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mostlysignssomeportents · 7 months ago

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Too big to care

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me in BOSTON with Randall "XKCD" Munroe (Apr 11), then PROVIDENCE (Apr 12), and beyond!

Remember the first time you used Google search? It was like magic. After years of progressively worsening search quality from Altavista and Yahoo, Google was literally stunning, a gateway to the very best things on the internet.

Today, Google has a 90% search market-share. They got it the hard way: they cheated. Google spends tens of billions of dollars on payola in order to ensure that they are the default search engine behind every search box you encounter on every device, every service and every website:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/03/not-feeling-lucky/#fundamental-laws-of-economics

Not coincidentally, Google's search is getting progressively, monotonically worse. It is a cesspool of botshit, spam, scams, and nonsense. Important resources that I never bothered to bookmark because I could find them with a quick Google search no longer show up in the first ten screens of results:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/21/im-feeling-unlucky/#not-up-to-the-task

Even after all that payola, Google is still absurdly profitable. They have so much money, they were able to do a $80 billion stock buyback. Just a few months later, Google fired 12,000 skilled technical workers. Essentially, Google is saying that they don't need to spend money on quality, because we're all locked into using Google search. It's cheaper to buy the default search box everywhere in the world than it is to make a product that is so good that even if we tried another search engine, we'd still prefer Google.

This is enshittification. Google is shifting value away from end users (searchers) and business customers (advertisers, publishers and merchants) to itself:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/05/the-map-is-not-the-territory/#apor-locksmith

And here's the thing: there are search engines out there that are so good that if you just try them, you'll get that same feeling you got the first time you tried Google.

When I was in Tucson last month on my book-tour for my new novel The Bezzle, I crashed with my pals Patrick and Teresa Nielsen Hayden. I've know them since I was a teenager (Patrick is my editor).

We were sitting in his living room on our laptops – just like old times! – and Patrick asked me if I'd tried Kagi, a new search-engine.

Teresa chimed in, extolling the advanced search features, the "lenses" that surfaced specific kinds of resources on the web.

I hadn't even heard of Kagi, but the Nielsen Haydens are among the most effective researchers I know – both in their professional editorial lives and in their many obsessive hobbies. If it was good enough for them…

I tried it. It was magic.

No, seriously. All those things Google couldn't find anymore? Top of the search pile. Queries that generated pages of spam in Google results? Fucking pristine on Kagi – the right answers, over and over again.

That was before I started playing with Kagi's lenses and other bells and whistles, which elevated the search experience from "magic" to sorcerous.

The catch is that Kagi costs money – after 100 queries, they want you to cough up $10/month ($14 for a couple or $20 for a family with up to six accounts, and some kid-specific features):

https://kagi.com/settings?p=billing_plan&plan=family

I immediately bought a family plan. I've been using it for a month. I've basically stopped using Google search altogether.

Kagi just let me get a lot more done, and I assumed that they were some kind of wildly capitalized startup that was running their own crawl and and their own data-centers. But this morning, I read Jason Koebler's 404 Media report on his own experiences using it:

https://www.404media.co/friendship-ended-with-google-now-kagi-is-my-best-friend/

Koebler's piece contained a key detail that I'd somehow missed:

When you search on Kagi, the service makes a series of “anonymized API calls to traditional search indexes like Google, Yandex, Mojeek, and Brave,” as well as a handful of other specialized search engines, Wikimedia Commons, Flickr, etc. Kagi then combines this with its own web index and news index (for news searches) to build the results pages that you see. So, essentially, you are getting some mix of Google search results combined with results from other indexes.

In other words: Kagi is a heavily customized, anonymized front-end to Google.

The implications of this are stunning. It means that Google's enshittified search-results are a choice. Those ad-strewn, sub-Altavista, spam-drowned search pages are a feature, not a bug. Google prefers those results to Kagi, because Google makes more money out of shit than they would out of delivering a good product:

https://www.theverge.com/2024/4/2/24117976/best-printer-2024-home-use-office-use-labels-school-homework

No wonder Google spends a whole-ass Twitter every year to make sure you never try a rival search engine. Bottom line: they ran the numbers and figured out their most profitable course of action is to enshittify their flagship product and bribe their "competitors" like Apple and Samsung so that you never try another search engine and have another one of those magic moments that sent all those Jeeves-askin' Yahooers to Google a quarter-century ago.

One of my favorite TV comedy bits is Lily Tomlin as Ernestine the AT&T operator; Tomlin would do these pitches for the Bell System and end every ad with "We don't care. We don't have to. We're the phone company":

https://snltranscripts.jt.org/76/76aphonecompany.phtml

Speaking of TV comedy: this week saw FTC chair Lina Khan appear on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. It was amazing:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oaDTiWaYfcM

The coverage of Khan's appearance has focused on Stewart's revelation that when he was doing a show on Apple TV, the company prohibited him from interviewing her (presumably because of her hostility to tech monopolies):

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/apple-got-caught-censoring-its-own

But for me, the big moment came when Khan described tech monopolists as "too big to care."

What a phrase!

Since the subprime crisis, we're all familiar with businesses being "too big to fail" and "too big to jail." But "too big to care?" Oof, that got me right in the feels.

Because that's what it feels like to use enshittified Google. That's what it feels like to discover that Kagi – the good search engine – is mostly Google with the weights adjusted to serve users, not shareholders.

Google used to care. They cared because they were worried about competitors and regulators. They cared because their workers made them care:

https://www.vox.com/future-perfect/2019/4/4/18295933/google-cancels-ai-ethics-board

Google doesn't care anymore. They don't have to. They're the search company.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/04/teach-me-how-to-shruggie/#kagi

#pluralistic #john stewart #the daily show #apple #monopoly #lina khan #ftc #too big to fail #too big to jail #monopolism #trustbusting #antitrust #search #enshittification #kagi #google

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defsiarte · 1 month ago

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PayPal has updated their TOS to give your account data to merchants

Like many other companies. They've suddenly added some feature to give advertisers your data and automatically opted all active accounts in.

Turn it off here!!

source/more info

#paypal #small business #psa #idk what else to tag this. if anyone has suggestions please lmk #I think people from the EU are exempt bc you're the only ones with user protections lol. but spread the word I guess #honking

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1425fivefive · 1 month ago

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I'm kind of cooking with this Interview with the Vampire-inspired Lestappen fic. The premise is that Charles is a 500-year-old vampire and Max is human and they first meet in Amsterdam in 1662. Charles turns Max into a vampire and the fic is a series of vignettes of their tumultuous relationship in various years/locales from the 1600s to the present. I'm tentatively titling it After Me, the Flood.

Posting a (lightly NSFW) snippet of their first meeting below to keep myself accountable to finishing this for Halloween:

“What’s your name?” Max asked.

“Charles.” Charles thought, briefly, about giving Max one of his many pseudonyms. But he had so little of himself to offer to Max. He wanted to give him at least one real thing, however small.

“Charles,” Max repeated. He said it the way all Dutch people said Charles’s name, with a tch sound at the beginning and the s at the end. Normally it irritated Charles but he found he liked the sound of his name in Max’s throaty voice.

“And yours?” Charles asked.

“Max.”

“Ah, a strong name,” Charles said, a teasing lilt in his voice. “The name of an emperor.”

“Yes, that’s why my father picked it.” Max winced as he said father and Charles knew there was something dark there. It wasn’t particularly surprising to have a poor relationship with one’s father, in a pub like this.

“What’s your business in Holland?” Max asked, clearly wanting to move on from the subject of his family.

“No business”—Charles flicked his eyes down to Max’s plush lips—“only pleasure.”

Charles watched as Max’s throat bobbed at Charles’s words, watched as the flush rose in his cheeks and spread down his neck, disappearing beneath the high collar of his jacket. Charles wanted to tear the jacket from Max’s broad shoulders, lick a stripe up Max’s neck, savor the pulse of Max’s carotid artery under his tongue.

Charles felt an aching pressure in his gums, his canines fighting to lengthen. He forced them to retreat, reminding himself of the merchant he’d drained only hours earlier.

“Would that interest you?” Charles asked, trying to tear his gaze away from Max’s neck.

Max stepped closer to Charles, Charles’s thigh sliding between Max’s legs. Charles wanted to tug Max down to his lips, but he knew even a pub like this had to ensure plausible deniability.

“Of course, Charles,” Max murmured. “Of course, I’m interested. You’re”—Max broke off, his pink tongue darting out to wet his lips—“you’re beautiful.”

Charles reached out, grazing the back of his fingers down Max’s stomach, startling a gasp out of Max. “You are quite beautiful, as well.”

Max scoffed. “Don’t lie.”

Charles frowned, confused. Max was beautiful, so beautiful Charles couldn’t understand how people hadn’t told him so constantly. Charles had lived for centuries and he’d never seen someone who looked like Max—the broad, strong features that, together, transformed into an almost searing vulnerability.

“I am not lying,” Charles said firmly. “You are gorgeous, Max.”

Max flushed, his whole face turning pink. “Stop.”

“Do you want me to stop?” Charles asked, running his fingers up and down the fabric stretched across Max’s stomach. “Because I think you would enjoy hearing how beautiful you are.” Charles paused, wondering whether to push further. But Max was staring at him with wide eyes, lips parted, and Charles added, “Perhaps you would like hearing how gorgeous your perfect lips look, wrapped around my cock.”

Max sucked in a gasp, before nodding, eager and honest. “Yes, Charles, yes, I’d—yes.”

“Good,” Charles said, smirking. “Now finish your drink.”

Max obeyed, tipping his head back and draining the last of his beer. It was a heady feeling, watching Max follow Charles’s orders. People followed Charles’s instructions all the time, but Charles couldn’t remember the last time someone had done it of their own free will, without Charles needing to compel them.

When Max slammed the empty glass back on the bar, Charles feared that he would never be able to let Max go.

Also fun fact, this scene is set in a bar that serves primarily gay clientele in 17th-century Amsterdam, and these did in fact exist in parts of Europe in the 17th century! I'm not sure whether they existed in Amsterdam specifically, but ... we ride.

#lestappen #f1 rpf #current wip #after me the flood #motorsport halloween

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ghostsandmermaids · 12 days ago

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Podcasts To Listen To If You Like OFMD

Today is the anniversary of the finale of Our Flag Means Death season 2. One whole year without our favorite pirates :( But if you miss OFMD as much as I do, I have some podcast recommendations I think you'd enjoy!

If you want more queer pirates:

Trice Forgotten

Trice Forgotten is a found-family, pirating adventure. Alestes puts her head down working as a merchant, couriering deliveries and carrying travelers to destinations across the seas. Only, her travelers gradually become permanent crewmates, until she realises her ship has become a floating museum, laboratory, vault of repatriated ‘treasures’ and chef’s kitchen. After spending most of her life with the understanding that nothing changes, no matter how hard you fight, Alestes is faced with a choice: Will she use her new network of allies to build safe harbour and potentially a future for her new community, or will she once again put her head down and drown in her sea of excuses…

Queer neurodivergent pirates of color! Found family! Homoerotic sword fights! What else do you want? (And they even talk about OFMD in one of the Below Decks episodes!)

The Ballad of Anne & Mary

It's 1721, and London is abuzz with news of notorious pirates Anne Bonny and Mary Read, currently languishing in Newgate Prison. It’s the perfect time for debt-ridden journalist Nathaniel Mist to exploit the public appetite and ghost-write a sensational (and hopefully best-selling) history of pirates. But as the balladeers and gossips on the streets of London build myths around the blood-thirsty, perverse lady pirates, Mist is forced to reckon with the real Bonny & Read… Featuring musical sensation Christina Bianco, actress and comedian Sooz Kempner, Hamilton star Karl Queensborough, drag legend Le Gateau Chocolat, and more.

If you can't get enough of Anne Bonny and Mary Read, listen to this podcast musical about them!

If you want more queer comedies:

Welcome To Night Vale

Welcome To Night Vale is a twice-monthly podcast in the style of community updates for the small desert town of Night Vale, featuring local weather, news, announcements from the Sheriff's Secret Police, mysterious lights in the night sky, dark hooded figures with unknowable powers, and cultural events. Turn on your radio and hide.

Okay, it's a horror comedy and can be creepy at times, but it's also one of the few shows that have made me laugh as much as OFMD.

Starship Q Star

When a space agency sends the “first all woman and non-binary crew” on a blatant PR mission to Mars, they inadvertently end up the last six humans in the universe. Lead by Co-Captains (and exes) Aurelia and Sim, Starship Q Star follows this madcap crew on their quest across the galaxy in search of a new home… which is basically one hilarious mishap after the other.

I suppose if you found the absolutely two perfect ex-girlfriends and sent them to Mars, then they could potentially… co-captain?

If you want more queer historical comedies:

Fawx & Stallion

London, 1889. When the residents of 221B Baker Street leave town for the weekend to solve one of their most famous cases, no one is left to clear a poor housekeeper’s name of a crime she didn’t commit. Well, no one except for their neighbors at 224B…

Tonally, this is probably the closest to OFMD. I started this podcast yesterday and fell in love with it immediately. If you like OFMD and Sherlock Holmes, please check out Fawx & Stallion!

The Kingmaker Histories

On the 19th of February, 1911, in the Valorian Socialist Republic, an assistant tailor named Colette Geise experienced a migraine that ruined her life. This is a historical account of what happened next. THE KINGMAKER HISTORIES is a steampunk weird fiction podcast about being gay and doing crime, brought to you by the freaks who brought you Less Is Morgue.

Alternate history + magic + comedy + queerness. Do I need to say more?

If you want more (queer) rom-coms:

Me and AU

When Kate “ACunningPlan” Cunningham sparks up an online friendship with a fellow fanfiction writer it seems like the perfect distraction from a summer stuck in her hometown of Kamloops, B.C., not to mention the coming terrors of her final year of university and the Real Adult Future beyond. (Seriously, please don’t mention them.) After all, Hella--Enchanted is funny, smart and writes canon-divergent werewolf fic like no one else. She’s everything a fandom could ask for. But… what if she’s everything Kate could ask for, too?

Me and AU is not only an adorable sapphic rom-com, but also a love letter to fandom! Go listen to this, it's so cute!

Life With LEO(h)

A sci-fi(ish) romantic comedy podcast starring a repressed lawyer, a criminal client, a pesky sister and her fiance, an infuriatingly sexy coworker, and an android in the mood for love. Jeanine Bell is a robotics intelligence lawyer whose laser focus on her career has come at the expense of her romantic and social lives. After successfully keeping AI genius Penelope Lane out of prison, Jeanine receives the gift of LEO(h), an android with Synthetic Sentience. LEO(h) is Loving, Empathetic, Optimistic, and (only sorta) helpful. He's programmed to love Jeanine. He’s also very, very illegal.

I'm only two episodes in and already so invested in this story! Jeanine and LEO(h) are absolutely adorable.

(Note: as far as I know, the main romance isn't queer, but there are other queer characters in the show.)

If you want more queer found families:

Hello From The Hallowoods

Darker than your dreams, and farther North than you remember, there is a forest where life and death meet… Come walk between the black pines! In this award-winning queer fiction podcast, a cosmic narrator follows the increasingly connected residents of the forest at the end of the world. It's a bittersweet story that explores queer identity, horror genre tropes, and finding hope in humanity's last moments.

Did I only add HFTH to the list because it's my all-time favorite podcast and I want more people to listen to it? Maybe. But I also genuinely think that if you like OFMD, you are going to love some of these characters. Check out my fandom manifesto if you want to learn more!

Starfall

Starfall is a fantasy audio drama about the adventures of the Carouvel Traveling Acting Troupe - a theatre troupe that uses magical items to create illusions for their shows as they move around the Falstenian Empire. The story begins as the troupe is joined by Leona, a young warrior with a mysterious past and even more mysterious powers. With their new guardian in tow, the troupe traverses the continent, encountering the dangers of humans, fae, and greater forces alike, all while still trying to put on a good show.

Remember Stede's fuckery play in S1E6? Now you can listen to a fantasy theatre troupe put on magical plays! How cool is that?

If you want more of the cast:

Kisses in the Dark

Against the bright lights of Blackpool, a supernatural killer is at work and a dark and dangerous love affair begins… A sinister, disturbingly romantic seven part podcast drama written by Marty Ross (BBC’s Catch My Breath & Ghost Zone and Audible’s The Darkwater Bride) and starring Con O’Neill (Chernobyl, The Batman) and Rhiannon Clements. A contemporary Gothic horror tale set against a background of life on the narrow edge between Pleasure Beach and wild cold sea, between secret desire and a deadly evil. Also starring, Kyle Rowe, Pamela Mayoss, Steven Gidwaney, Patrick Price & Ryan Clayton.

Con O'Neill plays one of the main characters!

What Will Be Here?

In What Will Be Here?, five friends send a rocket to space with a collection of recordings on it that document the world’s decline, the stories they want to tell, and their efforts in building this rocket to get their message to the stars. They wonder what their world will have become by the time their message is listened to. At its core, this show is about living and creating when things feel pointless. It's a story that came out of the pandemic, and the landscape in which this story was written and produced greatly influenced how it turned out. What Will Be Here? is set on earth 200 years in the future, where large-scale crises are fully normalized. But despite the bleak backdrop, this story is one of hope - of overcoming challenges, of making things that might be temporary, but also things that might be launched into space and continue on forever.

Vico Ortiz plays one of the main characters!

Dungeon Masters

Dungeon Masters takes a behind-the-curtain look into the world of Dungeons & Dragons, told through the lenses of the creator of the game, Gary Gygax, played by Wil Wheaton and of private investigator, William Dear, played by Jon Hamm, a swashbuckling tough guy in 1979. Gygax guides the audience through this incredible true story as our Dungeon Master, as we follow Dear on his quest to find Dallas Egbert, a Michigan State student, who supposedly disappeared in the steam tunnels under his university while enacting a real-life version of D&D. What Dear encounters on this journey and ultimately discovers, defies all expectations, and changes the culture as we know it.

Kristian Nairn plays one of the main characters!

The Diaries of Netovicius the Vampire

Neto is an artist first, an immortal vampire second, but for now he's being kicked out of his Beacon Hill apartment in Boston Mass. That's where we begin, but more than a year into this audio-series I can't believe the journey Neto, and me, the creator have been on. But that's a longer story than I can get into here. For now, I hope there is something in this audio-series for you. It's about vampires, but ultimately it's about recovery, from trauma, from alcoholism, even from cults. It asks: Does time really heal all wounds? Featuring VAs known for Valorant, Diablo IV & Overwatch

Written and performed by Hugo Pierre Martin!

The Cryptid Factor

Three best buddies - Rhys Darby, Dan Schreiber, and Leon 'Buttons' Kirkbeck bring you The Cryptid Factor - a podcast dedicated to all things weird that are yet to be defined by science. Since 2008 they have passionately (and often awkwardly) been discussing 'cryptids' and monsters like Yeti, Chupacabra, Bigfoot and Nessie - as well as weird news of the world, UFO's, Time travellers, robots and space stuff. Though they take these pseudosciences as seriously as they can, they struggle to take themselves seriously at all. Hosted by comedian and actor Rhys Darby, star of top rating podcast 'No Such Thing as a Fish' Dan Schreiber - and Pulling it all together is their best friend, 'Buttons'. If anything goes wrong, it is probably his fault.

Rhys Darby is one of the hosts!

Date My Abuelita, First!

From Executive Producer Wilmer Valderrama comes a dating show that proves abuelita knows best! Host Vico Ortiz alongside our resident abuelita, Liliana are ready to meet their match! Three single contestants will compete for a date with one lucky guest. Through speed-dating rounds, hilarious games, wildly silly and genuinely heartfelt introspections, and grandmotherly love, one contestant will either be a step closer to love or be sent back to the apps. Abuelita holds all the cupid power, so let the chispas fly!

Vico Ortiz is one of the hosts!

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babycharmander · 1 year ago

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TW ANTISEMITISM. THERE WILL BE DEPICTIONS OF ANTISEMITIC ARTWORK AND TEXT IN THIS POST.

Okay so, this is not the kind of post I normally make, ever, nor a sort of post I ever wanted to make. But this is an incredibly important issue that goes beyond fandom stuff, and I've talked with a few other people about it to confirm that it is something concerning.

I want to start by saying that I am not Jewish, but I know that you should never let antisemitism get its foot in the door. (If anyone who reads this is Jewish and needs to correct me on anything, please do so immediately.)

This was posted to the tags yesterday:

[ID: A screenshot of a post from @/liu4ka. The caption at the top reads "well he looks at me / and i look at him / and then he smiles" in very small, stylized text. The image below is artwork of Otto, facing right, with his eyes squinted and his mouth in a skewed, toothy grin, with his hands held up in a strange way. /end ID]

This picture looks perfectly fine at first glance... but the thing is, that caption you see there was not the original caption. I managed to get a screenshot of it before it was changed, and the original caption was this:

[ID: A screenshot of the original caption of the above post, which reads "well he looks at me / and i look at him / and then he smiles like sly jew" /end ID]

That's... a weird way to describe a smile. I'd wondered if this was referencing something, and apparently the first two lines are lyrics from a Weird Al song, but the third line is definitely not. That was making alarm bells ring in my mind, along with the pose Otto was in (which I'll explain in a moment).

Still, I wanted to give this user the benefit of a doubt, because it's entirely possible to unknowingly say something that sounds Bad. So I looked at their other account on VK (which is a Russian website that is, as I understand it, similar to Facebook--they have the same name there and post some of the same art). It didn't take me long before I found... this (photo taken with the google translate app). (I hate sharing this, but I need to show proof here):

[ID: A photo of a computer screen taken from the Google Translate app. It features a character facing right, with their eyes narrowed and with a toothy grin on their face and their hands clasped in a specific way in reference to the "happy merchant" Nazi meme. The caption reads "SCARY JEWISH MUSIC PLAYS." /end ID]

It's not in the screenshot here, but the post this was in also had a song linked with it whose title directly referenced the "happy merchant" meme.

If you're not familiar with that meme, please look it up, as I'm NOT comfortable putting that image on my blog. But it's an image people should be familiar with because it is VERY FREQUENTLY referenced by white supremacists and nazis, and that's what's being referenced here.

Obviously not every single piece of art with a character giving a sly look is going to be a reference to that meme, but CONTEXT is important. The Otto image isn't posed exactly like the meme--the hands are not the same--but alongside the original caption AND given the other art this same artist has drawn, I don't think there's any room for doubt here.

What also doesn't help the case is that there was misinformation going around that Otto was canonically Jewish, so I don't think any of this is coincidental.

I feel awful writing this stuff up. I never wanted to make a post like this, but this was a case where I felt like I should not remain quiet. Once again, this is something that goes beyond fandom. Antisemitism is not something you ever, EVER want let through the door, ANYWHERE. I do not want it in this community, and you shouldn't either.

If any member of the Jewish community wants to correct me on anything or add to this, please do so.

Thank you.

#psychonauts #psychonauts 2 #tw antisemitism

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beyondtheglowingstars · 1 year ago

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A tough nut to crack

Pairing: Ravio x GN reader and Legend x GN reader (Not poly) Word count: 2.6k General info: You meet Ravio and get along with him well, Legend is less than happy that Ravio is flirting with you.

Excitement circulated from every vein in your body as your group was nearing Legend’s house. Hearing several accounts from the other Links about all the different and unique artifacts Legend had collected over the years was enough to let you know it was no ordinary house, and it made you get lost in thoughts about what sort of items you’d find there. Not only that, but you’d also have the chance to take a proper rest and your legs were aching for one.

If the others weren’t lying, there was a lot to see at The Veteran’s. Oh, and you’d also get to meet Ravio, but the Vet didn’t look too thrilled when telling you about his counterpart. No matter, you couldn’t wait to see what was awaiting you.

Legend opened the door to his house unceremoniously, a serious expression over his features as he told you all for the hundredth time that day to be careful, and shot non-subtle glances at Wind in specific. You heard a surprised sound from inside the structure after the door was parted open, and the person inside approached Vet.

“Oh, it has been a long time since your last visit! And you’re still with your friends, I see?” You assumed that the man in purple garbs that made his way to Legend had to be none other than Ravio himself.

“Yes, but we’re just here to rest for a day and pick up some stuff before hitting the road again.” Replied the hero with pink streaks in his hair.

At this point, the other members of the group were starting to roam the house of their comrade, a few of them almost as comfortable as if it were their own home. You were only half-listening to the conversation Legend was having with his friend, figuring that it would be a while before you got to properly meet Ravio or talk to Legend again. Entertaining yourself in the unknown house proved to not be a problem, however, as several flashy objects you had never seen before instantly caught your attention.

A loud ‘bang’ on one corner of the house had everyone turning their heads in the direction of the sound, Legend didn’t think twice about storming off towards the perpetrator, which seemed to be Wind this time as he chuckled and ran away from the angry hero. About to dash after the youngest member in the group and make him pay for whatever he touched, something had stopped Legend in his tracks.

“And who may those beautiful eyes belong to?” Your head turned to find the person that said those words.

That voice was unmistakably Ravio’s. And no doubt that compliment was directed at you when you considered he was slowly advancing towards you, no one else was nearby and beautiful green irises were fully locked on your form. The blush spreading over your face was unavoidable once you fully registered the implications of the words, but you weren’t the only one left in this state as Ravio had a faint hint of pink over his features as well.

“I’m (Y/N), nice to meet you.” The grin spread across your cheeks couldn’t be bigger.

An equally bright smile was mirrored on the merchant’s face at your reply

“That name compliments your beauty so well. I’m Ravio.” He animatedly bowed before you and when he came back up to meet your eyes, he held a proud grin that was close to basically radiating.

Your interaction drew everyone’s eyes to your direction. Eyes that you couldn’t really notice at that moment watched intently for the next move. But the momentary gazes dispersed right as Ravio held your hand and dragged you to the kitchen while asking you several questions to know you better and told you more about himself. Legend put a hand to his forehead in annoyance and sighed, the exchange was close to giving him a headache. The captain had slowly inched closer to the Vet and lightly elbowed him on the arm.

“Looks like you’ve got some competition.”

When Legend looked at the captain, he was met with smug eyebrows. He heard Wind and Wild trying to suppress laughter behind him, and he groaned.

“Shut. Up.” He gave Warriors the most intimidating look he could muster at the moment, but it was to no avail.

“But there’s still a chance. If you ever need advice on how to get your precious (Y/N) back, I’m your man.”

A surge of blood raced to his face and settled on his cheeks, he hoped the blue-scarfed hero didn’t notice. The full, untamed laughter of Wind and Wild made his annoyance intensify and he took a deep breath as an attempt to reclaim his composure. Legend stormed off to his chests to inspect his items and just get this over with, not even looking back at Warriors or anyone else for that matter.

He heard your chatter with Ravio, and while he wanted to ignore it, his mind wouldn’t let him. Even as he shuffled through his belongings, the conversation was ever present in his head and wouldn’t leave him at peace, like a mosquito bite when it starts itching.

Back to the section of the house with you and the merchant, as you came to learn what he was, he’s been looking for something through the cupboards and other storage locations in the kitchen. You were left clueless as to what he could be looking for like a rodent searching through trash without success.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything? When was the last time you ate?”

“I’m fine, thank you. I ate breakfast this morning.” You told Ravio once again that you weren’t hungry. He seemed to finally understand that you really, weren’t malnourished and didn’t need to eat right now.

“If you say so, but at least let me make something special for my new guest! What about some tea?”

Right as Legend was going to tell Ravio to stop pestering you, he heard your reply, which irritated him further.

“Sure! Thank you, Ravio.”

Legend tried to pay it no mind, hoping that he seemed casual enough in his body language while looking through the chest. When his efforts proved futile, he gave up and sat down on a stray chair as he no longer had the energy or motivation to continue his search or chastise anyone that touched the wrong object. He would simply blame Time and Twilight for doing a bad job at supervising the group. But most of the chain had settled down by now, to the Vet’s relief, as some of them chatted with one another; unfortunately he still had to endure hearing your conversation with his counterpart in the meantime.

The sound of flapping broke through the air, making Legend look up as Sheerow flew above him. The bird flew stationary right next to Ravio’s head and let out a chirp as if announcing his presence, the avian held a motionless face but even still, you could feel those black eyes stare at you in curiosity.

“I almost forgot, this right here is my friend, Sheerow! He’s a real one, let me tell you. Seems like he just woke up from his nap and really wanted to meet you!”

You stared in surprise as Sheerow mimicked every one of Ravio’s over-animated body sways that he did during regular speech, the strangest thing to you was how the bird was able to replicate the movements simultaneously with his owner’s. Not that you had much time to question how something like that was possible as the mass of white and light blue feathers flapped in front of your face. Ravio watched the interaction with the same excitement a child being given candy would. The avian perched himself on your shoulder, sitting on it.

“Ooooh, he likes you!” Ravio practically beamed and swung his body side to side in content. Your giggles uncontrollable after watching the whole scene.

“Not that I doubted he’d get along with a lovely person such as yourself, but seeing this is way better than I thought it would be!”

Another compliment had you voicing a ‘Thanks’ just audible enough for Ravio to catch, but this time, Legend also heard it; courtesy of his ever vigilant ears. The Hero of Legend half-snarled to himself at what he heard.

He couldn’t sit through this anymore, The Vet abruptly stood up from his seat and made his way outside with a stride that emitted a silent message that read ‘don’t talk to me’ that everyone inside the house seemed to have figuratively read. The front door was shockingly not slammed shut after the unamused hero closed it without looking. The air turned still and it became coated with a fog of tension that couldn’t be seen, but was definitely felt; even for those that hadn’t really paid any mind to Legend, or whatever had been happening outside their immediate range. The house was silent for a couple seconds before conversation slowly resumed.

“Oh, Link. He’s so kind-hearted and brave most of the time, but you can’t tell what’s going on in that mysterious head of his half the time.” Ravio shook his head in disappointment mixed with a twinge of sadness.

“I swear, and I’ve told him before that his stubbornness and shielded heart will be the end of him. That thing is guarded way better than any castle!”

You could only exchange glances with Ravio with a look of clear understanding for what he said as you knew very well what he was talking about, the concern shared between the both of you.

“I would talk to him myself, but for all I know, I might be the last person he wants to see. That’s the problem.”

“I could go and ask him.” You suggested, Sheerow hopped off your shoulder and settled to flying in place next to Ravio. You would question how a bird understood you the same way a human would, but there were more pressing matters at hand.

“Then, I wish you good luck. Hopefully you can get through that thick armor of his.” The merchant gave your bicep a reassuring squeeze and his face offered a soft smile.

You made your way to the front door, carefully closing it behind you before quickly searching for Legend. He was clearly not at the front of his house, you would have seen him by now. Silently walking to the back of the structure and there lies the hero, sitting on the ground with his legs extended, back leaning against the wall. Your presence doesn’t go unnoticed as he catches sight of your peeking face from the corner, he averts his eyes fast while shifting around anxiously.

No point in hiding now, you were spotted. You take cautious steps towards the hero, stopping beside him with a question.

“Can I sit with you?” Legend visibly tensed at your question, but very subtly nodded in approval.

Sitting down next to the hero and making yourself comfortable, you let go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding. What came next was of no surprise to either of you, Legend knew what was gonna happen in the next few seconds.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, just wanted some fresh air.” The Veteran stated, in his best effort to sound genuine and not like he was one minute away from wilting flowers and plants with a single look of his.

You didn’t want to assume anything, much less annoy Legend with your prying but his body language and mannerisms were incredibly telling that he might as well have a sign stuck on his face that read ‘I’m upset’.

“Something’s bothering you.” It wasn’t a question, it was an assertion.

“I don’t want you to be upset, I just want to help you.” You continued, placing your hand on Legend’s shoulder in a reassuring manner, half-expecting to have accidentally upset him further and be demanded you leave.

But that didn’t become real at all, the hero relaxed his body and let out a sigh, not minding the close distance. He properly looked at you this time, like you were really holding a conversation.

“I’m not upset, it’s just…” He paused, opening and closing his mouth as he searched for those words that wouldn’t show themselves in his head.

He couldn’t tell you. He didn��t want to dig his own grave by telling you what was the real issue; and neither did he want to paint Ravio in a negative light because he was acting like a kid that didn’t yet know how to handle his own emotions, it wouldn’t be fair to his friend, even if he wanted to strangle him with his scarf in that moment.

“Just forget about it.” He exclaimed, his words and aura listless as he told you.

“If you won’t tell me, is there something I can do to help you?” Your brows furrowed in determination of hoping to achieve something, and Legend got that message clear.

He averted his eyes and absentmindedly trembled one of his legs. Would you make fun of him for such a childish request? Would you stop liking him because it made him seem clingy? Would you later go to the rest of the group and gossip about him with unforgiving judgement? Or was he unconsciously making unfounded assumptions and scenarios in his head again, after you had shown yourself incapable of doing any of what he had came up with just a few seconds ago? Guilt instantaneously washed inside of him and overflowed through his pores.

Legend swallowed thickly, directing a quick glance in your direction and found patience staring back at him. He regained control of his breathing, choosing to bite the bullet just this once.

“I just want to spend more time with you.” Had you been any further away and you would have missed his words in a tone close to a whisper.

“You could have told me that earlier! Don’t tell anyone, but you’re my favorite.”

Your response made him breathe deeply, relief took over his restless state of mind. And for the first time that day, his lips curved into a genuine smile and he chuckled.

A/N: AAaaaaah I couldn't resist writing more tsundere Legend after having this idea marinating in my head for nearly a week. Pls help him get used to opening up, he's a troubled soul, also I love that skrunkly man Ravioli if you couldn't tell.

#linked universe x reader #lu legend x reader #lu ravio x reader #lu legend #lu ravio #linked universe #legend x reader #cosmic writing

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smuttyaf · 1 year ago

Text

SouthSide Serpent

Word Count: 4.8k

Rating: R

features; childhood friends to lovers, loverboy ashton, literally ashton has been pining for y/n, & sum good old smut :)

a/n: idek what to say but hi! i’ve been in retirement for like 4 years and rediscovered this account. i got nostalgic & decided… shit why not write again?

please cut me sum slack tho! i wrote this on my notes app & it’s been years since i’ve written so i would love to hear feedback!

& yes i am hella descriptive and like to build suspense! i can’t help it >.<

also! y/n is heavily based on serena from mtv downtown ( i love her ) & this picture of ashton ( xx )

The crisp October breeze blew through your hair as the dull taste of your cigarette burns on your tongue; your forefinger and middle finger clenching the nicotine filled paper and pressing it against your lips, drawing in the vapour.

Your head nods along to the music playing before you just two doors down on the opposite side of your street. There was Ashton and his band, either playing covers of their current favourite songs, oldies, or new ones that they’ve all come together and created.

The usual guitar flow and drum beat of Maps by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs blasted through the speakers in the garage as the sound of Luke’s voice sang along on top of the tune.

You hum along to the lyrics as you glared in the direction, your lips peeling away from the filter and letting the smoke settle in your lungs before releasing it. The four boys were all dressed in their usual attire: white shirt, black trousers, beat up old chunky Doc Martins, and their signature SouthSide Serpents leather jackets.

As the wind picks up again you let your free hand tear away from your windowsill and tug the flying strays of your hair in front of your face behind your ear, the chipped black polish on your almond nails coming into view as you remind yourself you needed to get them done.

The bridge of the song is now blaring down the street, causing you to raise your cigarette back to your lips and think to yourself, what a coincidence this song is playing; the lyrics, the time frame, and the memories that all come flowing back as you hear the familiar melody.

It was 2009 and Ashton had invited you over during Christmas break to play Garage Band since Santa gifted it to him because that was the only thing he asked for on his wish list. You were both 8, banging on the drums and singing songs that you both were too young to know or remember from when your parents would play them on the drive home from school. But, for some reason this is the song that stuck with you both the most. Maybe it was the easy lyrics or the amazing beat but from then on it had you hooked to this alternative sound.

Now fast forward to a year ago, your now ex boyfriend Xavier was laying on your bed, finger pads heavy weight on your skin as he drew sloppy hearts on your hip. The wire of the headphones tangled between your shoulder and his wrist as you both listened to his playlist. The familiar intro notes to the song beginning to ring throughout the buds and the tug of your maroon lined lips turn into a smile.

“Already like the song?” He asked, brown eyes rested on top of dark circles scattered with freckles as he smirked down at you.

“I love it.” You sheepishly said.

The wind knocks you back into reality as it pushes through your window again, only making you remember how much you loved October; the weather changing, leaves blooming, smell of the rain just before it hit the concrete, the sound of the leaves dragging along the pavement, and the endless horror movie marathons that would run on AMC.

The orange, brown, and green leaves spin in the breeze and rustle along the branches as the sun stood brightly among the houses along the horizon. From your view on the windowsill you can see houses upon houses before you see the local water tower and old plazas that scream they need new merchant signs and fresh cement.

Your eyes flick to the lonesome string popping out of your black long sleeve before the sound of your phone’s text tone goes off, your eyes darting to the message running across the screen.

Stop watching me

Ashton’s text read, making you roll your eyes before placing them on the dark hair boy who had a goofy grin on his face from your view, his drum sticks were stuffed in one had and the other held his lit up phone.

With a smile on yours, you let the hand that rested in the crook of your neck tear away from the warm flesh and your middle finger stand in the air as a response.

Clothes were thrown in every direction of your room as you let your eyes drag along your frame in the mirror, your loose knitted black sweater hung off one of your shoulders as low waisted charcoal jogging pants rested on your hips. Your hair was in its loose waves as your curtain bangs swept against your temples, your fingers curling into themselves in frustration as you tried to not stress over how you look.

You didn’t want to over enhance your appearance to see Xavier since he wanted to meet up to get “closure” -even though he was the one who called it off despite your many pleas- but you wanted to make him feel bad for even deciding to drop you.

A frustrated sigh left your wine stained lips before turning around and sticking your feet into your ruined Converse. The low muffled sound of Xavier’s Prelude is heard out your window and you feel your heart drop.

You never understood why you always felt this way about him and why you couldn’t just get over this stupid boy who likes to break up with you every other month, a new reason every single time. The constant tears, text threads, and blocking to unblocking seemed to never get exhausting to you because you were always back in the same place, wondering if you overdressed to see your ex for closure.

The chime of Xavier’s specific text tone rings through your room and you already know what it says, so without checking you twisted your foot into your shoe to fit perfectly before you reach over and grasp your phone in your hand and tug your way to the window sill. Fingers pressing the frame up and letting the fall air sweep into your room before crouching down and fitting yourself through the frame and safely scale down the roof, onto the sturdy vine wall filled with dead clematis that prickled on your palms the way down before your feet landed on the short cut grass.

As you turned away from the wall and begin tugging your feet towards the black coupe, your eyes catch on the tall frame standing on their front step as an amber light glows slightly illuminating his face. You already know this is Ashton, so with a slight smile you let your index finger rest against your coated lips, a gesture to him to be quiet.

The only response he gives is his head nodding off to the side with smoke trailing out of his mouth.

The smile quickly falls as your fingers clench the car door handle and tug it open, the smell of him crashing down on you as you sit in the familiar leather, the hum of the engine vibrating under you as the car peels off.

The tinge of tequila burned on your buds as you felt the room spinning, the sound of chatter and shouts are heard from below you as the bass of Destroy Lonely’s song can be heard in the room you barged into when you gave up on waiting for Tabitha; who said she wouldn’t be long with the curly haired new kid in her history class.

Red solo cup was loosely clenched in your right hand as left was lazily running through your hair at random moments as you laid against the cottage floral bed sheets.

Here you were, back in the same spot you always found yourself in: drunk, heartbroken, and thinking about a boy who doesn’t even care about you. The constant routine of wanting him, then wanting to be far away but craving him every other second burned into your heart. The comfort and familiarity of him that you missed always overlooked every excuse he gave you whenever he broke things off.

Last month he said he needed time to himself, this month he told you that he was confused and didn’t know what he wanted; frankly he lost feelings for you, at least that was what he says now. Those words kept on replaying in your mind as if that was your favourite song. The way he sounded emotionless yet unsure that, that was what he really wanted.

And just with those thoughts, tears were flowing down your temples. Eyes blurring as the voice replayed in your head, the memory of him sitting beside you and saying that, to then recollect memories of how sweet and endearing the boy you loved in the beginning grew cold to your touch and looked into your hopeful eyes with detached ones.

The popcorn ceiling was fuzzy in your sight as the tears spill over your waterline and beads down the sides of your face. You already knew your cheeks were heated up, the liner and eyeshadow that was occupying your bottom lashes was smudged and probably slipping away with the liquid as a sniffle wrinkled through your nose.

God you hated this; the empty feeling of missing someone who you know you shouldn’t want but yet crave so badly. Why him? Why you?

As you were deep in thought you hear the rustle of the door knob before it turns and the music that pours from outside reaches into the empty depths of the room, the sound of footsteps halting and a sharp intake of breath being heard, but you don’t dare look away at the ceiling. Frankly, you could care less about who sees you crying your eyes out on this outdated duvet with ruined make up.

“Fuck my bad!… Wait Y/N?” The recognizable voice of your childhood friend is heard before the door is closing shut.

The weight of him sinks next to you on the bed as you let your eyes close and the final stream of tears leave your eyes.

“I look desperate don’t I.” You state, voice raspy from the strain in your throat as the usual feeling of a ball is formed.

“I think you look sad,” He points out, making you snort as the hand that was lazily playing in your hair tears away and feels the sheet below you.

“No shit,” You mumble before letting your eyes peel open.

“You and Xavier broke up again?” Ashton questions, the sound of his zippers clashing from his jacket as he shuffles around.

You only hum in response before you let both of your arms sit you up on the bed, your back standing straight as your hands cradle the solo cup. Your eyes stare down at your ruined pantyhose beneath your mini lace black skirt before they flicker to look at the hazel boy.

Eyes connecting with yours, you hear his breath hitch as he draws in your appearance. Cheeks with a glow of cherry red sweeping the bones under your eyes that are damp with black eyeshadow, your eyes were still puffy and red rimmed as they batted slowly up at him.

“He doesn’t know what he wants,” You let out, your eyes rolling before letting your plum coloured lips take a sip of the warm mixture of Pepsi and tequila.

“Oh?” He says in confusion, bushy eyebrows coming together trying to figure out how that could be since he saw you two together three nights ago.

“I’m so sick of being with these screwed up guys all the time,” You state, hand tearing away from the cup to dig your nails into the rips of your stockings.

“Really?”

“I have such crummy luck or taste? What is it with girls like me? All a guy has to say is, he can’t express his feelings or he listens to Deftones and it’s like my head tips right over and my brain start to slip out of my ear.”

Ashton lets out laugh, the beer bottle he’s holding by the neck resting on his knee as he stares down at you. “So which one is Xavier?”

“Both,” You scoff while sticking out your tongue in disgust.

“You know… if you wanted to, I’m sure you could have a different great guy to go out with every night,” Ashton assures, a smirk tugging on your lips as you decide to ignore the glint of promise in his eyes.

“No way, I’ve always been a mess. Remember Cleo?” Your second boyfriend that seemed to be stuck on your hip but ironically found someway to cheat on you every weekend yet you still dumbly went back to him every. single. time.

The feeling of your sheer button up rubs against your arm as you let your hand fall against your hip and feel your black crop top tight to your skin.

“Maybe you just need to talk to someone who isn’t your usual type,” Ashton points out. Your head nods a few beats as your thick wedged heeled boots run over the wooden flooring.

“Maybe I’ll be luckier if I tried dating someone nice for a change,” Voice hopeful as your eyes dart away from the bubbly dark liquid into Ashton’s brown hues.

“Nice guys,” Ashton says with a smile, both of his hands tearing away from his knees as if to gesture to himself in this equation.

A laugh escapes your lips before your eyes run over Ashton’s frame from head to toe.

“What are you getting at Irwin?” You say with a pointed brow, playing stupid to the implication.

“Oh nothing..” He sings while tearing his eyes from yours, toothy smile still spread on his lips before he takes a swing of his beer.

You shake your head with annoyance before your hazy eyes look down at your lap, your hands resting on the cup and drumming a random tune.

“Honestly Y/N… I think you’re a really great girl and…. I just think maybe…” His words a scrambled mess and trailing off. You smile to yourself before turning to look back at him.

“Mm?” You question, the fifteen percent liquor coursing through your bloodstream and giving you confidence as you lean into this chest, eyes never tearing away from his. Because if Ashton was going to give you hopeful eyes and stuttering speeches you might as well put the ‘nice guy’ to the test and see if he was really about what he said.

That only made his lips break into a smirk, his tongue sneakily gladding along his bottom lip to wet it before looking into you daringly.

That only made you squish your plucked eyebrows together in question. How did the stuttering boy from just a view seconds ago all of a sudden turn cocky and confident? How many drinks did he have? Or was it the weed that clung to his jacket that gave him the boost.

“I think you should give me a chance,” He nips back, and before you can even respond to him, you watch his neck crane down and press his lips against yours.

The crisp taste of his beer stung your lips as they opened and immediately danced along with his tongue. White liquor and brown meeting together to taste each other and leave an acquired flavour in your mouths.

You hummed along to the feeling of his tongue circling against yours before peeling away and molding your lips to sink against each other. Your heart was beating through your chest, nails now digging into your plastic cup and head ducked back as you continue to press your mouth against his.

The feeling of his cold hand pressing against your neck caused you to shudder and tear away from his lips for a second, your eyes peeling open as they look in front of you. Black hair loosely falling on his forehead, the smell of his husky cologne clogging your senses, and the feeling of his fingers now dancing along the back of your neck.

“What are we doing Ash?” You breathe against his lips.

“Something that I’ve always wanted to do,” He says, making your heart launch. You bite down on your bruised lip and tear your eyes away from his, your stomach twist as you try and gain some self control as you almost fling yourself on top of him.

Something that he always wanted to do? You never really found yourself desirable to the point we’re men would see you in that type of light? But maybe what Ash said was just a simple lie, just so he can get what he wants and frankly you don’t even care. You’ve heard lies your whole entire life when it came to boys and this wasn’t any different, maybe you should just let your mind shut off from your stupid ex and just be in the moment for once.

So with that final thought, not having a care in the world, you drop the red cup in your hand and let your lips launch back onto his. Ashton follows your movements and the sound of the nearly empty beer bottle drops onto the hard wood, his right hand now resting along your neck as you both kiss each other.

Warm breaths, beating hearts and the sound of music is the only thing heard in the room as you lick into each others mouths. Soon you feel the weight of Ashton nudging you to lay back on the bed as he lies on top, you feel the cold zippers from his jacket press against your skin and all you can do is moan.

The feeling of his left hand tears away from the hairs on the nape of your neck and dance down your collar bone before letting it cup your breast in his hand, kneading the soft tissue which only makes another moan slip through you.

He pulls away from your lips and begins to suck and press kisses along your pulse, your hands that lie by your side now running up the sleeves of his jacket and into his hair.

A whimper spills out as you feel his hand tug your tank down and free your naked breast, he engulfs it in his cold palm making you let a shaky breath escape before you’re curling your fingers in his hair, the feeling of him twisting your nipple makes you bite down on your bottom lip. The pleasurable pain you feel running up your spine making your shoulders slightly buck off the bed.

“Hmm…” Ashton hums in your neck before tearing away, his eyes once such a light brown and green hue, now a chestnut and forest green colour filled with lust.

Your fingers tug away from his hair as he now descends down your body, his warm lips pressing kisses to your exposed skin as you let your hands tear your blouse and tank off. Your eyes never leaving his as he watches you undress. His lips now press against your pieced belly button as his fingers tear away from your chest and roughly takes your skirt by the band and peels it down your hips, your stockings following soon after.

Not wasting a moment he lets his mouth press against you covered core, lips pressing small kisses against your heat making you quietly moan. You wanted so desperately to tug Ashton into you and make him start devouring you right there but instead you let your hands trail back into his hair and play around with his locks.

Small kisses soon turn into open mouth licks, his wet muscle running up and down your clothed slit that it had your head digging back into the sheets, your legs spreading wider and whimpers endlessly trailing out.

“Ash.. please..” The words slip out so quiet that you assume he didn’t hear from the pulsing music below you, but instead your met with the feeling of his finger pulling your panties to the side and his tongue finally meeting you were you desired.

It circles around your clit gently before you feel his lips suck it into his mouth, a moan drawls from your throat due to the sensation. Soon enough, he’s letting his mouth discover the way you taste which only elects a moan from him. His tongue now dipping in between your two lips and curling around your insides.

“Oh my,” You moan as your fingers dig into his hair, eyes closing shut as you begin to slowly move your hips to the movement of his tongue.

The feeling of his right hand breaks away from your thigh and flows to your hips, his nails leaving small indents as you feel his other hand move away from your panty and rub against your clit.

The feeling of him humming against you sends a vibrating pleasure down your back as he continues to lick you, this only made your toes curl and your hands to fall out of his hair and onto his leather shoulders.

“Fuck,” You moan, your hands tugging him gently away from you as you feel your climax about to overcome your nerves.

And just as you feel it on the tip of your toes, the mouth between your legs pulls away beginning to press wet kisses up your thigh, his hand that once laid against your heat now meeting with the other at your hips.

A groan leaves you as your eyes tear open and look down at him. He mischievously looks up at you, his kisses now run up your stomach once again to lead to your neck.

“Upset?” He teases, only making you shudder at the rasp in his voice.

“I want you Ash,” You say breathlessly, turning your head to knock his out the way and look him in the eyes. “Please,” You utter, fingers now leaving his shoulders and brushing against his rip cage covered by his white tee.

Without any hesitation, Ashton is pulling away from your embrace and leaning back. He shrugs off his jacket, tugs his shirt over his head, his fingers going to the back of his baggy jeans to pull out his wallet to dig through before you see a gold package flash. If your cheeks could burn any brighter they differently would.

The mixture of his clothes and yours are strung through out the room, both of your shoes kicked to the bottom of the bed as he now shuffles his way back up to his original position.

Without question your hand meets the band of his boxers as you begin to inch them down his waist, wanting to return the favour.

“I think that can wait love, I rather be in you right now,” He breathes against your neck, only making your heart stutter. A sheepish smile tugs at your lips as you feel him twist around and lay on his side, his hands laying on your hips, turning you into the same position.

Your head rested on his arm as your back laid against his chest, hips aligned with each other as the feeling of his smell overcomes you. His knees prop up your legs as you hear the tearing of the condom package.

Deciding to distract yourself you let your eyes fall looking at Ashton. His black hair a tossed mess from your fingers, hazel eyes drawn to wear you both meet as he begins to run his member against your heat.

A whimper leaves your lips as you close your eyes when you feel him push inside, his hand now propping up your thigh as he eases into you.

He nudges your head forward and begins sucking kisses down the expanse of your neck, the feeling of his heart beating against your back and the smell of his sweat mixed with his cologne was filling your nose.

“Feels so good,” He mumbles against your skin, his arm that rested under your head turning slightly as he runs his hand against your wrist and takes your fingers into his, lacing them together as you continue to feel him stretch you out.

You never expected Ashton to have a thick piece but you also didn’t expect to be in this exact position right now, literally. Your childhood friend having his way with you while you were both drunk off each other and the alcohol in your systems.

His hips meet your backside before drawing back and pushing back in, your walls expanding with each thrust as you feel him begin a good pace. Moans begin to fall from your mouth, your eyes fluttering open every few seconds as your skin burns from the bruises soon to appear on your pulse from the black haired man beside you, skin still stuck to his lips.

“You’re moans are so pretty,” He breathes against you, his hand that was holding up your thigh runs up your hips to your chest, letting your leg fall as he takes one of your breasts and squeezes it gently.

All you can do is hum at his words because you’re too overstimulated to speak. The feeling of his thickness drawing in and out of you so heavily has you nodding off at the sensation, his fingers intertwined with yours beings to squeeze them together as the hand that was on your breast meets with his head at your neck.

“You like me fucking you,” He says into your ear as his hand squeezes your throat gently.

You nod your head as you feel your eyes slip close, and you were completely wrecked. He was so dirty yet gentle with you, peppering you with kisses yet digging into you so devilishly that it had your mind distraught.

“You like the way I feel inside you,” He continues, his hand growing more tight around your throat.

“Ash…” You say breathlessly, as your hand that rested against the bed sheets rises up and places it against the one making you breathless but encouraging your climax.

“Mm I like the way you feel around me,” He eggs on, and that makes you cry out, your back pushing pack and meeting his hips.

The feeling of your stomach twitching and legs quivering to close makes your head tip back even more against Ashton as you feel your orgasm on the brink.

That has him taking his hand away from your throat and slips it to lift your thigh back up as he continues to thrust into you, his lips press more kisses against your neck.

Your toes curl as the knot in your stomach expands and releases, the satisfying sensation washing over you as you let a deep breath break through your lips with a moan.

“Fuck,” Ashton hisses as he feels you twitch around him, the contractions from your high throwing him into his; his hips stutter before rocking back into you slowly, teeth gently digging into your skin, his breath being blown over the expanse of it.

The thickness of him slips out which causes your eyes to open, his hand dropping your thigh to wrap around your hips as his head buries into your neck.

The room is quiet for a moment as the only thing that can be heard is your hearts calming down and the chatter from down below.

“I would give you more kisses but I’ve made a mess on your neck,” His voice vibrates against you, that only makes you let out a broken laugh.

“I don’t even wanna know what it looks like,” You reply, your hand that rested on the duvet linking with his that rest along your stomach.

This felt nice, the amazing sex and cuddling session after. The room just being quiet and the only thing that can be heard is your breaths and beating hearts. This was so spontaneous that you still can’t even wrap your mind around what happened.

“How would you feel about doing this more often?” Ashton says after a few minutes, his chest moving as he pulls his head away from your neck to lie back against the pillows.

Having casual sex with him? You ponder on the idea. It was definitely one of the best you have ever had, he felt amazing and checked off every box when it came to how to please you. You couldn’t even lie and say that you didn’t find Ash attractive, you are also now officially single, free to due what we you wanted, so fuck it.

“Like… Friends with benefits?” You say, your thumb running against his hand still linked with yours by your head.

“Yeah, friends with benefits,” He confirms.

You let your head swish from side to side as you feel the burning sensation of his love bites strain against your neck as you let out a sarcastic hum to yourself as if you’re thinking it over.

“I wouldn’t mind that.”

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williamkisser · 5 months ago

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✰— AD or Aga, he/she, 17, 🇵🇱, mainly old movies and Identity V —✰

✰— Writing masterlist and request rules 🐌

Hello all my name’s Ad and I mainly post about old movies and Identity V 🍨

Last time updated: 23.07

✰— my favourite actress is Pola Negri, so i’m sure most of my posts will be featuring her. My favourite movie starring Pola is Mazurka (1935). I love finding & sharing new photos, fun facts and stories related to her. Besides, i am currently on my way to watch more Hollywood classics, both silent and with voice. I haven’t watched enough movies yet to have more favourite actors, but besides her i also love Kay Francis and Jadwiga Smosarska. My username on Letterboxd is agusia6, feel free to add me.

✰— my favourite IDV character is the Forward, as you probably guessed - i main him and also Toy Merchant & The Mind’s Eye. I’ve been playing since late December (season 30) but i unfortunately lost my account 😔 I took a two month break and now i’m back! Feel free to add me :) 21508411 (NaEu)

✰— I mainly became active on Tumblr as an IDV writer, that’s where i got most of my followers from, but i stopped writing some time before april. I’m not saying i retired forever - actually i just posted a few headcanons - but for now i’m not doing any regular writing and therefore i won’t put a masterlist on here. If you want to access my work check out my old account: @williaml0ver

✰— i am also a collector. I own old paintings and movie posters. I would like to scan and share them on here but i have to fix my camera first lol. My favourite artist is Tamara Łempicka.

✰— my music taste is rather varied. I listen to mainly Polish music but i also like a lot of western singers like Kylie Minogue, Donna Summer or Bjork. I’m also into jpop, cpop and a little tpop, vpop and kpop. I also like t.a.t.u a lot. I think my favourite decade in music would be the 70s.

✰— i’m very into history roughly from 1500s to 1940s. I’m very keen on portraiture and historically accurate fashion.

✰— i love interacting with people on here 😗 i’m a self declared inbox clogger……. I’m sure a few victims can confirm….. if you want me to regularly appear in your inbox hit me up i would love to. I also have a discord account so feel free to add me, my username is genyasmetana.

I support Ukraine and Palestine. Just don’t follow me if you are weird, i don’t like terfs and tankies. I don’t have issues with adult people interacting with me unless *most* of your content is nsfw.

My pookies 😘😳😎💯

@fishermanshook

@megurinelesbian

@ohthejealousy

@thekeeperofdreams

@rieuvie

@inferencesarchives

@lririx

@jklovu

@ddenryu

@vihntage000

@uncrustablenaib

@not-nikolai

@laceadornedvampire

blinkie by @theweepingclown 🐸

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acceptccnow · 1 year ago

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Innovations in Credit Repair Payment Gateway Integration

Article by Jonathan Bomser | CEO | Accept-Credit-Cards-Now.com

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Looking ahead, accepting credit cards for e-commerce remains a cornerstone. Innovations in payment gateway integration ensure your customers can transact seamlessly, fostering trust and loyalty. The future of accepting credit cards is bright, with continuous advancements in technology. Payment gateways will continue to evolve, offering enhanced features and security measures. Staying up-to-date with these innovations positions your business to thrive in the ever-changing landscape of e-commerce.

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earenwen-leafwhisper · 2 years ago

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A tragedy

Abstract: Or how an arranged marriage can end in tragedy, it wasn’t that Y/n didn’t love Lord Tyrell, but his heart was already taken by a dragon.

Pairing : Daemon Tragaryen x chubby reader , Lord Tyrell x chubby reader

Tigger warning : Death of characters (not graphic), sad reader, lost of child.

It was several weeks that Y/n of the Y/h/n house was installed at the Red Keep, she was not the first born, the future of her house was already assured, they had sent her in the middle of this endless game that was taking place at the castle, to find a husband of whatever kind.

On the first day, she had asked for an interview with King Viserys. But not everything had really gone as she wished.

The person she saw was Otto Hightower.

A knight had come to pick up the young Y/n, explaining that the king's hand had accepted a meeting with her.

When she entered the room, it was dark, only the flames of the chimney lighted in places, leaving room for shadows to appear the forms of several pieces of furniture on cabinets filled with books, a table filled with what appeared to be scrolls and feathers. And in the middle of the room standing, preached Otto Hightower, he was facing y/n, his features were hard.

"Why do you want to talk to the King, Lady Y/h/n?"

“My family sent me out for help… to find a husband…”

It wasn’t that Y/n didn’t want to get married, she just wanted to be able to choose. It was true that the young lady was more hoarse than the other ladies of the court. When she was younger, she had suffered the cruelty that children could commit in the face of difference. But that had forged who she had become. It is true that she could be shy at first glance, kind and gentle, but when you know her well enough, this facade would crumble, leaving a person more worn out by time than other people her age. She was not preferred, she was not wanted and all reminded her of this.

“In other words, they abandoned you here.”

Otto let himself grow an annoyed sigh. It wasn’t as if the war that the Velaryon and Prince Daemon were waging against the crabs didn’t take long enough.

“Walk the streets of King’s Landing, a merchant may agree to marry you.”

Lady Y/n had felt discomfort, but also anger, she felt her blood running through her veins, the heat invading her body.

“Come out, the knight who has escorted you, will join you in the streets. I have more important things to do.”

Her teeth and clenched fists that Lady Y/n had gone out, biting her tongue not to insult the king’s hand.

Days had passed when she met Prince Daemon for the first time. On top of one of the Red Keep towers, down a hallway. Y/n was dressed in the colors of her house, simple clothes, so simple that anyone not knowing the name of her family would wonder if she would have been one of the servants.

It was several days that Daemon had returned from the war, it was by sinking into the quietest corridors that he saw her. Only lit by the moon sitting on the edge of the single window. Her back was leaning against the wall, her feet on the ledge, she had not paid attention that the prince was watching her, too immersed in her own mind.

“He just a cunt.”

Daemon was intrigued. He leaned on one of the walls and listened to her insulting a person, when he heard the name Hightower, his curiosity was piqued to the quick.

Daemon approached Y/n, taking her out of her thoughts.

Several hours were spent talking with each other, Lady Y/h/n was surprised and embarrassed at the beginning, but the more time passed, the more she recounted her life, without realizing it, she thought that the prince no longer listened to her. But on the contrary, his account was more interesting than hearing the king’s speeches, and Otto’s words.

Daemon was looking at Y/n, wondering if Hightower was even more detestable than he thought.

“One morning, the knight who had accompanied me came to fetch me, under the king’s command.” Y/n sighed.

"The bastard."

“We walked the streets… I felt like a beast that we wanted to sell, the poor knight was very uncomfortable…”

Daemon remained silent, he had seen several times, women being «offered» to the highest bidder, his blood bubbling in his veins. This dog son of Otto had reduced a young woman of good family to a mere commodity, a future prostitute.

“I had a request… The old, bald blacksmith… he doesn’t ask for children… just one person to look after his own…”

"A devout servant!"

Lady Y/n was surprised by the prince’s reaction. It was the first time since her arrival that a person took the time to listen to her, to spend time with her. Although she thinks he was only doing this to get more arguments against Hightower.

Every night the prince and the lady met at the top of that tower, talking, or just in silence. They were not made for life in this castle, they were like a breath of fresh air to each other. The only days they did not meet were when the prince was travelling to the Vale of Arryn, Y/n was aware that the prince was married and although she wanted to persuade herself that it did not affect her… It made her sad inside.

Several days later, the news reached the court, the prince’s wife was found dead in an accident, leaving him widowed. It’s cruel to think that deep down, she was happy, happy to maybe have a chance to be with him, despite the very low odds.

When the official announcement of the king to find a new wife for Prince Daemon was decreed, Lady Y/n the beating heart had directed herself in her most beautiful dress, in the colors of her house up to the throne room waiting in the circles of the heralds.

She was trying to reassure herself that Daemon being an adult had his word to decide with whom he wanted to marry.

But again, Otto was present, surprised and annoyed to see the chubby lady. The king was intrigued as to why the young woman wanted to marry his brother. Only the presence of the prince was missing.

“King Viserys… I would like to offer myself as a future bride for your brother Prince Daemon.”

"Fool, go find a merchant instead of the prince!" Otto had just spoken without really thinking, this young woman was most annoying.

"Otto!" The king was surprised.

"You don’t even have enough to pay for your dowry, don’t be so stupid!" Otto no longer paid attention to the people around him, whether it was the king ordering him to calm down, or the guard in charge of the protection of Y/n, who was advancing at his side.

“Get out of here! Don’t be so ashamed!”

Everyone present in the throne room remained silent observing the young lady, who although standing straight, bit her lips, for they trembled, they could observe a birth of tears at the corners of her eyes. They all thought she would just go away in silence and crying but no.

"You’re a dark piece of shit, Otto Hightower."

So straight and her head raised, she left the room.

She had not seen Daemon that night, or even the others. One morning, a herald of the Tyrell house left him a parchment, in it a request for an engagement with the lord of the house Lord Harlan Tyrell (second of the name).

Otto learned of this from the servant of Y/n, and that same evening she was sent in a carriage to Highgarden.

Lord Halan Tyrell was not a bad man, the very opposite, he had been very patient, had not asked for a dowry, which was surprising, the rumour was that it was Otto himself who would have paid the dowry of the young lady to be able to get rid of her.

Harlan Tyrell was the opposite of Daemon, both in his behavior towards others and in his behavior. He was the very cliché of a Tyrell, with his curly brown hair, that glow in his brown eyes, and smiling sweet and charming.

They had not married the first year, Y/n hoped and despaired to see a dragon arrived Daemon amount to look for her. But life in Westeros was not a tale for children. The only news she received from the prince was when she announced her union with Laena Velaryon.

To say that she was disappointed and sad was an understatement; she felt destroyed and broken. For several months, she had closed in on herself. Harlan Tyrell was patient, visited him every day, asked him to go out into the gardens, to read, interact with the living animals on the estate. Every day he persevered, many other Lords would have left their brides, but in the corridors rumours were working their way. The young Lord had fallen in love with Lady Y/h/n and even if he had to remain in the shadow of the rogue prince, it did not bother him.

The years had passed, Lord Harlan Tyrell and Lady Y/h/n was marrying in a simple wedding in the middle of the gardens, she was dressed in a dress embroidered in Tyrell colors, she had never worn a dress so working. Just before the ceremony, while the servants were helping her to get ready, she imagined Daemon, kidnapped her, but this idea sank deeper, she imagined him happy with his wife, with children.

Few houses were present, these were mainly houses under the tutelage of the Tyrells. It was a bright day, and a starry night, that few would have imagined that the only point of light or throng the darkness of Y/n’s heart was Harlan.

At the time of Laena Velaryon’s death, a letter of condolence was sent and no reply was received, apart from the rumours of the marriage of Rhaenyra and Daemon.

Lady Y/n had not reacted in public to these rumors, she wanted nothing more to learn about the prince. Her husband was more important, he loved her and not the prince, every time I heard, a nail was in the ground.

An accident….

It was a terrible accident that took away her husband, when they had just had their first child, a boy they had named Lyonel. Lady Y/n Tyrell was staying at the Highgarden in mourning for her late husband when the death of King Viserys was announced. She did not send any heralds, either of condolences for Alicent or Rhaenyra, of any sent to her for her husband.

When Otto Hightower sent an emissary to order his allegiance, she sent him away, calling the messenger to say by hand “The idiot is grieving and the Tyrell house would not stoop to kneel before the grandson of a dark piece of shit whether he has Targaryen blood or not.” of all the servants and members of the Tyrell family, no one would have imagined such an answer.

Several weeks passed, the houses under her tutelage wanted to fight, she let them do it, leaving them the choice to choose their sides.

That morning, a heavy atmosphere reigned over Highgarden, no heralds of Rhaenyra had appeared. All were worried about the day when it would arrive. Especially since Lady Y/n no longer carried any Targaryen in her heart. At least that’s what everyone liked to think, her first.

But this flowering bubble was destroyed at the moment when the sound she had so long awaited resounded in the sky. She was in the gardens, accompanied by guard and her servant, Lyonel in her arms, when a dragon appeared in the distance in the sky. Y/n was thinking of visiting the second son of Queen Alicent, but he was quite different when the shape of the dragon was visible. It wasn’t Vhagar, no it was a thinner, faster dragon. When he flew over the gardens, they could see that it was Caraxes.

When Caraxes landed in one of the largest gardens, Lady Y/n held her son tightly in his arms. Her heart was pounding. Daemon had just come down from the back of the dragon, his world was collapsing, age had in no way shaken the charm that had stolen the heart of Y/n.

None knew what the spirit of the prince went through when he saw the child in the arms of the sweet Lady.

The only thing that everyone agreed was that the next morning no more dragons were in Highgarden, and no one came near them.

But the walls if they could talk, would tell what they witnessed.

As the young lady had howled when they stood alone. Daemon had come to persuade her to take the camp of Rhaenyra.

“Do you really think I would go either way?”

“Calm down.” Daemon was calm, which was very strange.

"You have abandoned me! Not a news, the only letters being your marriage and the rumours of your union with your niece!" The rage Y/n felt was palpable in the air.

“Why would I send you any? You left King’s Landing before I even saw you!”

"You had not come to see me when you returned from the Vale! Nor the days after, I waited for you all the time! When you were a widower and the king wanted to remarry you, I volunteered! I even insulted Hightower!"

“I didn’t know…” Daemon didn’t have time to finish his sentence.

“I was sent here overnight! The king had accepted the request before I could say anything!” His voice began to tremble. "I hoped in vain that day when you would arrive ... that all this would be a horrible farce of the king’s hand ... But all I received was the announcement of your union…”

"You still got married and had a child, wasn’t that what you wanted?"

“I was destroyed! Harlan was the only one for me… and I still loved you… which is stupid, there was no agreement between you and me… never a kiss… no hint… just illusions in my mind…”

Daemon remained silent, watching the scene in front of him.

"Go away. Go tell your queen that the Tyrell House is not taking anyone’s side." Lady Y/n turned her back on Daemon.

“Y/n, if only…” He approached Lady Tyrell.

"What? I begged you in a letter to come and take me away? Not to get married?"

“Yes among other things.” Lady Tyrell was persuaded.

Daemon embraced her that night, for the first time in all her long years, Y/n Tyrell felt for the first time and the only time Daemon so close to her, no one could say if she felt guilty for this act.

In the morning Daemon had disappeared and the rage of war was pouring through all of Westeros, except in Highgarden.

The rumours spanned their own lives, many according to which Daemon and Rhaenyra no longer got along. That the prince was long lost in his thoughts, that the anger and rage he spent in battle was not right at the death of his brother or out of loyalty to the queen. But the day he came back from Highgarden, Daemon was changed.

A little less than 200 years later, Highgarden Crypt.

Lady Olenna observed a tomb or advocated a bas-relief of a woman lying down, the flower of the Tyrell house in her hands placed at the level of her belly.

Daenerys stood by her side, she had already read in the accounts that her ancestor Daemon had changed during the war, but she did not know the story of the Tyrell coter.

“Not many people know the full story. You must be aware that Prince Daemon was never found.”

Daenerys looked at Lady Olenna before looking at the grave.

“In the archives of our house, we have another end, but not at the very least a good, rather a tragic one.” She directed her hand towards the statue. "Look at her heart."

Daenerys went up the step in front of the tomb, she observed in her head the woman’s features, then directed her eyes on the clothes, a burst of light distracted her, she could observe what Lady Olenna wanted. On the location of the heart was a three-headed dragon, the emblem of his family was engraved, small rubies were inlaid in place of the eyes.

“But… why?”

"Lady Y/n, always loved the prince, in the archives of our house, his history is archived there, as well as his memoirs are archived letters from the prince." Lady Olenna looked at Daenerys before looking at the tomb. “He told her that he wanted to see her again, to tell her what he could not say that day. But he could not. the news of his death reached her a few months later, he had fallen in battle against Vhagar.”

Daenerys kept looking at the grave, listening to old Lady Tyrell.

“Of all those present at Highgarden, the rumor was that the Lady was pregnant from that one night with Daemon. She sent knights to fetch the body of the prince ordering him to be brought back, whether anyone in the kingdom knew whether they had found him or not. It was after several days that a letter was sent to her.”

Daenerys turned away from the grave.

“The prince was found, he was brought back to the Highgarden, as were the knights falling under the houses of his tutelage. He had become anonymous. On the day his body was brought, Y/n wanted to attend his embalming. Although the scene was not something to see for a lady. He was buried in the crypt, without anyone knowing except the lady."

"Is he here?"

“I didn’t finish young dragon.”

Daenerys looked back towards the tomb.

"In the prince’s armor, they found scrolls, messages for Lady Y/n, if he fell into battle. He confessed to her that during his marriages, he could not help but think about her, how life would have been different. That it was stubborn and stupid to think of the simple idea that she left him no message intentionally, that she would have fled the castle to marry a stranger. That if he could go back in time, he would have taken her, that they would have moved away from Westeros. That he would ask for forgiveness.”

Olenna’s voice echoed in the crypt, giving a dramatic tone to the story.

“Lady Y/n… lost her child at birth… died born. Her heart was broken, as any mother would have at such a tragic time.”

Daenerys thought of her own child, she will never forget.

"The rumor was that the baby had silver hair. But it did not persist, the war ended, they had other things to think about. Lady Y/n let herself die of grief, she was there for her son Lyonel, but when he was married. Death took Lady Y/n. Of those who embalmed her and placed her in the tomb, they had the last part of the story.” Lady Olenna placed her hand on the tomb. "When they opened the tomb there were two bodies present, an adult and a baby. She was placed beside them. And the tomb sealed for good.”

Daenerys detailed the bas-relief, observing the Tyrell flower, and saw there the shape of a small lizard, where what seemed to be a wing birth was in the back.

“Why doesn’t anyone know this story?”

Lady Olenna sighed.

"It was taboo, just as it would always be now. Without realizing it, she was participating in the war, Highgarden would have been reduced to ashes if the Targaryens and the children of Daemon had become aware. She loved Harlan and Lyonel, but her heart was also taken by Daemon, despite everything.”

"Why did you tell me that?" Daenerys was intrigued, she could feel a deep sadness in her.

“Our homes are closer than anyone would think, if Highgarden falls, your ancestor will fall with it.”

Daenerys wouldn’t believe her.

"just for a tomb?"

"No, a teaching too, Daemon was the closest to dragons, he could be cruel and just, but even he was weak in the face of love. Your only real enemy is yourself.”

When Daenerys on Drogon’s back attacked the Lannister army to defend the area of the Tyrell house, she could not help but imagine Daemon, do the same, and wondered what his last thought was. If Daemon had thought about Y/n and her life with her.

The end

#daemon x reader #daemon targeryen x reader #Daemon x chubby reader #Daemon Targaryen x chubby reader #House of the dragon x reader

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ravenya003 · 5 months ago

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Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Out of Mind, Out of Sight; E01E11

I dig this episode! In the grand scheme of things it’s fairly negligible, with a Monster of the Week who never reappears (even though she should have) and a fairly oddball premise (once again “mystical Hellmouth energy” is the real villain) but which also happens to be our first Cordelia-centric episode (demonstrating she has more depth than we’ve so far given her credit for) and guest stars none other than Clea DuVall.

It becomes even more bemusing when you take into account the fact that this is season one’s penultimate episode, for aside from a tiny subplot that sets up the finale and introduces Angel to the Scoobies for the first time, Buffy spends most of it trying to hunt down an invisible girl.

The more I think about this episode, the quirkier it becomes.

To start with, there’s some debate about what this episode is actually called. In some regions it’s referred to as “Invisible Girl,” and in others “Out of Mind, Out of Sight.” I'm not sure why, but I don’t think anyone could disagree that the latter is an infinitely better title than the former – not only is “Invisible Girl” a massive spoiler, but it also clashes with the next episode title: “Prophecy Girl.” Two girls in a row? That doesn’t flow very well.

On the other hand, “out of mind, out of sight” is not only a famous idiom, but also a very literate description of what happens to Marcie Ross in this episode. Everyone ignores her, and so she disappears. Plus, this is the title that appears on my DVD menu, so as far as I’m concerned, that’s the official name of the episode.

The episode kicks off, and Harmony is back! The first of the Cordettes to make a return appearance. She and Cordelia are jabbering in the hallway about the upcoming school dance, and Buffy overhears wistfully, no doubt recalling her days when she was popular. Now she’s a clumsy weirdo, scorned by the girls who would have otherwise been her friends.

It’s a rather heavy-handed scene, though an important component is that Harmony points out that: “she’s always hanging out with that creepy librarian in that creepy library.” Again, the other students might be spurning Buffy, but they are noticing what she’s getting up to. It all contributes to the subtle lead-up to the events of the Prom in season three.

In English class they’re discussing The Merchant of Venice, which is funny because I just watched the 2004 version last month. Amusingly, Cordelia has no sympathy whatsoever for Shylock, but it’s worth noting that she has an argument to make and demonstrates that she understands the material. Cordelia might be awful, but she’s clearly not unintelligent.

Also, we’re introduced to another member of the Sunnydale High faculty: Ms Miller, who is also the show’s third (?) featured Black person. I really should have been keeping count of these rare sightings of melanin skin in what is meant to be a Southern Californian town.

We cut to Mitch in the locker room, who is making a lewd comment to his friends about Cordelia. We actually met him a couple of scenes ago as Cordelia’s latest squeeze, and a fun fact is that he’s played by Ryan Bittle, who was the original Todd Wilkins in the Sweet Valley High series. Why is this relevant? Because the second actor to play Todd Wilkins was Jeremy Vincent Garrett, who also features on this show, in season two’s “Go Fish.” I enjoy these little coincidences.

He’s getting dressed after his shower when a levitating baseball, swiftly following on the heels of a malicious giggle, starts to beat the shit out of him. I can’t say it’s not a little satisfying (let’s be real – that gross comment he made about Cordy was to give us permission to enjoy this beatdown).

Just to really drive home the fact that Buffy is feeling lonely and left out, Xander and Willow start laughing about an in-joke that remains incomprehensible – something about a field trip, some antlers, and a hat. It never gets explained and it never gets brought up again. And to further hammer home the point, just in case you’re not getting it, Buffy divulges that she was once the May Queen at her old school. (Cordelia is campaigning and refuses to give her a cupcake).

The news breaks that Mitch has been attacked in the locker room and Snyder appears out of nowhere to announce that: “no one’s dead... this week.” Heh. Mitch is wheeled out on a gurney and manages to tell the assorted crowd what happened, and when Buffy goes to investigate, the Slayerettes very handily distract Snyder with talk about how the school is going to be sued. That’s teamwork.

There’s not much to see in the changing room, only the word “look” graffitied on the lockers. I’m also compelled to point out that there are no cops on the scene. I mean, they call an ambulance but not the police? (And yes, I do understand why the writers were loathe to involve the police force on a regular basis; it’s a discussion point I’m working my way up to).

In the cafeteria, the Scoobies and Giles are discussing their options and draw the obvious conclusion that it’s poltergeist activity. Buffy doesn’t think the attack was random, and Giles promises to draw up a list of students that’ve gone missing recently. In a slightly weird moment, Giles tries to recruit Xander into do some research, though in hindsight it’s just setup for a joke in which Buffy suggests he interview Cordelia instead, and he leaps at the chance to hit the books.

Harmony is commiserating with Cordelia about Mitch, though she’s mostly concerned about how awful he’s going to look in the Prom pictures. This segues into an interesting creative decision: we suddenly switch to a black-and-white flashback that depicts Cordelia and Harmony being approached by an unseen girl (it’s shot from her point-of-view) who is scornfully dismissed.

I’m not entirely sure if this was the best way to reveal Marcie (though technically, we don’t actually see her at this point) but this is nothing if not an oddball episode.

Back in the present day, Harmony is abruptly yanked off her feet and thrown down a flight of stairs. Yikes, it’s actually very wince-inducing, so well done to the stunt double. Buffy is on hand to help, and Snyder pops up to say: “don’t sue.” Heh heh.

Someone brushes past Buffy that she can’t see, though she hears a malevolent little giggle. She follows it into the band room, but fails to notice a hatch opening in the roof.

As the students leave at the end of the day, there’s a quick panning shot away from two distinctive-looking men in black suits and sunglasses (don’t worry, we’ll get back to them) and Buffy tells Giles that their ghost theory no longer holds water: she felt someone bump into her, which isn’t a typical trait of ghosts.

Their next option is simply a girl who is invisible, though Willow gets a cute moment when she says: “is she a witch? Because we can fight a witch.” (Continuity!) And yet whoever this girl is, her motive is clear, since the common denominator in both attacks was each victim’s proximity to Cordelia. Man, I really miss these detective-based episodes in later seasons.

There’s also a rather sad moment when Willow and Xander depart, and you can hear him ask: “do you wanna come to our place tonight for dinner? Mom's making her famous phone call to the Chinese place.” We learn so little about Xander and Willow’s families, and yet every glimpse we get is pretty dire. It’s a shame in a way that the show never delved into their backgrounds, because it would make sense on a psychological level that their absolute commitment to Buffy and her cause is based on not getting any love or validation at home.

Buffy decides to keep a watch on Cordelia, who for some reason is preparing her May Queen dress with her friends in a classroom after school hours (is there a reason she’s not doing this at home??) But I’m taking a moment to express my fondness for the fuzzy aesthetic of season one: the grainy quality of the footage, the slightly sluggish pacing, the rather unwieldy blocking – it’s such a far cry from the snappy editing and glossy visuals we get these days, and I love it.

Also, I feel that none of the girls in this classroom scene were given much direction, as there are some very awkward ad-libs (“how does the, um, hem go?”) and blocking (what on earth is the girl with the paper decorations doing?) going on. It’s charming in a very excruciating way.

Buffy peers at them through the window in the door, looking wistful, and are you getting it? I’m worried it’s too subtle. Buffy feels isolated and ignored, people! This might be thematically relevant later on!

Buffy draws away from the door when she hears flute music, but cannot find its source. In a nice segue, Giles looks up from his research in the library, also hearing the flute. He starts to investigate, and... okay, I love this scene. Giles meets Angel for the first time, and it’s nothing like I would have expected. (I actually started watching Buffy at the start of season three, and so season one always felt a bit like a prequel – and like I said, this meeting was not what I had anticipated for these two).

First of all, Giles gets a fright because he sees his reflection in a glass bookcase which demonstrates he’s alone – only to turn and realize Angel is standing right beside him. He looks back, and sure enough, vampires cast no reflection. That part is nicely done, and is solid setup for later in the episode when Angel’s vampiric abilities allows him to enter the gas-filled boiler room (heck, it even creates a neat comparison to Marcie’s invisibility, even though those two characters have nothing whatsoever to do with each other).

Giles recognizes him instantly, and Angel reassures him that he’s in no danger. Also, that he’s been trying to stay away since it hurts to be around Buffy. Um, sure. You’ve interacted with her, like what – seven times? And you’re in excruciating emotional pain when she’s around? I get that vampires score high on the melodrama scale, but honestly. Maybe he’s talking about literal pain since the last time we saw him Buffy accidentally seared a crucifix into his chest.

It doesn’t matter, because the most fascinating thing about this scene is that Giles doesn’t automatically enter Dad Mode. In fact, he seems a little awestruck with the idea of a vampire being in love with a Slayer, calling it “poetic.” I love that they made this choice for him; that you’d fully expect him to be disapproving of what Angel is doing, and instead finding it romantic.

We then get to the plot-relevant part of the scene, which plays out like a sneaky little alleyway thoroughfare to the events of the finale. Angel has approached Giles because he knows he’s researching the Master, and Giles laments the fact that so many texts of prophecy have gone missing.

I am POWERFULLY interested in the fact that there are apparently volumes of Slayer prophecies that detail what her role is in the “end years.” So many questions. Who wrote these books? That Aurelius guy? Are they just about the Master or do they involve all the other apocalypses that Buffy has to face? How does Angel know how to get hold of them? Who are his contacts?

Sorry, I just love the whole concept of prophecies, even though in this case, it’s clearly just basic table-setting for the unfolding plot. We’re not meant to be interested in anything beyond the fact that they exist, even though I would TOTALLY sit down to read an ancient tome that detailed prophecies concerning the Slayer line. That would actually be a total delight. Damn, I’m excited just thinking about it...

Okay, so the POINT of this entire exchange is that Angel promises to bring Giles something called the Pergamum Codex, which the latter believed had been lost in the fifteenth century. It has the most complete prophecies about what to expect from Buffy’s upcoming conflict with the Master, and it’s cute how Giles geeks out a little about getting his hands on it.

We are prepping for the next episode here, but the scene ends on an even more overt parallel between Angel and Marcie when Giles informs Angel they’re researching an invisible girl. It’s kinda funny actually, since he’s essentially saying “I know the end of the world is imminent, but first we gotta take care of this invisible teenager.” He remarks that being invisible would be a heady experience, and Angel advocates for the enjoyment of seeing one’s reflection in the mirror each morning.

Which segues us into... another flashback, this time one that shows us Marcie’s face as she’s – sure enough – looking at her reflection in a restroom mirror. Again, it’s a somewhat interesting way to reveal the identity and visage of this character, as all this context is still very much a mystery to Buffy and her cohorts (it’s rare that the audience gets clued-in before the protagonists) but it depicts her once again getting the brush-off by Cordelia and Harmony.

Back in the present day, Principal Snyder announces Cordelia as the May Queen, and promptly disappears from the rest of the episode (Snyder, not Cordelia). She begins her acceptance speech, while Buffy looks on from the walkway.

The suit-and-sunglasses men are noticeably loitering nearby, and Willow mistakes them for Cordy’s bodyguards before presenting Buffy with a list of missing students. The latest is a girl called Marcie Ross, who went missing six months ago. Hmm, if these episodes are evenly spaced over the course of a school year, that means she went missing sometime during the events of “The Pack” or “Angel.”

Willow and Xander claims they’ve never heard of her, but according to the list, Marcie’s only extra-curricular activity was playing the flute. The flute!

Buffy investigates the band room, and this time notices the hatch in the ceiling. She climbs up into the crawlspace and discovers where Marcie has been living – it’s a bit sad, since there’s a teddy and her flute, as well as a yearbook that confirms it’s indeed Marcie Ross who has been terrorizing the school.

Unbeknownst to Buffy, Marcie is in the room with her, and a knife starts levitating in midair as she searches her belongings. However, for whatever reason Marcie opts to not attack, and Buffy climbs back down into the classroom with her yearbook in hand, none the wiser.

In a quick scene, Ms Miller is alone in her classroom when Marcie whips a plastic bag over her head and leaves her for dead. Luckily, Cordelia arrives just in time to save her, and the pair of them turn to see a bit of chalk write “listen” on the blackboard behind them.

Buffy has brought her evidence to Willow and Xander in the library, and they’re perturbed when they realize they signed her yearbook (and attended classes with her) without ever registering her existence.

Giles comes up with the theory that this phenomenon isn’t magical in nature at all, but rather scientific – that because nobody noticed Marcie’s presence, she literally became invisible. Nah dude, it’s not physics, it’s just funky Hellmouth energy doing its thing.

We’re treated to one last flashback in which Marcie is sitting in Ms Miller’s class, being completely ignored by students and teacher alike. As she raises her hand in vain, she watches as it disappears before her very eyes.

Back in the present, Cordelia marches into the library in search of help. Again, this is a nice bit of lead-up to the Prom, since a. she knows where to find Buffy, and b. feels like she can call upon her for assistance when things get weird. It’s becoming public knowledge on campus that this is what Buffy does. Cordelia has also realized she’s the common element in these attacks – confirmed by the photo of her in Marcie’s yearbook that’s been rather viciously scribbled on.

Cordelia refuses to skip the May Queen celebrations that night, and Buffy backs her up: using Cordelia as bait could be a perfect way to draw Marcie out of hiding. Giles aims to work on a cure for her invisibility, while Willow and Xander will keep researching.

But the problem with invisible assailants is that they could be anywhere – like say, in the library stacks, listening to everything being said.

Buffy escorts Cordelia to a janitor’s closest where she can change into her dress, and the two exchange some nice dialogue about the nature of popularity. Cordelia expresses empathy for what Marcie’s going through, and divulges that she too knows what it feels like to be lonely. According to her, you can be surrounded by other people and still feel alone, and Buffy presumably realizes what the viewer has known this whole time – that she has the better deal when it comes to her friends. She might not be as popular as she was in L.A., but Willow and Xander are worth a thousand vapid Cordettes. And deep down, Cordelia knows this too.

Speaking of Willow and Xander (and Giles), they overhear the sound of a flute in the hall and start following it... naturally it’s a trap, and the three of them are locked in the boiler room with a tape recording and an open gas valve while Marcie drags Cordelia out of the janitor’s closet through a hatch in the ceiling. God knows where she got the upper body strength to pull THAT off.

Not realizing her friends are in danger, Buffy goes after Cordelia. The rest of the Scoobies try to escape the boiler room, but the door is locked and trying to break it open might cause a spark that could trigger an explosion (hey, I wonder if this episode is what inspired the idea of eventually blowing up the entire school at the end of season three).

Buffy reaches the crawlspace in the ceiling, only to fall back through the roof and get injected with something contained in a floating syringe – next to her is Cordelia, already unconscious.

When she wakes up, she’s at the Bronze. Again, how did Marcie manage to pull this off? She and Cordelia are tied to fancy chairs, and the word “learn” is written in glitter on a nearby curtain. Marcie makes herself known, waving a scalpel around and declaring that she’s going to pull a To The Pain on Cordelia’s face. Clearly she’s a fan of The Princess Bride.

Buffy tries to talk her out of her vengeance, while the Scoobies desperately try to escape the boiler room before succumbing to the gas. Luckily for them, Angel turns up with the promised Codex for Giles and drags them to safety, while Buffy yanks herself free of her bonds, closes her eyes, and uses her super-hearing (another Slayer ability?) to pinpoint Marcie’s location.

At just the right moment, she tackles Marcie into the curtain, exposing her whereabouts. It’s at that moment the FBI agents burst through the door and take Marcie into custody. It’s played for laughs a little, what with Buffy calling them creepy and the agents wishing her a nice day, but she does manage to establish that this sort of thing has happened before, and that Marcie will be “rehabilitated.” She’s taken away by the agents, while Buffy unties Cordelia.

So another episode ends with no deaths! For some bizarre reason, the Scoobies keep the fact that Angel rescued them from her (it really annoys me when they do this, and it’s not even clear why they do so) and Cordelia approaches in order to give them heartfelt thanks... at least until Mitch turns up and asks why she’s talking to these losers.

She snaps back to her usual self – though there’s been some progress there, and we the audience know that there are hidden depths at work.

Finally, Marcie is ushered into a seemingly classroom where nobody but the teacher can be seen. Still, the place is clearly filled with people, as a chorus of voices greet her as she takes her seat (but how’d she know what desk to sit down at if everyone is invisible?) She opens her textbook to a chapter called “Assassination and Infiltration” and laughs to herself.

A classic mid-tier episode, but also an oddball one in several respects. I guess I’m chuffed over the fact that the second-to-last episode of this season is a fairly throwaway story about an invisible girl, which also includes a tiny narrative thread that involves things like Angel meeting Giles and delivering an important Plot Coupon for the finale.

At a time where television shows are essentially big movies split into eight or so episodes, it’s an amusing reminder that writers once had to give consideration to the way their stories were structured. And that could lead to some quirky creative decisions. So yes, it bemuses me that this episode gives Angel a little sliver of a subplot that sets up the finale while Buffy is fighting an invisible girl who will never be seen again.

That said, Marcie is referenced again – though not by name, if I recall. Xander asks Buffy if she’s been felling ignored when she gets turned invisible in season six, and there’s a throwaway gag in season seven in which Buffy spots a girl turning invisible at the rebuilt Sunnydale High and tries to assure her that she’s “seen.”

But Marcie was perfectly primed to return at some point – more so than (for example) the Mantis eggs at the end of “Teachers Pet.” Hindsight is 20/20, and yet it’s impossible not to feel a little disappointed that the show didn’t take the opportunity to seed the existence of the Initiative with this episode. How easy would it have been to recon the agents of this episode into Initiative recruits in season four, and for Marcie to return in some capacity during that season? That final scene demanded a Sequel Episode.

But having deliberately drawn a connection between Buffy and Marcie and setting them up as foils, what with both of them feeling ignored and out of place, it was odd that the episode ends with Buffy simply dismissing Marcie out of hand. That she went from “we did this to her” to “you’re a raging looney” just didn’t feel right. That Buffy is empathetic is a pretty crucial component to her character.

So it’s a bit different to discern the final message here. Perhaps it was “there but for the grace of my friends go I,” since Buffy is grounded by her friendship with Willow and Xander, and clearly isn’t going down a bitter or resentful path when it comes to the way Cordelia treats her. That's the most crucial difference between herself and Marcie, and ironically, this episode marks the beginning of a friendship with Cordelia.

Miscellaneous Observations:

I’d like to think that Marcie’s “lesson” stayed with Cordelia. She shrugs it off by the end of the episode, but she does improve from here on out, and I’d like to think that she’s realized that the way she treats people matters.

I like the little detail that Angel offers to go back into the boiler room to turn off the gas since “it’s not like I need the air.” It demonstrates that vampirism does have some specific advantages (which will also turn up in the very last Angel episode) and kind of feels like foreshadowing for the next episode, in which he’s unable to perform CPR on Buffy.

During my high school years, I recall having to study a play called “After All We’ve Done” in which a boy is constantly discussed by his family and peers, but never actually seen on-stage. They’re constantly talking over him, micro-managing his life, making unreasonable demands of him, and eventually crying “after all we’ve done!” when he snaps and destroys an art exhibition at school. But like I said – he’s never actually seen on-stage. The point of the story is that he’s entirely acted upon, and I think of it every time I watch this episode.

Also, this YouTube prank of a guy convincing his younger brother that he’s become invisible.

Speaking of high school, among my friend-group the phrase “have a nice summer” became something of an in-joke thanks to this episode. We all wrote it in each other’s yearbook just to wind each other up.

After all that talk of ghosts, I was a little disappointed that there wasn’t one. But technically, isn’t Sunnydale High already haunted by the spirits of that student and teacher who were having a love affair back in the fifties? It’s amusing to think they’re haunting a completely different part of the school while Buffy was trying to hunt down Marcie.

I still think it’s weird that Angel appears in this episode and not “Nightmares,” which could have showcased his character in an interesting way. Still, there’s got to be a fun story about how exactly he got his hands on the Codex.

It was fun to see Clea DuVall, and yes, this was one of her earliest projects. I know her best from The Faculty and the first season of Heroes, but she’s been working regularly over the years, most recently in The Handmaid’s Tale and American Horror Story.

As fond as I am of this episode, there are some lingering questions. Like where on earth were Marcie’s parents? Did they ignore her too? Is there a reason she chose to hunker down in a nest at the school instead of just being invisible at home?

I mentioned in the summary that perhaps the threat of the boiler room blowing up was the inspiration for the entire school going kaboom at the end of season three. On a similar note, the fact that Buffy blames the student body for Marcie’s invisibility complex also reminded me of Jonathan. Like Marcie, he’s aggressively ignored by everyone – though in his case, it’s also the audience who partakes in the “not noticing” his presence. I wouldn't be surprised if the idea of his character stemmed from this episode.

All that in mind, I’m deeming this one an Innocuously Important Episode. It’s very indicative of season one, in which the writers were still playing around with the rules of the premise, and not for the first time building their plot around a metaphor (much like “Nightmares,” the real villain is the way perception can affect reality – this angle largely disappeared after season one).

Best Line: Giles: “The loneliness, the constant exile, she's gone quite mad!” Xander: “Yah think?” Okay, it’s not that clever, but Nicholas Brendan slathers it in so much sarcasm that I have to give it props.

Best Scene: When Cordelia reveals some hidden depths and bonds with Buffy through the door of the janitor’s closest. It’s been eleven episodes, and she’s finally humanized a little.

Biggest Unanswered Question: How did the FBI know that Marcie had turned invisible? It suggests some sort of inside man who can report on the strange goings-on at the school, but this thread is never picked up on. Again, it’s a shame that the show never tied them in with the Initiative.

Death Toll: For the second episode in a row, no fatalities! That leaves us with:

Grand Total: Fifteen civilians, fifteen villains, one ally.

#buffy the vampire slayer #rav's watching log #buffy rewatch

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gracehosborn · 8 months ago

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Find The Word Tag

Thank you to @athenswrites for the tag! Even if its a month or so late!

Rules: find excerpts from your work(s)-in-progress with the given words, then tag some friends to play along.

My words: Seed, Glass, Contain(er), and Hands. Your words: Run(ing), blood, clear, and realization.

Softly tagging, with no pressure: @kaylinalexanderbooks @meerawrites @queerfox-tales @thestarsfightagainstusmyfriend @sunset-a-story

Excerpts are under the cut! They feature:

Hamilton being angsty over some seeds in TAI.

Two excerpts from IOD! Alex gets her hair cut with a sword, and punches a guy in the nose.

From TAI, Hamilton receiving some exciting news during a morning drill with his militia.

Seed

From The American Icarus: Volume I:

I chuckled and shrugged my shoulders, “Uncle, I am no gardener.” “A little dirt will not hurt you.” Taking hold of my hand, my uncle pulled me to sit next to him, pressing with his other hand a single seed into my free one. For being a merchant, he does know how to garden well. Looking down at the lone seed then in my hand, I noted its small size; how it was destined to by those most logical rules of nature grow into a large, towering, and beautiful tree. Yet if only planted into the dirt before me, upon that island. There would be nowhere else for the little seed to grow and find its place—that island was its place, and that such fact would be known in my implanting it into the dirt just below it. You are only confused because you have more than one path unlike this seed. Why are you analogizing a seed? Just… figure something out—but what? Why? What purpose would my choices have? Legacy, what does that really matter? Mama is… dead… nothing is to change that—but trying would at least—ugh! I let the seed fall at a speed possibly too fast into the dirt as a murmur escaped me, “I hate being indecisive.” Not hearing my murmur, but seeing my treatment of his seed, my uncle turned towards me, attending me with a expression of surprise. “What did the poor seedling do to you, dear child?” Reopen doors which I have not an idea of what to do with and of which cause me great confusion simply due to my being in a position which gives little opportunity to walk through them. “Nothing… sorry.” “’Tis alright, she’s just a seed—a beautiful tree will come no matter how hard you threw it into its dirt.” “Indeed, but it had to be this dirt?” Without much thought, I gestured towards the said dirt with the hand which had released the seed; it then unseen underneath the brown specks. Uncle James’ blue eyes shewed much confusion, “What is the matter with the dirt? You just said to me you’re no gardener, yet why is it you’re complaining about dirt? You get your hands dirty working for Mr. Cruger, do you not?” Glancing away from my uncle, I sighed, the entertainment of those most interesting of passerby not as such in that moment. I was grateful for my job, and the life thereat I had lived, but particulars of the whole left me in a state of boundless confusion. My mother had only come to that island on account of my father’s business then as a sailor whom had in reasons I alongside many are still left to speculate, this having left my mother to raise her two children alone with aid of her family at which point she had died, leaving those said children otherwise orphaned and a family history tainted in scandal, fear and cover from the law, and known to all—even those whose knowledge of it was a national curse. All these particulars considered on the whole left me to question my very reasonings to having thought of them. I was at a fork in the road—continue to trek onward and stay where I was in security albeit really very little, or be one Orpheus and turn; changing everything with a most simple action in theory.

Glass

From Ink of Destruction:

Then my composure shattered like falling glass. My bones flared with anger as my eyes grew dark, becoming ablaze with wrath that seemed to burst out like a clown jumping out of a sewer. I could feel my feet guiding my body forward and my arm moving back as though it were a slingshot. Without a word, I punched Aiden Edwards square in the nose. Hearing a loud crack as I pulled away, I couldn’t help but feel the smallest bit of pride in my anger. Backing away with a cry of agony, Aiden reached for his nose, clutching his face in his hands as he felt for the blood that was now trickling down his cheeks. “What the hell was that for? You fucking broke my nose!?” he cried as he attempted to tend to the injury. "Oh, you should know what it was for, Aiden,” I said, feeling the sternness in my voice return. Before he could respond, I turned towards Jess, who immediately took a step back, feeling the full force of the wrath in my gaze. A part of my mind felt as though the action were justified, for Jess had betrayed me, or rather, she had been against me this whole time. A spy.

Contain

From The American Icarus: Volume I:

“You may all be relieved of your duties for today,” began he. “Good work today—thank you for not causing a racket. Pick up your target boards—bring them to Lieutenant Jay here.” As many a “Yes, sir!” filled the air, I returned to my right, walking towards the wooden board I had been left to use moments before. At last closing the distance of some yards, my hand wrapped around the top of the thick oak, it pressing firmly against my skin. Able to clearly see the damage done upon it by me, I noted the large clean-cut gashes, placed fairly close together, the three each having carved a hole. Upon the grass behind, in shadow of the secondary wooden piece propping the main board up, wood shavings covered the space; the balls of lead somewhere in the grass far beyond. Keeping the board steady within my grasp, as to not harm myself by way of the loose pieces, I turned in the direction of the chapel. A soreness began to rise upon my upper back as the board and my musket knocked on occasion my sides in my hurried walking, pushing me to grunt in frustration. If not for the barrel of the musket still hot and in need of cleaning, I would have slung her upon my back in quickening my pace. The wood of her barrel grazed my shoulder with the brush of a close fire, intense such that as I at last met Lieutenant Jay’s gaze I flinched. “Careful—here, I’ll take it.” Before I could register the action, Fredrick took hold of my board, pulling it out of my grasp. With a clatter, he dropped it into the growing pile just to his left near the chapel wall before turning back towards me. “Thank you—“ “Impressive work there, with that demonstration. Sorry they needed it, but you have proven yourself very equipped. That reminds me….” Turning his attention to the pocket of his coat, Fredrick retrieved with a swift movement the envelope I had seen in his care some time prior. “This arrived by Colonel McDougall from my brother whilst you were with your group. I know not what the pages inside contain.” He replied to my—well of course he would have considering that is what I wanted to make him do. I actually managed to get an intended reply…. Taking the envelope outstretched towards me, my fingers gripped the folded parchment with firmness, driven not to tear the wax seal only by the publicity of the circumstances surrounding me. My chest rose with a slowness as in gathering myself I took a long breath. Carefully, I slipped the envelope into the left pocket of my coat, glancing up at my superior officer once more at the quiet thud of the parchment against the wool fabric. “Thank you, sir.” Giving a smile polite, I began to take my leave, but not before Fredrick attempted to grab my shoulder. A short gasp escaping me, I turned my head so as to face him once more. “Sir?” “You did not hear this from me,” he began, his voice lowering close to a whisper, “but I did hear that McDougall and Jay have been talking of you—there has been rumor spreading that the Provincial Congress might raise a new company to be led by an appointment.” Shock gripped to my expression and countenance, pushing my eyes to widen and mouth to open slightly. “Are you suggesting—“ “Yes.” “What?” In keeping pace with Fredrick’s quiet, my voice was pushed out forcibly, unable to be withheld by the shock consuming me. A smirk took up my friend’s expression as he lifted a finger to his lips in silent request. Releasing his hand from my shoulder, he gave a quick nod before turning towards the man newly arrived with another of the wooden boards used during the drill. Sensing another man suddenly behind myself, I stepped to my far left and away from Lieutenant Jay in an attempt to be out of the way as my heart began to race.

Hands

From Ink of Destruction:

“Now that the rope is cut, you should be able to get your hands out quite easily. But yes, I will make that attempt.” At his words, the loosened pressure around my wrists became more noticable. Lifting my fingers inward, I managed to find a hole in the center of the knot. Inhaling, I pulled my right hand away and up, carefully squeezing my fingers between the ropes and the cement pole. A sigh of relief escaped me as my free hand tugged at the rope, and the sound of the knot meeting the wooden floor filled my ears. Lowering my hands to my sides, I gently rubbed my wrists against the inner lining of my jacket’s sleeves, feelling a soreness race down my arms. Blinking, I stared towards Mr. Waiter, feeling words come out of my mouth before I could stop them. “Are you certain that you haven’t done any formal historical research? Or did you lie to me? It’s clear you are not an amateur with that sword.” My voice held an even tone, for I was more curious than angry. A look of realization filled Mr. Waiter’s face, and I could see sprinkles of what appeared to be mischeif in his eyes. “You would know if I were lying to you. I am notoriously a bad lair. And if I were to mess with you, that would be even more obvious. As historians, or those who claim themselves historians, could tell you. I am not a historian myself. Rather, a subject of interest for many in the profession.” Shock and disbelief filled my veins as I took in his words. If historians had written about him, then surely I should have recognized him. His omission of what had caused him to drop out of college must have been something that would have drawn too much attention to him for him to have wanted to mention it inside the resturant. Further, the fact that he had not said his name indicated to me that I may not believe him. As I opened my mouth, the man rose his hand up to stop me. “Turn around so that I might try to fix your hair. Then you can continue.” Nodding, I turned to face the white pole as questions swirled with a fury in my mind. Coming to stand behind me, Mr Waiter gently grabbed towards the center of my hair, slowly lifting the now-uneven strands above my head. Gravity forced the last few inches of the longer portions to fall in front of my eyes, and I was certain against Mr. Waiter’s fist. Hearing the clang of the sword against the wood, I took a deep breath, steadying my posture. “This may be shorter than you wish,” Mr. Waiter said, “but if I held it otherwise, there would be a greater risk of ripping your roots out. And I am sure you don’t want to wear a wig.” Without another word, the man raised his hand, and the sharp swoosh of his blade filled the room. Clumps of hair flew to the floor with soft taps as the metal was struck for a second, and third time. The sounds brought me back to my freshman world history class, where we had watched a number of films exploring different cultures. As a treat towards the end of the unit, Disney’s Mulan had been shown. It was clear to me now how the strengths of animation had made the character’s famed haircut with her own sword seem so easy. Lenna would have surely reasoned that Mulan simply had thin hair, with the benefit of straight strands. At the thought, worry caught in my throat at how much time had passed. She had most likely gotten a cab, I told myself, but knowing Lenna, she would not have strayed far. “There.” With a sigh of relief, Mr. Waiter at last lowered the centuries’ old weapon after a final swing, stepping back towards his former post. As my hair fell back down, I could hear him mutter under his breath: “I never imagined I would use my training in such a manner.”

#find the word #my wips #the american icarus #TAI #ink of destruction #IOD #amrev #ya fantasy #historical fiction #alexander hamilton #writers on tumblr #amwriting #writing community #writer things #writeblr #alternate history #alternative history #writing excerpts #writing snippets

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artistic-pussy-power · 27 days ago

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The World, in so many words

Written by Sir Obxisa of the Queen's Guard, 1187 PT

1.1 - a brief note on geography

If you, dear reader, were to ask the younger generation what the difference between K'eidtyn and Krak'athirn are, they would look upon you with blank incomprehension. Such is the state of the youth today. This is part and parcel why I have decided to start this book off by explaining where the various kingdoms are in relation to one another, along with a briefer note on the histories (for more detailed accounts, see Ettorc's Asterian Crowns)

Let me start with the Asterian Empire, or Everia as it is known amongst foreigners. This is a perfect place to start, as immediately we can begin to see the type of history and promise that lies in a name; Everia (eh-vaa-re-ia), refers to "land that stands forever." When named, it was meant to usher in the Kingdom's great, glorious future, which it has since fulfilled. While it is currently spilt into three parts—the First Kingdom, the Second Kingdom, and the Third Kingdom, named in order of importance—it wasn't always. As her esteemed late majesty Queen Ania Asteria explains in The Life and Times of King Silas, the kingdom was initially a complete empire and only brought to its knees by the greed of demon-King Silas and the courage of his three daughters (Ania, the most important of them).

Geologically, the largest empire in this part of the world is the Lndi'ceath Empire, aptly named the land of icy deaths. Incorporated into its war-full belly are the kingdoms of K'eidtyn, Nrdaved, Siersal and H'rsiane. Krak'athirn, despite its popular tales, and claims of kingdomship, is only a port town. It is housed in the coastal west of K'eidtyn and is named "home of the Kraken" after the great tales of giant Undersea beasts that have ravaged its popular mythology. In the southeast of Lndi'ceath, K'eidtyn, of course, means, "the Undersea's beating heart." It is named this for being the place so many witches were found and hung during the hunts of demon-King Silas. Similarly, Siersal ("siren's call"), along the northwestern border of K'eidtyn, is named for being the host of many stories featuring fearful hunted witches jumping into the ocean and turning into those bloodthirsty, fearsome creatures we call Sedaisi. Nrdaved (a kingdom that stretches from the borders of Siersal and H'rsiane) was a land utterly ruined and ran ragged by loathsome Fae creatures that inhabited it before it was settled. Thus, it was named "land ravaged." The meaning behind H'rsiane, the large coastal Kingdom in the northwest part of Lndi'ceath, has sadly been lost to time.

Off to the southwest of Lndi'ceath, there is also the R'vendost democracy. That, for any future historian, is a relatively new term meaning a form of a council where the leaders are elected by peasants and merchants and work with each other to rule over the entire small island. The newness of the democracy also belays its people in being lawful, meaning the whole island is filled with crime and run by money. However, that is probably well deserved for an island named "ruined and lost."

The last little section of land, directly south of the Asterian Empire, is the three islands that huddle close together to form the Lusrofre Empire, named, fittingly, "cluster of islands." The closest (and biggest), island is named Omoheva or "land of the gods." According to popular perception, gods like Magic itself have come down from the heavens to shape this part of the world personally, hence the name. However, an alternative (much more believable) explanation is that the name is in reference to the wealth of Omoheva*, stating that the land must have been touched by the gods because of the richness found there. The second island is Divra, named "touched by Fate," for its imaginative storytelling and whole host of respected artisans and creatives. Lastly, the smallest but most important island is Eyatpi (ee-ya-ah-pit-ah), meaning "wealthy capital" for the abundance of resources that was given from its lands during the time it was under Asterian rule.

A final note—as I must mention it—is on The Golden Forest, or Ochyod as it is known amongst the Fae. The meaning of this name is "touched by god" for it is believed that Magic itself had shaped the gold-lush forests and hills that make up the lands of Ochyod. While many people believe it is a small island squeezed between the landmasses of the Lndi'ceath and Lusrofre Empire, no sailor alive has yet to find it. It is believed that the land of the Fae have been separated from this reality due to the Severing. For more information on that, see my book When the World Splintered.

*Amendment to this section

I have found that many people are outraged by my speaking on the truth. I have been told to revise this section, but I am unwilling to change my claim that is based in research for the word of some peasants that have no education to speak of, only the rumours they have whispered to one another.

#sir obxisa #worldbuilding #original work #once i publish the other mentioned works i'll put in links to them #but rn they'll just be blanks #also fun fact!#krak'athirn used to be the name for k'eidtyn for a very long time #until a title change meant the kingdom got moved to k'eidtyn and therefore changed their name too #which is why there's a confusion between the names #but obxisa who is NOT from lndi'ceath does not realise this

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scotianostra · 8 months ago

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Patrick Colquhoun was born born in Dumbarton, on March 14th 1745.

Colquhoun was sent to the new world and served an apprenticeship as a sixteen-year-old in Virginia in North America. Likely working in a tobacco store.during the American Revolution he was part of the Government militia, in what was a Glasgow regiment to contribute to the government’s war effort. This part of history is being explored at the moment in the hit show Outlander.

On his return to Glasgow he became one of the city’s famous/imfamous ‘Tobacco Lords’. He had multiple commercial interests and was also a co-partner in the Glasgow-West India firm, Colquhoun & Ritchie, that traded with Jamaica and Antigua. As such, his wealth was derived from transatlantic slavery and its commerce, perhaps this is why he is not as well known in his native Scotland, we have a habit of brushing over the shame in the abhorrent trade of human beings.

In 1782 he built Kelvingrove House - in what is now Kelvingrove Park - as his residence. Colquhoun was Lord Provost of Glasgow, 1782-1784 and founder and the first Chairman of Britain’s oldest Chamber of Commerce in Glasgow in 1783. He was an honorary graduate of the University and the Colquhoun Lectureship in Business History is named for him. He moved to London in 1789 where he became a magistrate and published pamphlets on policing and other social issues of the day.

It is due to his work in London and those writings on policing he is credited with being the founder of the first regular investigative police force in England, The Thames Valley Police the first regular professional police force in London. Organised to reduce the thefts that plagued the world’s largest port and financed by merchants, the force was directed by Patrick Colquhoun and consisted of a permanent staff of 80 men and an on-call staff of more than 1,000. Two features of the marine police were unique. First, it used visible, preventive patrols; second, officers were salaried rather than stipendiary, and they were prohibited from taking fees. The venture was a complete success, and reports of crimes dropped appreciably. (In 1800 the government passed a bill making the marine police a publicly financed organisation.) This was a decades before Robert Peel established the Metropolitan Police, and it has to also be noted around the turn of the 18th City of Glasgow Police was established.

Colquhoun’s treatises on police also inspired the foundation of police in Dublin (Ireland), Sydney (Australia), and New York (USA).

Colquhoun’ has also been criticised for his violent oppression “wholly in the service of an industrialist and property-holding class in the earliest incarnation of socio-economic warfare in the Atlantic economy.” He “organised political surveillance by spies and snitches of those opposing slavery. In addition to his Virginia cotton interests he owned shares in Jamaican sugar plantations.” So by many accounts a nasty piece of work.

Colquhoun has been called ‘the Father of Glasgow’ because of his role in promoting Glasgow’s trade and manufacturing during the late 1700s. In fact, he referred to himself in this way when drawing up his will in 1817. We have a name for such people in Scotland, and it really fits this guy- Baw Heid.

#scotland #scottish #history #Glasgow

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helloescapist · 1 year ago

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Today's my birthday and I get to read a Shinobu fluff written by you. How lucky!!! I'm melting waaaa

Ah!!!! Happy birthday anon!!!!! 🥳

Wait wait,

A Special Day | Shinobu Kocho

Word Count: 875

Setting: Shinobu x gn!reader [birthday!!]

Content Warning(s): some cakes were harmed in the making of this short. Fluff <3

Icing layered upon icing, strawberries that threatened to slosh off the cake. The furrow brow and strained smile that the Insect Pillar forced upon her lips. The small vein in her forehead that revealed the inner thought process as the agitation settled in her quivering hand. The knife secured in her hand as it trembled, her teeth beginning to gnaw on her bottom lip.

Flour spread across the counter tops, disarray as though a tornado had swept through the Butterfly Estate kitchens. Procured ingredients, rare and unusual for the time frame and the region in which she inhibited. The hours she had spent procuring them from foreign merchants at the port. Pans piled on top of pans, desperately needing to be scrubbed before irreversible damage set in. Not that Aoi hadn’t suspected that they had not suffered enough. Upon Shinobu declaring that she herself would prepare [YN] a cake for their birthday, she had set money aside and prepared for the inevitable replacing of cookware that would take place in her near future. It was not that the Insect Hashira did not comprehend the finer mechanics of cooking, or baking for that matter. She was capable of the basics, and understood that baking was in itself a science, similar to that of her poisonous concoctions she used in the field. Yet, despite all of her confidence and willingness to dedicate hours to researching books on the topic, the final product was….

“S-Should we help her?” Naho inquired. Her small braids dipped as her chin met her collarbone. The fear evident upon her small features.

Kiyo and Sumi nodded in agreement. The thought process was… fair enough. It was easy to see how Lady Shinobu would be gifting you with food poisoning if left to her own devices, but Aoi’s hands met the girls shoulders. Baring a stern arch of her eyebrows, shaking her head. All too aware of the way her sensei had dedicated hours to crafting this… cake. Her blue eyes following the older woman’s curve of her back. The small tool wielded in her fist. A small knife now deemed a weapon, procuring a measurement tool that had obviously been taken from the medical supplies. Meticulously measuring out the spacing of strawberries despite the way that the frosting was beginning to give way to the weight of the fruit. Adamant and determined, as the day that she had shooed off the Love Hashira upon insisting to provide her aid, Aoi shook her head to the young girls. “Lady Shinobu wants to do this for her love. We should respect that,” she shooed them from the kitchen doors. Insisted they return to work rather than peek around the door frames like little mice afraid of poisoning. Yes, it was best to allow the Insect Hashira’s devotion to guide her in this endeavor…. And Aoi would be sure to have the supplies ready just in case, the anxious realization that not all of the egg shells from Mitsuris recipe were accounted for.

Your eyes met her uneasy smile. The forced way her lips tried to form a grin, but gave way to a pout. The small quip of her eyebrow. The touch of frosting that dashed across her nose, flour that lacked decorum laced through her deep hair, where shades of violet strands should have been visible, obscured by the touches of white that threaded through her mane. Her amethyst eyes averted, stubborn as the love she held for you. The pout of her lips, and the beginning blossom of a blush that laid dormant under the icing upon her features. Her uniform shuffled and askew, as though she had lost a battle with a chef demon. The realization leaving you a little coy, giggling at the state of her clear annoyance. Disappointed in her homemaker capabilities, something she had never worked towards nor cared to before today. The swell of her cheek poked out as she turned her head from, you all too aware of the stifle chuckle The cake was… interesting. Slurred to one side, propped up with additional utensils as a way to offer some support to the cake foundation. Strawberries slipping from between the layers, far too eager. Excess icing, far too large strawberries left whole in her logical approach--- strawberries were wonderful. Why would you slice them? Not realizing that her refusal to do so, was her undoing. The cake in all of its rustic charms, looked as though a child had eagerly crafted it for a loved one. Shy of the tips of her ears, she offered to retrieve the cake Mitsuri had dropped off for you--- not willing to admit the sore space it left in her heart. Relieved only upon the warm smile that graced your lips. The joy of seeing this meticulously messy cake before you, the affection of hours spent attempting to stray from her comfort zone. Though it was in all rights, a disaster--- the bashful touch of Shinobu’s flush indicated that the Insect Hashira was well aware… she had done this for you. She had strayed from her comfort zone, attempted a task she had never once considered before. For you. The smile leaving you beaming at her.

What a special day.

#demon slayer x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kny x reader #shinobu kocho x reader #shinobu kocho #🍡tsuyospeaks #demon slayer

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