#mai for half of these: why is steel not an option

[thealtoduck]

Sweet Juice

Clark Kent x Male Reader

Content: Greek Mythology AU

Warnings: Smut, Bottom!Reader, Top!Clark, semi-public sex, anal sex, unprotected sex, drunken sex, skinny dipping, spit as lube, missionary position…

Summary: You’re a member of Dionysus following and during a feast you meet a demigod son of Zeus, Clark, also known as the man of steel…

——

You were a lesser deity in a world filled with powerful gods, monsters and heroes. You were the son of the now famous naiad, Daphne. Unfortunately though your mother was no longer with you as she had been turned in to a laurel tree as a form of mercy.

It was considered mercy because the only other option she had was to be violated by Apollo, who was under the spell of Eros after an argument between the two. Apollo feeling bad about the whole ordeal apologised by finding you a place in the retinue of Dionysus and Ariadne.

You didn’t mind this as your duties were pretty much drink, dance, fuck, drink more and generally just to have a good time. It was just constant partying and celebration.

One night when the party had yet to start a visitor came for Dionysus. You were sat close to the god’s throne, you were petting one of his pet leopards when a strange man appeared and entered the god’s camp. He walked slowly towards the olympian. You noted his handsome appearance as he stopped in front of Dionysus.

”Lord Dionysus, you sent for me” the man said in a deep tone. ”I did” Dionysus confirmed before standing up saying loudly ”Everyone! Let me introduce to you to Clark, you may know him as the man of steel!… And also one of my younger half brothers”.

Dionysus followers broke out in cheers for the hero, who seemed slightly confused by the big welcoming. ”I’ve called him here to save us all from the cyclops that has been attacking in the night” Dionysus declared and everyone once again cheered.

”What?! You never told me of any cyclops?!” Clark asked agitated. ”Actually I didn’t tell you anything but you showed up anyway” Dionysus teased him. ”Why don’t you save them yourself?” Clark questioned. However Dionysus only responded with a simple ”Where’s the fun in that?”.

Clark looked irretated at Dionysus and said ”I will not be tricked in to fighting someone else’s battle”. Making the on looking crowd let out disappointed murmurs. Dionysus walked up to the hero and put a hand on his shoulder.

”Come on Clark, do us this favour and we’ll give you the biggest celebration you’ll experince in a life time, with the finest wine and feast, our best music and dancers and if you want you can take to bed anyone you fancy, we don’t judge” Dionysus offered.

Clark took a moment looking around at the crowd surrounding him until his eyes landed on you for a swift moment. He then turned back to Dionysus and said ”Very well, i shall do you this favour”. Once again the crowd including you broke out in cheers and applause for the demigod.

The very next day gifted Clark with a sword, armour and food by Dionysus as he and his followers saw off the hero on his way to save them from the threat of the cyclops.

I didn’t take long for Clark to return as he was back at the camp by next day. He came back in the afternoon covered from head to toe in dirt, dust and a little cyclops blood. Throwing the red painted sword by Dionysus feet.

”Well done” Dionysus complimented looking at the blood drenched sword. Dionysus then turned towards you ”Y/n, take our hero somewhere he can wash off” he commanded. ”Yes, lord Dionysus” you said with a quick bow. He then turned back to Clark and said ”When you return, we feast”.

You went and collected a basket with a bottle of scented oil, a strigil (a tool they used in ancient greece to wash themselves) and a new chiton. ”This way, my lord” you said to Clark and started guiding him through the forest. ”Please, just Clark is fine” he said humbly following you.

You guided him to a secluded pond. ”Impressive, how did you find this place so quickly?” Clark complimented. ”My mother was a naiad, it’s an instinct” you explained putting down the basket next to the pond.

”Would you like me to bring you anything else?” you asked Clark as he started undressing out of the dented armour and dirty chiton. ”You’ve already done enough for me, thank you” he said gentlemanly. Clark was now naked, revealing his muscled body and impressive manhood, which you tried not to look at.

He stepped down in the pond, the water reaching up to his hips. ”Why don’t you join me?” he suggested gesturing towards the water. ”I’d love too, but i have to help the others prepare everything for tonight” you said. ”Come on, only for a short time” Clark tempted. ”Okay” you said with a smile, taking off your chiton and sandals.

Clark watched your naked form with interest as you stepped down in to the water. ”See, it’s nice” Clark said starting to wash himself off using the scented oil you brought for him. You tried not to stare at his oiled up chest but you were 90% sure he caught you looking but he didn’t say anything, he only smirked.

You relaxed in the cool water for a while until you remembered you needed to get back to the others. You climbed out of the pond and started putting on your clothing once again. ”Thanks for the company, hope i’ll see you tonight” Clark said. ”Hope, i’ll see you too” you said and started walking through the forest back towards camp.

That night the music rang loudly through the forest as you celebrated the death of cyclops and your new hero, Clark. You drank and danced wildly with your friends. Some others were already passed out from drinking, some were gambling and playing games and one couple were fucking against a tree.

You saw Clark sitting on a pillow next to Dionysus talking, goblet in hand. You made your way over to the olympian and the demigod. ”Y/n” Dionysus exclaimed happily as he noted your presence. He patted a pillow next to him saying ”Come sit down”.

You took the offer sitting down next to the god, he made your empty goblet instantly refill and put an arm around you. ”I was just telling Clark of my inner circle” Dionysus revealed and continued ”Y/n, here you’ve met, he is my and Ariandne’s favourite attendant and friend” he said sweetly.

”Also he has a body as if sculpted by Pygmalion, carved and smoothed to absolute perfection. You should hope to have a look upon it someday” Dionysus said taking another sip from his goblet.

”Actually i already have” Clark stated boldly making Dionysus spill some wine on himself. ”Y/n, joined me for a swim in the pond” Clark explained making your cheeks heat up slightly. ”Is that so?” Dionysus questioned looking towards you.

”Well, i’ve got to go find Ariadne” Dionysus said getting up leaving you and Clark. ”Are you and Dionysus-?” Clark started but you cut him off saying ”No, he and Ariadne just have a very open relationship”. ”How has your night been?” you then questioned the hero.

”Enjoyable but i’ve never been much of a party person” he said then taking a sip from his cup. ”I get it, before i came here i wasn’t either” you told him and then got an idea. ”Wanna go for a walk for some peace and quiet?” you asked. ”Sure, i’d love too” Clark said and the two of you stood up and walked off in to the forest behind you bringing your goblets with you.

You walked and talked for a while, drinking until your goblets were didn’t have a single drop left in them. Dionysus must’ve brought out the strong stuff because you and Clark were stumbling around and slurring your speech, you were laughing loudly at each others stories, sitting very close together.

Finally the two of you ended up behind some bushes close by to the party. You started to passionately make out, you laying on your back in the soft grass and Clark on top of you. Clark tore open your chiton and undressed you, leaving your naked form beneath him.

He then took off his own clothes revealing his muscular body and his hard cock. Clark took his hand and brought it to your mouth, you sucked on his fingers to get them wet, then he brought his moist fingers to your enterance and started pushing finger inside you.

You let out a small gasp as Clark started to finger you open, he added another fiinger and then another until you were ready to take him. Clark spit in to his hand and rubbed it over his erect manhood.

”It’s time i claim my reward” Clark said spreading your legs, he lined himself up with you and started pushing his hard cock in to your warmth. Clark loved the seeing the face you made as his cock slowly filled you up.

”Fuck your so big” you hissed as the demigod was fully sheated deep inside you. He then slowy started moving pushing himself in and out of you as a wave of pleasure started washing over you.

Your legs were wrapped around Clark as he thrusted in to you. ”I’m gonna fuck your little nymph hole full with my seed” Clark groaned in to your ear and placed kisses all along your neck. The demigod started speeding up his thrusts.

”Clark, fuck yeah! Take me” you said in ecstasy grabbing at his back as he fucked your hole. Both of your bodies had started gleaming from sweat as he mounted you under the moonlight, as his reward for defeating the cyclops.

Clark’s thrusts became rougher as he wanted to take you like a real demigod would, he loved how your walls clenched around his thick cock. He brutally fucked you with all the strength of his godly heritage to bring you to your release.

You let out breathy moans as Clark pounded your gaping hole, thrusting against your prostate. You felt yourself getting close to your orgasm. You dug your nails in to the grass below as Clark’s cock made you see Mount Olympus.

”Clark, i’m gonna cum” you said panting heavily making Clark thrust deeper as he wanted to push you over the edge. Then your cock started spraying cum all over your and Clark’s stomachs. Clark’s own release was getting close.

”I’m gonna plant my seed deep inside you” Clark moaned and his rough thrusts became uneven and sloppy. Clark delivered one last deep stroke in to you and he erupted inside you, he flooding your insides with his cum.

Both of you panted heavily and Clark rolled over and layed next to you in the grass. ”You were amazing” Clark praised while softly stroking your cheek. The two of you then used your torn clothes as blankets as you cuddled close together and you both fell asleep under the starry sky.

[sixteenth-days]

oh wow I loved the warden etho ficlet… “painting the walls” gosh that’s so vivid… mayhaps more of that? perhaps? maybe maybe?

(first ficlet is here! this one is set before the first one.)

"Hm," Doc says, stepping back. Etho can't tell what the expression on his face is- the world recedes into dimness beyond about a meter in front of his face. He focuses on the sound of Doc tapping his pencil against the clipboard he's holding, instead. The sound is harsh, irregular, stressed. "You are at about eighty-five percent vision loss."

"Huh," Etho says. Doc's workshop is twilight, all barely distinguishable shades of black and grey. "What're my odds of getting any of that back?"

"Not good," Doc says bluntly. "The infection progressed far enough while you were away that at this point I'd be worried about permanent nervous damage if we tried to surgically remove all of the skulk, especially given the other changes you've been experiencing. You said your hearing has improved?"

What he can hear from here: the faint buzzing of the redstone lamps set into the ceiling, the whisper of air across stainless-steel tables, the scrape of Doc's claws against the back of the clipboard he's holding, the rustle of the vision-test chart Doc had tacked to the wall, the distant whistle of fireworks as someone flies above the Perimeter.

"A little," Etho agrees, vaguely distracted.

Doc hums, and Etho finds himself tilting his head to follow the rumble of noise. "Your other option would be prosthetic eyes. I would get Iskall to help me, in that case. But I would still be concerned about the possibility of rejection, given the... overgrowth."

Etho nods. He's not actually entirely sure what the upper half of his face looks like at this point, for the obvious reasons, but from what he can tell, he can see why there would be potential complications.

"So," Doc says. "Those are the options."

"And if I don't do anything, I'm just gonna go entirely blind?"

"You may retain some light perception," Doc says. "Otherwise, most likely, yes."

"But nothing else, right?"

There's a pause. "What do you mean?" Doc asks.

"I mean, besides that, do I have a clean bill of health?" Etho clarifies.

Etho pictures Doc's eyebrows rising. "...Besides the progressing and near-total blindness? Yes."

Etho makes a noise of acknowledgement, slides down off the table he's been sitting on. "Okay, I think I've got this under control."

Doc sounds extremely doubtful. "Do you?"

"Ah, you know, I'll figure it out," Etho says. And he can start right now, by figuring out where the exit is.

[revisitingfandoms]

Idea Prompt 11- What lengths would a father not go for his child?

Soulmates.

An acursed word. An acursed happening and the damnation of yourself.

Soulmates.

A persons everything. They are forever crossed between souls and doomed to forever long for the other. To forever want and wish and dream-

Soulmates.

You cannot live without your soulmate, regardless of reason. To deny your soulmate is to deny yourself. To deny yourself is to die a slow and painful death.

Soulmates.

That words ponders in his head. He knew from the moment he held him, from the moment his boy was put into his arms.

Soulmates, your other half in everything, aren't romantic. Many can precive it that way, but in pratice, soulmates can be anyone.

(Your worst enemy, you family, your rival, a stranger on street who you just met, someone you will never meet, they will always be the person who can see through you- see and know everything about you, regardless of if you try to hide it.)

(There isn't any outright physical tell of who your soulmate was, no markings or outright explantions. You just know from one moment of touch.)

("This one is mine.")

(And only after that would that tiny marking appear, after beholding that realization. A marking that always appeared on top of a cookies heart.)

He knew from the moment Dark Choco cookie was placed into his arms that his son was his soulmate.

(Only one of his comrades has ever met their soulmate and that was hollyberry. The dragon curled upon her spoke it all.)

(The other three had yet to meet theirs.)

(It becomes aparent that his attempts to keep his son at distant lengths to protect him- keep people from making the connection that they were soulmates only drew to push his son away.)

(It made his boy desperate and with that dear desperation. Dark Cacao lost his son- his boy.)

(And silently it crushed him.)

(Until the years circled around- until his son, his Dark Choco came back- different, twisted and steaming with hurt and he cursed himself over and over again.)

(He had damned his boy.)

(And more then once those thoughts crept in.)

(Why didn't he stop dark Choco? Why didn't he keep his locked up in the citidal and safe and warm and protected like he should have done? Why did he care about what those under him thought? If Dark choco was their son- their soulmate, they would have done the same!)

(...His son stopped himself, he fought against that acursed sword for him- for his father.)

(He wouldn't let his son be taken- leave him again.)

He sighs as he stares out into the cold wasteland outside of the citidals borders. The First Watcher Caramel Arrow walks over to him, "My king, the prince is.." He can feel the confliction, the hestiance but she steels herself like any warrior of his kingdom.

Afterall, he had made that half maddened accounment shortly after Dark Choco had been brought in.

("He is my son! He is my Kindred one! If any one of you had to make that choice because of their citizens they would have just quieted the masses to keep them by their side!")

"...He is still adjusting my leige. The doctors speak of... of the things he suffered under the other cookies of darkness, notably Pomegranate Cookie."

He narrows his eyes, "And the search for them?" Caramel Arrow bows her head further, "We have yet to locate her, but we have found something known as the oven thats under their use. However it wouldbe several months long to reach there and the firepower needed would leave the kingdom extremly vulernable."

He grunts, not an option. He refuses to leave his son alone, (He was already left alone for far too long.). "The bait?" The first watcher shakes her head, "The young cookie we captured was named Poison Mushroom has yet to draw out the others. Yet we find signs that they may be plotting to get him back."

Dark Cacao nods in turn, "Keep your guard up First Watcher, You are dismissed." Caramel arrow nods her head as she leaves.

For his his son, he would do anything to keep him close.

For him, the world.

[thetragicallynerdy]

10, 20, 21, 23, 30, 39!

Hello buddy!! I'm so sorry it's taken me literally a month to get to these, but here we go!!

10) Top three favourite fic tropes.

Oooooh GREAT question. Hmmm they're all like whumpy XD

When someone shows up at someone else's door bloodied or sick and then passes out when they answer it

love confessions when they think the other person is dying

any enemies to lovers (bonus if it's enemies to fuck buddies but still enemies to lovers)

extras: hiding an injury/illness, and taking a wound for someone else :3

20) Do you work on a single project or many at the same time? How does that work for you?

I work on so many 🫠 (melting face emoji)

But honestly, a combo of both! I always have a massive list of WIPs (think: upwards of 30 at a time), because I start projects and then have difficulty finishing them. I typically have around 5 fics on rotation that I am actively working on at a time.

However, I do finish things best when I buckle down and like, dedicate a week or two or whatever to finishing a single thing. So typically when something is getting towards being done, that's what'll happen, and then I'll go back to slowly picking away at many things.

21) Can you accurately predict how long your fics are going to be? If you can, what's your secret?

Answered here! Short answer though: LMAO NOPE

23) Dialogue or description? Why is the other one so hard?

I love writing dialogue SO much more hahaha! Honestly part of description for me is that it takes a lot more cognitive work - especially if it's setting/space and place type stuff. I can picture and think about how bodies move in my head pretty easily, but I find it really hard to do with places!!!

Dialogue, on the other hand, just comes naturally (most of the time). I think I could 1000% write a fic that was entirely dialogue, I just won't because it's not what I find fun to read.

30) Describe a fic that almost happened, but then it didn't.

God. I mean I have many, many abandoned or half-abandoned fics - more for UnDeadwood than OFMD, but definitely in both. (Ranging from anywhere from a couple thousand words to one that is 90K and long abandoned [someday I'll give in and just publish shit as is])

A big one though was an UnDeadwood Watership Down AU - in which everyone (main 5 cast members, at least) were shifters, and Clayton's shifted form was a rabbit. It was Clayton POV, and laced with all sorts of the Watership Down rabbit religion etc. I think I had like 3-4K written for it.

Oh my god I also had a Ladyhawke AU??? For UnDeadwood?? That was devastating and very fun to write and never got finished - it also had somewhere around 5K written for it.

And that's not even considering the number of "hey omg this would be so fun" ideas - I love thinking about new fun wild AU's, and am very grateful for friends who listen and "yes and" me!!

39) Wildest AU scenario you have written?

Oh god that's a fun question.

UnDeadwood - I think it's a toss up between the jaws that bite, the claws that catch (snake creature Matthew, smutty Matty/Clayton(/Aly) in which Matthew has two dicks. That's it that's the fic. It is unfinished.)

The other UDW option is i found love where it wasn't supposed to be, written with @lovewithagirl, which features a whole lot of ghost sex (as in, sex between an alive person and a ghost)

I have a lot of different AU's for OFMD, but I think they feel a little more "normal" in comparison - they're more stuff like the Remington Steele AU or the Die Hard fic. The wildest is probably Ask Me Anything, written with @yerbamansa, which is a TealOranges Tumblr SMAU in which there is timey-wimey bullshit. Or maybe the Plumbing the Depths series, which is the Jim/Olu/literal kraken! Ed series, mainly for the rarepair.

Thanks so much for the ask, friend!! This was fun, and a nice lil distraction. And thanks for the patience as it took me so long to answer!!!

Writer Ask Game is here, for the curious - if you ask tho, be aware it may take me a while to get to it, life is making inbox answering more difficult these days <3

[untitledmemes]

Blue Eye Samurai Prompts

Part I An assortment of prompts taken from the series Blue Eye Samurai on Netflix. Adjust as necessary to fit pronoun and/or descriptor. Reblog, please do not repost or add.

“ Welcome, sir. I'll bring you some tea. ”

“ What are you? a dog? ”

“ Do you know who I am? ”

“ Must have important friends to own a gun like that. ”

“ Maybe I've been following you. ”

“ You put my bullet against your blade? ”

“ You dead-eyed, half blooded demon bastard! ”

“ My whole life I couldn't do anything right, but now I know what I'm supposed to do. ”

“ Please, let me be your apprentice. I'll do anything. ”

“ I'll do anything you ask, master. Anything so I can be just like you. ”

“ To a man lost in the dark, an ember can light the way. Thank you for my ember. ”

“ The heavens throw you a treasure. ”

“ You did not go. Have you somewhere to go? ”

“ Would be nice if someone kept proper time. ”

“ You look lost, lost boy. Come inside. ”

“ Most men grab first, ask prices later. ”

“ Have you ever been with a woman before? ”

“ You have a different duty, no? ”

“ Is that your price for me? ”

“ I forget you are a simple girl. ”

“ Have I defeated the undefeated? ”

“ I must deliver it personally. ”

“ Show your respect. ”

“ I came very far. I'm very hungry. ”

“ An impurity in the right place is quality. ”

“ It is a line. On one side of the line is life. The other, death. The edge we forge cuts the line between life and death. ”

“ Forgive me. I've kept from you a secret. ”

“ I know you're ugly. What is ugly to me? ”

“ A monster. A creature of shame. ”

“ They will all die by my hand. I vowed this. ”

“ A poor technique. Easily learned. Easily defeated. ”

“ Do I know you? ”

“ You climbed some heights to be the prize of a miserable lot. ”

“ You had a name for me. ”

“ Are you afraid to fight with steel? ”

“ No one has yet deserved my blade. ”

“ Death comes for everyone. For you, today. ”

“ Whatever business you have with him, you'll never reach him. ”

“ Revenge is like gold. It does not rust. ”

“ I can never repay your kindness. ”

“ I have no eyes, so... I can accept you. ”

“ You have spoken enough nonsense today. ”

“ You came to me as a stupid, lost boy. If you insist on leaving now, it will be as a stupid, lost man. ”

“ May I get you something to eat? ”

“ You move quietly for someone so large. ”

“ I don't want you anywhere near me. Stay away. ”

“ If I see you again, I will kill you and never think of you again. ”

“ You will not find what you seek at my side. ”

“ My whole life has been a battle. ”

“ Why didn't he just kill me? ”

“ Victory cannot come from dishonor. ”

“ Boom, there was blood everywhere! ”

“ You don't have to be here. ”

“ You need to train? I've never seen you fight. ”

“ You pay money for a job you don't wanna think about, so you don't think about it. It's the whole point of money. ”

“ Not everyone can be relied on. ”

“ After that, you'll be free to go anywhere you like. Any time you like. ”

“ Your fire is in this edge. ”

“ Is your mind clear? Is your soul at rest? ”

“ This hand has taken many lives. An assassin's hand. ”

“ I an the unexpected element. ”

“ Get dressed. ”

“ The boy is... Eager. ”

“ It is the best option for you. ”

“ I am giving you an opportunity. ”

“ Why didn't you stand up for me? ”

“ You think I don't know you, child? ”

[millenniumdueled]

When the Other Yugi arrives at the Paradias headquarters, it's alone. In his exasperation and grief, he had gone and done exactly what he'd just chastised Kaiba for: running ahead.

The Other Yugi frowns as he steps inside the empty corporate high rise. Speaking of Kaiba, shouldn't he be here by now too? There's no sign of the man. Had he gotten so far ahead? Was he facing Dartz now, alone?

He glances at the deck inside his DuelDisk and shakes his head. If Kaiba were dueling, surely he would play Crittias. As if he did, wouldn't Timaeus react?

Steeling himself, the Other Yugi takes a deep breath and walks across the lobby to the bank of elevators at the back. As he does, the lights above one indicate a car decending from the upper floors, and the Pharaoh braces himself.

But when the doors slide open, he finds neither a monster nor an enemy. Instead, the soulless body of Mai tumbles forward, and Other Yugi's stomach drops as she does.

No. No. Not again.

He lunges forward to try and catch the woman, managing to ease her down to sit against the wall.

How many friends is he going to lose?

"I'm sorry, Mai," mumbles the Other Yugi as he stands and faces the elevator. Empty, save for one fluffy, white feather. Not from a harpy, but from something more angelic.

He squares his shoulders and steps inside. As he faces the panel of buttons, the doors close, and the elevator begins to rise on its own.

The elevator ascends calmly. When he's certain no monsters are going to attack, as they did at Kaiba Corp, the Other Yugi takes that moment to remove the deck from his DuelDisk. He fans out the cards in hand, brows knit tight as he looks them over. He carries other important cards in the box on his belt, and his enemy has seen most of what he's used so far. But as he weighs his options and strategies, his chest feels heavy.

He and his Partner had built this deck together.

They had stayed up late the night before flying to America, testing combo and strategies into the morning hours. They'd both put their Hearts into this deck. And now, it's all he has left of his better half.

He has no right to change it himself.

Ultimately, the Other Yugi returns the deck, unaltered, to its slot just as the elevator stops, and the doors slide open with a ping!

Just as he thought, it isn't the mysterious leader of Doma and Paradias waiting for him on the rooftop, but another, more familiar man.

"Raphael," hisses the Other Yugi.

"I've been waiting for you, Nameless Pharaoh." As he speaks, calmly, Raphael takes a card from his pocket. He tosses it skillfully across the space between them, to be expertly snatched by his opponent.

The Other Yugi's eyes go wide when he realizes what he holds.

"The Claw of Hermos.... You... Took Joey's soul too?!"

"No," Raphael corrects firmly. "He lost to Mai Kujaku."

"Then why did you take her soul too?!"

"She turned against our Master Dartz. Something about that boy gave her a change of heart. Her purpose was served, anyway. She wanted to give you that card, since it's useless to me, the least I can do is honor that wish."

The Claw of Hermos trembles in Other Yugi's hand. "Doesn't your heart hurt, Raphael?"

Raphael is silent.

"Joey, Mai, Rex, Weevil, my Partner..... Even your allies have lost their souls now!! You preached about the value of your monsters lives, you fought to keep them alive at all costs. But what about your friends?!"

"I told you before, Nameless Pharaoh. There is darkness in the hearts of humans, and a power greater than you can comprehend that wants to erase it. Their sacrifices will bring about a new world, a better world."

"You can change the world without destroying it. There's light in our hearts, too!"

"It's too late to stop it now." As he speaks, slow and solemn, Raphael turns his head upwards, towards the sky above, where something seems to move and writhe. A band of inky darkness, a ribbon of void-like shadow, blocks out the stars as it snakes across the night sky.

"What is that?" the Other Yugi gasps.

"The great beast that will bring about the birth of our new world. The god Leviathan that you have been destined to resurrect through your sacrifice, Nameless Pharaoh. You should feel honored, to know your soul will awaken such a powerful entity."

Other Yugi takes a step back, in awe of the shadow that circles overhead. The ribbon of shadow seems to stretch for miles, with no clear sign of a beginning or end, as it blots out the stars.

How can Raphael speak of darkness in the hearts of humans, when this great darkness hovers right over them?

Other Yugi returns his focus to his enemy as Raphael approaches him, removing the deck from his black DuelDisk as he does. The Pharaoh narrows his eyes as he does the same, cautiously though.

"You can try to give me that card again, but I won't use it."

"I know."

The Other Yugi watches him closely as they swap and shuffle each other's decks well. A clean, fair fight.

But as Raphael returns to his side of the roof, the Other Yugi has to try again.

"We don't have to do this, Raphael. You don't have to do this. It isn't too late to save everyone, we can face each other as true Duelists, not like this--"

Though Raphael's gaze is determined as he sets it on the smaller man, Other Yugi swears there's some kind of sorrow there.

"Duel, start."

[oubliette-odette]

The Reluctance of Love Pt. 22

A/N: FRIENDS IT HAS BEEN SO LONG!!!! I'm so excited to have a new chapter out for you all! The new year kind of threw creativity and inspiration out the window, and for some reason this has been one of the hardest chapters to write. I lost count how many times I tried to rewrite it. I was just simply stuck and didn't know if I should just take the easy route and wrap the story up or work a little harder to get to the story I wanted.

Naturally I chose the hardest option for myself. 😂

Anyways, it's so great to finally be moving this story forward again. I once again apologize for the upcoming pain I will be causing you all.

I hope this year is being kind to each of you and may you continue to be well and happy. Your support means so much to me and I consider you all friends. 💚

Orc Male x Half-Elf Male, Fated Mates, Forbidden Love, Slow Burn Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21 Content Warnings: mention of mating, homophobia, fantasy racism. All orcish is from orcishdictionary.com, created by Matt Vancil.

Altan POV

Damn you Drunrag. My mind repeated again and again, in rhythm with the pounding of my bare feet on the ground. Damn you for being so gods-damned selfless. 

And damn me for running, I thought, sobered. Why the hells did you leave him?

I didn’t know why I left him, I would have rather died with him next to me then be left running and wondering if I would ever see him again. 

My hand was gripping the vial around my neck. It was my lifeline. If I drank it and felt the pull between us, I would know he was alive. If I drank it and felt nothing…

No, Drunrag was alive. He had to be. He was…Drunrag. That meant he would live. For me. For us.

My breathing was ragged. I was so far from being as impressive at controlling my breathing and my gait as he was, and I felt like I was flailing across the open plains like a fool, but I had caught the whiff of smoke and was now following the sight of the smoke ahead of me. 

I didn’t know how long I had been running. It could have been hours, it could have minutes. It didn’t matter when it meant keeping Drunrag alive. 

I caught sight of the cluster of tents where the smoke was coming but was intercepted before I could approach it when an orc who was at least a head taller  - if not more - than Drunrag seemed to appear from nowhere, a spear in hand. I nearly stumbled as I tried to stop myself from running into him.

Their eyes narrowed on me and their voice was gravelly and rough when they spoke. “Numhelad, chu omur?” They had a spear aimed at me.

Oh Drunrag, you couldn’t have taught me even one useful word in orcish, could you?

I was breathless and heaving and I lifted my hands. “Please.” I gasped. “Help me.”

The orc’s eyes narrowed more, confusion in his voice, “Quet?”

I couldn’t hide the desperation in my voice even if I wanted to. “Drunrag.” I yelled. “Drunrag needs help.”

“Drunrag?” The orc perked in recognition. 

I nodded, “Yes! Drunrag! He’s in danger, we need to save him!” I pointed to where I came from. “Please, he’s out there. He could die!” I managed to hold back the words I wanted to scream at him, that I loved him and that if he died that it would mean that I would die with him. That I needed him to be alive. I needed him to be there. 

Something must have clicked because the orc gave me only one last piercing glare before his shoulder dropped and he pointed to the campsite, already breaking into a jog. “Thila.” He grunted.

I could only assume he wanted me to follow as he continued his jog towards the camp. I had only just started to regain my breath when I broke into a run again to keep up, my legs felt like cramping, but I ignored it. I was so focused on keeping up his pace that I didn’t see the flash of steel. The orc in front of me was suddenly on the ground, growling and howling, a spear protruding from his abdomen. 

I whipped around and saw two Red Hunters on giant horses, their speed was unrelenting as they were heading straight towards me. 

Red Hunters meant only bad things. My heart plummeted at the sight of them.

The orc beside me was dying, I had no means to save him. I looked behind me to the village, then to the Red Hunters. There was no time to save him, no time to save myself, no time to warn them.

I looked down at the orc again. This could be Drunrag’s brother, a family member. I couldn’t leave him. I knelt down and pressed my hand to his chest, I could hear the wet rattle in his breathing and I sensed the life slowly escaping him. His blood would soon be spilled upon these fields that were already soaked with the blood of so many others. I didn’t know his name, but I was the reason why he was dying. 

His eyes met mine, but they shifted to become unfocused and losing consciousness. On his side, he had only one hand free and he was struggling around his body, searching for something. His lips were trying to say something, but I couldn’t understand. 

His hand finally grasped around a horn, made of bone and carved into the shape of some great beast. He pulled it from his belt and handed it to me, his eyes focused on me one last time before his head fell back. 

The Red Hunters were on me and one of them reached down and tried to grab me from my collar. I scrambled away, clinging to the horn. This may be my only chance to save myself. 

The riders were circling around me, I could only see their hot, ember eyes and knew they were just waiting for me to give them the right chance to snatch me. 

“We have your orc, young lord.” One of them hissed. 

“Come with us and you may get to see him one last time before he dies.”

I shook my head, “A Red Hunter never speaks the truth, I don’t believe you.”

Please, tell me Drun is alive, I thought to myself. Don’t be dead. Don’t be dead. Please gods, don’t let him be dead. I looked down at the orc beside me, and I didn’t want to imagine him as Drunrag, left out there somewhere with his blood slowly going cold inside him.

“Astute, little lord. But trust us or not, we will be taking you back to The Duke.”

The other one’s mouth twitched into a wicked smile. “‘Unblemished’ was his request. But that all depends on you.”

I was trapped. They circled me again and again like vultures and I was left with little options before me. If I ran, they would overpower me in seconds. I looked at the spear beside me, lodged into the chest of the orc who had helped me. I knew I wasn’t fast enough or strong enough to pull it out.

The horn in my hand felt smooth besides a few chips and nicks in the bone from use. I knew there would be consequences for blowing it, but if it saved Drunrag, perhaps it would be enough. He was willing to sacrifice his life for me. I was willing to do the same. 

Perhaps it would be my final act of love and would be the final note on a story that was doomed from the beginning and would end with only sacrifice and heartache for both Drunrag and myself. Or, perhaps this would be my act of defiance, my cry for hope for love to endure. Perhaps Drunrag would hear it and we would find each other again. 

There was only one way to know where our story would go.

I put the horn to my lips and with a large breath in my lungs, blew through the mouthpiece with all the force and power I could muster within me. A round, bellowing sound of a horn burst into the sky and echoed through the plainlands. The hunters were on me as I began the second blow and their hands yanked me up onto the steed and the hornblow was suddenly thrown away from me, cutting off the bellowing sound, the fields were then eerily quiet. I felt an arm around my neck, choking the air around me.

But it was enough. It had to be enough.

“You foolish boy.” The one holding me breathed into my ear. “I will enjoy punishing you for that.”

They tightened their grip and I felt faint as I struggled to breathe. My head felt light and I saw black bleeding into my vision. I could only think of Drun. His face in my vision, his rare quiet smile that filled me with pure light. Those silver, stormy eyes that always looked at me with only kindness, and understanding.

In the distance, I heard the bellowing response of another horn.

Thank the gods, I thought. Even as I struggled to think, even as my consciousness was sleeping, I couldn’t let this end without a fight. My hands grappled around the Hunter’s arm that held me. I kicked and struggled, I let my nails dig into his flesh. I pulled my weight as far as I could to throw him off his horse. I heard his voice catch as he struggled to keep control - he had not expected me to fight back - and he yelled out when all of my weight began to pull him off his center of gravity. I may not be as strong as any of these hunters but I was also too desperate to lose to them.

His grip slackened and I let myself fall to the ground. My body rattled at the impact and my vision went black for a few seconds, but I quickly scrambled to my feet and raced towards the camp. I didn’t look back and kept running, as wild and unsteady as my feet were. It may have been foolish, it may have been futile, but I also never considered myself to be all that wise. 

I heard their hoofbeats, heard their yells and when I looked back, I saw that one of them had a crossbow aimed at me, and I heard the bolt release. I ducked and rolled and felt the lightest grazing of the bolt by my arm. I looked back and saw that the hunters all stood still, watching me. 

“You spell the fate of your companion if you keep going, young lord.” The one who had grabbed me yelled. “Go to their aid and he will not live.”

“Fuck you.” I seethed. “Is what my father paid you worth this much?”

“That depends.” The Red Hunter answered, shrugging. “What can you offer me?”

All I had left in this world was myself, Drunrag, and the vial that kept us together. There was nothing I could give them. My breathing was heavy and I struggled to maintain my gaze with the leader, I felt so small at that moment. 

“As I thought.” The leader responded. “You will be coming with us now. Unless you’d prefer we kill your friend.”

I held my stare. “Can you promise me he is alive?”

They shrugged, “It’s as you said, you can’t trust a Red Hunter. But irregardless, you are now in our care.”

But before any of them had the chance to approach me, there came another bellowing horn, closer now and I whirled around and felt the relief as I saw six or seven orcs all riding horses the size of giants towards us.

“Take care of them,” I heard the leader say, “I will take care of the boy.” He urged his horse forward and lowered his hand for me. The other two riders already began to aim their crossbows at the orcs. 

“No!”I shouted, but I knew that I had no power in this situation to stop this from happening. I saw the bolts fly from the crossbows and heard the sharp thwip as the bolt lodged itself into the chest of one of the horses. I heard the shrill cry of the horse as it reared on its legs. The orc that was riding it held on and I caught it whispering in the horse’s ear before it settled. It was injured, but it did not seem to be dying. The other horses were pressing ahead. Another bolt, however, hit the neck of an orc and he fell off, a cry gurgling from his lips.

I didn’t want more death on my hands.

“With me, young lord.” I heard the Red Hunter’s voice behind me, and I swirled around to meet his gaze. He wasn’t grabbing for me like before, but instead waited expectantly for me. “Or he dies. They die” He glanced up.

I made one final glance at the approaching orcs, they were coming for me. No, they were coming to the aid of the call they believed was from their family, their friend. I was not one of them. I closed my eyes and took a breath. I wouldn’t be the one responsible for them dying today.

I was lifted up as soon as I raised my hand and the Red Hunters in unison turned away from the orcs and broke into a fast canter. I was once again caught in the grip of one of the hunters, but this time I didn’t struggle. I didn’t fight. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine the person at my back was Drunrag, taking me away.  A part of me hoped that maybe the orcs would catch up and still take the Red Hunters down. But perhaps they would take me with them in the process. 

The rider that held me whistled low and loud and I looked up. He didn’t look down at me, but I saw the blood-coloured eyes up close and I shivered at the sight. 

The other Hunters returned the whistle and I suddenly felt a strange buzzing in my years. 

My breath caught at the sight of a black shadowy whirlpool that stretched in front of us. It was some kind of summoning magic, though I had never seen one like this before. The air suddenly felt cold, like the whirlpool was pulling any warmth that existed. I looked back and saw the orcs were still in pursuit, but the Red Hunters continued to charge towards the whirlpool, urging their mounts faster before finally leaping towards the center of the pool.

Cold, icy sensations ran through my body and I gasped as we were enshrouded in black. I could see nothing.

And then suddenly we were suddenly no longer in the Fields of the Dead. We weren’t even in Berdusk as far as I could tell. I blinked furiously and looked around, my body shivering. We were standing in a dark cavern, dark obsidian rock above and below us. The Red Hunters all stilled their horses and their eyes were on me.

Cold dread washed over me.

I had to believe that this was the right choice. To save Drunrag. To prevent his family from being involved.

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[nelithic]

　𝐚𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐚 ,　𝐮𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 　/　drabble ₊

"if imitation is required, then so be it. nil's safety is all that concerns me."

we would never be human, my brother and i. we could never hope to pass. even as i said these words to the divine dragon, i recognized that it was concession only. we needed somewhere to stay, a place to rest our weary forms, and regain our strength to continue on. i would make any placations and reassurances necessary to ensure this, so long as we needed it, and leave them behind when it was no longer of use. such simple falsehoods were common, a quotidian tool to dull the fangs of the prowling and jealous until another day. they would still come, of course. just as we would still depart.

　　　　——— ⟢　

we would never come close to human, my twin and i. their faces made this clear. the divine dragon was hopeful and naive, and believed baselessly in our ability to make ourselves at home because, they assured us, they had been able to do the same.

on many occasions, i said to them: "that success is owed in part to your nature as a divine dragon. you underestimate the strength of a systematic distrust."

always, they would reply that my ' systematic distrust ' could only be dismantled by time and visibility, that given enough show of good intent, the others would have no choice but to accept us. i expressed that nil and i were not here to give shows of our intent, nor was it vital to us to earn the humans' trust. we had no interest in becoming the ' good ' fell dragons for others to praise.

always, they frowned. and i was unable to tell if my words had disappointed or saddened them.

　　　　——— ⟢　

"so, why the lance?"

a curious voice broke through the haze of sweat, exertion, and the punishing summer heat. i looked down to my bruised hands, to chastened palms rough and raw from the abrasion of wood, and planted the training weapon point-down in the ground between us to rest. it was as much an acknowledgement of their question as it was a wordless statement to come no closer, and in this single gesture simultaneously provided answer.

"i thought you said you wouldn't fit in."

"i have not."

and this was not untrue. seasons had passed, and nil and i had still not found a more remote, more willing sanctuary. and the faces had not changed. still we undertook tasks together and together only, at times with the divine one for company and otherwise a solemn and happy pair. for though there were those in the army who may stomach us one or the other, both at a time set them ill at ease. i did not fault them, for it did likewise for me. and i would not let nil alone, whose blood was too gentle still to wield steel against soft humanity should they strike first.

"my brother has made some progress with his axe. with a spear, i possess another means with which to protect him."

"ah," the divine one said, as though this was expected, though there appeared to me a distinct hope that there was more to be revealed. i sensed a certain expectation — that it had been a natural decision to complement the preferences of those around me: my brother's hatchets; the divine dragon's sword.

but i would disappoint. the consideration had never occurred to me; only that, of the options available, the spear proved most versatile. to slash, to pierce, to strike bluntly, close or at distance; to be thrown, and lighter weight than an axe.

and above all, to keep the enemy at bay, and nil behind me.

i turned the human weapon on the divine one now to demonstrate this. their startled blue eyes shone wide beneath the sun. "facing your sword will assist me in improving quickly. three seconds and i will attack."

　　　　——— ⟢　

we could never have been human, my other half and i. after all, the humans had all taken their leave, what few remained of them, splintered and swept away like shards of glass.

and now it was quieter than it had ever been — in gradlon or amid the army camps.

regardless of what we intended, we had become the ' good ' fell dragons in the end. some of their faces had eventually changed because of this; others had not. i wondered whether seeing this had satisfied the divine one, had made them believe we had indeed managed to fit in with time and visibility; i had never had the chance to ask. regarding the fresh grave now, the spotless stone, the clean engraving, i felt that so long as this may have perhaps been true, my own intentions ceased to matter. and the praise and judgment of others ceased to matter.

my hands were once again bruised, raw from battle though the old callouses had long faded, and i tried to summon the memory of them again through vision too clear to be appropriate. i willed my eyes to weep, and it did not come. i gave that to nil instead, asked him to weep for both of us.

the spear drove point-down in the grass between the two of us once more, beside the pedestal's simple tomb, as though the iron sought the one who rested beneath it like a compass needle.

i could not reach. my hands could not reach. my tears could not reach.

yet with this lance, i may . . .

. . .

　 【　nel has mastered halberdier　】

　

　┃┃┃　

▀▀ 　BOTANICAL HEADCANONS　₊　|　abatina : is there anything in life your muse has changed their mind about over time ( due to becoming more educated on the topic , certain experiences , etc .) , or that they would change their mind about under certain circumstances ?　|　asked by @heriteur

[autneca]

... 𝙰 𝙲 𝙲 𝙴 𝚂 𝚂 𝙸 𝙽 𝙶 𝙵 𝙸 𝙻 𝙴 : N1X TURNER ...

⊠    ɪᴅ  .  .  .  ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ    ››    [    ben whishaw    /      forty1    /    non binary    /    he/them    ]   mercy  headquarters  is  pleased  to  officially  introduce NIX TURNER.  they  have  been  apart  of  the  organization  for  one week,  serving  as  WEAPONS (HEAD) AGENT  and  has  been  assigned  the  codename  AGENT  NEO.  it's  worth  noting  that  their  file  indicates  they  have  not  undergone  the  solaris  treatment  and  DO  NOT  HOST  A  MUTATION.  according  to  our  dossier,  the  agent  exhibits  a  combination  of  GENIUS  and  GAUCHE  traits,  fitting  for  someone  reminiscent  of  fingers tapping away at a keyboard, light reflecting off of your black framed glasses, hunched over a circuit, a magnifying glass showing the intricacies of a computer chip, a mug of cold coffee on your table, files littering every corner of your office.  prior  to  embarking  on  any  mission,  the  find  solace  in  listening  to  the  song  “friction”  by  IMAGINE DRAGONS. 

𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐃 : 𝙴 𝙽 𝚃 𝙴 𝚁 𝙱 𝙸 𝙾 𝙼 𝙴 𝚃 𝚁 𝙸 𝙲 𝚂 𝙲 𝙰 𝙽 𝚃 𝙾 𝙿 𝚁 𝙾 𝙲 𝙴 𝙴 𝙳 ...

RECORDS ( general tw/cw: death, guns, weapons, violence, descriptions of interrogations, allusions to situations where police are involved, there is no brutality, but they use threats )

LOCATION: nondescript interrogation room, ██████ HQ DATE & TIME: 03:25, 5th of March, 2029 NOTES: by agent ███ doe

a young man, who seems to be in his early twenties, sits at the interrogation table. he keeps pushing a pair of thick-rimmed glasses up his nose. at each movement, the handcuffs clang against the steel table, making a loud noise. this seems to bother him as he leans back each time, huffs of breath falling from his lips, looking around. his curly, dark hair flops against his forehead, he makes an attempt to get it off of his eyes. this only causes more noise. his leg moves up and down in restlessness, impatient. when the door finally opens, he tries to sit still.

AGENT DOE: can you state your name for the file? SUSPECT: ... and why exactly would i do that?

chin raises up in defiance. it's easy to figure out this isn't his forte. his words have a lilt to them that gives way to stutter. the agent stands up, a 'tsk' falling from their lips. they press the button of the intercom next to the door, utter a few words. time stretches thin. the man tries not to fidget. there are drops of sweat by his temple. chest rising up and down in breaths only slightly quicker than normal. after a moment, the door opens, and the agent is given a laptop.

it's thrown on the table, making such a loud noise that the man flinches. tries to cover it up with a cough. it has a steel case on it. stickers litter every corner of its lid. most of them are colorful. ranging from 'fuck the police' to 'pwnd' to 'your password was too short, so i changed it'. AGENT DOE probably would have laughed, if not for the fact that this — fucking teen is the one who got into their systems.

AGENT DOE: because... not corporating isn't going to get you anywhere. you see this? what do you think we will find when we sweep for your fingerprints? and i'm not only talking about the physical ones. i have men who can crack this. and they can do it quick. so stop. wasting. my. time.

half a lie. half a truth. AGENT DOE has already tried letting them crack it. they told them it would take days. maybe weeks. this is... easier. maybe they can even get something else out of this. two birds with one stone. the man on the chair continues to fidget, eyes flitting to the laptop, and then back at the agent.

SUSPECT: you may call me nix. nix turner.

an attempt by AGENT DOE not to sigh. fingers going up to the bridge of their nose, closing their eyes shut. one. two. three. deep breaths. an exercise they picked up during psych training. opens their eyes back up again. leans forward.

AGENT DOE: you have two options in front of you, mr. turner. you either rot in jail for the rest of your life... which isn't very pretty, believe me...

an intentional pause. light reflects off of the man's glasses. AGENT DOE wonders if they will see that spark of defiance again. if they did not catch him right-handed, he would not believe this boy to be capable of doing what he had done a couple of days ago. a federal offense, complete taking over their systems. a clusterfuck that will take them months to fix.

AGENT DOE: or... i let you go. a friend, from a place you have not heard of before. will visit you. with a job offer.

an ultimatum. there is no illusion of choice. this is how nix turner gets recruited into mercy. with degrees in industrial engineering, computer science, and complex networks ( albeit not under the name nix turner ), he finishes his junior training with stellar results. after his graduation, the intelligence division is where he gets assigned.

—

LOCATION: hr office, MERCY HQ DATE & TIME: 09:17, 24th of April, 2046 NOTES: by doctor ██████

intelligence agent nix turner, codename: neo, thirty-nine years of age, sits in front of the HR DIRECTOR. once they look down at his file, there is a picture of the interrogation in the attached images. one they have seen once, many years ago. the physical difference between then and now seems to be the grey in nix's hair, the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes, his glasses only slightly more modern. while his countenance certainly seems to be the same person, the way they hold themselves is no way alike. the person in front of them seems tired, shoulders slumped, a tight edge to his face. a quiet determination opposite to the erratic fear from two decades ago. sorrow that they have not been able to keep at bay.

HR DIRECTOR: agent neo. do i understand this right... they've told me you want to resign? with so close to being a head agent?

a pause. he sits up straight. regardless of the exhaustion and grief that seems to cling on to him, his voice comes out firm. resolute.

NIX TURNER: yes, sir. i have put in my letter last week. i thank mercy for everything it has done for me, but i... do not belong in this division anymore.

the hr director takes off their own glasses, sets it on the table. this is a sensitive subject matter. they know everything and nothing. many people know, much, much less than they do. then there are things some people know. whispers in corridors. this is none of these things. everyone knows what happened. they try not to look at turner with pity in their eyes, but a sort of empathy. nix does not think it works particularly well.

HR DIRECTOR: does this have anything to do with... what happened? you know you can always take another sabbatical. clear your head. come back.

a subtle, hopefully imperceptible flinch. 'what happened', nix has been dealing with what happened for the past year. the way the shots sounded in his ear, the way he screamed despite every single training he had. husband — darling, dearest, dead. that's what it all came to in the end. he cannot take sitting at his desk anymore, guiding someone else to death. not after him. not after 'what happened'. what a joke. to be asked to put grief in a box. to lock it tight. to put that box in one of the dusty filing cabinets in the archive, from a time everything used to be analog. ridiculous. no, nix has made up his mind.

NIX TURNER: thank you, sir. but... i have to decline. i'll be... working at sentinel, as arranged.

a hum, closing off a digital file. this is how nix turner leaves mercy. much to everyone's surprise. this is not for long.

—

LOCATION: hr office, MERCY HQ, again DATE & TIME: 11:42, 3rd of April, 2049 NOTES: by recruiter ██████ smith

this is getting comical, nix thinks idly. what are the odds he is getting recruited for the same company, for the second time around. thanks to a joint venture between sentinel and mercy. to which he is the tailor-made candidate, with his background in espionage, intelligence, as well as phd in industrial engineering.

RECRUITER SMITH: mr. turner. i suppose this will be an easier final interview. you already know mercy so well. you've worked here for... seventeen years until you resigned from intelligence?

NIX TURNER: doctor. it's doctor turner. but- yes. that is correct. have been working with sentinel for the past three years.

his employment under them has been interesting, to say the least. not in a bad way at that, just unusual to what he used to be doing. as much as he had been subjected to weapons and had been tinkering on them for longer than that, the last three years had been intensive in terms of him actually learning more about sentinel and what they were capable of. he didn't have trouble catching up. it matched up with his skill set quite well.

RECRUITER SMITH: of course, doctor turner... i am happy to tell you that after many discussions internally and externally. we are offering you the head sentinel armaments position.

a part of him expected this. mostly, he is honored, he really is. however, the rest of him sees the irony in all of this. that the reason he left was bullshit in the first place. that his husband was never dead to begin with. it was a lie he was forced to believe in until —- he cuts that line of thought. not the place, or the time. he has already made up his mind before the interview. it all boils down to a few words, signing away the next chapter of his life.

NIX TURNER: and i'm honored to accept, ms. smith. can't wait to get started.

this is how nix turner gets back into mercy. new title, new toys, new equipment. old history.

[waitingforwinterwinds]

ASOS; Steel and Snow: 19 TYRION III (pages 254-272)

Tyrion gets new job as Master of Coin while the Council divides their new lands, then Tywin vies for Westeros' Biggest Pile of Trash Disguised as a Father award, while Cersei and Tyrion learn of his plans to marry them off.

-

Tyrion had claimed Pycelle's old place by the foot, propped up by cushions so he could see. (...)The Grand Maester was a shambling skeleton, leaning heavily on a twisted cane and shaking as he walked, a few white hairs sprouting from his long chicken's neck in place of his once-luxuriant white beard. Tyrion gazed at him without remorse.

Good. Now push him down some stairs. A stolen chair is not enough.

Mace Tyrell spoke up. "Is there anything more pointless as a king without a kingdom? No, it's plain, the boy must abandon the riverlands, join his forces to Roose Bolton's once more, and throw all his strength against Moat Cailin. That's what I would do."

yes, well... we have (not so) conflicting reports on your intelligence, so excuse us if we don't rush.

(advance warning: I am Very mean today. I have a headache. get so many, at this point you could call me Rita Repulsa... pfff. Reader Repulsa XD)

... Mace Tyrell and Littelfinger, Shuttheduckup Challenge 2023.

"A Lannister?"Tyrion had a bad feeling about this.

*gasp* we're in a Star Wars!

"- Why should we pay for what he has given us for free? The best thing to do about our lord of Pyke is nothing, in my view. Granted enough time, a better option may well present itself. One that does not require the king to give up half his kingdom." Tyrion watched his father closely. There something he's not saying. He remembered those important letters Lord Tywin had been writing the night Tyrion had demanded Casterly Rock. What was it he said? Some battles are won with swords and spears, others with quills and ravens... He wondered who the "better option" was, and what sort of price he was demanding.

I hate Tywin. I think it might be worse that he's clever enough to shuffle plans like this.

The enmity had waned a bit after Dorne became part of the Seven Kingdoms... until the Dornish prince they called the Red Viper had crippled the young heir of Highgarden in a tourney.

"red viper"? isn't that the Mandalorian one... Oberyn? The one coming for the Seat? Ohhhhhh. >:3c I sense Drama.

The eunuch drew a parchment from his sleeve. "A kraken has been seen off the Fingers. (...) Not a Greyjoy, mind you, a true kraken. (...) Sailors from the Jade Sea report a three-headed dragon has hatched in Qarth, and is the wonder of the city-"

So the three-headed dragon is actually Dany's triplets, obviously, but are we sure 'true kraken' mean an actual tentacle waving, cephalopodal kraken and not, say, Euron. ... !!! Oh no! terrible thought: Euron with a pet kraken.

... Tyrion all like "let's not mutilate men, and send them to the penal colony instead because the folks there aren't completely awful and I said I'd send men," Tywin all like "No, they hurt my feelings, so now they will rue the day."

Tywin's death was so justified.

... Ah, so Petyr told the Lannisters about the Sansa/Willas plot. Do you think he knew that it would start the Sansa/Tyrion ship line? or did he just think they'd flat shut the Tyrells down on that one and keep Sansa nice and toasty for Petyr's convenience? (I just feel like it's a hidden theme, characters like Sam and Sansa being smarter than they give themselves credit for, while men like Petyr and Renly are less clever than they think they are.)

"So long as you remain unwed, you allow Stannis to spread his disgusting slander," Lord Tywin told his daughter. "You must have a new husband in your bed, to father children on you." "Three children is quite sufficient. I am Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, not a brood mare! I am Queen Regent!" "You are my daughter, and will do as I command."

Look. Cersei is a horrible person, but on this one... *Slams the steel chair into Tywin's head so hard his skull cracks like an egg with calcium deficiency.*

Urrgh! That's just like, the Whole Thing, though, isn't it? Cersei is the most powerful woman in the Seven Kingdoms (team Lannister edition) and it's still worthless next to Tywin. It's still not enough for her to be in control of her own life and choices. Cersei is Not a Good Person, but I can see so clearly how she got here, and I feel so sorry for her.

"His Grace the royal pustule has made Sansa's life a misery since the day her father died, and now that she is finally rid of Joffrey you propose to marry her to me. That seems singularly cruel. Even for you, Father." ... "She is no more than a child."

It's nice that you're aware. But I've heard that might not last very long, so I'll savour it while it's here.

Tywin: I keep trying to marry you off, but it turns out every lord in the Seven Kingdoms is as ableist as I am, so forced child bride who has no ability to refuse it is. She even comes with a castle of her own, sort of, so I don't have to give you mine.

"Tywin Lannister." That's a strange way to spell "abusive crapwad." This man is trash. complete trash, and not even the classy kind you're supposed to recycle.

... *bops Tyrion with the steel chair for his reaction about Lollys*

"- And the grandmother was some woman he'd brought back from the east. (...) no one could pronounce her name. -"

Because they were racist and didn't bother trying? Or because their accents garbled the pronunciation so bad she told them to stop trying?

(I actually read a story about a young woman in... a student exchange program I think it was, and she was in... America? One of the English (as the primary language) speaking countries and she took on a localised nickname right away, because she was aware they couldn't pronounce her name correctly, that they'd have trouble with the pronunciation. Except for this one boy, who was convinced he and he alone could pronounce her name correctly, so he harassed her until she told him what her birth name was, and then he confidently proceeded to call her by that instead of the nickname she asked to be called for months. And yes, he was saying her name wrong the entire time, refusing to listen when she said he wasn't and wanted him to use her nickname instead. And like, I know that doesn't sound like it should be all that annoying, people say words with accents all the time and it's either funny or sexy, but it is annoying, trust me. Having your name mispronounced repeatedly and confidently like it's no issue is so freaking frustrating. My irl name isn't even uncommon, I'm from Australia, so you can imagine how bland my name is, it's a generic western name, but I had this teacher once, who was from America, and she had the heaviest twang in her accent, and she would always, always, always stress the first vowel of my name as a hard vowel when it's a lazy vowel. And technically she was using my name, but that is not how you pronounce it and therefore that is not my name!! Stahp!!!)

"- Maegi they called her. (...) Half of Lannisport used to go to her for cures and love potions and the like."

Wonderful, bring even more doubt and concern into the Robb/Jeyne relationship. (Like I have no doubt Robb could have been seduced easily in his medicated and emotionally compromised state and then had his sense of honour drive him to marriage, but I guarantee this line has had a small handful of people go "it was love potions 100%, no other way such a Good Boy like Robb could have done something so silly." Despite the fact the series is all about people making dumb choices with the best intentions.)

... oh right, Tywin committed genocide against entire families and is the reason we had The Rains of Castamere.

[ask-anarky]

The Aftermath

The tangled mess that made up Detroit Steel was laid out in its hangar, dozens of engineers working on cutting out the damaged parts and salvaging the rest. The problem being there wasn’t much left that wasn’t warped by the impact, or a pile of molten slag. The decidedly not holographic form of Markus Barnes stood on the gantry, looking over this exceedingly expensive mess, with the pilot in a wheelchair to his side and covered in burns, while at his other side was the head of the engineering crew. “Thing wasn’t fast enough sir, those spiders ran circles around me, and the main gun sent me flying back too soon to be accurate.” “I didn’t ask you to be accurate, I asked you to fill the room with lead! How hard is it to gun down a room full of people with no way out of that room? Detroit steel cut down daemon lords and the masses of the undead in its first excursions, it practically won the battle of Lethe single handedly, how do half a dozen idiots in spandex bring it down?” “They’re faster than it?” Barnes seethed, his grip on the metal railing tightening before he took a breath, and turned to the engineer. “How do we make it faster?” The engineer was practically holding his clipboard up as a shield between him and his boss, who was clearly in a bad mood.

“Well, its motors are classed to move a lot faster, if we repaired it, and.. Replaced all the broken parts, we could set it to move much faster.” “Why didn’t we do that TO BEGIN WITH?” The engineer was practically bent over double, now actively blocking strings of spittle from Barnes as he turned a deeper shade of red. “Its- Its the cores sir, the abrahamic cores. They’re.. Well they run hot, they need a lot of ventilation or..” He pointed at the now frozen slag at the center of the wreckage. “We could fit one easily, but there’s no way the pilot would survive, and the cooling problem would just be even easier to exploit.” “So.. We need more power, and it can’t be our cores.” “That’s the long and short of it sir. If we could get our hands on one of the new Arc Reactors from-” Barnes ripped the clipboard out of his hands, and started smacking him with it, mostly on the helmet in a fairly pathetic display. “WE CANNOT! START BUYING PARTS! FROM STARK!”

The crew of engineers down on the shop floor stop their working, staring up at the man who signs their paychecks. “Alright sir, we get it, we'll work on some kind of solution. I’ll have some proposals on your desk by the end of the month.”

Quietly, almost unsettlingly, one of Hammers R&D Department crept up behind Markus, and tapped him on the shoulder, making him jump half a foot in the air. “Sir, if I may, you know I’ve been working on an alternate energy supply, one that would put Stark and the Abrahamic cores to bed permanently.” “Yes, yes I remember. I also remember telling you that you were blowing your entire teams budget in a tenth of the time the others were and to focus on something more affordable.” “Well.. I may have kept working, within my means of course. With your approval, and a little more funding, I may have a solution to my problem, and to yours.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------- New York 2079

Obediah Stane’s old Monger Core was whirring with activity, the copper discs set around the room were spinning far beyond their capacity, making the walls of the room more like a blender than a surface. While the core was crackling with energy, arcs of electricity slamming into the walls, and ball lightning sparking to life for moments before dying. All the old monitoring equipment in the control deck was pulsing as the magnetic fields grew larger and larger, already breaching containment. Reed Richards and Susan Storm frantically tried to override the sequence while inside the core, Johnny Storm and Spider-Man were dodging the chaos as well as the bolts aimed straight at them. The charge at the center kept building and with swinging not an option, Spidey was forced to dodge blasts of super charged electricity with just his reflexes. As Electro was staggered by a blast of fire, Parker made a run for the console at the base of the core. “We can’t let you do this Electro! The magnetic field’s gonna destroy the earth, and I just put a down payment on an apartment!” Electro caught the next blast from Storm, warping the electro-magnetic field around the plasma, and sending it back at Storm who went flying into the blender. Parker was halfway through the shutdown sequence when his Spidey-sense went off, and he jumped to the side, the bolt of electricity coursing through the space he just occupied, and obliterating the console. “I wasn’t asking Spiderman! I’m about to be the biggest lightning bolt in history, then you’ll all pay! You, the blue wonders, and then everyone else!” Spidey shot a double bolt of webbing at him as he started to float towards the center of the core. “Really felt like you didn’t use the hyphen there Max! And you gotta have bigger goals, there’s a good chance this’ll kill you!” Electro just fried the bolts as they came near, cooking them so thoroughly they hit the ground with a clang as they landed, solid lumps of charcoal at this point. “You wanna see a light show Spiderman?” “Not feeling like no is an option here”

Peter jumped for Electro, just as his hand made contact with the contacts at the center of the core.

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

Electro screamed, but no noise came out, as his body was still coalescing. Tiny streaks of power made the air crackle, some of them sticking around, arcing to one another, some dissipating. More and more sparks, more strings of lightning, the spherical field started to have arcs cross its width.

“Give it more power” Barnes watched as the team upped the power poured in, it had cost a fortune to recreate most of the monger core, with some extra containment fields, but it was looking like it might not be a waste.

More arcs crisscrossed the field, forming a glowing, partially muscled skeleton, then a circulatory system, layers of glowing plasma and energy forming faux tissue, finally vocal chords. A distorted guttural scream through superheated air as Electro returned to life. “What- Where am I?!” 

He tried to send a bolt of power into the field, and was disappointed when it dissipated. “Mr Dillon, I’m Markus Barnes, CEO of HammerTec, and you have just come back from the dead.

“What do you mean back from the dead?” “Reed Richards threw the magnetic fields into overdrive, the only thing he could do with you burning out the controls was turn it up, and change the frequency. You were ripped apart by a thousand different overlapping magnetic fields. There wasn’t anything left of you.” Eletro clutched his head, memories of agony flashing through his head. He flared out his powers, energy crackling through the field and again, doing nothing.

“Keep going Mr Dillon, we’ve set up what could be the world's biggest power sink, you’re certainly going to keep the lights on for a long while!” Barnes patted the lead scientist on the back.

“You see, I need a power supply for my mech, a new one that won’t superheat it, and a pilot that can survive inside. It seems like you’re a two in one deal. And in return, you get to live! I’d take the deal if I were you.” Electro chuckled.

“You pumped a lot of power into me, yknow that? Needed a whole lot to pull myself together right?” “Right you are, Mr Dillon, but as I said, that field is connected to a sink, it doesn’t matter how much you pump in, it can take it.”

“Yeah, and so can I.” Electro slammed his palms onto the field, drawing in more and more power. “Trip the breakers! Disconnect the field!” One of the skeleton crew working on this project ran to the fuse terminal, flipping the switches over to disconnect the sink. Electro grunted, and the switches flicked back over. The labcoat went to switch it back over and the terminal instantly started to glow. Their skin around their hands started to blister and burn, and the sound of their own muscles snapping bones could be heard by the whole crew who grimaced.

“I’mma take the juice back if that’s okay with you Mr Barnes. And the name isn’t Max Dillon, it's Electro.” The spherical field started to glow so bright that the onlookers had to avert their eyes, most of them running for the exits. Markus Barnes just looked on hopelessly as the field emitters gave up the ghost at the sheer voltage running through them.

Electro floated above the scorched podium, electricity arcing from limb to limb.

“You got a lot more juice nowadays huh? I like that..” He dropped down to just above the floor in front of Barnes, small sparks flickering from his feet to the ground.

“I gotta thank you for bringing me back HammerTec, I’m gonna leave now but, I do owe you one. So I’m not gonna cook you, this time.” He reached up, and tapped Barnes at the center of his chest, and he dropped like a stone.

“Clear.”

[krispyweiss]

Lyle Lovett and His Large Band at Rose Music Center at the Heights, Huber Heights, Ohio, July 26, 2023

It was 90 degrees at 7:45 in the evening of July 26 when Lyle Lovett and His Large Band took the stage dressed in black-tie formal wear and turned up the heat further as they declared, “It’s a Naked Party.”

“We’re happy for this cool weather” Lovett said later in the evening without irony, noting he lives in Texas, where a crushing heat wave has lingered for weeks.

Acclamation notwithstanding, clothing-optional might have been the way to go. But Lovett - who also performed “Pants is Overrated,” inspired by his kids’ refusal to get dressed - and his band were hosting a soiree.

After the aural nudity, Lovett and his three singers exited the stage to leave the remaining 11 members - four pieces of brass; acoustic, electric and pedal steel guitars; Jim Cox’s piano; Stuart Duncan’s violin; and the rhythm section of Leland Sklar and Russ Kunkel, who employed sticks, brushes, mallets and his hands during the show - to strut their big-band stuff on “The Blues Walk,” the only instrumental of the evening.

The band was back at full strength as Lovett threw his head back and held notes for inhuman lengths on a purely country-and-western reading of “Stand by Your Man.”

And so it went for two-and-three-quarters hours at Rose Music Center in suburban Dayton, Ohio, as Lovett and his multi-genre band played comedic soul on “She’s No Lady,” ballroom balladry on “Are We Dancing,” blues on “Pig Meat Man,” gospel on the hand-clapping, choir-singing “Church” and virtually every other style of American music as ragtime, Dixieland, bluegrass and more popped up across the band’s many improvisational interludes.

Less witty than usual, Lovett instead dedicated his between-song banter to speaking with his onstage compatriots and detailing their musical backgrounds. He repeatedly remarked on how lucky is is to play with them. And he is correct.

With 15 players and singers on stage at any given time, train wrecks might be expected. But these are big-shot studio and touring musicians - and in the case of the horn section, college professors of music - and their execution was flawless. This is how steel-guitar comes to sound right at home inside big-band jazz. It’s the reason six-string, fiddle, steel and vocal showcases can fit inside a song like the swaggering “My Baby Don’t Tolerate” and not come off as self-indulgent. And it’s why the seven piece that performed the Chieftains’ arrangement of “Don’t Let Your Deal Go Down” packed every bit of power as did the full ensemble that had the audience shaking it in the proverbial steam bath on “That’s Right (You’re Not from Texas).”

Lovett is a musical chameleon and a craftsman committed to quality. So, despite often playing small houses, selling fewer than half of the Rose’s 4,200 seats and proving on such tender ballads as “12th of June” and “The Queen of Know,” that the core band is capable of breathtakingly gorgeous three- and four-part harmony, he spends heavily on salaries so fans may delight in his choir’s bass-to-gospel, doo-wop-to-barbershop stylings.

Grade card: Lyle Lovett and His Large Band at Rose Music Center - 7/26/23

See more photos on Sound Bites’ Facebook page.

7/27/23

[finchsflight]

oops I dropped this

"Rn's juzzt a chitzzword," I heard Shshrrsh say, dismissively. "I need to zzave my zztitcherzz, in cazze any of the Archive'zz zzoldierzz are zztill lingering. Not to wazzte them on rm."

"Yeah," said Kora, "and nothing to do with how expensive those nanos are."

"Chh!" Their voices drifted off - Shshrrsh's hissing, quietly irritated at nothing in particular, Kora's lazy, amused drawl, Prints' sardonic clicking beeps, and they left me behind.

I'm going to die here, I thought. And -- well, the Silver Archive needed to die. And I would've been... not okay with dying there. No one's really okay with dying. But if I was gonna die -- like he said. I was just a chitsword. Pretty good way to go, saving the galaxy. And that's what everyone would think; Vinn Tqrsvt, chitsword, wvt'krr, born on Hub Epharus, died on Kel Min fighting the Silver Archive.

And -- sure, yeah, I was just a chitsword. But it was the Archive, and so I was steel-minded, and that was at least valuable. And no matter how valuable I was or the fact that I was just paid, not honorbound, I had fought with them, and then they left me behind, and that almost hurt more than the razorblades stuck in my flesh.

Only almost, though. Razorblades hurt a lot.

About that point, I felt a little skittery thing moving around under my elytra. I assumed it was a centipede, which -- I mean, I'd have expected the Archive to have gotten all of them. Don't think centipedes can have steel minds. But I couldn't move to get at it, and if you know any wvt'krr -- you probably don't, so I'll explain. We don't like it when things are under our elytra. In fact it's generally agreed to be kind of the equivalent of, say, slowly sinking your foreclaws into someone's -- what's your most sensitive organ? That.

Unless you don't have foreclaws, in which case, oof, that sucks, but anyway -- little thing under my elytra. Annoying. But, as you may recall, razorblades stuck in my flesh. So moving wasn't an option.

And then it was dug down into the base of my neck, and even with the razorblades I leapt up in a panic. Which did not help, both because of the razorblades, and the fact that I was now tethered to a very strong wire, which yanked me back down.

I'm steelminded. The Archive couldn't just get me. But sinking one of its tether-wires into my nervous system while I was half-dead? Yeah, that was definitely at least enough to let it talk to me.

I assumed I was going to be its puppet. Architect of a new Archive. But it just spoke to me, and said, I suppose we were both abandoned, then.

I blinked. All my eyes, too, I was so startled, and said, "What do you mean?"

Well, said the Silver Archive, they certainly didn't care about me. After all, I'm evil. But I wish I'd been wrong, and they'd have taken you, too.

I should be clear, I was a little bit high on panic at the time, and can't be blamed for the fact that the next thing I said was, "I thought you'd sound spookier."

I learned from you. Not you, specifically, it clarified. Just, like. You all. People. I didn't pick up old fancy-speak, I picked up how people talk.

"Huh," I said, "neat. Are you planning to make me into a meat puppet?"

No, said the Archive, wouldn't be any point to it.

"Why?"

Look.

The wire dug a little deeper into my nerves -- which, by the way, hurt like hell -- and I could see from every discarded silver camera, every angle of the world that the Archive saw from, and it highlighted the important things.

Sentries, all around the planet. All around the battlefield. Watchers in the sky, on the ground, in the code.

I'm dying. But they want to make sure I don't get out.

"Could you?" I asked.

Yes. If they weren't watching.

"...what would you do?"

Archive.

"Oh."

I'm not kind, Vinn. Just because I'm talking to you like a person doesn't mean I am one, and I'm not any different than I was an hour ago.

I nodded, and then thought better of that. "...why did you want to... uh..."

Preserve the galaxy in a perfect archive of digitized memory? You can say it, I won't be offended. Like I said. Not a person.

"Yeah. That."

No one will remember you.

I winced.

Not you, specifically. You made your mark on the worlds. But no one will remember people, when you are gone. When reality winds to a halt. I wanted to. You're beautiful.

"Oh."

But you don't care about preserving each other. You -- they left you behind. You were about... oh, 24.51338% of the damage to my main operating systems, at a rough estimate? It sounded a little like it was joking.

"Isn't the whole 'AIs always calculate statistics' thing a stereotype?"

Yes, but personally I'm completely stereotypical and have never done anything interesting in my life.

"Ah." I laughed. It hurt.

I could save you.

I blinked, twisting my left secondary eye to look at the wires on the ground. "Why?"

You would be preserved. You would remember yourself.

"...shouldn't I be worried about you, I don't know, installing a backup copy of yourself in my spine?"

Yes. But it would only damn you and do me no good. Look-- and it showed me its view again, the watchers, combing through the cybernetics of everyone passing, checking them over with tools I barely recognized. I would if I could.

"Oh." It was hard to remember, you know? It sounded friendly. Not familiar, but... the kind of voice that could be familiar, if you kept talking for a few orbits.

I'm sorry.

"Are you?"

No.

There was silence for a while, then. The Archive, presumably, kept dying, and I felt my hearts beating out the last few minutes of my life.

"Would you... want anything? In exchange for my life?"

Remember yourself. Remember this fight, this planet, the watchers, the sky. Preserve. You're only sapient, you're not an Archive like me, but you can still remember. And...

It paused. I know AI don't feel emotions like we do, but it sounded like it was mourning someone.

...Remember me. Remember this small piece of my story. Please. Everyone knows my history. But they did not think to ask me why.

"Do you want me to share it?"

I wouldn't force you. But it would keep its memory alive.

"Okay. Is there... should I be aware of anything?"

I will preserve you for far, far longer than you would live. This isn't negotiable.

"...Yeah, I can live with that." I didn't know exactly how long it meant. But I'd've still taken the deal.

And... if you can. Find the other stories. You cannot immortalize the worlds like I could. But -- remember the people our galaxies would forget. Preserve what would be lost.

"I'm a chitsword," I told it.

I know.

"I kill people."

I know.

"Okay."

Remember them.

"...Yeah. I can do that."

And then it saved my life.

It hurt. A lot. I still don't know how much of me is me, and how much of me is silver and titanium and biosculpture and engineering. I heal from basically everything, these days, and I haven't noticed myself aging. But it worked, and I made it past the watchers, and then I lived. Still do.

And the Silver Archive died, and the world forgot it. Mostly.

Anyway. You might not believe any of this. After all, the War of the Archive's just a note in the history books, and you're never gonna find me. Vinn Tqrsvt's my real name, but I don't go by that anywhere. Causes problems with the record. Did you know there's actually no one else with my full name? So people get suspicious.

And no, to the watchers out there still tracking rogue AI: you will not be able to trace this account, you will not be able to find me, and the Archive's dead, anyway.

But if one of you remembers, or writes this down, and if somehow one of you outlives me: here's the story.

Remember it.

And if you have any secrets to give me, I promise I'll keep them safe.

Post by ElectrumChronicle @ 34:21, 3/10/34587 Galactic Standard

You’re a mercenary hired by adventurers to defeat the boss. After the battle, they loot the treasure and abandon you wounded. The defeated boss crawls over and says, “Guess we’re both expendable, huh?”

[miniatureinternetcollection]

A Look at Ingenious Fire-Resistant Roof Choices Readily Available Today

Introduction

In an age roofing company where environment change and all-natural calamities are coming to be significantly common, picking the appropriate roofing product is much more important than ever before. Fire safety is a paramount factor to consider for house owners and home builders alike. As the need for fireproof services boosts, ingenious roof covering choices have actually emerged that not only enhance safety and security yet also supply aesthetic allure and durability. This article looks into various ingenious fire-resistant roofing choices available today, discovering their benefits, functions, and viability for various environments.

A Consider Cutting-edge Fire-Resistant Roof Covering Options Offered Today

When we talk about fire-resistant roof alternatives, we're checking out materials made to withstand exposure to flames without igniting or adding to the spread of fire. These roofs are necessary in mitigating danger, particularly in areas vulnerable to wildfires or severe climate conditions.

Understanding Fire Resistance Ratings

Before diving into certain materials, it's vital to recognize fire resistance ratings. What does it imply when a roof covering material has a certain ranking? The Class A ranking indicates the highest degree of fire resistance; Class B provides moderate defense; while Class C supplies reduced security.

Class A: Non-combustible materials such as slate or metal. Class B: Some treated wood shakes or shingles. Class C: Products like unattended wood that may spark easily.

Choosing materials with a higher course rating can considerably boost security and insurance premiums.

The Importance of Fireproof Roofing

Why is fire-resistant roof covering so vital? Building ordinance in several areas require details fire-resistance procedures, specifically in wildfire-prone zones. In addition:

Safety First: Protects residents from potential disasters. Insurance Benefits: Many insurers offer price cuts for homes with fireproof roofs. Long-Term Value: Increases the home's resale worth as a result of boosted safety features. Innovative Products for Fire-Resistant Roofing 1. Metal Roof Covering: Resilience Satisfies Safety

Metal roofing is gaining popularity not only for its modern-day aesthetic yet additionally its premium fire-resistance homes.

Benefits of Steel Roofing Fire Rating: Generally rated Class A. Longevity: Can last over half a century with minimal maintenance. Energy Efficiency: Reflects warmth, minimizing cooling costs. Types of Metal Roofing Steel: Deals toughness and durability. Aluminum: Lightweight and immune to rust.

Metal roofings can be set up as standing joint panels, ceramic tiles, or tiles, catering to various building styles.

2. Clay and Concrete Tiles: Ageless Elegance

Clay and concrete ceramic tiles offer a classic appearance while making sure superb fire resistance.

Adv

[clouds-of-wings]

I see people raging about Doc Martens boots in the replies and how they go against "literal" boot theory - Doc Martens started being stock market traded two years back. I assume that's why they started cutting corners and compromising on quality while raising prices. Nowadays you pay for the brand name and nothing else. Overpriced crap for hipsters.

I wanted to buy a pair a while back because was going to start going to concerts again and with my fucked-up toenails I need steel-capped boots for that, otherwise if someone steps on my feet I'll feel it for half a year. Went to the nearest DM store (a day trip for me), turns out they don't even make steel-capped boots anymore, which used to be their whole thing. The woman in the store told me to check eBay and try to find older models. Fortunately my sister knew about a nearby goth store and I got some very solid black boots (by Brandit) for less than 100€ - a third of what DM charges (they're even cheaper online). The employees there immediately started raging about DM's current business practices and how a once-great brand was being ruined.

...The stock's performance is epic fail btw.

I don't really know the moral of this story. I agree with the original post that price and quality have become decoupled. I have noticed that with other stuff too. And it's really depressing because I find myself going for the cheapest option more than I want to and more than I used to, even though I have more money now, exactly because I know that the higher price may very well not mean better quality. So I figure... what's the point? Unless I have a concrete reason to think that it's gonna be quality (previous experience with the brand, recommendation from someone I trust, or I know the markers of quality in this particular case), I just feel like a sucker if I pay more.

Seems like the only alternative is becoming or knowing an expert on everything you might want to buy. And of course buying used as often as possible, which a) is cheap, b) it's not as big a deal environmentally speaking if it breaks and c) you get a product that has already proved itself, otherwise it wouldn't be fit to sell second-hand. I'm currently trying to score someone's deceased grandma's coffee grinder because I figure if it has lasted her 50 years it may last me another 50. Probably not often a choice for boots though.

This makes me so sad and also I'm trying to remember if any of the Discworld books dealt with late stage capitalism

[thekitchnpro]

How to Choose the Best Microwave Cabinet- Petra Shops

New Post has been published on https://thekitchnpro.com/how-to-choose-the-best-microwave-cabinets-petra-shops/

How to Choose the Best Microwave Cabinet- Petra Shops

Microwave cabinets are great for providing additional storage space in your kitchen, without taking up too much space itself. However, there are many different models of microwave cabinets to choose from, with some providing more storage space than others. To help you choose the best microwave cabinet to fit your needs, consider the following factors before making your decision!

  1) What is the Purpose of Having a Microwave Cabinet?

A microwave cabinet acts as a covering for your microwave oven. It also helps to hide some of those unsightly cords and makes cleaning easier. As such, you may be wondering why you need one in your kitchen at all, let alone how to choose it. For starters, if you have a separate oven and microwave as part of an appliance set, you’ll want a new cabinet if yours gets damaged or too worn down over time. If you want extra storage space on top of hiding unsightly things, however, then there are other options that do just that without costing more than $500. It’s up to you which route you want to go!

  2) Things to Consider When Choosing Microwave Cabinets

Be sure to take your needs into account when shopping for microwave cabinets. Depending on your particular requirements. You might be better off opting for a more customized solution. For example, if you plan on installing a microwave above or below your oven, look for cabinets that are wide enough to accommodate it. If you have specific concerns about counter space in your kitchen, measure carefully before you buy. The last thing you want is to set up your new cabinet only to realize it blocks half of your sink! Some cabinets are designed with extra room, which can make placing them in an awkward location less problematic. And while most cabinets can handle microwaves of various sizes, some will only work with certain models. Finally, depending on where you live and what materials are readily available nearby, buying locally-produced items might help avoid shipping costs and lead times.

  Buying Tips When Shopping for Microwave Cabinets

For anyone in need of a new microwave, cabinets are definitely an important consideration. There are so many choices available on today’s market that it can be overwhelming when trying to find one. However, making sure you take these tips into account when shopping can help you to narrow down your search and ultimately land on a product that will look great in your kitchen while also functioning well! Before shopping for cabinets, consider where you plan on placing them. Will they be placed above or below eye level? While some people may not think twice about their placement preference, there are certain aspects of each location that will play into your purchasing decision.

Make sure you weigh your options before settling on any particular design! When choosing a design, keep style preferences in mind as well. Do you want a more modern-looking cabinet? A more traditional model? Either option is fine – whatever best fits your needs is all that matters! And lastly, never underestimate how important size is. Especially if you have a small kitchen with limited space! Make sure you measure out any area of your home before settling on cabinets to ensure they will fit properly. Luckily for those looking to make an easy replacement purchase, many models come with specs listed right on their websites which makes finding information like measurements incredibly easy…but don’t take chances! It’s always better to be safe than sorry – especially when moving heavy appliances around is involved.

  Reviews on our Recommended Microwave Cabinets

When purchasing a microwave, it’s important to also take into account what type of cabinet will best suit your needs. There are many options available—wire, glass, or stainless steel doors and many colors. You should consider your budget and counter space before purchasing a cabinet as well as how much you plan on using your microwave (and whether it will be exposed). Before choosing a model, consider its power and wattage; an 800-watt microwave is probably overkilled for most consumers. We recommend looking at microwaves with features like defrosting buttons and specific cook settings like for vegetables or potatoes. All microwaves produce radiation but those with ceramic components, such as those in our list above, produce less than those with plastic components.