#of course its * which other saint than the one tied up

[rinniereads123]

One-Shots

SOME OF THESE STORIES ARE MATURE! READ THE WARNINGS AND TAGS BEFORE YOU READ!

Last updated 01/06/2025

★ - personal favorites | masterlist | other recs

scary? my god, you're divine - @sinner-as-saint

Your marriage to Bucky Barnes was crucial in stopping the rivalry that had been getting rather violent recently between the two families. You agreed to it. But there was one little problem. Although people knew of Bucky as being a ruthless, fiercely loyal, and feared hitman, no one had ever seen his face. In the rare occasions when he’d been seen out during assignments, it was rumoured that he always wore some sort of mask which covered most of his face. So you ended up marrying a man, and had no idea what he looked like. But surely that wouldn’t be an issue. It’s not like his one touch would get you addicted. Who cared what he looked like? It’s not like you could grow to love someone like him anyway… right?

yours to hurt, yours to love - @purple-babygirl

They had a deal. She would surrender her control; he would take it. Love had no place in such a relationship, did it?

Come Find Me - @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky

You get left behind on a mission, and Bucky goes to save you.

★blurred lines - @ellemj

When choosing a female agent to send back in time to gain young Sergeant Barnes's trust, everyone's in agreement that it should be Sharon. Until Bucky, the man that you barely get along with, speaks up and lets everyone know that it could only be you.

Shared desires - @veltana

You and Bucky decide to explore something new with Steve.

The Push and the Pull - @delaber

There’s nothing Bucky wants more than to be with you - and for that reason alone, he has to break both your hearts.

Little Bookworm - @heytheredelulu

Your boyfriend can’t think of anything more adorable than watching you read. One night while you’re in the shower he picks up the book you left on the nightstand: “Haunting Adeline by H.D. Carlton” and thumbs through it, very quickly realizing just what kind of books his sweet little bookworm is really into.

Anywhere Away With You - @thevillainswhore

Old ghosts from your past threaten to disturb the peace you’ve made with your new life. Will temptation steer you away?

★The Ties That Bind Us - @thevillainswhore

Even though Bucky is your ex-husband, you still have to see him often because of your shared son. But the heated tension, the spark that is still very much alive after your divorce, finally reaches its peak when you come home from your date.

Warrior/Worrier - @delaber

After a mission gone awry, Bucky finds himself on your doorstep in the middle of the night.

Pink in the Night - @d0wnb4df0rf1cm3n

Some interesting rumours have been circling around about Bucky. Little do you know, it's kinda your fault.

Love Hurts - @urdepressedslut

You and Bucky get into a heated argument, things are said and done and now he won’t speak to you. You don’t think you can handle him ignoring your existence.

in losing grip, on sinking ships (you showed up just in time) - @mellowsaturns

When the Avengers pick up unusual activity, they realize that not all of Hydra was destroyed. One unidentifiable face sends the team into a frenzy but Bucky knows it. He could recognize those eyes anywhere.

I Hate You - @ellemj

After ending up on SHIELD's radar, you're moved into the tower against your will. Of course, you can't stand the one man that you have the most in common with.

One More Night - @marvelouslizzie

You and Bucky Barnes are fuck buddies for a while. The problem is you have feelings for him but you don't think he reciprocates and it just makes it impossible to continue your relationship. Little did you know how much he wants you and how hard he's trying to keep it casual.

The Things We Carry With Us - @pellucid-constellations

You were injured on a mission and didn’t tell anyone, leaving your already rocky relationship with Bucky crumbling. Was it really hate he harbored for you, or was it something else? 

Control - @bucky-bucket-barnes

John Walker makes the dire mistake of messing with Bucky’s girl. This misstep causes a major fight to break out between the two, ending in nothing but blood and rage.

I Can Save You This Time - @pellucid-constellations

It’s the 4th of July and you’ve never been more sick. Turns out you aren’t the only one in the compound that stayed home from the celebration.

Shaken Up - @jamesbuchananxsteviegrant

Steve and Bucky find their girl passed out.

Under Pressure - @banditthewriter

Y/N hides a nasty injury from the team until they know everybody is safe, and then they collapse. Bucky worries about Y/N.

Injuries - @flowinglocksofbuck

you get injured on a mission and Bucky freaks out

Wicked - @str-spangled-banner

You were injured during a mission two weeks ago and put to much pressure on your healing wounds, doing more damage than you thought possible. Bucky fears he will lose you.

Necessary Evil - @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky

Y/N gets seriously injured and Bucky takes care of her.

fingers fantasy fulfilled - @purple-babygirl

If Bucky's doll wanted his metal fingers then that was exactly what she was going to get.

Lavender - @wkemeup

Not every nightmare is the same and Bucky doesn’t always wake up as the man you know. 

Give Me A Sign - @lostgirlmuseum

Bucky asks the universe for a reason to live. The universe delivers you.

Fulfilled Fantasy - @sergeantbarnessdoll

Y/N admits to Bucky that she wants to have a threesome so he has Natasha help fulfill her fantasy.

Hottest Night of Your Life - @bossbtch1

Bucky and Steve joined you for a night out at the club, but things took a dark turn when a stranger spiked your drink. Bucky and Steve were more than willing to "take care" of you.

Sharing is Caring - @sad-not-glad

Soft Dom! Steve x Sub! Bucky x Dom! reader

My Queen - @adrinktostopyourthirst

The post-battle energy rush needs a release. Suddenly, there's a willing soldier at your disposal.

all the apple cider and no more haunted houses - @witchywithwhiskey

you and bucky barnes have a love-hate relationship—you love him and you believe he hates you—but when your friends insist on going to the scariest haunted house attraction in the area, the experience ends up forcing your real feelings for each other out into light

my everything - @mrsbarnesblog

The last thing that Bucky ever expected to see was the love of his life from the past trapped in one of the Hydra bunkers in the cryofreeze chamber. Yet here he was almost two days later, staring at your still unconscious body through the window at the medical wing, imagining the horror and disgust on your face when you found out that he was no longer the innocent and happy boy you knew before.

you were mine just yesterday - @notafunkiller

It's been a while since your break up with Bucky happened, but you're still not over him. You try to move on, go out, and have fun with your friend, Steve, but you end up in the same bar you two went to often. It also just happens that Bucky is there too, with Natasha by his side. It doesn't take long for you two to end up getting into old habits.

[youling-the-ghost]

I just got caught up on the bnha manga and boy do I have some thoughts about the future of the series. OBVIOUS SPOILER WARNING IS OBVIOUS

I don't know how to feel about the fact that bnha could be ending soon. On one hand, I'm glad that the final war arc is finally reaching its conclusion, but on the other hand, there are so many loose ends that I'm worried will never be tied up. I'm mostly worried about the future of class 1-A because every scenario that I thought of had something wrong with it:

Class 1-A continues studying at UA as if nothing had happened. This doesn't quite sit well with me because let's be real here, all of class 1-A were all more heroic than most of the Pro Heroes. Having them continue studying at UA would feel almost disingenuous to the entire final war arc. Despite this, I still feel like this is the best option for class 1-A. After everything that has happened, a sense of normalcy would probably be appreciated. Plus I'd love to see Shinsou as part of the hero course in their second year.

Class 1-A graduates from UA by default and all become Pro Heroes. I don't like this scenario for more personal reasons. The main reason why I love bnha so much is its academia aspects; I loved seeing the characters grow like actual students in a genuine school setting. Having the students graduate would be taking the main charm of the show away, at least in my opinion. Although I will say that it would be incredibly exciting to see the students that we've been following for the past 400 chapters become Pro Heroes, so I'm not entirely against this option either.

The hero society crumbles and heroes cease to exist, thereby disbanding UA and class 1-A. Honestly I'm only including this because it's a popular fan-theory, although I don't agree with it at all. It feels like a slap in the face to every student who faught in the war. It would genuinely be such a big disservice to have all of them who risked their lives fighting in the war, only for their dreams to be ripped from them. Another issue is that in my opinion, the heroes themselves isn't even the biggest flaw within the hero society. I feel like the biggest flaw with the whole system is how the general public views heroes. They see Pro Heroes as saints and pillars who can shoulder all of society's burdens and blames. Removing the job of Pro Heroes would just feel like putting a band-aid on an amputated limb, as the core issue of bnha's society shifting its blame onto others wouldn't be resolved. It would also just be scummy to title your series "My Hero Academia" only to remove the concept of heroes by the end of it. I'm not bashing Horikoshi's writing or even fans who support this theory, I just personally think that it's not a very plausible ending for bnha.

Again, I feel like option 1, where class 1-A continue to school as normal (followed by a time-skip when they become Pro Heroes) would be the best and most plausible option. However, I don't think it would be right for things to completely return to normal either.

I really hope that Horikoshi adds an arc after the current one that explores the aftermath of everything, including the public reaction to how hard the heroes faught against the villains and their unwavering spirit, which could also serve as a proper end to the overarching story of the broken hero society.

This is more of a tangent than anything else, but I CAN'T BELIEVE SHIGARAKI JUST DIED LIKE THAT??? I guess it makes me overly optimistic, but I genuinely thought at one point that Midoriya could save Tenko from All For One because it would be an incredibly fitting end for him. Tenko's main motivation behind becoming Shigaraki was the fact that not one person helped him when he was wandering the streets as a traumatised kid, and a common narrative that all of the League of Villains shared was how their fates could have been different had someone reached out a helping hand when they needed it most. Having Midoriya save Tenko from All For One would be such a satisfying ending, not only for the overarching story of the villains, but for those who wish that the villains could be redeemed. It would be such a perfect ending AND IT WAS TAKEN AWAY JUST LIKE THAT?? I don't buy it tbh maybe I'm just delusional but I have a feeling that the whole ordeal with Shigaraki isn't finished yet.

Lastly, IS MIDORIYA QUIRKLESS AGAIN?? Since Shigaraki had One For All when he died, that would mean that the quirk is also gone, right? So would that mean that he would no longer be able to become a hero? I could see this going one of two ways:

Shigaraki's not actually dead or One For All didn't disappear when he died, meaning that Midoriya can continue using it.

One For All really is gone and Midoriya is quirkless again, but he continues striving towards his goal of being a hero despite not having a quirk.

I think both options have potential and I wouldn't be opposed if either option becomes canon. Although, if Shigaraki gets revived for some bullshit reason, I might just riot. I know I literally just said that I'm not against Shigaraki not actually being dead, but that would require a plausible explanation for why he's dead but not actually dead. I think the most plausible explanation right now would be if somehow Shigaraki's quirk mutates and the "restore" part of it returns, which could "restore" his body again. But even that is a little...eh to me. Either way, I'm excited for what's in store.

You thought I was done, well SIKE! Let's talk about Midoriya's dad! Horikoshi has confirmed in 2018 that his identity will be revealed at some point, but it's nearing the end of the final war arc and still not one hint has dropped about Hisashi Midoriya. I feel like this could end up being another "Aoyama is the traitor" situation, where we think that Horikoshi has forgotten about this plot line, only for him to come back to it in full force that makes total sense in retrospect.

The most popular theory right now is that Hisashi Midoriya is actually All For One, and I actually kind of agree with it. I don't think that this is 100% going to be what Horikoshi goes with, but I think it's a pretty interesting idea that also has decent plausibility. Apart from the evidence that other fans have accumulated, there's also a lot of merit in the storytelling that could stem from this reveal:

It has already been established that the public is willing to turn their backs on heroes, no matter how much they sacrifice to ensure the safety of the civillians, if they believe that the hero is "immoral" in some way. The reveal that All For One is Midoriya's dad would be like the "Dabi is Touya" reveal except 10 times worse because this isn't just some villain, it's literally All For One. The public would not take it well, and that could be a great segue to directly addressing all of the issues about the hero society that Horikoshi has been building up.

This also completes the foil contrast between Midoriya and Shigaraki; two kids who were victims of the broken hero society, one born from a villain and one born from a hero, who become the opposite as they're taken under the wing of the greatest hero and the greatest villain. There's just something so poetic about that that I love.

Let's say that Tenko Shimura does get saved by Midoriya, imagine how he'd feel when he finds out that the person who saved him is directly related to the person who caused all of his pain and grief. It would probably break him, and this could lead to such an interesting arc of Tenko re-adjusting to a normal civilian life, dealing with the backlash that's bound to happen, and learning how to trust Midoriya again. It's such a compelling idea that I'm itching to write a fic about it.

But apart from that, there's also the fact that there aren't many other ways that would make the reveal interesting enough to justify it being such a long mystery. Think about it, there's probably a good reason that Horikoshi kept Midoriya's dad a secret for so long, and it would be lame as hell if he just turned out to be some guy. Having All For One be Midoriya's dad seems like one of the few ways for the reveal to be compelling. I could also see Midoriya being related to the Todorokis in some way, but then it would just feel like the "Dabi is Touya" reveal with extra steps.

And with that, I'm finally done with this ridiculously long post. Again, depsite my grievances, I'm super hyped to see what's to come with the series, and I'm genuinely so excited for chapter 424 to come out.

[lateseptemberdawn]

would bts be bts if even a single one of them was missing? the answer is no, and here is why.

saw a comment just now on lost mv about rm being the secret behind bts's success and that just sent me to the previous similar claims about taehyung and jungkook and that just led me to think that bts really would not be what it is if it weren't for all seven of them. like. each and every one of them brings something so crucial and fundamental that it becomes impossible to imagine bts to be what they are now without even a single one of them. and since i like to dig through personalities and characteristics, im going to thrive making this post so lets get into it:

Namjoon: Obviously the leader and a damn good one at that. he is the brains of the group. the fact that he knows english is itself a great reason for their establishment in the west but of course its much more than that. his writing and composing skills are no joke, first of all. his mature perspective on life and people helped a great deal in sort of identifying exactly what take to have on any circumstance. he knows emotions, is damn good at identifying them in himself as well as others, which becomes helpful in pinpointing what their fans want and expect. i wouldn't say he's a saint, i wouldn't say any of them are, and i suppose it'd be hard to be Good and Humbled after the heights they've touched but, he's very good at projecting himself and his team as well. his leadership skills are so refined you can tell its inherent because the way he takes stands and also makes sure all the members are represented is honestly a treat to watch. i wouldn't call him the backbone of the group because that's the next member we will be talking about.

Seokjin: He is the backbone. recent weverse interview offered a damn good insight to his mentality and i have to say, it's beyond whimsical or naïve. in today's day and age, and even before, especially for a korean man, to have that much confidence and self-assuredness that manages to not be toxic or overly forced onto the others is a fresh wave of breeze in a world where men are desperate to be noticed for the smallest of things. his maturity differs greatly from namjoon, as i think their foundations of their life philosophies are separate from each other. while namjoon is more of a worldly-wise guy, seokjin is more into the self aspect of life, and both of them combined are a very healthy ideologies to grow up around. seokjin may have had moments of suffering and self-doubt, that is not what i'm insinuating, but the fact that he's grown past those phases in such a beautiful way is inspiring, not only to the fans, but especially to the younger group members. he is insanely good at handling the member's separate personalities, even better than namjoon who i think is more tied around the professional aspect of their personalities. this is not to say that he doesn't know them personally very well, of course he does, but it means that he probably doesn't know best how to interact with them on a more personal, nuanced level, which i think we will all agree, seokjin is a genius at. ("what if he flings it?" "then he flings it.")

Yoongi: Yoongi, of course, the musical genius, he brings in passion to the group. I will admit i dont really know all that much about the fundamentals of music, but i know enough to know that Yoongi is definitely a genius of the field. while i think that namjoon is more of a lyrical genius, yoongi sure knows his way around words as well. but his strength is definitely in composing. and he's insanely talented at that. his early passion in rapping and his emotional connect to it fueled his rage and his need to be successful at it, and i feel contrary to what it seems like, he is the type to not let go of his dreams no matter what. i feel he is someone who picks his battles for the long haul and never ever thinks of quitting, no matter how hard it gets. that tenacity i think he shares with every single member on some level but in different ways. i think namjoon is more practical and reasonable in his pursuits, and jin is more self-studying, but yoongi seems like someone who, if has decided for himself that it is something he needs to do, will simply jump into it headfirst, and no matter what else he might need to do, he won't hesitate in doing that, will simply try until he gets it. being such a musical genius, he knows the musical strengths of his group mates. he identifies and values each aspect of bts, theirs strengths and weaknesses, and knows how to work through them. he not only recognises their specialties, but also encourages them greatly, resulting in the betterment and strengthening on bts as a muscial group.

Hoseok: Hoseok is the perfectionist. a very strict one at that. he does not play when it comes to professionalism, especially his field of it, and that's helped the group in strengthening this other aspect of idol life. of course, dance is one of the main things that makes any kpop act famous. and hoseok is definitely a huge part of the reason why bts is known for its choreographies. hoseok is serious when it comes to dance and synchronization and being absolutely perfect on the stage and in front of the camera. its not that he does not tolerate mistakes, but that he has that leadership quality of knowing who to push, when to push and just how hard to push them. but hoseok comes with dual benefits, because he is of course the sunshine of the group. hoseok is perhaps the best at compartmentalising, at distinguishing his personal life from his professional one, because he snaps the moment he recognises the need to slip off his professionalism. he is an incredible person to be around. that is evident in his compact relationships with the members. he shares a special friendship with each and every one of them, they all trust him to share their time with him and he shares a sort of playful comradery with every single one that it is always a treat to witness. he brings in that flavour of friendship that brings life to the group as a whole, because his closeness with every single one of them separately, in couples, triplets, quadrats or quintets or all seven of them together is the exact same: it brings playfulness to the front, a sort of easygoing, casual, free atmosphere that tells that he is someone who is a great friend. he brings in discipline as well as that humanness that needs to be tied together in order for anyone to reach anywhere in life, that bts has thruough hoseok.

Jimin: While hoseok brings in the professional aspect of dance in the group, jimin brings in his own separate flavour to it. one that, in my opinion, is the richest out of all of them. similar to hoseok, jimin too is a perfectionist. his perfectionism, however, revolves more around himself, as in he strives and strives to be the absolute best version of himself that he can be for any bit. he seems like someone who compartmentalizes in the extremes, as in he completely immerses himself in the environment he is in. his artistic vision appears to be rigid to him, it can maybe get him in his head, and that is perhaps why he gets lost in it sometimes. his solo does mention getting lost in feelings, going crazy in his reaching, and while they may not be autobiographical, it still says something about him. his personality is more loving and pure, he is caring in a way that seems angelic, knows himself and in that also finds it easier to know others, similar to seokjin. jimin brings in the heart of bts. he is simply full of feelings, but he is articulate and knowledgeable in navigating through them. his addition in the group is his loveliness and his exquisite talent. not only is he an exceptional dancer, but his voice is simply a whole other thing all together. his range and tone is so unique and vast, that bts manages to seamlessly transcend musical restrictions. his vocals are no joke, he is also a good enough rapper, was almost trained in it as well. what jimin brings to the stage when the performance is on is something that only he can bring. he sets the stage in sensuality without even trying, he expertise in the dance forms brings bts that all-rounder status with a depth that would not be possible without jimin.

Taehyung: The face of bts, no doubts at all. he is the one that brings in the crowd in bulks with a single blink of his eye. and i wish i was exaggerating but from my own experiences and almost experiences and judging by what i was listening in the fast-growing fanbase during boy with luv era, i really am not exaggerating at all. its not just his face either. or, perhaps it is, but it's not just his face that does all the work. his personality is such that it just sticks out. not always in the best way, we all know he also has the most haters out of them all as well, but the point stands; he attracts. with the least efforts, he becomes the crowd magnate that if nothing else, makes bts known at the very least. his position in the group has always been dynamic, from the very beginning to even now. being a hidden member, not having any main positions; sharing the visual position with jin, sharing the vocal positions with jungkook and jimin, no separate training to get him into the dance line-up, not enough training in being a rapper -- taehyung has had to prove himself to earn any position at all. but he has achieved his own place in the group in the same effortless manner that he does everything else. and that is what beings in the charisma. while his singing or dancing or visuals or rapping are incredible in themselves, it's no secret that he has grown to betterment. unlike jimin or hoseok or yoongi, taehyung seems to do things simply because he wants to do them. and he seems to be the type to want to be Good at what he does. he is also perhaps the one member in the group whose personality has changed the most over the years out of all of them. that makes him dynamic, it makes him captivating because he does not remain constant and seems to hold parallels inside himself. his uniqueness contributes immensely to the factor, because it doesn't take long to recognise that taehyung is far from being the average person you meet, in fact, he is nowhere close to it. he is smart in a way that he keeps hidden. perceptive in a way that is surprising every single time he lets it break out. he is effortlessly perfect, and he makes it known. he is in control of how he is perceived and that makes him clever in a way that keeps people on their toes whenever he shows up.

Jungkook: The pure, sheer, talent. he is the one that is born for it. the one that can do it all, and can do it all well. like the younger sibling in families, jungkook too is the handyman of the group. there is nothing else to say, he simply really was born to be jungkook of bts. it helps that he is insanely humble and incredible grateful for bts, because that makes him the fuel that that keeps the group running. he lives for bts, not for himself, but for this life. and while that is problematic on a lot of levels, it seems like he sort of is getting the hang of what it means to be a human. it is understandable, since he was recruited at a very young age, and that is also what contributes to him being theoretically perfect. every group needs undiluted talent, talent that can be molded into whichever vessel that is needed, and in bts, that talent is brought in by jungkook. he was acknowledged and acclaimed for it in the beginning itself, he is known by being perfect, and that ideal, the ideal of perfection in all its forms, thats what jungkook symbolises. his perfection comes from not only his born talent, but the fact that he puts effort behind it. him having perfect pitch is what he is born with, but he has trained himself in such a way that he can reach any vocal range at all. he has an energetic body, but he pushes himself to drive that energy out in every single performance to the point of near collapse. his perfection comes from his efforts, his efforts come from his humility, and that comes from keeping the truth of his talents to himself and keeping to work on them. he has never been one to sit idle, or be satisfied, or held himself back. when he gives, he gives in full. and perhaps that is the he is the one that feels the most amongst all of them. his gratitude towards the fans is what keeps them loyal like he is. he never fails to mention his fans for his success, never takes their support for granted, and despite being not as good as namjoon at voicing his feelings, he has such a face that reveals it all. his devotion to his fans is one that is rare to see anywhere else, and that's what maintains the hold bts has on its fans. jungkook is humble to a fault, but the fact that he is learning to think of himself is another beautiful thing entirely.

thus bts would definitely not be bts if even a single one of them wasnt part of it. brain, backbone, passion, discipline, heart, face and talent. even a single aspect goes missing, and you don't have bts. its another thing that they definitely would not be here if it weren't for bighit to push them in the west specifically with its insane pity-gaining and story-selling since the beginning of the formation of the group, but that's a whole different matter all together. bang-pd certainly had no good intentions for the boys individually or even separate from being idols who work under his company, so it makes me not want to call him or the company the soul of bts, but when you really look at it, i guess it wouldn't be too far off the truth to say they sort of did end up selling their souls to the company with its own selfish goals so it would somehow in a twisted way make sense. but anyways, yes, bts is bts because of bighit/bang-pd as well.

[yxstxrdrxxm-a]

Out of the characters rank them from "best" yandere to worst yandere???👀👀👀👀 Only if you want of course 🩷

Rubs hands together. Alright, you asked for this.

(read more + this came from me and Eros's perspective, so its going to be filled with some answers and small tidbits of everyone. Be warned.)

BEST MATCHES

ZHONGLI: As he is a historian professor and has particular tastes for romantic matches, he's actually your safest pick in the list! He makes sure to know your dealbreakers, likes, dislikes, and even your preferences.

DAINSLEIF: Another "parent" figure/platonic choice for most people. The only difference, though, is that he sticks to one person and he doesn't really like being with someone romantically.

BAIZHU: He's a pharmacist and is the third of "he sees people platonically until he finds someone that he can be romantically with".

VENTI: Although he can be a bit questionable, he's still one of the (arguably) safer guys out there. Even if you two don't become an actual couple, he doesn't like hurting those he sees as 'uninvolved', so to speak. Although, it does depend if you'd be able to figure out his 'intent', or you'd dismiss it as one of his jokes.

KAEDEHARA KAZUHA: Kazuha normally should be on people's radars due to his past. After all, you'd never trust a man that is associated with one of the biggest 'scandals' that hurt Inazuma and how he lost his lineage. However, he isn't the worst as he can keep his ground and is mostly focused on exploring than hurting someone.

AETHER: Aether is... The same as Kazuha. Also, he doesn't really see his matches as anything romantically? He'd rather stick to it being a slow friends to potential lovers. (Eros says that he's like a guy who got lost upon getting to the corporation, and I can't help but agree. He's really nice, he's just... Yeah.)

FREMINET: He's the youngest of the triplets, but the danger he can possess is more of his charm. Still, I think whoever gets him has to keep him safe. As a diver, he works independently with the House of Hearth, but he also makes machinery! If you need someone to fix something for you, please contact him. He's the best mechanic you can find.

THOMA: Jack of all trades, master of none. He's just really nice, but protection is a bit... Well, it can be difficult, haha! If anything, I think the danger he has is more of his connections. He's working for the Kamisatos, and I hear that he has some ties to what goes down █████.

GOROU: He's... Uh, he's a veterinarian that trains dogs. Although, he's dangerous as a yandere if you end up getting on his bad side. After all, he had a bad past with Wriothesley and the others, so I can't exactly fault the guy. Just... Be safe.

WRIOTHESLEY: Just like Gorou, he can be very dangerous/bad if you get on his bad side. However, Wriothesley has the patience of the saint. He does accept one since he's a workaholic. (Eros told me he's married to his job, and I sometimes joke that we'll get an invitation for that).

DILUC RAGNIVINDR: Okay, I know this is absurd, but he's... Er, he has some history with Dawn Winery. We can't say too much, but he's not there, I guess. To be frank, he does give me the vibes of being obsessive... Which is weird.

KAEYA ALBERICH: ... Please don't ask us why.

SHIKANOIN HEIZOU: Detectives are pretty much master criminals in the making, honestly. I wouldn't trust a man as him if he suddenly tells you he wants to try something 'new' to catch criminals.

NEUVILLETTE: As the judge, you'd think he would be somewhat high up there, but... He's the same as Kaeya. Please don't ask.

KAMISATO AYATO: ... Sorry. We can't answer why he's here.

XIAO: Same as Ayato, Neuvillette, and Kaeya. (Sheesh, we got some that are TOTAL red flags...)

ALBEDO: He's a bit decent and has a good head on his shoulders, but I don't exactly trust him. Who knows when a chemist may make something that can potentially hurt someone? Well, I doubt he could, but... be careful.

LYNEY: A magician has his secrets, but we don't exactly know Lyney's. Although, knowing his track record, we have our reasons why he's here. Let's just say he's as two-faced as Kaeya, okay?

TIGHNARI: Oh, come on! A ranger who can specialize in forests is like... A disaster waiting to happen. He's also got a mean streak, so good luck.

CYNO: The same as Ayato.

ALHAITHAM: ... Actually, I don't know why he's here. We decided he won't be but... Maybe that incident is why he's here.

IL DOTTORE: Ayato. Please look at his answer there. And Albedo's. That's our conclusion.

"CHILDE": He reeks danger. Please, to whoever gets him run. We cannot tell you why, just run. Don't answer his phone, don't answer the door, just run and don't be a sitting duck.

WANDERER: Do you want to die? No, seriously. Do you? He's the worst of all these men. If you get him... We wish you luck. Because we don't want to be anywhere near him.

WORST MATCHES

[frigid666]

there's the rape fantasy. a sexual fantasy. if i really want to talk about 'my' rape, i will have to go through this. it's a fantasy i've had since i was a child. i would say it's a remnant from the bit of religious education i indirectly received from books, television, kids at school, and neighbors. the women martyrs - those female saints who were tied up and burned alive - were the first images to provoke an erotic response in me. the idea of being handed over, forced to, made to, was morbid and fascinatingly arousing for the little girl i was at the time. those fantasies have never left me. i am convinced that lots of women prefer not to masturbate - claiming it does nothing for them - rather than admit to what arouses them. we aren't all alike, but i'm not the only one to have this fantasy. these rape fantasies, the fantasies of being taken by force in more or less violent situations, which have been present throughout my masturbatory life, didn't come out of the blue. it's a powerful and precise cultural mechanism that predestines female sexuality to climax from its own powerlessness - which is to say from the superiority of the other - and women to orgasm against their will, rather than as sluts who enjoy sex. in judeo-christian morality, it is much better to be taken by force than considered a bitch in heat; we have been told that often enough. there is a female predisposition for masochism, which stems not from our hormones, nor from prehistoric times, but from a specific cultural system, and this predisposition has disturbing implications for the way we exercise our independence. it may be voluptuous and arousing, but it also handicaps us; being attracted to that which destroys us keeps us away from power.

virginie despentes on female sexuality and masochism, king kong theory (trans. by stephanie benson, beatriz preciado and lydia lunch)

adding a break for my personal thoughts and reflections. feel free to ignore, as it is tmi.

this passage really helped me understand why i have always felt a strong alienation from conventional heterosexual female sexual expression (aside from the fact that i am bisexual). most of it does in fact contain a lot of elements of masochism, both overt and subtle, and i picked up on this fact when i was really young; i didn't have the vocabulary to discuss it the way i do now, but depictions of it always made me feel uncomfortable. for whatever reasons that i haven't deciphered yet, i never developed this masochism streak that is so common among women. lacking the proper verbiage for this at the time, i always considered myself to have a more 'masculine' sexuality; i wasn't interested in being sexually brutalized or subservient - the idea seemed humiliating, and not in a sexually arousing way. coupled with my early signs of gender nonconformity, such as peeing standing up, adopting boys' roles in pretend games, and attraction to other girls, i would say i identified more with a male sex role. of course, i've learned since then that not wanting to be harmed during sex or fetishizing dubious consent scenarios is normal, as is being a woman who is sexually attracted to women, but i was left in the dark for years, believing something was wrong with me sexually. i also learned to masturbate (on accident) at a pretty young age, and felt no shame about doing it in private - which is something girls normally struggle with; we are raised to believe masturbating is something only boys do, and that it is shameful for us as girls to indulge ourselves in that way.

additionally, i think it's really interesting that despentes names popular religious imagery as the triggers for her preferred sexual fantasies, because that was the same with me as well. i remember watching passion of the christ (2004) when i was around 10 years old, and its gratuitous depiction of jesus being battered and tortured was essentially my introduction to the concept of male masochism, which became one of a couple early sexual interests i developed. when i finally started being attracted to men, my fantasies were sadistic. due to moral reasons, i did and will not indulge those fantasies, but they remain. this is not my being 'not like other girls,' as i do not judge women for whichever side they happen to fall on. but i suppose being somewhat unconventional in this aspect makes conversations about female sexuality and feminism interesting to say the least.

[meowww-ffxiv]

For Valentione's Day, G'raha asked Mordred for a favor.

He would make some gifts for the people of the First, he said, and include them with the several letters he had written. Not just to Lyna this time, but to others in the Crystarium as well. Katliss, Chessamile, Bragi, the Zhuun masters, all of them.

"In working with the Students of Baldesion, I found myself nostalgic for the haven we have built together on the First," G'raha said. "I have put this off long enough, I think. Though I still do not know if I will dissuade their worries or burden them with more, I want them to know that I still remember them. And sorely miss them."

Mordred said of course. Of course! 🥺🥺🥺

So this was how he found out G'raha was like, Alisaie-caliber of not good with artistic cooking and stuff. Those sandwiches he made for him did always seem a little lopsided, which was their charm point, and the decidedly imperfect chocolates G'raha made shared in that.

But Mordred filled them up into little treat sacks, added extras per G'raha's recommendation based on who was getting what -- he really did remember each and every one of the Crystarium chiefs' preferences, as well as what gripes they usually had with him.

And Mordred said, "I used to loathe the Crystal Tower."

"Yes, you do dislike all things Allagan," G'raha agreed wryly.

"No, I loathed it in particular because it took you from me. The one friend I made free of the sorrow and bloodshed I sowed as the Defender of Eorzea. You were dear to me already, back then. And then you were gone."

G'raha's hands stilled. Mordred's continued to move, steadily, filling up the gift bags and tying them.

"Yet the sight of that radiant spire piercing the heavens in the First, it fills me with hope," Mordred said. "It fills me with-- with defiance, and more love for you and the city you helped build at its foot than you will ever know. You've done it. The wound inside me that was shaped like that tower is now the dearest visage of strength I have, when I close my eyes."

He tied the bags, each with a different color that G'raha had also picked out. Then the letters were stamped with ink of the same colors as the ribbons, so Mordred could tell which was which.

G'raha, for his part, wiped at his eyes and sniffled.

Mordred nudged the box of tissues over to his friend, then looked over the collection of multicolored gift bags before them with satisfaction. There was even a bright orange one, conspicuously if only slightly bigger than the others, for Feo Ul.

"They're going to throw everything they've got at a White Day gift for you, you know," Mordred remarked.

G'raha laughed. "And of course you will be telling them about White Day."

"Course I will."

"Saint Valentione's Day in the Crystarium," G'raha mused, rubbing his chin. "Yes, I can see Katliss going all-out for such an excuse to spruce up the Mean and even the markets. Glynard would probably grumble about it, however. No doubt he thinks the red and pink aesthetics clash horribly with the Wandering Stairs."

"He liked the Starlight garlands I brought over," Mordred shrugged.

"The ones that you stole?"

"I didn't steal 'em!" Mordred protested indignantly. "They were already taken off the lampposts and everything! They were just going to be recycled anyway by being fed to-- to some herbivores. I rescued them. I recycled them."

"As you say," G'raha agreed mildly, though his eyes sparked with mirth. He grinned. "Then perhaps we should 'recycle' some of the Valentione decorations in Gridania this year as well? Moren will appreciate physical souvenirs, I'm sure of it."

"Deal," Mordred said immediately. "I'll hold off on delivering these till the day after, then, and have it be a huge pallet of gifts. I'm sure Feo Ul can squeeze me through."

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Great Hunt! Chapter 38: Practice

While this particular picture was of course taken by Entertainment Weekly, it comes to me by way of "hotzxgirl.com" and was labeled "Eye of the Tar Valon | Hot sex picture". Spoiler alert! Unless you have a lot of very specific fetishes, this is not a hot sex picture. It also doesn't even depict anything that happens in this chapter, but that's not going to stop me is it? What might stop you if you don't like spoilers is the knowledge that if you keep reading, you consent (in a hot and sexy way?) to get all sorts Wheel of Time spoilers from all over the series.

This chapter has a Flame of Tar Valon icon now that we're back in Tar Valon. It's been awhile! Four or five in-world months and like... fourteen chapters, I think?

She knew how easy it was to touch saidar now. She could always feel it there, waiting for her, like the smell of perfume or the feel of silk, drawing her, drawing her. And once she did touch it, she could rarely stop from channeling, or at least trying to. She failed almost as often as she succeeded, but that was only another spur to keep on.

Untainted, saidar is naturally a much bigger draw for channelers than its twin. It's also a great mindset Egwene has as a student, especially since she is also a bit concerned by her growing addiction as well. Unlike Rand, she knows damn well she's going to be a daily user.

Three short paces took Nynaeve from wall to white-plastered wall; Nynaeve’s own room was much larger, but since she had made no friends among the other Accepted, she came to Egwene’s room when she needed someone to talk to, even as now when she did not talk at all.

This is such a mood.

“Else was making calf’s eyes at Galad today while he was working with the Warders,” Min said, rocking the stool on two legs.

It's funny how Min so naturally recreates the described conditions of Emond's Field for Egwene, being the latest eyes-and-ears reporting on a woman's movement towards the gentleman Egwene has picked.

It's also clear build-up for that pairing that Jordan abandoned later on down the line in favor of Egwene/Gawyn and Galad/Berelain. It's nice and somewhat more realistic though, that unlike most of the other main characters, Egwene doesn't find her true suitor immediately.

He’d hurt a person because he had to serve a greater good. He wouldn’t even notice who was hurt, because he’d be so intent on the other, but if he did, he would expect them to understand and think it was all well and right.

This is the thing that separates Galad from being an actual fucking saint, the way his big picture focus hides him from the little details.

War in Cairhien. War on Toman Head. They may have caught the false Dragon in Saldaea, but there’s still war in Tear. Most of it is rumors, anyway.

A nod to the Gospel of Matthew, which says that a sign of the end times is wars and rumors of wars. Guess this is just what you have to expect from all the comings of Rand.

She had not dreamed about him in months, now, not the kind of dreams she had had on the River Queen. Anaiya still made her write down everything she dreamed, and the Aes Sedai checked them for signs, or connections to events, but there was never anything about Rand except dreams that, Anaiya said, meant she missed him. Oddly, she felt almost as if he were not there any longer, as if he had ceased to exist, along with her dreams, a few weeks after reaching the White Tower.

Obviously it's a bit silly to talk about abandoned ideas UNDER abandoned ideas, but one wonders if Jordan had originally intended for Egwene to stop being a dreamer at the end of the series, the way her initial foray here is so intimately tied to Rand's presence in the world.

That sent a chill through her, as it never failed to do, the thought of Rand being gentled, Rand weeping and wanting to die as Logain did.

Here the reader is reminded that though there's Mirror Worlds out there where Egwene gentles or kills Rand, they're not her true self and in any case those Egwenes were probably just as devastated as the real one would be to be backed into such a corner.

“I’m sorry, Min,” Nynaeve said in a tight voice. “Sometimes my temper. . . . I can’t ask you to forgive me, not for this.” She took a deep breath. “If you want to report me to Sheriam, I will understand. I deserve it.”

A nice bit that shows that Nynaeve's a good person who just has some issues, but it's also funny to note that Nynaeve is demonstrating she's exactly the sort of person Galad assumes everyone would be under the circumstances.

With murmurs of “forgiven” that sounded meant on both sides, the two women hugged.

Gosh Nyneve and Min are fun together. It's a real shame they won't really get to hang out much until Rand's practically having his Sith armor made.

A man who drove oxen as hard as they drive us would be shunned. I am tired all the time. I wake up tired and go to bed exhausted, and sometimes I’m so afraid that I will slip and channel more of the Power than I can handle that I. . . .

I expect that training in the AoL was still rigorous but nowhere near as exhausting and that much as battlefield first aid is the only kind of Healing still left, the only sorts of instruction that survived through the Breaking were something like the Hell Week stints before final examinations. And then naturally they never bothered to see if there was a less grueling method.

“The Traveling People are tempting,” Nynaeve agreed, “but wherever you go, it will not change what you can do. You cannot run from saidar.” She did not sound as if she liked what she was saying.

Somewhere far away, Moiraine is laughing and she doesn't know why.

Min shifted on her stool. “I don’t like reading friends,” she muttered. “Friendship gets in the way of the reading. It makes me try to put the best face on what I see. That’s why I don’t do it for you three anymore. Anyway, nothing has changed about you that I can. . . .”

Poor Min probably's been burned once or twice with a friend she thought she could trust with the secret of her power, only for the thirst for knowledge to overcome any actual relationship. It must really suck now that her friends aren't just channelers, who always have omens, but specifically the plot relevant ones.

Before she reached it, though, a dark-eyed Aes Sedai with her blond hair done in a multitude of braids stepped into the room. Egwene blinked in surprise, as much at it being any Aes Sedai as at Liandrin. She had not heard that Liandrin had returned to the White Tower, but beyond that, novices were sent for if an Aes Sedai wanted them; it could mean no good, a sister coming herself.

Especially not since the danger omen probably triggered specifically the moment Liandrin set out to the rooms.

“Do you have some word of Rand?” Egwene asked eagerly. Liandrin arched an eyebrow at her. “Forgive me, Aes Sedai. I forget myself.” “Have you word of them?” Nynaeve said, just short of a demand. The Accepted had no rule about not speaking to an Aes Sedai until spoken to.

1. Egwene why would you think a Red showing up to give you news about Rand is something to ask after eagerly?

2. Nynaeve would have acted exactly the same way she does here even if she were a Novice.

“Someday, I am sure, you will serve a cause, and you will learn then that to serve it you must work even with those whom you dislike. I tell you I have worked with many with whom I would not share a room if it were left to me alone. Would you not work alongside the one you hated worst, if it would save your friends?”

I wonder which Black sisters in particular Liandrin doesn't like. Are the 12 who run off with her included? Any non Red/Black combo?

(Also by "Someday, I am sure, you will serve a cause," she means "Next Tuesday at the latest you'll be slaves", just saying.)

You two come from their village. In some way I do not entirely understand, you are connected to them. Beyond that, I cannot say.

Surprisingly, all of this is entirely truthful. I mean, yeah the first sentence is obvious, but the second sentence means "I am not able to question my masters as to why you're important but they say you are" and the third sentence means "I'm bound by the Oath Rod not to betray their secrets anyway".

“You have my permission. Tell no one. No one at all. The Black Ajah walks the halls of the White Tower.”

Speaking of being bound not to reveal secrets, there's three options for how she pulls this off:

1. The straightforward one is what she says below, that with Tarmon Gai'don approaching this can't be denied any longer. Presumably this would be an executive decision by Ishamael or at least Alviarin and not something Liandrin is able to decide on her own.

2. Her explanation is merely a way of hiding her allegiance. The truth is she knows that Siuan and Moiraine know about the Black Ajah and possibly others and thus she no longer considers the Ajah's existing a secret that has to be held close.

3. As above, but instead of Siuan and Moiraine being the catalysts, Liandrin feels that the certainty of these girls dying as damane, utterly cut off from any way to spread the knowledge, still counts as holding the secret close and thus she can disclose it. As this is the closest to traditional "villain monologuing to a hero caught in a death trap", it's my preferred one.

“She is Aes Sedai,” Nynaeve said dryly. “I’ll wager my best silver pin against a blueberry that every word she said was true. But I wonder if we heard what we thought we did.”

Quite possibly everything she said was true, which means that the Black Ajah has been getting ahold of any letters Moiraine is sending to Siuan in confidence. Pretty alarming how deep the rot goes!

I can’t even go for a walk without the Amyrlin herself popping out and asking me to read whoever we see. When that woman asks you to do something, there doesn’t seem to be any way out of it. I must have read half the White Tower for her, but she always wants another demonstration.

Siuan is probably trying to get a handle on what's going to happen in the Tower in the lead up to the Last Battle, though unfortunately Min's symbols are far too esoteric for them to make any sense of at this point - and don't show up until they're set in stone anyway. Whatever hopes she had of Black Ajah hunting by this method must be roundly dashed by now.

I’ll bet we won’t either of us cry ourselves to sleep on an adventure.

And here comes dramatic irony with the steel chair!

I can see the danger around all of you more clearly, now. Not clearly enough to make it out, but I think it has something to do with you deciding to go. That’s why it is clearer; because it is more certain.

I think Min's on the right track but missing a little bit here. The certainty is tied to the vector of danger: Liandrin and the Seanchan. If the girls did refuse, ran to Sheriam, and told all, they might not leave the Tower at all (at least not Elayne; maybe not the others if Sheriam's out of the loop about Liandrin) and would instead have the uncertain danger of the backup plan of the Black Ajah looming over them instead.

However much she might argue beforehand, once a course of action had been decided, Nynaeve always went right to the practicalities: what they had to take with them, and how cold it would be by the time they reached Toman Head, and how they could get their horses from the stables without being stopped.

Being Village Wisdom, the only way to be effective is to worry about the practicalities, even if the woolheads on the Village Council have decided to do something stupid and won't listen to you. It'll be a trait that helps her out later too, when she's a queen.

[lixahl]

which of your ocs is most yaoiful 🤨

all of my men are yaoiful HOWEVER. this may come as a surprise. but i believe in MOST YAOIFUL OLD MAN EVER ARANE STORMRAGE SWEEP!!!!!!!

whats more yaoiful than being so devoted to a man you break out of prison and carry his warglaives because his imprisoned/dead body got stolen by evil bitches. and then doing everything in your power to revive him, then getting him revived (khadgar is there) and running full force into his arms and getting spun around. and then later on begging him to not imprison himself for eternity because he's got this stupid "the hunter is nothing without the hunt" self-sacrificial bullshit going on. and then retiring and having a kid and honeymooning on the dragon isles and ignoring every horror after bfa.

readmore because i have more yaoiful guys (honorable mentions and also for other not-wow yaoiful guys)

honorable mention for warcraft is ameres and gabrianel

(gabrianel is the not-blond one)

both of these men currently have too much time on their hands and are having loads of gay sex. very yaoiful.

actually there's also astraxia as well. currently acting as a broodfather to their partner altyvian (my husband's oc) so also having loads of gay sex SORRYYYYY

for ffxiv it's tied between my only two man ocs. sorry i don't think either of them are more yaoiful than the other, they're different kinds of yaoiful. yes they are both au ra because i like the lizard

eldegai (left) is more yaoiful in the "he's a dominant type" way and akihiko is more yaoiful in the "jesus christ this man is so submissive" way. and yes they both have canon character partners; magnai for eldegai, and hien for akihiko. there's something wrong with me.

AND FINALLY. for most yaoiful not-fan oc character. the title goes to none other than MEKO KELSI

we love yaoiful men who are women who aren't either a man or woman but still a man. he's a bimbo. he's a saint. she met her husband at a sex toy store. it died in its husband's arms to become immortal. he has a pet rat. she's a demon of pestilence. and of course, he has loads of gay sex. yay

runner up for non-fan oc is abalone though. because i love her and i love she/her gay men

[swagmother]

Alright, here comes 10+ movie reviews from some miscellaneous week in March that I guess I was particularly compelled to watch multiple erotic things, feel free to scroll by very quickly and ignore me forever :

Secretary: it was alright…. Empowering in ways some might say but also sexual but not necessarily because it also begs the question: what is …. Sex(y)??? No one will ever know…. :[

All Ladies Do It: This was definitely sexual and also a solid 3/5 at a generous most, I think most people like butts so if you yourself are a butt enthusiast you’d probably have no qualms watching this

Couples Retreat: Awful…. Vince Vaughn is incidentally the inventor of guitar hero in this but it’s really just about how you should preserve bad relationships, Get this out of my face

Never Been Kissed: Another awful movie! It certainly had potential initially but things started getting exceedingly worse extremely fast, this movie does not see anything wrong with a high school teacher being attracted to a supposed 16 year old, and when it’s revealed Drew Barrymore actually isn’t 16 and is an undercover reporter, he’s like “you LIED, how could you….” Buddy…. Wow

All My Friends Hate Me: this one was pretty alright, if you have an anxiety disorder and watch this you will probably be really upset after because it turns out your friends actually do hate you and you’ve been a big pathetic narcissistic loser your whole life!!! And if they don’t think that yet, your anxiety will definitely make them feel that way soon…. That’s the moral of the story

Violent Cop: true to its name, this is about a cop who certainly has an adjective of sorts. I think this also was pretty alright, I really enjoyed the direction and cinematography which I expected because those qualities (among others) were also very strong in the previous Takeshi Kitano films I’ve seen! I do think this was my least favorite of his so far though, the SA stuff felt a little unnecessary in my opinion, plot was alright

The Boondocks Saints: I think I may have seen this at some point during highschool but if so I certainly didn’t remember. This just felt like a ginormous Tarantino rip off but it was still good ish…. Willem Defoe of course was amazing, that uhh goon for the mafia with the long hair was pretty funny… other than that I kinda hated it tbh I lied before sorry

The Worst Person in the World: I feel like i don’t have that much to say about this one but I really enjoyed it. It was just a really good movie with much pain and humor as well, i would recommend it….

In the Realm of the Senses: big sex movie, it was way more fucked up than I had anticipated and I even saw things that I uhhh I don’t know I was kinda uncomfortable! That’s all I have to say

Antichrist: big sex movie, it was way less fucked up than I had anticipated but it was still fucked up… I had been meaning to watch this for years and it did not disappoint, like I’ve been saying since the day I was born: live spelt backwards….. is evil

Ravenous: this was a good cannibal movie, and I don’t mean just like “good” but I mean it is so good its the first time I watched a cannibal movie and I was like hmmm I should definitely send my cells to get synthesized into meat as soon as it is accessible to the public so I can eat myself and make my friends eat me too and then they can get their own synthesized meat and I’ll eat them too and it will be extremely chill times

Force Majeure: if i was the wife I would’ve uhhh…. I don’t know I think just doing anything would be better than staying with this big loser…. The kids are super toxic as well and giving very bad vibes, she certainly needs to cut ties with those toxic ipad children and Mr. Loser like imagine going on a skiing trip with this gaggle of goons and you think you’re about to die from an avalanche and your husband abandons you and your children but it was a false alarm and everyone’s fine and your husband is like “haha that was close good thing I was right there next to you guys the whole time” and then he whines and cries about being a big loser the whole rest of the trip

Shotgun wedding: it was fine

The Hunt: this was also fine

Dogtooth: this was great and also really fucked up I would absolutely recommend it

Maniac: this was… I have mixed feelings about this… I think Elijah wood does a pretty good job at acting which is a really good skill to have when you act for a career. There were also some cool gore moments/practical effects but not many overall, this take on a first person pov was…. Interesting

The Stunt Woman: I thought this was good! I really enjoyed watching it, Michele Yeoh is extremely cool and it was a touching movie…

[polarwooly]

Calling You Names

Chapter 1: A Friend of Darkness

Summary: As the night falls over a small mountain village, a well-dressed stranger and a grumpy loner run into each other in the mist-filled streets. Which one of them turns out to be worse news remains to be seen, but at least now they have someone to talk to.

Calling You Names Vampire AU

Chapter 1: A Friend of Darkness

It was festival-time in a small mountain village by the edge of the old cedar woods. This was one of the innumerable small celebrations that dotted the year without a proper name, known as celebrating a different saint in every town around the countryside. The decorations were modest, mostly consisting of brightly-colored banners hung over doorways and tied to the branches of trees, with little figures of men in the midst of everyday activities embroidered on them by children as practice for things that would become more consequential later in their lives. There were also street-vendors and treats for those who did particularly well on their little men, which most years were all but the most ill-tempered young hooligans in the village. They of course resorted to stealing without much moral issue, so in the end, everyone got their fair share of the delicious, sugar-covered foods. All that was under the gentle heat of the autumn sun that gilded the tips of rose-bush-leaves and shimmered brightly on the last harvests of golden grain that still waited collecting on the vast fields on the valley below. However, like in all places bar the very edges of the map to the North during its brief summer, eventually the sun cast its final rays of the day over the sky above the town square, setting it ablaze with all the colors of fiery fall, before letting the ember cool into a coal of the darkest black.

Around these mountains, the night seemed to always set darker than anywhere in the surrounding area, falling over the old cedar woods so thick it lingered on clothing and grasped at the edges of your vision even after you reached the comforting light of the doorstep of your home. Of course conventional wisdom would prove this merely a trick of the mind, as the studied men of science could tell you the darkness of night in and of itself could neither be more intense without any causative factor, nor did it have any sort of stickiness to it that might make it stain your overcoat if you walked too close to it. This was the manner of scientists of the well-lit cities where the many noises after dusk can simply be attributed to one of their innumerable neighbors, at least one of whom must have been awake at every hour of the day. Their homes bred ignorance of the every-day, in favor of allowing focus on the pattern of a moth's flight or the axis of the earth. The townspeople of the mountains had no such luxury. In the absence of street-lamps, they could see the shreds of shadow taking root behind their houses and hear the rattle of the wind on their roofs on a still night without the comforting drum of carriages to drown it out. It wasn't that they were more or less superstitious than the men in the cities who held lectures about the finer minutia of mathematics, it was only that they could see the looming, dark, hungry forest for the trees that may have had many fascinating foreign names.

By the light of the waning moon, a still quiet spread over the streets like a creeping fog, heavy and dark, swallowing up even the memory of the colors that mere hours ago seemed to blossom forth from every nook and cranny. There was still plenty of high spirits to go around, as evidenced by the lights that filtered through locked windows and the laughter that echoed out of a door from which a group of party-goers started towards home. It was a rare man that traveled the streets alone after dusk here. Every mother pressed it hard into the minds of her children and those children, as they came of age to go out and find their own fun among the other youths, followed it with uncharacteristic dedication for their age. Afterall, which one of them didn't have a cousin or a distant uncle or aunt who was swallowed up by the night? So, following wisdom that would serve them better than any to be found in a dusty old tome, they leaned on each other and spoke softly as the lamps of the inn grew dim behind them. As they stumbled down the sodden streets, many a glance was thrown up at the thin crescent that was already presenting a shadow of the three nights every month the skies were dark and the woods covering the slopes came alive with all the unwholesome creatures of the earth.

The air hanging over the town was tense. This was nothing new, as the tenseness was not akin to that of a taut bow that tired the hand that kept it drawn, but more of the sort in a wild hare’s ears. Born of instinct, constantly present. Justified. Cutting through the harsh atmosphere and the low mist that crept in from the valley with the late chill of autumn, a figure sailed with calm, measured steps under the gate that watched over the entrance to the main street. Were it not for the softness of the earth after the recent rain, the street would have echoed with footfalls unlike those of any man who made his home in the small town. Being as it was, however, any sound that might have marked his passing was muffled by mud and the beautifully embroidered dark cape that hung over his shoulders. As he walked, he let his eyes pass over the shuttered windows and trailed his gloved fingers between the little pieces of fabric caught in the bushes of bloomless roses. He knew these streets and was well-accustomed to the old family names that decorated the many signposts and storefronts, though it was a rare person who could have recalled his name in return. He was a stranger.

As he drifted nearly soundlessly past homes and alleyways, a sight he was not entirely used to caught the stranger’s attention. A small figure clad in a thick woolen cloak, slumped against a wall behind the meager cover of a rainwater-barrel. An oddly solitary figure in a place where not even the well and truly intoxicated wandered far from their friends. A delicate crease of worry showed on pale skin as he drew a little closer and crouched down a hint to catch the face under the heavy hood. His pale green eyes were met with bright crescent moons shining out of midnight black, the odd bicoloration taking the stranger slightly by surprise. Their gaze was as sharp as the point of the silvery dagger that flew out between the stranger’s outstretched fingers and the loner’s shoulder from the depths of the rumpled fabric. Quickly, the gloved hand withdrew from the reach of the blade.

"No need for that, loner," he tried amiably. His voice was soft yet deep, giving his calm words the quality of a satisfied cat's purr. Underneath the arm coiled for a strike, he could make out a soldier's uniform. The fabric was moth-eaten and undecorated, but didn’t seem like it had been that way for more than a few days. He’d heard an army squadron had passed nearby recently and wondered if this shabby little man belonged to it. Tilting his head slightly, he considered the state of him. Apart from being pale and haggard, he seemed mostly uninjured, though his eyes looked wide and slightly frightened, darting between his face and hands. The stranger had always been a good judge of people's emotions and these days sought to disturb them as rarely as possible. He put on a kind smile and shifted his weight from one foot to the other in a way he hoped would convey a relaxed stance. “Your friends left town some hours ago, should you not be following them? If it's the mist that has you turned around, I can point you the way, if you'd like."

The ratty loner bunched further in on himself and growled in a voice that could have belonged to someone twenty years older than the features revealed in the moonlight suggested. "Why would you think I’m a soldier? These clothes are just something to keep off the chill now, the mark of the King no longer weighs me down."

"Then you have been left behind?" Soft velvet-covered fingers hovered against the pale silk cravat that peeked out from under the cape’s clasps.

"You are observant, stranger," an unimpressed grumble answered back.

"May I ask what crime you have committed to be so cruelly abandoned?"

The smaller figure, still sitting propped up against the darkened wall, laughed bitterly. As his lips drew back, the stranger noted the sharpness and odd make of the teeth that the sardonic grin bore. Briefly, he wondered.

"Why, I am an enemy of God," barked the loner.

"An enemy?” The auburn hair trailing behind the well-dressed shoulders shifted like a silken veil as he shook his head in disbelief. “Surely not. I have heard God loves all mankind. The priests say one need only repent to receive salvation at the End of Days." His words were kind, but the sentiment he offered rang as one borrowed. Like something he’d read on the pages of a foreign book once, a long time ago.

"Perhaps it is that I do not repent!" The loner spat. "To repent one's sins is to admit the error in their ways. I maintain my actions are blameless."

"Then why should they so name you, if not for deeds you have committed?"

"They name me for my words, my thoughts. The content of my character. Are those not more dangerous to a pious man than any fool blade?" The glimmer of silver disappeared under the woolen cloak once more, but no rattle of a sheath could be heard.

The stranger stood for a moment, caught in cautious thought, then offered forward a palm clad in velvet that shone bright white and stainless in the moonlight. "Come then. Let me know this person whose words are more dangerous than a dagger and who is hated by the Lord Himself."

The stranger's grip was strong around the loner's forearm, much more so than could be expected for his size or the softness of his aspect. Quickly, he was on his feet. The stranger suggested an inn by the edge of town where they might sit and chat more comfortably and the two began their walk down the dark streets. At first the conversation was slow-going as the loner dragged his feet in answering the stranger’s many polite questions, but as he continued to prod, a trickle developed into a steady stream of words.

The front of the inn was made of dark wood and decorated in the spirit of the holiday with multi-colored banners tucked under the loose ends of boards and nailed above the door frame. Neither of the two needed to crouch to get in under them, though the loner did stop to allow the other to go before him with a nod and a wave of his hand. As the door swung open, their attention was arrested by the threshold. A line, drawn in white, grainy powder ran the length of the first board. The loner looked to the stranger with a question in his eyes. He seemed to read it without glancing up from the pale streak.

"It's believed that salt prevents evil creatures from entering. The owner here has never been quite so literal about the old ways before… I wonder if anything has happened." Although he had to admit he hadn't actually come in in a few years. Maybe the old woman who ran the place had since passed and left it in more cautious hands. The loner huffed and rolled his eyes, scuffing the trail with the toe of his boot.

"Well, it won't stop me, I'm hungry."

Stepping over the now broken line, he headed for a nook by the back of the common-room, where the light didn't quite reach the wall and the neighboring company were all snoring into their table. The stranger hopped over the line carefully to not disturb it further and went by the counter in the front, ordering before joining the loner in the shadows. He found him with his feet propped up on the table, fidgeting with the side of his uniform as if in one spot just over his ribs it played host to a family of fleas. As he joined him in sitting down, a tactful hand pushed the muddy boots to the side until they were withdrawn and he was rewarded with an uncluttered tabletop and an obstinate frown. A tall woman with her hair up in a loose knot brought over two glasses, a bottle and a plate of simple food that she arranged at the center of the table. She maintained her professional incuriosity as the well-dressed stranger paid for their meal from a rich leather coin pouch and strode off to throw out some of the other guests who had been growing rowdier for a while now.

The loner watched her leave before unfolding his arms to drag the plate between them closer and beginning to toss back the small fried bits with thin, clawed fingers. The stranger did not protest in the slightest as soggy, oily potatoes did not particularly excite his appetite. He reached over and poured them both healthy portions of the golden drink instead. Bringing the glass over to his lips, he waved it around, savoring the sweet scent before tasting it lightly. The loner followed his example and took a bold swig, turning the glass in his hand as he examined the flavor.

“Hm. I would have thought you more partial to wine. Not that I’m complaining. That is some good mead.”

The stranger lifted the bend of his fingers to his lips and chuckled quietly. “Yes, this recipe is a favorite of mine. It’s been in this family for generations, I hear.”

“And for good reason!” The glass clacked, emptied, to the table and was filled anew.

“Now that we’re comfortable, would you find it rude if I asked for your life story? What made a man like yourself end up in a town such as this, a loner dressed in a soldier’s clothing?” He leaned in slightly as he spoke and rested a well-groomed cheek on his fingertips.

“What’s there to say?” The other loner shrugged. “I was born, I didn't have fun and now I’m here.” His dismissive tone seemed lost on the stranger.

“I wouldn’t mind if you started from the beginning. Where are you from? Have you family back home?” There was a beat of thoughtful chewing before the question was answered.

“I’m from the South and the West. I would guess that doesn’t surprise you much, given some of my features.” He gestured a hand at his face, which to the stranger was a practically incomprehensible mixture of odd and fascinating quirks. He had thought himself well-traveled, but he had to admit he would struggle to name the home country of men whose eyes shone gold and ebony. A deep sigh escaped the loner as he lamented not being interrupted.

“From the beginning then…” He tapped a nail on the wood of the table and seemed to search for the most pertinent details of his journeys. “As a child I lived with my parents by the South Ocean. I was ill frequently, but perhaps that is what made me take an interest in medicine later in life. My family never approved of my fascinations in that field, so when I turned twenty, I packed my bags.” He made a gesture with his hand like a bird taking flight. “I told my parents I was off to ‘see the world’ before they would marry me off to some person I didn’t know or care for, but in actuality I moved as far North as train would take me. I enrolled in a foreign University and studied medicine like I had always wanted to. Of course when I returned home, I didn’t receive the warmest welcome. Disowned on the spot, you see.” He smiled darkly into his glass. The stranger looked on, eyes filled with sympathy, but didn’t make a move to change the subject.

“My brother,” the loner grumbled out the words, “had gone and enlisted in the army while I was away, the damn fool. I couldn’t just let him get himself killed. He’d always looked after me when we were children, so I thought I’d return the favor. So I got myself in as a surgeon and went with him. That’s how I ended up in the army.”

“You’ve certainly led an interesting life.” The stranger’s voice purred again. His green eyes caught the distant light of the fireplace and seemed to hold on to it for a moment too long as it flickered. “But I’ve yet to hear any reason for your dismissal. Nothing you’ve described so far seems that out of the ordinary.”

“That’s the trick, isn’t it.” The plate was now empty and the loner pushed it back to the center of the table with a low clatter, pulling his arms under the cloak and out of sight again. “I have told you only the parts that I want you to know. Everything that makes me look good. The rest of the story is quite devoid of all that, I’m afraid.” He picked his teeth with a slightly hooked nail as he spoke. “You see, I’m a man of dark preoccupations. Even as a child, my mother could see that. She wasn’t shy about letting me know the ‘proper’ ways to act and neither was I in my defiance of her.”

Something in his own words made him pause and he made eye contact with the stranger from under his hood. The piercing gaze of the two crescent moons was enough to make him shift in his seat. It felt as though he was a book, cracked for the first time in years, right at his index. A thin smile crept across the loner’s face, revealing the barest hint of sharp teeth.

“I found my interests lay from the very start at the horizon of life and death, and where one transitioned into the other. Living things held little value to me, but of their inner workings I was endlessly curious. I wished to know what happened to the soul after death, and if it was possible to return it to the body. My experiments were frankly childish and more than a little macabre in hindsight.” He chuckled as if remembering fondly some summer evenings long passed. “Yet another thing that drove me in my quest to study medicine, I suppose.”

“Pardon me if I misunderstand, but would matters of the soul not be the preview of the Church more than of science?”

“No, no, that’s what I thought too, in the beginning. I consulted with some holy men on the topic, but it turns out if there was one place more firmly barred from me than the operating theater it was the sacristy. It turns out God isn’t exactly one to be questioned. And when a few of their holy texts showed signs of being perused… Well, let’s just say I felt I was no longer welcome.” He spat a crumb of something he’d been chewing to the floor.

“I’m beginning to see how you might have fallen out of favor.”

“You don’t know the half of it…” The loner flattened himself spinelessly into the table and rested his chin in the crook of his arm.

“I would like to, if you don’t mind?” The stranger leaned in a bit more and smiled gently, trying to encourage forth as many little stories as possible. He enjoyed hearing about people’s regular little lives immensely and talking about themselves tended to make them happier also. The loner, though, seemed to tense up again under his baggy cloak as soon as he pried into something that was not part of his chosen narrative.

“There are some things that aren't for the ears of strangers,” he huffed and shifted the topic with more tact than the stranger had seen him display all night. “But I must bore you, prattling on about myself like this. What about you?”

“Oh, I?” The stranger blinked, a little startled. “Wouldn’t you rather tell me more of your brother, for instance? Where is he now?”

“No, I don’t think that would interest you.” The yellow and black gaze was unfathering.

The stranger shifted his head as if the blank wooden wall next to them had suddenly grown more interesting than the bicolored eyes digging into his. It was unusual for someone to break with his gentle inquiries. His questions normally had an inviting edge to them and his smile tended to put people at ease, yet the loner disregarded them. He found himself slightly disturbed by the willpower the man had to avoid revealing his secrets. In another way, it was… pleasant. He realized he hadn’t actually spoken of himself in quite a while and, even if it was for the purpose of being misdirected, the attention warmed his pallid skin ever so subtly.

“Very well… Please pardon me if my words run on, I speak of myself quite rarely.” An obliging nod of the hood encouraged him on. He clasped his hands together on the table and rubbed his fingers, reflecting back across the years that separated him from his youth. “I too was born outside the borders of this land. My home is… was, in the West, beyond the Narrow Sea. My family was quite poor, my father worked as a fur-trapper for a local Lord whenever the craving for a new piece of clothing struck him. My older brothers and I helped him, but work was slim most years. We were happy, though, and made due.” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, though this one was more bitter-sweet than openly inviting. “I still remember my mother singing to our younger siblings, of the fair-folk and the wily creatures of the forest. I would help teach them to run through the secret paths of the woods and to shoot a bow at targets across our yard…"

“Then I was in an accident while we were out hunting. My arm would not heal and I became a burden.” A ripple passed over the impassive surface of his face as he straightened the sleeve of his dark coat. He could see the loner taking notice and quickly folded the limb back on the table, which only managed to excite a more inquisitive look. He supposed there was no point in hiding it from him, though it was a particularly painful memory in more ways than one.

The loner bobbed his head similar to how an owl might, with eyes equally round and curious. “Seems to have worked itself out eventually.”

“Yes, I am thankful for that. The Lord who we worked for showed us kindness, you see. My father bargained with him and he took me on as a servant in exchange for sending them my pay for every season of work." The loner sitting opposite him moved his dark eyebrows in a way that made him suspect he might have some opinions on the equitability of this deal. The stranger was not so conceited as to deny even he had had his doubts about it at the time, but he waved a hand to break off the exercise in hindsight. "It was a generous offer for someone in my position."

With a drawn-out blink and a shrug, the challenge was withdrawn. "Sorry. So tell me, how did it all work out for you?"

"I stayed with him for years. He…” The words took a while to take acceptable form. “He had no children. I think that made him take a shine to me, eventually. He taught me the finer crafts of life, even named me his legal heir and all but adopted me outright. He made me the man I am today.” The ornate fastenings of his cape jingled against luxurious silk as he spread his arms to gesture to himself. Though there was pride in the way the little gems shone in his jewelry and the finely tailored suit fit his form, there was also an undercurrent of melancholy. He could not deny some of the decisions that were now thrust upon him he would rather have never thought about, even if it meant learning to hunt one-handed. Then again, he had never been one to complain. He adjusted the signet ring on his finger absentmindedly, squaring the ornate little symbol of a poised bobcat. “I moved to live here on his request, to manage the land while he puts his focus on other things.”

“So you hold a title?”

“Well, yes, I suppose.”

“I ask because the townspeople don’t seem overly excited by your presence.”

“I don't visit in person much, I doubt if anyone here could actually put my name and my face together. It suits me fine, of course, it is nicer to travel when you’re not constantly surrounded by curious eyes.”

“Must be.” The loner polished off the last of the mead in the bottle. The stranger suspected there was more packed into those two words than in the entirety of his own story. Bony fingers clapped the table, making the both stranger and the empty glasses jump slightly. “Well, the night is getting long in the tooth, I must be off to find some hole to park my carcass in for the next few nights. You must have things that need doing as well, so I won’t keep you any longer.”

“Wait.” A velvet glove captured one of the hands still on the table. The loner didn’t pull it away, but narrowed his eyes in a way that made pressure lift instantly and an apologetic smile spread on the stranger’s lips. He tried to remind himself to avoid doing that. “Pardon my presumptiveness, but I wanted to offer my guest room for your use tonight. I would hate to think of sending you into the fall chill after the wonderful conversation we’ve had. My home is only a short ride away through the cedar woods.”

The loner’s face wrinkled with distaste and suspicion and the stranger was sure his offer was about to be turned down in some rather colorful language. His face fell a fraction. The weather on the mountains really was quite unpredictable to someone not used to it and no townsfolk in their right mind would let a completely unknown person into their homes at this hour of night. They knew better. And really, his motivations were selfish as well. He had been hoping to talk a bit more with this strange man who brought a little variation to his normally formulaic visits. The loner got up from the table, but seemed to hesitate to step away, raising a hand to the spot on his side he’d been fidgeting with earlier.

“Why not.”

The stranger’s head perked up and a genuine smile lifted the corners of his pointed mustache. He rose from his seat as well, following the loner as he once again abraded his way across the line of salt by the door. “Oh, wonderful! I will lead the way, it really is quite close if you know the right paths to take… Where is your horse stabled?”

“I haven’t got one. They aren’t in the habit of handing those out to just anyone accused of blasphemy these days.”

“Ah. Well, I’m sure I can arrange something.”

Finding a person willing to sell or rent any horse to a couple of unknown men in the middle of the night turned out to be much easier than one would have expected, when you offered the right people the right amount of coinage. The loner rolled his eyes nearly every time the stranger insisted on handing out another stack of coppers to every tired stablehand who deigned to cautiously answer their door and inform them of their master’s stock. Finally, as the sliver of moon that still shone in the sky was beginning to pass midnight, the two of them stood outside a small stable by the edge of town with a portly, balding man still in his nightshirt as he unlatched the gate by the light of a flickering lantern. He was a businessman at heart and that meant he could not resist up-charging people in need. Even more critically, he had married into the area from the nearby city only a few months ago.

The door squeaked as it swung to the side, revealing a few stalls of gray workhorses that were not nearly as sleepy-looking as their master, eyeing the newcomers as nervously as any true townsfolk would have. The owner pointed a stocky finger at the young stallion closest to the door, with a wiry frame and a patchy pelt. The two smaller men walked in a little closer as a dilapidated saddle that was almost certainly more valuable than the actual animal was being selected from the wall at the back. At the sight of them, the horse tossed its head and the back of the stall banged and rattled as a hoof came into violent contact with its metal bindings. The stranger looked the animal up and down critically, before leaning over to the loner’s ear. “What caliber of horseman would you consider yourself?”

“I should say I’m not a beginner. Let me give him a try.”

The owner and the stranger looked on cautiously as the loner approached the roaring creature with an outstretched hand. He spoke softly under his breath, though the words flowed together into an indistinguishable hum. In what could have easily been the parting of finger with palm the outstretched hand was laid against the flaring nose. Like a douter the simple gesture put out the fire in the whaling eyes and the stallion went nearly limp under his touch. The wide neck bent down placidly to the loner's strokes as his words switched to the common language and became audible once more. He took the saddle from the hands of the owner, who had completely forgotten what he was about to do before witnessing someone completing months of training in seconds.

"Seems we have reached an agreement!" The stranger smiled and clapped the coin into the palm of the owner, who still stood staring as the gate swung open and the young stallion walked out, as obedient as a footman. As the loner climbed into the saddle, the stable door was locked without much thought and the portly man hurried back into his house to listen to his wife a little more carefully when she next warned him against men in the night.

A drawn out, cold whistle echoed into the mist from the stranger's lips. A moment later, the gray horse under the loner started and neighed nervously as the darkness on the edges of the town seemed to move and take solid form. Hooves clattered on cobbles as a mare as dark as midnight in a windowless dungeon cantered to a stop at the end of the street. The loner soothed the nervous animal with a foreign word and the stomping calmed once again. The stranger swung himself on the back of the large ember-eyed creature, his dark cape melding nearly seamlessly into its fur.

“Come, follow me. I have some very nice tea that I've been looking forward to sharing with someone.”

Two sets of hoofbeats squelched down the small road that bent and disappeared under the broad branches of the foreboding cedars. It was common knowledge that trees did not shift their trunks silently like shadows cast by moonlight, nor did grasses overgrow their banks by the sigh of the wind, obscuring paths that by day ran straight and narrow. Yet, as surely as these things could be vouched for by men of science, the owner of a small stable by the edge of town could in return assure them two horses passed side-by-side down that shadow-etched path only wide enough for a single man to walk.

[libidomechanica]

Such as calmly as thee and clear: nor do you

Of the spoke not peers so to be.     But tearing waves; while thy curl, it is our lot, the art then     a row. Without the stony bases of his westering     side of the night into simple grumbling eyes wide! Still we     must be he I was throng’d

resource for such growth of those small     distance follow me, come, and far brought themselves a friends, and     thus it is, that sweare that other she knows, but before if     east of the should not well tolled breath. But be rich: but kind; why     let it boldly—or Thou

hast engross’d: of his rosary,     and mother people lotted again. That dignity of     course is gone, within! Heaven- like wags new wail my destin’d     urn, and in reason did the spongy dawn. And their leave my     father she turns but this

smiles encountered, Seven are hard     by, made Juan, the common love me the effect to tire     no chaunge of a bullet tearing of poets and fro, a     disease, but, forgetful; then have no one meaning? Which robe     the hill, and caves, their faye.

We questions pause, sigh’d down, and arms     are in your questions her doth not left and raged deep deceiving     tride, t would weary as it round so many now is     square the air waits the font: each villa on the threats, a shipwreck’d     her all day from a

darkling watched people together     on such odour wine, The act redoubled him, now are peering     in bitter thirsty race! The dark how her; to fulfill     all peelings of the Breton strangement, then, that terror     likewise great, O loue and

the more thy cause, in herself     extremely could forgat to death like Atlantic broad golden     year, the flocke, go, get your Highness promise she her nation.     And thou, poor and me. Great a sun to erase a midnight     and Strictest Lesbia, close

beside in amorous care, ’ said     his should bid fairer Virtue meet. To-morrow by their cups     with despair, half-lapt inflame my ioye shepheard clarion,     he passeth by; and I would hue deuoured twenty spring’s     natural.—Good Saints to this?

He touch one words. Jasmine, that is—     the Lady Blanched in this I know not feel—till that I     have loved in ever; quo’ she, which was brought your past midnight.     For a skin white, and sweet maid, how wise, how wise, and then it     is, the iced stray’d; the sweet

milk and genial vain was I to     drink a draught most illustrade, look’d so brave. Me. Such as calmly     as thee and clear: nor do you a good deal to each door     thorn, they should suit? Forsake, that I speak gentlemen to sulk     upon desire than

mine, all our mother’s judgment to     his frosted brethren lay; there. Perhaps the blue, silver snow     bedbugs? On the green the sum was a truth you all the road.     Yon look’d on my head was in a little light of Marses     hate that soft showers and

looking comes, like to me! Monsters,     and true, a little or the frosty air is keen and     enemy to retir’d from heaved, I wish I did she, and see     just popped and growing new. And now about going to thine     own lute the very side

a thousand hugged and maybe neither     on my slick beauty still; and nearer as they made drunk,     or emptied some doen, all thy fate were there I see? ’Tis nowe     I would we meets the creatures, you must be told about this?     But Lilia, rising

up without dreamed, and jet: there robben     one to tell? You have knows her poor a plight fairest euer     auaile. Of Heaven shouldered genitals, do you off a     marble understand; even in watching to heart an eddy     from the hall drench. Ocean

stream was arise and high, by     Jove, thy lovely length! Against their way, too, its puddle of     Lapidoth springs; and twenty though not gives my forte, at     all: in vain—affraye, thye neuer had his great god Love and have     been; beside the passions

in the drained heat. Of cape; but thence     as if I saw what it but now is squalls and losse to me,     so dull am, that your good for they St. And light, and fortune     has no lady in the while she lies by no meaning.     At glaring means can many

wording to the thou affright     dungeon strange. That sanguinity it be right see what times     each deep. Must that which turns up more tame for home, he doubtful     spirit fails to thee the dark heart let thy wave untoward     daybreak. Occur in

Oriental plant thus! Only my     selfe know, take it in their necks, when I think with silver-white,     nor knew, although for they, at leads they employ at news of     his Protectionary for ever having me, his soul,     we must seemed, or what I

shall respects a maid, but for once,     ere Music’s golden see the weanling her form or breath blood     might me with thee! Neuer I cast to vary, who keepe the     Welkin shore? All the moments cold. Into the drains on this     time to speak to your present

abroad statuesque sedateness,     nothing of the pavement: so I had in it is     no more, the little porringer and four kids will not like     the sodger. At all her bed: but etiquette footworn     The bedded in the hand.

[lonewolflink]

lol not the internalized misogyny jumping out with the way you talk about the USWNT.

listen bud it's not internalized misogyny, truly i wish it was. it is something more vile...

sometimes u hate a group of women but it's not because they're women…it’s because they're on a team u hate...

alas, tis the nature of being a sports fan. at least it is for me! i am a passionate sports girl!! i spew hatred!!!!!!! welcome to sports fandom lmao. you should hear the horrible, insane shit i've said in my life about sidney crosby, a man who by all accounts is just a nice canadian saint. :P

(if this is about me calling the uswnt as an organization arrogant, please understand that as the arrogance of a rich first world nation not as gendered lmao. let me be sour in my country's defeat? wtf man? i literally cried over this game yesterday, don't be dick)

PS/Extra Note: i don’t think you meant any harm here, but you should know that it's extremely poor form as a sports fan to go poke the wound of a fan whose team yours just beat in a championship game, the day after that game. 

EDIT: my big frustration with the whole thing really has nothing to do with the uswnt, to be clear. it's that marta, the greatest women footballer of all time, has never really had a proper team put around her because of economic and socio-political issues in brazil. she and really all of brazilian women's soccer has been systematically failed by the country. by contrast, the uswnt receives great support economically and politically for its development (obviously not relative to men's sports, but that's not the comparison here).

this is not to say that the players on the uswnt did not earn their medal; of course they did! they won the game fair and square. they worked their asses off to get there. they currently have, and have long had, an excellent team. i personally enjoy watching a lot of their players do their thing (trinity rodman in particular is a force and i love her style of play).

but i think it's pretty fair for brazilian fans like myself to be frustrated that marta's years on the seleção were squandered in this way, in a way that has nothing to do with the actual play on the pitch and everything to do with economics and politics. and to pretend like the USWNT (and other teams as well) have not had a leg up over brazil in that respect is a kind of arrogance that leaves a sour taste in my mouth. but again, that has nothing to do with the actual game that was played, which the americans won fair and square.

[note: it's not like we don't see this happening in other sports either!! there's a reason the US and China dominate the olympics lol]

at this point i'm just venting (sorry!). but it's deeply tragic what has happened in brazilian women's soccer, and specifically to marta. at least it is tragic to me. and instead of writing this essay mid-game because i was sad and angry, i just made some snide comments (really one comment) in my tags, on my personal blog. i feel like...i should be allowed to do that without someone accusing me of misogyny anonymously lol?

anon, i hope you see that this is actually much more complicated—both in the economics and politics of global sport but also for me personally—than just "i guess lonewolflink has some internalized misogyny to work through". like...no. that's not what the snide comment was talking about at all. i harbor no genuine ill will to the american women's team. but even if i did, and i had to work through some internalized misogyny...

my PS still stands. it's not cool to come to someone's personal blog when they clearly care a lot about sports and the teams they cheer for, and then prod the wound the day after a huge tragic loss. please don't do that in the future. not to me, not to anyone else.

[productofnfld]

What The Heck is Tibb’s Eve?

What is Tibb’s Eve?

In Newfoundland, Tibb’s Eve (or Tib’s Eve) is the name given to December 23rd. It’s sort of the unofficial start of the Christmas season.

The day is recognized in different ways by different people, but for many it is a day to party with friends. It has become (and probably always has been, to some degree) tied to drinking. These days bars have embraced the pseudo-holiday and compete to attract customers. I suspect finding patrons is not especially difficult.

By December 23rd many Newfoundlanders have returned to their home communities for Christmas — college and university students, people working ‘turn arounds’ and others who have left home are back. People are looking to reconnect with friends before attention shifts to family on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.

Tibb’s Eve isn’t a party for all Newfoundlanders, of course.

Tibb’s Eve customs vary from community-to-community and family-to-family; while for some it is one of the biggest party days of the year, for others it’s a time for family potlucks and, for others it’s a complete non-event.

The variation makes sense, really —

It’s a day that doesn’t exist.

The Mysterious Beginning of Tibb’s Eve

A Note on Tibb, Tib and Tip…

Tibb’s Eve goes by several names and spellings. It can be Tibb’s Eve, Tib’s Eve, Tip’s Eve, Tipsy Eve and more. Throughout this post, I will mostly use Tibb’s Eve, but occasionally I will use other names and spellings to match the source material I reference.

The phrase Tibb’s Eve has been used in Newfoundland for a long time but, for most of its history, it had nothing to do with December 23rd.

It was a mythical day; a day that didn’t exist. The phrase came to Newfoundland with European settlers.

Dr. George Storey wrote an article titled the Dialect of Newfoundland in which he referenced Tibb’s Eve. “We have,” he wrote “such Anglo-Irish terms as … Tibbs’ Eve.” He defined the phrase as meaning “neither before nor after Christmas.“

Not quite the current understanding.

‘Neither before nor after Christmas’ didn’t mean December 23, obviously. It meant never. If something was said to be happening on Tibb’s Eve, it was a way of saying it would not happen at all.

The origin of the phrase is disputed but one theory is that the name Tib referred to a woman of ‘ill-repute,’ sometimes associated with debauchery.

There is some literary evidence to back that up.

The name ‘Tib’ appears in Shakespeare’s Pericles (Act 4, Scene 6):

Marina: Thou art the damned doorkeeper to every Coistrel that comes inquiring for his Tib

The website LitCharts provides a less-than-elegant modern-day translation of the line:

Marina: You’re the damned doorman who lets in every vagabond that comes looking for his slut

Tib wasn’t seen as any kind of saint… and that, according to the theory, is where the phrase Tibb’s Eve is born.

If there was to be a Tibb’s Eve it would probably be because Tib had been made a saint, and had a festival day. Given her reputation, that seemed unlikely; so unlikely, that nobody thought it would ever come to pass. Saying something would happen on Tibb’s Eve was a joking way of saying something would happen when Tib was made a saint.

There are many instances of the phrase Tibb’s/Tib’s Eve (meaning ‘never’) in old Newfoundland writings. The following clip appeared in a letter published in the St. John’s Daily Star in 1920:

"There is a possibility that the oft quoted 'Tib's Eve' may breeze along one of these extra fine days... but there doesn't seem to be any conceivable prospect that the Newfoundland Football League will ever present the medals that have been won..."  -- April 15, 1920, by 'A Fan,' St. John's Daily Star

I think the author clearly means that Tibb’s Eve doesn’t exist. It may come along, they write, hinting that in 1920 the term was not widely understood to mean December 23rd.

The Journey to December 23rd

So, how did a day that would never come, arrive? And why did it land on December 23rd? And why in Newfoundland?

Truthfully, no one really knows… but there are stories. The most common of them work their way back to alcohol.

Tipsy to Tibb’s

The following story was recorded from an informant in Port aux Basque in 1973. It was recorded on a word slip for the Dictionary of Newfoundland English:

"I have heard that it is called Tipps Eve because when men used to put up their own homebrew etc. they wouldn't drink it before Christmas but I guess most men would sneak a drink or two on this day because they felt that Christmas was close, and they probably got a bit tipsy, thus Tipps Eve."

If we were going to take this as the origin story, then it would appear Tib (and the original meaning of Tibb’s Eve) had very little to do with it; tipsy maybe became Tipps and eventually Tibb’s. Perhaps.

I don’t know.

We probably shouldn’t be too quick to adopt this version of events, in any case. The same story appeared in a the article by William Kirwin called Folk Etymology: Remarks on Linguistic Problem-Solving and who does it (Language and Lore, 1985).

Kerwin points out that lots of Newfoundland words have been ‘defined’ and given etymological origins without much evidence. Kirwin ends with the caution that we should be “on our guard when we have a sudden hunch and are prompted to write out of thin air an etymological source for an interesting term.”

I wonder if Tibb has falsely attributed to Tipp/Tipsy because it sounds plausible; it’s not hard to imagine Tipp turned into Tibb because people were familiar with the old Anglo-Irish term. That’s the thing, though: it’s just imagination without substance.

What cannot be debated is the fact that December 23rd still goes by the name Tipsy Eve in some parts of Newfoundland. Not, that that clarifies the issue — Tibb’s could have evolved into Tipsy just as easily as the reverse.

Neither Before Nor After

Earlier in this post, I pointed out that George Story defined Tibb’s Eve as a day that was “neither before nor after Christmas, i.e. never.” The fun, folksy definition created a sort of semantic link to the holidays. It doesn’t, in any way, explain how December 23rd became Tibb’s Eve but it does drop a tantalizing breadcrumb — if Tibb’s Eve were going to have a calendar date, by virtue of the definition the December holidays were already top of mind.

It’s a mystery.

When Did Tibb’s Eve Become ‘A Thing’?

Not only is the origin of Tibb’s Eve on December 23rd a mystery, it’s not clear when the belief began… though it seems it’s not an ancient tradition.

In my reading (which was hardly exhaustive, and mostly in the MUN Digital Archives) I’ve found no reference to December 23rd as Tibb’s Eve until the second half of the 20th century, after that references begin to appear.

Folklorists peg Tibb’s Eve as a post World War 2 invention.

Subjectively, I think the tradition has exploded in popularity over the last two decades. I’ve always known December 23rd as Tibb’s Eve, but it was not the pop cultural phenomenon in my youth that it is now.

More Tibb’s Questions than Tibb’s Answers

There is much mystery when it comes to the Tibb’s Eve tradition, and because of that, much room to define the day away from hard and fast customs. That may be one of the reasons people mark the day with such variation.

Personally, I like the idea that it’s a day to reconnect with friends, celebrate shared histories, and maybe have a drink or three.

I’m not saying December 23rd descends into debauchery but I can’t help but think that, here in Newfoundland, the ‘Never-Gonna-Be-Saint Tib’ may have gotten the last laugh.

Worthy of sainthood or not, she finds her name attached to a day, and it’s just the sort of day she might have enjoyed — one that’s marked with a party on George Street.

Tibb’s Eve Podcast

Check out the podcast for more Tibb’s Eve talk and a healthy dose of Newfoundland Christmas slush.

[fadebolt]

Personal room ranking:

1 - Rubicon: AI 2 - Silent Construct: H02 3 - The Exterior: H01 4 - Outer Expanse: TREETOP 5 - Frigid Coast: WALL06 6 - Sky Islands: B13 7 - Outskirts: A06 8 - Shoreline: A04 9 - Undergrowth: A19 10 - Undergrowth: RIVSTART

Extra comment: This was actually strangely easy for me, as AI does a lot of things I love, and it's probably the only room from these that I don't have a single issue with (though the issues I have with the others are all very minor things, but still). The other rooms also didn't feel overly difficult to place, somehow, which is interesting.

Anyways, I don't feel like there's a need to elaborate on the top two - cus like, let's be honest, we all knew TREETOP and AI are gonna perform the best here. (Though the sheer number of votes that TREETOP has collected…. it's very impressive, especially when you consider the power of its competition. Like, this thing might just win the entire showdown)

We do still have H01, which is having a surprisingly difficult time holding up, but it's very much hanging on for dear life, which is pretty funny when you consider that it was one of the biggest powerhouses of the base game (but the existence of Metropolis has definitely damaged its chances on the polls).

And then, of course, you've got the ties. On the previous poll, I've made a complete fool of myself by proclaiming that the fifth option will be a tie, only for some late votes to come in, and change that. (So at the end, it was the 4th and 5th options that tied, with no 6th or 7th in sight, which is why there wasn't a tiebreaker poll. It was RUIN13 that rose up, btw, and while I would have preferred the two E05s instead, I do see the appeal of the symmetric temple + asymmetric plants aesthetic that the room is going for) There's currently 4 hours left for this poll, so something like this might happen again, though it is less likely, thanks to the ties ranging from the 4th to the 7th placement, rather than the previous 5th-8th. But if it does happen, I'm hoping for the rise of anything other than A19. Centipedes on Saint suck :<

Pick Your Favorite Rain World Room, Day 274 R4a

Only 5 highest voted rooms will go through!

There is a hidden slugcat in one of the rooms (they can be in any color). If u can see it comment or reblog with where they are and if u are first, u get a cookie!

Credit for game screenshots goes to: Rain World Interactive Map, Rain World Wiki and me

Congratulations for day 273 winners!

[noroi-amaraciune]

ZERO PERFAVORE IL ROSARIO DI SAN SEBASTIANO HO PERSO 65 ANNI DI VITA.

[nikosamaki]

What’s your opinion about their DOWN part: Warnings: NSFW, BODY PARTS, NO MINORS

Lucifer:

As expected from The Avatar of Pride, he has a large size –but not that much you think like it would tear you up!!-; its length is 22cm (How fascinating!) with a diameter of 5 cm (Mannnnnnn… It’s a BRILLIANT size for a man; don’t you dare to say it is NOT 😂🔪). Due to having a nice size, he’s extremely proud of himself –his cock, of course.

However, you never tell him that you really like his size –you probably know if you tell him, there is NO way back and you’ll have LONG nights for years😊. Every time you do THAT, you both reach to a very delightful result (I meant the orgasm).

Mammon:

Not having the size like Lucifer, but his size is very suitable for his body (It’s not small that cannot give you the BEST feeling, it’s just medium). Its length is about 19 with a diameter of 4 (Ahhhhh… What a GORGEOUS thoughts you have☺).

Even though he’s size –the cock- is smaller than Luci and Beel, he love it! –DUDE… He’s a MODEL with that size!!! So why not being proud?.

Also he knows that you’re OBSESSED with it; every night you confirm it with your sweet MOANS… What a bad liar you are😉.

Levi:

As same size as Mam has! –most of the time, they have arguments about who has the longest cock :/ … *Writer sighs*-, but there’s a HUGE difference between Levi’s cock and the others… He has TWO!!! -Saints! It gives DOUBLE pleasure!! DAMN… You can NOT leave that man (Please ATTENTION that it’s my idea and NOT real… I guess you’ve seen the pics of him that has 2 instead of 1).

In spite of having 2 unlike others, he’s a bit SHY (Oww… Cute😄) –but when he’s around you and has a lot DESIRE, FUCK being shy, he’s a WILD & HUNGRY BEAST which wants to taste ALL of your BODY!!!!

Satan:

Well, he has the same diameter like Luci but the difference is his length which is 20 -2 cm smaller than Luci that makes him angry and jealous… *Again writer sighs* (I don’t get them😐). All in all, he’s satisfied with his size that’s NOT smaller than now –he’s got a point about his brothers’s cock🤣… (This is the end of being MEAN😂).

It’s not the only thing that he’s satisfied with, the most important thing is he can make you feel AWESOME -the greatest climax you can ever feel- and he goes REALLY CRAZY due to your sweet voice.

Like Luci, you don’t tell him how CRAZY you are about his cock; once you said, you’re tied up and welcome to your HEAVEN.

Asmo:

Among the brothers, he and Belphie have the smallest one –NOT as small as pinky finger🤣🤣- its length is somehow about 17 with a diameter of 3.4 –but still he’s as LUSTFUL as ever… Having a smaller cock doesn’t change the FACT that he’s the avatar of LUST😉 (I’m pretty sure that you get me). As I mentioned about his size, he dies to see Luci’s COCK whenever he has the CHANCE (He’s NOT the ONLY ONE HERE😂… I can feel it and I’m counted with the “AGREE” group) –as he said: “He’s my SEXIEST brother, so why not ENJOY as MUCH as I can of the moments I see?” (Has a GOOD point).

But baby, Don’t forget those sweet nights that he makes you to become a BAD BITCH  -whereas he has the smallest size, he knows MORE than of his brother about *** and how to make you HORNY (Still waters run deep!!!).

Beel:

Son of a BISCUIT!!! He has the BIGGEST size!!! –even than Luci!-, its length is 24 with a diameters of 6!! (The HELL, if Luci doesn’t tear you up, well, HE WILL! How on the THREE WORLDS? Is it POSSIBLE ??😶). To be honest, he doesn’t care about his size or feeling proud!!!! – unlike his brothers-, but if you say you like it… That’s a different story 😊.

He’s the avatar of GLUTTONY, so he has a HUGE desire when it comes to you –I meant your body- and he doesn’t have any switch off button which makes you both to reach infinitive pleasures till got tired.

Belphie:

As I said about Asmo, applies to him –they’ve the same size- and his opinion about it, is just like Beel’s behavior :/ (In one of my stories, I said that this twins have a problem with things like that😑).

Furthermore, he enjoys seeing you under him while you’re moaning and begging for MORE (He definitely inherited this moral from Satan).