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yuyupowers · 3 years ago

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aristocrat!seonghwa

aristocrat!seonghwa x fem!reader

genre: fluff

trigger warning(s): patriarchal society mostly. let me know if there’s anything else!

author’s note: none of the pictures are mine!!

for reference, i’m using british peerage (hierarchy). there are five ranks: baron, viscount, earl (count), marquess, and duke - the highest being duke, and the lowest, baron.

second son of a duke

i imagine seonghwa to be someone who values tradition

unlike hongjoong who finds who finds the numerous aristocratic mannerisms pointless, hwa believes upholding these (rather stringent) rules is a sign of respect

perfect gentleman pt.1

excellent in swordsmanship, horse-back riding, and hunting

well versed in poetry, literature, art, and finance

(can maintain a conversation about politics but honestly it kinda goes over his head)

a bit on the shyer side, but a decent conversationalist

good at keeping the flow and mediating in case anyone becomes a little too heated about their opinions

definitely cares about his and his family’s image

naturally caring and tends to dote on those close to him

(translates into excellent manners)

holds the door open, offers his hand when stepping out of carriages, makes sure to walk on the side closest to traffic, diverts conversation when things are too “distressing,” wouldn’t be caught dead alone with a woman that wasn’t related to him or his fiancée/wife

and surprise, surprise !!

this is where you come in

you’re the second oldest daughter, fourth child out of six; born to an earl

hwa’s family had the highest title bestowed upon aristocracy

whereas your family accumulated more wealth and land than the park family

and since both you and hwa were prime marrying age™, your parents decided upon a mutually beneficial marriage

the first time you met seonghwa was under the watchful eye of both your parents, when the park’s invited your family for dinner

tbh, you were pretty relieved when you met him

“prime marrying age” was different for men, so you were just glad he wasn’t some old geezer

and he seemed like a decent person !!

a well put together gentleman, and his image was only consolidated throughout dinner

all in all, you didn’t have much to complain about from the initial impression

though it was kinda annoying when your little sister would not shut up about how he was the handsome man she’s ever met

even if you agreed

and didn’t she say that when she met woo?

anyways

after the first meeting with the park’s, both your parents set up multiple occasions for you two to meet

whether that be evening walks, picnics in the park, etc,,,

you learned a great deal about seonghwa

how his favourite is black, how he loved the stars and that his favourite planet was mars

how he loved kids and doted on your youngest siblings (much to your sister’s glee)

how he enjoyed spending a quiet afternoon with you reading dickens, discussing afterwards the contrast between carton and darnay

how he was always considerate of your feelings and opinions

you liked to think you were a decent judge of character and thought overall that seonghwa was a kind and caring person

but you also noticed a few characteristics that-

you wouldn’t say it was off-putting or anything but,,,

it might bother you in the future

see, you were pretty good friends with hongjoong

and while you weren’t as extreme,

(you didn’t sneak out weekly to hang out with a bar maiden that you definitely did not have a crush on)

you certainly agreed with him on certain points

like hwa, you thought that abiding by certain mannerisms = display of respect

but unlike him, you didn’t care all that much about your image

okay, that was a lie.

you couldn’t say you didn’t care about your image

(social ostracization isn’t exactly fun ya feel)

but you thought it was,,,exhausting

it’s one thing to be respectful, but it’s another thing to say things you don’t mean

to fake humility

to undermine people that are supposed to be your “friends” or “one of you”

to be perfect, when “perfect” was such a subjective term anyways

it just felt so fake and that left a bitter taste in your mouth

even now, you could see all the efforts seonghwa made to constantly keep his image of a “perfect gentleman”

with perfect mannerisms and perfect answers and perfect-

yeah, it kinda frustrated you

not to mention how obedient he was?

of course you didn’t fault him for being a dutiful and filial son, but his loyalty blinded him

and it wasn’t like his parents were bad people !!

no, you’d say they were much kinder than the average noble family

especially considering their status

but when they made important decisions for their son without consulting him,

(because they were more experienced, because they knew better, etc,,,)

and he accepted whatever decision they handed to him?

well,,,

nevertheless, despite being his fiancée, you, by this point, had realistically had known seonghwa for a couple months

and you didn’t feel like it was your place

(at least not yet)

to point this out

so the two of you continued your cordial but emotionally distant meetings

that is until “the incident” (as hwa fondly likes to call it)

okay, so-

one day you paid hwa a visit and the two of you decided to take a walk in his family’s garden

chattering about this and that

a lovely time !!

it was a bit overcast, but it didn’t look too threatening

so the two of you ignored the clouds looming in the horizon and wandered deep into the garden

big mistake

the weather took a turn for the worst, and soon it was pouring

by this point seonghwa was a little panicked

he knew that for women, getting ready could be excessively long and tenuous task

(courtesy of his little sister’s complaints)

and now !! you were getting rained on !! because he didn’t bring an umbrella !! just in case !!

!!!!

he turns to you, ready to shield you with his jacket and lead you back to the manor

but he’s at a loss by what he sees

he had expected you to be upset, to huddle closer to him, to,,,idk, maybe reprimand him for this thoughtlessness??

but instead, he finds you staring up at the dark sky, eyes shimmering with barely contained glee with the biggest smile he’s ever seen from you adorning your lips

he likes your smile

and if he was already confused (he was), he was about to become even more so

because the next thing he knows, you’re hiking your dress in one hand and grabbing his in the other, running through puddles of water and mud and everything in between, laughter falling from you like the rain

up until this point, you had been acting like the perfect (you hate that word) lady

polite, demure, charming-

in public settings, you only spoke when spoken to, with a voice that was purposely soft and soothing

you chatted with his mother and sisters about traditionally feminine things over tea with impeccable manners

whenever you two met, you were always prim and proper; never a strand of hair out of place

but here you were, getting not only yours but his clothes soggy and muddy, laughing without a care about how pleasant it sounded or how loud it was

seonghwa liked to think he wasn’t a judgemental person-

he wasn’t repulsed or anything by your sudden change in demeanor

just.

really confused

and when you looked back, you could tell,if his expression was anything to go by

but your grin only grew wider, because you could work with this

he wasn’t enjoying himself per say; a bit too confused and bit too stiff to do so

but he wasn’t horrified or disgusted

okay maybe he was a little grossed out; he liked to be clean thank you very much

you could work with this.

and so over the next few months, you showed him things he never dreamed of doing

some of which he liked, some of which he didn’t

some he was willing to try, some, less

like sneaking into the restricted section of the library (he’s never been so scandalized in his life)

or visiting the kitchen in the middle of the night so you could teach him how to make some basic recipes (which he surprisingly enjoyed)

or meeting hongjoong

(“of COURSE it matters if they got the colour wrong?! lord help me you’re the most insufferable person i’ve ever met-”)

and the more the two of you explored, the more he,,,real he became.

and vice versa.

gradually, the mask of perfection he worked so on hard to maintain was slipping before you

don’t get me wrong, he’s still kind and caring and a gentleman

but sometimes he would whine and complain when you encouraged him to do something he was less than enthusiastic about (usually something that involved getting him messy)

or he made The Face™ (the disgusted one) to you and when he didn’t like something or someone

or he would be stupidly stubborn about some random fact that you KNEW was wrong but he just WOULDN’T admit if even when you showed him proof

(“seonghwa for the last time toads don’t give you war-” “LALALA I CAN’T HEAR YOU” “eye-”)

once, he even playfully stole the strawberry from your cake

(big mistake. he’s never doing that again. he never knew a woman could move so fast or be so scary.)

it made you so, so happy because the two of you were finally getting to know each other

actually know each other

then one day, while the two of you were reading underneath a tree at the park

“,,,hey love?” (hwa)

“yes?”

“why are we doing this?”

“what do you mean, dear?”

“i mean,,,i’m not complaining, but i guess,,,why did you decide to show me this part of you? the part that runs around in the rain?” hwa

you don’t reply right away

instead, you shut your book and idly stared at the willow swaying over the pond, wind running its fingers through its drooping leaves

after a few moments of silence

“,,,i wanted to know you and what you believed in. actually believed in.”

seonghwa tilts his head slightly to the side

“love, i hardly think my convictions have changed”

“but do you know what your convictions are?”

and you know when you hear something that resonates with you?

something that strikes deep in your core and makes you rethink everything you’ve know?

yeah,,,this is one of those moments

now it was seonghwa’s turn to set his book aside, falling deep in thought

after an unnaturally long stretch of silence, you began to panic a little

because ?? maybe you misread the situation and got a little too comfortable-

cause i mean you were questioning his core values, which is something he takes very seriously

o god you messed up didn’t you o crap you need to apolog-

“will you help me figure it out?”

“,,,huh??”

“will you help me figure out my convictions?” he asked

and you swear, you’ve never seen such a smile from seonghwa

one that conveyed a plethora of emotions, ranging from honesty and vulnerability, to confusion and loss, to lightness and warmth

it filled you with an unnameable feeling

like something sliding into place, fitting perfectly; like it was always meant to be there, filling you with comfort

shyly intertwining your hands for the first time, you looked up to meet his gaze with a pattering heart and a smile matching his own

“,,,of course.”

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yikesharringrove · 4 years ago

Note

I have a headcanon that Billy doesn"t really know how to apologize like most people do. To him, the words are kind of empty so he just does things for people instead. Things like replacing all of the dishes with better quality ones for the Byers, making the girliest clothes Max hates disappear and replaced with things she likes, a new slingshot showing up in Lucas's locker, breaking into a car to fix it. Steve is weirdly charmed by it.

These may both be you? But here’s a combo since they’re p much the same idea

anonymous asked: Billy has forgotten how to actually connect with people so he shows affection through acts of chaotic good, like planting catnip all over the yard of the lady who allergic for yellomg at Max or breaking into a car so he can fix the engine. Steve figures out Billy is the one doing all these oddly kind things but he is still kind of intimidated by the blonde so instead of thanking him out right he just leaves things like cigarettes and baked good for him in his car. Have fun with that one!

This got pretty long so I put some of it under the cut.

Billy didn’t believe in the words I’m sorry.

They just didn’t make sense to him. He had never heard the words when someone actually meant them, and fuck knows he’s never actually meant those words before.

But that does not mean there aren’t things in his life he regrets.

For example: beating the shit outta Steve Harrington.

He felt like absolute fucking garbage about it.

Harrington hadn’t deserved that shit. Billy was just runnin’ hot that night, and Harrington had been unlucky enough to have bad timing.

But he didn’t know how to fix it.

So he started leaving snacks in Steve’s locker.

He noticed how he would always be giving his friends the food off his fucking plate, so he would shove granola bars, candies, even made him a sandwich one day.

He watched as Steve would eat whatever it was Billy had left for him, just fuckin’ chowed down without question.

He would look into classes, find out where Steve sat and leave little treats on his desk.

“Mr. Harrington, I think you may have a secret admirer.” Steve flushed a little at the cupcake, and shoved it into his mouth in two bites at the beginning of history class, but he wasn’t gonna look a gift horse in the mouth, so to speak, and figured whenever this chick came forward, he would thank her for being so thoughtful, and let her down gently.

After leaving Harrington alone with all his snacks, Billy set his sights on his other regret.

He had Max hadn’t always fought and bickered. True, Billy wasn’t the warmest, when they first met, but once he got his car they would drive around together a lot. He’d take her to the arcade and the boardwalk. They both didn’t like being home too much.

So when Billy’s informed he’ll be watching Max for the weekend while Neil takes Susan to the city, he forms a little plan.

There’s one Chinese restaurant in Hawkins. It’s totally not authentic, not like the dim sum they used to get wandering around San Fransisco, but they had steamed pork buns and Billy picked up eight.

He let Max do whatever she wanted that weekend, figured they would have better luck with one another if they both acted like outdoor cats, coming and going as they pleased, but come Sunday evening, all the pork buns were gone, and there was an unopened pack of cigarettes on his nightstand.

Regret number three: Lucas Sinclair.

Billy probably felt the most fucked up over this kid.

He’d gone after him, a fucking child, in his blind rage.

He had figured that out when he came to on the floor of that weird house, sitting up empty and alone, realizing I’m just like Neil.

He had seen all those kids with their nerdy toys, went out to RadioShack, early Sunday morning, leaving with a light wallet and a new idea.

Dustin was arguing with Mike over the realism of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, like there was anything realistic about it.

Lucas rolled his eyes, opening his locker, his mouth dropping open when he saw something inside.

He pulled the bag out, peering inside.

There were six brand new walkie talkies inside.

They were better than the ones they already used, had further range and more channels.

Everyone went silent.

“Um, these aren’t mine.”

Max’s eyes went wide. She snatched something up from the top shelf of Lucas’s locker.

The new Wrist Rocket had a note attached to it. She knows this handwriting, but couldn’t place it.

Enjoy the new gear. Don’t quit saving the world.

“Do you think they’re from Steve?”Max furrowed her brows at the note.

And then everything clunked into place.

“Maybe.”

The boys were tearing into the new walkies.

She got two cokes from the vending machine at lunch, handing one quietly to Billy when she got in his car after school.

Billy doesn’t really know what he’s doing here.

He had driven Max to one of her nerdy little friend’s houses, and somehow he got roped into staying? He doesn’t even remember.

But now he’s standing with a short kind woman, in the exact kitchen he beat the shit out of Harrington in, with Steve himself leaning against the other wall, watching the kids like some kinda hawk.

Billy’s hands were shaky, and he inserted himself into washing dishes from dinner.

He noticed most of them had chips, and all of them were mismatched. He put them away quietly, and drove to the nearest home goods store he could find.

Ceramic plates didn’t run too much, and he got a nice set of three different sizes, twelve plates of each size, light blue like the one he broke.

He left them on the porch, parked his car down the road a ways.

He rang the doorbell, sprinting and diving into the bushes before anyone can see him.

He watched as one of the sons, the one his age, the one in his English literature class, opened the door, his brow furrowing at the box of new plates.

“Um, Mom? Somebody left us a set of plates?”

He closed the door, but the took the plates with him.

Billy was sitting on the lawn, had just finished raking up all the damn leaves, and was taking a well-earned smoke break as he watched Max skating up and down the street, practicing her kickflips and ollies.

She cut into the driveway across the street, the only one on the entire block that was well paved, no cracks in the cement.

“Get out of here!” Max started as Mrs. Reynolds, a mean old woman was shouting through her screen door. “You little hooligan! You’re going to leave marks!”

Max bit her lip, trying not to laugh as she boarded back over to their house, standing next to Billy.

“I’ll be having a word with your father!” She rolled her eyes as Billy ground his jaw.

Cat nip was way more expensive than Billy was expecting, but he bought plenty of packages, returning home just past sunset.

He waited until about three in the morning, when Mrs. Reynolds’ sprinklers had finally turned back off before he climbed out his window, spreading the cat nip through her yard.

He flipped her house the bird.

Max was awed at the cats the next morning as Billy drove them both to school.

There must’ve been at least a hundred.

“Isn’t Mrs. Reynolds allergic?” Billy tried not to laugh.

“Damn. That sucks for her.”

Billy was sitting on the hood of his car, reading one of his lit books while he waited for Max to get out of her nerd club.

He startled a little bit when someone knocked on the hood.

And it was Harrington, smiling sheepishly at Billy.

“The Byers got some new plates last night. You know anything about that?” Billy tracked the thin scar on Steve’s head. It disappeared into his hairline. Billy wonders how long he had sat in front of a mirror, picking glass out of his thick hair.

“Who’re the Byers?” Steve huffed a laugh.

Max was standing in front of the mirror looking like a grumpy old cat.

Susan had bought her a lovely new dress, and Max fucking hated it. Susan was fussing over it, saying I ordered it from the Sears catalog! and can you believe it was only fifteen dollars?

Billy slipped a five and a ten into Susan’s purse later that day, taking the dress to the Goodwill downtown.

He found Max a couple crappy t-shirts there, bands she would hum to on the radio, shit like Journey and Foreigner, and slid them into her closet where the dress used to be.

She wore one the next day, blinking slowly at him over breakfast.

He avoided all eye contact.

Steve has long legs.

this was of course something Billy always knew, but watching him stalk in all his righteous fury down the street towards the high school really solidified that fact for Billy.

He was stomping, his strides long as he hustled to class. Billy thought about offering him a ride, didn’t think they were there yet.

Billy found himself in Steve’s driveway later that night, popping the hood of Steve’s dead car and searching over everything with a flashlight.

Billy rolled his eyes.

Steve had probably always paid someone else when his car broke down, didn’t realize if your oil was low, your car wouldn’t work.

Billy kept a few cans in his trunk, refilled the bad boy for Steve, making sure that was it.

He found nothing else wrong and Steve pulled into the school parking lot the next morning.

Billy could feel Steve staring at him when he walked into school.

He found Steve sitting on his car at lunch, holding the sandwich Billy had snuck into his locker, and a loaf of bread wrapped in cling film. .

Billy raised an eyebrow.

“I saw you last night.” His cheeks went hot. “Thanks for fixing my car. And all the snacks and stuff. And for the Byers’ plates. And for all the stuff with Max.”

“Nothin’s happened with Max.” Steve appraised him for a moment.

“She said you’re being nicer.” He held up the bread. “Homemade banana bread. Made it while you were being not at all stealthy fixing my car.” He smiled at Billy, one a’ those perfect sunshine smiles Billy had only ever seen Steve direct towards his kids.

“I just changed your oil. Car won’t run if you don’t got oil.” Steve furrowed his brow.

“My gas tank was full. I had just filled it.”

“Nah Pretty Boy, oil. It’s different.” And Billy took a deep breath. “Could show you, if you like. Teach you some basic car shit. How to jump, how to change a tire.”

Steve beamed at him.

“I’d like that! I don’t know shit about fixing cars. Always figured it would go way over my head.”

“It’s pretty easy. There’s usually only a few major things that go wrong in nice cars that are easy fixes. You’ll figure it out quick.” Steve slid off his car, and Billy lamented that for a minute, liked how Steve looked perched on Billy’s car, wondered how he’d look in the passenger seat, in the backseat-

Steve pushed the bread into Billy’s hands.

“Y’know, I forgive you. For that night.” Billy tightened his jaw. Steve’s eyes were a little green in the sun. “There was a lot goin’ on, and I was being sketchy. I don’t hold it against you.”

“I, uh, thanks, I guess. I’m sorry, about it.” Steve smiled at him again, the corners of his eyes crinkling just a bit.

“Yeah, I know.” Steve took a bite of his sandwich, his cheeks all cute and full. “And I’m more of a ham and cheese fan.” Billy rolled his eyes at Steve, taking with his mouth full of turkey sandwich.

“Sorry man, you get what Susan buys.” Steve laughed, his mouth still full. Billy was uncomfortably endeared by it.

“Don’t be surprised to find some lasagna on your porch one night soon.” And Steve winked at him, walking backwards towards the school. “You’re not so bad, Billy.”

“Tryin’ not to be.” Steve gave him a stupid little finger gun. Billy’s heart melted.

“You’re doin’ a good job.” And Steve set off back into the school.

#yikes writes #steve harrington #billy hargrove #steve harrington x billy hargrove #billy hargrove x steve harrington #harringrove #harringrove fic #harringrove ficlet #harringrove drabble

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organic-guacamole · 3 years ago

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episode 209 spoilers below

I'm so late today but here it is

I love EJ, he's finally learning to be happy. I'm so proud.

Ms Jenn = every boomer during zoom calls, like jeez yes we can hear you stop shouting at me.

LOVE THE SUBTLE JOKE ABOUT QUARANTINE "these dark times" "you mean spring break?"

ah yes, remember when we thought covid was just gonna give us a longer spring break? good times

SEBLOS

damn the passive aggressiveness from Carlos and the absolutely over it tone from seb✋

CASWELL COUSINS!!!!! THEY'RE THE BEST!!!!

we needed more if this kind of goofiness for the first part of season 2 that only such an iconic duo can provide.

old old movies-

is it even that old, or is Nini being a gen alpha rn-

i choose to imagine EJ being scared of the movie and hiding in Ashlyn's shoulder while she keeps a straight face and then EJ pretending to be tough afterwards

aww redlyn are soulmates.... yknow, if gingers had souls

(please ignore me)

y'all saw how EJ's face *lit up* when Gina logged on? how dare you tell me he doesn't like her

ofc she's no damsel in distress, she's Gina porter, she's amazing.

so do we think she'd be the type to just glare at suspicious people? or bark at them

do they not know that Rini broke up? or is Ms Jenn just wanting Nini to suffer through her heartbreak to make her a better actress....

speaking of, why is Nini in the call? she's not in the show anymore. Unless she is, even after the rose and the song got cut, which would be so unfair to all those that auditioned properly before she even came back but whatever, she's the main character I get it 🙄

big red is a hero honestly, Nini better thank him for changing the subject like that

I can't-

i won't work you over the break-

this woman would 100% work her kids 24/7 if it was legal and idk how to feel about it.

YES GINA USE THAT CHARM

QUEEN

FRENCH QUEEN

SHE LEARNT FROM THE BEST (antoine obvi)

smh the airport lady, eavesdropping on Gina's call.

The way she was so happy to answer EJ's call, "eej"

I love them your honour.

EJ WITH PAINTED NAILS YES PLEASE

great now we need to see Gina, Ashlyn and EJ having a complete spa day and EJ getting really into it and Gina and Ashlyn take pictures of him when he's laying down in a robe with a mask and cucumbers on his eyes.

finally we get to see Gina's side of portwell

the way she considered it as flirting, this is the sign she asked for in episode 6 come onnnnn

no is Asher/jack really doing tiktok dances in an airport-

Ricky is me. I am burrito.

oh Lynne, sweetie, I'm sorry but the blonde hair is not it

is that even the same lady or-

THE BEAN

THE CHICAGO BEAN

THE BIG OLD METAL BEAN IN THE MIDDLE OF THE CITY 😭

jetlag is my go to excuse for anything... I haven't travelled in 2 years.

"welcome to the Lynne and Mike gossip show. where we talk about our depressed son that we both neglect in certain ways! And now a word from our sponsor, Nord VPN..."

SO MANY CANDLES

WHAT DEMON IS LYNNE TRYING TO SUMMON IN HIS ROOM-

is Nina becoming social media obsessed EJ from season 1? AND SHE LIED ABOUT HAVING SONGS TOO PLEASE WHY ARW THEY RECYCLING THE SAME PLOT-

Gina smiling at the picture of her family on Instagram makes me so happy, idek why.

EJ's nails are so pretty, we needed to see it more (unless he had it on for the rest of the episode and I just.... didn't notice🧍🏽‍♀️)

oh not the tiktok kid✋

yes ma'am end this strange mans whole tiktok career

sir take a hint and leave

GINA NO DONT SAY YOUR LAST NAME HE COULD BE A HUMAN TRAFFICKER

Ricky, walking in style✨

weird kid, ok then Lynne, can't you see he's this close to the edge?

not all your fault baby Ricky, Nini sucks a bit more

RICKY YOU DIDN'T COME DOWN HARD ON THE SONG-

YOU ASKED WHAT IT WAS ABOUT AND SHE SHUT YOU DOWN-

PLEASE DO NOT BLAME YOURSELF

ok but the deleting comment thing was very bad

still don't know if I like Jack honestly

hmmm so Nini's calling herself Nini instead of Nina in her little egg seat, while trying to write a song without inspiration.... Nini, honey, Ricky was your muse, he inspired you to write all those songs, even if it wasn't good for the relationship.

that doesn't mean you gotta get back with him, or that you can't write a song that not about him butttt it'll take some time

the rainbow sticker in her box and her rainbow shirt-

anyways wbk she's not totally straight

Jack are you a criminal?

quick, Gina, check his ankle for a tracker

THE YES AND PRACTICE STRIKES AGAIN

the way Gina wasn't into it in episode 6 but she's used the technique twice now

stole her grandma's Pomeranian-

Jack where the hell did you pull that out from-

the fake crying killed me, that looks like so much fun though

anyone wanna raid a first class lounge with me?

wait so is jack not gonna go in with her?

wouldn't he go in too? help look for the credit card? SO CONFUSED

the first class lounge guy was so into the drama though, watch his face when they start arguing 😭

sorry to break this to you Kourtney, but you haven't even blocked the second act yet soooo...

take that as you will

I love how all of them are totally dissing the dance off

that's the most realistic part of this show tbh

shouldn't Nini have asked how she knew....since the start? why is the fact that her best friend has knowledge of a North high secret now dawning on her...

Howie is sweet honestly, at least he's trying to help. but I stand with Kourtney, don't take him back just because he sang an amazing song, and is giving you a heads up on what's gonna happen...

KOURTNEY IS ME TRYING TO LEAVE AN ONLINE CLASS

I hate school

ooo Nini's writing a song about bad internet connection 🤩🤩🤩

I never lie, except when I do-

son that is the creepiest thing you could say to a stranger that you've been "helping"

2 truths and a lie👀

he's an Ariana fan 100%

called it.

OLDER BROTHER-

WHAT-

free spirit? damn so brother porter was in that horse movie

so has she been kissed or not?????????

I feel like she's moved more than 15 times though so possibly

but then if she's moved so much, and before east high she never opened up to anyone, she's never been kissed then?? damn

same though Gina so let's be besties please

heartbreak president is a great song title idea, give Nini a call rn

but wait

is the no strings attached feeling thing about her telling Ricky she liked him? she thought she was moving away so she thought it'd be no strings attached???

guys I think I figured it out insert the "I've connected two dots" meme

THE DUKE SWEATSHIRT

IS THAT YOUR BOYFRIEND'S

OMG I LOVE I LOVE

NOT THAT I KNOW OF???

ma'am did you just kill me

yes you did

Lynne and Ricky have such a weird relationship

YES IT DID SUCK

TODD SUCKS

LYNNE SUCKS

yeah I get that you wanted Ricky to like Todd BUT THAT WASN'T THE TIME

right so we already know that Ricky was so desperate to keep Nini cuz he didn't want to be like his parents, and now Lynne's talking about this-

Richard needs a long hug

yes Lynne, it is your fault. thank you for finally admitting it.

YES DYE YOUR HAIR

BLOND HIGHLIGHTS RICKY WILL RISE AGAIN

"sometimes the best, last thing you can do for someone you love, is let them go."

gotta admit I teared up at that point

not me thinking big red was calling ms Jenn cupcake for a hot second-

Carlos please omg, you're at the "beach" and they're leaving for the pool?

also, why not just do the call from the hotel room please omg

"don't ask me"

"Carlos"

OMG WHAT HAPPENED

big red wants the tea

O M G

SEB IS JEALOUS

JEALOUS SEBBY IS MY FAVOURITE THING IDC

I'm surprised ms Jenn knew how to give Nini permission to screenshare tbh

So lily's been stalking the East high kids and spending time editing this video while she's supposedly in an immersion trip.... right

EJ and Ashlyn's picture is so chaotic, what even is happening there

"slacking off" bestie its spring break, obviously they're confident enough that they'll get it done in time so why not focus on your own musical.

jealous seb = sassy seb

please what if those guys Carlos is posing with are his cousins or something and that's why he's so confused about Seb

6 YEAR OLD EJ I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIM

Nini saying she's obsessed with her ex, that's not weird at all 👍

I can just tell Matt had a blast harassing Julia with those puppets.

Jack please dont be like that, "yet"

chances are you'll never see eachother again 🥰

(honestly sometimes I really miss those friends I made on trips and stuff when we'd spend the day or week together, only to never see them again....those were the good days though)

Ashlyn and Nini should write more songs..... something better than this one at least

Nini: "im good"

cue the Tia Mowry (please I can't spell) crying gif

oh I forgot Ricky was in the show for a hot second

1. where did Gina get to film this without people being around

2. did she just... randomly change her clothes???

ok but the transition between Carlos and EJ

*chefs kiss*

now everyone shut up, EJ's singing

oh i think I'm pregnant

HIS MUSCLES

YES KOURTNEY

I love how big red and Kourtney went from being "the best friends™" to the couple in season 1, to kinda close themselves and having their own plots

sebby makes me so happy

props to biggies editing skills honestly

PORTWELL BEING SIDE TO SIDE I CANT

AND SEBLOS OMG

big red lives for the drama

"wow" so true Ricky

no he is not cute, stop it

"holding" ok that's kinda cute

yeah EJ's a lucky guy😌

jokes aside, it's not that hard to exchange numbers-

keep in touch if you want

ok I really like Jack now

if he comes back in season 3, maybe have him be LGBTQ+ ?

like the only out characters they have rn are Seb and Carlos and they're like the sterotypes, yk?

I'd love to see jack kinda break the mold

Ricky's breaking my heart

that song just hurts

the only thing

now I don't hate Lynne????????

HOW DARE THEY WRITE IN A PROPER REDEMPTION ARC FOR HER

UGH IM SUPPOSED TO HATE HER FOREVER

I mean I don't live her now but she's good

but honestly

"mom can I show you something"

IT WAS SO BEAUTIFUL

THE PICTURE AND EVERYTHING OMG

I'm sobbing please help

Gina saying she's just waiting for the right guy and then EJ coming to the airport to pick her up late at night without her asking, offering to bring her back in the morning so she won't have to Uber, bringing her a granola bar (WHICH IS EXACTLY WHAT SHE FORGOT TO PACK) and without expecting anything in return???

ms ma'am you've got a keeper right there

her smile at the end was so heartwarming I really can't.

this episode was great.

it felt really short but I liked it, great character development for Ricky, Lynne and Gina.

Cant wait for next episode to see more of EJ being the ideal boyfriend /hj

#hsmtmts #hsmtmts s2 #hsmtmts season 2 #hsmtmts spoilers #ej caswell #ricky bowen #gina porter #seblos #nini salazar roberts #jack hsmtmts #carlos rodriguez #seb mathew smith #kourtney greene #big red #ashlyn caswell #caswell cousins #portwell will be the death of me #guac's episode text blocks :)

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marciabrady · 4 years ago

Note

Cinderella?

Favorite thing about her?: I love everything about her but I think people overlook how sassy she is and her bite! All of her comments to Lucifer, and the singing bit about Anastasia and Drizella, are so enriching and add a great depth of character. But also, how realistic she is! This was totally erased in that live action, but in the animated version, she gets so FRUSTRATED at times. She even misplaces her anger at the clock and Lucifer in the very opening scenes. We see her fight back to Lady Tremaine and win in certain cases- like when she asserts her right to go to the ball- but we also see it backfire, like when Lady Tremaine gives her more and more chores to do. Just the overall depiction of abuse is so realistic and I think people dislike how close to home it is. Our modern sensibilities call for all female characters to be superheros- look at Rapunzel's hair, Elsa's magic, and Moana's connection with the ocean. No one wants to see the depiction of realistic abuse and how it can wear on someone, or what those family dynamics look like behind closed doors. They want Cinderella to beat up all three women in her household or start an Etsy business or something lol but for all that being said, I still marvel at her strength of character. The fact that she picked herself up and went to the ball after 1) years of abuse, 2) having to assert her right to go in front of three of her abusers, 3) being physically assaulted and having the very clothes violently torn off her body is so??? Like I get social anxiety from going to public places- I can hardly imagine how she must've felt with ALL of those circumstances AND the fact that she didn't even have a chaperon bring her to the ball and I just love Cinderella so much omg I'm not crying, you are

Least favorite thing about her?: This question implies there's something to dislike about Cinderella which is WRONG except if we're talking about the live action, which is literally awful. The live action got her character so wrong and the entire cast of that film went on a press tour bashing the original Cinderella while upholding their own as the feminist approved version and I literally can't even think about it without boiling in rage. Especially because the original Cinderella possesses more of the qualities they claim the 2015 version has and the original lacks. UGH if you ever want to talk about this HMU because I have THOUGHTS

Do I like her movie?: HER MOVIE IS SO GREAT. The music is so unique and I'm obsessed with all the vocal talent. Like, the fact that Lucille Bliss interpreted the words 'Mother, mother, mother' on a written script LIKE THAT is everything. I can't find a single unlikable character though, like everyone brings it from a vocal, characterization, and animation standpoint. Also, it's animated so realistically! Compare Cinderella's thicker waist to any of the Renaissance and post Renaissance princesses and you'll see what I mean. But also, it's just so fun and joyful and lighthearted while also not shying away from addressing and depicting abuse in such a realistic way. Lady Tremaine is actually my favorite villain of all time, to this day, because of how understated but effective she is. UGH I LOVE

Favorite outfit she wears? I ALWAYS loved the pink dress the mice made for her the most as a child! Pink was my favorite color and she had her hair down and lookeD STUNNING. Also the fact that it was a thrift from her mom's is so cute <3 That being said, she literally doesn't have a bad outfit. Her wedding dress is the best one Disney's ever come up with, I don't even need to explain the enchanting quality of her ball gown, the servant dress looks so comfortable and functional, and even the nightdress is flattering to her!

Favorite song from her movie?: The reprises she sings of So This Is Love is hauntingly beautiful. I can literally hear it echoing throughout that hidden staircase on the way to her little attic room.

Favorite animal (or human) friend she has?: I'm sorry but I LOVE Bruno and Major the horse way more than I should. I just love the idea that most people view Cinderella as this ultra glamorous princess and her sidekicks are literally mice, an old bloodhound dog, and a rail thin horse. But, the dog and horse remind me of when we see her with her father, and seeing their fall to grace too serves to give Cinderella a sense of companionship and community and history outside of the mice who she presumably meets later on.

Which trait of her personality do I most see in myself?: Probably her frustration at things that are beyond her control. I also think her FOMO moment of missing the ball and trying to talk herself out of wanting to go before concluding "and it'll be completely wonderful" is so cute. But I also try to get along with people I hate, for the sake of family and things like work, but also end up shading them like Cinderella lol but I think in order to be resilient and live a successful life, you kinda have to roll with the punches the way she did and always believe in the possibility of something wonderful happening and I hope I maintain that ideology as beautifully as does Cinderella

How would I rate her prince?: TOP TIER! Listen, that eye roll he did at the ball is EVERYTHING. Also I love the idea of a prince literally tearing a kingdom apart to find me after a single dance. Plus, with his father being as animated as he is, you KNOW that family is entertaining to marry into. Also, he's a TOTAL hunk (only counting the first movie)

Where does she rank on my top 10 favorite princesses?: TOP TIER AS WELL. Her, Snow White, Aurora, and Ariel are like on a whole other tier for me where they literally exist as my favorite characters of all time and they can't even be categorized as princesses because my love for them extends past any labels.

Put a Disney Princess in my ask and I'll answer!

#historianofenchancia #ask #thank you!!!#cinderella

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bonjour-rainycity · 4 years ago

Text

Double Heart | Chapter Twenty-Two ~ Cosima

|previous part|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 3549

Warnings: None

A/n Thanks for your patience, and happy reading :)

Our first day of traveling is rough.

In my months of comfort in Imladris, I easily forgot the vigor with which galloping on a horse shakes you. By the time we stop for the night, every muscle and bone in my body is screaming for rest. And, despite Haldir’s assurance that I will get used to the weight and awkwardness of the metal that is somehow both cold and hot, the chainmail has grated on my nerves all day.

Haldir helps me down from Faervel and I wince when my feet make contact with the ground.

“Walk around for a while,” he advises, then nods towards Glorfindel. “I’ll return later — I’m going to coordinate watches and take the first shift.”

“Okay.” I smile up at him, waiting for a kiss goodbye, but he just nods once and then turns, off to get to work.

I purse my lips. I guess he’s sore from riding, too.

Trying to push the uneasiness from my mind, I spend just a few moments walking and stretching before I turn to my own tasks. I’m in charge of Faervel and two of Glorfindel’s horses, so caring for them will occupy me until supper.

{***}

When Baranor calls for dinner, I hurry to our campsite. We are close enough to Elrond’s borders that Haldir and Glorfindel feel we can light a small fire and, while nothing on the road could compare to the delicacies served at Elrond’s table, a meal cooked with fire is much better than stale bread and soggy fruit. I sit on a rock near the flames, accepting the bowl Baranor places in my hands. Alex, Glorfindel, and one of the extra guards, Nodron, join us.

After a few minutes of eating in tired silence, I hear footsteps behind me, and turn with a smile to welcome Haldir from watch. He nods at me and accepts the bowl handed to him. He sits next to me on the rock — that’s normal — but keeps distance between us and barely spares a glance in my direction. Instead, he alternates between talking strategy with Glorfindel and Nodron and scanning our surroundings. I huff, eating my soup in silence. This earns me a brief raised eyebrow, but his focus soon returns to the mountains and his conversations.

What is going on with him? Did I upset him somehow? Is he grouchy from the day of traveling?

With my food finished and no one talking to me, I have no reason to stay gathered by the fire. I stand and take my bowl to the stream, wash it out, and then return it to the bag holding our cooking supplies.

“I’m going to bed unless anyone needs anything,” I declare, picking my bag up from the ground. I’m met with shrugs and murmurs, but nothing more.

With a huff, I throw my bedroll on the ground, spread it out, and take my hair out of its braid. I roll onto my back, frowning when I notice that the stars are covered by clouds. The chainmail digs into my skin, and I shift uncomfortably. I sit up and take a cursory look around. No one can see me. How would they know?

Quickly, I stand and pull off my tunic, then tug the chainmail after it. As soon as the biting, cold metal is gone, I put my tunic back on, eager for its warmth. Already, I feel better.

“Put it back on.”

I yelp, the metal falling to the ground with a tinny clink. I whip around to face Haldir, who has appeared out of nowhere. “Where did you come from?”

My eyes have yet to adjust to the night, so I can’t read his expression, but I do see when he shrugs his shoulders. “You said you were going to bed, no? So, I followed.”

I narrow my eyes, deciding to just get to the point. “I’m not sleeping in the chainmail. It’s uncomfortable, and I don’t sleep well on the road as it is.”

“You are sleeping in the chainmail,” he counters, no room for flexibility in his voice. He bends over to lay his own bedroll a few feet from mine. Huh. Does he not want to sleep closer to me? “We could be attacked at any moment, including during the night.”

I shift on my feet, glancing warily at the peaks and valleys that surround us.

Haldir huffs, looking up at me from the ground. I’ve adjusted to the limited light and can now see the exasperated look he gives me. “I do not want to frighten you, but I do want you to be realistic. Should we be attacked, the chainmail could safe your life, so you will wear it. We are not having this discussion again.”

I set my hands on my hips and grit my teeth. So he ignores me all day and now he’s talking to me like I’m one of his wardens? Oh, no. I tilt my head to the side, staring him down. “Have you ever heard of a compromise? Do you even know what the word means?”

He stands, his towering height and stern expression creating quite an intimidating presence. But unfortunately for him, he’s kissed me softly, cuddled closer to me in the middle of the night, and told me how much he loves me. It’s kind of hard to be intimidated by someone after that.

He sets his feet. “This is not a question of compromise, it is a question of safety. I—”

“—It is a question of compromise, actually.” I cut him off. “I agreed—begrudgingly, might I add—to wear the uncomfortable, heavy chainmail for this journey. I’m only doing it for you. So that means you have to meet me in the middle and give a little. If we’re attacked, I promise I’ll put it back on. There. Compromise.”

He only raises an eyebrow. “So you are telling me that, should orcs rain arrows upon us, chaos erupt, and a legion of warriors come at us with sword and spear, you are going to take the time to undress, put the armor on, redress, and then attempt to save your life?”

Well. He’s got me there. I sniff, not ready to let him win this. “Yes.”

He doesn’t move. “Then by all means, when you study strategy for over three thousand years, fight in countless battles, and lead the most formidable military force in the realm, you can make that choice. But for now, you are a fragile, stubborn, human woman that, despite her ability to make me want to pull my hair out, I love very, very much. So you will wear the chainmail at all times.” Without breaking eye contact, he bends down, scoops the metal up, and pushes it into my hands.

I grit my teeth.

With a huff, I tug my tunic off once more. I feel a deep satisfaction when I finally make him break his stoic demeanor. He watches for a fraction of a second before nearly hurting his neck snapping his head to the sky so quickly. I smirk, pulling the chainmail over my body once more, then adding the tunic.

“You can look now.”

He clears his throat and lowers his eyes to mine, nodding once. “Thank you.”

I roll my eyes. “I didn’t do it for your gratitude, Marchwarden.”

He shakes his head and lies down on his bedroll. I sit on mine, gathering my cloak over me like a blanket before lying back.

Neither of us speaks.

After a few minutes, soft noises arise in the vicinity as those not on watch make their way to their own bedrolls. Footsteps crush the grass near my head and something heavy and warm drops over me. I raise up on my elbow, opening my eyes to the tall, grinning figure of Glorfindel.

“Here you go, dear Lady Cosima,” he declares in a near sing-song voice. “I have brought you an extra blanket. It seems you are in the path of a cold front, and I would not want you to suffer for it.”

I turn to look over my shoulder at Haldir, biting my lip to stop the laughter escaping at his glower. Glorfindel’s meaning is lost on no one.

I turn back to my friend and thank him.

“It is no problem,” he waves it off, still grinning from ear to ear. “Though, if you continue to find yourself in this uncomfortable position, my bedroll is nearer to the fire.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You would switch with me?”

“No.” He winks, making sure both Haldir and I can see it. “I would allow you to join me.”

My mouth falls open, my shocked laugher sounding through the clearing. I grin, playing along. “I shall keep that in mind.”

With a final, pointed look at Haldir, Glorfindel returns to his own bedroll.

I pull the new blanket over my shoulders, snuggling into it. It smells like the outdoors, and I breathe it in. The exhaustion of the day hits me. “Goodnight Haldir, I love you,” I call, not bothering to turn around.

His annoyed grumble is the last thing I hear before sinking into sleep.

{***}

The sun rises and brings wth it a cool chill, hinting at the autumn to come. I change into fresh clothes and brush my teeth quickly, re-braiding my hair as I go. With as many of us as there are, it doesn’t take long to tack up the horses, pack the bags, dole out breakfast, and get on our way.

Haldir smiles when I meet him at Faervel’s side. He reaches for me and I think he’s about to pull me in for a hug and make up for our disagreement last night, but instead of encircling me, his hands pat at my sides — he’s feeling for the chainmail!

I gasp, pulling away from him and glare at him in accusation. “You don’t trust me!”

He only smirks haughtily and drops to one knee, waiting to help me onto the horse. “Just checking. Now please get on the horse, Cosima, we haven’t got all day.”

I grumble and press my foot into his hands with more force than is strictly necessary. He chuckles and swings me up, settling in front of me a moment later. He nudges Faervel to encourage him to move forward, quickly guiding us nearer to the front of the line. While Glorfindel is here, he and one of his guards take point. Faervel seems dissatisfied with this, and Haldir frequently has to to tug on the reins to remind him to keep his place in line.

Behind me, I hear the familiar sound of Roch’s whinny, and I turn around in greeting. Rumil and I lock eyes. I smile. He clenches his jaw and lifts his chin in the air, avoiding my gaze. I sigh sadly and turn to face forward once more. I guess I deserve that.

Haldir shifts and a warm, calloused hand encases mine against his stomach. When he speaks, it’s in a voice so low I can barely hear it — probably to keep the others from listening in. “It won’t be like this forever.”

But I don’t have forever. And neither do you.

I bite the words back before they can escape my lips. It’s something Haldir and I both already know. Saying it out loud won’t do us any good. “Has he spoken to you?”

Haldir shakes his head, eyes continuing their scan of our surroundings. “Not yet, outside of what is necessary. But he will, I’m sure of it.”

The hope for a future reconciliation will have to be enough. With a sigh, I lean my cheek against Haldir’s shoulder blade, Faervel’s trot jostling me from side to side. We haven’t even been on the road an hour and I’m already longing for my bedroll.

“Did you really not sleep well,” Haldir asks, a hint of guilt in his voice.

I decide to let him off the hook. He really is only trying to keep me safe. “Yes, but it’s not the chainmail’s fault. It’s just getting used to the ground, and I was cold, and being on the road again…well, you know.” I sigh again, stopping my words. He can fill in the rest of my sentence. He knows well that, though I feel better traveling in a larger company and with some self-defense training behind me, being in the orcs’ territory still makes me nervous since the attack.

Haldir doesn’t say anything for a while, just nods absently while his eyes scan over the ridges to our left and right. “Can I join you tonight after watch?”

I blink. “Of course.” Then, I psych myself up, hoping I don’t sound too unsure or hurt. But I have to ask — it’s been bothering me since yesterday. “Why didn’t you last night?”

Haldir makes a noise of apology. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Our nights together have been in the privacy of your bedroom. I didn’t want to put you in a position where you would be close to me while surrounded by others.”

I breathe out a shaky laugh, glad that’s all it is. “That doesn’t bother me! I just worried that you didn’t want to be seen with me so publicly.” I take another deep breath, forcing myself to get the words out. “You’ve pretty much ignored me since we left Imladris.”

His shoulders tense. Then, he twists in his seat just enough that we can look each other in the eye. “I’m sorry, it was not my intention to treat you that way. It’s just—” he sighs, shaking his head. “I can afford to relax in Imladris and will be able to once we get to Lothlórien, but the road is completely different. Say I were to kiss you or hold your hand, and become distracted. In that one moment, I could miss something, and that could cost the life of someone here. I can’t risk that.”

I nod, the pieces coming together. “I can understand that.” I raise up, just high enough to press a kiss to his cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

{***}

Haldir takes the second watch shift, so I fall asleep on my own. But late in the night, I’m awoken by warm arms encircling me and pulling me against a solid chest.

I smile, snuggling into the warmth. “Hi.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” he whispers, mindful of our companions.

“It’s alright.” I match his volume. “How was watch?”

He pushes a strand of hair over my shoulder and smooths it down my back. “Quiet.”

I hum in response, already slipping back into sleep.

He presses a tender kiss to my forehead. “Goodnight, melethril.”

{***}

An hour into our journey the next morning, dark clouds form ahead.

Haldir curses under his breath.

I rest my chin against his back, trying to use him to block the wind. “That doesn’t look fun.”

“No, it does not,” he agrees, voice grave.

The wind blows again, and I shiver.

“Not minding the layer of armor now, are you,” he teases, tilting this head slightly so I can see the upturn of his cheek.

I roll my eyes, not about to admit that I’m thankful for the extra layer. “Eyes on the path, Marchwarden.”

He leans to the side and hands me the reins. “Here.” Before I can register what he’s doing, he’s gripped Faervel’s mane and swung from the front of the horse to the back.

“What—” I sputter, whipping my head around to stare at him in disbelief. “How did you do that?”

“Practice.” He shrugs like it’s nothing, but his chest puffs out proudly.

I shake my head, still trying to figure it out. But all thoughts die when he shifts, pressing himself against my back. He takes his cloak and arranges it to fall over my shoulders and cross at my front, providing another layer of warmth. He takes the reins from me and holds them in front, his arms resting against my sides.

I lean back against his chest. “I’m not gonna lie, I like this way of riding much better.”

He makes a noise of appreciation. “I thought you might.” He presses a quick kiss to my cheek then returns to all-business.

I purse my lips. I never really considered how frustrating it would be to be in the constant company of others for three weeks straight. Because right now, I want to turn around and kiss him until neither of us can breathe, but I can’t.

But the thoughts of what else I’d like to do to him wash away with the torrent of rain that falls on us. I gasp loudly, streams of cold water pelting my face. The cloak Haldir had made for me is helping — I’m not soaked through like last time, but the rain is quite persistent. I look over my shoulder, seeking out Alex. He slouches on the back o Baranor’s horse, hunched against the wind and the cold.

I turn my head to face forward, calling loud enough that I hope Haldir can hear me over the thunderous rain. “Is it warmer in Lothlórien?”

His chest twitches against my back as he shifts to accommodate Faervel’s changed gait. “It rarely gets cold enough for snow, but we do see the odd storm like this, and that can really drop the temperature.”

“Wonderful,” I grumble, and shrink against him in hopes of warming up. Cold water follows the tendrils of my hair and slides down my back, over my chest, under my legs. It’s so uncomfortable. But the only thing to do is press on.

{***}

We stop for the night in the same cave we rested in on the way to Imladris. Glorfindel orders a fire to be started immediately, and his guards get to work. Minutes later, Haldir leads my shivering form deep into the cave and stops me next to the flames.

“I hate the cold,” I grumble, reaching my hands as close to the fire as I dare.

“Agreed,” Haldir murmurs, peeling the cloak from my body and lying it on the ground where it can dry. A second later, he hands me a pair of my least-wet clothes. The ellyn in the cave respectfully turn their backs while I change, but I know I’ve seen most of them naked by now, so they’ve probably seen me as well.

Ah, the joys of traveling.

Alex collapses on the other side of the fire, giving me a haggard nod. “Doing okay?”

I grin tiredly back at him. “About the same as you.”

He chuckles ruefully, shaking his head.

Haldir throws a blanket over my shoulders and tosses one to Alex. They were encased in a material similar to my cloak, so they’re mostly dry. “I will return shortly. Do not move,” he cautions, standing and leaving my side.

Alex and I warm up in silence, each of us too occupied by our discomfort. After a while, I turn to speak to him, but he has fallen asleep, snoring softly against his bedroll.

Minutes later, Haldir reappears with dinner, cooked on the larger fire near the front of the cave. It seems this one is only meant for the freezing humans.

“How are you,” he asks, tugging the blanket tighter around me.

I chuckle at his obvious worry. “Much better, thank you. And thanks for dinner.”

Haldir grimaces. “Thank Glorfindel. Though, proceed with caution, he is not an excellent cook.”

Warily, I take a bite of whatever dinner is, then scrunch up my face at the oddly sour taste. “No, he is not.”

Haldir laughs, settling himself behind me and pulling my back against his chest. “Regardless, I still recommend you eat.”

The empty feeling in my stomach concurs. We sit in silence, warming up and eating.

Haldir picks up one of my strands of hair so it catches the light of the fire. “It’s so wavy when it’s wet.”

I snort. “And it’s going to be frizzy when it dries. How do you get your hair to look so nice all the time?”

He grins, jokingly tossing his hair into my face. “Genetics, my love.”

At this, I laugh loudly, then clamp a hand over my mouth at Alex’s sleepy noise of annoyance. Haldir and I don’t move until Alex turns over and his snores echo through the cave once more.

Despite my efforts, a yawn escapes, betraying the cold exhaustion already weighing heavily in my bones. I push my bowl into Haldir’s hands. “You can finish my food. I’m more tired than hungry.”

Haldir places the bowl on the ground. “No thank you, I’ve already had more than enough of Glorfindel’s cooking.”

I grin, not blaming him one bit. I stretch out and, getting the hint, Haldir shifts to give me enough room to recline on my bedroll. To my pleasant surprise, he doesn’t rise to join the others. Instead, he lies down next to me and allows me to press my face into his chest, sandwiched between him and the warmth of the fire.

I glance up at him, forcing my eyes to stay open. “You don’t have watch tonight?”

“Not tonight,” he promises, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Sleep well.”

A/n Thanks for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs make me happy :) Let me know if you would like a tag!

|next chapter|

|masterlist|

Tolkien tag list: @anangelwhodidntfall @eru-vande

Haldir tag list: @tolkien-apologist @that-cute-stranger

Double Heart tag list: @lainphotography @themerriweathermage @thophil2941btw @kenobiguacamole @wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse @from-patroclus-with-love @boywivlove @ordinarymom1 @my-darling-haldir @sweet-bea-blossom @moony-artnstuff @sleepyamygdala @thranduilseyebrows

#haldir #haldir x ofc #haldir x oc #haldir fanfic #haldir fanfiction #double heart

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oceanid-writes · 3 years ago

Note

hi-hi, may i have a mha matchup, please? otherwise just ignore me lol.

bisexual | girl | INTP

appearance: I'm 164cm(~5'4) tall, slim&athletic, and I usually give off the 'cute good girl' vibe, so ppl are shocked when they hear me cursing a lot lol. Long brown hair, my deer eyes have the same color, I have purple circles under them - I wear eyeglasses. My clothing style is very girly, mostly wearing skirts and dresses(soft girl/light academia - kind of a mixture of them). There's a tiny, barely visible scar above my right eyebrow, I've opened our car's door on my head lmao.

personality: I have a confusingly dual, hard-to-like personality. First impression is either a stoic resting bitch face bitch or the awkward, cute and polite girl.

I'm faking myself and good at keeping my emotions under control, I'm really adaptable(sometimes full-stoic, other times talkative) too. I HATE showing weaknesses, I'm hiding them from even people I love, I simply can't stand emotional vulnerability. Making me talk about my issues, problems? Nearly impossible.

My way of thinking is quite realistic and highly critical, I have opinions about everything, I get passionate while sharing them, deep conversations are keeping me alive. Though, I rarely share these lol. Sometimes I'm even told that I'm wise? Kind of.

I'm the CLUMSIEST person, and kinda awkward too, cringe situations always find me. Quite easily get jumped/scared/pranked. My humour is colorful: TEASING, dark, morbid, absurd, trollish. Sometimes I can come off phlegmatic, rude and very-very mean. Gonna roast the shit out of you. Also, I zone out a LOT always asking back 'what did you say?'

I'm generally a kind, polite, caring and patient person tho. I take loyalty quite seriously, but I don't get attached easily. I have a kind of unapproachable, 'emotions ew' vibes, but I have a softie side who adores cuddling and giving love, affection to people - it's kind of a selfish coping mechanism for me at the same time, bc the feeling being needed is incredibly comforting for me - so I it's a mania, an inner-pressure for me to be a reliable figure. Also, I can be just a dumb idiot and loosen up with my little gang if I'm in the mood. Once my close friend told me that I'm an unpredictable person. I need a lot of alone time&space.

I'm also vain, snobbish, pro procastrinator, lazy and selfish just to mention some negative traits. I have massive self-hatred spirals, thinking I am a burden, unworthy for love, useless on my bad days; slight imposter syndrome I guess.

My love language is words of affirmation&quality time, and when I have to express it, I'm best with acts of service. I'm not so romantic, valentines day and similar stuff just gonna make me roll my eyes, but I'll adapt to my partner's needs.

hobbies/likes: classical literature, theatre, politics, hiking, sightseeing, travelling, mysteries, reading about disappearances(crimes, like Sodder siblings, Tara Calico etc.) and (unsolved) crimes, trying out new things, yoga, running, horse riding, table tennis, listening to music, cats, thunderstorms, rainy days, cider, tequila, going out and drinking with friends, smoking sometimes, family time, psychology, sexual psychology, reading trash/funny FB comments, massaging others, deep converstaions, surrealism, anything indie

Hi! Based on everything you said, I think the yandere best fit for you would be Miruko! Sorry if this matchup is a bit short, I am not feeling well but I’m trying to push through these and it’s hard to write a ton when I can’t think completely straight.

Warnings: Kidnapping, yandere behaviour.

Boku No Hero Academia Yandere Matchup

With most other yanderes, it does matter who their darling is, but Miruko won’t care if you’re a civilian, villain, or pro-hero. She still finds you adorable. Even if she meets you will your mean-looking resting face first, the second she sees how polite and cute you are, it’s all over. Miruko is a very confident person, so I do see her getting along best with some more awkward and less happy-go-lucky. It’s a good thing that she’s also pretty realistic (being a pro-hero who has to risk her life on a daily basis can do that to you) and she loves to talk about important matters with you and get feedback. You better show her your soft side though, because sometimes after a long day of work, Miruko just wants to cuddle with you.

The other great thing about Miruko, is that she does not care what you’ve done, or how you act. If she wasn’t a yandere sure, she might not see you in the same light, but Yandere Miruko completely infantilizes all of your bad actions and behaviours. She thinks of it as “oh y/n’s negative traits are so adorable”. Of course, this does expand to worse things too, like if you need to be alone or just have time away from her, she will twist it into being a joke or you being in a bad mood. She’s completely delusional, and while she will listen to what you say, if it’s something she really doesn’t want to hear, she ignores it and continues on.

She will totally kidnap you too, (it doesn’t matter if you’re ignoring her or accepting her feelings, she’ll just want you all to herself) and make sure you can’t see anyone else. Miruko gets very jealous easily, and she likes being the center of your attention.

When she’s home just look at her, ok? She wouldn’t want to take away your tv and book privileges, again.

#yandere miruko #bnha #yandere bnha #mha #mha fanfiction #mha matchup #yandere mha #yandere my hero academia #my hero academia #miruko

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qqueenofhades · 4 years ago

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What weapons were used during the Crusades? I remember something vaguely about bows/crossbows being important but nothing else. Thank you :D

Nonnie, if you are (as I suspect) asking this for Very Important Fic Research Purposes, let me just say: you, my good gentleman/lady/nonbinary pal/mineral/vegetable, are Extremely Valid, and I salute you utterly. Let us just quietly assume that is in fact what you are doing. Buckle up, because yes. You have to consider individual and collective weaponry, differences in Christian vs. Muslim armies, tactics, and their development over the crusades. Never fear, I am here to make it entertaining (ish) for you. Let’s start with the individual warriors.

How To Arm Your Crusader: Nicky Edition

First! Nicky is from Genoa, which was most notably involved in the First and Third Crusades. I mention this because if you’re deciding to place him among a contingent of his fellow countrymen, it’s useful to know where you can most easily do that and where it would be most realistic to have them fighting. It will also make a difference for what he’s armed with. You are correct about crossbows being one of the major weapons of the crusades; indeed they were so effective in medieval warfare generally that the church tried to ban them, at the Third Lateran Council in 1179, from being used on fellow Christians. (Muslims were still fair game.) Longbow archers were used occasionally (though it wasn’t until the 13th century, mostly after the end of the crusades, that they became a major battlefield force), but Nicky would definitely be a crossbowman or at least know how to use one, because we have multiple mentions of Genoese crossbowmen in the sources. (Me in the shower this morning: YOU IDIOT OF COURSE HE’S A CROSSBOWMAN! YOU SEE HIM WITH A LONG RIFLE AND EVERYTHING!). Notably, Richard the Lionheart fought the Battle of Jaffa (1192) with 54 Genoese crossbowmen, about 100 knights, and 2 horses. It is up to you if you decide to use this fact or not, ahem.

Crossbows are easier to learn how to use than longbows, but require strength to wind the mechanism and launch the bolt. There is also a more powerful version called the arbalest, which had a frame made of metal instead of wood. These also had a longer range, so they were in fact a bit like the assault rifles of their day. Unlike a rifle, however, you have to have enough time to fire the weapon (which takes a while) and therefore it’s not as useful if the enemy is right on top of you. They’re most helpful in attacking an enemy in a more stationary position (such as, say atop a tower or a wall) and where you can have enough space to reload without being overrun.

We see that Nicky has a broadsword, which would also be a fairly standard weapon for a crusader. Most boys started their training at the age of 7, and the value in achieving the rank of knighthood would rise steadily over the course of the crusades, complementing the development of the ethos of chivalry. At the time of the Norman Conquest (1066), we could still have “free” or “unfree” knights, and it was a mark of military service rather than a distinct social rank. But with the popularity of chivalric literature in the 12th century, the ideas and prestige associated with knighthood skyrocketed. I know I’ve written some posts about this somewhere, which I’m too lazy to go find right now, but you can possibly find them in my medieval history tag. In essence, chivalry means martial prowess. It has a more romanticized aspect, of course, but it’s mostly about kicking ass, though it does prescribe certain codes of conduct for combatants (on both sides) and for noble-born women, as well as a strong religious aspect. If you do want more info on this and how to avoid the stereotypes of a chivalric knight, let me know and I’ll go dig up my old stuff.

There’s also a big difference between fighting on foot (infantry) and fighting on horseback (cavalry). All the footsoldiers were a lower or more common rank, and if you had a horse, you were almost certainly a knight or a professional soldier. Footsoldiers usually were pike (spear)men, since even if you only have long spears and a shield wall, you can throw together a pretty awesome defense. (At the Battle of Hastings, English fyrdmen with just pikes and shields almost defeated multiple Norman heavy cavalry charges.) Plus, a spear doesn’t take too much special training: just poke the sharp end into the other guy, as Jon Snow might say. Hence it was easier for non-professional soldiers or citizen conscripts to use it rather than the more specialized skills for knights.

The best warhorses were known as destriers. They were specially trained to kick, bite, and raise as much hell as their masters in battle; they were expensive and prized. A fast, strong horse often also used for war or for fast travel is a courser. A horse for non-battle or basic transport situations would be a palfrey or a rouncey (though lower-status men-at-arms could also ride one in battle). We can decide whether or not Nicky has one of these.

Armor! The Christian crusaders wore steel (chainmail) which was a major advantage in close-quarters combat. This is not the plate armor you may be thinking of, since full-body armor didn’t get used until around the 14th century at the earliest and came into full vogue in the 15th/16th century (by which cannons had often made it obsolete and dangerous). Chainmail is no joke: it weighs at least thirty pounds and boys had to wear it from childhood to know how to stand up in it, let alone move. (I.e. all those movies where anyone just slaps it on and is fine are liars.) You would wear several layers: first an undertunic, then a padded leather gambeson, the steel hauberk itself (often thigh-length), and then a cloth tabard on top, which displays your badge or flag or your cross, if you’re a crusader (though these were far from ubiquitous and sometimes color-coded by country). That way people can also tell which side you belong to. You wear a helmet on your head (obviously), vambraces and gloves on your arms, and greaves on your legs, over heavy leather boots. Now imagine all that coming at you with a spear on a charging warhorse.

.... what I’m saying is, medieval knights could kick your ASS.

You can also use daggers, hatchets, and other small arms (morningstars are cool, but alas, were never really used in the field). A knight sometimes carried a special blade known as a misericorde, which had the gruesome but necessary purpose of finishing off a wounded enemy (or friend) who hadn’t died immediately from their injury but wasn’t going to survive it either. Welp.

And with that:

How To Arm Your Muslim Warrior: Joe Edition

So we’ve got Nicky sorted: what about his More Than Boyfriend mortal enemy? Well, for the most part, it will look something like the above. Christian crusaders of the period would have called Muslims “Saracens,” which was the name for them, along with less flattering things (heathens, infidels, etc) but when in doubt, if writing from a crusader POV, you can just use Saracens. Actual Muslims obviously never use this word to refer to themselves. They did not have crossbows, but rather shorter and more mobile bows that were designed to be used from horseback. Arabian horses were smaller in stature than European destriers, but faster and more maneuverable, and had a legendary reputation for speed and temperament. Muslim forces would also sometimes ride to the battlefield and then dismount to fight.

We see that Joe has a sword with a shorter and wider/slightly curved blade in comparison to Nicky’s long, straight broadsword. In my fic, I call this a saif, which is just the Arabic word for sword and is how Muslims of the period would have referred to it (the word “scimitar” is from an Italian name for it and wasn’t used until at least the 16th century). It can mostly refer to any Islamic sword in this style, though there are different names for regional variations. If you want to give him a really cool and culturally significant weapon (especially since I headcanon him as a Fatimid Shia Muslim from Egypt), you could give him the zulfiqar, which was a double-pointed sword used by Ali ibn Abi Talib, a cousin of Prophet Muhammad and one of the main figures in Shia Islam. It is often represented on flags and in battlefield invocations. The actual zulfiqars that exist are more often dated from the 16th/17th century with the Ottomans or from 19th-century Persia, rather than from the crusades, but hey, you can always say that Joe had something to do with that. Sidenote, research the differences in the various Muslim dynasties of the crusader period, as they’re definitely not one size fits all (especially in re: the prominence of Sunni sultans in the later crusades, and how Joe might have thought about that).

As noted, the Muslims didn’t wear steel armor, which was a disadvantage to them in close-quarters combat with crusaders. Their armor was made of boiled leather and lamellar scales, designed to be light and good for long-distance riding rather than a heavy battle. They would also have helmets (in various shapes and styles), gloves, etc. An archer would have a quiver and have to think about using, reclaiming, or mending arrows after a battle (the Never Ending Quiver in every movie ever: ALSO WRONG).

I will confess that I don’t know as much about Islamic warrior ethoi comparable to chivalry as I should. However, the crusades were taking place against the backdrop of the Islamic Golden Age, in which the culture, sophistication, and scholarly study in the Islamic world was at its height, and there are plenty of artists, poets, mathematicans, and philosophers that Joe would be familiar with, that would guide his actions in the way that chivalry might for a knight. Such as, for example, Avicenna (Ibn Sina) from Samarkand, or the Banu Musa brothers of Baghdad. There would also obviously be the Qur’an and the ahaditha (sayings of Prophet Muhammad) and other religious texts and traditions. Obviously if you’re going to use any of these, be respectful, do your research, and present it in a positive way.

And then of course there is the:

Big-Ass Cool Weapons of Major Boom

So what else do we have on a large scale, aside from the individual warriors? For a start, we have (on the crusader side) siege engines, such as mangonels, trebuchets, towers, etc. These are not comparable to the Return of the King-esque “break off a chunk of the city with every hit,” but they were pretty damn effective; during the Third Crusade, one stone from a trebuchet was reputed to have killed twelve people in the market in Acre. Richard the Lionheart also hauled along a lot of high-quality stone from Sicily to make better missiles than the soft crumbly sandstone of the Holy Land. There’s a reference to a “cat,” which seems to have been a tower containing multiple compartments for crossbowmen, which could be pushed up against city walls. There are also battering rams and other blunt-force weapons, since sieges were a main part of every crusade. (In fact, commanders tried to avoid open battles as much as they could, though there were also usually at least one on each crusade.) Defensive strategy included digging deep ditches around walls, to prevent your opponent’s siege engines from getting too close, or just throwing stuff down at them as they tried to climb with scaling ladders. With this, we also have....

Greek fire! It’s semi-similar to wildfire from Game of Thrones, even if not quite as effective, but still a pretty cool weapon. The Muslims used it first; it didn’t enter Christian warfare until Geoffrey Plantagenet introduced it in 1151 (his grandson, Richard the Lionheart, also got to be rather fond of it). It was a long-burning liquid explosive that could burn even on water and couldn’t be put out by regular means; it was very feared and very effective. So if you were under siege and had some of that stuff to pour down on the defenders, it would be useful (along with boiling pitch, oil, or other more ordinary substances). Your enemy might plan for that or try to defend against it by using hides soaked in water or some other kind of shield.

Anyway, I’m sure there is more I could say here, but this is already MORE than long enough. I hope it is helpful to start with. And inspirational. Ahem.

#joe x nicky #medieval history #medieval warfare #long post #anonymous #ask #the old guard meta

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putflowersinmyhair-callmepretty · 4 years ago

Text

The fate of a nun (Finan x OFC); part 7

GENERAL A/N: Hi there! This story is my first attempt to write a fanfiction. English is not my first language, so feel free to let me know how to improve my writing/language skills 😊 I will try and post a chapter per week, let’s see how it goes! The story takes place in season 3 and you will notice that I have used some of the sequences and dialogues from the tv series, changing them to include my OC. I did try not to be too colloquial and informal with my writing -giving the time of the story- but I preferred to make it more enjoyable and “readable” than realistic, same goes for Finan’s accent. I’m nervous and excited to share my work, hope you enjoy! Bacini, Cate.

A/N: Hiiiii! Sorry for the long break, I’ve been veeeery busy with uni :( Happy New Year and I hope you like this chapter, cause I love it!

Summary: The life of the young novice Aoife completely changes when the Lady of Mercia arrives to the Abbey of Wincelcumb. Oaths, battles and love will turn her in a warrior.

General warnings: Violence, Blood, Strong Language, Smut, Fluff, Graphic description of violence

Chapter’s warning: Blood and little of Finan in this chapter.

Chapter Six.

Chapter Seven: Cenric

Abbey of Wincelcumb, Mercia, five years before. The harebells brushed against Aoife’s ankles, leaving an itchy kiss on her soft skin, and she laughed lightly. She had few memories of her mother, but every time the breeze moved her hair, it felt just like her touch. “Quick, quick, child!” Sister Aeskel mumbled patting her back lightly “Always so distracted! God really takes special care of you, I’m surprised you haven’t fallen into a ravine yet.” she growled in her thick Northumbrian accent, but she was trying to suppress a smile. “But you wouldn’t let me die, would you, Sister?” “ Course not! I wouldn’t waste precious help!” Aoife’s cackle was covered by a drumming of hooves, so close that the ground under her naked feet trembled. A beautiful black horse was galloping up the hill, right towards them. “I looked, and behold, a black horse; and he who sat on it had a pair of scales in his hand.” Sister Aeskel cried terrified, but Aoife was not scared, nor believed that the horse was an omen of the apocalypse. As a punch on her stomach, a memory came: a young Aoife was running her small hands on the smooth coat of a horse and her mother was begging her to be careful, a worried look on her ripe, sweet face. “Aoife!” the Sister screamed, pulling her aside just moments before the horse trampled the ground she was standing. It did not stop, running straight towards the Abbey. On its back, a body lay pathetically, like one of those rag dolls sprawled in the corner of her room. “Sister, ‘twas a person!” “I know child, I’m old not blind! Come, quick! Try not to harm yourself until we’re at the Abbey!” There was a library in the nunnery, a square room with the four walls covered with books from floor to ceiling. When she was six, the Abbess forced her to read each of those books. “Books clear your path to Heaven. A full mind is a full soul” she used to say, and at the time Aoife was too scare to disobey; little by little, she started enjoying reading, which pleased the Abbess greatly, and many months before her fourteenth birth she had already read every book in the room. She especially liked the pictures, she would run the tips of her fingers on the lines, her touch light as a feather, careful not to ruin the thin parchment. There was one particular image that intrigued her: a deposition of Christ, his body covered by a thin cloth. The man, lying on the infirmary bed, reminded her of that image. He was sleeping, his breath shallow and heavy. A sheet covered his waist, and a wide and deep wound run down his chest. When Aoife and Sister Aeskel reached the Abbey, the horse was neighing loudly and banging his hooves on the ground. The man had fallen down its back and was now laying on the stairs, a puddle of blood widening under him. Four sisters had hurried him in the nunnery, where Aoife, frozen in horror, had watched Sister Aeskel trying to save his life. “He will live, Aoife.” Sister Aeskel approached her with a motherly smile “Can you please wash him?” She still had his blood under her nails, pressing uncomfortably again her skin and she tried to brush it away on her smock. No matter how hard she tried, she could not take her eyes off the man. He had red hair, messily falling to his broad shoulder, harsh skin burnt by the sun and strong features, with a wide jaw and high cheekbones; she had met men before, bishops, priests and farmers from the village, but no one as handsome as him that even now, passed out and covered in sweat, resembled an angel. She dropped on the chair next to his bed and without thinking about it, took his hand in hers. She knew then that he would be her despair. “Are the ropes tight, Aoife?” She felt weak and feverish, her fingers trembling on the knots. “Aoife!” Sister Aeskel insisted “I need your head to be clear for once.” “They’re tight, Sister.” The nun nodded, gripping nervously the iron poker and pulling it out from the fire. Its red, angry spike made Aoife’s stomach turn. The man’s wound had infected and poking it with burning iron was the only remedy Aeskel knew. “Keep his head still, Aoife.” she ordered. They had moved him on a wooden table, and he was lying unconscious, ankles and wrists tightened with thick ropes. Aoife stuck between his teeth a thick piece of leather, then, with a hand on his cheek and one on his forehead, she kept him down against the wood. “Pray for him, child” Sister Aeskel whispered and pushed the spike in the open wound. There was a moment of celestial peace, then the man squirmed in pain, an animalistic scream exploded from his throat and Aoife was crying, shouting her apologise over his shrieks and she had to push him down with the entire weigh of her body, Aeskel prayers a distant noise in her ears. It lasted not more than a minute, but at the end Aoife was exhausted. Her limbs were shaking violently but she forced herself to pat a fresh cloth on his face, cleaning the sweat and tears from his eyes and skin. His eyelids quivered under her touch and his breath was short but deep, and she smiled gratefully, thanking God for the miracle. And then, she met the palest eyes she had ever seen. The man was awake, for the first time in days, and a weak smile cracked his harsh features. “Are you an angel?” he whispered and passed out again. She entered slowly, careful not to drop the tray with ale and food, while keeping the door open with her hip. “Sir?” she called “I bring food.” He was sitting with his back against the wall, legs stretched and a book on his thighs. He has been awake for a couple of days now, healing faster that she would have expected. Aoife had brought him food since the day he had woken up and he still hadn’t addressed her, and each time she grew more annoyed with the ungrateful man and his surly attitude. He shot her the usual glance, followed by a nod and she stepped closer, putting the tray on the table. She smoothed the creases of her skirt and stood, right in front of him, with her arm crossed. She could not stand ungrateful people, even less being ignored. She felt like she deserved a word of thanks, or at least some kind of acknowledgment. And her sisters too. “Why are you here?” He looked up, an amazed grin on his thin lips “You should change your tone, nun.” She gestured her unveiled head “Clearly, I’m not a nun.” “Why are you living here, then?” “I do not own you an explanation.” “Neither do I.” “I saved your life!” He chuckled coldly “You did not. I clearly remember your pretty face right in front of my eyes, you could not be the one pushing the iron against my flesh, lady.” “But I was the one who took care of you afterwards.” “You expect me to thank you?” Aoife raised her arms exasperated and, with a last venomous look, she left the room. “I apologize, lady.” Aoife did not look up from the herbs she was grinding. She was being difficult, of course, the man’s attitude was annoying, but he had not offended her seriously, not enough to deserve her silence. But, in that world that had stripped her of most of her freedom, her voice was the only power she still owned, and she was allowed to decide who deserved her time. He had not offended her seriously, but he had still been disrespectful and she would not waste another moment being kind to him. “Lay down, lord.” she instructed, and still pushed him down before her words could reach his ears, just because she felt the urge to treat him like a child. God would forgive her, he would even laugh, she was sure of it. Despite her prideful thoughts, she could not help but admire his pale bare torso, the soft blonde hair covering his chest and the bright red line of the healed wound. He had a mark on the base of his neck and the desire to press her lips on that area shook her to her core. “Yeah, just skip this part of the story, would you?” Finan mumbled, eyes fixed on the dancing flames. Aoife blushed, both for the cold breeze and the embarrassment of her words, and nodded quickly. Somewhere, deep in her soul, she acknowledged his jealousy and the small, sinful fairy in her, who enjoyed Finan’s attention more that her Christian education would allow her to, smirked viciously. At some point while she was talking, his hand had dropped in her lap and she had held it since and with every stroke of his rough thumb on the back of her hand, she felt her heart rate speed up. “Of course, yes. Where was I?” She spread the poultice all over his irritated skin, careful not to hurt him. “It shall fasten the healing.” she explained coldly, all her attention fixed on what she was doing. Still, she could not help but look up when his hand closed around hers. The man was already watching her, with a tentative smile, and when he noticed her attention, he retracted his hand quickly and she found herself missing the warmth of his touch on her skin. “Lady, I must apologise for my previous words. I did not intended to offend you.” She scoffed, getting back up and stepping away “You did offended me, lord. You can or cannot tell me who you are, it is not in my powers nor my intentions to force you to tell us what you might desire to keep a secret. And I apologise for demanding it.” She was rushing her words, afraid that if she would stop, she would not find the courage to keep going “However, you own words of thanks and an explanation to my Sisters that had sheltered and took care of you, only with kindness, but you’ve been patronizing us and treating the people that are healing and feeding you with arrogance.” she collected her mortar and pestle “You could be the king of Northumbria, for all I know, but this is the house of God and before him we’re all the same.” she smiled coldly and with a little bow, she walked to the door. “I am no king, lady.” he raised his voice to hopefully stopping her from leaving. She turned around slightly, watching him with her eyebrows raised. “I am no king, lady. I’m just a man and you can call me Cenric. If you’ll allow me, I will tell you my story.” Under his hesitant gaze, she smiled tenderly “Thank you, Cenric. I’d be honoured.” It was a cloudy, calm spring day, but the summer was coming, she could smell it in the breeze. The lord was walking slowly, carefully leaning on a wooden stick she had grossly carved during the night. Sister Aeskel had asked Aoife to take him for a walk and she had more than gladly obey, she was craving any piece of information over the man. He was breathing heavily and Aoife asked him many times if he wanted to rest somewhere for a while, but he was as stubborn as a bull and every time she pointed out his fatigue, he sped up his pace, so she stopped asking, humouring him to prevent his wound to open again. They walked for a while in silence, and she patiently let him enjoy the clear air and peace; wherever he came from, she was sure there was no place as restful as the gardens of the Abbey. Somehow, they ended up in the stables. Cenric’s majestic black horse was the only one in the stalls and was chewing hay slowly. “Poor thing” Aoife said lowly “It must miss running.” She could feel his gaze on her skin “She sure does, she’s always being restless.” he stepped closer and the horse pushed her face against the palm of her owner. Cenric caressed her with long, slow strokes and gestured Aoife to approach them. “Put your hand under her nose, let her smell you.” The horse sniffed her deeply, tickling Aoife’s wrist with her warm breath. She couldn’t help but laugh lightly and the sound amazed the animal that shot her a wary look and then pushed her long face against the girl’s shoulder. The strong, affectionate touch took Aoife by surprise and she stepped back, losing her balance. She felt Cenric’s strong touch against the small of her back, sending shivers down her spine. Aoife held her breath, careful not to break the perfection of that experience. No man had ever touched her before, not even a brush of fingers, and the pressure of Cenric’s hand on her was secure and strong and made her head spin. It was just a moment, though, then he drifted away to run his fingers through the mare’s coat; she mimicked him and it felt like the most precious velvet under her fingertips. “What’s her name?” she asked then timidly, she hoped he would not notice the shortness of her breath and the blush on her full cheeks. She could hear him smile through his words “Godiva.” “Godiva!” Finan turned around shooting a knowing smile to the black mare that was grazing grass a few steps further. “Ye’.” Aoife smiled fondly at the creature “A valuable gift.” “He must have loved you dearly.” Finan noticed, watching her through his thick eyelashes. Aoife could not meet his eyes, fearing that she would break in tears in front of that stupid fire “Shush, let me talk.” “She must have cost a fortune.” “She was gifted to me.” Cenric answered and his amused smirked appeared under Godiva’s neck “You’re a curious little thing, aren’t you?” She smiled brightly “You promised me you would tell me your story.” He chuckled, watching her intensely “Indeed I promised. What do you want to know, lady? You can ask me freely.” “I have to ask?” He raised his eyebrows, a blank expression on his face, and with an exasperated groan she pointed at his chest “Who hurt you? And how? And why?” “So many questions…” “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” He rolled his eyes “I will, you eager woman, but I’m tired and sore. I say we rest for a while.” The sun had begun peeping out from the clouds and its warm kiss tinted Aoife’s face of a dark pink; she took of her shoes and settled her long skirt to cover her naked feet while she sat on the soft grass. She had dragged out from the stables two hay bales, for him to sit on, and was now waiting patiently for him to answer her questions. Knowing exactly, and enjoying greatly, the effect his secrecy had on her, he took his time to get comfortable and enjoy the warm sun, a rarity in his lands. When he reopened his eyes and they got used to the light, he found her already staring at him, with her pretty, fresh face on her bent knees that she was hugging tightly. He smiled again, impressed to still be able to do it; he had tortured her enough and, as hard as it was for him to open up, she had treated him much better that he deserved and, for reason he could only associate with the attractiveness of that young peculiar woman, he was eager to guide her through the lighter path of his dark past. “There’s not much to tell, lady.” “It won’t take long, then.” He was playing with the wood stick and Aoife waited patiently while he collected his thoughts. “My father gave me Godiva.” he finally said, eyes fixed on the grass. “I was seventeen at the time, ready to leave for my first battle against the Danes. He gifted me his best horse because he was certain I would die in that battle and he wanted my last friend to be that majestic horse. I would never forget the surprise on his face when I returned home, alive on Godiva’s back. I left for battle many times after that and I returned each time. I’ve been a warrior for the past seven years and I am certain I’ll be a swordman for the rest of my life.” he patted his chest lightly “And this wound is nothing more than a misunderstanding between swordmen in the ale house down in the village. Warriors are proud people, especially when ale is involved.” he raised his eyes to look at Aoife “I’m sorry if you were expecting a compelling story, lady. My life is not worthy of songs.” She knew he was lying, or at least he was not telling the entire truth, no one would be that much secretive about such normal life. Also, she was just a nun, but she knew that no tenants could afford a horse like that, and she was quite offended he would think she was fool enough to believe his simplistic explanation. Yet, she accepted what he was giving her, hoping that time would also heal his wary soul. “Thank you for talking to me.” He looked up to her, astonished “You’re a peculiar creature, lady.”

“Aoife.” “Pardon?” She shrugged timidly “You keep calling me lady, but I am not. Just call me Aoife.” He tilted his head, in a caricature of a bow “Well then, Aoife. It was a pleasure to walk with you.” “I do not trust him, Sister.” The Abbess was standing at the window of her room, watching, if not spying, young Aoife and that ungodly man. Even from distance, she could see that their hands were brushing against each other. Months had passed since his wound had completely healed, but he had asked permission to extend his stay. “I need God’s forgiveness, Mother” he had said, and the Abbess was in no position to refuse, but she knew, without the slightest doubt, that his soul’s redemption was not the reason of his stay. “I’m not blind, Aeskel, nor a fool. They think they’re outwitting us with their sneaking around during the night, but I’ve seen them.” She turned around, and looked Sister Aeskel with her sternest glance, the other nun nodded cautiously. “We’ve always known we couldn’t force her into becoming a nun; it is not the path God had planned for her.” she reached her Abbess and they watched in silence the shy lovers laugh under the sun of the hottest summer Mercia had experience in a long time. “I’m aware of that, Sister.” the Abbess then broke the silence “But she’s our responsibility and she won’t leave this Abbey with less than the most respectful and god fearing man she deserves.” Aeskel sighed sadly “I do not trust him, Mother.” she admitted “There is something under his perfect appearance that does not convince me.” “You’re freezing, my love.” Cenric’s hands run up and down Aoife’s arms, trying to warm her up; with the sweetest smile, she held his hand, stopping his frantic movement. “It is weird, isn’t it? How hot the days and cold the nights are here.” “You balance it, though.” He trapped a strand of her hair with his long fingers “Cold during the day, the warmest during the night.” In the holy house of God, their love was blossoming like the most beautiful, strongest rose in England; every step was new for Aoife and she had blindly entrusted her soul and heart to his experienced hands. She knew he had known other women, in deeper ways that she had allowed him to know her, but she preferred not to wandered too much around those thoughts, knowing way too well that she could not compare to the beauty and wit of women outside that Church. “You’re insulting yourself, Aoife.” Finan interrupted her again sternly, squeezing her hand “I’ve known my fair number of women…” “Not interested to know those stories…” “Let me finish” he scowled her and she silenced, and his harsh features softened in the tiniest smile “I’ve known my fair number of women and your beauty exceeds every man’s desire.” he tapped her temple with two fingers “And your more brilliant than any man, king, priest or warrior, I’ve ever met.” he patted her blushing cheek sweetly “There’s still work to do on your innocence, though. But we’ll get there.” he smirked smugly “Go on with your story.” “You know why I am distant in front of the nuns, Cenric. If the Abbess find out what is going on between us, she will separate us forever.” she caressed his cheek, and his stubble tickled the palm of her hand “She has the power to do so.” “Then come with me!” he exclaimed fiercely, gripping her hair tightly “We shall escape this miserable place and ride back to Wessex, where we could get married.” he embraced her hips, pulling her body against his “And birth children.” “This miserable place is my house.” she protested lightly, yet she could not hide how torn she was. “Do you love me, Aoife?” he whispered on her lips. She did, how can she not love the man, who held her with passion and promised her the freedom and family she had ever longed? And yet again, how could love be such a selfish feeling, was she in love with him or was she tricking herself into believing she did, only because he was the key to the life she had always aspired? Her response to his offer would change forever her path, and she should have reflected more than she actually did. But she was young and hastier that she would have like to admit. So she kissed him, with such force to make him stumble backwards, and whispered “I will come with you.”

“I’m in love, Sister.” Aeskel looked up from the herbarium “Are you now?” “I am.” “You’re just a child, dear.” “Girls younger than me have already birthed children!” The nun stopped what she was doing and sat on a chair “Come, child.” she patted her knees and Aoife chuckled lightly but followed her silent order and sat on them, careful not to hurt the nun. Years had passed since the last time she had been in that position, yet wrapping her arms around the nun’s shoulders felt natural and familiar. Time was leaving its mark on her face, but, behind the deep wrinkles and the patches on her skin, she still was a beautiful woman, with big doe eyes and a pretty nose. “Listen to me, baby.” the woman said, caressing Aoife’s back and hair “Cenric is a good person, but you’ve known him for less than a butterfly’s life.” Aoife’s looked up to heaven, trying not to cry. She knew she was stubborn, and it was too late for the Sister to try and change her mind, she was to leave with Cenric. And yet, her heart was breaking in a million pieces, because escaping that place also meant leaving behind the only family she had ever had. “I cannot explain my heart, Sister. I wish I knew the words to describe such a deep feeling.” She kissed the nun on her forehead “But I leave this place with a burden on my soul.” Aeskel stiffened “Are you to leave?” The girl smiled and stood up “I will forever cherish our time together, Sister.” and left. She had packed her bags too soon. Cenric had instructed her to meet him at the stables, when the moon was at its highest spot in the sky. At dinner, she had excused herself early, as the emotions swirling in her stomach would not let her eat, and at the last lights of sunset she had already packed her few belongings. Surrounded by the silence of the dark, she had watched her feet scrape the wooden floor and waited, long enough for fear to overcome excitement. Luckily, when she was about to reconsider her choice, the moon touched the top of the dome of the sky, and she left, with her light sack and heavy heart. When she reached the stables, the cold had already pierced through her mantle and into her bones and she gladly welcome the warm of the horse’ breath. “Hello my love.” she greeted Godiva, patting her on the neck, “Are you eager to leave?” The horse neighed and pushed against her hand; Aoife grew fonder of Godiva every day and the animal too seemed to prefer her attention to those of everyone else. And so she waited her lover, patting his horse and listening to her heartbeats and the noises of the animals in the night. At some point, she slipped down to the floor and, when the first lights of the day brighten the stables, she was still laying there. No sign of Cenric. “That’s it? He was just gone?” Aoife smiled sorely “Just like fog. Nobody saw him leave or had the guts to tell me that he did, but he was gone.” she chuckled bitterly “The coward took his time to go to my room and leave his weapons as a gift. How generous of him, right?” “I really don’t know how I should answer to that, Aoife.” “You shall not.” she brought her hands to the fire, grazing the flames with the tips of her fingers. “Did you love him, Aoife?” Finan asked, before realizing that he didn’t want to know the answer and the more she thought about it, the more he wanted to pretend like he had not asked anything. She noticed his discomfort and put a hand on his face; her skin was hot and welcoming, and he relaxed under her touch. “Don’t take my silence as uncertainty, Finan. It’s hard for me to interpret my feelings at times, but I’m sure about this. He was handsome and I desired him, but I know now that love is something deeper, it is longing a body as much as a soul and a heart and a mind. I craved his body and the freedom he promised me, but when I closed my eyes and pictured a family and a happy life, he wasn’t part of it.” she shrugged, unsure “Sometimes I wonder where I would be now if he hadn’t left.” “Well, we’ll never know. And I’m glad about that.” Finan smirked smugly, then the sound of footsteps made him turn around. Two companions were approaching to replace them on guard duty. Finan patted Aoife on her back “Come on. Time to sleep.” “Thank God, I’m freezing.” she stretched her limbs and got closer to her friend, to enjoy the warmth of his body until they reached the tents. She hit his hip with hers “Thank you for listening.” He wrapped her shoulders with his strong arm “I have to say, I preferred you when you were quiet, you blabber wee thing.”

“Oy!”

#finan #fanfiction #finan the agile #fanfic #fanfictions #tlk #tlk finan #The Last Kingdom #the last kingdom finan #the last kingdom fic #finan x oc #finan x reader

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itstheendofthegoddamnworld · 5 years ago

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Male Drow (Dark Elf Vevmis) x Human! Female Reader Part 4 [Slight NSFW]

This was supposed to of been posted ages ago, but here we are! - Stay safe guys! -

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 5

The Underestimated Part 4

Vevmis had been the first to awaken after a long rest, found buddled up next to you in the coldness of the barn. Still, in contrast to how the temperature had dropped within the night, he had managed to sleep shirtless, the feel of hot against cold helped him get a decent sleep.

You were still sleeping, he noted, and he didn't mind one bit you were using him as a pillow, cradled like a babe as if trying to shield yourself away from the world. Yes, oddly, he would do so for you, the human who had snuck their way into his heart.

He kissed at your hairline carefully before standing to gather his clothes. It would be now to wake you up and get a move on, but seeing the sight of you sleeping wanted him to enjoy seeing this for a little bit longer whilst he prepared.

Swift and quick as a deer, he moved with the agility that was needed when he used to be part of a group, raiding through the twilight of the countryside, on the side of the Woods Where No Men Lurk. He had it engrained in his mind like farmers controlling cattle, something he would never truly forget.

He was nimble in buttoning up his clothes and tuck them into his pants, carefully and quietly watching you whilst you slept. It was peaceful, more so better compared to life in the Underdark; everything was chaos in the darkness.

He could actually for once appreciate the beauty of silence, the charm of being allowed peace, and thoughts to himself. He had wanted the freedom ever since he could pray to Lolth; the matron Mother of all. He had waited in the shadows, waiting for his turn to finally come to experience a thing called contentment.

You stirred in your sleep groggily, trying to grab at where he had been laying, your closed eyes scrunching as if having a bad dream. The very sight of you was forcing Vevmis not to go back to join you again.

Yet, my life has been given another reason, a reason to feel content. He thought the way your hair splayed out like a halo around your head, giving you the radiant look that he didn't think he would ever see.

He had been taught to hate the creatures and races above, that the only true beauty was that of his race and female drow: of drow women with obsidian midnight skin that burnt as fierce as their tempers. With hair white as milk.

But when, he had met you, and now that he could see the likeness in this true light, he had never seen anything more beautiful.

He set to leaving you for a moment, catching you briefly before he headed out the door, carefully shutting it to keep the cold out, and heading his way to be useful.

Hot breath, heated kisses within batted beats. The thrum of beating hearts yearning for one another. You could feel him there, lying upon you and feasting over you like a starved man, naked the two of you as if had been reborn.

Begging, gasps, whimpers and moans, Vevmis laid upon the banquet as he nipped, sucked and licked at your flesh, bringing you to succumb to the wanted and growing heat growing between your legs.

You tried whispering out his name, it comes to you in a rasp, stuck in between your teeth and wanting to leave but not being able to. His spun-silver hair shone like falling silk, fraying around his head and hanging like a halo. All you could see were the darkened eyes, lustful eyes staring upon you with wanton that it made you truly believe you had lost your mind.

You bucked your hips desperately towards his, trying to get friction the closer his body and fingers moved lower down, and the rumble of a chuckle from his lips brought the chill of a winter's cold down your spine.

Long, slender fingers came to touch tenderly at your jawline, tracing as he stared down upon you.

"Be a good girl, and I'll reward you for your obedience."

You begged and gasped, wanting nothing more than to be good and get what you wanted, and the drow above you was more than pleased by your skill in staying still and obeying his words.

Like a pup learning to obey their master, you were loyal to him, and he had rewarded you when his fingers begun to crawl underneath the band of your trousers and underwear, crawling towards the heat between your legs as you waited for contact.

It never came.

You had truly opened your eyes and found yourself flustered and thankfully alone, your hair messed as you had tossed and turned in the hay, clothes unkempt as you fumbled to button them quickly.

Whether Vevmis had gone, you were glad he hadn't witnessed the rather realistic dream you had of him, and you were very sure that it was indeed real; it had been a while since you had touched yourself down there to remember how real and amazing it felt, but his touch and from previous times he had been above you, it had been melted and nestled into the depths of your mind.

Once dressed, you were smoothing your hair when the barn door swung open, a worn and tired Vevmis came running back inside, shortly shutting the door behind him when he entered.

His eyes landed and fell upon you, imagine you had been still asleep and he would've had to wake you, and you had found that you were staring back for the first time into amethyst eyes of fear.

And you had never seen Vevmis look so worried.

"Vevmis." You called to him, but he didn't reply, moving before you with such need, like a man given a task and mission; he was silently and roughly picking up his and your's scattered weapons, throwing them into bags of all sorts.

He came to you, grabbing your hands rougher than he had intended, hoisting you to your feet as he looked to your expression of confusion. "What in the name of the Seven happened?"

"We must leave. Now." His tone was clipped and abrupt as if trying to distract himself whilst he collected everything. "What? Why? What did you do?"

Vevmis looked at you, one that you had thought must've resembled a glare, but he had no time to look angry. "They're here. The ones hunting us, the rest of the drow. They've come to hunt for me, and most likely you. There was blood, human blood."

Your mind went to the siblings: were they aware of a possible attack? Were they alive? You didn't think you would ever be so worried for two strangers, but these strangers had given you a stay in their home and fed you. In your head, you had neglected from care for so long, you had almost forgotten what it had felt like to reciprocate it to another.

Vevmis had said human blood, and oh Gods, the image of two humans being innocently killed in cold blood made your blood run cold through your skin; leaving the afterbite bitter.

You were being grabbed at and dragged towards the entrance, Vevmis' words telling you something but you were now not paying attention. All you could think about now was how on earth you two were going to get out of there alive.

"The horses are in the stable through the back. They're 5 of them, roaming. We'll have to be quick, and quiet. Do you think you can do that?" He called for you, and your name, soothing your hair down as you found yourself nodding before you could understand what was happening.

"You have to say it, tell me you understand." Breathily he spoke to you.

"I understand." You swallowed numbly, taking a sword in your hand, and he took hold of the same dirk from his group, moving stealthily and quickly to open the door, you close behind him.

The ground was soft beneath your leather boots, the crunching of leaves brought your human ears to stay observant to your surroundings; quiet as a deer, prepared as you had to be in face of danger,

"Keep going, keep your eyes trained on anything." Vevmis' voice was a mere whisper in front of you, squat as he pursued in front. You looked to his slender back, the waterfall of silver locks pulled back into a ponytail; every picture of a drow you had once feared and hated, but now you had nothing but contradictory feelings for him.

The air was thick with fog and something thicker: mingled it melted in the air as your eyes lingered back to the barn you had been staying in, with a long trail of something connecting to the path around the back, where you had been introduced to the siblings; your heart dropping in knowing what could've happened to them; defenceless and unguarded in the dead of night.

The worst way to go really, in your bed asleep and the feeling of being protected. Gods, what world we live in? Your eyes looked away, the feeling of wanting to get back to your village was growing fonder in your heart, setting you to want to save them from the fate of the winter winds.

A snap came from somewhere to the far right behind you two, Vevmis quick to hear it first before you: dirk in hand he pivoted backwards startling you, whirling back and throwing the weapon in hand in what could've been with some negligence, but when it connected with something, the metal thunking and digging itself into the tissue of something, you knew it was intentionally.

"Run, now! Forget the horses! Go!" Vevmis grabbed at your hand, running with speed out of the opening as you two pushed yourself until your lungs burnt and legs ached with the need to stop. But this was your life that was on the lines.

A hooded man jumped into your view and path of freedom, arrow locked and knocked in place, pointing at the both of you as you came to a halt, more came into view.

They were all dressed in dark umber to deep purple leather, dressed in hoods with their faces obscure, with weapons of all sort on them, pointed and snarling they trapped the two of you.

"I need you to get out of here. For everything that we've seen and done, I need to know you get out more than I." Vevmis had his back towards you, glaring down the group with no intention of losing.

You, on the other hand, didn't believe he would go in risk his life for you. "You won't. Vevmis, don't do this."

"Lower your weapons, give yourselves up before things get bloody." A female voice spoke above the air, though it played with bitterness and way of hurting you, and you didn't want to risk defying her.

The dagger you held - Vevmis' dagger he let you borrow - felt loose in your grip, and as much as you wanted to keep going and defend yourself from them, five against two was still risky.

You sighed in a long exhale, the knife dropping to the ground by your feet with a clunky thud.

That was how you found yourself in a sticky situation, where an order was barked to the group, Vevmis stepping in knowing what they had said, but he was quickly hauled and pulled away from you by two, another grabbing at you and dragging you away from him, fighting to get out of their grip.

You were pulled to the floor, the mud pouring into your trousers as you stared up to the one coming closer towards you.

Before you, a woman emerged from the four of them that had grabbed at you, and you caught instantly their distinctions from most other races, their skin similar to Vevmis.

Her skin was obsidian black like the rest of them, large bloodstone eyes staring down into your very soul like a starved hound as she glared down upon you with disgust. Her long white hair was yellowed with age, braided long past her back. A curved dagger swung on the side of her hip, with a garnet ruby stone in the hilt.

From this light and angle, she could've been Vevmis' sister in the flesh reborn; ready for her revenge on you and the so-called runt of her family.

"That's the one," Her voice was a soft timbre, like melting honey pouring from the pot, but there was a deeper sinister tone to her tone that twisted her words, "the one who killed our priestess."

You felt their many eyes on you: all deep red and grisly eyes full of malice, burning into the back of your head. From the side, you could hear Vevmis struggling to get out of their grip, cursing them in their language with might that you might've considered as otherworldly.

Your name was blindly shouted over his, the thought that he could save you seemed to grow thinner and thinner with each second.

"If I must die, you promise me one thing, that these lands aren't scarred once over with your pillaging, nor will blood be spilt of the innocence."

The female drow above you smirked, bending down to your level, that same sinister look burning in her dark eyes. "I'm not going to promise you anything."

"Then it felt good knowing this. To know that bitch I killed died with fear in her eyes. It felt good killing her, to see her life leave her eyes when I sliced her throat-" There was a ferocity to the drow's punch she had thrown to you, landing you square across the face.

When you pulled back and recoiled, you could see drops fall to the heavy ground, painting the dirt red with your blood from your bleeding nose.

You could hear your name from Vevmis once more, beginning you to stop, being silenced and beaten into submission as you looked back to your captor. "Silence! I will smile happily over your rotting corpse once I'm done with you-- And you," her eyes landed back on Vevmis, "a drow who sided for this kind, the ill kind you seek with fondness. How pathetic - I will teach you the lesson myself- that whatever you shall love will die out of your grasp."

A rough hand came to the back of your neck, throwing your head into the land in the mud below, your body contorting as it crumpled to lay stiff, your arms pulled to the back of you as you were left holding.

"I will kill you if you dare even harm her!" Vevmis' voice dragged through the air behind you, but you were not able to see his facial expression. From his tone, you imagined it to be the fury that could burn this forest down.

"Truly I can see why your sister never had a warm spot for you in her heart." The drow female mocked, a boot came into the air and kicked you hard in the side of the ribs, and your voice fell high in the air as you screeched, wanting to curl up but found it merely impossible to do so.

This continued until the kicking grew so frequent that your skin and bones grew numb and dull, your skin burning as it felt flamed. The need to pass out was making you want to shut your eyes, to get away from it all, but you needed to stay awake; to know that Vevmis kept safe.

"Please," You hadn't heard Vevmis beg once since you had met him, his voice so low it sounded as if he was almost crying, begging beyond now just your survival but to see you alive through this ordeal, "I'm begging you."

Your eyes fluttered in and out of consciousness, listening so closely that you could almost hear the faint river close by; the thunderous movement of its path it took that sounded to be drawing closer and closer to you.

Everything hushed around you, those silencing as they too, listened in. It grew and grew, louder and louder its voice grew in anger, until finally -

The sound was deafening, the sound of colliding of metal against metal; a piercing roar of a wave that rose over everything, the crash that washed and swept everything away, and following the silence that came after, as your eyes fluttered shut before you could face the aftermath.

Part 5 will be the final part, so be sure to keep an eye out for that!

#Monster #monster boyfriend #monster lover #drow elf #drow #drow writing #male elf #male drow #male drow x reader #dark elf x human #dark elf #dark elf writing #dark elf fic #part 4 #monster dark elf #exophilia #exophilia drow

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nitrateglow · 5 years ago

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My god-tier Audrey Hepburn movies

I just realized I’ve technically seen all of Audrey Hepburn’s movies-- or rather, all the movies in which she was given star billing.

So, because I’m bored, here’s a list of my top ten personal favorites of her films. The criteria is simple: 1) she had to have starred in it, so nothing from her pre-Roman Holiday career counts nor does 1989′s Always, and 2) this is based on my level of enjoyment of the movie in question.

1. Wait Until Dark

Wait Until Dark possesses many merits, but Hepburn is one of its key strengths. For me, the most interesting performances are the ones able to balance seemingly opposing elements of the character in question. Here, Hepburn balances vulnerability with inner strength, insecurity and terror with courage, angry frustration with budding confidence. She makes her character seem like such a real, vital presence, like someone you would know. Also, having someone as sweet as Hepburn as the target for the cruel mind games and brutal violence of the villains makes the horror all the more terrifying.

Beyond her performance, this movie feels like it was tailor-designed to appeal to me: an intelligent and formidable villain, the everyday setting juxtaposed with a menacing atmosphere, scary scenes that don’t rely on gore, eccentric criminals, dark humor, a tight script without an ounce of fat on it. But you’ve heard me go on, so I’ll leave it there.

2. Charade

Charade is a prime example of how to mix suspense and comedy. The mystery at the heart of the movie is very clever, with twists and turns every other moment, constantly keeping the audience on their toes. Best of all, the film holds up after repeat viewings because of the delicious chemistry between Hepburn and Cary Grant, and the witty screenplay, which has such an elegant and tight structure that I seethe with envy as a writer every time I revisit this glorious thriller.

As in Wait Until Dark, Hepburn is concerned for her life as she’s terrorized by criminals, only here, they’re mostly more humorous in nature, sometimes even lovable (except Scobie, he can just jump off a cliff). She mainly gets to exercise her comedic chops, throwing off quips, sarcastic lines, and screwball banter with wonderful finesse. It makes me sad she never made more films with Cary Grant-- the two have a spark that belies the large age gap between them.

3. Roman Holiday

The character-building, naturalistic performances, and humor make Roman Holiday one of the best examples of romantic comedy. The film has both a gentle touch and a grounded maturity that make it more than just a remix of the earlier and quite similar screwball comedy It Happened One Night. To get a bit literary and pretentious, it reminds me a bit of Romeo and Juliet-- not because of the romance, but in how the movie starts as a standard screwball comedy and ends on a lyrical, wistful note you might not have expected.

Even though this was her first lead role in a feature film, I think Hepburn’s performance as Ann remains one of her strongest. Ann feels regal and dignified while also possessing the naivete and restlessness of a teenager on the brink of adulthood. It’s as fabulous a star-establishing movie as anyone could want.

4. How to Steal a Million

How to Steal a Million is pure fun. Not a moment of this caper comedy is to be taken seriously (which makes it the perfect quarantine movie if you need something to de-stress with). I always regard this movie as Charade’s even frothier spiritual successor: both films are playful, stylish, funny, and packed with romantic banter, plot twists, and colorful 1960s fashions. The main difference is that in this one, there’s no mortal threat involved and the humor gets a little more risque though not crass.

Also, how nice is it for Hepburn to be paired with a leading man closer to her age? Peter O’Toole was only three years younger than Hepburn when this was filmed. The two of them have glorious, cute chemistry.

5. The Nun’s Story

I hate the question of “objective best” anything, but if you put a gun to my head, I would say The Nun’s Story is features Hepburn’s most impressive work as an actress. For those who accuse Hepburn of being too affected, of being a mere clothes’ horse, here she is bare-faced, dressed in a nun’s habit, and playing a very reserved character whose dilemmas are largely internal. She plays her character’s spiritual conflict with an understatement that could only be considered skillful.

The film itself will likely be seen as “too slow” by most and there are a few colonial elements towards the Congo section that date it, but the film’s strengths, both from Hepburn’s performance and the mature way it presents its individual versus the system story, give it classic status. Few movies regarding organized religion are this balanced and lacking in propaganda, either for or against it.

6. Breakfast at Tiffany’s

While still Hepburn’s most iconic role, Breakfast at Tiffany’s gets called “overrated” a lot these days and fans of the original Truman Capote novella routinely dog it for making heavy changes to the source material. There’s also the, you know, gross yellowface a la Mickey Rooney that deflates every scene in which he appears. However, is the move bad? NO. It juggles zany comedy, tender romance, and rather heavy drama too well for me to consign it to the “overrated” bin. Blake Edwards was a fine director and this movie is one of his best.

And Hepburn gives a damn good performance as Holly Golightly, even if she is not the character envisioned by Capote. This character could easily be unlikable if played the wrong way-- she’s a “phony,” rather pathetic, and self-loathing despite her wit and charm. But rather than coming off as an unbearable loser, Hepburn’s Holly is a realistic, relatable loser we all love in spite of her own delusions and lashing out. She might even hit too close to home (or maybe that’s just me).

7. Funny Face

Funny Face took a few viewings to grow on me. It was one of the first Hepburn movies I ever saw (that was back in high school) and I was initially excited because it was directed by Stanley Donen who co-directed Singin’ in the Rain with Gene Kelly, a long-time favorite of mine. I expected this movie to be just as sublime and was disappointed when it didn’t hit that high mark.

Rewatching it later, I now find it very charming. It’s incredibly upbeat and relaxing, the sort of old-school movie musical that doesn’t get made anymore. Hepburn’s singing is a bit rough in the bigger numbers, but she is very sweet, a damn good dancer, and quite attractive to the point where she just takes my breath away. Fred Astaire and Kay Thompson are also wonderful and get a lot of great moments that show off their talent.

8. My Fair Lady

When considering what would go on this list, I was honestly shocked to realize how much I like this movie. I’m in the camp that considers Hepburn miscast, I find George Cukor’s direction rather stiff, and I really don’t like how the ending is changed from the original play. In spite of all this, I still really enjoy this movie for the songs, costumes, and what remains of Shaw’s brilliant satire on class and gender relations. Those three hours go by and the movie never outstays its welcome.

While I think Hepburn wasn’t the number one best choice for the part (I don’t really buy her as a crass flower girl in the beginning), she isn’t a disaster by any means. She’s still charming and sympathetic, and once she makes her transformation, you have to wonder how Higgins held it together, she’s so gorgeous. And I love the relish with which she approaches the “Just you Wait” song or the way she delivers the “move your bloomin’ arse” line at the races.

9. Sabrina

I think producers figured because of the fairy tale appeal of Roman Holiday, Hepburn would be perfect for this modern take on Cinderella, set in 1950s New York. Just like in Roman Holiday, Hepburn gets to undergo dramatic character development and show her comedic skills. It’s a cute movie, with a very charming William Holden and gorgeous black-and-white cinematography. It’s also shockingly uncynical for a Billy Wilder project.

About the closest thing this movie has to a flaw is Humphrey Bogart as Linus, the guy who Sabrina chooses in the end. This is a role Cary Grant could have played in his sleep, but Bogart clearly is not enjoying himself in some scenes. However, he isn’t movie-breakingly bad by any means. His character is meant to be a hidden softie and far more dependable than his handsomer brother, so I can buy that Sabrina would warm to him in the end.

10. They All Laughed

People tend to argue what the last “worthwhile” Hepburn movie is. Most argue it’s 1976′s Robin and Marian, while I’ve seen some go as far back as How to Steal a Million in 1966. They All Laughed, a Peter Bogdonavich comedy from 1981, gets my vote. This is a love letter to screwball comedies much like Bogdonavich’s 1972 classic What’s Up Doc, only with a far more melancholy edge.

Hepburn does not become a major presence in the movie until nearly halfway through. However, she approaches her role with a mature dignity that makes me wish she’d done more work along this line towards the end of her career. Her character comes off as an older, sadder Princess Ann from Roman Holiday. This makes the movie sound morose, but it isn’t: it ends with life going on and the characters accepting that with grace.

#lists lists lists #charade #roman holiday #how to steal a million #the nun's story #breakfast at tiffany's #funny face #my fair lady #sabrina #they all laughed #audrey hepburn #thoughts #wait until dark #old hollywood #i'll probably make more lists like these with other actors i like #so expect a buster post guys

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aurilis · 4 years ago

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hi i wanted to ask you if you could do a little fanfic like it would be if Carmen was promised to chase if you can i thank you very much🙂

Hi ! A short one is possible. As for the context, since it seems not realistic to me that Camen can be promised to anyone nowadays, I chose to do it in ancient times, more plausible. Hope you’ll like what I came up with.

Greece, ancient times.

In the streets of a city was running a little girl. Cladded in a white dress, a big smile on her face and her mid-long hair floating around her face, she was heading outside the city, to a meadow. Behind her, her nanny was running after her.

“ Please … lady Carmen … no so fast.” she breathed.

Carmen just laughed, replying that she should be faster. Carmen arrived in the meadow. She used to come here to play with her friends, some coming from another city. Here in Greece, cities were state ruled by monarchs. Carmen was the daughter of the current ruler : Dexter Sandiego.

“ Ah ! There they are !” exclaimed Carmen when spotting to silhouettes approaching.

Her nanny finally caught up with the child, just to see her running again.

“ They should stop … feeding her … on hares !” made the nanny.

Anyway, she could walk now. Carmen was greeting her friends, both coming from the neighbour city : a boy older than her, Chase, also prince and his cousin Julia. The kids began to play while the nanny met the fellow servants accompanying royalties now playing with Carmen. While keeping an eye on the children, they prepared a picnic. One hour later it was all ready to be eaten, and the servants called for the kids. They were fast to arrive, and welcomed the meal with larges smiles. They all rested a bit after that. They returned home when the sun was declining, promising to play again some other day when their lessons would let them sometime again.

Carmen went back satisfied of her day, wishing for more often moments like those. A peaceful day, a day of freedom. As a princess and future ruler, she had a lot to learn. Her days resembled like one of a minister : very busy, quite exhausting. She waited impatiently moments when she could play. Apart from that, life was peaceful, her city prospers. Carmen grew up like a mushroom.

She was still seeing her friends, their games changed as they were now teenagers : riding horses and racing, archery.

“ Hey ! You left before the signal Chase !” shouted Carmen.

She was on a beautiful dark horse.

“ Noooo you’re just too slow, surely because of those pounds you gained lately !” he teased, on his brown destrier

Carmen replied by a shocked sound, while Julia had a laugh.

“ Just you wait ! I’ll transform you into a pulp, not that it would change !”

She heeled her horse, beginning to catching up with him. But Chase didn’t say his last word and neither did his horse. They ran side by side, jesting with each other until the finish line where they spotted Julia outrunning them and winning. The losers grumbled. They let their horses resting and feeding, admiring the sky laid on the grass. Carmen breathed. She liked those moments so much. She glanced at her friends around her. Chase promised to be an attractive man later. He already was in fact … Julia would break some hearts too.

They parted at sunset too. While she was enjoying her day, Dexter was in a meeting with his counsellors. It was time to think about betrothing her. The young girl was in the process of becoming one of the most beautiful woman in Greece. Surely lots of men would want her hand. Better settle this before initiating any conflicts. So here they were, to choose a husband for her.

Carmen entered the palace in this instant. She asked her dear nanny about her father.

“ Well, he’s in the middle of a meeting right now, your highness.”

“Oh, alright I’ll see him later then.”

Carmen went to her mother she embraced. She spoke about her day of course. Helena was listening to her daughter with pleasure, around a drink.

“ Oh ?”

Carmen’s face brighten all of a sudden. She was talking about Chase, that prince from the neighbouring city. Helena stared at her daughter.

“ Well, well, well.”

Dexter arrived an instant later. He hugged Carmen, before asking how was her day. The princess joyfully answered.

“ I’m glad you have a wonderful day. Now, go to you room and change clothes for dinner will you.”

“Yes dad !”

They watched her running to her room.

“ So ? Did you find someone for her ?” asked the queen.

“ Yes.”

“ And when do you plan to discuss this with her ?”

Dexter gulped. Carmen was known to be found of freedom, not sure she’d like to learn about her betrothal.

“ We still have time for that. Starting tomorrow I’ll send an ambassador to request an audience with her promised one’s father.” announced Dexter.

Helena sighed. The sooner the better according to her, however her husband wanted to preserve their daughter’s happiness for now.

Time flowed again, while Dexter was arranging her wedding Carmen was getting closer to her friend Chase. Julia was fast to notice it and found great joy in teasing each other about that. They denied it strongly at first.

“ Come on Carmen, you should see yourself : both of you are turning ruby so deep that I’m thinking about opening a stand for barbecue, you would be the grill, and sell it to passers-by.” made Julia.

“ Me ? N-n-n-no I’m not !” protested the princess.

Julia rolled eyes.

“ You two love each other. So please confess because your clumsiness is about to get on my nerves.”

“ You really think Chase loves me ?” asked Carmen shyly.

“ No, his blushing are simply a skin disease, and his smiles a way of ventilating his mouth !”

Carmen sniggered. The princesses parted. Carmen was thoughtful on her way home. It was true that the young man was often present in her mind lately. She waited even more impatiently to see him, and was sad more then before to part with him. The princess was musing on her possible feeling when a servant announced that her father requested her. Intrigued, she obeyed and went to him. Dexter welcomed her then invited her to sit? He said he had an important new for her. Carmen was 18, more than about time to get married. She startled hearing that. WHAT.

Dexter avoided looking at her while continuing : he starter negotiations two years ago and betrothed her. Carmen shivered. She trembled, not listening anymore. Betrothed … she was getting married. To someone she probably didn’t know, and certainly didn’t chose.

“ Carmen, are you okay ?” asked Dexter, finally noticing his daughter’s state.

Carmen didn’t respond. Instead, she stood up and ran away to her room. She was feeling nauseous. She paced in her room. All she could think bout was no. No it couldn’t be. She would never accept to marry a perfect stranger, someone she didn’t even have the slightest clue about, someone else than … She stopped. She had to do something. No way she’ll let that happen. She would chose her own destiny. Carmen closed her eyes. It would hurt her parents … but she had no other choice. The princess swiftly grabbed some clothes and money she stuffed in a bag. She stopped once again, breathless. It was a princess duty to marry someone that her parents would choose. But Carmen always figured that hers would let her have a word in it. That they would talk about it with her, trust her judgement.

Instead they didn’t. She felt betrayed in that instant. So she resumed her idea. Tying bed sheets and clothes together she made a rope. She descended by her window. Finding her horse she put tissue around his hoof to lessen sound and dragged outside. Once far enough, she ride it and ran away. Ran in the night, looking behind her. She was heading to the neighbouring city’s palace. As she was running there, someone else went in the opposite direction. She saw a familiar face. The princess stopped her horse.

“ Chase ?”

“ Carmen ?”

“ What are you doing here ?” they both asked, joining.

It appeared they were both coming to see each other. They were both promised to someone, and couldn’t accept it well … because their heart already belong to the other. They blushed again.

“ Then, let’s run away from here.” said Chase.

“ Right.”

The two of them galloped until their mount got exhausted. At dawn, they embarked in a boat to leave Greece and take refuge in Crete. They comforted each other during the trip.

Thanks to the money they both had, they could buy some land and hire three servants, with a house. They lived happily together like this for a few weeks. Lived free since a long time. Chase was thinking about proposing Carmen, and was looking for a jewel on the market. He chose a ring with a ruby. He went back home, when he noticed to familiar banner on the way. He gasped. Those were his family’s one along with Carmen’s one ! They found them ! He heeled in horse to hurry. They had to run away now. Chase barged in the house while Carmen was preparing the meal.

“ Our families ! They’re here !” he exclaimed.

Carmen went awfully pale. She pointer her finger behind Chase. Too late. They were already here. Carmen grabbed Chase’s arm. No. It couldn’t end up like that, it just couldn’t ! She would never agree to be separated from him, forever. Chase tightened his jaw. Looked like fight was incoming. Well for Carmen he would fight a god. He spotted his father chamberlain, looking curiously jaded and not angry.

“ Seriously. Couldn’t you wait being married before running away ?” he said.

“ What ?” responded the lovers.

“ Your betrothal. Remember ?” he resumed looking at Carmen.

“ What ?”

The chamberlain lifted his head.

“ Your fathers decided to betrothed you both. Hadn’t you run away you’ll know it. We noticed your attachment to each other, and luckily you were good enough of a party to please the kings and queens. Well until you decided to stupidly flee. So can we now go back home and properly unite you ?”

Oh. Chase and Carmen looked at each other. Ooooooh the shaaaaame ! They leaned their head and agreed. They left their money to their servants for them continuing living. Back home, they didn’t dare to cross their parents’ look. The latter stopped worrying a bit when they learn they ran away together. The wedding was prepared, bride and groom eyes on the floor during most of it, ashamed by what they did. Their parents were amused in the end. More fear than harm, and they should be happy now.

“ My neck hurts from staring at the floor.” mumbled Chase, once they were alone.

“ Don’t mention it, I was looking for a hole to hide in or a bag to cover my face.” moaned Carmen.

“ Weird wedding ever.”

They lifted eyes. Little by little, they exchanged a smile. They were married. Back in home, reconciliated with their parents. Happy weird ending.

( not so short in the end.)

#carmen sandiego #chase devineaux #carchase #carmeneaux #fanfic

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gravelgirty · 4 years ago

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SKIN HORSE: Under Fire

So, here I am blithely enjoying the online comic SKIN HORSE for...years and loving the intricate plots, amazing characterizations, and how all the stories gorgeously tie in history, art, science, parodies, satires, and hilarious historical insanities. It’s a smart, sharp, witty comic.

But I wasn’t aware of the comments the creators Jeff and Shaennon have been subjected to for all these years.

Little drops in the ocean, these nasty little comments, ‘suggestions’ and commentaries about the ‘grade school’ artwork have added up. And I’ve done my part to let that happen because I haven’t read the comments, heck, I barely comment on them and that’s...not nice of me. I’ve gotten a lot of joy out of SKIN HORSE and I have pretty much given back absolutely nothing.

So when Shaenon posted yesterday, we thought it was a misplaced April Fool’s joke. Oh, if only.

Shaenon: Hey there. Since all the comments on today’s strip were people complaining about how boring and badly-drawn Skin Horse is, I’ve decided to stop drawing it. There’s no point in continuing a project nobody likes. Sorry for wasting your time.

The micro-aggressive attacks Sharon and Jeff have faced aren’t really micro-aggressions. Bullying is still bullying, and I have no doubt there’s slimy jealousy involved too. SKIN HORSE’s artwork is simplistic for a very good reason: It is the chosen language of the creators. Honestly, if it was realistic, the whole thing would have been bogged down in uber-seriousness. The light, free lines remind us that this strip is ultimately satirical, and you shouldn’t demand hyperperfection in the 2D representation. Prejudice like ‘go real or go home’ is BAD. It’s one of the reasons why I gave up reading HEAVY METAL. Plot, art, and storyboarding need an equilateral balance of each other to WORK. It is hard. I’ve eased off my internet addictions on other webcomics that don’t seem to think another’s work is as hard as theirs...or as good.

FYI when this began in 2007, a military officer war veteran was definitely considered gender inappropriate for cross-dressing. Tip overcame it by being a lot tougher than people realized, and never stopped expressing himself with clothes. There are so many other reasons to love this, but the first comic opened with a bang, letting people decide from Day One if they would want to read it.

So I’m reminding myself with this. supporting content creators takes on many forms. If you can’t pledge a dollar a month, you can at least post a supportive comment that recognizes time and effort--not to mention the California Gold Rush-grade gamble we all make when we put content for free out there in the world.

Shaennon has an online store HERE.

Jeff has a blog HERE.

And of course there’s SKIN HORSE HERE.

Allow me to close with the first and most important thing SKIN HORSE posted.

#Skin-Horse

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tfrohock · 4 years ago

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Writing historical fiction

All writers, to some extent, do research for their novels—I want to get that out of the way from the beginning. Third world fantasy? You’re going to do some research, especially if you don’t have a great deal of experience with horses or weaponry. The fact-finding mission might be fun and relaxing, but it still counts as research, so I don’t want to imply that only historical/alternate fantasy authors are the only ones who do research for their books.

Regency romance? Research.

Third world medieval fantasy? Research.

Science fiction? Research.

The difference between these subgenres and historical fiction is the amount of necessary research needed for a specific project, which also depends on how familiar the author is with the time period. The other problem is making sure the historical details are in line with the period. So what I have for you is a quick and dirty list of tricks that will help you get to the information you need.

Understand your time period

How familiar are you with the time period you want to represent in your fiction? I’ve been studying various aspects of World War II for roughly forty years and the Spanish Civil War for merely eight. I’m an independent scholar so my knowledge isn’t as detailed as someone studied in this field, but I’ve got an excellent grasp of the societal and political ramifications of both wars with a rudimentary knowledge of World War I.

What this means is that I instinctively know which books to go to for the information I need. For the purposes of this post, I want to talk to people who are at the beginning of their research, meaning it’s not their field, but they want to know more.

Beginning points

Generally speaking, historians are focused on the big picture—names, dates, major battles, and the societal issues of the day. While all these factors are necessary and important, historical fiction authors are more interested in the nitty-gritty details of everyday life in order to give our readers a realistic setting.

Where to begin?

First, I’ll point you to the bloody obvious: a library. Talk to the reference librarian and tell them your research needs. You will a) make their day, because trust me when I say that reference librarians live for this, and b) you’ll save yourself a lot of time. Call your local academic or community college library and see if they are open to the public. If they are, remember the reference librarians’ primary responsibility is to their students, faculty, and staff, but depending on the library, you’ll find a marvelous amount of resources.

Look for books on “daily life” (daily life is in quotes, because that is usually part of the title) of different periods, which are like historical snapshots into what people ate and drank, and how they went about their daily lives. These are usually written on a young adult reading level, so most people can breeze through them quickly.

Osprey Publishing also carries a lot of books on specific battles, time periods, and clothing/uniforms. These are all great starting points with bibliographies should you feel the need to continue your research for a deeper understanding of the time period. I know The Ebro 1938: Death Knell of the Republic was invaluable to me with graphs and lists of major generals. These books are a huge timesaver, because of the way the information is quantified.

Indexes and bibliographies are your friends

When you can’t find a book on a specific time period, you need to think outside the box. What are you looking for? Clothing? Find information on the history of textiles. You might not have the time or desire to read the entire book, but this is why indexes were created. Go to the index and see if your subject is listed there. You’re not looking for random references of a page here or there; you’re looking for blocks of text. Check the footnotes and the sources the author used. Research is like a trail, once you pick up the right source, you can run with it to other sources.

JSTOR for the world

JSTOR is a digital library of academic articles on a wide range of topics. When most people think of JSTOR, they think of costly academic libraries, and they’re wrong. JSTOR has moved with the times and has several tiers that enable you to read many articles online for free, and others that you can download for a nominal fee. Also, see if you can get access to JSTOR through your state library, because North Carolina residents have free access to JSTOR through the State Library.

Youtube

Many of you already know this, but just in case you don’t: Youtube can be a valuable resource for learning how to do something. There are a ton of videos on how to put on chainmail, women’s and men’s clothing from various time periods, and even how to fence.

Academic textbooks

Academic textbooks have a way of narrowing the focus to just the essentials. These can be costly, but you can also find them used. Keep in mind that with historical sources, you don’t have to purchase the most recent edition but can go back as much as two editions to find a reasonably priced copy and still have relevant information.

Ask for help

Because my Los Nefilim novels were based in Barcelona and Paris, two places I’ve never been, I asked for help from residents of those areas. Josep Oriol and Ollivier Robert pointed me to resources I never would have found on my own in both Spanish/Catalan and French respectively. Josep gave me links to short historical films from the twenties and thirties, which gave me a very clear eye into the clothing and transportation in early twentieth century Barcelona while Ollivier sent me links to Parisian subway maps from both before and during the war, which helped me plot Rafael’s journey in the subway in Carved from Stone and Dream and also showed me the closed station used in A Song with Teeth.

Search only educational resources

The Internet has changed dramatically over the years and searches are now focused almost entirely as a giant advertisement. Know how to narrow your searches to academic resources. Let’s say you’re looking for information about medieval Spain.

For example: a search for medieval Spain will bring one set of hits from all over the web, but if you narrow your search to medieval Spain .edu you’ll get a list of academic resources about medieval Spain. Use Iberia history .edu and you’ll get another set of academic resources. The key is the .edu at the end of your search term, which restricts your search to academic resources.

Documentaries and historically accurate films

Documentaries are exceptionally helpful, but so is fiction. Criterion Films had several movies from the early twentieth century that helped me see the clothing, hairstyles, transportation, and dining options available to people during the 1930s and ‘40s. They were also entertaining to watch. So if you’re lucky enough to find a historically accurate film, that counts as research, too.

The devil is in the details

You don’t want the details to overwhelm your story, but you do want to put in enough information to lend credibility to your time period. Remember, if it doesn’t feel real to you, it won’t feel real to your readers. A little research often goes a long way in adding a sense of time and place to your story.

Happy researching and good luck!

#historical fiction #historical fantasy #research #writing tips

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muffintonic · 4 years ago

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Alright, I think i’m done BOTW 2 spamming for today. Anywho, time for some thoughts in general!

1) I hated how the shrines in BOTW were so cold and dark compared to the bright and lively nature outside (I wish they had all looked like the Master Trials challenge where there were trees and stuff incorporated inside), so I hope if we’re forced to have dungeons they’ll be more like the Wind Waker ones. 2) I hope they don’t make us use the grappling hook or anything like in Wind Waker to move around the sky islands (I hated that mechanic). 3) I’m probably one of the few people who wanted less Zelda and more of the Champions in HWAOC since i’m only really attached to BOTW (and we saw a fair amount of Tetra in Wind Waker)/apparently Zelda’s been sidelined in all the other games, so i’m hoping in vain that we get more Champions material in BOTW 2. Also, Link could stand to have some more cutscenes centered around him as well (the few we got in some of the sidequests in BOTW were great). 4) I only really somewhat care about Riju and Sidon, so I won’t mind if the new gang gets sidelined in BOTW 2 (I still think Nintendo wasted the found family/band of brothers aspect on the dead characters--I love them so much and they’re all I want!! The problem is, they’re dead and I don’t really care all that much about their replacements!!! I dunno, maybe i’m hampered by the fact that I can replay the original champions’ memories whenever I want/read their diaries, but I can’t rewatch the new gang’s cutscenes AKA i’ve forgotten their characterization since they don’t talk to me much now that the game’s over). It’d be great if they have some weaving storylines in BOTW 2 that will get me more invested in them, but currently i’m not that interested. 5) Speaking of which, I know it’s 100% not going to happen, but goddang if I don’t want the Champions to have been returned to life. Nintendo totally squandered HWAOC by not making it a true prequel/canon to BOTW (the Champions Ballad confirmed that the Divine Beasts had trials in order to be synced to the champs, so the new gen use of them wouldn’t have happened without that + Mipha thought Link had changed in BOTW yet says in HWAOC that he hasn’t changed + some scenes like “Champion Revali’s Song” never happened at all/got replaced with alternative scenes that really changed some dynamics + basically all of Revali’s time-relative characterization from his diary/pre-100 years of solitude got thrown out + I feel like Daruk got totally sidelined), so i’m still craving that Champions content. Also, I feel like it’s totally unfair that Zelda came out of 100 years totally unaged while everyone else died. Life seems to really suck for people in the LoZ universe who aren’t chosen by divine powers. 6) They’d better keep it open world and non-linear. I can’t go back to being forced to backtrack/trudge through things, I just can’t. BOTW was everything i’ve ever dreamed about in a game (truly open world + non-linear + interactive + meaningful story + lots of outfits + beautiful landscapes) with Skyrim previously being the only thing that came close to what I wanted, so I really hope BOTW 2 doesn’t deviate too much from that. 7) I really liked Kass in BOTW, but i’m not sure what direction they’d go with him in BOTW 2/i’d be fine if he sat BOTW 2 out. I worked so hard to complete all his quests in BOTW so he’d go back home to his family, GODDANGIT, KASS. 8) Someone mentioned that since the first trailer had underground aspects, we’re probably going to be playing as Zelda with the Slate there, and I agree. They didn’t make a playable model for her in HWAOC for nothing. 9) I want to be able to stable the deer and bears and stuff, but I know that won’t happen. Being able to ride the moose and rhino things from the Hebra area probably won’t happen either, but I want to ride them!!! 10) I hope there’ll be at least a few new buildings and stuff in the towns/they’ve started construction on some areas in Central Hyrule, but I guess that’ll depend on how long it’s been in-universe since BOTW. Or maybe not, considering how there’s still Karson and Hudson even though Bolson retired from Bolson Construction--insta-towns like Tarrey Town could totally be feasible if they wanted! 11) I have one foot in the camp that believes there’ll be time shenanigans in BOTW 2. HWAOC totally threw me off with it being an alternate timeline, so i’m not sure whether we’re going to be experiencing that again or time travel itself, but I definitely won’t be surprised this time around if Nintendo goes that route again (and it would be super interesting to see the Link from 10,000 years ago). I’m not entirely convinced that the Link we see exploring the sky in the second trailer isn’t our Link, mainly because he seems to still have on the blue boxers from BOTW. 12) I also heard that maybe this will be the last LoZ game ever since something something Demise something Skyward Sword something something lore from games i’ve only vaguely looked into (i’ve only ever played BOTW --> Wind Waker --> HWAOC)??? If so, it kind of sucks that I came in just when they started making games with playstyles palatable to me (I had to look up every single thing when playing Wind Waker, but BOTW let me solve things according to MY logic/I missed being able to explore in HWAOC), but at least it’ll end on a super high note/I won’t experience later disappointment, I guess. If BOTW 2 involves breaking the reincarnation cycle for the Triforcers, I would be really surprised. (On a related note, Nintendo making Ganondorf good would also be a 100% shock to me, but it would be great to end on that as a subversion. Yes, I want them to bring back the semi-complicated Ganondorf from Wind Waker.) 13) I hope they don’t rush releasing it. I heard they pushed back BOTW originally (I got it in 2019), but it came out fantastic for it! I know COVID’s been affecting things, so I really hope they’re treating their staff right and are mindful of crunch. 14) I want even more outfits (there seem to be at least two new ones, if the variant of the Hylian Tunic crossed with Link’s Champion’s Tunic counts). Give me all the outfits!!! Also, I hope we get even more hair variations in addition to the hair down option (which is all i’ve ever wanted since I saw the mod that altered the Ancient Helmet). 15) I wonder if we’re going to get a bonus for having both BOTW and HWAOC save data. 16) I wonder if we’re going to be keeping the Champions’ skills. I’m going to miss being super overpowered, if not. 17) I hope Nintendo doesn’t cave in and make surfaces climbable in the rain. Having that limiter is more realistic and Link would otherwise be too overpowered with a super climbing ability. 18) I liked BOTW’s scattered music that got more noticeable in populated areas because it was fitting for the post-apocalyptical/nature aspect. Hearing your footsteps in an open field and the buzzing of insects was super nice and prevented me from getting music fatigue (which i’d probably experience since whenever I play BOTW it’s for 5-10 hours at a time). I hope Nintendo either keeps that or makes audio options. 19) I heard that BOTW 2 is going to be super dark or something, and i’m okay with dark, but not GRIMdark, so I hope it doesn’t go that far. From what we’ve seen in the second trailer it still looks beautiful, but I hope it doesn’t do that thing that some games do where after the midpoint/a certain story point all the scenery permanently changes to be dark and scary (that’ll seriously hamper post-game playability for me if so). 20) If they expand on the Zonai, that would be super cool! Doubly cool if the time travel shenanigans involve them/ancient Link being one! 21) I kind of want windstorms to be a weather feature. We had lightning, heat, and cold, but no wind! No, I don’t count the wind geysers and the occasional breeze in Tabantha. 22) I want a chest in my house to hold more weapons than just the gear mounts. BOTW only had enough mounts for the champions’ gear, but it also had rare items like the Kite Shield and Forest Dweller’s Sword that you can’t get anymore once you use them up! 23) I want to be able to stable my horses at my house. What’s the point of that little area if you can’t stable your horse there! 24) Speaking of Link’s house: where is Zelda going to live? If the castle’s not reconstructed, it’d be neat if Link adds an extension to his house for her. 25) I hope they open up part-time jobs (think Mabinogi) as an option to earn rupees. Having to hunt for Luminous Stone deposits or feed Trott to make money can be such a chore. I think some of BOTW’s minigames/sidequests might count as those, but those minigames were either frustrating if your goal is to earn money (since most of them cost money to play in the first place and the mechanics weren’t always easy), or didn’t earn that much in general. 26) I wonder if Kilton is going to have updated items since the monsters seem to have changed. 27) I want to be able to dive underwater (mainly so I can explore the beautiful reefs over at Lurelin). A dive meter like the one from Super Mario Sunshine would be cool. Also, it’d doubly be neat if you had a separate stamina wheel for swimming and could permanently upgrade your swim/diving stamina (the speed+ swimming items just consumed your stamina faster, which was a pain)! 28) It’s definitely too late for this, but it’s a shame that the Hylians have so many face/body/hair and outfit variations, but the Zora, Rito, and Gorons don’t. The Gerudo were kind of okay with the hair and body variations, but the other races seemed to have a serious copy-paste problem. I guess technically some of the more important NPCs (ones with quests/cutscene triggers) had different coloring, but they were severely lacking in clothing variation. Also, the only old Rito was the elder??? At least the Gorons and Zora had some old folks besides their leader walking around. Very weird, but I don’t think BOTW 2 can fix any of this. 29) I wonder how they’re going to do the final boss battle, considering how epic/cinematic the BOTW 2x battle was. What can top fighting (on horseback, no less) a giant, flaming boar made out of malice? 30) I wonder what the Yiga are going to be up to, considering how Ganondorf seems to be somewhat kicking in BOTW 2.

#in other words: BOTW 2 HYPE REAL #i'm still going to queue things so there'll probably another BOTW 2 glut from me in a few days bwaha #(and probably some general BOTW stuff because MAN am i hyped)#i'm so glad i got into BOTW in 2019 because there's been content for me every year since and i am Living #botw 2

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