#its still the 16th somewhere.

[velvetwyrme]

its still salvageable right?

[carrotshark]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY VENTI ‼️‼️🍃

[spark1edog]

im in a terrible mood today idk why

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Judy Garland (Meet Me In St. Louis, A Star is Born, Summer Stock)— Judy is the GOAT when it comes to classic movie musicals. The voice of an angel who deserved so much better than she got. She can sing she can dance she can act she's a triple threat. Though she had a turbulent personal life (her treatment as a child star by the studio system makes me mad as hell like Louis b Mayer fight me ((she was made to believe that she was physically unattractive by the constant criticism of film executives who made her feel ugly and who manipulated her onscreen appearance by capping her teeth and using discs in her nose to change its shape and Mayer called her "my little hunchback" like imagine hearing that as a child and not having damage)) she always goddamn delivered on screen and in any performance she gave. She began in vaudeville performing with her sisters and was signed to MGM at 13. Starting out in supporting parts especially paired with mickey Rooney in a bunch of films (she's the best part tbh) she eventually transferred to the lead role. She is best known for her starring role in movie musicals like the iconic Wizard of Oz (somewhere over the rainbow still hits hard and is ranked the top film song of all time), meet me in St. Louis (Judy singing have your self a merry little Christmas brings tears to the eyes she is that powerful), the Harvey girls (she looks like a technicolor dream and sings a catchy af song about trains), Easter parade ( dancing and singing with Fred Astaire), for me and my gal, the pirate, and summer stock ( with pal Gene Kelly who she helped when he was starting out and he helped her when she was struggling). But she also does non- singing just as well like the clock ( her first movie where she sings no songs and is an underrated ww2 era romance), her Oscar nominated a star is born ( like the man that got away she put her whole soul in that and I have beef with the fact she lost to grace kelly ((whom I love but like still not even her best work)), and judgement at Nuremberg (a courtroom drama about the nazi war criminal trials). Outside of film she made concert appearances to record-breaking audiences, released 8 studio albums, and had her own Emmy-nominated tv series. She was the youngest (39) and first female recipient of the Cecil B DeMille award for lifetime achievement in the film industry. Girl was a lifelong democrat and was a financial and moral supporter of many causes including the civil rights movement (she was at the March on Washington and held a press conference to protest the 16th street Baptist church bombings). She was a friend of the Kennedy family and would call jfk weekly often ending the calls by singing the first few lines of somewhere over the rainbow (she thought of them as Gemini twins).She was a member of the committee for the first amendment which was formed in response to the HUAC investigations. Though she died far too young and tragically she remains an icon for her work and her life. As a girl who didn't feel like i was as pretty as everyone else I have always felt a connection to Judy and I just really love her.

Natalie Wood (West Side Story, The Great Race)—She went through so much shit which I know can be said for all these women but Natalie really was a star and her death often overshadows her career and life. She could make you cry, but she also had the capacity to be incredibly funny which I think is lost on people.

This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Natalie Wood:

Judy Garland:

Judy's voice alone qualifies her for at least top ten hottest HOT VINTAGE MOVIE WOMEN. She was a truly incredible swing singer, with a stunning voice on top of her technique. Her short dark hair looked incredible in just about any style. Have I mentioned her swagger? I can’t do it justice with words. She had swagger. She was funny as hell, and clever too. Incredibly charming and cool. I adore her.

Her eyes, her voice have bewitched me

I mean how can you beat the one and only Judy? She's beautiful, her smile is contagious, the way she sings with her whole body. You can't help but love her.

Beautiful woman, love her singing voice. And she can do everything between happy or silly and angry or heartbroken

[originalaccountname]

in Storm Bringer, Iceman mentions Chuuya punching a guy through (several) ceilings for having asked him about his past. That guy was a wholeseller Chuuya was supposed to be making a deal with for the jewel trade he was in charge of. That incident happened July 18th, and it took the guy 3 months to heal.

Now, we know both halves of skk were 15 in, well, Fifteen, and that at this time in SB, they should both be 16. Chuuya's birthday is in April, and Dazai's, June.

Since there was a time skip of a month at the end of Fifteen, the punching incident can't have been from then, as we need at least that amount of time for Dazai's birthday to have already passed. So this was after the boys' 16th birthdays, July 18th +3 months, placing SB's events at somewhere at least mid-October, even November.

The events of SB take place over like, at most, 2 weeks, between the Flags' deaths and the final fight. Then, there's another one-month skip in the epilogue, +1.5 month, so we're now at minimum in December-January range.

The Dragon's Head Conflict is said to have happened "shortly after the King of Assassins incident". Skk should still be 16 during the conflict, so we have until the end of April to get there. The conflict lasted for 88 days, nearly 3 months, bringing us to a bare minimum of it starting at the tail end of January.

What I'm saying is there was barely 6 months, most likely even less, between SB and the end of the Dragon's Head Conflict. The PM might have mostly avoided taking part in it (canon reason why they managed to take over the underworld in its wake), but they still suffered from it all the same, especially since they had just spent and lost a lot of resources during their fight against Verlaine.

Also Chuuya must have had like 3 months to make those friends before losing them too.

[polyamships]

Polyamships is hosting #MultiamoryMarch2024

[Image description in ALT. Prompts in plain text under the cut.]

Once again we gather to celebrate polyamory in all its forms: OT3s, OT4s, OT8s, V-relationships, QPRs, sedoretus, and any configuration you can think of. In the spirit of this month, we invite you to create works in any medium using the prompts above if you need a little inspiration. You can also create freely or even use one of our prompts from past years we’d still love to see fanworks for if they inspire you better. If you use a prompt, please make sure to let us know which prompt you’re creating for somewhere on your post.

At us @polyamships and use the tags #MultiamoryMarch and #MultiamoryMarch2024 in the first five tags so we can hopefully see it. If you don’t see us reblog your post within a few days feel free to send us an ask to let us know, or submit it via our googleform here, in case we’ve missed your post or the tags/notifications are being weird.

All ratings are welcome but anything nsfw/triggery should be warned for and behind a read more, as should very long tumblr fic.

We also have an AO3 collection for the event that can be found here and the collection name is ‘multiamory_march_works’.

We can’t wait to see what you create for the month, and please do spread the word about the event. ❤️♾️

Over the next month or two, we will also be doing a number of posts with expanded ideas for each prompt for anyone who needs a little more inspiration than just the one or two word style.

Under the cut you can find the prompts in written form:

March 1st - Kiss March 2nd - Hope March 3rd - Negotiations March 4th - Misunderstanding March 5th - Online March 6th - Gifs March 7th - Allies March 8th - Hurt March 9th - Acting March 10th - Neighbors March 11th - Double March 12th - Struggling March 13th - Fantasy March 14th - Mentor March 15th - Caring March 16th - Fiction March 17th - Comet March 18th - Team-up March 19th - Break March 20th - Journey March 21st - Wonder March 22nd - Pirate March 23rd - Begging March 24th - Night March 25th - Commitment March 26th - Matchmaker March 27th - Steal March 28th - Swap March 29th - Blade March 30th - Touch March 31st - Co-living

[stealingyourbones]

Submitted Prompts #82

So I found out that besides beating the absolute tar out of Jason, Bruce also dragged him back to Ethiopia to relive his traumatic death/revival in hopes of finding a way to bring back a recently dead Damian[???]

Mind you, I absolutely hate thinking about how abusive Bruce is towards his kids and would rather pretend he’s a parent who tries, you know? But fuck if that cursed kernel of knowledge spark an idea:

There’s been a couple of fics that play with the idea that forcing a ghost to relive their death is a major taboo in the Ghost Zone, severely punishable and all that jazz.

Now it’s the aftermath [however that was, Idk], peeps are probably rejoicing over Damian’s revival [right?] and Jason’s most likely somewhere, you know, coping I assume. 

Until Walker is knocking on their door and demanding their presence to the Court of the Dead [Don’t remember if it had a name, this sounded pretty cool lol] stating that Batman’s presence is required to receive his sentence.

As all things are when it comes to Walker, he doesn’t give them a choice.

Jason’s call comes a bit more peacefully, mind you, but given it’s an eyeball, it probably wasn’t much better.

Cue Jason poofing onto some chair in some courtroom, thinking he’s the one in trouble, cue Batman poofing in that giant glass cage [You know, the one Vortex was stuck in upon his intro]

Everyone, predictably, are unarmed.

Jason is unsure what to feel at the sight of them.

Walker in all his weird size shifting glory, steps forward to loom over Bruce, large book in hand and sneering down at the human trapped before him, “Bruce Thomas Wayne, alias Batman, founding member of the Justice League, you’ve been summoned to the Court of the Dead to receive your sentence.”

“On what charges?”

Walker’s sneer deepened, “On what charges?, he says.”

The book in his hands quickly sift through pages, one after the other until it comes to a stop, popping up in a screen for all to see its contents, Death’s Echo, the chapter title says.

“Why, you’ve committed the ultimate taboo, human. Victim of the Echo: Jason Peter Todd, alias Red Hood alias Robin II, date of birth August 16th, 1993, date of death April 11th, 2008, date of awakening October 27th, 2008. Date of the crime d/m/y.

You’ve forced a ghost to relive their death, violated the peace of their core, potentially destabilizing a ghost’s existence. Upon Death’s Sermon, or for the betterment of your puny human understanding: You broke a law, a law punishable by termination.”

“He’s not dead.�� Despite what become of their relationship, all the bloody conflicts that have followed, Bruce can’t stand the idea of Jason dying. 

One of the many eyeballs that seem to take up the majority of the court, steps - ahem! floats - forward, and despite lacking any other facial features, gives him what is noticeably a look Alfred would give him when he’s being particularly bull-headed, “That is irrelevant. The boy still carries the mark of death with him, therefor is still a denizen of the Infinite Realms, therefor still falls under our jurisdiction.”

“And all rights to the Court’s defense.” Walker adds, closing the book in his hand with a pointed snap, “You’ve been out ruled, punk.”

The batfam are looking around them as the entire room full of ghost clamor for Bruce’s termination, angry and indignant alike.

Tim - despite all his years of training - panics and doesn’t think twice before standing from his seat and calling the large ghost’s attention, ignoring Dick’s frets, “And where’s your evidence? Where are your witnesses to back up these claims, do you even have any?" 

The sudden silence is almost smothering, and Jason can’t help but watch as all eyes turn to the boy in question.

In all honesty, he doesn’t know how to feel about all this, about Bruce being charged for what basically amounts to torture in these creatures’ eyes, not even over the fact that he still seems to be considered dead. 

"For a genius, for a detective, you don’t seem to know much about death, do you?”

The ghost all seem to straighten at the sound of the voice, almost like they’re a classroom being called to attention. Despite its calm volume, it carries throughout the whole room, demanding everyone’s attention, their respect.

The bats immediately zero in on the source, a large chair big enough to be considered a throne sits in the first floor, enshrouded by shadows, the lighting of the room doesn’t seem to touch it at all, only lit by the green flame of a crown. Showing them measly impressions of a man’s face. 

The man stands, steadily walking forward till he’s standing in the light. He’s tall, broad, looks about Bruce’s age, and is donning black armor. His presence fills the whole room.

He bothers Bruce only a glance as he passes him before he fixes his attention back on the boy. 

“Now I know you’re not naive, Tim Drake. Death is everywhere, no matter how seemingly clean, no matter how peaceful, there’s no place on this planet death hasn’t touched; death is my domain, I see and I hear the voices of those who have passed - do you know what that means?”

“You have eyes everywhere.” Tim concluded, uneasy in what this might mean.

“I do. Now I can show you and your siblings the whole event, but for the sake of Jason’s continued peace of mind, I will not. Point stands: This is not a trial, Timothy, this is a sentence - your father does not get defendants or supposed witnesses to offer evidence of his supposed innocence, there isn’t any.”

Tim doesn’t know what to feel when the man turns his attention towards Jason, who despite the harrowing experience, has remained utterly silent throughout the whole endeavor. Jason despite his mass and his known capabilities, looks meek under the ghost’s attention, bracing for whatever he might say.

It’s off-putting.

“I have eyes and ears everywhere, detectives, that very much includes the victim in question. Now Jason, I want you to answer me honestly, and I promise you that you’re safe here, can you do that?”  

Jason’s eyes swept over the whole room, glancing at his siblings before stopping on Bruce, still silent, still ever brooding and angry, before offering a small shrug in response, “I guess.”

“Did he force you to relive your death and subsequent revival?”

“………He did.”

Jason thought it was a chance to join in on a collaborative mission, all hands on deck and all that jazz, hoping for reconciliation, to mend things.

“Did you give your consent on the matter?”

He just wanted to move on, to leave all that anger and resentment, all that pain, behind him. He thought Bruce wanted the same, but apparently not, Bruce didn’t seem to care about what he was asking of him, he just wanted some chance to get his son back.

Like Jason never mattered.

Jason offers a small shake of head in response, trying to ignore the way everyone stared at him, “No.”

The man gives him a reassuring smile, bowing his head in gratitude and Jason only feels relieved to be rid of the attention as the king looks towards the rest of the family

“Lucky for you, however, Bruce is still very much human. So he won’t be facing termination,”

“Your highness -” A swift hand silence the skull faced ghost

They don’t relax, they can tell there’s more to the offered appeasing.

The family sits in silence as this kings dishes out Bruce’s punishment. 

Any further interaction Batman has will be on Jason’s terms, he will not seek Jason out, he will not make demands, he will certainly not impose his will on him.

Along that, he is no longer permitted to step foot in Crime Alley and anywhere else that might be considered Jason’s territory [haunt, they called it haunt, it felt daunting being showed the ghostly significance in it.] without expressed permission. If there’s a moment in time where Batman’s presence suddenly becomes unwanted, Jason apparently possesses the power to evict him.

Bruce is stripped of any sort of control he might’ve had over his wayward son. The court is in Jason’s favor for once, it seems.

Batman is not allowed to use anyone else in his favor. 

Bruce Wayne certainly isn’t exempt from these demands. The Ghost King seems to know them very well [Eyes. Everywhere] and seemed to be prepared for them to seek out any loopholes.

Any attempts to disregard these demands and he will be guarded. Heavily. By shadows, and by his very own ghosts.

The ghost king derives a lot of pleasure in informing Bruce that his parents never left his side, watched his struggles, watched his successes, his relationships with partners and children alike. 

Jason almost wants to say it seems cruel to throw in Bruce’s face the disappointment his parents feel in Bruce’s…..less stellar parenting methods.

He’s still trying not to think about the fact everyone is apparently being haunted by the souls of the people most important to them.

Bruce remains utterly silent, looking for all the world like the weight on his shoulders has double, troubled as the time pressed on, until he utters.

“And how long will this sentence be?”

“Until you both can completely trust - no wait, scratch that, Jason already trusted you, had faith in you, something of which you had no remorse in taking advantage of. No, until you learn how to trust him.”

The bats try not to wince at that.

[whencyclopedia]

Interview: Refugees & Reformation in 16th-Century Frankfurt

In the 16th century, German cities and territories welcomed thousands of refugees fleeing the religious persecution sparked by the Protestant Reformation. In Strange Brethren: Refugees, Religious Bonds, and Reformation in Frankfurt, 1554-1608, Professor Maximilian Miguel Scholz explores one major destination for refugees—Frankfurt am Main—and underscores how they inspired new religious bonds, religious animosities, and religious institutions. In this interview, James Blake Wiener speaks to him about his title and the unique social climate that pervaded the Hessian city.

Cover: Strange Brethren: Refugees, Religious Bonds, and Reformation in Frankfurt, 1554-1608

Association of University Presses (Copyright, fair use)

JBW: Professor Scholz, thank you so much for speaking with me on behalf of World History Encyclopedia (WHE). When many think of Protestant refugees in the Early Modern Era, their minds usually turn to the plight of Huguenots or Anabaptists. Many of them found refuge in cities like London, Amsterdam, Geneva, and Hamburg. What was it that first attracted you to the history of 16th-century Frankfurt am Main? Moreover, what differentiated Frankfurt am Main from other Protestant cities within the Holy Roman Empire?

MS: Frankfurt hosted thousands of refugees in the 16th century. It still does today! But the city is often overlooked because the documents pertaining to its 16th-century experience of refugee accommodation were destroyed by the U.S. and British militaries in 1944. I wanted to shine new light on Frankfurt’s centrality in the story of Protestant refugees. Frankfurt lay at the center of Germany, which it still does today. It was also the symbolic capital of Germany, where the Holy Roman Emperors were elected and crowned. (After the Second World War, there was a push to make Frankfurt the capital of Germany once more.) Frankfurt was the transportation hub of Germany then as it still is now. If we want to understand how refugees impacted German society, Frankfurt is the ideal place to start. Beyond its prominence in Germany, Frankfurt was different from other German cities because its Reformation had followed the lead of Martin Bucer rather than Martin Luther (though of course Frankfurters loved Luther too). Bucer had advocated for reforms that fell somewhere between the later Calvinist and Lutheran camps.

Religions in Europe in the 16th Century

Simeon Netchev (CC BY-NC-ND)

JBW: Repeated bombing by British and American air forces destroyed many of Frankfurt’s churches and archives in 1944. If I’m not mistaken, Frankfurt was formerly the largest half-timbered city center in Germany too, so a great deal was lost in a very short period of time. Could you comment on the tremendous hurdles you and fellow scholars face in researching Frankfurt am Main’s Early Modern history as a result?

MS: Yes, Frankfurt’s archive suffered grievously. The archive’s director believed the Nazi fantasy that Germany was impervious to assault, so he did not protect the archive’s treasures by moving them underground. Thus, the bombings of 1944 destroyed about 70% of the archive’s holdings, including the Acta Ecclesiastica, which documented the birth of Protestantism in Frankfurt. Historians interested in the religious changes of the 16th century need to use either non-civic sources (like the records of the Dutch and French Reformed communities in Frankfurt, which were not housed at the archive) or reproductions of the original sources, which can be found in the appendices of many pre-WWII histories of Frankfurt. My book relied on documents from an imperial court case in 1720. The Dutch and French Reformed (i.e. Calvinists) sued the city of Frankfurt at the imperial supreme court, and both the sides collected and printed documents from the Reformation that they believed helped their case.

Reformation Wall

Henri Bouchard and Paul Landowski  (CC BY-SA)

JBW: Frankfurt am Main received French-, Dutch-, and English-speaking Protestant refugees throughout the 1550s, 1560s, and 1570s. Many of the earliest refugees were the so-called “Marian exiles.” Who were these early exiles, what brought them to Frankfurt am Main, and how long did they stay in Hesse?

MS: These exiles were the earliest Protestants (though they did not call themselves that), and they were fleeing Catholic rulers. The point of contention was the Catholic mass. The refugees in my book refused to attend the Catholic mass, because they rejected the idea that a priest could perform a ritual on an altar that would summon forth the actual body of Jesus. These people considered this idolatrous and believed the mass should be replaced by a simplified eucharist, which would focus on the Bible and memorialize the Last Supper. The Catholic authorities began to violently persecute those who did not attend the mass, and these early Protestants faced a choice: be martyred at home or flee abroad. Thousands fled to Frankfurt, which as an independent city (it was not then part of Hesse) could rule its own religious affairs, to an extent. In the case of English Protestants fleeing the Catholic Queen Mary I of England (the Marian exiles), they returned when she died and was replaced by the Protestant Queen Elizabeth I of England. Thus, they were in Frankfurt for just five years. Other refugees from the Low Countries settled in Frankfurt and have descendants who still live in the city.

JBW: Professor Scholz, how did Lutheran elites and ordinary citizens in Frankfurt am Main first react to the presence of Calvinist refugees? What subsequently changed over the next few decades?

MS: At first, they welcomed them. They considered these newcomers brethren, who had suffered under the cruel rule of tyrannical Catholics like Charles V and Mary Tudor. But it proved difficult to live alongside these newcomers, many of whom were richer than the citizens of Frankfurt. When Frankfurters witnessed the church services of the refugees, they realized that these people practiced Christianity differently. Frankfurters were scandalized that the refugees took the bread of the eucharist into their own hands. And they were further disgusted that the refugees brought their screaming children with them into the churches. Frankfurt’s pastors were the first to turn on the newcomers, demanding that they conform to Frankfurt’s ritualistic practices or leave the city. The pastors whipped up a popular hatred of the refugees.

Martin Bucer

Unknown Artist (Public Domain)

JBW: I think some readers who are relatively unfamiliar with the history of the Protestant Reformation may be surprised to learn about the high degree of confessional strife and rivalry between Calvinists and Lutherans. Could you thus explain to us how officials in Frankfurt am Main ultimately circumscribed Calvinist worship and freedom?

MS: The refugees and native Frankfurters split into two religious camps that we now call Calvinist (they called themselves Reformed) and Lutheran (they called themselves Evangelical), and this division became violent at times. For Americans, living in a country that has separated religion from government, it can be hard to imagine how little differences in worship or belief could have resulted in legal trouble, expulsion, or worse. Once Frankfurt’s leaders concluded that the refugees were “Calvinists” they banned them from applying for citizenship and closed their churches. Periodic riots against the refugee community resulted in deaths and the burning down of a small chapel the Reformed had built outside the city wall.

JBW: How would you characterize the Calvinist refugees’ religious and civic impact upon Frankfurt am Main? Can we still detect their legacy in the city today?

MS: They enriched Frankfurt enormously by bringing in goods and industry from the Low Countries. The Low Countries were the most industrially advanced part of Europe, and the Protestants who fled places like Antwerp took their industrial know-how with them into German cities like Frankfurt. And when Frankfurt began to harass these newcomers, they settled in little towns outside of Frankfurt, towns which became (and still are) hubs of industry, like Hanau and Offenbach.

Frankfurt on the Main, c. 1617

Matthäus Merian (Public Domain)

JBW: What lessons can we draw from the experiences of the Calvinist refugees in Frankfurt am Main that could perhaps be applied to our own era?

MS: Welcoming, resettling, and integrating refugees into a city can be very difficult and may provoke problems that persist for generations. But it is not impossible. The internal cultural organizations of a refugee community (like the Calvinist consistory in 16th-century Frankfurt) can help facilitate financial support for refugees, management of their affairs, and integration into the host city. We need to confront the reality that it may take generations for refugees and their descendants to embrace (and be embraced by) host societies.

JBW: Professor Scholz, thanks so much for your time and consideration! I wish you many happy adventures in writing and research.

MS: Thank you so much for your questions.

Professor Maximilian Miguel Scholz

Association of University Presses (Copyright, fair use)

Biographical précis:

Professor Maximilian Miguel Scholz specializes in the social and religious history of early modern Europe and teaches at Florida State University. His first book, Strange Brethren: Refugees, Religious Bonds, and Reformation in Frankfurt, 1554-1608 (University of Virginia Press, 2022) explores the fate and impact of Reformation refugees by looking at one center of European refugee life, the city of Frankfurt am Main. His second book, tentatively titled The Great Refugee Realignment: How Forced Migrants Transformed Government in Northern Europe, 1550-1750 uses refugee treaties collected from archives across Europe to illuminate the ways refugees transformed governments, stimulating the growth of centralized bureaucracies and contributing new ideas about political membership and new systems for managing religious, ethnic, and migration-status diversity.

Continue reading...

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

WIP Weekend

Weekly WIP update

Chapter 5 of Updraft is done! 🎉 Only two chapters to go, and only a little more than 7 weeks before posting starts on September 16th. Going to focus mainly on getting the rest finished in time for posting period.

I did manage to make a little progress on The King's Gift, because I've been itching to write the next scene. 👀

Still working on some ficlets and continuing some of my mini series on the side, and thinking of maybe expanding on one once I finish Updraft.

Send me an emoji, and I'll write and share three sentences of that project.

🏰 The King's Gift

⚙️ Updraft

✨️ Random ficlet

Snippet from 🏰

“Steve!” Eddie shouts, but before he can reach him, Steve finds himself grabbed by the arm and yanked back. He lands on his ass on the cobblestones, teeth clacking together from the impact. When he looks up, Gareth is shoving himself in front of him, flanked by his two companions.

“Stay back,” he snaps when Steve attempts to scramble to his feet. “Leave this to people who actually know-”

The rest of his sentence is lost in another blood-curdling shriek. The three guards whirl, pulling swords and spears from their belts.

“No, wait!” one of the kids shouts somewhere to the side. Erica, maybe, Steve thinks. “You can't use iron, you obnoxious oafs, it'll-”

Gareth's sword connects with the monster's chest and Steve sees how grim triumph blooms on his face, but it only lasts a second. Then, he pulls the blade free, and his expression morphs into horrified surprise. He skids backwards, knocking into the other two.

The wraith’s praying flesh begins to crawl, covering the gaping wound in thick, slimy tendrils. Within a matter of seconds, it's gone. Like it never even existed - if it wasn't for the black, tar-like blood still dripping from Gareth's sword.

The blade has turned reddish and dull, as if it's been exposed to the wind and rain for years and years. A heavy, smell settles in the air, like rust and decay. While Gareth is still watching, wide-eyed and horrified, the blade crumples in on itself, until all that's left in his hand is the hilt. The monster snarls again, its face twisting into something that looks like a horrible, gloating grin. And then that grin splits open and it pounces.

[the-uncharted-cookbook]

Descendant

Demerara rum, pisco, cachaça, pineapple juice, lemon juice, lime juice, honey syrup, grenadine, and a dash of bitters

"No, they weren't zombies. They were people, or they used to be."

Nathan Drake pulled out his journal and flipped to a page labeled Scare O' Meter. He turned it to me and pointed to a drawing right between a "demon sasquatch" and Sully's mustache: a crudely sketched rendition of a terrifying creature hunched over and baring sharp teeth, aptly labeled "slippery naked guy."

He explained that the legendary El Dorado wasn't a city of gold at all, it was a golden sarcophagus. Whoever was buried inside had some kind of viral infection that changed people, mutated them into terrible, rage-filled monsters. This mummy was worshipped for its great "power" and sealed in gold inside a place of reverence. Spanish conquistadors found El Dorado in the heart of the Amazon in the 16th century and stole it away, bringing it halfway across the Pacific Ocean to an uncharted island as far away from civilization as possible. They paid greatly for their theft. The sarcophagus was opened and the Spaniards were infected, mutating into creatures no longer human. Over the past 400 years, with each new generation born, the descendants of those Spaniards devolved further away from humanity.

A shudder ran through me as Nate finished his tale. El Dorado is at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean now, hopefully lost forever. But the descendants... they're still out there, somewhere.

Naturally, the Descendant is a riff on the infamous and dangerously delicious Zombie cocktail. The Zombie was invented by Donn Beach in 1934 and was an immediate sensation, jumpstarting the tiki craze of the 1930s. Its original recipe was a closely guarded secret until relatively recently which forced imitators to improvise, often to disastrous results. The Descendant is based primarily on the midcentury Zombie recipe written by Donn for Louis Spievak's 1950 book Barbecue Chef. Three different South American spirits are used in the Descendant to showcase El Dorado's Amazonian roots: Demerara rum from Guyana, pisco from Peru, and cachaça from Brazil.

DESCENDANT

1 oz. aged Demerara rum (El Dorado 12) 1 oz. Peruvian pisco (Barsol) 1 oz. cachaça (Novo Fogo) 1 oz. pineapple juice 1 oz. lemon juice 1 oz. lime juice 0.5 oz. honey syrup 0.25 oz. grenadine 1 dash Angostura bitters Combine all ingredients in a cocktail shaker with pebble ice or crushed ice. Shake and dump directly into a Zombie or chimney glass. Garnish with fresh mint, slapped to express the oils.

As always, the types of spirits you use are important for the flavor profile of the cocktail. For the aged Demerara rum, I use El Dorado aged 12 years but Pusser's British Navy Rum, Hamilton 86, or other aged El Dorado rums will serve just as well.

A Peruvian pisco is preferred over a Chilean one. Each country has specific requirements for pisco production and distillation. Chilean piscos are often distilled multiple times and then watered down to proof while Peruvian piscos are bottled directly from the still. This means Peruvian piscos often have more depth and flavor than their Chilean counterparts. However, if you find the flavor of Peruvian pisco too potent, a Chilean pisco may suit your taste better. If you'd like other uses for pisco, I recommend a pisco sour.

For cachaça, my number one recommendation is the fantastic brand Novo Fogo. Their Silver cachaça is what I use and is the easiest to get your hands on, but I wouldn't hesitate to try the Chameleon or Barrel-Aged expressions if you can find them. Not only does Novo Fogo make delicious spirits, but they operate the Un-endangered Forest Project and are dedicated to rehabilitating the Atlantic Forest in Brazil, which has been decimated by deforestation.

As mentioned previously, store bought grenadine will be much more syrupy and sweet than making your own, so homemade is recommended. It's a fast and easy process and all you need is pomegranate juice and sugar (although pomegranate molasses and orange blossom water help provide more depth and texture). If you do use store bought grenadine, adjust the amount of honey syrup you use to balance out the sweetness.

The Descendant uses honey syrup and grenadine in place of the Demerara syrup and passionfruit syrup (or fassionola) used in the midcentury Zombie recipe. I chose these ingredients for the Descendant because they taste great, they can be found in other recipes in the Uncharted Cookbook, and they're more readily available and easily made. However, if you have Demerara syrup or fassionola on hand, feel free to swap those in instead and see which you prefer.

The recipes for honey syrup and grenadine can be found here.

[jaemified]

I COULD NEVER LIE TO YOU.

“maybe i finally understood why you were the way you were. or maybe you just never tried to understand me.”

☆ pairing ; toxic bf lee chan x fem reader

☆ genre ; hurt, ANGST, no comfort, toxic relationship, y/n vents but she has no one, slightly suggestive content

☆ warnings ; swearing, drinking, implied substance abuse, mentions of cheating and sex, y/ns insecure af (and only cz he made her that way), chans a gaslight and manipulator but also very possessive !!

☆ wordcount ; 0.9k

☆ synopsis ; youve been struggling with a toxic relationship for years now, but you had no one to tell that to, or anyone thatd believe you at least. so while your boyfriend slips out for the night to god knows where, you use this time to write down and express everything youve bottled up all this time.

☆ kona speaks ! - i think its funny how i always start with swearing in cw when its not anywhere near the worst thing in the story LMAOAOAOA anyway sorry i havent uploaded in FOREVER.. college is so hard (+i love my new format! all my drafts from the past 2 months are written like this:))

!disclaimer!, this is a pure work of fiction and is not in any way related to chan and his personality! purely for entertainment purposes only, and for me to express some thoughts :)

READ BELOW THE CUT

OCTOBER 31, 2023

you had left me on my own yet again. its not like i had any true friends left to be with anyway, after you scared them all off, that is.

who knows where you couldve gone.

no, the real you.

my sweet, sweet channie i fell in love with all those years ago.

where could you have gone?

maybe i wasnt good enough, maybe i wasnt pretty enough.

or maybe you werent understanding enough.

i always thought it was me, but maybe it was you all this time.

i like to think back at when we were last happy, god. that mustve been ages ago, just about.

it was.. my 16th birthday?

-my 16th birthday-

it was.. the day we had to put my dog down. my puppy since i was young. i remember it all clearly now.

i was..

-i was..-

we, we were 17.

mmm, my dog was probably my best friend. the realest one in a while.

i remember how you were there for me, even took me to my favorite donut shop to distract me while you tried so hard to make me laugh.

it worked.

i wish you were still you when we were young.

my sweet channie.

where could you have gone?

i could care less about your whereabouts.

i could care less about how you told me i was lying and that you knew i loved you whenever i tried expressing how i felt about us now.

but maybe i just want to be loved again.

maybe i just want to feel something again.

and i know it cant be with you.

i remember the last time you brought me out we were at mingyus halloween party last year.

nobody could find you, so i went to look for you myself.

i noticed your location was still shared with me, and not any of your friends.

so i tracked you to our car.

-our-

i tracked you to your car.

(since nothing that was yours was mine anyway)

and there you were.

fucking some random girl in the backseat.

that was the last day i saw any of my friends.

you never let me out again.

“you cant go, youll just be in my way.” you said before you left for soonyoungs christmas party.

“you cant go, i cant bare to see you hurt again.” you told me before i was about to leave to my own birthday party planned by my friends.

“you cant go, youll just play victim in front of all my friends and cry about how i fucked another girl.” you told me before you left a few hours ago.

i never know with you. but, i know deep down you care.

somewhere.

its always how y/n cant go here, y/n cant do this. or, shes too busy, we have something planned, shes not home.

even in the way you always spoke over me i knew you were just trying to speak for me.

but what about you?

why cant i have a say in anything you do? why do i get everything taken from me? why did you scare off all my friends and even make your friends hate me too?

you always came home high or on something whenever a different girl each time, dropped you off after you came back from a different party.

i never missed the way theyd look at me.

as if you said something about me.

because you know i never forget the look on someones face

it wasnt till later when i found out from wonwoo that everything you did to me, you told those girls thats what i did to you.

i learned to be quiet though.

i learned to sit there and smile, and just take it.

there was nothing i could do though, theres nothing that couldve changed your actions.

i mean, i cant control you.

so why can you control me?

the channie i knew from when we were 20 wouldve consoled me and been there for me.

the channie i knew from when we were 15 wouldve just laughed about how mr seo accidentally buzzed his head in the boys locker room.

the channie i knew from when we first met in grade school wouldnt even have thought about doing half the things you do now.

so where did we go wrong?

i still think about that.

was it, when we hit puberty?

was it, when we moved out?

was it, when we graduated?

our first date?

the day i found out you cheated?

y/n scoffed as she looked at the giant brown teddy bear in the corner of the room that chan had won for her on their first date.

she let out an annoyed sigh, thinking back, looking back at whatever point in time that couldve even reflected a glimpse of this change in him.

it was too subtle, but too sudden, for her to even remember.

she took a sip of her ginger ale before picking up her pen and scribbling some more in her diary that only she had the key to.

who knows what he’d do if he saw all the things she said about him.

you really werent much help.

nevertheless, i still love you.

i really fucking love you.

i know you do too.

i know a part of you inside still cares for me.

i could even cry thinking about it.

yeah, i realize i dont get out much.

but you never hurt me.

physically, at least.

the emotional damage is beyond repair though.

but i know theres still a bit of the you from our youth left.

i see it in the way you look at me.

no matter how mad,

how upset,

how happy,

how sad you were,

whether you were high,

whether you were drunk,

even when we were younger too.

you always looked at me the same.

that softened gaze and warm eyes.

the eyes never change. the eyes dont lie.

i mean, you could deny it (which id only laugh if you tried), but your eyes tell.

maybe thats why im still holding on.

maybe im just waiting for the boy i first fell in love with to randomly come back.

the chances are slim.

but i still hope.

im holding on.

by a thread, at least.

not like you’d let me leave anyway.

i could say how theres still love left within us

probably, somewhere

but when was the last time we were genuinely happy?

what do you get out of this?

because it isnt happiness. it cant be. you wouldnt be here if you were.

we’re both miserable. i see it and feel it.

it’s like, im just here for you.

i can understand the pressure though.

everyone would ask “how did you make it through college?” “how did you make it through high school?”

they dont understand though. you kinda made me

-you kinda made me-

they dont understand though.

i mean,

maybe i finally understood why you were the way you were

or maybe you just never tried to understand me.

i could tell you all of these things.

but i couldnt.

because i could never ‘lie’ to you.

[dirtytransmasc]

I imagine that after Tonowari and Ronal adopt Spider, they would ask them to bring their things from the human base. And in a moment where the children are outside, Ronal is unpacking his things and finds a tablet, and when he touches it, a video of Spider talking starts, that day was his 16th birthday and the boys played with him for a while But nothing more. Maybe Tuk gives him a nice stone for his song cord, without understanding that he doesn't have it. and while the video continues, he talks about how there is only one more birthday left to join Eywa. he will took his own life,at 18 years old. Ronal's reaction, the moment he tells Tonowari and his children how they would react, and how they would face this information

he meant to move the log, somewhere no one else would see it, not with ease at least. but he didn't get a chance, after his birthday the RDA happened, then going back with the sully's happened, then getting adopted happened. he'd forgotten about the whole thing by the time his stuff was dragged out of high camp and left in crates in his new home.

he knew something was wrong the moment he heard his mother's tone as she called him back to the pod, she looked pale and distraught, tears in her eyes.

"what is this, my child, why? why would you want to do this to yourself?" she's holding his tablet... the tablet, spider's diary, the one with his logs on it. "I never meant to find it spider, that I promise you, it just... I picked it up and it opened to a video and I watched... why were... why were you planning to end your life my sweet child?"

she had already put the tablet down, favoring her son to be in her arms, she feels like if she lets him go, she'll lose him forever. the very thought that he could ever, and still very may want to end his own life, is gutting her.

"it's... it was something, but its not anymore, I promise." he speaks so softly, but so desperately. "I... I don't want to anymore, I promise mama, I promise... I'm sorry." there was that telltale sign, of what it depends on the exact scenario, but that's when ronal knows there's something wrong, what child would apologize for their own pain, a pain so bad it would drive them to this.

"my son," she wants to scream, this wasn't right. she pulls him to sit on the family pallet together. "can you explain it to me sweetheart? I just want to... understand so you never feel like this again."

he looked at her with big teary eyes, hand stroking back his braids. he nods, taking a deep breath (it felt like there was no air), scootching closer to her.

"they... they wanted to send me back, to earth, when I turned 18 I could go through space travel, and I just... I couldn't go back, I couldn't leave eywa, I couldn't leave everything I knew, I couldn't leave here, home... so, so I was going to be with Eywa instead of going back there. I would have died there anyway, earth was dying, I'd rather be here with The Great Mother than there all alone." he eased into his mom, letting her hold him as he was ravaged by the same thoughts of fear he had back then. he remembered being so scared, so entirely hopeless that there was no way out but dying, that he planned his suicide for years. "I don't wanna go anymore, I promise mama, I wanna stay here with you and dad and ao'nung and tsireya. I would never leave you,"

there was a long pause, only filled by the sounds of a mother and son sniffling as they clung to each other.

"I didn't want to die, I just couldn't go back. I was so scared mama, every day was one day closer to the day I either had to get shipped off to a world that may not even exist by the time I got there or... or I went with Eywa. I was scared..." he sounded so broken, so desperate. she believed him with her whole heart, and that hurt worse then she could ever imagine. believing your son no longer wish's harm on himself should be a relief, but knowing he never wanted to, to begin with and he was still driven to it, made her feel so much worse.

"oh my child, I'm so so sorry, I will never, ever, let them send you away, you're staying her with me and our family, our people. promise me you will never, no matter what happens, ever decided that this is your only option; you talk to me or dad, or ao'nung and tsireya, you talk to someone."

"yes mama, I promise."

"good, now... your father must know of this, its wrong to keep it from him, ao'nung and tsireya as well. you don't have to say much, I can explain everything, but they need to know little one."

"I know..." he paused, swallowing hard, "I just don't want them to worry, they already worry so much because of me, and I know that's what family does... I just hate feeling like I'm fragile."

"I know, I know you and I know the feeling, I will explain that as well, we'll talk over dinner ok... for now, let us unpack your things... I need you close." she was no longer quiet when it came to loving spider, she made it clear that she needed him, in the way a child is like a mothers breath.

he smiled, taking a deep breath so he could wipe his eyes, struggling not to laugh as his mother bombarded him with kisses for the few seconds she had the opportunity.

~~~

that night went as smoothly as one could hope for. ronal kept to her promise, pulling tonowari aside before dinner to explain to him what she had found and what spider had said.

tonowari was heartbroken just as she had been, knowing his son had felt so much pain for years and no one noticed, not one helped him. it took all of his strength to not pull his son from his siblings and smother him in affection. he had an icy fear spread throughout him, spider was turning 18 at the turn of the season, and while trusted his son and his mates judgment, that 'what if?' lingered in the back of his mind a ragged wound. he could not lose a son, not ever, but especially not now, not during the peace times.

over dinner both parents sat close to the boy, the conversation coming up when spider gave them both the queue that he was prepared.

he knew that they needed to talk about it, he wanted to talk about it, he was tired of being alone in his own head, but it was a hard subject to just... bring up.

it wasn't said directly, it was said as more of a warning of sorts; spider had issues in the past, and that they needed to be aware so that way he didn't have to be alone again.

when his siblings ask questions he comes clean, not what his parents had not intended on him doing that at all.

"I wanted to go with eywa when the scientists from hellsgate wanted to send me back to earth... mama found one of my logs where I talked about my... plan... and now we're talking about this"

then he has to swear a million times over that he would never harm himself ever again, that he would always come to them. he lets his brother hold onto him for the rest of the night, he goes on a walk with tsireya in the morning, he spends the night huddled in his families arms.

but its ok, because he's not alone anymore.

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Machiko Kyō (Rashomon, Floating Weeds, Older Brother Younger Sister)— Considered an early sex symbol in Japanese cinema. Also just an ethereal beauty who can also go feral/unhinged in a glorious way.

Judy Garland (Meet Me In St. Louis, A Star is Born, Summer Stock)— Judy is the GOAT when it comes to classic movie musicals. The voice of an angel who deserved so much better than she got. She can sing she can dance she can act she's a triple threat. Though she had a turbulent personal life (her treatment as a child star by the studio system makes me mad as hell like Louis b Mayer fight me ((she was made to believe that she was physically unattractive by the constant criticism of film executives who made her feel ugly and who manipulated her onscreen appearance by capping her teeth and using discs in her nose to change its shape and Mayer called her "my little hunchback" like imagine hearing that as a child and not having damage)) she always goddamn delivered on screen and in any performance she gave. She began in vaudeville performing with her sisters and was signed to MGM at 13. Starting out in supporting parts especially paired with mickey Rooney in a bunch of films (she's the best part tbh) she eventually transferred to the lead role. She is best known for her starring role in movie musicals like the iconic Wizard of Oz (somewhere over the rainbow still hits hard and is ranked the top film song of all time), meet me in St. Louis (Judy singing have your self a merry little Christmas brings tears to the eyes she is that powerful), the Harvey girls (she looks like a technicolor dream and sings a catchy af song about trains), Easter parade ( dancing and singing with Fred Astaire), for me and my gal, the pirate, and summer stock ( with pal Gene Kelly who she helped when he was starting out and he helped her when she was struggling). But she also does non- singing just as well like the clock ( her first movie where she sings no songs and is an underrated ww2 era romance), her Oscar nominated a star is born ( like the man that got away she put her whole soul in that and I have beef with the fact she lost to grace kelly ((whom I love but like still not even her best work)), and judgement at Nuremberg (a courtroom drama about the nazi war criminal trials). Outside of film she made concert appearances to record-breaking audiences, released 8 studio albums, and had her own Emmy-nominated tv series. She was the youngest (39) and first female recipient of the Cecil B DeMille award for lifetime achievement in the film industry. Girl was a lifelong democrat and was a financial and moral supporter of many causes including the civil rights movement (she was at the March on Washington and held a press conference to protest the 16th street Baptist church bombings). She was a friend of the Kennedy family and would call jfk weekly often ending the calls by singing the first few lines of somewhere over the rainbow (she thought of them as Gemini twins).She was a member of the committee for the first amendment which was formed in response to the HUAC investigations. Though she died far too young and tragically she remains an icon for her work and her life. As a girl who didn't feel like i was as pretty as everyone else I have always felt a connection to Judy and I just really love her.

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Machiko Kyō:

Judy:

Judy's voice alone qualifies her for at least top ten hottest HOT VINTAGE MOVIE WOMEN. She was a truly incredible swing singer, with a stunning voice on top of her technique. Her short dark hair looked incredible in just about any style. Have I mentioned her swagger? I can’t do it justice with words. She had swagger. She was funny as hell, and clever too. Incredibly charming and cool. I adore her.

Her eyes, her voice have bewitched me

I mean how can you beat the one and only Judy? She's beautiful, her smile is contagious, the way she sings with her whole body. You can't help but love her.

Beautiful woman, love her singing voice. And she can do everything between happy or silly and angry or heartbroken

[christmascheeseballs]

Till Death Do Us Part  – An Arthur Morgan x OC Story *PART TWO*

Content Warnings – Kidnapping, Death Threats, Micah Bell, Trauma, Angst, Character Deaths, Eventual Happy Ending (not in this part), Reference to torture, reference to sexual assault, not described, one brief mention of both

Word Count – 1.7k

Part One - 1.3k words (17th July 2024)

Part Two - 1.7k words (17th July 2024)

Part Three - 1.2k words (19th July 2024)

Authors Note – I’m so sorry for the confusion of Bonnie the horse and Bonnie MacFarlane in this – my horse irl is a Belgian draft, and I thought it would be cute to put her in this but it just ended up confusing lmao

-x-

7 years later

February 16th, 1907

I found this old journal today while looking through my Arthur’s things. Me and Bea moved into our new home about 6 months ago now, and I finally had the chance to sit and go through all of our old belongings. I found Arthur’s journal, and after spending a few days crying over his sweet notes, all his loving words about me etched delicately with his careful script, I decided to start sharing my own thoughts. Share my problems to someone other than Bea or Bonnie. 

We now live on a ranch, west of Blackwater. God it feels strange to be back in this area again. After leaving Abigail and the others in Oregon all those years ago (I miss them all so much), myself and Darcy, my sweet girl, headed across the country to find somewhere safe to have my baby. We settled in North California, just on the border. While the busier state was helpful for delivering my baby, my country soul could not cope and we soon continued south. Hopping from place to place, we have finally found a home. Its been a lonely few years, and I haven’t seen Abigail or any of the others since those fateful days. As far as John and the others know, I either ran away or died out on the trails. It breaks my heart to break theirs, but needs must.

As I said, we now live on a ranch west of Blackwater - MacFarlane’s Ranch. While Bea is cared for my some of the local ladies, who enjoy teaching her to read and write, I spend my days in the corral, training the horses that the owners of the ranch bring in. I can still remember the days when my Arthur first taught me to ride, all those years ago. And now here I am, teaching horses how to take care of their riders, teaching young fillies and colts all the groundwork to set them up for life. I’m quite a horsewoman nowadays!

Speaking of horses; my sweet Darcy was retired 2 years ago now, and I have managed to organise for her to have her own paddock on the ranch to live out her days. I know that retiring a horse ain’t all that common round here, but Miss MacFarlane seemed to have a soft spot for my sweet mare. My heart genuinely aches when I bring her in from her paddock to check her over, and my sweet Bea runs over to see her, clamouring to ride. I allow her to sit on her while I walk back to the field, but that is all. She has the passion for horses that her daddy had, and that I’ve tried to continue for him.

My new horse is a stunning and versatile red roan Belgian Draft mare named Bonnie - I purchased her from a fellow in Montana at the same time as retiring Darcy, so I can promise that her having the same name as Miss MacFarlane is pure coincidence! Bonnie (the horse, that is) is such a perfect mare for my little family - she can drive us to the local town with the wagon, and also allow me to use her to ride, and even teach Bea to ride! I thought I’d struggle finding a horse as perfect as Darcy, but Bonnie sure ain’t that far off. Although, have a horse as stocky as a draft horse after years of riding a fine thoroughbred is definitely a difference!

I truly hope we can find happiness here. 

Florence Morgan

-x-

On the 25th May, 1900, Beatrice Abigail Morgan was born in the state of California, to Mrs Florence Morgan. And now, at nearly 7 years old, the two of you had settled down into the ranching lifestyle, with Bea finally given the chance to go to a proper school and learn to read and write.

Whilst life hadn’t been kind to the either of you over the past few years, you truly felt you’d found a place you could finally settle in. MacFarlane’s Ranch was a simple but efficient farm, with a well established cattle and equine business. While the men handled the cattle, a position had opened up in the training and husbandry of the horses; when you saw the role in the papers, you had nearly screamed. Especially when you saw the gleaming words “house available for successful applicant”. It was practically made for you. 

Now, your days consisted of waking up early; avoiding waking up Bea; feeding all the horses in the stables; sneaking back home; giving Bea her breakfast and sending her off to school with Mrs Nelson across the road; backing, exercising, and being thrown off countless different horses; ideally selling a couple to clients; before collecting Bea and preparing dinner before bed. 

A simple enough life, but busy enough to keep your mind free from the ghosts of your past. 

Free until nightfall, that is. That is when your mind filled with panic, dread, and guilt. Guilt for your husband, being left alone all those years ago to die to the hands of Micah Bell. You never got to visit his grave - as far as you know, he never got one. Dread and panic at the sickening gut feeling you had in the base of your stomach that something would happen; and soon. Years of running and fighting finally catching up with you.

-x-

You were used to waking up in a cold sweat, but tonight was different, your fears felt more daunting, more real – you awoke, gasping from the night terrors that plagued you, trying to steady your breathes and keep Bea asleep, her small body in the room next to yours. As your panicked gasps subsided, you swung your legs out of your cot, a daunting weight sitting heavily on your shoulders. As your eyes adjust to the darkness in your room, you glance at the clock. Despite feeling like you had been trying to fall into a sleep for hours, it was barely 1am.

A deep sigh left you as you stood, taking yourself into your small kitchen to pour yourself a mug of water. Standing at the window, you glance outside towards the corral, a small smile etching itself onto your face when you spot Bonnie led down, fast asleep. You envied her.

Looking past the corral, you spotted a group of pale, flickering lights – lanterns, you thought – moving swiftly towards the ranch. This wouldn’t be the first time bandits attacked the ranch, and would likely not be the last. You sigh, this must've been the gut feeling you had minutes before. Before the lights could get any closer, you grabbed your coat, covering your chemise, and shoved your feet into your boots. You picked up your Lancaster Repeater, the one Arthur used and lovingly cared for until passing it onto you, and dashed towards the MacFarlane’s farm house.

Hammering on the door, adrenaline rushed through your veins as you waited for the family to wake up. A shadowed figure appeared in the doorway of the farm house. “Florence? What’s goi-”, she stopped, realisation spreading across her face as she spotted the threat approaching the ranch. She grasped her rifle by the door, a serious expression setting in her face.

A fight was on your hands

-x-

The attackers had shocked you, at first. Whilst there were various casualties, they had not come in guns blazing, seemingly searching for something rather than being out for the kill. Their masked faces surveyed the area, before one man – which hauntingly familiar eyes - stopped on your figure, hidden slightly behind a cart in front of the corral. He stopped, and stared, before nodding at something behind you.

Next thing you knew, a pair of greasy hands wrapped themselves around you, one of them covering your mouth, the stench filling your nostrils, the other bringing a knife to your throat. Bonnie gave you a panic stricken look, her eyes darting over to your homestead. Big mistake. The man holding you spotted this look, and chucked – a sneer that you’d never thought you’d have the displeasure of hearing again.

“Go get her brat, Dutch.”

2 months later

As if life hadn’t been hard on you already for as long as you could remember, the past few weeks were just the cherry on top. After being kidnapped by Micah Bell, you were beaten, tortured, and taken advantage of on an almost daily basis. Fed the bare minimum to survive. As much as your blood boiled with anger when you saw the face of Dutch Van Der Linde, you had to thank him. He was able to keep Micah and his men away from Bea, a soft look appearing in his eyes whenever he laid eyes on her.

Although you hoped that you could sense the guilt when he glanced at you, he couldn’t bring himself to keep them away from you as well.

When you first realised it was Dutch seemingly orchestrating the attack on MacFarlane’s Ranch, you saw red – but could do nothing about it. Micah pressed the blade closer to the skin of your neck, breaking through the first few layers as you hissed in pain under his hand. Dutch turned towards your house, coming back out minutes later with a trembling Beatrice Morgan. But he looked pained.

Now, after being captured and tortured for the past few months, you knew that Dutch was as trapped as you were. Whilst you held no true sympathy for him, you knew that he did not take a part of your capture willingly.

As the days went on, you slowly begun shutting down, loosing any hope of rescue. You knew that Bonnie and her father, the sweet family that they were, would’ve tried to find you at first, but you also knew it was a helpless task. After taking you from the ranch, the group had travelled west, settling in western Texas for a few weeks. They had then moved east again, back towards New Hanover – but for some unknown reason decided to settle in the mountains of Ambarino.

Heavy snow and biting cold plagued you every day, as you clutched onto Bea, giving her the scraps of any food you were scarcely given, trying to have her eat as much as she could. Even Dutch sneaked her a few thinning blankets on one particularly frigid night. You were at a true loss of what could be done. Until one fateful morning, a gravely, and scarily familiar voice rang out from the mountains outside.

“Micah, if you’re in here, come out”

-x-

Thanks for reading, please like, comment and reblog <3

[polyamships]

Polyamships is hosting #MultiamoryMarch2023 💞

We’re happy to reblog any polyam creations for the month of March from any fandom or from original works. You can use the above prompts if you need a little inspiration, or you can create something in general for a polyamorous ship of any kind. We also have plenty of prompts from past years we’d still love to see fanworks for if they inspire you better. If you use a prompt, please make sure to let us know which prompt you're creating for somewhere on your post.

At us @polyamships and use the tags #MultiamoryMarch and #MultiamoryMarch2023 in the first five tags so we can hopefully see it. If you don’t see us reblog your post within a few days feel free to send us an ask to let us know, or submit it via our googleform here, in case we’ve missed your post or the tags/notifications are being weird.

All ratings are welcome but anything nsfw/triggery should be warned for and behind a read more, as should very long tumblr fic.

We also have an AO3 collection for the event that can be found here and the collection name is 'multiamory_march_works'.

We can’t wait to see what you create for the month, and please do spread the word about the event. ❤️♾️ QPR on the graphic is the abbreviation for Queerplatonic Relationship. And Sedoretu is a poly marriage invented by Ursula K. Le Guin in her science fiction story "A Fisherman of the Inland Sea," which you can find more out about over on its Fanlore page. All the prompts can also be found as text below the read more. Over the next month or two, we will also be doing a number of posts with expanded ideas for each prompt for anyone who needs a little more inspiration than just the one or two word style we have below.

March 1st - V relationship

March 2nd - Supernatural

March 3rd - Games

March 4th - Affection

March 5th - Awakening

March 6th - Pets

March 7th - Language

March 8th - Sick

March 9th - Declarations

March 10th - Convenience

March 11th - Wedding

March 12th - Cuddling

March 13th - Sharing clothes

March 14th - Sedoretu

March 15th - Adoption

March 16th - Sleepover

March 17th - QPR (QueerPlatonic Relationship)

March 18th - Together

March 19th - Art

March 20th - Grief

March 21st - Treasure

March 22nd -Bonding

March 23rd - Forest

March 24th - Apart

March 25th - Unlikely

March 26th - Argument

March 27th - Shadow

March 28th - Teasing

March 29th - Mark

March 30th - Pining

March 31st - Polyam is the norm AU

[sleeplesssmoll]

Vertin's Bookshelf (Real Life References)

I'm only including real world references in this post. Some were too blurry for me to see so I only included the ones I can confirm. I tried to find pics of the original cover art too. Anything indented was copied from somewhere and I included all sources. I only did the searching and squinting!

VICTORIAN LONDON STREET LIFE in Historic Photographs

These rare historical photographs were taken from 1873 to 1877 and are part of Street Life in London, a book that was one of the first examples of social documentary photography. The authors, photographer John Thomson and journalist Adolphe Smith, aimed to reveal by the innovative use of photography and essays the conditions of a life of poverty in London. (source)

Die Verwandlung ( The Metamorphosis) by Frankz Kafa

(Note: Seems like Vertin has this book in its original German instead of translated into English)

Metamorphosis (German: Die Verwandlung) is a novella written by Franz Kafka and first published in 1915. One of Kafka's best-known works, Metamorphosis tells the story of salesman Gregor Samsa, who wakes one morning to find himself inexplicably transformed into a huge insect (German: ungeheueres Ungeziefer, lit. "monstrous vermin") and subsequently struggles to adjust to this new condition. The novella has been widely discussed among literary critics, who have offered varied interpretations. (source)

CURRUS TRIUMPHALIS ANTIMONIO (Triumphant Chariot of Antimony) : alchemy book published in 1646

From what I've gathered its focused on ancient medicine and hermetic philosophy? It's pretty old and the information around it is sparse. However, the supposed author has an interesting story:

Basil Valentine is the Anglicized version of the name Basilius Valentinus, ostensibly a 15th-century alchemist, possibly Canon of the Benedictine Priory of Saint Peter in Erfurt, Germany but more likely a pseudonym used by one or several 16th-century German authors. According to John Maxson Stillman, who wrote on the history of chemistry, there is no evidence of such a name on the rolls in Germany or Rome and no mention of this name before 1600. His putative history, like his imaginary portrait, appears to be of later creation than the writings themselves. Whoever he was, Basil Valentine had considerable knowledge of chemistry. He demonstrated that ammonia could be obtained by the action of alkali on sal-ammoniac (ammonium chloride), described the production of hydrochloric acid by acidifying brine of common salt (sodium chloride), and created ethyl chloride and oil of vitriol (sulfuric acid), among other achievements. (source)

There's a Beethoven vinyl record that I can't make out but it has the word "violoncello" in it? I tried sharpening it but still can't figure out the rest. I couldn't find the art either.

The last one is another Vinyl Record: Johann Sebastian Bach, Enrico Mainardi – Suiten Für Violoncello Solo Nr.1-6. I tried to find the closing looking image to the one used in the game. The record I found was actually remastered in Japan (2016) but its very close!