp spots soaking through her blindfold made it obvious that she was sobbing hysterically. Her rapist gave her cheek a gentle slap, and then he looked down, pursed his lips, and hocked a thick wad of spit onto the tip of his cock. He slipped his dick between her lips and spread the load all over her mouth, giving her a taste of his saliva before pushing back into her throat.

"...Is this to remain her fate until she expires?" he asked softly.

"Bismillah, no!" Karim seemed scandalized. "This is not a death sentence, it is a period of training. First, she must be broken, like any beast of burden. Once not even the dullest ember of resistance burns within her, she can be taught—both how to serve men, and how to service them. After she has been taught she will go through proving, and once she proves herself, she will become a full serving girl. We will then offer to sell her back to her father, although such relatives are often reticent to take back our poor graduates and reveal the truth of their fates, and if she is not bought, she will be put to work."

"I see." Davai's fingers played along his stockings, but he barely felt them, or anything in fact. His whole body felt as if it was filled with air. "And how, ah, how long is the period of breaking?"

Karim shrugged. "That one has been pledging her undying servitude and begging to be allowed to learn the ways of a harem girl for a month and a half, now. It is a good start, but I should imagine she shall need another month or so of seasoning before she's truly ready."

A serving girl approached Karim and knelt down beside him. Davai recognised her as the girl by the bookshelves who had taken the scroll of offering from him earlier. "Master, I have finished examining the offer of tribute from the Houses of the Amber Plains."

"Very good, Farah. Is it as expected?"

"Roughly so, Master. There are some small differences between the text in Latin and the text in Mongolian, but they seem to be difficulties in translation of little consequence. Would you like me to give you the translation, Master?"

"That would be delightful, thank you."

In the back of his mind, Davai knew that the conversation taking place between his host and his pet scrivener was of vital importance, that it was in fact the very crux of the task he had traveled here to complete, but he could tear neither his eyes nor his ears from the commotion on the dais. All sixteen creatures upon it had reached a fever pitch—mad, unthinking thrusting from the men and panicked wailing from the hounds below them. The men began to climax.

The man using the knight's daughter finished first, bellowing triumphantly as he blew his load deep in her mouth, hunching over her and pulling her head into his crotch until he was finished. With a muffled retch, a thick trail of sperm burst out from between her lips and his cock to run down her chin. He pulled out and for a moment she seemed unable to breathe before she gave a great shuddering cough and two lines of semen spewed out of her nostrils, streaked red from where his rough thrusts had ruptured something within her nose, as more seed burbled out from her mouth.

The next man along finished immediately after, pulling out of his hound's mouth. With one hand he stroked his cock and with the other he caught the splash of spit and bile that spewed from between his victim's lips and rubbed it in their face. As soon as he moved his hand away the first rope of cum hit the hound's forehead, dripping down in a straight line over his blindfold, down his nose, lips and chin and in his mouth. Nearly a dozen more spurts of seed flew forth, plastering the trapped squire's face in thin, slimy sperm, coating his cheeks and concealing his almost-imperceptible shadow of stubble—he had clearly been shaved today—with much landing directly in his mouth.

When the second man finished the remaining six Mughals climaxed more or less at the same time, splitting Davai's attention between them. He saw a couple of the hounds receive a mask of seed in the same manner as the squire, another forced to drink down their gift from a cock buried in their throat, one Mughal let his cum ooze directly onto his hound's tongue before clamping a hand over their mouth to force them to swallow. With horror he watched how one victim—the one who had struggled terribly within her bonds to no avail when the rape began—had her mouth stuffed with a rag before the man pressed the tip of his cock to her hook-stretched nostrils and spewed his seed directly into her nose. The man used his finger to push his molasses-thick semen back up into her nostrils as it threatened to run down her upper lip, forcing her to inhale and presumably swallow it lest she suffocate.

He heard a soft wailing, not muffled or wet enough to have come from one of the hounds, and he turned to see Justyna the woman-gift in her bonds, craning her neck to look at the perverse scene on the dais, tears streaming down her face as she saw her inevitable and fast-approaching fate. A cold weight settled in his stomach. He had delivered her to this, after all, and if there was truly a God who could survey a world with such horrors in it, he was not sure he would ever find forgiveness for such a callous act.

A cough from beside him brought Davai out of his trance-like observation. "Lord Davai," said Karim, "my scribe and I have perused the formal offer of tithe from the Houses of the Amber Plains, and as a representative of the Great Empire I find it appropriate and respectable."

Davai blinked. "Yes," he said, and swallowed. His palms were slick with sweat that did not wick away or dry no matter how much he fussed them along his stockings. "I see, yes. That is good. Thank you, Sir Karim, it is most appreciated."

"Appreciated, pah, it is a good and profitable deal for the Great Empire and an honourable one for the Houses of the Amber Plains. Such a thing is a cause for celebration!” Karim nodded, smiling broadly. “Ihsan, darling, fetch another jug of wine would you?"

Part 5 here: https://writefinch.tumblr.com/post/649559112232894464/the-princes-offering-pt5-noncon-bondage

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67degreenights · 3 years ago

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Hey

Hello,

It’s 67 degrees. The night is clear, there’s not a cloud in sight, and the air quality is moderate according to the Breezometer on my phone. It’s also nearly 3 AM and I’ve learned most of this information from the taskbar of my laptop rather than a poke of the head out my window. I’m, very clearly, still awake.

I haven’t gotten proper sleep since 09/05 when I flew back into town following the funeral of my beloved grandmother. A woman of only 60 who was here one day and gone the next, ripped away faster than we could process.

I learned the hard way that there’s a form of Leukemia that can develop over the course of weeks or even days. By the time we knew what she had, she didn’t have a chance. And a couple days later, she was gone. She was basically asleep during the entire process, I didn’t visit her in the hospital because it would do nothing for closure and put her in danger of COVID in the slightest chance she survived. Instead the last words I spoke to her were “I love you” sent in a text shortly before everything seemed to fall apart. I spent a majority of that awful week trying to stay “strong” and hide any sense of falling apart to avoid any additional stress on my mother, who was losing one of her best friends. I believe holding back helped her, but I got very little time to express my pain to other human beings.

Even something as simple as saying “I miss her” is enough to make me break down. And I know that despite the lack of tears, I’m not fine. I suppose it doesn’t help that its been two months since the last time I took my depression medication and I can feel it biting me in the ass.

Don’t ask me why I haven’t been taking it, I couldn’t tell you. There is no reason. Maybe something inside of me wanted to engage in some twisted form of self harm, where instead of causing myself physical pain, I destroyed my psyche. I feel some days as though the sadness, the heavy weight pressing on the deepest parts of my soul are a part of me. I’m sure everyone feels that way. When I’m sad I feel like I can see everything beautiful in the world, but only through a lens of grief because it exists in a place that I’m disconnected from. When I’m sad I can create works of art, stories about suffering with flowery language and heartbroken characters. It’s these abilities that I wish I could take with me when I’m medicated. I wish I could be happy, but see/create beauty. I think it has to be one or the other, I can’t have both.

I’ve gone back to think about all of the stories I so passionately created and outlined in my head. Stories I crafted thin skeletons for, then abandoned once I was in a better place. It’s quite easy to find patterns in all of them. Characters that feel desperately alone, that self sabotage, that take foolish risks, that desperately need love in their lives. I’ve created characters that are self projections of my fragile mental state, who manage to overcome the pain via love or acts of empowerment and success. Who I am and who I wish I could be.

A little bit about me, I think is in order here. I dropped out of college a few years ago because I was so painfully depressed(and it was painfully untreated) that I could no longer muster up the strength to attend my classes. I believe I was kicked out, maybe suspended. But I was too ashamed to read the letter or find out. I wasted a couple years and more than a couple thousand dollars, not knowing what I wanted in life. I still don’t. I live at home, rent free, leeching off of the generosity of my parents. My friends have either graduated, or are close to it, and have a strong sense of self. Some have already begun living alone and their beautifully decorated and cozy home makes me feel like chewed up gum on the pavement as I exclaim, “This is so cute!”. I can’t even imagine living alone. I feel like I lost the last two years of my life to a pandemic(of which I spent an entire year doing absolutely nothing but sitting at home and playing video games) and had no time to grow or mature. I want to stop making excuses for myself but to do so would mean admitting how pathetic I am.

The entirety of this post was a disorganized, rambling mess. I made this account because I thought writing it in a journal where I’m speaking only to myself would be too depressing. Writing it for the internet void might prove itself to be just as sad but I went into this knowing it likely would only be seen by me. At least here, my words will be immortalized come rain or shine. Unless this website disappears into a maze of defunct links and abandoned servers. It felt good to type it out regardless.

Best Wishes,

67 Degree Nights.

#Depression #grief/mourning #blog

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usashirtstoday · 4 years ago

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angelguk · 6 years ago

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royal au!bangtan

i gave this idea away a while ago but the account never did anything with it nor did they post it so imma just leave this here for anyone who wants to use it as prompt/idea starter

this has nothing to do w/ the fae!au btw

endgame was meant to be either jungkook or taehyung but do what you want! :)

it was roughly based off moon lovers: scarlet heart ryeo minus the time travel and ten times the betrayal

prompt includes: brief plot outline, character outline and first potential chapter (but everything can change pretty easily)

leavin it under here

potential title: affinity meaning a binding by mutual attraction

BANGTAN – TAEHYUNG (Duke), JUNGKOOK (General) NAMJOON (Philosopher/Astronomer) YOONGI (Advisor to King) JIMIN (Duke) HOSEOK (Duke) JIN (Stable Boy)

BRIEF PLOT OUTLINE – Reader is part of a country which is been invaded by the Emperor of the boys Kingdom. (Places need names). During an attack of a village that the reader lives in she is captured. Jungkook was leading that attack and found her hiding in the stables. Reader is the daughter of the leader of that region. Reader is known to have helped her father in many excursions. They capture her and bring her for questioning in the castle. Reader is tortured hoping that information could be taken from her. Reader knows nothing. King orders her execution but Namjoon defies it saying the stars have something in plan for her and they may use her as bait to draw in her father (who fled before the attack or wasn’t there). Yoongi is completely against this. But reader is now sentenced to do stable work / slavery where she meets Jin. They befriend each other quickly – Jin does not know where reader comes from. One day Jungkook needs service on his horse and Reader has to do it. Jungkook causes trouble and his friend, Taehyung (the Duke of some Court/place) is there with him as well as Jimin and Hoseok. Jimin takes the reader’s side while Jungkook and Taehyung are assholes (Only Jungkook knows where she is from). Later that day a maid is dismissed from work (reason unknown yet) and there’s a bit of chaos as they need servers since the main dukes and general are here celebrating a holiday with the King. Reader is randomly chosen by the Chef and is forced to serve. At dinner Jungkook, Yoongi and Namjoon are shocked. King pays little attention to her. Crown Prince keeps on staring at Reader. That dinner is more of a conference meeting event and the Reader hears everything. Start’s to think on how to destroy the King so she can revive her Kingdom. Leads to Yoongi finding her in the Accords (place where important documents about the King and his kingdom are kept) but Namjoon comes to her rescue. Jungkook is also suspicious of her but Taehyung, Hoseok and Jimin take her side. She begins to build a relationship with those three but she finds one of the King’s men (along with the Second Queen) planning an assassination of the Crown Prince. Reader happens to help prevent the death of the crown prince. Jungkook and Yoongi even more suspicious of her. Reader builds relationship with Namjoon and relationship with Taehyung turns romantic. (Now she is a permanent server no longer a stable girl). Not sure where it goes from there.

End Game: Unknown (Either Taehyung or Jungkook – so either the boy who’s been by her side forever or the asshole who became her lover after they stopped being enemies)

Relationships

- Deep friendship w/ Jin

- One way w/ Jimin (Jimin loves her)

- Mutual love/hate Jungkook

- Mutual love Taehyung

- Friendship w/ Namjoon

- Friendship turned romantic/ sexual w/Yoongi (MAYBE?)

- Deep Friendship w/ Hoseok

Names/Places:

· Ennia READERS Kingdom

· Ardeland BANTANS Kingdom

Characters:

- Reader

- Bangtan Members

- Queen Min Soonja (1st Queen)

- Queen Hae Jisoo (2nd Queen)

- Consort Ro Soo Ah (1st Consort)

- Consort Mo Suelgi (3rd Consort)

- Crown Prince Ryo Minho

- King Ryo Gyeong Su

- Prince Young Jae (Son of 2nd Queen)

- Princess Yoona (Daughter of 2nd Queen)

- Princess Hyo Rin (Daughter 1st Queen)

Note: Gardenia is where the Reader was placed for safe keeping while her Father vanished + Jungkook became a General after his father died.

CHAPTER ONE – NO MAN UNDER THE SKY LIVES TWICE

The air carries the pungent stench of death, within it lies the tired breathe of horses, the echoes of metal meeting metal in furious clashs and the faint glimmer of metallic blood. Dust dances in the air he breathes, coating his lungs in a thick layer of earth and smoke. Catani sits beside him, glistening sliver in the harsh sunlight of the Ennia lands. Her sliver body is caked in scarlet blood, slipping slowly off the sharp tip that’d been driven into the bodies of thousands. Her owner glances down, dark hair soaked in sweat clinging onto his forehead. His face is young but time and fighting has begun to show themselves in the deep chocolate eyes he possesses. His gaze stayed on the sword, ignoring the moving world around. The voices of his men chattering and bickering away as they assembled sticks and logs to create a fire fell on his deaf ears. He didn’t hear the crunch of dry grass as a man cloaked in midnight blue dashed towards his huddled figure. Until the man stood before him, panting heavily as sweat dripped from his sliver beard.

“General Jeon, there has been a message for you. From the capital.” The man says the word capital in a hushed whisper, as if the word alone could get him killed.

“What is it.” The boy doesn’t ask, his tone is a clear and solid command. His gaze doesn’t shift from the bloodied weapon either. Instead fingers painted in blue bruises and ivory scars find themselves twisting idly around a tall piece of grass.

The man tuts, lifting his hands to rip the head wrap from his sweltering skull. Hair the colour of moonlight tumbles from the intricate wrap design, falling like a waterfall down his back. “You’re not even going to look at me huh. Little rapscallion.”

The boy laughs. It’s short and brief and it comes out his throat like a cough instead.

“I didn’t need to look at you,” His fingers rise and point idly to the shoes the man was wearing. Curved pointed tips which reach for the skies. Capital shoes – not army boots. “Nobody else wears those bothersome things, Mordecai.”

The man huffs in reply, flopping down beside the boy. His heavy navy cloak hits the ground with a thud, spreading itself around the man’s frail body.

“Alright then Jungkook. But I wasn’t lying when I said there was a message from the capital.”

“What is it.” There’s a slight twinge of impatience in his voice. Reasonable because his arms and legs ached with pain. Tearing through bodies with a sword as heavy as Catani was wasn’t not as easy as he made it seem.

“His Majesty wants you to go forward into Gardenia tomorrow. It’s one of the last few villages we haven’t conquered yet. His Majesty is certain that the princess is there.”

Jungkook sighs, ripping the leaf of grass from its roots and tossing it into the heavy air, now tainted with smoke and fiery orange hue of the setting sun.

“My men haven’t rested for three days. Last night we had to deal with a rabid Kroni attacking our horses. We’re not at all ready for a new advancement. We need at least a day’s rest Mordecai.”

His eyes are on the elderly man, laced with lassitude and dispiritedness. His whole body sagged underneath the heavy armour, almost like he was caving in. Mordecai looked at the boy, yes he was a boy; more the half the men he controlled were his seniors. But he was a boy nonetheless. A boy who’d seen blood and fire. A boy who’d narrowly escaped death and swiftly handed out ones. He may have had the body of an adolescent man but his mind was as old as his father’s once before he’d passed away.

Jungkook always reminded Mordecai of his father.

The older man turned away, fixing his gaze on the blazing fire that’d been erected before them. The heat from the flames combined with Ennia’s natural furnace the sun (which refused to stop giving heat even after it went down) the world was an incinerator.

“You speak to me as if I was the King. I cannot change orders Jungkook. I can only deliver them.”

“I wish you hadn’t delivered this one then.” He’s up, black boots crunching leaves into dust beneath them. His strides are lengthy. His lean tall stature is covered in a black coat, the golden intricate insignia of a King’s General engraved on the back. Dry wind rips at his clothing, ruffling the brown mane his possess. He looks exactly like his father in Mordecai’s eyes.

“Jungkook-ah,” Mordecai says to no one. “There are many messages I wish I hadn’t delivered.” His sigh is carried by the wind to the ears of the young General. “So many.”

You can’t sleep. The night air surrounding you is abuzz with the sounds of glowing dragonflies skittering over the slumbering river beneath your feet. The water is cold to touch, slipping over your nimble fingertips like velveteen. The world is silver and gold; cool moonlight meeting the warmth of the lanterns scattered carelessly around the pathway.

The calm breeze whispers stories in your ears, ruffling the flimsy white nightgown you’d adorned when you’d slipped into the warmth of the blanket back in your room. It hadn’t occurred to you that a jacket would be necessary when the night had called you awake.

The fabric is rough beneath your fingertips, completely unlike the smooth satin dresses that’d your wear in the palace. Here, satin was a thing of treasure. Not one person wore it.

You’re kicking the ground beneath absently, the familiar knot of resent and anger towards your father forming in the pit of your stomach. Why did he have to leave you here? Of all places this tiny village couldn’t have been the best choice. He could have sent his men to collect you when that bastard Ryo attacked. He could have – but he didn’t.

A sigh slips out of your mouth and you spin around, trying in vain to get rid of that feeling that’s been building up in your bones and blood since the attack. The world was a kaleidoscope of grey and black and silver and gold. Glistening rocks surrounded you, shimmering under the glow of the moon. Your shoes skidded across the wet surface beneath, but because of the insane training you’d received from Myrna your balance didn’t falter.

Despite this attempt, the questions that drew you from sleep tumble in your head.

Why did he leave you?

Why didn’t he attack back?

Where did he go?

Is he even alive?

Why Gardenia?

Why?

“Y/N!”

The world is shook from you grasp and you come to a halt, frantically searching the dark trees for the voice which called your name.

“Y/N, why aren’t you in bed?” The voice come from behind you.

*prompt ends here*

#bts prompt #bts prompts #bts fic #bts imagines #bts #kpop scenarios

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socmediamarketingtips-blog · 5 years ago

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Social internet marketing, Truth and Lies

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Social media marketing Peterborough UK Social media seems to be the actual latest buzz word for everyone looking to increase their very own on the web presence and income, however is Social Press Marketing (SMM) most this is cracked up in order to become?

Social media marketing Peterborough UK

S. M. E global businesses are now springing upward everywhere you go these days along with they are telling anyone who will listen about exactly how unbelievably important social press like Myspace twitter in addition to YouTube are going to your organization but, for the common small to medium type of business, can marketing to be able to social networks genuinely are living up to all the particular hype? Is actually spending the small fortune on getting SMM company really really worth that? And has anybody really accomplished their study on this ahead of that they hired someone to established there Facebook business web page? Some SMM companies tend to be preparing things like Facebook or myspace business internet pages (which are usually free) with regard to $600 for you to $1, 000 or far more and telling all their customers that they don't have to have a website because Facebook could be the biggest social network within the world as well as anyone has a Facebook bank account. Now while it may well be real that Fb is the most significant interpersonal network in the entire world and sure, Facebook's associates are probable consumers, typically the real question is actually are generally they actually buying? Email marketing companies are all way too happy to suggests often the positives of social websites such as how many people utilize Zynga or how a lot of tweets were being sent out and about last year and just how a lot of people watch YouTube video and so on but are anyone getting the entire photograph? I once sitting up coming to a SMM "expert" at a business webinar who has been spruiking to any person who else came within earshot in regards to the amazing benefits involving setting up a Myspace business page for small companies (with him of course) and selling on Facebook or myspace. So, intrigued by the actual aforesaid "experts" advice My spouse and i viewed him up about Facebook and then find they had only 14 Fb friends (not a fantastic start). So being the analysis enthusiast that I am, Choice to take a great look into SMM inside regard to selling to help see if the idea truly worked, who manages to do it job for and if the item do why did Interpersonal Media Marketing help these people? And should business really rely so heavily on social support systems for sales?

As any website developer I ended up being constantly (and now increasingly) confronted with numerous sociable networking challenges when leads would say that getting a internet site sounds very good but they possessed some sort of Facebook business webpage and also had been told by simply various sources (the at any time present yet anonymous "they") that social networks ended up the fact to do, yet after going over their demands it became quite obvious which those potential clientele didn't basically know precisely why they essential social marketing networks or SMM to come up with on the net sales, They only wished it. For small to medium sized small business I always recommended constructing a quality website over almost any social network, why? Effectively really simple really simply because web 2 . 0 is Social Mass media, and internet sites are Sociable Networks they are not necessarily company media and enterprise arrangements (that would end up being more like LinkedIn). My partner and i know that sounds straightforward but it's true plus the statistics back it way up. The fact is that will social media marketing falls flat to tell you in which Facebook is a public network not only a search motor and despite the variety of Facebook users and Search engines users being around the particular exact same, people don't make use of Facebook just like that many people use a search powerplant just like Google (which possesses about half the lookup engine market), Google along with Bing to search regarding organization or products. That they use this to preserve in touch with household and friends or even intended for news and leisure. Throughout a recent study produced by the IBM Institute for people who do buiness Value around 55% coming from all social media users expressed that they can do not indulge with brands around societal media at all in addition to only close to 23% really purposefully employ social mass media to interact with models. Now out of all of the people who use social media and who also accomplish interact with companies whether actively or definitely not, the majority (66%) claim they need to experience a company will be connecting honestly before they might socialize.

So how do you actually use social internet marketing? And is usually it even well worth undertaking?

Well first of almost all Outlined on our site say that possessing a well im web page is still going in order to offer you far more small business that social networking in almost all cases especially if a person are a minute channel sized local business due to the fact far more people usually are going to search on "hairdresser Port Macquarie" in a research engine like Google, Bing and Bing than these people ever will on just about any Social Media Site as well as if you have to a web site you're missing out with so much potential business. Nevertheless inspite of all the (not so good) statistics We still realize its still a new good idea for company to work with social media just simply not in the very same way that many of SMM pros are today, Precisely why? Since it's clearly no longer working throughout the way they assert and also. Basically SMM Firms and also Business as the whole looked at great example of such like Facebook as any fresh new market ripe to get the finding and whenever Facebook started obtaining people measured by the thousands PayPal co-founder Peter Thiel invested US$500, 000 with regard to 7% of the organization (in June 2004) along with since these individuals a several venture capital firms made investments into Facebook since October 2007, Microsoft declared that it had acquired the one. 6% share connected with Zynga for $240 , 000, 000. Nonetheless since Facebook's simple start up until at this point (2012) both SMM Corporations and Business get hit a brick wall to truly capitalise about the huge number of Myspace users on the internet. The real truth is numbers does not really equivalent buyers. Is that in a Facebook marketing provider's best interest to chat the differences up? Absolutely. Will be it in the Social Networking like Facebook's needs regarding people to believe this firms can sell en hel masse by promoting using them? Of course the idea is. At the begining of 2012, Facebook or myspace disclosed which its revenue had leaped amazingly 65% to be able to $1 billion in the last season as its revenue and that is mainly from advertising acquired jumped almost 90% for you to $3. 71 billion and so clearly the concept associated with SMM is definitely working available for them but the item is actually working out intended for you? Well... statistically zero, but that does certainly not mean that it by no means will.

I really believe the key difference between social support systems in addition to search engines is objective. People who use Yahoo and google tend to be deliberately searching to get something whenever they complete a search for hairdressers that's what they are usually looking for too distinct time. With similar to Fb the primary intent will be to connect with friends as well as family. In August 08, Mark Zuckerberg themselves explained "I don't think internet sites can be monetized with the same way that will search (Search Engines) performed... In three years through we now have to figure away what the optimum type is. But that will be not each of our primary target today". The most significant problems enterprise face having social systems and SMM is usually belief. According to the APPLE Commence for Business Price study there are "significant holes between exactly what businesses feel consumers treasure and just what consumers say they desire coming from their social media communications along with companies. " Intended for example in our society men and women are not just planning to hand you over right now there recommendations, Facebook likes, responses or details without having some thing back for this, so the outdated pensée "what's in it personally? " comes into participate in. So the principal explanation most people give with regard to interacting with brands or perhaps organization on social growing media is to acquire discount rates, yet the brands and also business themselves think the reason why people interact with all of them upon social media is definitely to learn about new services. For brands and small business receiving discounts only rates high 12th on their listing of logic behind why people communicate with them. Almost all companies believe social media raises advocacy, but only 35 % of consumers recognize.

Businesses need to get more modern ways to help connect with social music whenever they want to view some sort of end result from that. There had been some good initiatives displayed in the IBM analysis regarding companies that experienced gotten some form of a take care of on how to work with social media to their own advantage, remembering that while asked what they perform if they interact with organizations or brand names via interpersonal media, consumers checklist "getting discounts or coupons" along with "purchasing products and services" as the top a pair of pursuits, respectively a You. H ice cream business called Chilly Stone Creamery offered special discounts on their particular products on their Zynga page. Alternatively there is actually a wonderful program presented by Ideal Buys within the U. T referred to as Twelpforce where personnel could respond to customer's inquiries via Twitter. With both equally Cool Stone Creamery in addition to Twelpforce the benefit will be clearly from the favour involving the potential customer as well as the great trick in order to social media is to will sell without trying to dispose of (or shopping like your selling) however most social media promoting is targeted the wrong technique.

Building a tangible consumer to consumer relationship through social media is not necessarily easy and of your gain to business' applying sociable media to boost their very own internet sites Google rankings. Nevertheless company need to know that you can't simply setup a Facebook company page and hope regarding the top. SMM requires efforts as well as potential customers want to see price inside what you have to be able to offer by way of your public media efforts allow them to have anything worth their societal connection and time and then you might get better results.

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himluv · 6 years ago

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Blogland!

I can’t believe it, but May has come and gone. Hello June! This morning, as I stepped into my office my bare toes found rays of sunshine that were so warm I smiled. That’s a simple joy, a promise of summer and the warmth to come over the next couple months, and I am here for it!

Now then, what the heck happened in May?

May Goals

Write 500 words/day for The Steel Armada

Write 2 chapters for Sanctuary

Continue short story submissions

Keep reading

How’d I do?

Write 500 words/day for The Steel Armada

YES!!!!! I wrote a total of 15,758 words for The Steel Armada this month. That’s just over 500 words a day. Now, I didn’t actually sit down every day, but I did write more this month than I have any other month this year.

Write 2 chapters for Sanctuary

Nope. I finished chapter 3 and started chapter 4, but that was it. Just under 1,000 words total for the month on this project.

Continue short story submissions

Yeppers. Lifelike is still out (day 41!), and I just received another rejection on The Cost of Rain this morning. Don’t worry, I just turned around and sent it out to another magazine. No tears over here!

Keep reading

Slowly but surely. According to Goodreads, I read four titles this month. Not great, but I’ll take it.

Total May Word Count: 18,545

I kept May’s goals straightforward because I wasn’t confident in my ability to meet my word count goals. But, I did well! I’m really proud of myself.

During this month I wrote a ton, outlined some chapters, and had a heck of a time corralling ideas into something cohesive. This rewrite is a wild ride, and for now I’m following wherever the characters lead me. I think I’m starting to see how it all gels together, but I won’t know for sure until I get there. Scary stuff, but fun too.

Oh, Sanctuary, I’m so sorry I didn’t get more work done on you. I may have to admit that this project is going to take longer than I initially planned. As long as I finish it this year, that’s fine, but a part of me was really hoping to knock this one out quick.

I did write a couple tumblr drabbles this month, which padded my word count a bit, but they were good fun and had good responses from readers, so yay!

Short story submissions are trucking along. I have a couple thoughts for blog posts about this process so far, so that will probably go up sometime in June.

Reading has ground to a bit of a standstill as I’m caught in a battle of wills with The Master Magician. I’m having a really tough go of it, but I only have 70 pages left. I’m going to make an effort today and tomorrow to just get it over with.

Honorable Mentions?

I’m wracking my brain to think if there were any extra-curricular activities this month. I’ve been table top gaming with my husband and our good friend Ben. One such game saw me acting as the “Game Master” for the very first time. I was nervous, but I had a blast, and I’m definitely considering running a game as a nice storytelling alternative when I need a break from blank pages and condemning cursors.

The blog had its best month EVER this month! Here, have some stats!

Posted 11 blog posts; 4 Weekly Goals Summaries, 3 Book Reviews, 2 Editing Check-Ins, 1 Monthly Recap, and 1 personal post about my laptop.

525 views, with 406 visitors!

Links were clicked 14 times!

7 comments were left!

8 new followers!

This blog is a tiny thing, a determined little tank engine of a site that keeps chugging along despite its relatively low viewership and interaction. There are plenty of writing blogs that have thousands of followers and a number of views that would make my head spin. But that isn’t this blog. And that’s fine. I initially created this site as a place to hold myself accountable and to share my writing experiences. This year, I’m finally doing that. And book reviews, random thoughts, and opinions on fandom and fanfiction.

This consistency in posts is proving itself in the blog’s stats this year. Expect a post about it around the end of June, a sort of six month update.

Madhu and I have been going on biweekly Walk ‘n’ Talks. She’s a morning person, so we usually hit a local park around 9/9:30, before the masses, and march about talking about our books. We hash out any foggy areas in one another’s feedback and I tend to do a lot of brainstorming/thinking out loud when I’m with her. Plus, I need motivation to do more activity out of doors. I’ve been a bit of a hermit this month.

Which brings us to June.

June’s To-Dos

Write 500 words/day on The Steel Armada

Write chapters 4 and 5 of Sanctuary

Continue short story submissions

Keep reading!

Straightforward worked last month, why change it? I am upping my workload on Sanctuary, mainly because I don’t want to sit on this project forever. I’d really like to have both The Steel Armada and Sanctuary done by November so I can work on something new for NaNoWriMo this year.

Short story submissions will continue until the stories find homes. It sort of feels like cheating making it a goal for the month, but I suspect that, as the rejections pile up, it will be harder and harder to convince myself to carry on. So, I keep it on the board. That way I’ll be reminded and determined to keep submitting.

And the reading. We all know by now that writing and reading go hand in hand. What’s the phrase? Can’t stop, won’t stop! Also, a quick shout out to the lovely folks that left series recommendations on my review for Skin Game. I’ve got the first Vampire Files audiobook on hold, as well as the first book in the Peter Grant series. I appreciate you both, and can’t wait to try these stories out!

As for non-writing/reading plans in June… I got pretty much nothing. Which is wonderful. We’re supposed to start playing Gloomhaven this month, which I can’t wait for. I’m trying to keep myself spoiler-free for this game, but what little I’ve heard about it sounds very, very exciting.

Um… other than that, yard work, a couple of nebulous hiking plans, and catching the Farmer’s market on Saturdays. That’s all I got, but it’s wonderful.

Happy June, everyone.

The Recap – May 2018 Blogland! I can't believe it, but May has come and gone. Hello June! This morning, as I stepped into my office my bare toes found rays of sunshine that were so warm I smiled.

#Blogging #Book Reviews #Books #Editing #goals #goodreads #Reading #Rewriting #Short Stories #stats #Submissions #word counts #Writing

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orbemnews · 4 years ago

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Google offered a professor $60,000, but he turned it down. Here's why He put in for the award, he said, “because of my sense at the time that Google was building a really strong, potentially industry-leading ethical AI team.” Soon after, that feeling began to dissipate. In early December, Timnit Gebru, the co-leader of Google’s ethical AI team and a prominent Black woman in a mostly White, male field, abruptly left Google. On Wednesday, December 2, she tweeted that she had been “immediately fired” for an email she sent to an internal mailing list. In the email she expressed dismay over the ongoing lack of diversity at the company and frustration over an internal process related to the review of a then-unpublished research paper about the risks of building ever-larger AI language models — a buzzy kind of AI that is increasingly important to Google’s enormous search business. At the time, Gebru said Google AI leadership told her to retract the paper from consideration for presentation at a conference, or remove her name from it. Google said it accepted Gebru’s resignation over a list of demands she had sent via email that needed to be met for her to continue working at the company. Gebru’s ouster kicked off a months-long crisis for the company, including employee departures, a leadership shuffle, and an apology from Google’s CEO for how the circumstances of Gebru’s departure caused some employees to question their place there. Google conducted an internal investigation into the matter, results of which were announced on the same day the company fired Gebru’s co-team leader, Margaret Mitchell, who had been consistently critical of the company on Twitter following Gebru’s exit. (Google cited “multiple violations” of its code of conduct.) Meanwhile, researchers outside Google, particularly in AI, have become increasingly distrustful of the company’s historically well-regarded scholarship and angry over its treatment of Gebru and Mitchell. All of this came into sharp focus for Stark on Wednesday, March 10, when Google sent him a congratulatory note, offering him $60,000 for his proposal for a research project that would look at how companies are rolling out AI that is used to detect emotions. Stark said he immediately felt he needed to reject the award to show his support for Gebru and Mitchell, as well as those who yet remain on the ethical AI team at Google. “My first thought was, ‘I have to turn it down’,” Stark told CNN Business. Stark is among a growing number of people in academia who are citing the exits of Gebru and Mitchell for recent decisions to forfeit funding or opportunities provided by the company. Some AI conference organizers are rethinking having Google as a sponsor. And at least one academic who has received a big check from Google in the past has since declared he won’t seek its financial support until changes are made at the company. “In good conscience, I can no longer accept funding from a company that treats its employees in this manner,” Vijay Chidambaram, an assistant professor at the University of Texas at Austin who studies storage systems, told CNN Business. Chidambaram previously received $30,000 from Google in 2018 for a research project. The money involved is of little consequence to Google. But the widening fallout from Google’s tensions with its ethical AI team now pose a risk to the company’s reputation and stature in the AI community. This is crucial as Google battles for talent — both as employees at the company and names connected to it in the academic community. “I think this is wider spread than even the company realizes,” Stark said. Declining in solidarity Despite his initial inclination, Stark didn’t immediately refuse Google’s award. He spoke to colleagues about what he planned to do — “People were supportive of whichever decision I made,” he said — before sending Google his response the following Friday. He thanked the company for the “vote of confidence” in his research, but wrote that he was “declining this award in solidarity with Drs. Gebru and Mitchell, their teammates, and all those who’ve been in similar situations”, according to emails viewed by CNN Business. “I look forward to the possibility of collaborating with Google Research again, at such time as the organization and its leaders have reflected on their decision in this case, addressed the harms they’ve caused, and committed, in word and deed, to fostering critical research and products that support equity and justice,” Stark wrote. He tweeted about his decision to reject the award as well, to make it public, noting that many people can’t afford to turn down such funding from Google or other companies. Stark is able to forgo the money because his department at Western University is sufficiently funded. The award from Google would have provided extra research money, he said. “All we can do is what we can reasonably do — and this was something I felt I could,” Stark tweeted. Gebru said she appreciated Stark’s action. “It’s a pretty huge deal for someone to decline Google sponsorship,” she told CNN Business. “Especially someone who’s early in their career.” A Google spokesperson said that, over the past 15 years, the company has furnished over 6,500 academic and research grants to those outside Google. Stark is the first person to turn one down, according to the spokesperson. “It was a real fiasco the way they were treated” Yet Stark’s decision is just the latest show of solidarity with Gebru and Mitchell. The first obvious sign of anger came just after Gebru left Google. A Medium post decrying her departure and demanding transparency about Google’s decision regarding the research paper quickly gained signatures of Google employees and supporters within the academic and AI fields; by late March, its number of supporters had swelled to nearly 2,700 Google employees and over 4,300 others. In early March, the conference to which Gebru and her coauthors had submitted the paper, the ACM Conference on Fairness, Accountability, and Transparency, or FAccT, halted its sponsorship agreement with Google. Gebru is one of the conference’s founders, and served as a member of FAccT’s first executive committee. Google had been a sponsor each year since the annual conference began in 2018. Michael Ekstrand, co-chair of the ACM FAccT Network, confirmed to CNN Business that the sponsorship was halted, saying the move was determined to be “in the best interests of the community” and that the group will “revisit” its sponsorship policy for 2022. Ekstrand said Gebru was not involved in the decision. Also in March, two academics protested Google’s actions by tweeting that they decided not to attend an invitation-only robotics research event that was being held online. Hadas Kress-Gazit, a Cornell robotics professor, was one of them; she said she was invited in January but grew more reticent as the event drew closer. “It was a real fiasco the way [Gebru and Mitchell] were treated. Nobody apologized to them yet even,” she told CNN Business in a recent interview. “I don’t want to interact with companies that behave that way toward top researchers.” Google’s efforts to push boundaries in AI Google is aware that its reputation as a research institution has been harmed in recent months, and the company has said it’s intent on fixing it. In a recent Google town hall meeting, which Reuters first reported on and CNN Business has also obtained audio from, the company outlined changes it’s making to its internal research and publication practices. “I think the way to regain trust is to continue to publish cutting-edge work in many, many areas, including pushing the boundaries on responsible-AI-related topics, publishing things that are deeply interesting to the research community, I think is one of the best ways to continue to be a leader in the research field,” Jeff Dean, Google’s head of AI, said. He was responding to an employee question regarding outside researchers saying they will read papers from Google “with more skepticism now.” Gebru hopes that, like FAccT, more conferences will reevaluate their relationships with tech companies’ research labs. Historically, much of the work in the development and study of AI has been performed within academic settings. But as companies have found more and more commercial uses for the technology, the lines between the academic and corporate worlds have blurred. Google is just one of many tech companies that wields a large amount of influence over academic conferences that publish many of its researchers’ papers; its employees sit on conference boards and it sponsors numerous conferences each year, sometimes to the tune of tens of thousands of dollars. For instance, Google and some subsidiaries of its parent company, Alphabet, were listed as $20,000 “platinum” and $10,000 “gold” level sponsors at the International Conference on Machine Learning, or ICML and the Conference on Neural Information Processing Systems, or NeurIPS, in 2020 — both key AI conferences. And some of the company’s employees sit on their organizing committees. ICML president John Langford said the conference is “presently open for sponsorship” by Google for its 2021 conference, which is set for July. “There is quite a bit of discussion ongoing about how ICML as a conference should encourage good machine learning culture and practices with future sponsorship policy a part of that discussion,” he added. NeurIPS executive director Mary Ellen Perry said the conference hasn’t yet made its annual call for sponsorships, but that requests “will be evaluated against a set of selection guidelines put in place by this year’s sponsorship chairs”; NeurIPS is scheduled for December. For Stark and others in the academic research community, however, their criteria for accepting funds from Google have already changed. “Extra research money would be great,” Stark said. “But it was something I felt like I just couldn’t take.” Source link Orbem News #Google #Heres #offered #Professor #turned

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